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Chapter 63 - Dumbledore Vs Voldemort

The battlefield was a cacophony of chaos—shouts, spells, and screams echoed across the grounds of Hogwarts as flames flickered in the night sky. Amidst the pandemonium, two figures stood still, their power radiating like a storm held in check. Albus Dumbledore, his azure robes billowing in the magical winds, faced Tom Riddle, better known as Voldemort, who grinned malevolently beneath his pale, snake-like visage.

There was no need for words. They both understood: this was their final battle.

Dumbledore, his hand steady and his wand gleaming like a beacon, spoke quietly but firmly. "Tom, your time ends tonight."

Voldemort's crimson eyes glinted with sadistic delight. "The only end here, Albus, will be yours. You should have stayed the weak, old fool who pleaded for peace. This... change... won't save you."

But it wasn't a change. It was the unveiling of who Albus Dumbledore truly was.

Voldemort struck first. A flick of his wrist sent a jagged beam of dark energy screaming toward Dumbledore. The Headmaster responded instantly, raising a shimmering, golden shield that absorbed the spell with a low hum before exploding outward in a burst of radiant light.

Before Voldemort could react, Dumbledore launched a counterattack. A wave of fire erupted from the tip of his wand, curling and twisting into a serpentine dragon of roaring flames. The dragon lunged, snapping its jaws at Voldemort, who conjured a wall of black ice to meet it.

The two elements collided, sending a shockwave across the battlefield. Debris and sparks rained down as the combatants moved with lightning speed, firing off spell after spell.

Dumbledore pressed forward, his movements fluid yet deliberate. With a flick of his wand, he summoned jagged spires of earth from the ground, forcing Voldemort to leap and twist to avoid them. As Voldemort landed, he retaliated with a swarm of shadowy tendrils that lashed out like whips.

Dumbledore ducked and spun, his robes flowing like water as he dodged each attack with inhuman precision. With a sharp motion, he transfigured the tendrils into a flock of glowing phoenixes that dive-bombed Voldemort in a flurry of light and heat.

But Voldemort wasn't to be outdone. A thunderous roar split the air as he conjured a massive storm cloud above them, crackling with violet lightning. Bolts rained down, forcing Dumbledore to deflect and dodge while maintaining his relentless assault.

Their duel wasn't confined to wandwork. With a speed that belied his age, Dumbledore closed the distance between them, slamming the butt of his wand into Voldemort's wrist to knock his wand aside. Voldemort snarled and retaliated with a sweeping kick that Dumbledore narrowly avoided by stepping back, his movements impossibly graceful.

Taking advantage of Voldemort's exposed side, Dumbledore spun his wand in a tight circle, summoning a chain of golden energy that wrapped around Voldemort's arm. The Dark Lord hissed, his free hand crackling with raw magical force as he shattered the chain and lunged forward.

They locked eyes as their hands met mid-air, each trying to overpower the other with sheer magical will. The ground beneath them cracked and crumbled as their opposing forces clashed, creating a maelstrom of light and shadow.

Dumbledore suddenly leaned back, using the momentum to bring his knee up into Voldemort's stomach. The Dark Lord staggered but recovered quickly, slashing his wand through the air to send a wave of kinetic force that sent Dumbledore skidding backward.

Voldemort sneered. "You've improved, Albus. But not enough."

He raised both hands, his wand glowing fiercely as he summoned a torrent of water from the nearby Black Lake. The water surged forward, forming a massive serpent that towered over Dumbledore before striking with terrifying speed.

Dumbledore didn't flinch. With a single motion, he conjured a sphere of glowing heat that expanded outward, vaporizing the serpent in an explosion of steam. The mist swirled around them, creating an eerie battlefield where only the faint outlines of the two combatants were visible.

Taking advantage of the obscured vision, Voldemort launched a silent Killing Curse, its deadly green light cutting through the fog. But Dumbledore had anticipated the move, sidestepping gracefully and using the mist to mask his own attack—a barrage of crystalline shards that homed in on Voldemort with deadly accuracy.

The Dark Lord deflected most of them, but a few struck their mark, drawing thin lines of blood across his pale skin.

Their duel escalated to catastrophic levels. Voldemort unleashed a devastating barrage of dark spells, each one designed to maim or kill. Dumbledore responded with equal ferocity, weaving intricate shields and counterspells that turned Voldemort's attacks against him.

At one point, Dumbledore slammed his wand into the ground, causing the earth to split open and emit a wave of molten lava. Voldemort soared into the air, his robes billowing as he rained down spears of ice that pierced through the lava, creating pillars of steam.

Dumbledore leapt onto one of the pillars, using it as a platform to launch himself toward Voldemort. He reached out with his free hand, summoning a shimmering silver blade of raw magic that clashed against Voldemort's own conjured blade.

The two wizards engaged in a deadly dance of blade and spell, their movements a blur of speed and precision. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, and the air around them hummed with unrestrained power.

Their duel had captivated everyone on the battlefield. The students, professors, Death Eaters, and even the dark creatures stood frozen, their battles forgotten as they watched the two most powerful wizards of their time.

Harry, standing amidst the chaos, couldn't help but admire the spectacle. He had seen Dumbledore's strength before but never like this. This wasn't the gentle mentor who valued second chances—this was a warrior, a force of nature, a wizard who had decided that mercy was no longer an option.

Voldemort grinned, his crimson eyes glowing with unholy light. "This is what I wanted, Albus. To see the real you."

Dumbledore's voice was calm, but his eyes burned with intensity. "And this is what I've been holding back, Tom. Let's see if you can withstand it."

The air around them crackled as both combatants prepared for the next wave of attacks. Dumbledore's wand glowed brighter than ever, and Voldemort's aura darkened to an almost tangible blackness. The ground beneath them trembled, unable to bear the weight of their power.

With a deafening roar, they charged at each other, their magic clashing in a dazzling display of light and shadow. The battlefield erupted once more, but this time, the focus was entirely on the titanic struggle between two of the greatest wizards in history.

The duel was far from over, and the fate of the wizarding world hung in the balance.

To Be Continued...