Chapter 1333 Dead Hand
The flames wrapped in Fox flew everywhere, and a man with silver hair and beard and an old and solemn face emerged from the flames!
Yes. Professor Dumbledore!
The moment he saw the face clearly, Harry relaxed completely.
No one will be injured or killed tonight. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are doomed to fail this time!
Not only Harry, but also Sirius beside him, the strikers, Arthur, the Longbottoms, and the little wizards who ventured here tonight all had such thoughts.
Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, the greatest wizard of our time!
Even in the past few years when Professor Brains' reputation has become so strong, people have never forgotten the changes that Albus Dumbledore brought to the world.
People will still call Albus Dumbledore the only wizard that the most evil dark wizard who ever lived was afraid of!
Compared to Harry and his friends who were in high spirits, the surviving Death Eaters had expressions as if they had lost their parents.
Not to mention people like Rookwood and Rabastan, even the most loyal Bellatrix stood there, at a loss.
"Dumbledore."
Voldemort, who had just escaped with the help of the caduceus, was still floating in the air. He stared at Dumbledore who appeared out of thin air with his bloodshot eyes, and obvious fear appeared on his pale face.
This fear is deep-seated and complex, and it can even be said that it has nothing to do with the power level between the two people.
"Too many people have died tonight, Tom. Enough—"
Dumbledore said.
No one currently in the shabby reception hall of the Ministry of Magic had ever seen Albus Dumbledore like this.
His silver hair and beard moved without wind, and an invisible yet real powerful force radiated from his body. Even Hermione and others who were farthest away from him felt the roots of their hair trembling!
In a second stretched out by unrivaled magical power.
Dumbledore appeared in mid-air and floated towards Voldemort, but he did not look at him at all. Instead, he was looking at the double snake staff with blood-red eyes in front of Voldemort!
Dumbledore moved forward slowly, like a massive celestial body. As he moved slowly, the lights floating in the dark hall were attracted by him and became as real as substance.
The color of Dumbledore's eyes changed. It was no longer the clear blue that the world was familiar with, but a scorching gold.
He slowly raised one hand, and under the gaze of everyone, he grabbed the staff in front of Voldemort and approached him little by little.
Ho, ho, ho!
The creepy laugh that made one's scalp turn white appeared again.
Click!
Even Voldemort, who was so close, could not see clearly what happened at that moment.
Suddenly, a crisp explosion sounded in the void, like a thousand panes of glass shattering at the same time.
The gray that lingered around him was dispelled by Dumbledore, but that was all he could do.
Dumbledore flew backwards, but he landed on the ground like an agile athlete, and there was still some astonishment in his eyes when he looked at the caduceus.
"Albus!"
Kingsley was the first to come to his senses. He rushed to Dumbledore and supported him. He also keenly discovered that Dumbledore's hand, which had just touched the wand, had withered!
The whole palm is like a flower whose life has come to an end, dry and withered, without a trace of life!
"You need to get medical attention, Albus!"
Kingsley was stunned for a moment, then cried out in distress.
"I don't think that's necessary anymore, Kingsley—"
Dumbledore raised his withered hand and examined it with interest in the dim light.
"What's with that staff, Dumbledore!"
Scrimgeour also limped over. He looked at Dumbledore's withered hand, which seemed to have been stripped of flesh and blood, and his face changed drastically.
"Is it a curse?"
"It's not a curse, Rufus. It's death. Oh, I think my hand is dead. I can't use it anymore--"
Dumbledore discussed his left hand as if he were discussing an alchemical tool that was of no importance to him. He shook his stiff, withered hand a few times in front of everyone, then casually put it down. Then, he stared at the double-snake staff and said calmly,
"As for this staff, Amosta said it was a double snake staff, and he has always been afraid of it."
Dumbledore was injured, and it seemed that he was seriously injured. Voldemort naturally noticed this, but he did not show any joy, but was a little shocked and a little afraid.
Help Voldemort escape from Amosta's domain trap and force Dumbledore to retreat.
It seemed as if this was the only thing the Caduceus was willing to do.
The staff no longer emitted gray mist. It had retracted all its power and fell back into Voldemort's hand with a snap, like a lifelike and exquisite work of art.
This scene fell into Dumbledore's hands, causing his restored blue eyes to freeze.
Voldemort gripped his staff tightly, then waved it gently with a slightly confused expression.
This scene looks a bit nonsensical and funny.
However, no one in the hall could laugh.
Even Dumbledore's eyes froze at Voldemort's actions and he tightened his grip on his elder wand.
However, nothing happened.
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This magical wand, which was more powerful than any other wizard's wand, fell silent again and no longer responded to Voldemort.
"Damn it--"
Annoyance and unwillingness appeared on Voldemort's face, but just like he had tried thousands of times before, the proud double snake staff ignored it, and even the snake pupils dimmed.
This undoubtedly made everyone in the hall feel relieved.
The staff just now knocked Dumbledore away in an instant, and took away one of Dumbledore's hands.
If you don’t see it with your own eyes, no one would believe it!
"It's more dangerous than anything you've ever seen, Tom—"
Dumbledore spoke, his eyes complicated as he looked at Voldemort, who was looking at the caduceus with his eyelids slightly drooping.
"If you have any sanity left in you, Tom, you should give it up."
"No way, old Dumbledore. This staff follows me voluntarily. I am its master. I am the master of death!"
Voldemort glared at Dumbledore fiercely.
"You are jealous, Dumbledore. You want to take it away, don't you? Look at your ugly hand. This is the price you pay for your greed!"
"That sounds funny, Tom—"
Dumbledore twirled his beard.
"I really never thought that one day you would be called greedy. In my opinion, you have not gotten rid of the bad habits you had in the orphanage over the years. I mean, taking things that do not belong to you for yourself--"
As he spoke, Dumbledore shook the sleeve of his right hand, took a step forward, and waved his wand gently.
The few Death Eaters who were still conscious suddenly fell to the ground stiffly.
"You don't want to kill me, do you, Dumbledore?"
Voldemort instinctively took a step back, but when he realized it, a sense of shame suddenly surged in his heart. He stopped and stared fiercely at Dumbledore who raised his wand again.
"I suppose you would not do such a cruel thing, would you?"
"There are two things you never understand, Tom--the value of life and--"
Dumbledore continued to walk forward, as if the loss of his hand did not cause him any anxiety. He looked at Voldemort's distorted face with great calmness.
“Death is not something to be feared.”
It's about to end.
Harry, who was standing a little further away, thought.
He wondered what the hideous-looking staff Voldemort had pulled out was about, and he felt sorry for Dumbledore's injured hand.
But, this will eventually end.
The staff in Voldemort's hand did not seem to obey his command completely. He seemed to be seriously injured in Professor Braine's trap before. In this case, Harry believed that Professor Dumbledore could easily subdue Voldemort.
All the tragedies will end tonight.
Harry thought with both relief and sadness, and then -
"If death is not terrible, Dumbledore!"
Harry, who was waiting for Voldemort's complete defeat, suddenly heard Voldemort shouting, and then his green eyes suddenly met Voldemort's bloodshot eyes.
(End of this chapter)
