If there was one person Voldemort hated most at this moment, it would undoubtedly be Wayne Lawrence.
Within a single year, Wayne had repeatedly thwarted his plans - ambushing him after his resurrection, bombarding him with Muggle weapons, stealing his Horcrux, and killing his most capable lieutenant.
All of this made Voldemort mutter Wayne's name even in his sleep - always followed by a Killing Curse.
But when it came to who Voldemort feared most, without question, it remained Dumbledore.
From the day Dumbledore had welcomed him into the wizarding world, he had been a constant source of pressure. During his school years, Voldemort had acted with extreme caution, largely because of Dumbledore's presence.
He knew that the nature he had revealed at Wool's Orphanage had already drawn the attention of this century's greatest white wizard.
After graduation, having travelled the world and returned, Voldemort believed himself invincible, having mastered supreme power. But during several instances when members of the Order of the Phoenix faced danger, he had crossed wands with Dumbledore.
The feeling Dumbledore gave him then was nothing short of suffocating.
He even felt that Dumbledore was undefeatable - that as long as he lived and remained capable of holding a wand, no one in this world could overcome him.
"Tom, you shouldn't have returned."
As Dumbledore spoke, he had already positioned himself before Crouch. With his appearance, all conflict ceased, the Death Eaters regaining their senses as they hid behind their Dark Lord.
Voldemort stared intently at Dumbledore, his black robes flapping violently in the bitter wind.
"Dumbledore, do you truly believe you can kill one who is immortal?"
"Immortal? You overestimate yourself," Dumbledore said calmly. "Nothing in this world is truly immortal, and even if such a thing existed, it certainly wouldn't be you."
"You know how far I've travelled along the path to eternal life," Voldemort spat venomously. "I've come closer to the truth than anyone."
"You've merely proven yourself more foolish than anyone."
"Everything requires sacrifice! What are such costs compared to immortality?" A flash of crimson passed through Voldemort's eyes. At this point, further words were unnecessary.
He raised his wand, and a blinding green light tore through the night sky, shooting toward Dumbledore.
Clang!
A towering knight raised its shield, blocking the attack for Dumbledore before vanishing. The trees within the manor grounds came to life, growing faces as their roots transformed into limbs, closing in on Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
"Stand down!"
No sooner had Voldemort spoken than he himself disappeared, leaving his Death Eaters scrambling in confusion.
Dumbledore seemed to anticipate his reappearance location, casually flicking his wand to send a tremendously powerful spell toward the spot. Crouch felt his hair stand on end as Voldemort, barely having regained his footing, conjured a gleaming silver shield to block the spell, producing a dull, heavy thud.
"You cannot stop me!" Voldemort shouted, his voice louder than the shield's resonant boom.
"I never intended to stop you," Dumbledore's voice remained steady and forceful, as if stating a simple fact. "I am merely correcting a mistake made long ago.
"Your transformation into what you've become... I bear undeniable responsibility for that."
"Don't overestimate your importance, Dumbledore!" Voldemort snarled, his wand cracking as it unleashed a cloud of black mist. Ten large trees charging towards him corroded into viscous slime.
"No one can influence the great Voldemort. My bloodline, my talent, destined me to rule this world."
"That was my mistake." Dumbledore's wand shot forth long tendrils of flame, coiling around Voldemort like chains. "I failed to teach you about reverence, about what is more terrifying than death."
"Nothing is more dreadful than death! Save your nauseating hypocrisy!"
"You want my life, don't you? Ah, I forgot - you've never stooped to such cruelty."
"As your teacher, let me impart one final lesson today," Dumbledore spoke calmly, advancing towards Voldemort with leisurely steps. "Once a person's moral boundaries are breached, further transgressions become remarkably easy."
"I've discovered that sacrificing some of my principles in exchange for your destruction is a trade I'm quite willing to make."
The power of their spells intensified to terrifying levels. From behind silver shields emerged several green beams—Killing Curses imbued with life, twisting together in a macabre dance that made onlookers feel Death's presence descending.
The wizard statue in the fountain animated, striding forward to stand before Dumbledore, blocking green energy beams thicker than arms while maintaining fluid movement.
Always like this. Consistently like this.
Voldemort thought viciously. What appeared to be a simple transfiguration actually involved instant animation, material transformation, and even the endowment of consciousness in mere moments.
No ordinary inanimate object could block his Killing Curse.
They should have been effortlessly pierced, killing whoever hid behind them.
This suffocating feeling—no matter how powerful the Dark Magic he employed, Dumbledore always countered with breathtaking transfiguration, controlling the battlefield completely, leaving him without the slightest glimpse of victory.
Voldemort's body suddenly exploded, dark Obscurial matter shooting from within him, solidifying as the very earth trembled. Wherever the black substance passed, everything was utterly annihilated.
For the first time since appearing, Dumbledore's expression changed.
"An Obscurial?"
"A special gift prepared just for you." Voldemort's form reappeared as the dark Obscurial raged wildly. He cast spells, intent on Dumbledore's complete destruction.
"Fiendfyre."
The flames surrounding Voldemort surged violently, forming two towering fire walls dozens of meters high. Then, as Dumbledore's wand swept upward, the walls coalesced into a gigantic fiery Phoenix, tangling endlessly with the Obscurial.
The Elder Wand hummed with excitement - this was the first time it had sensed killing intent from this master, and it released its full power to help him destroy the formidable foe before them!
Crouch and others retreated repeatedly, leaving the battlefield to the two combatants. Many Aurors watched mesmerised - Dumbledore's spellcasting was pure artistry, effortless in its complexity, profound in its simplicity.
Spells that appeared straightforward yet possessed unimaginable power.
Watching the Death Eaters also fleeing, the calmly composed Crouch ordered: "Continue the mission. Regardless of whether Dumbledore wins or loses, our task is to kill every Death Eater we see."
A new battlefield emerged.
The Death Eaters, who had originally hoped to witness their master's glorious display of power, now had no choice but to grit their teeth and continue fighting. Without the Dark Lord's assistance, they were completely outmatched by the Ministry of Magic combat personnel armed to the teeth. The number of fallen bodies kept increasing.
Voldemort saw this but could do nothing. Dumbledore pressed him relentlessly, utilising everything in their surroundings - transfigured into various creatures to block his Killing Curses.
He even wondered whether Dumbledore would become even more formidable if the battlefield were in a furniture store.
Does this man's transfiguration have no limits?
"Ah!"
A scream echoed as Death Eater Mulciber cried out in agony, half his body shattered by a Blasting Curse. He stopped breathing within moments.
Perhaps Mulciber's gruesome fate stirred something in Voldemort, reminding him of Wayne's ambush, making him grow increasingly frenzied.
"Dumbledore, why must you always oppose me!?" Voldemort roared.
The response came in the form of golden spells one after another, until finally the silver shield shattered completely.
Just before this, Voldemort had been gathering a black vortex in his hand, drawing all the Obscurus into it before slamming it forward, sending the Obscurus hurtling toward Dumbledore, infused with dark magical power.
"Screech!"
The fiery Phoenix surged before Dumbledore, fearlessly colliding with the Obscurus in a tremendous explosion.
The sky rained with meteor-like sparks, accompanied by Voldemort's triumphant laughter.
The Phoenix vanished. Though weakened, the Obscurus still retained combat capability.
He had gained the upper hand!
However, before Voldemort could celebrate for long, Dumbledore manipulated the fountain's water into a massive sphere, trapping the Obscurus within, then reinforced it with billowing crimson smoke.
The Obscurus struggled desperately but couldn't break free from its prison.
The smile vanished from Voldemort's face.
"A truly terrifying Obscurus, worthy of being a creature formed from materialised magical power," Dumbledore said softly. "But unfortunately, I gained experience dealing with such things decades ago."
"What of it?" Voldemort spat venomously. "You've grown old, Dumbledore. Look at you gasping for breath - life has abandoned you. Even with your formidable magical power, I will still emerge victorious in the end."
Sweat beaded on Dumbledore's forehead. Just as Voldemort had said, while his magical power remained strong, his vitality had greatly diminished.
"Perhaps you've forgotten that Mr Lawrence is a potions master."
Dumbledore smiled as he produced a potion vial and drank it in one gulp. Soon, the weariness vanished from his eyes, his age-stooped posture straightened, and he appeared revitalised.
Voldemort retreated two steps, eyes blazing with fury. He wanted to accuse Dumbledore of cheating, but saying those words would mean complete defeat—it would reveal him as a poor sport.
"Tom, surrender now. You can never succeed."
Dumbledore remembered Wayne's earlier advice - provoke Voldemort's rage, make him emotional. The angrier and more fearful, the better.
"I am supreme, and you and Lawrence will one day become trophies of my ascent." Voldemort's eyes glowed with malevolence, as numerous skeletal arms suddenly erupted from the ground near Dumbledore, seemingly intent on dragging him into hell.
Yet the old man merely stamped his foot heavily, causing the earth to churn and flip, shattering the arms into fragments.
"A lovely fantasy." Dumbledore strode steadily towards Voldemort, their spells clashing violently, yet unable to drown out his voice.
"I may fall to you, for I have grown old, but Lawrence never will."
"He is younger than you, more talented than you, a prodigy unparalleled in history. You were denied a teaching position after graduation, yet he became Headmaster without even finishing his studies."
"That is the disparity between you."
"The immortality you desperately seek, he achieved before even setting foot in school. You have already been caught up and surpassed by him, and there will be no chance of a comeback in the future."
"Some are born to wealth, others deem themselves extraordinary. Tom, accepting reality is your only path out."
Dumbledore's words cut deeper than his spells, each phrase, every comparison like a sharp dagger plunging into Voldemort's heart, piercing his very soul.
The screams of the Death Eaters grew fewer, for most had already gone to meet Merlin.
Seeing the fury in Voldemort's eyes flicker and disperse, Dumbledore delivered the final blow: "Perhaps you are unaware, but it was I who led Lawrence to Gaunt's Ring with the Resurrection Stone. Without him, I would surely have fallen to its curse and not lived to see this day."
"Pfft!"
Voldemort could endure no more, finally coughing up a spray of blood towards the sky.
...
Hogwarts.
"Harry! Hold on, don't pass out!"
Smack!
"Stay awake, push! Push! It's almost out!"