"Dumbledore?" Voldemort's eyelids trembled, and when he pronounced Dumbledore's name, his hoarse voice trembled like his eyelids, but he tried his best to restrain himself, and it was insignificant.
"It's me." Dumbledore's deep voice echoed over the battlefield, he nodded slightly, dressed in a white robe, appeared abruptly behind a stone pillar in the ruins, and walked slowly in front of everyone.
The surrounding faculty and students seemed to be petrified, and everything was silent, and then bursts of fanatical cheers broke out.
"The principal is not dead!" The students were extremely excited and cheered excitedly.
He was wearing a golden-red robe, with silver silk thread embroidered with strange patterns and esoteric symbols around the robe, which looked extremely luxurious.
But his own face has gone through vicissitudes, with ravines and criss-crosses, the broken bridge of the nose is still the same as before, but he looks hale and hearty, and his long silver-white beard is about to touch the ground.
The thick and charming voice is very familiar to the students of Hogwarts,
"Grindelwald, is it yours?" Voldemort asked coldly, he now knew that he had stepped into a trap against him.
"It doesn't count, what do you mean I belong to him?" Another question came from a distance, obviously dissatisfied with the dominance.
"But I am indeed on Albus's side now." From the other corner of the ruins, Grindelwald in black robe slowly moved his steps and walked to the center of the field.
He raised his wand at Voldemort.
"There are people who are willing to take refuge in the enemy who has imprisoned him for decades."
"Hogwarts' anti-apparition spell is in effect. Unless you can break the magic set by the four founders, otherwise, the only way you want to leave today is to kill us."
"Or be killed by us and bury you. This school is not suitable. Your soul will pollute this land." Dumbledore spread his hands.
"Joke," said Voldemort contemptuously.
Voldemort was facing two wizards who were not inferior to him. His subordinates could hardly intervene in a battle of this level, but on the other side there were several professors who were in the second echelon of fighting power.
The speckled sparks gradually solidified in the void, turning into a fiery lion that ferociously stood in front of the Demon King, blocking his escape route. The body made of flames and the curly golden-red hair were strands of it. Fiery thread, Voldemort's wand slashed down fiercely, and a rapidly rising cold air condensed in front of him, temporarily suppressing the lion's arrogance.
The golden-red robust lion roared out of rage, and then bounced back even more swiftly. The flames all over his body became more and more vigorous, as if the strong golden hair grew again in an instant, curling up to threaten the fierce fire. The sparks from the shot even touched Voldemort's black robe and ignited.
The violent wind can blow away the raging flames to extinguish them, and can also make his fire grow wildly.
All of this depends on the intention of the caster.
For Grindelwald, it is naturally the latter.
Voldemort's pale face immediately revealed an expression of rage, and his thin, blood-colored lips were slightly dilated due to anger. With a flick of his hand, the flame attached to the black robe was extinguished.
Some burnt ashes fell from midair.
He hadn't been injured for a long time, but now, he was burned by this hot flame.
The faint tingling sensation was not enough to drive him into madness of anger, but because it was an unbearable shame.
"Go away," he growled.
The frequency of waving the magic wand became faster and faster, a thick earth snake sprang out from the ground and fought with the lion, and more and more mud and sand piled up, as if trying to bury the fire lion.
"The wind is blowing!" Grindelwald pointed his wand at the stalemate battlefield.
A gust of violent hurricane passed by, and the fire took advantage of the wind, and the mighty flame beast king suddenly grew several sizes, and the hair made of flames became more and more vigorous. Such layers of chapped, even shattered, reduced to the most common soil.
Voldemort was constantly stretched left and right under the offensive of the two.
The dark green turf of the Quidditch field was completely overturned, the soft grass was ignited, and the fire began to spread violently. A sea of flames suddenly formed, and it intensified. The entire sky above the field seemed to be burned red. The dazzling brilliance even illuminated the entire dark sky.
In an instant, the sky was full of red clouds, like daytime.
It came over like a storm.
With a light wave of Dumbledore, a dark cloud far away accelerated his speed and rushed towards the sky above the Quidditch pitch. Large and large raindrops in the cloud began to wrap the smoke and dust in the air, condensing , overturned.
The long water droplets are no longer balls, like long transparent arrows, whizzing through.
The water and fire blended together, making a constant squeak.
Water freezes into ice.
The leaping flames flickered in the ice, and the light of the flames was dimmed after being blocked by the ice.
Formed a peculiar landscape.
Voldemort snorted coldly.
The flames were extinguished, but the ice cubes began to crackle, fell suddenly, and then formed in mid-air, condensing into a ferocious ice snake.
Pieces of solid ice turned into giant snakes, which in turn danced wildly on the field, ran wantonly on the scorched field, and rushed towards the two old men with a howl.
Gusts of wind blew suddenly, and the sleeves of the robe fluttered backwards, making a whirring sound.
With a slight flick of the wand in Grindelwald's hand, the towering giant tree in the Forbidden Forest not far away was uprooted, like a long sword, hitting the speeding ice python head-on, piercing through it Sawdust flew across his body, the snake twisted and struggled a few times, then turned into pieces of ice all over the ground, and flew backwards towards Voldemort.
Voldemort struggled to keep up with the two wizards at the same time, especially those who were not inferior to him in strength. The pressure was very great.
Suddenly, his body froze, and a spell with a tricky angle hit him.
As usual, a simple Disapparation would dodge it, and optionally, the Swiftness spell would render Voldemort unresponsive.
Voldemort lay down on the grass with his head upside down. His body seemed to have been petrified, but he was still holding the wand firmly in his hand, squinting at the two who led him into the trap step by step with his resentful eyes. people.
"we won!"
"we won!"
The students around erupted into horrific cheers, and the Quidditch pitch had never erupted in such a horrific uproar for the final Quidditch match.
"Tom, it's over." Dumbledore stood not far from Voldemort with his hands behind his back, shook his head, and said with emotion.
"That's not necessarily the case." Voldemort retorted, then closed his eyes and let go of his arms, as if he was going to kill him.
"Expelliarmus!" Another wand of the old man hit Voldemort's lying body.
Without a trace of resistance, the Elder Wand came out of the man's hand, and was thrown high, drawing a graceful arc in mid-air.
It was all over, and even if he was the Dark Lord, what could he do when he lost his wand.
But what Dumbledore didn't see was that the moment Voldemort let go of his wand, an indescribable smile appeared on Voldemort's face.