A Certain Hogwarts Magician Professor

Strong emotions cross the space and use each other's hearts as a bond to descend on the fierce battlefield.

The murderous Voldemort waved his wand—

"boom!"

There was a loud, echoing crack from his serpent stick, followed by a flood of black gas gushing out of his body.

"Harry Potter!?"

Voldemort screamed in disbelief, he was pretty sure he heard the boy's voice and wasn't hallucinating. He looked around at the smoke and dust that had not yet dissipated, as if a person would suddenly jump out of it.

But this is never possible. Before the official duel, he placed vigilance spells throughout the valley.

Voldemort suddenly disappeared and appeared on the edge of the battlefield. The boiling dark magic power in him seemed to escape uncontrollably. As soon as he left the body, they betrayed their master and turned into dense maggots, attached to Voldemort's robe, Hands, face... to devour him.

But Voldemort didn't care, the dreaded magical flashback was nothing to him. "Come out, Harry Potter!" Sneaky figure.

He suddenly realized, and then he was so furious that he could not wait to rush into Hogwarts Castle immediately and tear Harry to shreds, who had repeatedly tried to ruin his plans.

But he finally drove Dumbledore to a dead end, how could he just give up? What's more, his Horcrux is still in Dumbledore's hands! Therefore, he could only suppress his resentment and unwillingness, trying to drive Harry Potter out of his mind.

But he soon realized that this was not an easy task. The boy on the opposite side was like a brown candy, refusing to leave.

For a time, the good situation seemed to be reversed, and he was caught in a triple crisis at the same time - Harry Potter deep into his mind and thoughts; escaped out of control magic turned into maggots; and the greatest threat Dumbledore - Voldemort Annoyed at himself for wasting a great opportunity, his hatred for Harry deepened.

But there was something unsettling in his heart, the prophecy... the prophecy that he had never been able to see in full... The man with the power to defeat the Dark Lord was approaching...

Why is he! ?

Intense anger surged into my heart, it burned, and the black robe on Voldemort swelled, and the maggots attached to it fell to the ground and turned into pitch-black magic again.

He opened his mouth and took a breath, and the magic came back again.

Then he quickly laid out a few lines of defense in his mind, barely isolating Harry Potter's influence on him-if he was given time, he could easily drive the enemy out, but he couldn't separate his excess energy now, only Can passively defend;

With two troubles resolved, he stared at the clearing dust, the looming figure of Dumbledore showing him standing. Voldemort didn't care, the previous battle had shown that Old Dumbledore was no longer his opponent.

It's just that it's not clear whether it's an illusion, Dumbledore's silhouette seems to be taller.

Did he step on a rock?

"Zheng!"

A chilling vibrato echoed in the valley.

As if provoked by some kind of provocation, a noisy "hiss" sounded - this was some kind of advanced magic arranged by Voldemort with his snake-wood staff. The ubiquitous sound of snakes is like a curse, and it will be attached to Dumbledore if you are not careful.

But now this magic has been broken, at least half broken, the two voices complement each other, and no one can overwhelm the other.

"Is this your trump card, Dumbledore—" said Voldemort, grinning. "Do you know what just happened? I got a guest for our duel, and he came in on his own as a witness. Man...he will see how you fall, and then, with great pleasure, I will...repay him for the 'surprise' he brought me."

"Really, Tom? I don't think it's too much trouble, I'll thank him myself," said Dumbledore.

Voldemort squinted his snake-like eyes, and his slit-like scarlet eyes stared at the opposite side. He said in a high, sinister voice: "You're still so tough, Dumbledore, when I stomped you under my feet, I, I—"

He sucked in a breath of cold air, and the words were in his throat, as if someone suddenly strangled his neck.

The smoke and dust had completely dissipated.

Dumbledore looked completely different.

He used to be tall and thin, with a slightly bent waist, but now his back is straight; the grey beard that was long enough to be tucked into a belt fell off most of it, and right before Voldemort's eyes, the last long beard fell off, and then a fine red beard fell off. The brown stubble emerged from the smooth chin, grew wildly, and in the blink of an eye turned into a sturdy beard, exactly the same color as his hair at the moment.

The deep wrinkles on the corners of the eyes and forehead were quickly smoothed out, the slightly shriveled cheeks became plump, and the nose, which had been broken at least twice, seemed to be completely uninjured, and became straight and straight. Dumbledore stretched out his slender and powerful fingers, and the Elder Wand trembled excitedly in his hand, and it was the whistle that had just confronted the Serpent Wood Wand.

Anyone who sees this wand will not doubt its extraordinaryness, and the magic power wrapped around it is frightening. But Voldemort stingy didn't give any attention, all his attention was on the face that belonged to the middle-aged man.

"Dumbledore?" Voldemort asked sternly.

"Excuse me... the change is a bit big, but it's really me."

Dumbledore turned his wrist deftly, the Elder Wand responded eagerly, and Voldemort was horrified by the power of the spell fired from the wand, and he struggled to block the spell, but the aftermath left a small wound on him like a knife.

"That's impossible!" cried Voldemort, stirring the magic in his body, pouring it into the snake-wood staff. But Dumbledore suddenly appeared in front of him, one hand grabbed the snake-wood staff, the tip of the elder wand transformed into a half-glare blade, and slashed towards Voldemort's chest.

Blood splattered.

Voldemort turned into a black fog and appeared from a distance. The confusion and shock in his eyes didn't have time to dissipate. It was too fast. Dumbledore's attack speed was far beyond imagination, and the change was like two people.

No, they were just two of them!

One is dying; one is in his prime. Dumbledore at his peak, not many people have seen in this era, but Voldemort has encountered it today. He raised his head in a panic, the sky was surrounded by clouds and mist, condensing a lot of magic.

The air thickened, pressing him from all sides, and he felt like a little bug falling into the resin, making it difficult to even Apparate.

Before he could react, Voldemort used the Fire Charm.

Lihuo condensed into a fiery snake, this behemoth pressed hard on Dumbledore, Dumbledore waved his wand, and the soil rippled and sank like water waves, like a dammed lake. The deeper it gets, the more it disappears in the end.

Dumbledore looked at Voldemort, his azure blue eyes piercing, as if to say, don't try to run away this time. Voldemort was a little frightened. He had never seen Dumbledore in this state, but he was unwilling to let him leave him. He could see that this state would not last long...

Maybe delay time?

No, he didn't believe Dumbledore could break his Killing Curse.

"Avada gnaws at the tile!"

Voldemort tried his best. The dazzling green light converges like water, and the Killing Curse is like an entity, condensing into a green-robed Reaper wielding a sickle - this is a reflection of Voldemort's heart. Do you show your identity?

The green-robed Death God swung his scythe violently, and the miserable green light bloomed, and the deep valley was reflected like a ghost. The startled bird flew halfway and fell powerlessly. All living beings—trees, birds, small beasts, and even stones, soil, and dead leaves lost their original colors, as if they had been given life for a short period of time and then completely died.

The green light from the death scythe seemed to melt everything, and the area where the two were fighting kept sinking.

But it was still blocked.

The clouds in the sky were torn down and wrapped around Dumbledore, undergoing a series of complex transformations. Dumbledore waved his wand, and the gorgeous burning cloud was released like a spell, condensed into a red light, wrapped around the green-robed Death God, and attached to its sickle.

"You want to use this thing against Reaper?" roared Voldemort, frantically pouring magic into his wand. The tip of the staff and the green-robed Death God are connected by a green chain, which provides it with continuous strength and helps it break free.

The green light became stronger and louder, and the fire cloud wrapped around the green-robed Death God made a "zizi" sound, but then a burst of golden light erupted, just like the sunset on the horizon, the golden light was imprinted on the chain formed by the fire cloud. , forming a mysterious and unpredictable pattern.

It's not Transfiguration - at least not all, and few seem to be aware of Dumbledore's alternate identity, Master Alchemist. Then Dumbledore threw all the clouds around him into it, and the golden and red chains squeaked and twisted as if they had life. Finally, a thread was separated from the god of death and followed the green-robed god of death and Voldemort. The magical connection between them extends towards the opposite side.

Voldemort's eyes widened, and the golden-red thread climbed up Voldemort's snake-wood staff, and his wrists suddenly tightened.

He lost.

He had to go, he wanted to Apparate, but found himself unable to move, Voldemort bowed his head, his feet entangled in the wild green grass, the surging magic on the grass and the flickering magic symbols made his The heart fell a little bit.

The golden-red chains condensed by the burning cloud locked Voldemort, and the tighter it became, the magic power in his body slowly quieted down, and finally he was forced to let go, and the snake wooden staff fell to the ground. The green-robed Grim Reaper, who lost the support of his magic power, dissipated little by little.

Voldemort fell to the ground, looking at Dumbledore, who looked calm, although it was a completely different face.

"What are you going to do next, kill me?" Voldemort asked fiercely.

Dumbledore did not speak. He stepped back and sat in a makeshift chair with slender legs, looking wearily at Voldemort. His face gradually became wrinkled again, became wrinkled, and lost its luster... In just two or three minutes, a century has passed.

Voldemort seemed to forget that he was lying on the ground, that he was defeated and captured, and watched this scene quietly.

"does it worth?"

"It's worth it," said Dumbledore in a soft, but firm voice. "I'm much older, more experienced, and less valuable than the others. And besides—I'm undeniably responsible for what you've done. Of course it's not all - I'm not that arrogant yet, but I did bring you into the wizarding world."

"Hypocrisy," Voldemort scoffed, when there was a whistling sound in the distance, "Oh, someone's coming, let me guess, the Ministry of Magic? Not likely, you can't trust them; the Order of the Phoenix? Those people are unbearable. One blow... Felix Hepper?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I don't know either. I didn't tell anyone where the duel took place. Let's wait and see."

After he finished speaking, the two fell silent.

Dumbledore's eyes swept across the dilapidated valley, the picturesque place now completely ruined, pitted and charred. He lowered his head and stared at the Elder Wand, which seemed dead and motionless.

"What's its name?" Voldemort asked suddenly.

Dumbledore hesitated, then said, "The Elder Wand."

For a moment, Voldemort's expression was wonderful. "I see." He said in a low voice. "I searched for its whereabouts...but it doesn't look very obedient."

"It craves blood, it craves strife, and I cannot satisfy it," Dumbledore explained.

Voldemort looked away from the Elder Wand, stared at the odiously calm old face in the chair, and said wickedly, "You're doing nothing, you know, Dumbledore?"

"I'm the exact opposite of yours," Dumbledore said briefly, moving his body down to make himself more comfortable.

"Won't you give me a chair?" said Voldemort playfully.

Dumbledore smiled, "You seem optimistic - but I don't think it's necessary, you'll be moved to a new location soon."

"Don't tell me it's Azkaban? I don't believe you're so naive." Voldemort asked tentatively, licking his lips.

"I'm not naive, I just have expectations for human nature." Dumbledore corrected, "I thought, if I could give you more care and less vigilance, would you still be like this?"

Voldemort was a little stunned, and he sneered mercilessly: "You still say that you are not naive? Dumbledore, are you going to explain to me the most powerful force in your heart - love? When I was very young - - Before I met you, I realized the importance of strength. It will earn you awe and the obedience of the weak - you can't kill me, Dumbledore, I will come back. Just as I was chatting, I figured it out One thing has to do with our guests, my little friend Harry Potter..."

He suddenly closed his mouth, raised his head, and a figure descended from the sky.

It was Felix, who fell to the ground and looked around like a traveler who had strayed into this place. Then he walked towards the two of them, walking briskly and looking quite good.

"Felix Hepp, here you are," said Voldemort hoarsely, greeting like an old friend. "We just talked about you."

"Thank you, I'm honored." Felix said, bypassing Voldemort on the ground, and pressing back on Voldemort who was struggling to sit up as he passed, then walked straight to Dumbledore and took a serious look at him , asked "Are you okay?"

"It's never been better." Dumbledore joked, his eyes still on Voldemort, to be precise, behind him, he seemed to find something interesting, and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

But Voldemort interpreted the smile as sarcasm, and his face contorted.

"It happened to happen," Felix seemed to explain why he was here, "with Kreacher, but I didn't let him come over. He is a little emotional now."

"It's that... oh, I see," Dumbledore whispered, blinking.

"Speaking of which, Albus—" Felix frowned subconsciously, "You look a lot older, is that an illusion? There are a few more wrinkles than I did last time."

"Have you counted?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"Of course, those are the wrinkles on Albus Dumbledore's face. This is important information." Felix pretended to be serious, Voldemort's red eyes became evil and cold, and the two of them ignored him. He felt strongly humiliated.

"I originally had something to say, but it doesn't seem necessary anymore," he said coldly.

"Yes, I should have thought of that," said Dumbledore solemnly.

Voldemort glared at Dumbledore, of course he would not give in easily. Even if his magic power is now bound and the snake wooden staff is lost, he can at least do one thing.

He sneered, stared deeply at Dumbledore and Felix, as if to carve their faces into his soul, then closed his eyes and waited in silence. It won't be long before he is reborn, because immediately—

He's going to die.

Dumbledore and Felix looked at him without moving. After a few seconds, Voldemort opened his eyes wide, his serpent pupils quivering, "What—you—what did—"

Dumbledore shook his head slightly, waved his wand, and the restraints on Voldemort disappeared.

But Voldemort was not free, and another force bound him. He lowered his head laboriously, examining the dark green snake tail running through his chest. It seemed illusory and caused no physical harm, but it was this thing that locked his soul and trapped him in this body.

Lots of emotions flooded in.

Then Voldemort was dragged from the ground, hanging limply in mid-air, like a unkempt Dementor with his hood off. He struggled to raise his head, and saw a ferocious giant snake head approaching him, and arcs of different colors jumped on the edge of each dark green scale.

"Shou - Patronus?"

Felix nodded at him.

The giant snake opened its bloody mouth, and the next moment Voldemort's eyes went black.

Dumbledore and Felix witnessed the giant snake swallowing Voldemort in one bite, and by the way swallowed its own tail. It swirled in the air like a kitten and a puppy chasing its own tail, forming a standard ouroboros pattern. .