Harry, Ron, Draco, and Daphne all looked ahead, stunned, their eyes slowly landing on the magical creature from a distant, foreign dimension.
Not only had the creature reflected Voldemort's Curse, but… it had made the Curse many levels stronger. Strong enough to shock the Dark Lord. Strong enough not to give the evil wizard time to retaliate. Strong enough to send him flying, leaving no means to escape.
"That was…" Ron mumbled.
Before he could finish the praise, though, a crackling sound rumbled in their ears.
"Shield Charm!" Black shrieked out a warning from afar. "Behind you!"
The Battle Workshops had instilled the Spell in their very bones, their mastery over it rising so high that they could cast the Charm in any direction instinctively.
So, the moment Black's words entered their ears, four wands cast the same spell.
Voldemort's Spell tore through their combined magical shield anyway and sent the children flying in different directions, their chests sinking as if a Bludger had hit from the front.
The three boys and Daphne rolled on the earth before colliding straight into tombstones, forcing painful grunts out of them.
Voldemort casually landed on the ground and looked down at his chest.
Hideous scars were regenerating there, flesh and blood wriggling like tiny snakelets.
With a dark fury, he looked up, his bloody, slit pupils reflecting the strange creature that had made him suffer by his own Spell.
"Nagini!" Voldemort hissed.
A large serpent came out of nowhere and lunged at the Wobbuffet, biting it over the head before it coiled its entire length around it and… squeezed.
A painful grunt left the creature's large mouth as well.
In the distance, Daphne was holding her broken shoulder, her blurry vision barely telling her what was happening to the creature.
"Use…" she began.
Voldemort walked out of a mass of black fog next to her, eying the strange Grimoire that levitated above the girl.
She will have her uses… he thought, knocking her out with a Spell.
With a thud, Daphne fell, the Grimoire vanishing out of existence, the magical creature following suit soon after.
A thin, translucent sword once again came for him from the back, this time targeting the blood protrusion on his chest.
Something told Voldemort that in this place, the most dangerous element to his resurrected and new powers was this… magic. Ancient and powerful and… underutilized by an inexperienced… Muggle!
That word sent a wave of fresh anger slithering up Voldemort's spine.
Before the tip of that unusual sword could enter his back, a force grabbed it, Black's entire unarmored hand shuddering.
Voldemort slowly turned and looked at the boy.
From behind, Ron, Draco, and Harry rushed forward, screaming.
"That's the third time… someone survived a Killing Curse," the Dark Lord observed, cocking his left and right as if he could see Black's eyes through the helmet's secrets. "Let's see… Does this armor… protect your mind as well? Imperio!"
Charging like mad Hippogriffs, Harry, Ron, and Draco suddenly came to a stop.
Black, wearing a magical bluish helmet and an armor on his left arm, walked around Voldemort, wielding the sword in his right hand.
Then, to their utter horror, tiny magical discs appeared under his feet, and he shot toward them, raising the sword.
"Imperius Curse!" Draco shouted. "I told that bastard to focus on that Workshop…"
How were they going to fight their own friend, especially with Voldemort eying them down with that twisted smile on his face?!
In the very next moment, Black was already on them, the sword raised high.
A growl entered their ears just before a massive Werewolf slammed into Black and sent both of them rolling.
For a moment, just for a moment, Harry's eyes flashed with hope, his head turning to his left.
But Lupin still lay where he had fallen.
Which meant this Werewolf was Hermione.
Sadness overwhelmed Harry's heart, tears and feelings of revenge covering his face. "Help Hermione…" he said. "I… will keep Voldemort occupied."
"Is this the time to play a Hero?!" Draco snapped. "Why would he let you indulge him, you fool?! Has all the talk of being special gone to your head?!"
But Harry just knew that Voldemort wanted him… So, trusting in that intuition, he kept walking forward. His wand shuddered along with his hand, his breath breaking as memories of time spent with Lupin kept flashing in his head.
Draco and Ron were about to pull Harry back when a howl of pain rang to their right.
Black's sword had traced a fiery blue arc, cutting the Werewolf across the chest, blood painting his magical armor.
Draco and Ron cursed and rushed to help Hermione, lest Black end up doing something that he would regret for his entire life.
If Harry had told them that he would keep Voldemort occupied, then… they had no choice but to believe him at this moment.
"They called you my downfall, I remember," Lord Voldemort said, walking toward Harry as the boy walked approached him. "That night, your mother left upon you the traces of sacrifice… Old magic. I should have remembered it... But no matter. Here we are… facing each other once again. No mother to help you this time, Harry. Dumbledore… Haha… He won't be coming to save you, either. Worry not. I will give you a chance to put up a fight, generous as I am. I heard Dumbledore's trying out something unique at Hogwarts. Battle Workshops, is it? Surely you must have learned how to duel in these… foolish classes."
Harry and Voldemort came to a stop a dozen feet away from each other.
On one side, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were barely containing Black under Voldemort's imperious curse. Sirius was out cold somewhere. Barty Crouch Jr. was lying on the ground, looking toward Voldemort admiringly from afar. Bellatrix's moans lingered in the surroundings, her body buried under layers of dirt. Daphne was lying against a tombstone behind the Dark Lord. Her friend had yet to wake up, still lying among the Shrieking Shack's ruins.
And… Lupin was dead.
That thought kept prickling Harry's mind, like needles.
"And now…" Voldemort said, raising his wand, "… we duel!"