At this very moment, only three wizards remained in the vast circular chamber of the Department of Mysteries.
Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort stood facing each other at the center of the room, while Bellatrix Lestrange trembled in a corner.
Voldemort raised his wand, a beam of green light shooting straight at Dumbledore… but Dumbledore twisted away, moving with windlike speed. The five golden statues burst through the doors of the Department of Mysteries and charged in—
The house-elf and goblin statues lunged at Voldemort from the flanks. Enraged, Voldemort fired two jets of green light, blasting both statues to pieces.
But behind the house-elf and goblin statues stood the centaur statue. Voldemort had no time to cast a third Killing Curse. He shot upward as if sprouting wings, and the centaur statue smashed into the spot he had occupied, shattering into fragments.
Above, Dumbledore was already directing the last two statues—the wizard and the witch. As if prepared in advance, the statues appeared exactly where Voldemort had risen, restraining him from opposite sides.
Yet Voldemort's body vanished in an instant, leaving only a dark shadow. The shadow exploded violently, tearing the wizard and witch statues into shards.
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. Turning, he saw Voldemort reappear behind him.
Voldemort's face was flushed, brimming with excitement and bloodlust.
"Is that all you can do, Dumbledore?" he roared. "Is that all you've got to offer?"
He spat on the floor and unleashed another deadly curse at Dumbledore… but it missed, striking a nearby table and igniting it in flames.
"We both know there are many ways to destroy a man, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly. He walked toward Voldemort as though the battle meant nothing at all. "I must admit, taking only your life wouldn't satisfy me."
"That depends on whether you're capable!" Voldemort bellowed. He flicked his wand, and the blazing fire twisted like a living thing—
It reshaped itself into a massive serpent of flame, coiling around Dumbledore and hissing viciously.
Another green flash soared toward Dumbledore. With the flames trapping him, he had nowhere to dodge. He raised his wand, sending out a purple light that blocked Voldemort's Killing Curse—
But behind him, the fiery serpent suddenly lunged, aiming to sink its fangs into him…
At that critical moment, a strange song drifted through the chamber—a distant, ethereal melody that stirred the senses. The flaming serpent recoiled, as though unnerved.
A burst of fire blossomed behind Dumbledore, and from it emerged a deep crimson bird. Fawkes let out a fierce cry at the fiery serpent.
Though much smaller, she showed no fear of the raging flames. Her golden talons struck again and again, piercing the serpent's head. Within moments, Voldemort's creation was reduced to ashes.
"Well done, Fawkes," Dumbledore said with a small nod.
"That cursed phoenix again!" Voldemort muttered with a scowl.
"I told you—coming here tonight was a foolish decision, Tom." With Fawkes beside him, a faint smile touched Dumbledore's lips.
"Is that so… I don't think so…"
Before he could finish the sentence, agony exploded from deep within Voldemort's soul. His legs buckled, and he collapsed heavily to the floor.
…
Pain pulsed through his entire body. His head felt like it was splitting apart… as if some vital organ had been torn from his body—no, two organs.
"What have you done to me, Dumbledore?" Voldemort whispered, his voice weak.
"I warned you, Tom," Dumbledore said gently. "Coming here tonight was the wrong choice… because I had help."
As he spoke, Dumbledore swept his wand.
"Ding… ding… ding…"
A sound like chiming bells echoed through the chamber as the entire room trembled.
Looking closely, it became clear that the vibration came from the countless golden shards and specks scattered across the floor.
The five statues—wizard, witch, centaur, goblin, and house-elf—had all been shattered by Voldemort. But now, the fragments quivered and lifted into the air.
"Master, be careful!" Bellatrix Lestrange rasped.
"Be quiet, Bella… This is not a battle you can touch!" Voldemort warned through trembling breaths.
The fragments and golden dust stormed toward Voldemort at frightening speed.
Bellatrix instinctively flattened herself against the ground, but even so, shards tore through the skin of her back, dragging agonized screams from her.
Had she been standing, the fragments would have killed her instantly.
Voldemort, caught at the center of the swirling vortex, had no such protection. Fighting through the agony, he raised his wand with trembling hands—
A silver shield materialized from thin air. It floated before him, deflecting the incoming barrage. Each strike against it rang out like a deep gong, chilling to the bone.
But the shield could only block frontal attacks. Strikes from the sides and behind slipped through easily.
Lines of blood split open across Voldemort's body. His robes were shredded, and blood streamed down his torn robes.
…
"You've lost, Tom." Dumbledore stepped within ten yards of him, still fully alert, eyes locked on Voldemort's.
"Dumbledore… what have you done to me?" Voldemort asked weakly, still trembling as he held his wand aloft.
"I'm afraid I don't know myself…" Dumbledore said with a shrug.
The two remained locked in a motionless standoff, neither willing—or daring—to make a move.
Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the Department of Mysteries.
"I think you're the one who's lost, Dumbledore!" Voldemort's weakened face twisted into a savage grin.
At that moment, someone burst into the chamber.