Whether he was genuinely curious about the so-called secret or truly wary of something, Voldemort did not rush to attack. Instead, he stopped and seemed willing to hear what Harry Potter had to say.
This made the worried Snape let out a long breath of relief.
Looking at Harry Potter before him, Voldemort's face was full of mockery.
"Love again? Dumbledore's treasured weapon, love. He claimed it could conquer death, yet it couldn't stop him from falling from the tower and smashing apart like an old wax figure!"
"....."
Harry Potter widened his bloodshot eyes.
"Love didn't stop me from crushing your parents like ants, Potter."
"Shut up!"
"And this time, no one will step forward out of love for you and block my curse again. So when I strike, how could you possibly survive this time? Tell me, Potter!"
Voldemort's laughter made Harry Potter's green eyes redden.
Clearly, if Voldemort's past was something he did not want mentioned, then for Harry Potter, the deaths of his loved ones were memories he did not want to recall.
...
Voldemort lifted his eyes to Harry Potter, who stood before him with confidence, and let out a cold laugh. "If it isn't love saving you this time, then you must believe you possess magic I do not, or that you have a weapon more powerful than mine?"
"Maybe both?"
Seeing Voldemort's slight frown, Harry Potter shrugged.
At Harry Potter's answer, Voldemort burst into laughter.
That laugh was even more terrifying than his shouts, cold, cruel, and mad as it echoed through the silent night sky.
"You think you know more magic than I do? More than I, Lord Voldemort? The magic I have performed is beyond anything Dumbledore ever dreamed of!"
"Oh, he thought of it. But he was wiser than you. He didn't do the things you did."
"You mean he was weak! He was weak and lacked courage. He was weak and didn't dare take what should have belonged to him, and now will belong to me!"
"No. He was smarter than you. A better wizard. A better being."
"I killed Albus Dumbledore!"
"You think so, but you're wrong."
Harry Potter's words finally made Voldemort's expression change for the first time.
Behind them, Lucius, who had been waiting for an opportunity, could not help drawing in a breath.
Could Dumbledore really not be dead?
"Dumbledore is dead!"
Voldemort hurled those words at Harry as if they could bring him unbearable pain.
"His body is rotting in a marble tomb on the castle grounds. I saw it, Potter. He will never come back!"
"Yes, Dumbledore is dead, but not because you arranged it. He chose the manner of his own death. He chose it months before he died, and he arranged everything together with the person you believed was your servant."
"What childish, ridiculous nonsense!"
Voldemort's red eyes stared fixedly into Harry's.
It was as if he wanted to read something from Harry Potter's eyes.
But before he could see anything, a sharp sound suddenly cut through the air beside him. It was the sound of something flying toward them at high speed from far away.
What was that?
The disturbance in the sky made Voldemort and the others below all look up.
Was that a fireball?
No... it was a wooden dragon, its whole body on fire, falling from the sky!
And its master, Barty Crouch Jr.!