The secret of Voldemort's resurrection.
To those in the know, like Snape and the others, it had long since stopped being some earth-shattering secret.
So earlier, when Harry Potter had been talking to Voldemort, Snape and the others had not shown much shock or surprise.
Not until just now, when they heard something unbelievable from Harry Potter's own mouth.
The Boy Who Lived.
The Chosen One of the British wizarding world.
The wizard with the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
And... Voldemort's Horcrux?
The moment Snape heard Harry Potter's words, he realized something. He was no fool, but he still pretended to be calm and snapped, "Is this another one of your self-important ideas? Don't tell me you really think you're some sort of Chosen One, Potter!"
Anyone with a brain could understand.
To stop Voldemort from resurrecting, every Horcrux had to be destroyed.
In other words, if Harry Potter was also one of the Horcruxes, then that meant... he had to sacrifice himself.
At that thought, Snape acted as if he were trying to deceive even himself, shoving Harry Potter away and trying to get him out of there.
But Harry Potter was never going to understand that awkward concern.
"I have to let him kill me!"
Harry Potter pressed hard against the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.
His whitening fingertips showed just how much force he was using. "Because the piece of soul inside me is Voldemort's Horcrux!"
The low growl that followed made Snape's hands and feet stiffen.
He suddenly understood, and he realized he had been completely deceived by that bastard Dumbledore.
"He... knew about this all along, didn't he?"
And yet Dumbledore had not told him a word of it, not even before he died.
On this matter, Snape could be absolutely certain that Dumbledore must have known.
Harry Potter, who had no idea what Snape was talking about, swept his gaze over the surroundings. "Only if I die can Voldemort truly be stopped. Otherwise, he'll only resurrect again."
"....."
"I'm the seventh Horcrux. I'm something that has to be destroyed."
Snape's pale lips trembled slightly.
Those same green eyes.
Once again, he felt that powerless helplessness, the feeling that there was nothing he could do.
...
A one-on-one wizard duel did not actually involve many overly complicated techniques.
Aside from the basic amount of magic one possessed, the battle mainly revolved around Apparition.
Simply put, whoever mastered the technique of Apparition could seize control of the battlefield.
That was why Draco and Voldemort could now be seen vanishing and appearing again and again, while spells occasionally tore through the air in flashes.
It looked as though they were not making many moves, and the fight did not seem especially lively, but in truth, only Draco and Voldemort themselves knew just how dangerous their battle was.
A single careless mistake could mean death by the Killing Curse or Sectumsempra.
Draco vanished from where he stood once more.
Narrowing his eyes at Voldemort, who had disappeared again, Draco knew very well that whether it was experience or magical reserves, he was indeed the one at a disadvantage.
No matter how much of a genius he was, this was a gap in accumulated foundation.
But even though Draco understood that clearly, there was not the slightest trace of fear on his face. Instead, a faint smile appeared, as if everything was going according to plan.
Voldemort noticed it.
With a cold laugh, he intensified his attack. "I don't know what you're planning, but before overwhelming strength, no trap is of any use!"
From a certain point of view, this could also be considered a kind of psychological warfare.
Even so, Draco's expression did not waver at all. It was as if he truly believed that all of this would eventually bring the turning point.
And when that moment came, it would be the beginning of the counterattack.