80 Ch80. Christmas Gift 2
Dumbledore stared at the pile of coal with wide eyes, thousands of thoughts going through his mind at once when he suddenly heard.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Dumbledore barely managed to get out of his stupor and turn around. As he was turning he transfigured the ground into a thick wall, making the Killing Curse hit it. The wall exploded, sending debris all around but Dumbledore already had a very advanced shielding charm in front of him that protected him from them. He swished his wand in the direction of the Quirrelmort and fired a stunner.
Quirrelmort was panicking until... he froze.
"Give me the control!" A sinister voice sounded from behind the turban as Voldemort took control of Quirrel's body, killing the man. He knew this would mean he lost the chance to be reborn but he could possibly kill Dumbledore!
Quirrel's body would last for twenty minutes but it was already dead. Voldemort didn't have to take care of it and could use his firepower carelessly!
Dumbledore's eyes widened as he suddenly jumped to the side, a dark blasting curse missing him by an inch. The wall behind him exploded as the curse hit it, sending dust flying all around and Dumbledore was sure that the entire castle felt that impact.
"Well, well, well... Rolling on the ground, are we?" Voldemort taunted as he tapped the tip of the wand he held on his free palm in a mocking gesture and slowly but confidently walked to the side with a menacing grin on Quirrel's face.
Dumbledore was lying on the floor, he suddenly swiftly twisted his body to face Voldemort and sent an overpowered Patronus onto him.
Voldemort may have had a body for now but he was still a wraith. The Patronus burned him but that was not such a problem. The problem was that it blinded him!
He could suddenly feel his body being impaled by a rock spear, most likely conjured and banished by Dumbledore.
"Tom, give up. We can still strive for the light together. Give up and let me show you the magnificence of the Lemon Drops!"
Voldemort didn't feel pain. But he was helluva confused. Lemon Drops? Wha-
Dumbledore felt Tom's momentary lack of concentration and cut off a hand with a cutter. Voldemort screamed in pain as the hand fell to the ground. This body was… insufficient.
"Tom. It is meaningless. You don't have your own body. Your magic is weake-"
As Voldemort listened to him talking he suddenly shrieked.
Weak!? Him!?
He raised his remaining hand clutching the wand. "Fiendfyre!" He screamed.
"Oh, shit." Dumbledore mumbled as he quickly pulled out the big guns. The walls started to be transfigured into big golems that started to wrestle with the fiery snake vying to annihilate anything around. The golems were six meters tall and two meters wide as they took hold of the snake and didn't let it go, no matter how it thrashed.
Dumbledore knew Voldemort could possibly just dissolve the snake into flames and bypass the golems by reforming it a bit away so he quickly transfigured a few big debris into lions that promptly attacked him, keeping him busy.
Voldemort saw the lions and his hand blurred into a spell chain of a bone-shattering curse, blood-boiling curse, and a killing curse, killing the three lions almost simultaneously and then ending the chain with a bone-breaker in Dumbledore's direction.
Dumbledore was casting a very complicated transfiguration when he noticed the spell flying at him. He had no time and if he didn't do anything, it would impact his wand arm! He quickly twisted to the side and put his free hand in the path of the curse and his hand was impacted by the bone-breaker. He could feel his bones shattering but gritted his teeth as his wand arm jabbed his wand in Voldemort's direction.
For Voldemort, it was just a second after he finished the spell chain that he felt a banishing spell hit him and Quirrel's body flew five meters backward, skidding on the floor as many bones broke in it.
Snarling he stood up, feeling the bones creaking.
"You will never defeat me!" He shouted and caught the spell Dumbledore sent with his wand.
"Another banishing spell... really." He mocked and sent the spell back at Dumbledore twice as fast.
Dumbledore just sent another banisher when he saw his previous coming back at him. He halted it with his wand and rebounded it back onto Voldemort right before sidestepping another killing curse.
"Tom, you can't win! You can only accept your second chance!" Dumbledore shouted.
Voldemort sidestepped the banisher and was about to taunt again but then he heard Dumbledore's voice.
"Enough of this!" He shrieked and Dumbledore's eyes got serious.
'Fucker, can't he just flee? I need him to kill Harry in some grand spectacle of a battle, not me!' Dumbledore inwardly cursed.
The two wizards started to exchange spell after spell, side-stepping, blocking, and parrying while rebounding them. It was a flurry of variously colored bolts as the two combatants fought. Neither used any long-casting spells as the clash was so high-speed that neither had a chance to use these.
Dumbledore had no time for any meaningful transfiguration in the onslaught of the killing, blasting, blood-boiling, and bone-breaking curses. He was supremely glad about that. These weren't like the really advanced dark curses that had various effects from poisoning to corrosion or even prevention from healing. These were basic spells. Basic but fast as fuck and he had to spend every second making split-decisions to deal with the quickness Voldemort was throwing them at him. He knew the second one hits, it would give Voldemort time to cast something more… exotic.
Voldemort was guarding against small transfigured felines and hawks, killing them with his spell chains almost as quickly as they were created while evading any direct stunner, body-binder, or banisher sent in his direction.
They didn't fight with their best. Dumbledore was injured and Voldemort didn't have his own body. The fight was slowly ending as the time passed twenty minutes and Quirrel's body barely held on by Voldemorts will alone.
But eventually, it crumbled to dust as the shrieking black wraith of the Dark Lord fled and Dumbledore slumped onto the ground.
He looked around the room and saw it totally wrecked.
"Now... how to explain this." He mumbled to himself, already growing a headache from the shitstorm this would cause.
His eyes set at the pile of coal that was surprisingly protected by the strong wards he put up to protect the mirror! That meant nobody dismantled them!
"Did the mirror really walk away by itself?" Dumbledore mused darkly.
As he eyed the pile, he spotted a letter there. He came closer and opened it, his eyes going wide.
---
Albus, my boy!
You were a bad, bad boy! I took it upon myself to reward your misdeeds by a pile of coal! You didn't even deserve one coal but I am generous and gave you an entire pile! I must say, am so proud of you, my bearded colleague!
Oh, by the way, I also took the shiny red gem. It would go well with my costume, you see. Not like you would ever need that useless rock. Just think of it as a payment for the incredible coal that can be used in your hearth for warming you up during the cold, cold nights.
By the way, which beard wax do you use? You look silly. Here, advice from your eternal idol Santa, reindeer piss mixed with fresh snow and House-elven ear wax is the best for shiny beards! As your senior, I felt the need to enlighten you, my dear boy!
Yours truly, Santa Claus.
---
Dumbledore stared dumbly at the letter with his mouth open.
"Santa Claus... I will find you and we will have a 'friendly talk'." He gritted out. "I will show you exactly the greatness of my Wizarding Wax for Balding Gentlemen! And then, after you accept your defeat at the sight of the hair of my magnificent beard, my dear unknown friend... I will take my philosopher stone back, painfully!"
He once again peered at the destroyed room and frowned.
"Fifty points to Gryffindor. For the great supporting skill and not getting in the way of this fight." He whispered, cheering himself up.
Just then the various Professors, some still in nightgowns burst into the room.
"Albus! What happened?" Minerva was the first to approach him and gasped at his injured arm.
"I fought Voldemort." He said gravely, making them all gasp even more. "Thankfully, I was strong enough to drive him away." He said sagely.
"What will we do, Albus!" Minerva worriedly asked.
"Alas, Minerva, let's go sleep." He uttered and with a hum, he strode it out, his left arm still shattered, hanging from his shoulder.
"And he wonders why we call him senile..." The Auror/Potion teacher for the year exclaimed in exasperation.
