Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Voldemort's eyes blazed with a ferocious red light, and his offensive showed no signs of abating.

His signature black robe suddenly moved without wind, transforming into countless wisps of gray smoke. These wisps of smoke swirled and coiled around him, as if drawn by an invisible force, quickly condensing into a lifting force that steadily lifted his body.

Enveloped in smoke, as if riding a raging hurricane, with a howling sound tearing through the air, he rapidly approached Dumbledore, who was shrouded in gray mist. The magical energy along the way was thrown into chaos by this unstoppable force.

"Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort roared fiercely, and beams of eerie green light shot out continuously from the tip of his wand.

Each beam of green light carried extreme dark magical energy, moving with lightning speed and as dense as a rain of arrows, shooting relentlessly towards the gray cocoon that trapped Dumbledore.

As the green light streaked across the night sky, it left behind eerie trails. Each impact on the cocoon produced a dull thud, causing the gray mist on the surface of the cocoon to fluctuate violently, as if it could be pierced at any moment. Each attack contained terrifying power capable of being instantly fatal.

High in the sky, the clouds that were originally scattered across the horizon seemed to be attracted by the dense dark aura emanating from Voldemort, and as if summoned by an invisible force, they all converged towards the higher sky.

In just a few breaths, it coalesced into a thick, dark cloud that blotted out the sky, completely obscuring the bright moonlight.

The entire world instantly fell into a deep darkness, with only the green light of the Killing Curse that Voldemort shot out flickering and leaping in the darkness, as dazzling as will-o'-the-wisps, illuminating the ground below in a mottled way, adding to the eeriness and oppression.

Although Dumbledore was shrouded in a thick gray mist, appearing from the outside as if he were on the defensive, Fawkes, the phoenix hovering high above him, showed no sign of anxiety.

It spread its magnificent wings, which looked like they were burning with flames, and slowly hovered in the air above Dumbledore's head, bringing with it warm air currents as it flapped its wings.

At the same time, it continuously emits a melodious and long chant, the tune clear and gentle, like a mountain spring flowing, and carrying an indescribable sacred power, as if it can soothe the restlessness and fear in people's hearts.

The peaceful chanting contrasted sharply with the fierce and dangerous battle below, creating a brief moment of tranquility amidst the overwhelming darkness and the atmosphere of carnage.

"So annoying!" Phoenix Fox's incessant chanting was like fine needles, constantly piercing Voldemort's patience and making his already irritable mood even more agitated.

He abruptly changed the direction of his wand, no longer attacking Dumbledore, but pointing it directly at Fawkes the phoenix in the air. His jaw clenched, and he almost squeezed out the deadly spell through clenched teeth: "Avada Kedavra!"

A chilling green light, carrying a fierce killing intent, shot towards Phoenix Fox at breakneck speed.

But Phoenix Fox seemed to have anticipated Voldemort's attack. Just as the green light was about to hit it, a dazzling golden flame suddenly ignited in front of it, as hot and bright as the sun, instantly engulfing its figure.

Before the green light of the Killing Curse could fully reach him, Phoenix Fox's figure disappeared into the golden flames, narrowly escaping the fatal blow without suffering any damage.

The next second, the golden flame lit up again in the sky a little further away. After the light faded, Phoenix Fox's figure reappeared.

It shook off the embers of the fire that had not yet dissipated from its wings, and continued to flap its wings calmly, singing that melodious tune as if the deadly attack had never happened. Its composure and calmness only fueled Voldemort's rage.

"Well done, Fox."

Dumbledore's gentle and steady voice came from the gray mist, with a hint of approval in his tone.

As soon as he finished speaking, the gray misty cocoon that enveloped him shattered instantly, and countless gray wisps of smoke were pushed aside by an invisible force, rapidly dispersing to both sides.

The dissipated smoke did not completely dissipate, but instead reformed behind him, forming two enormous fans that, like outstretched wings, slowly flapped, emitting a faint silver halo. As the halo flowed, it contained a vast and pure magical energy.

Dumbledore slowly raised his wand, stretched his arm slightly forward, and pointed gently forward.

The pair of silver wings formed from smoke behind him instantly disintegrated, turning into countless thin, silky ribbons of smoke. Each ribbon shimmered with a faint silver light, as if it had its own life, flexibly weaving and traversing in the air.

These ribbons pressed rapidly towards Voldemort from all directions, forming an impenetrable net. Each ribbon contained powerful binding magical energy, making it difficult to break free once entangled.

Dumbledore tapped his wand forward again, and the thin ribbons formed from the decomposed smoke instantly transformed under the pull of an invisible force, rapidly intertwining and binding together, like weaving a giant net, forming in the blink of an eye a magical cage shimmering with brilliant silver light.

The cage walls were made of countless ribbons of smoke, with silver patterns flowing continuously on them, radiating a powerful binding force. Caught off guard, Voldemort, still enraged, was firmly imprisoned in the center.

The moment the cage took shape, it began to contract and squeeze inward, the cage walls tightening continuously, attempting to completely suppress Voldemort and prevent him from casting any more magic.

"Damn old man, why aren't you dead yet! Don't even think about trapping me!" Voldemort instantly sensed Dumbledore's intention, a ruthless and unwilling glint in his eyes.

He swiftly twisted his wrist, his wand tracing a smooth, rounded arc in the air, while he rapidly chanted obscure and difficult-to-understand dark magic incantations. The syllables of the incantations, imbued with a rich aura of darkness, echoed through the air.

The once incredibly sturdy, shimmering silver magical cage suddenly dimmed under the influence of this dark magic spell, and the silver patterns gradually faded.

Immediately afterwards, the cage transformed into a thick, impenetrable black mist, as black as ink, tightly enveloping Voldemort's body and isolating him from external constraints.

He suddenly pointed his wand straight at Dumbledore, and the thick black mist seemed to be infused with life and power, instantly condensing into a huge, rapidly spinning vortex following the trajectory indicated by the wand.

The vortex spun at an astonishing speed, whistling sharply as it tore through the air, and hurtled toward Dumbledore.

The center of the vortex was pitch black, like a bottomless abyss, emanating a terrifying aura that devoured everything. Wherever it passed, the surrounding magical energy was thrown into chaos, and even space itself seemed to subtly distort. Rumble!
Just as this thrilling standoff was unfolding, high in the sky, the dark clouds that had been drawn together by Voldemort's dark aura had grown into a massive, oppressive thundercloud, so thick it seemed to weigh down the entire sky.

Within the thunderclouds, streaks of silvery-white lightning flashed and darted through the depths of the clouds, like lurking silver snakes, emitting deep and heavy thunderous roars, like the roars of ancient beasts, constantly echoing between heaven and earth.

The muffled thunder, like a warning before a storm, filled the entire world with an extremely oppressive atmosphere, as if foreshadowing a devastating storm about to descend.

Faced with the approaching vortex of black mist, Dumbledore remained calm and unmoved.

He simply raised his wand slightly, pressed his arm down gently, his movements calm and confident.

"Crack!"

A crisp, ear-piercing bang ripped through the night sky, drowning out all the thunder and howling.

Suddenly, a bright and dazzling silver-white bolt of lightning shot out from within the thunderclouds, like a sword cleaved down by a god, carrying immense power capable of destroying the world. It instantly pierced through layers of black mist and struck the rapidly spinning vortex of black mist with pinpoint accuracy.

Under the powerful impact of the lightning, the black mist instantly disintegrated and dissipated like shattered glass, turning into countless tiny black particles that slowly drifted away in the air, completely losing all destructive power.

Before the first silvery-white bolt of lightning had completely dissipated, a second, thicker and more dazzling bolt of lightning followed closely behind, followed by a third, a fourth... Within a few seconds, countless silvery-white bolts of lightning shot out from the thunderclouds, so densely packed that they resembled countless silver snakes, weaving together in the air into a giant net of lightning.

These bolts of lightning were several times faster than the Killing Curse Voldemort had previously cast. They rained down on Voldemort like a deluge, each bolt carrying enough power to severely injure or even kill him.

Voldemort was enveloped in thick gray smoke once again, even denser than before, which carried his body as he dodged and weaved through the air at an almost imperceptible speed.

His figure moved nimbly amidst the lightning, narrowly avoiding fatal attacks. The previous offensive and defensive situation was completely reversed at this moment—Dumbledore launched a fierce and continuous counterattack with the help of the natural power of the thunderclouds, while the arrogant Voldemort was forced into a passive defensive situation, looking utterly disheveled.

Those dense, silvery-white bolts of lightning seemed to possess precise tracking capabilities, like soul-locking chains that pinned down their prey, tightly binding Voldemort's dark aura.

No matter how quickly he dodged or how suddenly he changed direction, these bolts of lightning always managed to accurately track him down, relentlessly pursuing his trail and forcing him to dodge with all his might, daring not to pause for even a moment, for fear of being entangled by any bolt of lightning.

Silvery-white lightning streaked across the night sky, illuminating Voldemort's disheveled figure as he fled in disarray, a stark contrast to his previous arrogant and all-powerful demeanor, now revealing his utter wretchedness.

On the grass outside Hogwarts Castle, Cornelius Fudge stared intently at the battle in the night sky. Watching Voldemort being chased around by countless bolts of lightning, his tense nerves finally relaxed, and a look of relief appeared on his face.

He turned to look at Dylan beside him, his tone carrying an undisguised sense of relief: "It seems... we don't need to go to Azkaban."

Headmaster Dumbledore clearly has a significant advantage; Mystic is too preoccupied with his own problems to spare any energy for anything else!

"It is precisely because Headmaster Dumbledore has a significant advantage at this moment that Voldemort is more likely to turn his attention to Azkaban."

Dylan shook his head slightly, his tone calm but with an undeniable certainty, his eyes showing no sign of relaxation. "Tonight is the day he announces his high-profile return. This global speech was meticulously planned by him. He has always maintained control over the Black Mark. He would never let things end so hastily and lose face."

To rally more people to his side and prove his power remains undiminished, he must do something truly earth-shattering to demonstrate his formidable authority.

"Dylan is right."

Barty Crouch quickly realized what was going on and added with a serious expression and deep concern, "Judging from the current situation, although Headmaster Dumbledore has the upper hand, Voldemort's strength is still formidable, and it will probably be difficult for them to decide the outcome in a short time."

Furthermore, Voldemort controls the Dark Mark, and he can manipulate the images presented to wizards worldwide at will—meaning that most wizards see only the illusion he wants them to see, not the true battle situation.

He paused, his gaze growing increasingly serious, and continued, "As long as he finds an opportunity, either to regain the upper hand or to create the illusion that he is still strong, or even suppressing Dumbledore, he will immediately use magic to get rid of Dumbledore's entanglement."

His most likely next move is to immediately head to Azkaban to rescue the loyal Death Eaters imprisoned there.

Once these experienced and fiercely loyal Death Eaters are freed and join his ranks, his power will rapidly expand, and the situation in the entire wizarding world will become even more uncontrollable!

"How could this be!" Connelly Fudge's relief vanished instantly, replaced by shock and fear.

He couldn't quite process what was happening for a moment; his mind was a mess, and his voice trembled noticeably: "He... he's going to break him out of prison? That's Azkaban! The most secure and tightly guarded prison in the magical world! How dare he!"

Barty Crouch did not respond, but his face grew increasingly gloomy, and his brows furrowed tightly.

He knew Voldemort's ambition and ruthless methods well; as long as it could enhance his strength and expand his influence, Voldemort would never hesitate or have any reservations.

The loyal Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban were undoubtedly a huge and urgently needed asset for Voldemort, and he would certainly try every means to rescue them and use them for his own purposes.

A new crisis is brewing, and Azkaban is about to become the next eye of the storm. (End of Chapter)