Though Quirrell stood before him, Snape knew well it wasn't the professor. This was the person he feared and hated most in his life.
A red glint flashed in Voldemort's eyes, and the corners of his mouth curled into a mocking sneer.
"So, you intend to raise your wand against me?"
Snape's hand trembled as he gripped his wand. No one understood the depth of the Dark Lord's long-standing dread better than his own Death Eaters.
"If... if you leave now and do not harm Potter, I..."
"I must kill him, Severus. You are welcome to pick up your wand and see if you can stop me!"
Even though he was limited to Quirrell's body and far from his peak state, Voldemort remained as arrogant as ever.
The power of a traditional wizard stems largely from their subjective will.
Just as Dumbledore's power was rooted in love, self-confidence was the primary source of Voldemort's strength.
If he lost that confidence, his power would be reduced by at least ten percent.
Voldemort's vast combat experience guided him toward the most efficient choice.
Seeing Voldemort's familiar aura and hearing his commands, a deep-seated fear took root in Snape's heart.
There was no doubt that even if his raw magic was stronger than Quirrell's, Snape would find it difficult to exert his full strength now.
However, Voldemort had overlooked one thing: Snape's iron-clad will to fulfill his promise to Lily.
Thus, even as fear weakened his magic, it did not shake his resolve to fight.
As Snape's gaze gradually steadied, a flicker of disappointment crossed Voldemort's features.
The Dark Lord didn't want to be entangled with Snape for long. Dumbledore could return at any moment. He needed to take the Philosopher's Stone and depart quickly, lest he jeopardize Victor Wick's plan.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Without a verbal incantation, Voldemort raised his hand and unleashed a vibrant green Killing Curse.
Fortunately, Snape had remained entirely focused on his opponent's movements.
He ducked awkwardly to avoid the curse, while simultaneously sweeping his left hand behind him. A surge of magic sent Harry flying toward the doorway.
"Run!"
After shouting at Harry, Snape violently slashed his wand through the air.
"Sectumsempra!"
Extreme fear could easily transform into extreme rage.
The moment Voldemort struck, Snape's internal state underwent a similar, volatile shift.
Consequently, the power behind this Sectumsempra was not to be underestimated.
"Bang!"
The curse was deflected effortlessly by Voldemort.
The numbness creeping up his arm soured Voldemort's mood instantly.
The magic available in Quirrell's body was simply too meager compared to his true form.
Moreover, while Voldemort controlled the flesh, Quirrell's own consciousness still lurked beneath the surface.
As Snape counterattacked, the sudden surge of fear from that useless fool further sapped Voldemort's strength.
That worthless waste!
Meanwhile, Harry froze by the doorway, realizing the Body-Bind Curse had been lifted. He turned and fled without hesitation.
Professor Wick had once told him that if he ever became a burden in a fight, he must take any chance to escape. He was never to stay behind for some foolish display of shared sacrifice.
His departure might be the only reason his teammates wouldn't face a desperate end.
Fleeing wasn't a lack of courage or an act of cowardice; it was the correct choice to preserve his life and avoid endangering his allies.
Harry wished he had two extra legs as he sprinted to find the other professors for backup.
He had to find Dumbledore, or Professor Wick...
Spells collided, and magic rippled through the circular hall.
Snape grew more confident as the duel progressed; Voldemort was finally showing his limitations.
His combat techniques were peerless, but his raw power was far inferior to his glory days.
Spells that Snape once could never hope to block could now be countered head-on.
This provided Snape with numerous openings...
Voldemort was becoming truly desperate. Quirrell's weak body and fragile spirit were dragging him down, preventing him from ending the fight quickly.
Dumbledore could return at any second, and since the Potter boy had escaped, reinforcements would arrive sooner than expected.
He had to leave. Now.
However, Snape sensed his desperation. He maintained a staunch defense, but the moment Voldemort showed a hint of retreating, Snape would strike boldly to pin him in the hall.
Snape hurled a glass vial toward Voldemort's incoming curse, and the glass shattered upon impact.
The potion inside sprayed in every direction.
Voldemort's face turned ashen as he cast a Shield Charm to deflect the liquid.
However, the potion didn't hit the ground. Instead, it atomized instantly upon contact with his shield.
A strange, pungent scent filled the hall.
In a fit of rage, Voldemort summoned a massive Fiendfyre serpent.
Ordinarily, the cursed fire was extremely effective at incinerating such mists.
However, just as the serpent reared its head, Snape dropped into a crouch. He stacked a Shield Charm over himself and summoned a massive physical shield.
"Boom!"
The moment the Fiendfyre touched the mist, the vapor didn't burn away; it expanded and triggered a massive explosion.
Snape's magical and physical shields shattered instantly, and the blast sent him hurtling toward the doorway.
"Cough, cough..." Snape spat out blood, feeling as though his internal organs had been violently displaced.
When Victor Wick had given him that potion, he certainly hadn't mentioned it carried such explosive force.
Snape pulled out another vial and downed it in one go.
The taste of the potion mixed with the copper tang of blood made him feel nauseous.
But there was no time to dwell on it. He looked up.
Voldemort was still standing in place, not having been sent flying like Snape. His superb combat instincts had allowed him to mitigate the worst of the blast even in a weak vessel.
However, he looked battered. His Shield Charm was gone, and his robes hung in tatters.
His face grim, Voldemort gripped the Philosopher's Stone and took a deep breath near it.
A strand of red mist was drawn from the stone into his nostrils, and his spirit was instantly rejuvenated.
Snape's heart sank toward his stomach.
He struggled to his feet, raising a wand that was now marked with scorch lines.
"I will give you one last chance, Severus. Return to my side and step out of my way," Voldemort said, his voice taut with suppressed rage.
"I told you..." Snape gasped for air. "I cannot let you leave this place!"
Voldemort never gave his followers a second chance. The fact that he was offering one now meant he was truly at his wit's end.
Knowing Voldemort as he did, Snape had no intention of falling for the ruse.
"Follower! You shameful traitor!" Voldemort roared.
He had finally secured the Stone and the chance to kill Potter, yet it was all being ruined by Snape.
"You were the one who betrayed me first, Voldemort!" Snape bellowed, abandoning all titles of respect. "You promised to spare her! But you killed her anyway! You killed—"
"Pfft!"
Snape froze. He slowly looked down and saw a metallic blade protruding from the center of his chest.
A dark veil began to cloud his vision, and the strength drained from his limbs.
As he collapsed and his consciousness began to fade, a figure wrapped in heavy black robes stepped over him.
"Leave quickly. Dumbledore is nearly here."
Snape's pupils constricted. Despite the heavy disguise, he recognized the voice immediately.
*Victor Wick... you freaking stabbed me? This was not part of the deal!*
Snape's world went dark, and he lost consciousness.
Victor Wick glanced down at the fallen Snape with a cold expression, the blade in his hand still dripping with blood.
"Well done..." Voldemort panted. Quirrell's body had reached its absolute limit.
Victor supported Voldemort, turning toward the exit.
However, a tall, thin figure strode into the hall through the doorway.
"Dumbledore!" Voldemort hissed, his pupils shrinking.
Dumbledore's eyes swept over Snape's prone form, and a flash of righteous fury erupted in his gaze.
"Tom... where do you think you're going?"
"Boom!"
The Elder Wand in Dumbledore's hand erupted with a blinding red light.
Victor Wick pulled Voldemort back and raised a newly replaced wand, firing a bolt of purple light in return.
The two spells collided with a thunderous roar.
Victor's arm went numb as he faced Dumbledore in a full-power confrontation for the first time.
The sheer scale of the old wizard's magic was staggering.
Victor didn't use his code magic, relying instead on traditional spellcasting. In an instant, he was being suppressed.
It felt like trying to hold back a falling mountain that was slowly crushing him.
While Dumbledore and Victor were locked in their struggle, Voldemort looked for an opening to strike.
However, the spell-lock between the two wizards ended abruptly.
A massive ripple of magical energy forced the weakened Voldemort back several steps, further infuriating him.
"Crack! Crack!"
The chandelier on the ceiling shattered, raining down shards of glass and metal.
The debris suddenly froze in mid-air and transformed into a swarm of metallic bees that swept toward Dumbledore from every angle.
Dumbledore remained unfazed, flicking his wand to conjure a phoenix of orange-red flames.
The swarm was incinerated upon contact, melting into droplets of molten iron that hissed as they hit the floor.
The moment Dumbledore's line of sight was obscured, Voldemort felt Victor Wick grab his arm.
"Whoosh!"
The figures of Voldemort and Victor Wick vanished instantly from the hall.
"A Portkey... they were certainly well-prepared," Dumbledore sighed, looking down at Snape.
He crouched beside the Potions Master and shook him awake.
"Wake up, Severus. We have a mess to clean up."
"...Someone stabbed me, and you're still making me work? That is a bit much, don't you think?" Snape rasped.
"Stabbed?" Dumbledore inspected Snape's body. "Where is this knife wound?"
Snape blinked and looked down at his chest, only to find that the gruesome injury had vanished. Even his robes were intact.
"What... what happened? Didn't Victor Wick just stab me?"
"Did you use the Lost Mist?" Dumbledore asked.
"You mean the potion I threw earlier?" Snape asked, stunned as he recalled the atomized vapor.
"A potion? Then that must be it..."
"No wonder... no wonder he insisted I throw that vial while I was holding them off..." Snape gritted his teeth. "He never told me the full plan!"