"Tom, crashing someone else's wedding isn't exactly a likable thing to do."
Dumbledore drew his wand and looked at Voldemort standing fifty feet away, a faint smile on his face, as though the man before him were an old friend he had not seen in years rather than a mortal enemy.
From Voldemort's reaction, Dumbledore could already tell that there was an eighty-percent chance he had come here to intercept him. It was rather amusing—he himself had come here to intercept Voldemort. Their purposes were surprisingly identical.
The reason was not hard to guess.
Whether it was the Ministry of Magic, the Death Eaters, Dumbledore himself, or Voldemort before him, all of them were part of someone's plan.
When Voldemort and the Death Eaters had intended to disrupt Albert's wedding, given Albert's character, he was unlikely to let the matter rest.
So Albert had used the Ministry of Magic to teach the Death Eaters a lesson, while the Death Eaters had clearly guessed there might be a trap and decided to play along, making ample preparations of their own.
Dumbledore was not angry.
Neither he nor the Ministry of Magic had suffered any losses.
Albert had achieved a win-win-win outcome.
Before coming here, Scrimgeour had told him that the Ministry of Magic would use Anderson's wedding to set an ambush for the Death Eaters, hoping Dumbledore could hold back The Dark Lord if he appeared at a critical moment.
If the plan succeeded, the Ministry of Magic would gain immense prestige, Dumbledore's relationship with the Ministry could be eased, and, more importantly, Voldemort's forces would suffer a devastating blow. The wizarding world would surely enjoy a period of peace afterward.
"Drop the act. It's revolting."
Voldemort spat disdainfully and fired a lethal spell at Dumbledore. Ominous green light flared around