Voldemort and Dumbledore battled in midair. If one judged the fight only by their clothing, Dumbledore was clearly in much better shape.
Dumbledore's outfit was intact overall, with no obvious tears or damage.
The edges of Voldemort's robes had already become ragged strips, almost rivaling the hem of a Dementor's cloak, with plenty of scorch marks and cuts.
"Dumbledore, don't you care whether those Aurors live or die?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes slightly and swung his wand hard, flinging out several streaks of ghostly light.
The ghostly light seemed almost solid, giving off a piercing whistle as it tore through the air, appearing before Dumbledore in the blink of an eye.
Dumbledore pressed his lips together and did not answer. He turned his wrist and conjured a shield, blocking the ghostly light while thrusting out his wand, his movements swift beyond belief, nothing like what a hundred-year-old man should have been capable of.
Invisible magical ripples lunged toward Voldemort. Voldemort raised both hands and clenched them in the air, snuffing out the invisible surge of magic, then neatly swung out another streak of ghostly light.
Though the ghostly light let out an even louder sound as it split the air, it did not drown out Voldemort's taunting voice. "It seems Dumbledore has changed. He no longer cares whether they live or die..."
"Looks like you're just like me!" Gray smoke rolled around him, making him shift to Dumbledore's side like a specter. "Avada Kedavra!"
The water beneath Dumbledore's feet began to churn, carrying him away from the streak of ghostly light. A suit of armor made of frost leapt from the water and blocked the Killing Curse Voldemort shot at him.
Whoosh!
Still without replying, Dumbledore waved his wand. A gale suddenly took shape; though the raging wind was invisible,