Snape and Voldemort's battle had been over in a flash. Their few exchanges had lasted only a moment.
By the time Anton jumped out, Bella, frantic with worry, was rushing toward her Tom, while Fiennes, equally anxious, hurried toward his friend Snape.
Seeing Anton standing in front of him, Fiennes finally breathed a sigh of relief. He glared viciously at Snape. "Are you insane?!"
He was furious, but still swiftly drew his wand and cast a counter-curse against Snape's Sectumsempra.
The Dark Lord truly lived up to his name. The spell had inflicted such terrible damage that Fiennes had to cast the counter-curse over and over just to stem the bleeding and slowly help Snape recover.
Meanwhile, the arrogant Lord Voldemort shoved Bella away. A mere flesh wound was no reason to let someone support him in front of everyone. He simply fixed his cold gaze on Anton.
"Are you really planning to go to war with me, Anton?"
Anton thought it over, then nodded lightly. "Doesn't matter. Some people might stand by and enjoy the show, but if you want a war, I'll give you one!"
He never picked fights, but he had never been afraid of them, either!
His words sounded casual, but they struck the calculating Old Voldy hard.
That was right. Dumbledore was still watching from the sidelines!
And those Ministry of Magic types, like a swarm of flies, were watching him with greedy eyes!
Starting a war with Anton now would be a terrible deal!
The best time would be when his Magic Army arrived, sweeping in with unstoppable momentum!
Voldemort's thoughts grew unsettled, and he could no longer suppress the wound that had nearly split his entire chest in two. Suddenly, he spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Tom!" Bella screamed. She rushed over