Dark Magic Creature: Concealment Spirit

The battle between Voldemort and the Order of the Phoenix members never officially began.

Old Voldy knew very well that his immense influence was built on the terror of death. Though it might seem useless, that kind of influence could come in handy in many situations.

In an "Event Loop" where no one could die, fighting someone weaker than himself was pointless if he couldn't make them fear death or wipe them out completely.

Worse, it could easily weaken the fear people felt toward him and only serve to bolster their confidence to stand against him.

He was far too clever to willingly do something so foolish.

Still, he wasn't someone others could push around. These people were all destined to die by his hand someday. If he stopped obsessing over Neville, whom several Order members were fiercely protecting, he could at least kill a few of them and show he'd made some effort in this fight.

As for whom to kill while he was at it, Harry Potter was the obvious first choice.

But he hadn't expected Dumbledore, who had been watching coldly from the sidelines, to step in front of Harry Potter when he attacked.

"Heh heh heh~"

Voldemort tilted his head back and glanced at the enormous clock on the distant Skyscraper, laughing wildly. "Half a minute left! The Nuclear Bomb will explode in half a minute!"

"And yet you're standing in front of Harry Potter, stopping me from killing him—even though you know he won't die?"

Dumbledore simply looked at him coldly. "He's still just a child. The experience of dying is deeply traumatic for anyone, Tom. Why do you always have to do the worst possible thing?"

Voldemort only laughed wildly, staring excitedly at Harry Potter over Dumbledore's shoulder. "I know you too well, Dumbledore.