Uh-Oh! Voldemort Grew a Brain!

"HAHAHAHA! Now, your opponents are The Greatest White Wizard—Albus Dumbledore.

His lover, the former Dark Lord—Gellert Grindelwald.

And another young, innocent, disgusting version of me."

The seven Voldemorts' mouths did not move, yet Voldemort's voice came from all of them.

"Dumbledore, a very clever approach.

You gathered a large number of wizards around the outskirts to contain Azkaban's forces.

At the same time, you found a Horcrux and gave him the identity of the main soul.

You used his attempted murder of me in place of my own.

Destroying my immortality.

But unfortunately, there are seven of me now.

How will you, your lover, and your childish apprentice deal with four additional versions of me?"

Voldemort's icy voice rang out along the edge of the island.

Dumbledore and Grindelwald exchanged a glance.

This was bad! Voldemort had grown a brain!

Riddle's gaze turned cold. "Childish apprentice?

You outdated fossil, get back to the old age!

There's no ship in the New World that can carry you!"

A gentle, sacred voice began to sing, like that of the most devout Saint, a gifted choir soloist.

White feathers drifted down from the sky and flew toward the seven figures opposite them.

The seven Voldemorts responded in entirely different ways.

One Voldemort grew countless snake heads from his own head, sacrificing their lives continuously to preserve himself beneath the light feathers.

One Voldemort directly cast a net of light formed from Avadas.

One Voldemort vaporized his flesh, causing the automatically tracking light feathers to lose their target.

The last Voldemort simply raised a head high.

The head opened its mouth and swallowed every light feather that came near.

"Weak! Ridiculous!

Is this what you learned from licking Dumbledore's toes?

Don't tell me you're still that little boy the matrons at Wool's Orphanage trained."