Voldemort descended onto the grounds amid billowing black vapor, surveying the corpses strewn across the ground and the hatred in the wizards' eyes.
He shook his bald head and said with feigned compassion:
"Tsk, tsk, tsk... what a sorrowful sight... what a heartbreaking scene..."
Excitement flickered in his scarlet eyes, their red glow growing ever more piercing.
"Dumbledore, I suggest we observe a moment of silence for the departed... what do you say?"
Voldemort lowered his head, but after just one second, he raised it again and asked in puzzlement:
"Why aren't you observing a moment of silence? Aren't you sad? Dumbledore, you're such a hypocrite. You won't even bother pretending..."
Dumbledore's voice was cold as ice. He was beside himself with rage, and endless storms seemed to be brewing in his ocean-blue eyes.
"Tom... I never imagined you would do something like this. I must admit, I underestimated the depths of your depravity. I had intended to seek you out after the Goblet of Fire ended and bring this whole affair to a close.
"To leave the young wizards a clean new world..."
"HAHAHAHA!" Voldemort abruptly burst into wild laughter. "Don't flatter yourself! You will never match me!"
He slowly walked over to Barty Crouch Jr., reached out to stroke his head, and said gently:
"Excellent, my loyal servant. You've done very well-you will receive rewards beyond your imagination."
Then Voldemort looked at Dumbledore and said smugly:
"Muggle weapons proved unexpectedly useful. The Muggles in that church last time gave us the idea, and my Death Eaters strongly urged me to use Muggle weapons.
"I've always been so accommodating, so I gave them free rein to try. The results were quite good...
"Look at you. You haven't even done anything to Barty Crouch Jr., who orchestrated all of this.