"Who do you think I am?"
Just as Harry was beginning to think he might have come for nothing, with so many people on their side that he would have no chance to act, Voldemort suddenly let out a roar.
Harry hurriedly drew his gaze away from Bellatrix-well, although she had not yet lost, she had taken several more spells, and quite a few holes had been blasted in her clothes.
The moment he turned toward Voldemort, he saw countless points of black starlight burst from around him, shooting in every direction. The dozen or so wizards surrounding him all dodged aside, but several were too slow, and the black starlight immediately pierced their bodies.
Although the Ministry of Magic Alliance had not come through the fighting entirely unscathed, all their injuries had been minor. Anyone injured was immediately replaced—at least fifty or sixty people were watching eagerly from the sidelines without a chance to join in.
But now, the number of wounded suddenly jumped by several.
And unlike before, every wizard struck suffered penetrating wounds. Several were hit in vital areas and died on the spot.
The black starlight covered a huge area, catching even people who had not been among the dozen or so attacking him.
This was an ancient magic spell Harry knew of but had not mastered, and its power was considerable. However, using it would leave the body noticeably rigid...
Sure enough, after Voldemort cast the spell, his body briefly froze. Although it lasted only an instant, and the black, flowing-water-like magical protection still covered him, someone seized the opportunity.
Saklan Osgilia flicked his wand rapidly, and a bolt of red lightning shot from its tip. Strangely, rather than traveling in a straight line, the bolt twisted as it advanced.
It skirted Voldemort's black water