chapter 21

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His fingers were turning numb. His whole arm hurt. With each breath of air he sucked in, his lungs protested. Was this the effects of poison? Time was running short; His system was going to shut down soon.

Dream was glad that he managed to get to the battle on time. The fact that his friends knew where he was, was kinda relieving. Even if it was embarrassing because Techno carried him. He glances at Harry and noticed that he wanted tk protect Harry and that in itself was nice.

He was a dead man anyway. But Dream wouldn't give up without a fight, he was stubborned after all. If he died without killing Voldemort, everything he did from the start would be in vain. He knew that his grandfather would proceed with killing countless other wizards after he killed Harry.

An outbreak of a magical war would be devastating. Dream, himself had lived through two wars even though it was only for power but thinking about all these, a fresh determination surged through him. Drea. would do anything, anything at all, to bring the downfall of Lord Voldemort.

The throbbing pain on his injures was no more than a sore muscle. As the pain receded momentarily, Dream could feel his breathing becoming a little smoother.

The adrenaline blocked out the agony of the wound and poison, as Dream gets ready, again.

He saw Voldemort's eyes widen, as he raised his wand. Perhaps he read into the defiance in Dream's masked eyes. However, that look of fear lasted for only a second, before it was replaced by a scowl.

Though Voldemort did not speak, a jet of blinding green light shot out of the tip of Voldemort's wand, aiming directly.

It was easy. Dream dodged the attack and went onto his knees as if he was kneeling.

But Dream didn't stop there. He knew what he had to do. Dream started to cast spells. Dream advanced slowly, dodging and deflecting each curse Voldemort sent at him.

Thunder rumbled in the sky, though he could not see any lightning. The winds became increasingly stronger, rippling through the black cloaks of the Death Eaters.

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed.

That had been a close one. Voldemort's curse missed his head by inches. Dream could feel the hair on the top of his head being parted by the spell.

The closer he got to Voldemort, the less time he had to react to each curse cast by his opponent. Dream was roughly three meters away from Voldemort, which put the latter just out of reach.

With each step Dream took forward, Voldemort took a step back. Dream was about to do a quick lunge at Voldemort, when Harry shouted from afar.

"Dream!" Harry yelled.

Dream cast a quick glance at Harry's direction, before concentrating back on Voldemort. Somehow, Harry had managed to free himself from the ropes.

At the exact same time, Dream gave out a grunt. Voldemort had feinted a spell at his legs, and instead sending a curse at his chest. Too late, before Dream could do anything, the curse hit Dream square in the chest.

It was the Cruciatus Curse. Dream felt invisible knives dig into his body, repeatedly stabbing him over and over again. He soon fell onto his knees, using his has as a support.

"DREAM!" Harry yelled out

Voldemort laughed, stepping up to Dream, who bit his tongue to prevent himself from showing any sign of weakness. The Death Eaters watched expectantly as Voldemort raised his wand at his grandson, who lifted his sword weakly, in an agonizing attempt to block the worst.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed.

Dream watched in slow motion as the green jet of light flew at him at point-blank distance. There was nothing he could do. His arms were heavy, and the air was dry. There was no water to call to his aid. This was the end. Dream heard a desperate yell from Harry's direction.

But at the last second, an invisible force expanded between him and Voldemort. It looked as though the air had solidified in front of him, and the Killing Curse was deflected.

"NO!" Voldemort shrieked.

Out of the corners of his eye, Dream saw Harry's wand raised. Harry had saved him, with whatever shield charm he'd casted.

The shield charm soon died, giving Voldemort another clear shot at Dream.

Voldemort pressed his palm into the wound that Dream had inflicted on him. Voldemort leered at him, raising his wand once again.

However, this time, Harry shouted, "Leave him alone! If you want to kill me, then this is your chance."

Harry's wand hand was steady, pointing it directly at Voldemort. In return, Voldemort turned to Harry, wand raised.

"You and your friends will die, Harry Potter. Clay's wound is fatal. He has only minutes left to live. And you, Harry Potter, the boy who lived, will be slaughtered by my hand."

Dream's vision blurred, sliding in and out of focus. And then he heard Voldemort's high shriek, followed by Harry's shout.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

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