Duel (rewrite)

Jason's heart sank as the outer wards shattered, their protective glow fading into nothingness with a loud, bone-chilling crack. The air outside seemed to grow colder, heavier, as if even the night itself recoiled at what was coming. He could hear the faint shuffle of boots, the sinister murmurs, and then the voice that froze the very blood in his veins.

Voldemort: "Jason, you called for me . Won't you welcome me?"

Jason exchanged a quick glance with his gran, "Q," who had already drawn her wand. Her usually sharp features were calm but focused, her stance ready for battle. The two stepped out into the moonlit yard, their house now a fragile silhouette against the encroaching shadow.

Across from them stood Voldemort, his pale, snake-like face illuminated by the faint light of his wand. Behind him loomed a dozen Death Eaters, each one eager for bloodshed, their sneering faces contorted with malice.

Jason: [calmly, though his knuckles whitened around his wand] "Gran, floo network. Now. We can't take them all."

Before Q could respond, a familiar voice drawled from among the Death Eaters.

Barty Crouch Jr.: " It won't work . Don't be a coward, Jason boy. You didn't seem so eager to run last time. Why not invite me into your home again?"

Jason's eyes narrowed.

Jason: "I'd kill you before that ever happens, Barty."

Voldemort: [his voice cold, almost mocking] " I must say, I find your bravado... amusing. But let's see whether it's courage or simply the foolishness of youth."

With a flick of Voldemort's wand, a barrage of spells began striking the wards that still separated them. The Death Eaters joined in, their combined onslaught creating a cacophony of magical impact as the shimmering barrier wavered.

Jason's mind raced.

Jason: [to himself] "The Ministry has to be on their way. Any moment now. Hold the line."

But Voldemort's next words hit him like a blow to the chest.

Voldemort: "Ah, the Ministry. Your plan to strengthen it was clever, but alas, not clever enough. You see, there's one flaw—Gawain Robards is mine."

Jason froze, his blood turning to ice.

Voldemort: [smiling cruelly] "Right now, he is freeing Fenrir Greyback, who will ensure Amelia Bones meets her end tonight. Your Ministry, your precious shield, will be left in ruins."

Jason stared, horrified, the weight of those words crushing down on him. If Amelia fell, the Ministry would teeter on the brink of collapse, and everything he'd worked toward would be undone.

Q: [interrupting calmly, her voice cutting through the tension] "Oy, Voldemort. How about you and I strike a deal?"

The Death Eaters laughed, a guttural, derisive sound.

Barty: "And why would we listen to some old hag?"

Q ignored him, her sharp eyes locked on Voldemort.

Jason: [panicked] "Gran, what are you doing? Don't—"

Q: [snapping at him] "Quiet, Jason. I'm handling this."

Voldemort tilted his head, intrigued.

Voldemort: "A deal, you say? What could you possibly offer me?"

Q's lips curled into a smirk.

Q: "I'll lift the wards, and you fight my grandson. One-on-one."

The Death Eaters roared with laughter, but Voldemort held up a hand, silencing them.

Voldemort: [his red eyes gleaming with curiosity] "Interesting. You have my word."

Jason's jaw dropped.

Jason: [angrily] "Gran! What the hell are you doing?"

Q waved him off with a flick of her hand.

Q: "Shut it, boy. I'm talking."

Before Jason could protest further, Q raised her wand, muttering an incantation under her breath. The remaining ward dissolved in a swirl of golden light. The Death Eaters surged forward, eager to pounce, but Voldemort's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

Voldemort: "Stop. This is my fight."

==

The atmosphere was heavy with tension as Voldemort and Jason faced each other in the middle of a desolate battlefield. The skies were dark, swirling with ominous clouds as if the world itself anticipated the carnage that was about to unfold. The wind howled, carrying whispers of dread, as the two powerful wizards prepared for their duel.

Voldemort: [sneering] "Jason Bourne . Let's see if you can survive against the Dark Lord."

Jason: [calmly, with a smirk] "Big words for someone always hiding Shall we get on with it?"

Both raised their wands, the air crackling with raw magic.

Voldemort fired the first spell, a deadly green beam of Avada Kedavra aimed directly at Jason's chest. Jason sidestepped with a burst of speed, his radar sense predicting the spell's trajectory.

Jason: [mocking] "You'll have to do better than that, Tom."

Jason countered with a chain lightning , arcs of electricity leaping toward Voldemort. Voldemort summoned a barrier of black mist with a flick of his wand, absorbing the energy before it could reach him.

Voldemort: "A cheap parlor trick. Allow me to educate you in true power."

He swept his wand in a wide arc, conjuring a torrent of fiendfyre. The fire roared to life, taking the shape of a massive serpent that lunged at Jason.

Jason responded by casting shadow clone, creating two identical copies of himself. One clone charged at Voldemort while the other cast a freezing charm, attempting to solidify the fiendfyre. The real Jason leaped into the air, avoiding the serpent entirely.

The freezing charm held for a moment, but Voldemort shattered it with a Reducto, sending shards of ice flying. He spun to face the charging clone, vanquishing it with a Sectumsempra that sliced it clean in half.

Jason, now airborne, fired a barrage of Confringo blasts from above. Voldemort deflected them with ease, sending one hurtling back. Jason dodged mid-air but was caught off guard by Voldemort's next move—a silent Accio wand. Jason's wand flew from his hand, leaving him vulnerable.

Jason landed hard, his sharingan spinning as he activated his thread manipulation. Thin, razor-sharp threads extended from his robes, snaking toward Voldemort. They wrapped around Voldemort's wand hand, tightening to draw blood.

Jason: [taunting] "Let's see you cast without a hand."

Voldemort: [smirking, unfazed] "Foolish boy."

With his free hand, Voldemort cast a wandless Diffindo, severing the threads and releasing his arm. He followed up with a Crucio, the red light of the curse hitting Jason square in the chest.

Jason screamed, his body convulsing as pain wracked him. Through sheer willpower, he activated beast breathing, flooding his body with adrenaline and allowing him to shake off the curse just enough to roll away.

Jason's sharingan allowed him to see the subtle flicks of Voldemort's wand as the Dark Lord prepared his next spell. Summoning his last reserves, Jason cast shadow camouflage and disappeared into the darkness. Voldemort scanned the battlefield, his lips curling into a smile.

Voldemort: "Hiding, are we? Pathetic."

Jason reappeared behind Voldemort, attempting to strike with a blade of conjured electricity. Voldemort turned at the last moment, blocking the attack with a shimmering black shield.

Voldemort: [mocking] "Did you think that would work?"

He unleashed a powerful explosion curse, sending Jason flying across the battlefield. Jason crashed into the ground, coughing up blood.

Jason struggled to his feet, his radar sense blaring as Voldemort approached. With a flick of his hand, Jason created another shadow clone and sent it charging at Voldemort. The clone cast Expelliarmus wandless , but Voldemort countered with Fiendfyre, obliterating it instantly.

Jason: [gritting his teeth] "I'm not done yet!"

Summoning every ounce of his reserve, Jason cast a massive thunderstorm , bolts of electricity raining down. Voldemort stood in the center of the storm, raising his wand high.

Voldemort: "Enough!"

With an earth-shaking roar, Voldemort cast Inferno Imperium, a dark wave of magic that snuffed out the storm and hurled Jason backward. Voldemort was on him in an instant, his wand pressed against Jason's throat.

Voldemort: [coldly] "Courage is admirable, but foolish. You were never a match for me."

Jason glared up at him, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Jason: [weakly] "Maybe not... but someone will be."

Voldemort: [laughing softly] "Indeed. But it won't be you."

He cast a knockback curse. Voldemort straightened his robes, turning to his Death Eaters who had been watching the duel from a distance.

Voldemort: " This is the fate of who against me "

Jason was flung across the yard breaking his bones and causing internal injury, crashing into his gran's legs by the mailbox. Q caught him instinctively, her face a mixture of shock and fury as she stared down Voldemort.

Voldemort: [calmly, lowering Jason's wand slightly] "Is that all, Jason Bourne? The prodigy of the wizarding world?"

Jason coughed, blood staining his lips as he looked up at his gran.

Jason: [weakly] "Gran... remind me to fireproof the house next time."

Q glared at Voldemort, her grip on Jason tightening.

Q: "You've made a mistake, Voldemort. Never underestimate a family."

The atmosphere around Voldemort was thick with malevolence as his green eyes narrowed. He took in Q's unwavering stance, the air between them crackling with tension.

Voldemort: "You think you're clever, old woman? There's nowhere to run. I've set an anti-apparition veil myself. You'll find no escape here."

Q, her wand firm in her hand, raised an eyebrow.

Q: "Run? Oh, Tom, you've mistaken me for someone who fears you. I'm just getting started."

Jason, battered and bruised, clung to her side, his breath shallow. The mocking laughter of the Death Eaters echoed, yet it was clear from Voldemort's tightened grip on his wand that he wasn't underestimating her.

With a flick of her wand, Q tapped the mailbox beside her. A low hum began to fill the air, and suddenly, the earth quaked. The house behind them shimmered, folding in on itself like an origami puzzle, shrinking until it compressed into a compact suitcase that landed neatly by Q's feet.

Voldemort: "Futile . You can't hope to challenge me."

Before Q could respond, a deluge of spells rained down from the Death Eaters, ricocheting off the shimmering shield that had been conjured using ward line. The cracks in her barrier began to spread like spiderwebs.

Q: [calmly, though her voice carried weight] "Do you see this mailbox, Tom? It's no ordinary contraption. It's a portkey—my creation. And unlike your ego, it requires time to recharge. The ward I dispelled earlier allowed me to fuel it. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm a bit busy ensuring my grandson lives."

Q: [sharply] "Jason, put your hand on the mailbox. And grab the suitcase."

Jason hesitated, his trembling hand reaching for the shimmering mailbox.

Jason: "We can go. Together. Let's go Gran!"

But Q shook her head, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips.

Q: "It only takes one person at a time, Jason. I've lived my life, my boy. Raising you has been my greatest adventure. Well, that and my wild youth ,that's a story."

Jason, recognizing the determination in her voice, protested weakly.

Jason: "Gran, no! You're coming with me!"

Jason: [desperately] "Don't do this. Don't you dare leave me!"

Her shield cracked further, light spilling through. Q turned to him, her eyes full of pride.

Q: "I'm so proud of you, Jason. Now go."

The mailbox glinted, a faint star glowing at its center. Jason felt the pull before he could remove his hand.

Jason: [screaming] "Gran! No!"

A blinding flash of light enveloped him as the portkey activated. The last thing he saw was Q standing tall, her wand raised, as she cast a spell in ward lines intending it to explode.

The teleportation hurled Jason onto the cold, hard floor of an empty subway platform. His body sprawled limply across the tiles, the sterile hum of fluorescent lights the only sound in the eerie silence.

For a moment, Jason lay there, motionless. The weight of what had happened pressed down on him like a suffocating fog. But then, something inside him shifted—a burning fury, a searing resolve. His Sharingan, now fully evolved into three tomoe, spun fiercely in his eyes.

Jason: [muttering through clenched teeth] "I'll make them pay. All of them."

He pushed himself upright, his body trembling but unyielding. Limping to the nearest flickering tube light, Jason pressed his hand against it, absorbing the raw energy. The energy coursed through him, healing his wounds in jagged bursts. His breathing steadied, but his expression remained stormy, rage simmering just beneath the surface.

The subway platform seemed to groan under his presence .