Harry Potter and the Fourth Tower

by The-Nameless90

With Dumbledore gone, Grindelwald's remaining followers are finally able to carry out their plans for "the greater good" and install a Nazi-Germany-like regime. But luckily, the Deathstick found a worthy successor who will oppose them. Based solely on the original 7 books, Harry's story is continued. Realistic, increasingly powerful Harry, no AU. BOOK 1/3.

25. The Only Chance

- Chapter Twenty Five -

The Only Chance

Harry was in the kind of stupor that shuts out the noise and everything else around him, and left only the one word he had just heard echoing in his head.

Ursula Ulatov – The Nameless. He couldn't have imagined anything more bizarre, the world suddenly took a hundred and eighty degree turn, everything was turned upside down: Moloh's innocence was revealed, the shadow of suspicion over Eakle's head was gone, and instead the tiny deputy headmistress became the target of Harry's wrath.

'We've been well taken for a ride...' a voice beside him muttered, as he turned his head.

Ron watched with a bitter expression as the masked men bowed to Ulatov, and Harry was momentarily stunned to see neither Ron nor Hermione's faces reflect his own deep surprise. Then, slowly, it occurred to him that the fact that one of the masked Death Eater impersonators had called Ulatov Nameless obviously meant nothing to his two friends. Of course, Ron and Hermione hadn't heard the story of Riddle and Marius...

Ulatov now stepped up to the kneeling director, who snarled at him with his bleeding mouth. He said something to her in German that Harry couldn't understand, but it couldn't have been very nice, for the witch's face was flushed with anger. The next moment, she jabbed her wand into Moloh's forehead, who was writhing on the floor in pain.

'Stop it!' said Professor McGonagall's voice from the crowd, and she stepped boldly out of the crowd, her wand held out in front of her.

'Professor, no!' shouted Viktor Krum, who made a face as if a world had collapsed inside him.

Ulatov turned her face towards McGonagall, which was no longer the kind, good-natured old lady she had shown to the world, and yet it remained the same: her small black eyes squinted dangerously, her bloodless lips were drawn into a sneer, and her hair, always in a strict bun, was untangled and fluttering about her in the slight breeze, giving the impression of a lunatic madman.

'Don't bother, Minerva...' Moloh said suddenly, pressing his huge hand on his huge forehead. 'My dear deputy director is a member of the inner circle...'

The stadium arena was filled with astonished voices, and the dementor hovering overhead was enjoying the intense wave of emotions that must have been like a feast. A few began to scream in fear, a few took courage, and conjured patronuses who circled around them, radiating light. The dementor stopped grunting.

'Inner circle?' said Ulatov contemptuously. 'How pathetic you are, Maude! You know nothing about us, you know nothing about the Fourth Tower.'

Harry and his two friends looked at each other.

'You are not a member of the Fourth Tower!' another witch snapped at Ulatov, and Harry glanced over to see Mrs Parker from the Department of Mysteries shouting from the crowd.' You have nothing to do with our organisation!'

Harry went from one shock to another, with both Hermione and Ron gasping for breath.

'Is it true?' said Newt Scamander, now joining Mrs Parker. He hesitantly took a step towards Ulatov. 'Did Grindelwald keep that name after all?'

Ulatov gave him a superior look.

'We are the true Circle of the Fourth Tower,' she said in an uncompromising tone. 'Albus Dumbledore betrayed the Master of Death and the plan they had devised together. You are a continuation of his betrayal, proof of Dumbledore's cowardice. Dumbledore's Circle is a pathetic attempt.'

'What treason are you talking about?' snapped Professor McGonagall.

Ulatov turned towards her, and so did Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry could see the hooded boy behind McGonagall up on the top of the stands; the wizard was leaning comfortably against the railing, listening to the proceedings, and meanwhile – Harry's heart skipped a beat – the tip of his nose and the lower curve of his chin peeked out from the shadow of the hood. 'That nose is so eerily familiar...' thought Harry.

'About the blatant betrayal Dumbledore committed on Grindelwald!' Ulatov passionately answered her question. 'Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald laid the foundations of a new wizarding world during their two-month friendship. They named it the Fourth Tower after the Dumbledore family crest, the house where they met. And Grindelwald kept the name even after Dumbledore's betrayal, hoping that when the movement grew stronger and the Circle expanded to include all witches and wizards who shared his great views, Dumbledore would return to it...'

Ulatov spoke briskly and her audience listened in silence. Suddenly, no one was interested in the hundred armed masked men at the entrance to the stadium, or the hungry dementor waiting.

'And Dumbledore did come back, but not for what Grindelwald believed. Dumbledore almost destroyed the movement. But after the siege of Nurmengard, some of us stayed on and continued to expand the Circle. We introduced some talented youngsters to the mysteries of black magic... Some were obedient, some went their own way... Needless to say, who was the most talented of them?'

The question hung unanswered in the air, but no answer was needed. Harry remembered very well what Riddle had told him about his travels with Marius and Alethea.

Ulatov cleared her throat.

'Enough about the past. Maude was a great alibi for me, thanks to some of his character flaws and his immense lack of manners. I am a little sorry that it is over, but tomorrow he and Ursula Ulatov will be a thing of the past. I will have to say goodbye to the comfort of Durmstrang and hand over the school to the Fourth Tower. And what's more...' she now turned to McGonagall, 'thanks to you, Hogwarts will soon follow Durmstrang, Minerva! I owe you and Madame Maxime a debt of gratitude: if you hadn't been so insistent, the Triwizard Tournament would not have taken place here. But then again, we might be killing three birds with one stone... And everyone in the Tower will know that it was The Nameless who got Hogwarts for the movement!'

She moved closer to McGonagall until she was only inches away, staring up into the taller witch's face.

'I think you will be my new face and name. It will be nice to return to good old Hogwarts as Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.'

'Return?' someone in the back gasped. Ulatov didn't even look at him, just stared up at McGonagall – and Harry didn't like the look in her eyes.

'I used to be a teacher at Hogwarts, didn't you know?' Ulatov said quietly, but somehow everyone heard her words clearly. 'But I am foolish, how could you have known? Back then I used a different face and a different name, which nobody remembers now. But even then I went there with the same purpose as now... Only then I was welcomed more warmly,' she sighed theatrically. 'Director Phineas Nigellus was not so reserved against the Circle of the Fourth Tower. He was supportive of my ideas for a few changes... an expansion or two... a few rebuilds...'

'The construction site!' Hermione whispered in shock.

Harry was also reminded of Rita Skeeter's book about the construction site at Hogwarts, which the annoying scribbler had put on Dumbledore's account.

'Now we'll finish that tower, and we'll rule Hogwarts! Hogwarts will be the most beautiful cornerstone of black magic... It will be a special pleasure for me to do all this in your name and hiding behind your face, Minerva,' she walked around the professor as if she were in a market, examining an attractive merchandise.

'Don't touch me!' McGonagall jerked her hand away as Ulatov's fingers brushed the edge of her robe. Her face reflected a deep disgust.

Ulatov gave her a strange look, as if she felt hurt. She withdrew her hand, but she did so in such a way that it touched McGonagall's skin. Then she turned abruptly and, leaving the bewildered Professor and the wounded Moloh in the lurch, returned to the coldly elegant Mr Prince. Hermione, watching the many masked men, went up to McGonagall and began to talk to her in whispers. Harry and Ron, however, were distracted by the brief conversation going on in front of them.

'Well, I hope the entire fortune of Gellert Grindelwald will suffice, my dear, greedy friend...' said Ulatov to the man with her hands on her hips.

He didn't even acknowledge the comment, just nodded in satisfaction.

'It is very appropriate, as I said. My brother and I don't care whose money it was, so long as there's plenty of it,' said Prince Octavius, laughing. 'Call me what you will, mistress, but I learned from the Dark Lord that it is not advisable to chase unattainable desires. Immortality... invincibility... I am content with the more mundane benefits of gold.'

'You can do whatever you want with the money, but I'll keep the claymore if I find it. And I expect you to follow my instructions in everything, within the Tower and outside of it,' Ulatov insisted. 'I don't want another goddamn up-and-coming talent to occupy the seats vacated by the death of Lord Voldemort...'

Harry heard Ron stifle a startled groan and involuntarily turned towards him. His friend was listening to the conversation with his jaw dropped, but Hermione, standing next to McGonagall, was listening as seriously as if she was trying to memorise every word Ulatov and Mr Prince had said, which, Harry thought, was certainly not far from the truth.

'We will not disappoint you, mistress,' Prince bowed.

'I hope so! And now...' the witch reached into her pocket and took out a torn replica of the small mirror that the blue-skinned man had, and held it up to her face. 'It's time to summon your son, Mr Prince, so he can finish his task.'

Octavius' face showed that he was not keen on the idea. Gone from his face was the greedy, smug grin he'd been wearing since the money spilled out of the chest.

Ulatov called to Marius through the mirror, and it wasn't long before the blue-skinned wizard returned. There was a rustling sound, which made several people crane their necks as if fearing wings. Then, like a bizarre bat, Marius descended, his boots flopping softly in the middle of the arena, his black cloak billowing like a sail in the wind, and Harry's imagination for a moment recalled Snape... Hermione gave a startled squeak, and the crowd began to squirm uneasily, but not only among the trapped hostages, but even among the ranks of masked men, one could feel the tension.

'I see you've learned to fly,' Ulatov remarked, shaking her head.

'It was only a matter of time,' was the meaningless reply, and the smouldering blue eyes passed over the faces of all present, and then settled on Harry's. He looked at him narrowly, but said nothing.

But the hooded boy, who had been sitting comfortably in the stands, now seemed to be coming to life. He straightened himself, and lurched restlessly from one foot to the other, holding his arms rigidly beside him. Harry glanced up at him, and Marius must have noticed, because he slung back a look over his shoulder. There was no sign that he had seen anyone in the stands.

Ulatov stepped closer, but Octavius gave no sign that he cared about the presence of his blue-skinned offspring, instead he gave instructions to a group of house-elves who began to remove the treasures.

'I am curious about something! How did you break the spell protecting the stone chest?' asked Ulatov, who, in turn, was uninterested in the golden mountain.

'I didn't do it,' Marius replied, pointing a long finger at Hermione (Ron immediately stood next to his girlfriend and stepped in front of her defensively), 'that girl did something to break the spell.'

Ulatov raised her eyebrows, not hiding her surprise.'

'Her of all people? I expected Potter to succeed,' she said, so that everyone present could hear her quite clearly.

'No, the kid didn't open the chest...' as he said this, Marius kept looking at Harry, who was still looking like the red-bearded dwarf, and it was enough to make Professor McGonagall cry out in shock.

'Potter?! Harry Potter?' she looked at her imagined subordinate as if seeing him for the first time.

Ulatov shuffled forward in her comfortable slippers, nodding cheerfully. Her face had the same beastly features of a smile as young Tom Riddle's.

'Yes, my dear Minerva,' said the witch. 'Harry Potter has come all this way for his cloak. He's so damned attached to his possessions, almost like...' she looked him straight in the eye, '... like a Slytherin.'

Harry was shaking with anger. How could he be anything like a Slytherin?!

'He was willing to risk the lives of his friends for his invisibility cloak. Mr Weasley's...' the witch nodded towards the boy standing in Percy's image, 'and Miss Granger's...' she nudged her nose towards the owner of the blonde hair, who was trying to make herself as small as possible.

McGonagall looked around them, gasping in shock, as did Dawlish, who stepped out of the crowd, not to mention Viktor Krum, who chanted the name "Herm-own-ninny". And the three good friends were attracting a throng of shocked stares, exposed and cornered.

'Yes, indeed, my friends,' Ulatov looked back over her shoulder at the masked men lined up. 'All three of the Golden Trio have come among us! Come on, let us be honoured – we are talking about the three greatest wizards and witches!'

The masked men were laughing, but in a way Harry had never heard people laugh before: one moment they were on the edge of their seats, the next they were laughing with glee, as if they acted on a push of a button. Their behaviour was amazingly inhuman.

'Very funny...' Harry heard Ron's growl, which he thought was someone else's voice again because of Percy's. 'What was that all about?! If you're some kind of... treasure hunter or something, why didn't you ask for help?'

Ulatov stopped laughing, and with her his men went into "serious mode" in an instant.

'Young Weasley, there is so much you don't know! But I don't mind telling you...' sighed the witch theatrically.

Marius took a deep breath in impatience.

'Mistress, can we leave this for later?' he asked, his smouldering eyes gleaming wearily.

'We are not rushing anywhere, my child. Besides, the curiosity of youth must be satisfied, that's how young people learn, isn't it?' Ulatov said with smoothed-tounged chatter, but her changed, shrill voice didn't sound at all as trusting as it used to. She turned to the trio, addressing her words to them alone, as if the hostages were nothing. 'You know, the treasure has been buried under the tower for decades, as everyone knew very well among us... Not only is there a lot of gold, but there are indeed many special magical items among them. To protect them, Grindelwald lied to Dumbledore – before their infamous duel – that he had hidden terrible curses in the chest. This was to ensure that Dumbledore would not open the chest and he would not lose the fabulous fortune. He expected to be able to open the chest later, once he had got rid of his treacherous friend... As we know, he didn't. But the chest remained untouched, Dumbledore sealed it using the Wand of Destiny, and placed a spell on it that we could not open...'

Harry and everyone else listened attentively to her words, only Marius put on a bored face – he just stood there, hands folded, occasionally exchanging a glance with the dementor keeping the hostages at bay.

'But after the second task, everything changed,' Ulatov continued, pacing comfortably in front of them. 'Someone had activated the spell protecting the chest... I also discovered that there were two other people under the cloak of invisibility. It didn't take me long to realize that the spell had sensed the proximity of one of the Hallows, which was already from that starting to dissipate from the chest. So I borrowed it from Mr Potter...' she smiled smugly at Harry.

Harry's hands clenched into fists, sparks falling from his wand. Marius glanced at him, but made no threatening gesture. It seemed as if he were responsible for the frail old witch's physical safety, and so he kept an eye on the prisoners while his mistress indulged in her story-telling.

'Naturally, I intended to open the chest immediately, so that I could finally satisfy Mr Prince's unimaginable gold worship – but I was unsuccessful.' Ulatov shook her head, looking at Hermione, who was clinging to Ron. 'I couldn't understand why it wasn't working... Then I remembered an interesting bit of your story on the Day of Remembrance. Dumbledore's really sharp-witted trick to keep Lord Voldemort away from the Philosopher's Stone: only those who had no purpose with it could have it. I thought I'd found the key to the secret... I soon hatched a plan to use one of the Tournament champions to open the chest. My blue-skinned friend was tasked with...' she patted the statuesque Marius next to her on the shoulder with a grin, 'persuading the champions to get the treasure. They had no purpose with it...'

'But it didn't work,' Hermione interjected in a clear, ringing voice. 'Dennis couldn't open the chest. It was when... when...'

'When you took the cloak in your hand,' Marius finished for her, and then looked at Ulatov, who spread her arms.

'I admit, I don't understand it myself. I was certain that this was Dumbledore's trick... It seems to have been something else.' Ulatov cleared her throat and finally stopped pacing. 'But it doesn't matter now, does it? I've achieved what I wanted, thanks to you, but I'm afraid we're not done with each other yet...'

The witch stared for a long moment at the cloak hanging out of Harry's pocket. Harry pushed the garment back and looked at Ulatov. He expected her to demand the cloak, but she didn't. Instead, she came closer to him, so close that Hermione squeaked with fright, and Ron and McGonagall pointed their wands at her. Ulatov paid them no attention, just leaned in close to Harry.

'What happened when you united them?' she asked in a whisper. 'Did anything change? Did you become immortal? Or can you command the dementors? What changed when you became the master of the Hallows?'

Harry replied in a similar whisper:

'Shall I tell you what has changed?' he asked slowly. 'Nothing.'

Ulatov grimaced and looked him searchingly in the eye for a moment – Harry was sure she was trying to use Legilimency on him – then she turned around and walked back in front of her men. Ron and Hermione were staring at him, Harry could almost read the question on their faces, "What do we do?"

Harry had absolutely no idea, too many things were swirling around in his head to think clearly. He glanced again at the hooded boy at the top of the stands; the boy shook his head slowly. Harry tried to decipher what he was trying to say, but then his attention was drawn back to Ulatov.

'Let's not waste any more time!' she screeched loudly. 'It's time to do what we came here for, it's almost dawn...'

The witch stepped in front of the kneeling Moloh, and they were at exactly the same height.

'Dear Director,' continued Ulatov, 'when the International Oversight Committee arrives, they will see that you opened the chest containing Grindelwald's terrible and terrifying legacy, but unfortunately, you did not sufficiently appreciate the gravity of the situation, and the dark objects caused your death... Marius, please!'

The blue-skinned man took Ulatov's place and grabbed Moloh's throat with one hand. The director was choking and gurgled:

'Ulatoff... no! Wait...' the giant spat, choking.

'I'm sorry, Maude,' the deputy headmistress cawed.

Marius's face came closer to Moloh's; the teachers started shouting. The Viking dementor began to grumble excitedly.

'NO!' screamed Hermione. 'Don't do it! He's not who you think he is!'

But there was nothing to be done. Marius put his lips to the headmaster's; his black hair falling forward obscured what was happening from Harry's eyes, and he could only see when the blue-skinned man stepped back after he had finished his work, and the giant headmaster fell forward into the dust. Only the twitching of his body told that he was still alive, but now without his consciousness...

Even the Durmstrang teachers were screaming, some of the witches were sobbing, although Harry was sure that until that day they had not been able to stand their tyrannical headmaster, whom they believed to be a black sorcerer.

'Why did you do it?' Hermione cried with a deadly expression on her face; Ron couldn't even scratch the look of disgust off his face.

'Here they go again...' sighed Marius.

'Moloh was not a Death Eater!' Hermione persisted. 'We knew the Death Eaters, and he had nothing to do with them!'

'You have been deceived! The Death Eaters are among them, look!' Ron shouted at the top of his lungs, as if to make Marius understand what Hermione couldn't.

The blue-skinned man moved his gaze between Ulatov and the three good friends. He stared at the witch for a long time, but her eyes did not blink, she just smiled contemptuously, as she had always done.

'Nonsense,' said Ulatov, with a sneer. 'You of all people should know that the Circle of the Fourth Tower disowned Lord Voldemort when he became out of control...'

Her words were interrupted by a shout and a loud crack:

'MORSMORDE!' yelled Hermione suddenly, and a green glow burst from her wand, just like in the Borgin & Burkes shop. The green lights rose up into the air, and above the arena was a snake-tongued skull.

Almost everyone watched the phenomenon, some with astonishment, some with horror, but some reacted quite differently: from behind the masks of three masked men, there was a loud wailing and they visibly grabbed their left forearm...

Then lightning split the sky, slicing the nightmarish skull of green light in half – the Dark Mark faded, then disappeared from the night sky altogether. Ursula Ulatov lowered her wand and looked at Marius. She could not hide the unease that spread across her face.

Marius eyed her for a moment, then took long strides to one of the masked men clutching one arm – the others moved out of his way as if he were spreading a plague. He grabbed the wizard's arm and yanked the sleeve of his robe up. Harry could only see his back, he couldn't know what face he was making, only that he was turning towards Ulatov with an alarming look on his face.

'You promised their blood...' he whispered. 'You promised they'd all die. You promised me all of Riddle's servants.'

Neither Ulatov nor her men said a word, but stared at Marius, each of them gripping his wand tightly.

'You lied to me, Nameless!'

Harry knew what was coming, so he quickly nudged Ron's shoulder and waved him over. They needed to get out of here as quickly as possible before all hell broke loose.

'I didn't lie to you,' Ulatov tried to save the situation, looking at Hermione with a terrible look in her eyes.

McGonagall instinctively ordered the girl behind her back, to which Hermione tried to protest, but the professor would not give in. She nodded mutely to Ron, who grabbed her by the arm and dragged her deeper into the hostage-circle. Harry remained beside McGonagall, looking for the weakest point to break out...

'Give me the Death Eaters, witch!' thundered Marius, and the sky seemed to crackle at the sound. The masked men flinched as one.

'I'm sorry, I need them,' Ulatov replied.

'You know that I hate betrayal more than anything else!'

'I did not betray you...'

'LIAR!'

Marius did not waste any more words, he waved his wand, and then several things happened at once. Every single person in the arena, who had been standing still, began to move, and in moments the stadium was a swirling mass of people. Marius killed the two nearest Death Eaters with a single blow, and sent several other masked men to their deaths with them – Harry could only see the bodies flying out of the corner of his eye, and hear the screams. His wand then spun towards the other remaining Death Eaters:

'Avada Kedavra!'

'Accio!' The Death Eater's spell has thrown a large, round piece of the huge treasure in the path of the killing curse. There was a gong like a thousand bells being struck, the resonating sound spreading out in waves and echoing through the heads; Harry had to cover his ears, for he thought his head was about to split open. The last Death Eater must have felt the same way, for he quickly grabbed the heavy mask off his face with his free hand. Harry recognised him again: it was Draco Malfoy, and the effects of the Polyjuice Potion were beginning to wear off – his face had regained its original guise, but his hair was still black.

The green lightning vanished, and the treasure that had saved Draco's life – a large, round golden shield decorated with runes and carvings that was very familiar to Harry – landed in the boy's hand. Even Ulatov herself was surprised at what a piece of magic had fallen into the hands of one of his men.

Marius attacked again; Ulatov was joined by her masked servants and Mr Prince himself. The Viking dementor, however, seemed intent on helping Marius: he descended from the high ground, ignoring the hostages, and with him a black, icy shadow enveloped the arena. Harry could hear Ulatov shouting (she was shouting for some sort of claymore), and Harry pulled his head out of the way of a spinning sword that whizzed out of the huge pile of treasure just in time. He followed the path of the weapon with his eyes: it ended up in the hands of the witch who had at that moment thrust it through the blue-skinned man. The sword came out of his back, and drops of red blood fell into the dust of the arena...

The hostages all acted at the same time, as if they had agreed: At Newt Scamander's command, they targeted the side of the stadium and blew a huge hole in it with their curses. The scattered pieces of wood had not even touched the ground when the first people, led by Viktor Krum, slipped out into the black night. Ulatov shouted orders, and the masked men went after the fugitives. Harry, who had been at the front with McGonagall, was now at the back, and it was up to them to hold off the attackers.

'Protego!' they both shouted at once, but Harry's shield spell was so powerful that it simply melted McGonagall's into itself, knocking the nearest opponents off their feet. Harry spotted the hooded boy standing on the intact side of the stadium, who, as if watching a theatre play, applauded Harry's stunt. He was the only one who hadn't moved since the skirmish began.

'Potter, come!' cried McGonagall, and began to pull him by his robes.

They rushed out of the stadium, but outside they saw hundreds of masked men, at the base of Durmstrang's carved tower, on the steps, in the hall behind the front door, a sea of fancy robes and masks with precious stones everywhere.

Harry and McGonagall raced after the fugitives, getting as far away from the overwhelming numbers as possible, into the trees. Harry could only hear the dying shouting from behind him; lights lit up the night, flashes of red, blue, green, purple painting long, colourful shadows on the smooth stones...

Harry and the professor caught up with the others in a clearing, Hermione immediately jumped on his neck and squeezed him, McGonagall joining the dishevelled-looking Scamander.

'We can't apparate!' someone said.

'The security charms have been reinstated...'

'That's why they didn't run after us!' Mrs Parker speculated.

Many people stared at Harry, who at first didn't understand why, but then realized from his rapidly shortening trouser legs and sleeves that he was beginning to regain his original guise. His beard was gone, his vision blurred again. He put his glasses back on his nose and saw that Ron and Hermione had regained their original guises as well.

The people openly stared at them, only at McGonagall's distinct voice they became attentive again:

'We need to get to the portkey. They're not far, just a few hundred metres...' Then she turned to Harry and lowered her voice. 'The three of you put on the cloak of invisibility. Don't argue!' she added, when the three of them tried to protest.

Harry and his friends didn't have time to argue with her, because the small group had already started running down the path. Harry slung the cloak over the heads of his two friends and started after them – just before they heard the shouting. Their pursuers closed in, safe in the knowledge that the anti-disapparition jinx would prevent them from escaping.

'They'll be here soon!' Hermione was terrified.

Ron, holding her hand tightly and dragging her along, almost drowned out the noise of the pursuers with his panting.

They ran down the path, not caring that their feet were showing through the invisibility cloak. They stumbled several times, Ron falling on his stomach once, and Harry and Hermione dragged him up with a struggle. Eventually the escapees reached another clearing where they stopped.

'Everyone grab a portkey!' McGonagall shouted, but her words were drowned out by the loud cracks which were followed by blinding green flashes of light that ripped through the bushes.

Six curses hit their target immediately – the victims collapsed like puppets and never moved again. Hermione screamed, but no one could hear her, for they all began to scream in terror. Newt Scamander bravely charged back, along with McGonagall and Madame Maxime. One of the masked men's curses hit the famous wizard and he too fell to the ground, right next to Mrs Parker's body.

'They are killing everyone!' Ron shouted angrily, while Harry and Hermione kept moving, attacking the masked men from under the invisibility cloak as they emerged from the trees one after the other.

Ulatov appeared among them; the duel between the witch and Marius was over, and the bloody sword clutched in Ulatov's hand indicated that the blue-skinned man had lost the battle.

'Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!' the murderous words were repeated over and over again.

Not a single person could escape, the curses hit them and they collapsed lifeless. Hermione cried out heartbreakingly as she saw Viktor Krum being blown up in the air by one of the deadly curses, his body slammed into the trunk of a big tree. The curse was cast by Ulatov herself, who had spoken of the boy with such pride earlier.

Madame Maxime fought tenaciously with McGonagall, but she could also not avoid her end: the curse of one of Ulatov's men hit her in the face.

Dawlish tried to dive for cover, but the rock he had chosen was blasted to dust by a spell in the next instant, and he was sprawled on the ground. Harry couldn't tell if he was still alive. He and his two friends, no longer daring to slalom in front of the destructive spells, escaped into the woods – Ron had to be dragged from the clearing, as he was determined to avenge the people who had been slaughtered.

They saw the last hostage standing, McGonagall, finally make her escape and make one of the portkey fly towards herself...

'Avada Kedavra!'

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he saw the flash of green light at Ulatov's shrieking voice, which struck with a deafening thud exactly the portkey. Harry saw the exploding wine bottle, but in the next instant McGonagall vanished without a trace, along with the pieces of the magical device, accompanied by a flash of blue.

Hermione's scream brought him out of his daze. She burst out crying hysterically, Harry tried with all his might to restrain her from running in front of the wands, but he could no longer restrain Ron.

'I'LL KILL YOU, YOU WHORE!' the boy roared at the top of his lungs, and frantically crawled out from under the cloak's concealment.

'Ron, come back!' shouted Harry, but it was no use: Ron attacked Ulatov, who repelled his attempts with ease. The scattered beams of light struck stones and tree trunks, smashing them to dust. The fight was over in moments, Ron's wand flying from his hand, a curse knocking him to the ground, blood pouring from his nose.

'Come out, both of you!' came Ulatov's voice. 'Then I'll let you live!'

Hermione had stopped crying, but she was panting so hard that Harry thought she was going to be sick and faint. However, she slowly tried to calm herself, pushing Harry's helping hand aside and running her fingers through her own hair. Fearing that she was about to collapse, Harry tried desperately to think of a way out of this predicament.

'Harry... Harry!' Hermione shook his shoulder to get his attention. She had stopped her hair-pulling, and her expression was surprisingly sober.

'What is it?' he asked, surprised.

Hermione hesitated for a moment before answering, as if thinking hard about something.

'We have only one chance left', she announced.

Harry, for his part, felt that they no longer stood any chance.

'Do you trust me?' Hermione asked, and he nodded immediately.

'Of course...'

She pointed her wand at Harry's head, and he almost jumped back in surprise. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated, then said the incantation. Harry felt the power of the spell from the wand hit his forehead, then run through his head, inside, through every nook and cranny of his brain, and it felt like ice water running through his head. The strange phenomenon exited through the back of his head, causing his hair to rise to the sky, and he involuntarily tapped the spot with his hand.

'POTTER!' shouted Ulatov.

Hermione scrutinised Harry's face with an expert's inquiring eyes, which he found extremely disturbing. He made a quick inventory of his memories in his head, starting with the most basic things like what his name was, when he was born, who his parents were, and then quickly taking stock of his friends' faces and names... At first he felt like nothing was missing from his mind.

'What did you erase?' he asked, a little afraid of the answer.

'Nothing you need to remember,' Hermione hastened to reply, and then she pointed her wand at her own head. Harry watched, stunned, as she concentrated a little longer than before.

'Obliviate,' she whispered again, and now the same thing happened to her as had just happened to Harry.

'POTTER!' Ulatov shrieked again, impatiently. 'My patience is finite. Come out or I'll kill the redhead!'

'Oh my God,' Hermione muttered in horror, and Harry saw her swallow hard. Then, without any prior announcement, she jumped up and stepped out from under the cloak.

'Hermione!' Harry shouted after her and he too quickly became visible.

There were bodies lying all over the clearing, and familiar faces stared up at the sky with their glazed eyes as if staring at Harry... Newt Scamander, Viktor Krum, Madame Maxime, Mrs Parker...

Ulatov grabbed Ron, half-kneeling on the ground, with surprising strength – Ron's nose was still bleeding and his legs seemed to have run out of strength, but apart from that he was unhurt; he looked up at his opponent with eyes flashing with rage.

Behind them and to their side was a wall of black robes, blocking all escape routes. Harry had no idea what Hermione was planning.

'Well, Potter...' Ulatov began.

'Obliviate!' cried Hermione without waiting a second, waving her wand.

Ulatov immediately released Ron and cast a shield spell around herself, but the spell didn't hit her – Hermione aimed it at the boy, who was now lying limp on the ground.

'WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!' the witch shrieked in a deafeningly shrill voice.

Her words drowned out the general clamour that had risen in the wake of Hermione's action – everyone was talking in whispers to the person next to them, and only a few were pointing their wands at the three remaining opponents.

'You won't hurt him!' Hermione shouted into the commotion, and a sudden silence fell over the clearing. 'You can't touch him with a finger, or you'll never get the second Hallow!'

Ulatov turned pale. As if on cue, the masked men began to murmur again, but now in an annoying whisper, underlining the changes in their leader's face.

'What are you talking about, girl?' Ulatov asked, taking a step towards them.

'The second Hallow, the Resurrection Stone!' Hermione said, still shouting, perhaps to make her trembling voice sound more confident. 'You didn't really think it wouldn't work after Dumbledore broke it, did you?'

Ulatov said nothing, her lips pressed together and she stared at Hermione, as McGonagall used to, but her eyes glowed with a greedy lust for power.

'Only the three of us together can tell you where the Resurrection Stone is!' Hermione continued, pointing to herself, Ron and Harry. 'But I've erased from the memories of all three of us some important details about where we finally hid the Stone. If you want the second Hallow, you'll need all three of us!'

Harry thought with a furrowed brow. He tried to recall where he had hidden the Stone, but all he could remember was throwing it away with all his might after summoning Riddle's spirit. He couldn't see where the little pebble had fallen, he only remembered the movement itself... How could he have been so stupid as to just throw it away? - Harry wondered. He should have taken care to hide it properly, cast spells to protect it, like Riddle had done... Or was that why he hadn't hidden it like that?

Hermione's voice pulled him back to reality from his confused thoughts.

'You can try to reverse the memory-erasing spell on all three of us, but you know well that there is a danger of us going mad...' she tapped her own forehead with her index finger, and laughed a slightly hysterical laugh in a joyless voice. 'And then you can say goodbye to the unification of the Hallows! Because that's what you want, isn't it? Finish what Grindelwald started!'

Ulatov looked at the laughing girl with a brutal expression on her face, and Harry thought for a moment that the witch's hand would slip and curse Hermione, torture her to break the memory-altering spell. The frightened look on Ron's face, as he lay panting, told also as much, and he tried to creep closer to his wand unnoticed, while Ulatov's attention was distracted by Hermione's taunts. Unfortunately for him, Harry wasn't the only one to notice his efforts: one of the masked men, his metal face adorned with sparkling rubies, stepped out from behind Ulatov's wall of people and kicked Ron, then with a well-aimed curse, broke the wand in two. Ron cursed in helpless rage and the masked man kicked him again.

Ulatov watched the scene lazily, Hermione was no longer laughing either, they all waited breathlessly. The witch's eyes were fixed on Ron's broken wand, then she suddenly turned back to Hermione.

'I won't need you if I get the Elder Wand,' she said in a measured response. 'You may not know this, but the rightful possessor of the Deathstick can summon the other two Hallows.'

Ulatov grinned in satisfaction, and Harry knew she was right. She could easily get the Resurrection Stone and then collect all three Hallows.

'So, all I have to do is disarm Potter, then open Albus Dumbledore's coffin and I can call the Stone, right?' It was Ulatov's turn to laugh. 'How fortunate that I got to hear first-hand your breathtakingly boring prattle on the anniversary...'

Harry looked at Hermione's face; she was quite pale and panting, her eyes red from crying. Harry could almost hear her mind racing, trying to think of some idea to save them, but Ulatov seemed to have caught Hermione off guard this time. Even Dumbledore couldn't keep the Elder Wand, even though he had planned for his powers to be gone with his death, because of a miscalculation...

Dumbledore!

Harry was suddenly struck by an idea that flashed into his head. He looked around the crowd of faces behind the wands pointed at him for the only familiar face. He found him quickly – it was easier than he had imagined: Draco Malfoy had meanwhile completely reverted to his white blond, pointy-chinned old self. His eyes reflected his nervousness, just as they had that night on the Astronomy Tower when he had won the Elder Wand from Dumbledore.

'You're still the holder of the Deathstick, aren't you?' shouted Ulatov to Harry with a confident grin. Neither Harry nor his two friends said a word, and the witch must have taken this as an approving answer, because her wand, which had been pointed at Hermione's, slowly turned towards Harry...

Harry didn't hesitate for a moment, raising his head and beckoning Malfoy.

'Draco, catch!' he said loudly, and threw his wand at him, just a moment before Ulatov's disarming spell hit its target...

The surprised Malfoy caught the gift with his free hand out of a reflex, and stared in profound astonishment at the wand and Harry alternately. Everyone gasped, Ulatov shrieked, then fell silent, then burst into an inarticulate roar after exchanging a glance with Harry.

'No one shall have the Wand of Destiny,' shouted the boy. 'Kill me, and the power of the Deathly Hallows shall go with me to the grave.'

'NO! No, you take your wand back, Potter! Take it back or I'll tear the skin off of your back! Crucio!' she croaked, and Harry could already feel the infernal pain that was like an axe was thrust into his stomach. He fell over, curled up, and ended up on the ground like Ron. Hermione cried and begged Ulatov to stop, but Harry heard none of it, because his eardrums were throbbing in his head as if they were about to explode from the inside...

The torture didn't last long, Ulatov just released the first wave of her anger. Harry and Ron looked at each other as they lay on the floor.

'What the hell... have you done?' the boy wheezed at him, clutching his broken arm.

Harry was about to reply, when another voice joined the general incomprehensible roar and Ulatov's boisterous rampage – someone was clapping and laughing. Harry lifted his head and saw the hooded boy with the sign of the Deathly Hallows around his neck, only a few feet away from the raging Ulatov.

'Now that's what I call sharp!' said the approving, cheerful voice from behind the darkness of the hood. 'Bravo! What a great idea! Now the old hag can rack her brain!'