Ugh, screw girl problems ;-;
Anyway, time for another crash course.
Dragons and dragons:
Note, Dragons and dragons are two different things; regular dragons are like the Hungarian Horntail and their ilk, gigantic lizards that breathe fire and are quite powerful. But true Dragons are elemental forces of the cosmos who once had authority over parts of the universe. They can take the form of whatever they choose, and are basically immortal. That's more or less what is known about Dragons and dragons in Dresden Files.
I'll be adding my own twist to their powers, so as to fit the elemental affinity concept I've got going here.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other fandom I manage to squeeze in this story.
ooooooooooooooo
Lightning Dragon's Roar
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Zero Rewind
© 2015
ooooooooooooooo
Chapter 52: Escape from Gringotts
"Speak for yourself, weakling." Daphne said. She grinned at the Goblin's angry face. "Your wish for death may soon be granted by your own brethren, it seems."
"She's right, you know." I said, playing good cop. "Unless you know a way out of here?"
The sound of fighting continued as Griphook considered our words.
"The wards prevent anyone from opening ways into the Nevernever." Griphook muttered to himself. "Apparating out is also impossible…"
"Neither of us knows how to Apparate, anyway." I added, and the Goblin nodded quickly.
"We cannot leave here by magical means." Griphook said.
"I'm fine with doing it the old fashioned way." I said. "As long as we don't have to fight an entire army."
The Goblin stayed quiet, looking towards the fighting with a grim, but hopeful face.
"…There might be an alternate route." Griphook said slowly. "But it shall require the use of a broom."
I perked up, before stuffing my hand in my mokeskin pouch, sifting through its contents for my Firebolt.
Nope, nothing.
"Fuck." I swore, taking my hand out in irritation. "I knew I forgot to pack something."
"There are brooms a floor above us." Griphook said slowly. "Except…"
The sound of the dragon's roar caught our attention.
"Let me guess." Daphne said. "We have to get past the dragon."
Griphook said nothing.
"The angry, angry dragon." I continued, rubbing at my forehead. "Of course, it's never as simple as 'get in, destroy target, and get out'. All right, fine, let's get this done."
"Y—You're going to fight a dragon?" Griphook said incredulously.
"Yeah." I said with a confidence I didn't quite feel. "My title of Lightning Dragonslayer isn't for show, you know."
At least, I hoped it wasn't.
"We could try to sneak past it, first." Daphne suggested. I considered her words, and nodded.
"You're right." I said. "But I have a feeling that this dragon will attack me as soon as he sees me."
The beast in question had eyed me as soon as we were in direct line of sight of him. He eyed me; not Griphook, not his guards, and not Daphne.
I had huge doubts that it would let me go without a fight, but we tried to, anyway. As we crept along the pathway, we passed by the dead bodies of the Goblin guard that was dispatched to accompany us to the Lestrange vault.
Some had been gored by swords, others skewered with spears and left to die a slow and agonizing death. The scent of blood and feces was in the air. Sometimes I hated this enhanced sense of smell.
The waiting guards had already killed half of them, and were now finishing off the remainder by cornering them next to the dragon, a Ukrainian Ironbelly in chains. The great monster snarled and tore the Goblin guard apart as if they were made of paper.
We crept past the other Goblins who were staring at the savagery with glee. They cheered as yet another one of their enemies was killed.
They were so distracted by the show that didn't see us moving behind them.
We almost reached the corner, before the dragon snarled. I turned my head sharply and jumped back to avoid the fire it blasted at my form, separating me from Daphne with a wall of intense flame.
The Goblins who had finished off their enemy faction mistakenly took the dragon's attack as an act of defiance towards its longtime masters, rushing it with their spears and hammers, intent on teaching the beast pain.
Normally, the great dragon would have cowered pitifully. It would have taken the abuse with whimpers and fearful hissing. But seeing me seemed to have jumpstarted something inside of it; something it had forgotten long ago.
I could taste it in the air. The anticipation, the hunger, the disdain towards anything inferior to it.
This was no longer a slave. This was an apex predator that had just been unleashed from its cage.
And it was angry.
The Ukrainian Ironbelly broke its restraints with a loud roar that boomed and echoed in the depths of the Gringotts chasms and caves, making the Goblins stop and regard the beast with much more fear than they had previously.
As if smelling their primal need to flee, the dragon tore through the Goblins with impunity, their swords, spears and hammers doing nothing but irritating it. It swept its long, vicious looking talons into the fray, impaling several of the Goblins, while throwing some over the edge of the platform we stood on.
I made to leave once more, but the wall of flame came again, stopping my path— yet again. The flames were powerful, easily matching those of Tristan and Lilith in the heat I could feel by simply standing near them. So powerful that the stone glowed red hot, like coals.
"Damn it!" I snarled, before looking to Daphne. "You two should go ahead. I'll figure something out."
"Don't be stupid! Come on." Daphne said.
"It doesn't matter, Daphne." I said as yet another one of the Goblins was killed with a loud scream of pain. "Even if I shield against the fire and come with you, it will just follow me. I can outfly a dragon, but I don't know about you two. So…"
"Go!" I said, pushing Daphne forward. "Clear the way for me! I'll be right behind you. Have a broom ready for me, will you?"
I spoke with conviction, but the sheer sight of the ferocious dragon swallowing one of the Goblins whole made them feel hollow after they had been spoken.
"You had better stay true to your word." Daphne shouted as she went out of view. "Or I'll kill you myself."
"Good luck, boy."
And then there was silence.
I stared at the still silent dragon which was looking back at me with its blood red eyes.
§There could have been worse ways to go.§ Balthazar hissed out. §The hero died fighting the dragon to save the love of his life.§
§Yeah, sounds like a good story.§ I agreed, Lightning answering my call, filling the caverns of Gringotts with bluish white light. §Except I don't plan on dying anytime soon.§
§Plans of no consequence.§ The dragon interrupted, and I jumped in surprise. It could understand me?
§You can talk?§ I asked, and the dragon growled in response.
§What do you want?§ I tried again, unsheathing Erebus.
The dragon snarled, blasting intense crimson flames in my direction.
"Dark Stream." I said calmly, and let the Darkness loose to counter the fire.
Just in time, the flames splashed against the stream of black, cold energy, sending out waves of cold and heat in all directions.
I increased the stream's strength, and overpowered the dragon slightly. It responded in kind, pushing my energy back to the stalemate we had begun with. I grunted, feeling the pressure of keeping something like this up.
At most, I could hold out for a solid two minutes, before being burnt to a crisp by the flames. Then again, I didn't really know how long a dragon could keep belching flame like this.
I didn't want to find out, either. If I remembered right, a Ukrainian Ironbelly's fire could reach up to 1960 degrees Celsius in temperature. Something I did not want to directly suffer.
With an effort of will, I threw a Lightning Bolt out of my right hand, sending it in a half circle arc into the dragon's snout, making it cry in shock and stop its onslaught.
§Usurper swine! I will feast on your intestines for daring to use my forefather's powers on me.§ The dragon raged, lunging at me with the intent to kill.
Now, I hadn't stopped my Dark Stream, but the dragon was tearing through it like it was water. All the Dark Stream did was slow the great beast down, enough for me to leap straight up, missing the monstrous swipe by a hair's breadth.
I cut the flow of my Dark Stream, landed on the great beast's back, and drove a full powered Edge through its body— well, at least I tried to. The monster's hide was so thick I went in a few inches before being thrown off to the side by one of its reflexive muscle spasms in response to pain.
They didn't call it dragon hide, for nothing.
I managed to land on my feet, and automatically dropped down to the ground, avoiding the dragon's tail as it swung over my form, displacing the air with enough speed it sounded like Clark's wooshing.
I waited a few seconds longer and— there it was, the return swing of the tail, also passing above me with ease. I had to time this really carefully.
After the third swing, I got up, and made to jump, except the dragon had predicted I'd attempt something like this and swiped at me with its hind leg. I felt burning lines of pain erupt on my right arm as the dragon's claws dug in my flesh, the impact sending me flying back into a wall with a loud crack.
I coughed and got back on my feet as fast as I could manage, watching the dragon attempt to reach to the wound on its back in vain. I checked for any broken bones; aside from a shortness of breath, and a pulsing pain my left wrist, indicating a crack in the bone, nothing of note seemed to be broken.
"Your thoughts?" I wheezed as I got my breath back. My side hurt like hell, even with the adrenaline blocking out the pain slightly.
"Your melee piercing attack inflicted some damage, but nothing serious." Erebus said. "My own Darkness barely phased it. I would advise against using me in this battle, except to counter the beast's fire."
"…It's only fitting I guess." I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Was this fear, or was this excitement? "Dragons should be felled by Dragonslayer Magic, after all."
"I will exert my power to cover your form whenever the beast uses its flame." Erebus said. "So do not bother defending against it. Focus only on the physical aspect of its offense."
I sheathed the dark blade, nodding absentmindedly.
"Much appreciated." I muttered, grabbing a vial of Pepper Up and downing it in one shot, feeling my energy levels increase again. I had some Strengthening Solution, but I didn't dare use it, since this platform led to a very long drop.
I didn't want to use too much strength dodging and end up falling off the edge.
But there was no holding back anymore. I wasn't fighting some flimsy guards. I wasn't going to worry about damaging my surroundings. I knew that, if I held anything back, anything at all…
I would be dead.
So I threw everything I had into it.
I waved my hand my so hard it felt like it was going to rip itself out of its socket, and Lightning answered my call, blade after blade flying at the monstrous creature, each embedding itself in the dragon's hide.
But it treated them like particularly irritating toothpicks, lunging at my form and powering on through my onslaught with nothing but a loud grunt showing that it felt any pain from my attack at all.
The dragon made to swipe at my left side once more, rightly assuming that it's my weak side currently.
It was a sound move, following what it had done to me prior. In fact it was the most basic of techniques that men learned after watching the animal kingdom for a while. It was really simple; wound your target, and keep wounding it in the same spot until it is weak enough for you to feast.
Every predator knows this, and every predator knows it instinctively.
Except I wasn't prey, and I wouldn't respond like prey.
Instead I leapt off to the side, missing its swipe entirely, tearing through its shoulder with a furiously spinning drill of Lightning, and, as I landed, immediately took a deep breath, charging my lungs with enough energy to make me double over in agonizing pain, but I kept gathering energy regardless of any pain, or weakness.
"Lightning Dragon's Roar!" I unleashed everything into the dragon's side.
A quick physics lesson for you all; if a pool ball is going in a certain direction— let's say horizontal to keep it simple— at a constant speed, and the ball is impacted by something else from the side, it changes direction. Sometimes, the direction changes wildly, and sometimes it's very mild.
It all depends on how hard you hit the ball, and at what angle you do it. You could slow it down, or you could speed it up.
So, take it a step further, add a third dimension to your calculations, and you've got your basic three-dimensional physics, folks. Give the ball muscles, tendons, a head, wings, legs, feet and a tail, and you've got bones, a neck, and who knows what else broken.
It was a recipe for disaster for whoever gets impacted, really.
So what happens when you slam the hind leg of a lunging Ukrainian Ironbelly with an attack possessing enough force to crash through a thick concrete wall at an angle of twenty to thirty degrees from the point of impact?
I'm glad you asked.
The dragon was wildly flung aside with a loud yelp of all things, and it twisted, turned and tumbled with a few sickening cracks, before it fell off of the edge, roaring and snarling all the while, as it fell down the chasm.
"…" I stared, forcing myself not to pant, instead lifting my arms above my body, gathering up as much power as I could call forth, and the bluish white Lightning coalesced into a wicked looking halberd.
I grabbed hold of the weapon, injecting as much of my power as I could into it, so much power that it began to lose its cohesion despite my best efforts.
The dragon resurfaced, as I expected, snarling its flame at me.
One shot. I had one shot.
"Lightning Dragon's Heavenward Halberd!" I heaved, before launching the electric halberd with a loud thunderclap ringing the depths of Gringotts Bank, the loud bang echoing throughout the chasms and caverns of this place.
Erebus' protective shield worked as the sentient Devil Arm had promised, reducing the intensity of the dragon's flames enough that they merely felt like I had placed my hand on an almost hot piece of metal. It was still, quite painful— even hot enough to burn my oh-so-delicate human skin— but at least I didn't outright melt from the onslaught.
That was a good thing, I thought as I watched my Heavenward Halberd go right through its fire before reaching its target.
The halberd cut the beast's breath attack short as it impaled the monster through its throat. Instantly, the dragon lost control of its limbs, and fell right back down where he came from.
I stayed tense even after its cries turned silent, even after the loud thump was heard.
I began to count.
Ten seconds passed. Nothing.
Thirty seconds. A minute. A minute and a half.
Two minutes. Nothing.
Only then did I start breathing normally again.
"And stay down, you old shit." I snarled over the edge.
"I take offense to that." Erebus said.
"Oh, right. Stay down, you shit." I amended
"Thank you."
"You killed it, boy." A voice wheezed off to the side. "Inconceivable."
I turned sharply to the source, surprised despite myself, despite the battle which just occurred. However, it was just an old looking Goblin, propped up against the wall. There was a large shard of stone embedded in his foot, and it looked as if he had sustained other wounds which were bleeding quite heavily.
This was one of the Goblins that were dispatched to protect us, I realized.
He was surrounded by the fallen bodies of his fellow warriors. I stopped channeling power and went to the suffering Goblin's side as quickly as I could. I knelt down by the Goblin's side, examining his injuries further to see if there was anything I could do.
I disliked the Goblins and their greedy, self-serving nature; but in that respect, there were plenty of people I didn't like that had the same traits.
So I began to sift through the contents of my mokeskin pouch, pulling out a few potions.
"There's nothing to be done." The Goblin said, clenching his teeth in pain. "I'm already on the edge between life and death, too late for any help to bring me back, I'm afraid."
I could smell it. Pushing past the scent of acrid flames, past the smell of my own singed flesh, was a scent I was getting to be familiar with; a scent I wish I didn't get familiar with.
It was the scent of rot, of death.
I swallowed, before talking to the Goblin.
"I can kill the pain, If you like." I said slowly. The Goblin gave me a long look, before coughing in pain.
"That would be appreciated." The old Goblin replied, and I grabbed two of the potions I'd taken out of the pouch; a Calming Draught, and a Nerve Killer, the latter of which I had been advised to buy at the magical mall in Metropolis.
With some difficulty, the Goblin in question managed to force the awful tasting concoctions down his throat. Despite an initial displeasure over the taste, the potions did their work perfectly, as the ancient Goblin's face seemed to shed decades of age in a few seconds.
"I haven't felt this relaxed since I was in my prime." The Goblin said calmly. "These things don't last, do they, boy?"
I was silent for a moment. "Twenty minutes, thirty maybe. You are quite a bit smaller than I am, after all."
The Goblin almost cackled at my good natured insult. "What's your name, boy?"
"Harry Potter." I said without preamble.
"Ah, the one who forced the King of Demons back into Hell." The old Goblin mused, his relaxed demeanor getting a little worrisome, considering the man was still bleeding everywhere. "It figures that Dragon slaying is among your powers and that sword…"
The Goblin's eyes flitted down, examining the weapon.
"It looks familiar, that sheath… That's the brat Rogar's work?" He said, looking back at me.
I gave the Goblin a double take. "Yes. How did you know? Who are you?"
"Just an old wretch who lost his son, a long time ago." The Goblin wheezed, turning his body slightly. "Ah, that's a little better."
I didn't say anything for a while, merely staying with the Goblin until he drew his last breath.
"This relaxing heaven won't remain forever, boy—"
"Harry. My name's Harry." I repeated.
"Right, Harry." The Goblin said it slowly. "After your potions lose their effect, I'm going to be in a lot of pain again."
"I'll just give you some more." I said stubbornly.
"Aye, you can." The Goblin said. "But that is a waste, and I do not abide by wasting resources on dead meat; even if the dead meat in question is myself."
"…What are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying." The Goblin said slowly. "That I want you to finish it. I don't want to feel pain as my life fades."
"I— what— do you realize what you're asking me to do?"
"Aye." The Goblin continued. "Don't make me beg, boy. Let me die with some of my dignity left. I don't even care if you destroy my body; as long as I die at the hand of a fellow warrior, and not some imprisoned beast."
Why? What difference did it make if he was killed by me or succumbed to the wounds he received from the dragon? Was it to maintain some imagined idea of honor? Was it to ensure his family's standing was not diminished in any way?
"It is better to have died fighting in the war against his brethren, than found as the easily defeated, helpless victim of an animal his people had subjugated and treated with the lowest respect possible." Erebus whispered to me, quietly.
A dying request was a dying request, though. I shut my eyes tight for a few moments, steeling myself. I sighed.
"Fine. I'll grant you this request." I packed up my potions and got back up, taking a few steps back from the old Goblin, unsheathing Erebus. "Tell me your name, Goblin."
The old fart considered me, and said. "Saltfoot."
"Saltfoot." I repeated, nodding resolutely. "Are you ready?"
The Goblin— Saltfoot— grinned fiercely, showing the sharp teeth of his people. "Thank you, Harry Potter."
"Make it quick and as painless as you can manage, Erebus… Dark Stream." I pointed the blade at Saltfoot, and out the Darkness came, washing over the beaten and bloodied Goblin with gentleness I was not quite expecting.
It was as if he was being quickly washed away by the gentle stream of a river.
An eerie silence followed.
Nothing of Saltfoot remained.
I fell unceremoniously on my ass, telling myself that I had granted the old fart a mercy as I began to pull out some burn paste and applied them on my face and several spots on my left arm.
Afterwards, I rolled up my coat's sleeve, grabbed some water, and poured it on the wounds on my left arm, cleaning them as best as I could.
After that, the Murtlap Essence was applied, and I felt a slow, soothing sensation pass in my arm. Pulling out my wand, I spelled some bandages to wrap around the wound, preventing the outside air from contaminating any further.
With all of that done, I got back up, stared one last time at the spot that Saltfoot had died in, and left to find Daphne and Griphook.
I walked past the spot the two of us had separated, and pulled out my wand as I began to navigate around the maze.
"Point me Daphne Greengrass." My arm shot straight to the right. There was nothing but a wall, there; that meant the right turn was a little ways forward— ah, there it was. I moved silently through the caves, felling a Goblin that tried to ambush me as I turned a corner.
The small humanoid thought it could jump at me from a pile of rocks and slit my throat in one blow. His knife had shattered against my right, armored arm, and I finished him off by grabbing the creature's throat and forcing my Lightning into his body, frying his internal organs from the inside.
A few quick, defiant spasms, and then it was over.
"Over here, Harry!" I heard Daphne's voice call out from a bit ahead. I quickly cast the Point Me spell again, and the wand shot towards the source of Daphne's voice. Good, this wasn't an impostor with some kind of magic ventriloquist ability.
I wondered if that kind of ability actually existed.
"Concentrate." Erebus rattled in his sheath as I approached the two. Griphook looked harried and tired, while Daphne still looked all right. A few scrapes, here and there, but she was fully intact.
Next to the duo were three broomstick.
"Aren't Goblins forbidden by law from using the artifacts of wizards?" I asked off-handedly, grabbing one of the brooms— and old looking thing that looked like it could fall apart at any given moments.
"Only wands." Griphook looked a little angry at the subject.
"Calm down." I soothed the greedy creature. "I was just making conversation, that's all."
"Spare me your idiocy, and let's go." Griphook snarled, leading the way.
We followed the grumpy Goblin back the way we came, until we reached the chasms that housed the carts leading to the vaults.
"Now what?" I asked.
"Now, I will lead you to the main floor." Griphook said. "After that, you two will be on your own."
We mounted our brooms.
"We can just walk out?" I asked hopefully.
"Impossible, but with these brooms you might be able to escape through the glass ceiling." Griphook said. "That's if the ceiling hasn't been locked down. I do not know if there is such a protection in place, considering that wizard brooms are almost never used in Gringotts."
Griphook blasted off, Daphne and I following the Goblin closely.
We flew straight up, the wind whipping in my hair, soothing any lingering pain from the burns and cuts I had received from the dragon.
It barely took any time at all, but we managed to reach the ground floor of the Bank.
"I leave you to your devices." Griphook said, touching down and pointing to the familiar looking marble hall of Gringotts.
The main doors had been obstructed by immense looking steel gates, and so were all of the windows leading outside.
All, except the skylight above.
And, at the center of the room, was the bloodiest scene I had ever laid eyes on. Corpses of Goblins were strewn everywhere, felled by axes, hammers, swords and spears.
Some wizards were cowering in the corner, unlucky sods that had the misfortune of getting stuck in Gringotts during a civil war between Goblins.
"This is awful." I breathed. "How are we going to get past them without getting shredded by any weapons they decide to throw? My power's running low from fighting that Dragon. Daphne, you think you can bowl them over?"
"All of them?" She asked. "Maybe. I've never exerted my magic at such a long range."
"Well, I'm not asking for you to kill them with blades or anything." I said. "Just enough power to knock them over."
"We'll see." She said. "Grab my broomstick for me?"
I grinned. "Sure, Daphne. I'll grab your broomstick."
"Shut up." She said without heat, also amused by the innuendo. "Just do it."
"As you wish." I grabbed her broom as she pointed at the group of Goblins slaughtering each other, closing her eyes in concentration.
I could feel something small but powerful forming between her palms, and with an effort of will, she shot the tiny ball— at least, I guessed it was a ball— of wind forward, where it landed at the center of the melee; the Goblins not even noticing it.
"What're you—"
"Explode." She said, and I felt the thrum of power in her voice. Almost instantly, I heard the cries of shock and pain of the Goblins as they were flung away like ragdolls in a storm, the wind-ball's violent explosion causing a pause in the battle, so that everyone could get situated again before killing off each other.
It was all the time we needed; Daphne and I sped over the gaggle of confused and disoriented Goblins, flying up to the glass.
A blast of wind from Daphne shattered the glass, and another blast of wind protected us from the shards that were raining down on us.
Daphne and I flew outside, right into the free air, the sunshine beating down my back, invigorating me. We wasted no time, and flew off, away from Diagon Alley.
"We actually did it!" Daphne shouted, sounding giddy.
"Yeah." I said as we flew off into the distance. "We did."