CHAPTER 43 – Flight of fancy
"Well, here we are at last," said Chandra distractedly grabbing Ragnok by the neck of his suit while she let her gaze roam over the accumulated wealth "Can you feel it?"
The goblin had tried to sneak away while the two planeswalkers were distracted. Unfortunately for him, they weren't quite that inattentive.
"There's too much dark magic in there to spot that cup..." replied Liliana scrunching up her face, as if tasting something foul "These people surely like their cursed trinkets. Better not touching anything I don't say it's safe."
"Touching?" asked the redhead, staring at her companion as if she had just declared her undying love for the Cabal of Dominaria "I was planning on melting down all of this junk."
"Please don't," implored Ragnok, still weakly struggling to free himself from Chandra's grasp.
"That works I guess..." said the necromancer shrugging and ignoring the goblin "Mind if I take that crowned skull first? I bet she has oh so many wonderful tales to tell..."
"Be my guest, unless it's the horcrux that is," chuckled the pyromancer shaking her head at her companion's antics "Mind taking care of our esteemed host? Try discovering how many dragons I need to free after we're done here, will you?"
"You cannot free the dragons inside the bank!" protested the director struggling harder "Think of the damages! Think of the muggles!"
Chandra stared uncomprehendingly through her tinted lenses at Ragnok. In all the wide Multiverse, goblins loved their shinies. It was a fundamental truth of reality that nobody could change. Usually though they were less greedy than what she had witnessed on Earth. Maybe it was just true that money drew out the worst in people.
"I really hate chains though," was all she said before tossing him to the side and focusing on the task of destroying Voldemort's last horcrux.
Flames –orange at first, but growing in brightness and intensity turning yellow, then pure white, and then even brighter until they became the invisible ghostfire she had unlocked on Zendikar– poured from her open hands like a creek in spring, washing on the stone and the treasure alike with all the unrelenting force of a tidal wave. Gold and precious metals turned insubstantial in a matter of instants, releasing whatever enchantments they had been holding into colourful sparks that were similarly consumed too. Tom Riddle's soul shard fared no better, dying a screaming death in that roaring inferno of completely invisible flames.
While Chandra poured mana and her displeasure into the cleansing flames, Liliana picked up Ragnok's shell-shocked form and said: "Actually, now that we're done here, what do we need you for?"
"F-for the dragons!" he reminded, clearly scared both of what he was witnessing and what the necromancer's word suggested.
"Oh right, that. How many overgrown lizards you keep as guards?"
"Five," he promptly supplied, hoping to win the woman's sympathy and to stay alive.
Unfortunately for him, Liliana's worldview was far too utilitarian for such sentiments. She smiled, thanked him, then with a force belied by her lean form threw him in the flames.
"Good riddance."
Madam Bones and her remaining aurors arrived at Hogwarts to find the situation was only superficially better than at the Ministry: while no Death Eaters roamed the halls, Dolores Umbridge was still in power and her Inquisitorial Squad enforced her rule. It was a far cry from the school all four aurors had attended.
The squat woman met them at the door, firmly convinced that the late minister had sent them to "finally arrest those unruly brats following Potter and Dumbledore", as loudly declared by her.
"Cornelius is dead, Dolores," said Amelia with her usual bluntness "Death Eaters attacked the Ministry. We're the only survivors."
This apparently stole the wind from the other woman's sails, leaving her to soundlessly flap her mouth in a terrible imitation of a fish.
"Now, before they decide to try taking Hogwarts too, can we stop this pointless infighting and start preparing? Hogwarts is our last stand."
The pink-clad witch simply passed out.
"Wonderful..." muttered Madam Bones with a heavy sigh before starting to rattle orders "Tonks, get her and Proudfoot to the infirmary, then try reaching Dumbledore. Let him know he and his merry band of birdwatchers are more than welcome here. Dawlish, you're with me. We'll try to re-establish some order in the castle."
"I expected you to complain more about Ragnok," casually commented Liliana while she watched Chandra melt the collars off one the dragons after having calmed the pitiful creature first.
She was still pumping her mana into an oppressive aura of death in case the beast got the wrong idea. She didn't hate dragons, nor she shared the redhead's appreciation for them, but Liliana would be damned if she let an overgrown lizard get the drop on her. She didn't live longer than a millennium by being careless.
"The Abbot used to say that there are always too many goblins," replied the pyromancer patting the dragon's head as the collar came undone.
The necromancer was surprised to hear the beast purr.
"A perfectly shareable view," she said trying to keep a straight face "They tend to come in quite large numbers."
"I used to think he was a racist prick," went on Chandra smirking before her expression soured "Ragnok was... The kind of goblin that makes me want to review my position on that statement..."
"There are always individuals like that. Unless we're talking vampires, they're kind of all like that."
They watched in silence as the dragon unfurled his wings and rose to join the two they had already freed in causing untold damage to the bank above. Then, they mounted the spitfire and flew toward the next one.
Despite the gloom of the underground it was pretty easy to find the creatures: after the first had been freed they had all become restless, straining their bonds, throwing around streams of fire, roaring, and rampaging in general. Normally a dragon going berserker was nothing to be happy about, but neither planeswalker was going to complain if it made their job easier: the goblins could hardly keep sending guards their way when there were five angry, fire-breathing lizards demolishing their bank.
If she had to be a hundred percent honest, Chandra was kind of underwhelmed by the whole situation: Gringotts was her first bank heist, and it was supposedly impossible to rob, and yet they managed to get their objective, nab a nice memento for Liliana, and free the dragons, all with minimal resistance. Sure, the alarms had been sounded ten minutes after their entering, but still.
"I still wonder if I'm not corrupting you dear," continued the older woman as they landed long enough for the pyromancer to free the trashing fourth dragon, a spiked one reminiscent of the one from the tournament "We caused quite some victims tonight, both here and the ministry... Captain Muscles would have a conniption."
"Gideon's philosophy is hard enough to apply when all you can do is throw fire around," replied the redhead ruining the strained collar with one well placed fireball "Add the spell resistant armours and the situation becomes quite unbearable. Sometimes victims are simply unavoidable. It's a sad truth, but truth nonetheless."
The dragon roared in triumph, ignored the spitfire, and proceeded to fly upwards. It was shortly followed by a loud crash, like a giant glass being shattered: the dragons had managed to smash their way through the ceiling of the cave, which constituted the bank's crystal floor.
"Well, you know me," said the necromancer as they moved towards the last creature "Always instilling ethical dilemmas in young, impressionable girls' minds."
"Liliana, you're kind of a walking ethical dilemma," replied Chandra laughing "Also, you have been a terrible influence on Hermione."
"Like you're one to talk..." mirthfully quipped the older woman as the other started working on freeing the last dragon, a sickly looking thing with scales that might have been emerald green once.
Pretty soon the last creature was flying upwards, towards the far stretch of London's sky visible all the way from down there: the other dragons had apparently tore their way through Gringotts public building too. It was time to go.
"Do you think Featherbright has been freed by now?" wondered Liliana as they flew after the dragon amid the screaming and curses of the surviving goblins.
"Dumbledore is calling, my lord," said Severus kneeling in front of Voldemort "Should I go see what he wants?"
The Dark Lord, despite having been interrupted while he surveyed the wreckage that had been the office of the Minister, didn't immediately curse him but assumed a pensive expression. A clear sign the man was in a good mood.
"We scored a great victory tonight, true, but the war is not quite over yet..." he hummed in a soft tone "How are the wounded?"
"They'd do better if we had a true healer, I'm sure St. Mungo won't deny you, my lord," replied Severus thinking of the group he had just left.
There had been a surprisingly higher amount of injuries compared to the usual for a Death Eaters' raid –and quite the number dead too– but it had also probably been the singularity largest mobilization they had had in two wars, so it was hardly surprising. Death Eaters weren't exactly trained, after all.
"All things considered though, they're well enough for me to leave them in someone else's hands, my lord," concluded the potion master, before adding "Bellatrix is quite unwell, but nothing that cannot be healed with rest and blood replenishers. I suggest having words with her about when to retreat."
Voldemort hummed in thought, but was prevented from answering when someone else burst into the room.
"My lord, there's something wrong at Gringotts! The building has been torn apart by dragons, who are now flying above London!" said the young man kneeling next to Severus, who recognized him as Adrian Paucey.
Silence was the immediate answer. Neither of the two Death Eaters dared looking up, for fear of incurring into their lord's wrath. He was, after all, infamous for his violent mood swings when similarly bad news were brought in. And yet, the silence stretched like a rubber band. For one full minute, nobody moved or uttered any kind of noise.
"My lord?" asked Severus daring to look up, hoping that his unique positions as spy and double agent would protect him from the lash that was sure to follow.
Voldemort seemed lost in a trance, but at his servant's questioning tone he focused his ruby eyes on him.
"Go see what Dumbledore knows of this, Severus," he ordered in a dry tone, bereft of his usual grandstanding, then turned towards the younger Death Eater "You go gather ten men competent with the memory charm and go doing damage control. Also, tell Rodolphus to take five men and go check things at Gringotts."
"Rodolphus is dead, my lord," reminded the potion master setting his gaze back on the ground.
"Right, a shame. His brother then," said Voldemort turning to stare at the wreckage once again, his tone growing pensive "You have your orders, now go."
AN: here we go, this is the end of the Ministry battle and the last horcrux hunt. We're moving towards the end of the story, but it won't be next week.
Stay tuned folks!