Their plans were made, their preparations complete; in the smallest bedroom a single long, coarse black hair (plucked from the sweater Hermione had been wearing at Malfoy Manor) lay curled in a small glass phial on the mantelpiece.
"And you'll be using her actual wand," said Harry, nodding toward the walnut wand, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."
Hermione looked frightened that the wand might sting or bit her as she picked it up.
"I hate that thing," she said in a low voice. "I really hate it. It feels all wrong; it doesn't work properly for me... It's like a bit of her."
As part of the plan, Hermione would be turning into Bellatrix Lestrange using a potion. The thought of Hermione's mind in another body gave Percy the creeps.
"It'll probably help you get in character, though," said Annabeth.
" Yeah, think what that wand's done!"
"But that's my point!" said Hermione. "This is the wand that tortured Neville's mum and dad to insanity. And tortured who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Sirius!" Percy didn't know who Neville was, but if his parents had been tortured, he already felt sorry for him.
"I miss my wand," Hermione said miserably. "I wish Mr. Ollivander could have made me another one too."
Mr. Ollivander had sent Luna a new wand that morning. She was out on the back lawn at that moment, testing its capabilities in the late afternoon sun. Dean, who had lost his wand to his captors, was watching rather gloomily.
Percy felt his pocket and was glad his wepon couldn't be taken or broken as easily as a piece of wood, and that it would always return to his pocket no matter what.
The door of the bedroom opened and Griphook entered. Harry reached for the hilt of the sword and drew it close to him. The goblin noticed.
Seeking to gloss over the sticky moment, Hermione said, "We've just been checking the last-minute stuff, Griphook. We've told Bill and Fleur we're leaving tomorrow, and we've told them not to get up to see us off."
They had been firm on this point, because Hermione would need to transform in Bellatrix before they left, and the less that Bill and Fleur knew or suspected about what they were about to do, the better. They had also explained that they would not be returning. As they had lost their old tent on the night that the Snatcher's caught them, Bill had lent them another one. It was now packed inside the beaded bag, which, Percy was impressed to learn, Hermione had protected from the Snatchers by the simple expedient of stuffing it down her sock.
Though he would miss Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Dean, Percy would not miss leaving the confinement of shell cottage. A quiet and protected life simply didn't suite him, and he was tired of trying to make sure that they were not overheard, tired of being shut in the tiny, dark bedroom. Most of all, he longed to be rid of Griphook.
However, precisely how and when they were to part from the goblin without handing over Gryffindor's sword remained a question to which had no answer. It had been impossible to decide how they were going to do it, because the goblin rarely left the six of them alone together for more than five minutes at a time.
"He could give my mother lessons," growled Ron, as the goblin's long fingers kept appearing around the edges of doors. Ron had a very motherly, yet overprotective mom.
With Bill's warning in mind, the six could not help suspecting that Griphook was on the watch for possible skullduggery. Hermione and Annabeth disapproved so heartily of the planned double-cross that Harry had given up attempting to pick her brains on how best to do it.
Ron, on the rare occasions that they had been able to snatch a few Griphook-free moments, had come up with nothing better than "We'll just have to wing it, mate." Nico suggested they shadow travel away before Griphook could get the sword, but there was the possibility of Griphook either following them or alerting the authorities that the one who had went to the vault wasnot really Bellatrix.
Harry slept badly that night. Lying away in the early hours, he thought back to the way he had felt the night before they had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic and remembered a determination, almost an excitement. Now he was experiencing jolts of anxiety nagging doubts: He could not shake off the fear that it was all going to go wrong. He kept telling himself that their plan was good, that Griphook knew what they were facing, that they were well-prepared for all the difficulties they were likely to encounter, yet still he felt uneasy. He wondered if Percy, who was sleeping across from him, was dreaming about his past, and how much he knew about Harry. He doubted Nico was even asleep.
It was a relief when six o-clock arrived and they could slip out of his sleeping bag, dress in the semidarkness, then creep out into the garden, where they were to meet Hermione, Annabeth and Griphook. The dawn was chilly, but there was little wind now that it was May. Harry looked up at the stars still glimmering palely in the dark sky and listened to the sea washing backward and forward against the cliff: He was going to miss the sound, but obviusley not as much as Percy would. As soon as Percy was outside, he went towards the cliff and gazed at the sea.
Then the sound of a door opening made him look around.
Bellatrix Lestrange was striding across the lawn toward them, accompanied by Griphook. As she walked, she was tucking the small, beaded bag into the inside pocket of another set of the old robes they had taken from Grimmauld Place.
Though Harry knew perfectly well that it was really Hermione, he could not suppress a shiver of loathing. When Percy saw her, he jumped up and grabbed his sword-pen. He quickly put it back in his pocket remembering it was actually Hermione.
She was taller than he was, her long black hair rippling down her back, her heavily lidded eyes disdainful as they rested upon him; but then she spoke, and he heard Hermione through Bellatrix's low voice.
"She tasted disgusting, worse than Gurdyroots! Okay, Ron, come here so I can do you..."
"Right, but remember, I don't like the beard too long"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, this isn't about looking handsome"
"It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time."
Hermione sighed and set to work, muttering under her breath as she transformed various aspects of Ron's appearance. He was to be given a completely fake identity, and they were trusting to the malevolent aura cast by Bellatrix to protect him. Meanwhile Harry, Griphook, Annabeth and Percy were to be concealed under the Invisibility Cloak. Nico would hide in the shadows and follow them using shadow travel.
"There," said Hermione, "how does he look, Harry?"
It was possible to discern Ron under his disguise, but only, Harry thought because he knew him so well. Ron's hair was now long and wavy; he had a thick brown beard and mustache, no freckles, a short, broad nose, and heavy eyebrows. Percy seemed to wonder why they bothered with the potion if they could change their appearance like that.
"Well, he's not my type, but he'll do," said Harry. "Shall we go, then?"
All three of them glanced back at Shell Cottage, lying dark and silent under the fading stars, then turned and began to walk toward the point, just beyond the boundary wall, where the Fidelius Charm, a charm that kept the house hidden, stopped working and they would be able to Disapparate. Once past the gate, Griphook spoke.
"I should climb up now, Harry Potter, I think?"
Harry bent down and the goblin clambered onto his back, his hands linked on front of Harry's throat. He was not heavy, but Harry disliked the feeling of the goblin and the surprising strength with which he clung on. Hermione pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of the beaded bag and threw it over them both as well as Percy and Annabeth. It was a very tight fit, and if someone were to look carefully, they may see for a half a second, a pair of disembodied ankles, but there was nothing they could do about that.
"It's not perfect," said Hermione standing back to look at them, "But it'll do. We have to get going."
Harry turned on the spot, with Griphook on his shoulders and Percy and Annabeth clutching his arms. He concentrated with all his might on the Leaky Cauldron, the inn that was the entrance to Diagon Alley. The goblin clung even tighter as they moved into the compressing darkness, and seconds later Harry's feet found pavement and he opened his eyes on Charing Cross Road. Muggles bustled past wearing the hangdog expressions of early morning, quite unconscious of the little inn's existence.
The bar of the Leaky Cauldron was nearly deserted. Percy and Annabeth looked around, unimpressed by the un-extraordinary entrance.
"Forgive me, but I was expecting something a bit more…magical." Whispered Annabeth under the cloak.
Ton, the stooped and toothless landlord, was polishing glasses behind the bar counter; a couple of warlocks having a muttered conversation in the far corner glanced at Hermione and drew back into the shadows.
"Madam Lestrange," murmured Tom, and as Hermione paused he inclined his head subserviently.
"Good morning," said Hermione, and as Harry crept past, still carrying Griphook piggyback under the Cloak, he saw Tom look surprised.
"Too polite," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear as they passed out of the Inn into the tiny backyard. "You need to treat people like they're scum!"
"Okay, okay!"
Hermione drew out Bellatrix's wand and rapped a brick in the nondescript wall in front of them. Percy's eyes widened as the bricks began to whirl and spin: A hole appeared in the middle of them, which grew wider and wider, finally forming an archway onto the narrow cobbled street that was Diagon Alley.
It was quiet, barely time for the shops to open, and there were hardly and shoppers abroad. The crooked, cobbled street was much altered now from the bustling place Harry had visited before his first team at Hogwarts so many years before. More shops than ever were boarded up, though several new establishments dedicated to the Dark Arts had been created since his last visit. Harry's own face glared down at him from posters plastered over many windows, always captioned with the words
WANTED: UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE.
A number of ragged people sat huddled in doorways. He heard them moaning to the few passersby, pleading for gold, insisting that they were really wizards. One man had a bloody bandage over his eye.
"Is it always this depressing here?" whispered Percy, looking around the dismal street. He didn't see Nico, but he knew there were plenty of dark shadows here for him to hide in.
"I've never seen the place like this." Harry whispered back, "But ever since You-Know-Who returned the wizarding community really went to the dark."
As they set off along the street, the beggars glimpsed Hermione and they seemed to melt away before her, drawing hoods over their faces and fleeing as fast as they could. Hermione looked after them curiously, until the man with the bloodied bandage came staggering right across her path.
"My children," he bellowed, pointing at her. His voice was cracked, high-pitched, he sounded distraught. "Where are my children? What has he done with them? You know, you know!"
"I-I really-" stammered Hermione.
The man lunged at her, reaching for her throat. Then, with a bang and a burst of red light he was thrown backward onto the ground, unconscious. Ron stood there, his wand still outstretched and a look of shock visible behind his beard. Faces appeared at the windows on either side of the street, while a little knot of prosperous-looking passerby gathered their robes about them and broke into gentle trots, keen to vacate the scene.
"Don't stutter like that again." Ron whispered to Hermione.
Their entrance into Diagon Alley could hardly have been more conspicuous. For a moment Harry wondered whether it might not be better to leave now and try to think of a different plan. Before they could move or consult one another, however, they heard a cry from behind them.
"Why, Madam Lestrange!"
Harry whirled around and Griphook tightened his hold around Harry's neck: A tall, think wizard with a crown of bushy gray hair and a long, sharp nose was striding toward them.
"It's Travers," hissed the goblin into Harry's ear, but at that moment Harry could not think who Travers was. Hermione had drawn herself up to full height. And what do you want?" she said in the harshest voice she could muster.
Travers stopped in his tracks, clearly affronted.
"He's another Death Eater!" breathed Griphook, and Annabeth leaned sideways to repeat the information into Hermione's ear.
"I merely sought to greet you," said Travers coolly, "but if my presence is not welcome..."
"No, no, not at all, Travers," said Hermione quickly, trying to cover up her mistake. "How are you?"
"Well, I confess I am surprised to see you out and about, Bellatrix."
"Really? Why?" asked Hermione.
"Well," Travers coughed, "I heard that the Inhabitants of Malfoy Manor were confined to the house, after the... ah... escape."
Harry willed Hermione to keep her head and he could hear Annabeth whispering to her what to say next. If this was true, and Bellatrix was not supposed to be out in public.
"The Dark Lord forgives those who have served him most faithfully in the past," said Hermione in a magnificent imitation of Bellatrix's most contemptuous manner. "Perhaps your credit is not as good with him as mine is, Travers."
Though the Death Eater looked offended, he also seemed less suspicious. Harry silently congratulated her. Travers glanced down at the man Ron had just Stunned.
"How did it offend you?"
"It does not matter, it will not do so again," said Hermione coolly.
"Some of these wandless can be troublesome," said Travers. "While they do nothing but beg I have no objection, but one of them actually asked me to plead her case in the Ministry last week. 'I'm a witch, sir, I'm a witch, let me prove it to you!" he said in a squeaky impersonation. Percy had balled his fists and was looking at Travers with great dislike.
"As if I was going to give her my wand, but whose wand," said Travers curiously, "are you using at the moment, Bellatrix? I heard that your own was…"
"I have my wand here," said Hermione coldly, holding up Bellatrix's wand. "I don't know what rumors you have been listening to, Travers, but you seem sadly misinformed."
Travers seemed a little taken aback at that, and he turned instead to Ron.
"Who is your friend? I do not recognize him."
"This is Dragomir Despard," said Hermione; they had decided that a fictional foreigner was the safest cover for Ron to assume. "He speaks very little English, but he is in sympathy with the Dark Lord's aims. He has traveled here from Transylvania to see our new regime."
"Indeed? How do you do, Dragomir?"
"'Ow you?" said Ron, holding out his hand.
Travers extended two fingers and shook Ron's hand as though frightened of dirtying himself.
"So what brings you and your, ah, sympathetic friend to Diagon Alley this early?" asked Travers.
"I need to visit Gringotts," said Hermione.
"Alas, I also," said Travers. "Gold, filthy gold! We cannot live without it, yet I confess I deplore the necessity of consorting with our long-fingered friends."
Harry felt Griphook's clasped hands tighten momentarily around his neck. Annabeth pried the goblins fingers apart so they were no longer hurting Harry.
"Shall we?" said Travers, gesturing Hermione forward.
Hermione had no choice but to fall into step beside him and head along the crooked, cobbled street toward the place where the snowy-white Gringotts stood towering over the other little shops. Ron sloped along beside them, and Harry and Griphook followed. He looked at a dark ally and saw Nico disappear from in and rematerialize farther ahead.
A watchful Death Eater was the very last thing they needed, and the worst of it was, with Travers matching at what he believed to be Bellatrix's side, there was no means for Harry to communicate with Hermione or Ron. All too soon they arrived at the foot of the marble steps leading up to the great bronze doors. As Griphook had already warned them, the liveried goblins who usually flanked the entrance had been replaced by two wizards, both of whom were clutching long thin golden rods.
"Ah, Probity Probes," signed Travers theatrically, "so crude, but so effective!"
And he set off up the steps, nodding left and right to the wizards, who raised the golden rods and passed them up and down his body. The Probes, Harry knew, detected spells of concealment and hidden magical objects. Knowing that he had only seconds, Harry pointed Draco's wand at each of the guards in turn and murmured, "Confundo" twice. Unnoticed by Travers, who was looking through the bronze doors at the inner hall, each of the guards gave a little start as the spells hit them.
Hermione's long black hair rippled behind her as she climbed the steps.
"One moment, madam," said the guard, raising his Probe.
"But you've just done that!" said Hermione in Bellatrix's commanding, arrogant voice. Travers looked around, eyebrows raised. The guard was confused. He stared down at the thin golden Probe and then at his companion, who said in a slightly dazed voice, "Yeah, you've just checked them, Marius."
Hermione swept forward. Ron by her side, Harry and Griphook trotting invisibly behind them. Harry glanced back as they crossed the threshold. The wizards were both scratching their heads. He heard Annabeth breathe a sigh of relief and, when he squinted hard, saw Nico materialize in a shadowy corner. Harry shook his head in amazement at how well Nico could stay hidden.
They walked into the bank and walked up to the long counter was manned by goblins sitting on high stools serving the first customers of the day. Hermione, Ron, and Travers headed toward an old goblin who was examining a thick gold coin through an eyeglass. Hermione allowed Travers to step ahead of her on the pretext of explaining features of the hall to Ron.
The goblin tossed the coin he was holding aside, said to nobody in particular, "Leprechaun," and then greeted Travers, who passed over a tiny golden key, which was examined and given back to him.
Hermione stepped forward.
"Madam Lestrange!" said the goblin, evidently startled. "Dear me! How-how may I help you today?" It was clear he was terrified of Hermione.
"I wish to enter my vault," said Hermione.
The old goblin seemed to recoil a little. Harry glanced around. Not only was Travers hanging back, watching, but several other goblins had looked up from their work to stare at Hermione, as if they knew she wasn't Bellatrix.
"You have... identification?" asked the goblin.
"Identification? I-I have never been asked for identification before!" said Hermione.
"They know!" whispered Griphook in Harry's ear, "They must have been warned there might be an imposter!"
"Your wand will do, madam," said the goblin. He held out a slightly trembling hand, and in a dreadful blast of realization Harry knew that the goblins of Gringotts were aware that Bellatrix's wand had been stolen.
"Act now, act now," whispered Griphook in Harry's ear, "the Imperious Curse!" Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, "Imperio!"A curious sensation shot down Harry's arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix's wand, examined it closely, and then said, "Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!"
"What?" said Hermione, "No, no, that's mine¨-"
"A new wand?" said Travers, approaching the counter again; still the goblins all around were watching. "But how could you have done, which wandmaker did you use?"
Harry acted without thinking. Pointing his wand at Travers, he muttered, "Imperio!" once more.
"Oh yes, I see," said Travers, looking down at Bellatrix's wand, "yes, very handsome. and is it working well? I always think wands require a little breaking in, don't you?"
Hermione looked utterly bewildered, but to Harry's enormous relief she accepted the bizarre turn of events without comment.
"What did you do to them?" Percy whispered.
"The Imperius Curse" Harry whispered back, "I'll explain later."
The old goblin behind the counter clapped his hands and a younger goblin approached.
"I shall need the Clankers," he told the goblin, who dashed away and returned a moment later with a leather bag that seemed to be full of jangling metal, which he handed to his senior. "Good, good! Now, if you will follow me, Madam Lestrange," said the old goblin, hopping down off his stool and vanishing from sight. "I shall take you to your vault."
He appeared around the end of the counter, jogging happily toward them, the contents of the leather bag still jingling. Travers was now standing quite still with his mouth hanging wide open. Ron was drawing attention to this odd phenomenon by regarding Travers with confusion.
"Wait, Bogrod!"Another goblin came scurrying around the counter.
"We have instructions," he said with a bow to Hermione. "Forgive me, Madam, but there have been special orders regarding the vault of Lestrange."
He whispered urgently in Bogrod's ear, but the Imperiused goblin shook him off.
"I am aware of the instructions, Madam Lestrange wishes to visit her vault ... Very old family ... old clients ... This way, please ..."
And, still clanking, he hurried toward one of the many doors leading off the hall. Harry looked back at Travers , who was still rooted to the spot looking abnormally vacant, and made his decision. With a flick of his wand he made Travers come with them, walking meekly in their wake as they reached the door and passed into the rough stone passageway beyond, which was lit with flaming torches.
"We're in trouble; they suspect," said Harry as the door slammed behind them and he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. Griphook jumped down from his shoulders: neither Travers nor Bogrod showed the slightest surprise at the sudden appearance of Harry, Percy, Annabeth and Griphook in their midst. "They're Imperiused," he added, in response to Hermione and Ron's confused queries about Travers and Bogrod, who were both now standing there looking blank. "I don't think I did it strongly enough, I don't know ..." And another memory darted through his mind, of the real Bellatrix Lestrange shrieking at him when he had first tried to use an Unforgivable Curse: "You need to mean them, Potter!"
Nico materialized next to them. "What did you do back there?" he asked, looking curiously at Bogrod and Travers.
"What do we do?" asked Ron. "Shall we get out now, while we can?"
"If we can," said Hermione, looking back toward the door into the main hall, beyond which who knew what was happening.
"We've got this far, I say we go on," said Harry.
"Good!" said Griphook. "So, we need Bogrod to control the cart; I no long have the authority. But there will not be room for the wizard."
Harry pointed his wand at Travers.
"Imperio!"
The wizard turned and set off along the dark track at a smart pace.
"What are you making him do?"
"Hide," said Harry as he pointed his wand at Bogrod, who whistled to summon a little cart that came trundling along the tracks toward them out of the darkness.
"There won't be room for any of the wizards." Griphook repeated. "Three of you will not not be able to fit on the cart."
"I'll shadow travel alongside you" said Nico. "And I can take Percy and Annabeth too."
Harry was sure he could hear shouting behind them in the main hall as he clambered into the cart, Bogrod in front of Griphook, Harry, Ron, and Hermione crammed together in the back.
"Just follow the cart, and don't get lost" said Griphook to Nico.
With a jerk the cart moved off, gathering speed: They hurried past Travers, who was wriggling into a crack in the wall, then the cart began twisting and turning through the labyrinthine passages, sloping downward all the time. Harry could not hear anything over the rattling of the cart on the tracks: His hair flew behind him as they swerved between stalactites, flying ever deeper into the earth, but he kept glancing back. They might as well have left enormous footprints behind them; the more he thought about it, the more foolish it seemed to have disguised Hermione as Bellatrix, to have brought along Bellatrix's wand, when the Death Eaters knew who had stolen it. He couldn't see Nico, Annabeth, or Percy, they were going too fast. Harry just hoped they didn't get lost
There were a deeper than Harry had ever penetrated within Gringotts; they took a hairpin bend at speed and saw ahead of them, with seconds to spare, a waterfall pounding over the track. Harry heard Griphook shout, "No! The thieves downfall will wash away enchantments!"
"PERCY!" Harry shouted. "MOVE THE WATER!" He flinched as the cart approached the wet part of the tracks, but not a single drop of water hit him. He cought o glimps of the water suspended in midair, but before he could get a closer look they had zoomed too far away.
And they turned a corner and saw the thing for which Harry had been prepared, but which still brought all of them took his breath away as the cart lurched to a stop.
A gigantic dragon was tethered to the ground in front of them, barring access to four or five of the deepest vaults in the place. The beast's scales had turned pale and flaky during its long incarceration under the ground, its eyes were milkily pink; both rear legs bore heavy cuffs from which chains led to enormous pegs driven deep into the rocky floor. Its great spiked wings, folded close to its body, would have filled the chamber if it spread them, and when it turned its ugly head toward them, it roared with a noise that made the rock tremble.
Nico materialized with Percy and Annabeth, and then collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. 'That cart travels fast…could barely keep up…" he panted. Percy and Annabeth were starinf in shocked silence at the dragon.
"It is partially blind," panted Griphook, "but even more savage for that. However, we have the means to control it. It has learned what to expect when the Clankers come. Give them to me."
Ron passed the bag to Griphook, and the goblin pulled out a number of small metal instruments that when shaken made a long ringing noise like miniature hammers on anvils. Griphook handed them out: Bogrod accepted his meekly.
"You know what to do," Griphook told the six of them. "It will expect pain when it hears the noise. It will retreat, and Bogrod must place his palm upon the door of the vault."
They advanced towards the dragon, shaking the Clankers, and the noise echoed off the rocky walls, grossly magnified, so that the inside of Harry's skull seemed to vibrate with the den. The dragon let out another hoarse roar, then retreated. Harry could see it trembling, and as they drew nearer he saw the scars made by vicious slashes across its face, and guess that it had been taught to fear hot swords when it heard the sound of the Clankers. He swore he could have heard Annabeth mutter 'Poor thing.'
"Make him press his hand to the door!" Griphook urged Harry, who turned his wand again upon Bogrod. The old goblin obeyed, pressing his palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cavelike opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, the skins of strange creatures . They walked in and door reappeared, sealing them inside the vault, and they were plunged into total darkness.
"No matter, Bogrod will be able to release us!" said Griphook as Ron gave a shout of surprise. "Light your wands, can't you? And hurry, we have little time!"
"Lumos!"
Harry shone his lit wand around the vault: Its beam fell upon glittering jewels; he saw the fake sword of Gryffindor lying on a high shelf amongst a jumble of chains. Ron and Hermione had lit their wands too, and were now examining the piles of objects surrounding them.
"Don't bother." Said Nico, "It's that one." He pointed to a little golden cup sparkled in a three-way spotlight: the cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, which had passed into the possession of Hepzibah Smith, from whom it had been stolen by Tom Riddle.
"Good work Nic- Hermione, whats wrong!"
Hermione had screamed in pain, and Harry turned his wand on her in time to see a jeweled goblet tumbling from her grip. But as it fell, it split, became a shower of goblets, so that a second later, with a great clatter, the floor was covered in identical cups rolling in every direction, the original impossible to discern amongst them.
"It burned me!" moaned Hermione, sucking her blistered fingers.
"They have added Germino and Flagrante Curses!" said Griphook.
"Everything you touch will burn and multiply, but the copies are worthless ¨C and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be crushed to death by the weight of expanding gold!"
"Okay, don't touch anything!" said Harry desperately, but even as he said it, Ron accidentally nudged one of the fallen goblets with his foot, and twenty more exploded into being while Ron hopped on the spot, part of his shoe burned away by contact with the hot metal.
"Stand still, don't move!" said Hermione, clutching at Ron.
"And how the hell are we going to get to the cup up there without touching anything?" asked Ron.
"Accio Cup!" cried Hermione, who had evidently forgotten in her desperation what Griphook had told them during their planning sessions.
"No use, no use!" snarled the goblin.
"Then what do we do?" said Harry, glaring at the goblin. Concentrating, Nico held out his hand, calling the Horcrux. The cup twitched. Harry could hear people on the other side of the door, and the multiplying objects burning them were now waist deep.
"Hurry Nico! Said Annabeth. The cup had tumbled off the shelf and was now moving slowly towards Nico.
The clanking on the other side of the door was growing deafening -it was too late. The door opened revealing at least fifty wizards and goblins.
"There!" Nico held the cup triumphantly in his hand. It was burning his hand and multiplying, but Nico didn't relinquish it.
Hardly aware of the pain from the burns covering his body, and still borne along the swell of replicating treasure, Nico shoved the cup into his pocket. Harry, who had dropped the sword looked around to retrieve it, but the sword as well Griphook was gone. Running from the scene moment he could, he had sprinted for cover amongst the surrounding goblins, brandishing the sword and crying, "Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!" He vanished into the midst of the advancing crowd, all of whom were holding daggers and who accepted him without question.
Slipping on the hot metal, Harry struggled to his feet and knew that the only way out was through.
"Stupefy!" he bellowed, and Ron and Hermione joined in: Jets of red light flew into the crowd of goblins, and some toppled over, but others advanced, and Harry saw several wizard guards running around the corner. Percy and Annabeth drew their blades and began to fight their way through. They formed a circle around Nico, who still had the cup.
The tethered dragon let out a roar, and a gush of flame flew over the goblins; The wizards fled, doubled-up, back the way they had come, and inspiration, or madness, came to Harry. Pointing his wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor, he yelled, "Relashio!"
The cuffs broken open with loud bangs.
"This way!" Harry yelled, and still shooting Stunning Spells at the advancing goblins, he sprinted toward the blind dragon.
"Harry ,Harry, what are you doing?" cried Hermione.
"Get up, climb up, come on"
"We're going to ride that thing?!" asked Hermione
"Awesome" said Percy and he, Ron, Hermione, Annabeth, and Nico climbed on, and a second later the dragon became aware that it was untethered.
With a roar it reared: Harry dug in his knees, clutching as tightly as he could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the shrieking goblins aside like skittles, and it soared into the air. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the pursuing goblins hurled daggers that glanced off its flanks.
"We'll never get out, it's too big!" Hermione screamed, but the dragon opened its mouth and belched flame again, blasting the tunnel, whose floors and ceiling cracked and crumbled. By sheer force, the dragon clawed and fought its way through. Harry's eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: Deafened by the crash of rock and the dragon's roars, he could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment; then he heard Hermione yelling, "Defodio!"
She was helping the dragon enlarge the passageway, carving out the ceiling as it struggled upward toward the fresher air, away from the shrieking and clanking goblins: Harry and Ron copied her, blasting the ceiling apart with more gouging spells. Percy and Annabeth cut through the solid stone easily with their swords. They passed the underground lake, and the great crawling, snarling beast seemed to sense freedom and space ahead of it, and behind them the passage was full of the dragon's thrashing, spiked tail, of great lumps of rock, gigantic fractured stalactites, and the clanking of the goblins seemed to be growing more muffled, while ahead, the dragon's fire kept their progress clear.
And then at last, by the combined force of their spells and the dragon's brute strength, they had blasted their way out of the passage into the marble hallway. Goblins and wizards shrieked and ran for cover, and finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell beyond the entrance, it took off, and with Harry, Ron, and Hermione still clinging to its back, it forced its way through the metal doors, leaving them buckled and hanging from their hinges, as it staggered into Diagon Alley and launched itself into the sky.