Harry stood before the lift with Teddy when a cool female voice echoed, "Level one, Ministry of Magic and Support Staff."
Faraday Prewett, who had red hair with gray streaks here and there, stepped out of the lift as the golden gates slid open. He had recently been appointed Head of the Department of Treasury. Faraday looked at Harry with a questioning stare.
"Did I hear the news correctly, Harry? There's a bank robbery, they say . . . "
"Right, Mr. Prewett," said Teddy. "That's why we were heading out."
"Stop it at all costs, Harry!" said Faraday, his face ashen. "It would be the end of the Ministry if our vault was robbed again. Only now have we gathered enough gold to run it . . . "
"Don't worry, Faraday. Besides the Aurors, we will also have all the Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad with us," said Harry. "Our plan is to surround and drive them into the deepest level."
Faraday heard those words and walked toward the Minister's office with a more composed demeanor, and Harry climbed onto the lift with Teddy. Despite setting out on a dangerous mission that could cost him his life, Harry felt strangely lighthearted. Perhaps the reason was that by dying, he would be taking his disgraced secrets to his grave alone . . . he would no longer need to be ashamed of being a Muggle, then. His loved ones would grieve their loss, but now he felt detached from the relationships and experiences of his past self.
It was as if, on the night of Hagrid's death, a part of Harry had died with him, and his former life was now as distant and intangible as a former life before incarnation. In such a state of mind, Harry couldn't care less whether the vault of the Wizarding bank was robbed or not. A wry smile formed on his lips as he remembered how he had been so busy running around with his friends over such a trivial matter like hosting the Quidditch World Cup just a few months ago.
"What's so funny, Harry?" asked Teddy with a stern face. His usual cheerful demeanor had disappeared in the face of this operation.
"Nothing that matters," said Harry. Such a Muggle, as he was, being in charge of such a team of veteran wizards made him chuckle inwardly. The lift came to a stop with a weak vibration and a loud clunk.
"The Atrium," announced the cool female voice. The anxious chatter of several dozen men and women ceased at once as the golden grilles creaked open. Harry gasped for breath when he saw all eyes turn towards him, full of anticipation. He noticed that many of the Aurors standing at the ready were recent graduates of Hogwarts. Susan Bones, Head of the Auror office, approached him at that moment.
"Susan, what's going on?" asked Harry quietly. "Are we really gonna put the new Aurors into action?"
"There's no other way," sighed Susan. "We had to hire so many fresh recruits since there were so few of us left in the first place. . . . Still, they should all know the basics of Defense Against the Dark Arts. They are better than none in a supporting role."
Harry looked around at the teenage Aurors, speechless. Even as they whispered excitedly to each other, they glanced admiringly at Harry from time to time. These young people were here because they had heard legends about Harry Potter and had been inspired to become Aurors. Although it didn't matter if he died, if innocent people died because of him . . . could he stand such injustices? Since losing his magic, Harry had never felt more helpless than he did now.
"Organize yourselves into ten groups and gather around the fireplace!" shouted Susan. "We may fall prey to an ambush if we move together, so each of you should divide into ten different shops and head toward Diagon Alley."
As ordered by Susan, the more experienced Aurors and Hit Wizards stepped forward with serious expressions, while the new recruits looked nervous but determined. One by one, they filled the fireplaces along the walls, and then vanished with emerald flames. Just like the other newcomers, Harry felt unfamiliar and awkward, as if this was his first time participating in such a mission. He stumbled his way toward the nearest fireplace, scattered some Floo powder into it, and shouted, "Diagon Alley!"
While falling downwards, the world spun and blurred as if he was caught in a whirlwind. There was a deafening roar, like thunder striking near his ears, and an emerald flame flashed green before his eyes like a glowing spiral. It was Harry's wish that the green flame was a deadly curse, taking his life and preventing him from experiencing any more humiliation.
The spinning walls of the strange landscape and chambers became hazy, and a chill settled over the face as if the cold touch of death had settled upon it. After some seconds, the Floo Network that had served as his brief sanctuary was cast aside, leaving him in the empty fireplace of an abandoned shop.
Harry shivered as he emerged out of the cold fireplace. Normally, he would have used the magic wand to remove the soot from his shoulder, but now he had to do it by his own hands. The shabby and narrow shop looked familiar as he brushed off the soot; he then realized that this was Ollivander's wand shop. Every wall in sight was lined with narrow boxes filled with variety of magic wands, and there was only one piece of furniture, a small dust-covered chair without armrests in the interior. Since the kidnapping of Garrick Ollivander by the Dawn Breakers earlier this year, it seemed that no one had touched the place.
He checked to see if anyone was following him as he stepped onto the stone floor; it seemed he was the only one who had come through this fireplace. He held the wand above his head in the same way he had when he had first acquired it. With a swish, he sent dust swirling in the musty air of the room. Except for a small gust of wind caused by his movement, nothing happened. His hand drooped as he recalled that, on the day of his eleventh birthday, he had discovered irrefutable evidence of his magical abilities right here in this shop. Yet in the same place today, he was only reminded of the pitiful truth that he was just an ordinary Muggle now.
With his strength depleted beyond all hope, Harry pushed open the stiff, rusty door and trudged into Diagon Alley. The main street was already filled with an amassed crowd of Aurors and Hit Wizards who had arrived via the many fireplaces of the shops lining the alley. In fear of harm, passers-by and shopkeepers whispered among themselves, clinging to the wall.
"I'll lead the way," Harry told Susan and strode to the front row, followed by dozens of Aurors and Hit Wizards. Their footsteps echoed in the quiet air. Harry felt the gaze of the multitude of people on the street land on his back. If only he could die in the middle of an operation today, if only he could leave this world hiding an ugly secret from others today. . . . It seemed like the best solution to his agony, no matter how he looked at it.
Gingotts Bank's dominating presence had always been conspicuous in Diagon Alley, but it was even more so that day. The snowy white edifice was engulfed in flames, causing thick smoke to billow into the sky, while its magnificent bronze doors hung askew, blackened by the fire. There were ghastly red puddles and the twisted bodies of fallen goblins littering the scorched marble steps. As the young aurors who had participated in the raid for the first time witnessed the brutal sight, they looked on in horror and breathed deeply. Taking the steps, Harry realized he was no better prepared than the new recruits and felt his footsteps becoming heavier than ever.
"Killed by the Muggle's wands," said Susan, kneeling beside the nearest dead goblin guards dressed in scarlet and gold uniforms. Harry kneeled beside her and examined the bullet holes in their bodies. The part of the red cloth hit by the gun was soaked in blood, making it even redder, and the surrounding area was charred black from the bullet's heat. It seemed as if the goblin had suffered for a very long time before finally passing away, for his face was grotesquely contorted. When compared to the brutal weapons of the Muggles, the Killing Curse seemed almost merciful.
"Use Shield Charm first when you meet the enemy," Harry commanded his wizards and witches. "The Dawn Breakers use magic along with guns or bombs. . . . When you don't protect yourself all the time, a bullet will pierce your body before you can blink."
It struck him as ironic that he was the only one incapable of using the Shield Charm among all of them. Harry continued up the stairs and entered the partially open bronze doors, charred black from a bomb's blast, with only one of its ornate hinges still hanging on. The second set of doors made of silver inside had no visible damage but were half-open. Red spray paint was applied over the words engraved upon the doors that foretold terrible retribution for thieves, and it read:
AND GOT ROBBED BY THREE TEENAGERS!
There was no doubt about the fact that the three teenagers referred to Harry himself and his friends Ron and Hermione. Was that the reason Eisenbein brought his men to attack Gringotts? Did he, as he had done in the past few months, seek to ridicule Harry's past glory? Was he using the same objects and wisdom that had saved Harry's life once to strangle him? It would be found in the depths below, whatever the answer might be.
As they passed through the silver doors and entered the bank's hall, a scene more horrific than anything they had seen outside awaited them. The once pristine marble floor was stained with scuffs and dried blood, as if it had melted and congealed like some metal. Broken reception desks, torn ledger pages, and brass scales littered the floor along with other debris. Goblin bankers, reduced to mere corpses, were piled like luggage in one corner. And in the other corner —
"Madam Malkin!" Teddy cried out, darting past Harry's side.
Wizards and witches who had visited the bank at the wrong time lay motionless on the floor, their eyes closed. With his godson by his side, Harry sat down beside Madam Malkin, who lay on the floor alongside the other dead customers. The shop she owned was called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions; Harry had frequented it since he was a student at Hogwarts. But now, Madam Malkin's cold, stiff body lay on the floor. In death, Madam Malkin's face still bore a slight upturn of the lips, as if she were smiling. He felt as if some evil bird had torn a piece of his heart away when he saw her lifeless form. Teddy was trembling as he gazed at the death of someone he had known for so long, his hands tightly gripping the wand.
"Harry, there's no time for this," said Susan. "The Dawn Breakers must have reached the lowest level by now. . . . The longer we delay, the more advantage they gain."
Standing up, Harry was suddenly struck by a question. The bodies of the wizard and witch lying on the floor showed no signs of injury, unlike the goblins who had died from gunshot wounds.
"Unlike the Goblins, it seems that they have cursed humans to die," said Harry. "Why would they make such a difference?"
"It's hard to understand the madness of these people," replied Susan. "Perhaps they value human life more than that of any other being? A Killing Curse must be less painful than a bullet."
Harry pondered further for a reason, but couldn't seem to find a more plausible explanation than what Susan had offered. He looked up at the numerous doors that led from the hall to the underground vaults.
"Open all the doors," Harry commanded, and Susan and the Aurors raised their wands in response. The passageways shrouded in darkness were soon all revealed.
"Enter the doors and wait by the rail," said Harry. "We're going down."
Susan stepped forward, leading the way as the Hit Wizards and Aurors began to pass through the many passageways and into the darkness. Harry grabbed Teddy and spun him around.
"Teddy, stay. Someone needs to keep an eye on things up here."
Teddy's eyes widened in shock, as though he had heard the most absurd thing ever. "What do you mean? So many people have died — I can't just sit here and do nothing!"
"You're the only one who can change your appearance," said Harry firmly. "In case of an emergency, you'll pose as a bystander outside, keeping an eye on Gringotts."
"What emergency could there be with so many Aurors around?" snapped Teddy. "The killers of Madam Malkin must be —"
"Damn it, I know!" shouted Harry. Teddy raised an eyebrow, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "You think I don't want revenge? But I must keep my head straight when doing something as dangerous as this."
"Why don't you ask someone else —"
"You're the one who's waiting here, end of story," said Harry forcefully. "I'll fire you if you violate my orders."
Teddy glared at him, took a deep breath, and sat down at a nearby counter. A few young Aurors were still watching the argument in the lobby when Harry turned around.
"What are you waiting for? Get in there! And we need the Clankers — make sure to bring that leather bag,"
Harry clapped his hands, and his subordinates ran to the nearby door. One Auror grabbed a bag with a jangling sound behind the counter and brought it.
Harry remained behind until the very end, looking back at the marble hall before entering the dark, stone corridor. Teddy had closed his mouth and was lost in thought, and he realized that this could be the last time he saw his godson. Trying to clear his head, Harry ventured into the darkness, walking along the rough surface of the stone tunnel until he found the rails. There were already dozens of Aurors and Hit Wizards gathered around them.
"Someone give a whistle," said Harry, remembering his last break-in here. "Normally a goblin would have to authorize this, but since everyone has died, the spell might have been lifted. . . ."
One of the Aurors blew a whistle and a little cart arrived, rattling along the dark iron tracks. The other Aurors followed suit, blowing their whistles, and with each shrill sound, a new cart emerged from behind, joining the one that had appeared first. Soon, a dozen or so carts were joined together, forming a shape not unlike that of a small train. It was then that Susan Bones stepped forward, skillfully wielding her wand, and with a flick, the carts suddenly jolted and locked together with a loud clatter.
"What do we do now?" asked Susan.
"Let's all get on the train as much as we can, and the rest can follow on broomsticks," Harry replied. "That way, we can move more safely with aerial escorts."
"All right. Someone get us some broomsticks!" cried Susan, and a burly, mustached middle-aged Auror reached into his backpack and pulled out a bunch of broomsticks tied with ropes and laid them out on the ground. "Those of you who have played Quidditch among us, pick up a broomstick. Harry, you're going to fly, aren't you?"
"No, I'm gonna take the train," Harry said, trying to hide his sadness. In the absence of his magical powers, neither his wand nor broomstick obeyed his commands. "It is up to you, Susan, to lead the flight team and follow the train."
Susan raised an eyebrow in confusion when Harry refused to ride a broom despite his reputation as a great Quidditch player. However, she didn't refute as she picked up one of the remaining brooms and mounted it. Among the carts, Harry climbed into the front one, while the Hit Wizards squeezed into other compartments behind him. After everyone had boarded, as though under an invisible force, the small train made of little carts rattled and moved forward. Looking back, Harry saw other people flying on brooms, following the train in a long line in the air.
Harry's eyes, growing accustomed to the dark, could make out the maze-like tangle of passages and occasional stalagmites and stalactites that the train passed by. After several more changes of direction, the angle of the train gradually tilted forward, and they began to descend. He had been down this track before, with Ron and Hermione, on a reckless and dangerous raid. . . . But no matter how reckless he had been, at least he was a real wizard back then.
The train picked up speed as it hurtled downwards, taking the curve, and beyond the waterfall there was a flicker of something shining red. . . . There was no time to react. Drenched in water and having just passed through the waterfall, dozens of red lasers shot out of the walls and focused on the train. With deafening gunfire and flashes of flame coming from all directions, Harry quickly ducked his head as countless bullets ricocheted off the train, sparking flames.
"Arrrgh!" shouted an Auror who had been shot from behind.
"Protego!" shouted another Auror, quick to catch on, causing the bullets to bounce off an invisible shield in the air. Harry sighed and lifted his head again. The ones firing bullets were dozens of drones floating in the sky. Between the propellers on either side, the intense laser beams aimed at them and the drones looked like bizarre one-eyed birds made of dark metal.
When Harry turned his head forward again, he saw a small green light flashing in the middle of the tracks. Instinctively, Harry wasted time pulling out his useless wand, then belatedly shouted at the other Aurors behind him, "Shoot over there!"
But it was already too late. Their train passed the green light a second later, and with a loud bang, the carts that made up the train were shattered into the air, along with an enormous explosion. It was as if a small volcano had erupted right beneath them. Time seemed to slow down, and Harry held tightly onto the cart he was riding in as it shot upwards, but eventually the cart lost momentum and flipped over, sending Harry flying away.
Time, which had seemed to stop, suddenly resumed. He thrashed about in mid-air, falling lower and lower. It felt like a bottomless abyss had opened up and swallowed him whole. While spiraling down through the air, Harry instinctively reached out for nonexistent handholds and railings, spinning wildly. His heart, which had been pounding with terror, suddenly slowed down and his mind became calm as soon as he realized he was about to die. His death might not be as glorious as he had hoped, but it wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. It was surely better than continuing to live in such a pitiful state . . . in a non-magical state. . . .
"Aresto Momentum!"
Harry's hopes ended when someone shouted from above and halted his fall. As Susan flew over and waved her wand, Harry's body, which had been floating in the air, was loaded onto the back of her broom.
"Hold on tight, Harry!" said Susan, "I might not be able to save you twice!"
With dizziness clouding his vision, Harry clung onto Susan's broom from behind and surveyed his surroundings. Around him, similar events were taking place: Aurors expertly steered in the air and used magic to catch and place falling colleagues on broomsticks. A few cast spells to defend against drones' machine gun attacks and brought them down.
"We could've been all killed," said Susan. "Harry, you saved us — you told half of us to ride broomsticks."
Harry muttered in agreement. Once the confusion had settled, broomsticks carrying two people each began a rapid descent towards the rocky ground. Susan's blonde hair whipped about in the damp breeze, occasionally brushing Harry's cheek. Upon reaching the uneven terrain, the witches and wizards dismounted the brooms and drew their wands. Looking up, they saw the drones swarming like angry hornets around the waterfall far above, unable to approach them due to the Shield Charms.
Harry gripped his useless wand and signaled for the others to follow. The assault team proceeded forward through the spacious but stuffy stone tunnel, shrouded in darkness that made it feel more confined than it actually was. The clanging of chains nearby foreshadowed their next challenge. There was no need for Harry to see it to know what awaited him. . . As they rounded the corner, a vast underground cavern suddenly appeared before them, ringed by jagged rock cliffs and spiked stalactites. It seemed improbable that such a large space could exist beneath the earth.
In one corner, crouched low and shackled with thick chains around both legs, was —
"Dragon!" one of the young Aurors exclaimed in awe.
"The rumors were true!" Another young Auror echoed her sentiment.
"Everyone, quiet!" Harry commanded, pausing to survey the direction of the dragon. Harry had seen a dragon in the same location before, during his previous intrusion down here. Like then, the dragon before him had scales that were pale and brittle due to its long and harsh confinement. There were numerous scars on its face, and huge spiked wings folded close to its body that must never have been used.
The previous dragon here had had turbid pink eyes, blinded by goblins. But now, the new dragon's eye sockets were completely hollow, with empty, vacant stares. The goblins, having learned their lesson from the last time the dragon had escaped, seemed to have taken even more thorough measures this time around. It was difficult to know for sure whether the dragon was aware of its surroundings or not, as it had no eyelids or discernible pupils. However, from the way it leaned forward with its head on its front paws and emitted thick plumes of smoke each time it exhaled heavily, Harry could infer that this fearsome reptile was likely asleep.
Harry cautiously took two steps forward onto the clearing, but his subordinates, many of whom would be seeing a live dragon for the first time, just nervously murmured behind him and didn't follow hastily. Harry narrowed his eyes and looked toward the passage leading to the deepest vaults, partially blocked by the dragon. There could be anyone hiding in the darkness.
"We have to pass through here," said Harry. "Someone give me a Clanker."
Susan received a leather bag from an Auror and opened it. There were several small metal instruments inside that would produce a loud, ringing noise like miniature hammers hitting anvils when shaken.
One was taken by Harry, and the rest were taken by Susan and a few other aurors. A cold iron Clanker in his hand felt more reliable than a wand, giving him an odd feeling of confidence. After making a small clanging sound with the tool, Harry called the Aurors and Hit Wizards around him.
"Listen up, everyone — there are vaults of the oldest wizarding families and the Ministry over there," said Harry, glancing in the direction where the dragon was. Still snoring, the dragon made rustling sounds like a boiling kettle. "To reach it, we have to get past it, but we don't want to disturb the sleeping dragon, do we?"
At Harry's words, a few of the Aurors chuckled nervously, hiding their unease. Harry drew his Clanker out and held it up. "Don't mess with the dragons if you can help it, but if you do wake it up, shake this as hard as you can. It'll keep it from charging us."
"Mr. Potter, is it true that you broke into these vaults as a teenager?" asked a freckled young Hit Wizard.
"I heard that too! Didn't you also knock out a Hungarian Horntail with your bare fist in the Triwizard Tournament?" said a witch around the same age.
"The rumors are greatly exaggerated," Harry said with a bitter taste in his mouth. "In any case, it's all behind us now. . . ."
As Harry marched ahead, holding the Clanker like a torch, the Aurors and Hit Wizards, emboldened by his courage, followed closely behind with their wands at the ready. Despite their efforts to remain silent, the clanging of multiple metal tools jangled like a pocketful of coins and echoed through the dark clearing. Every time the dragon breathed out, Harry felt a hot gust of air brush against his skin, but he ignored it, keeping his gaze fixed on the darkness ahead.
Clunk. The sound coming from the dark passage caused everyone to freeze.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
The metallic clatter of footsteps continued, accompanied by the hiss of steam. And then, as if separating himself from the darkness, Eisenbein emerged into the open space. A burning rage sparked in Harry's chest, followed by a feeling of helplessness that squelched the flames.
Even though Eisenbein had killed his dear Hagrid and reduced Harry himself to the wretched fate of a common Muggle, now he could do nothing to his enemy. Regardless, Eisenbein stared nonchalantly at the Aurors in front of him. His indistinct, smoky face swirled under his hood. From beneath the cloak, he extended his shimmering silver hand and pointed to the Clanker in Harry's grasp.
"That won't do you any good. I have placed the Muffliato Charm for the poor sleeping lizard over there," said Eisenbein. As always, his voice was mechanical and harsh, as if spoken by a machine rather than a human. The two legs made of steel, visible beneath the cloak over his lower body, hissed and emitted steam in harmony with their master's voice.
"You must be Eisenbein," Susan said as she stepped forward, aiming her wand straight at him. "Your hands are already stained with the blood of innocent lives. . . . This must stop now and forever!"
"So, you are the niece of Amelia Bones," Eisenbein tilted his head slightly as he spoke. "Resembling your aunt in her bravery . . . she was a remarkable Auror herself. I'll let you go unharmed if you retreat quietly."
Susan clenched her lips tightly and tried to advance, but Harry held onto her robe sleeve. Harry gathered his courage and said firmly to his adversary, "You're outnumbered and outmatched. Surrender now."
"I'm not so sure about that, Harry," replied Eisenbein. More footsteps echoed in the darkness of the passageway, followed by the arrival of more Dawn Breakers. Half of them wore robes and held wands like typical Dark wizards, while the other half wore black military uniforms with caps and carried rifles like Muggle soldiers.
Most conspicuous of the new arrivals was the man with the scorpioid metal device attached to his waist using a thick steel belt. The old soldier wore a scarlet beret and had one of his eyes replaced with a prosthetic that was glowing red like a laser. Above his head, a scorpion-tail-like machine kept jerking in all directions, as if it had a mind of its own. Eisenbein turned his head to address the strange soldier.
"Colonel Fubster, what do you make of the current situation?"
In a flashing red hue, Fubster's mechanical eye, reminiscent of Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye, swept over Harry and his Aurors.
"I'm not quite sure, sir," said Fubster dryly. "With the numbers so evenly matched, it's difficult to expect the outcome. . . ."
"Well, Colonel, it would be helpful if we made a new friend now, wouldn't it?" said Eisenbein. "If you have a spare eye or two, do share."
As Harry and the Aurors looked on, Fubster retrieved two round objects, each the size of a tennis ball, from his pocket and placed them in Eisenbein's outstretched silver hand. The two spherical objects began to emit a blinking red light in his palm. They looked like artificial eyeballs and were much larger than what filled Fubster's one eye socket. A quick flick of Eisenbein's wand sent the two eyeballs soaring into the air. As everyone watched in awe, it entered through the vacant, hollow eyes of the sleeping dragon, filling it up completely. The dragon's eye sockets were no longer empty; intense red lights emanated from its non-blinking eyes.
"Oh, Harry," whispered Susan at his side, "this isn't good . . . not good at all. . . ."
With another swift movement of his wand, Eisenbein made the dragon growl low and raise its sinister head. Suddenly, the beast breathed heavily, as if the sudden return of sight was unfamiliar to it. It turned its head to face Harry and his wizards on one side and Eisenbein and the Dawn Breakers on the other. As the snickering and pale scales combined with the striking red glow of its new mechanical eyes, the dragon appeared more menacing than ever before. Colonel Fubster and his men aimed their rifles at the dragon with tense postures, while the Aurors and Hit Wizards, excluding Harry and Susan, retreated quietly to the back.
"No need to worry, I can speak the language of snakes. . . . I learned it from Moran-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," said Eisenbein as he stepped forward. "Hopefully, as dragons are kin to snakes, we'll be able to converse. . . ."
Its crimson mechanical eyes were now entirely fixed on Eisenbein as he approached the dragon. Long, sharp teeth and lava-like embers could be seen inside the slightly parted lips. From Eisenbein, who was staring straight at the dragon, came a hissing sound that wasn't human. But Harry could understand the words; even though he could no longer speak Parseltongue after the destruction of Voldemort's soul attached to him, the ability to comprehend it must have remained deep in his subconscious mind.
"I have brought light to your world, the mightiest and most powerful creature in the skies and on the earth," hissed Eisenbein, and the flames that had been spreading out of the dragon's mouth began to die down. "They are the ones who trapped you in the darkness. Join me in vanquishing our common enemies!"
The dragon turned its massive head towards Harry and his Aurors as though weighing Eisenbien's words. Harry raised the Clanker high, ready to use it if necessary; without the magical ability, it was his only available weapon. The dragon growled and began to approach, but was halted by the sturdy chains that bound its thick hind legs to the nearby rocks.
Suddenly, a loud, ringing noise of metal echoed through the stagnant air of the underground, as if a blacksmith were striking his hammer against an anvil. When Harry turned his head, one of his novice Aurors was swinging a Clanker with all his might, terror etched on his face. It seemed his fear was contagious, and the other Aurors began to shake their own instruments in unison. Several clankers rattled together, amplifying the sound in all directions as they struck the cave walls. Harry's eardrums throbbed with pain and the ground beneath his feet shook like an earthquake.
"It is unacceptable to abuse poor animals," Eisenbein said amid the chaos. Swinging the Elder Wand in his hand, the Clankers Harry and the Aurors were holding flew up and out of sight, propelled by an unseen force. As the ringing noise died down, the roaring of the dragon that had been shaking its head wildly subsided along with it, and its new red eyes, brimming with open hostility rather than uncertainty, turned back toward Harry. No longer attempting to assess the situation, the dragon gaped its jaws and let out a deafening roar, causing strength to drain from Harry's shaky legs.
"Now do what you must . . . Relashio!"
The chain that bound the dragon snapped with a loud bang with another wave of Eisenbein's wand. The freed dragon opened its jaws wide, and Harry saw flames writhing inside them. . . .
"Protego!" cried Susan. The flames the dragon breathed were blocked by an invisible barrier, but the air around them grew so hot that the tiny mice that had been hiding in the nearby burrows were startled by the sudden heat and fled from their hiding places, scurrying away from underfoot.
"Watch above!" yelled one of the Aurors.
As Harry looked up, the drones lurking in the darkness seized the opportunity and began to shoot at them. He turned his gaze back ahead and saw flashes of intense green light flying past the approaching dragon, piercing through the magical shield created by Susan's charm. By the Killing Curses, three Aurors fell to the ground and died without being able to scream.
"Incoming curses! Keep your guard up!" Harry shouted.
The dragon kept breathing fire and moving its massive feet towards them, each step causing the ground to tremble. The situation couldn't get any more dire. . . . At least, that's what Harry thought, until he ducked his head to avoid the Killing Curse and looked down. The shallow layer of sand on the ground was densely covered with thin, long fuses, and at the end of each was a tiny spark, ignited by the heat of the dragon's breath. The rapidly shortening fuses strongly reminded Harry of bombs about to explode in the cartoons he had watched as a child. . . .
"THERE ARE MINES!" shouted Harry. "EVERYONE, EVADE!"
Harry had resolved to fight bravely to the end, but his instincts overtook him at that moment. Harry fled from the burning fuses on the ground, as did the disoriented Aurors and Hit Wizards. Then the ground exploded with a force that seemed capable of ripping out souls while everyone tried to reach the passage. Harry's body flew up like a rag doll caught in a hurricane, and a wall of rock loomed in front of him. Harry covered his head with both arms, but he couldn't completely ward off the fierce impact. The first collision was followed by sharp pain as Harry struck the rough earth. His consciousness finally lapsed.