Harry was no stranger to pain in his forehead, but the stabbing ache he felt this time was not from the lightning-bolt scar like it always had. He moved his hand to touch the painful area and felt something wet. Harry opened his bleary eyes and examined the sticky blood on his hand. He couldn't remember how he ended up lying on the dark, hard floor. As he reached out to his side, he felt the smooth, damp texture of a rocky surface. Yes, that was a stalagmite, and he was lying deep inside a cavern . . .
"C'mon, hurry up and deal with it. Isn't that what you were trained for?"
The harsh voice echoed through the cave. As Harry held his breath, trying to remember whose voice it was, Fubster's name suddenly came to mind. At that moment, everything that had happened up to that point rushed into his mind: the hall of Gringotts Bank filled with corpses, the exploding tracks, and the fire of the dragon. . . .
A groaning, pained whimper could be heard beyond the stalagmites where Harry was hiding.
"Avada Kedavra!" Someone else shouted, and a flash of green light illuminated the high ceiling of the cave. The groaning abruptly ceased.
"Good, one more name removed from the hit list," said Fubster lightly. "Our world benefits from having fewer dangerous wizards and witches. . . . Keep working! There are still many names to erase."
"Avada Kedavra!" A few seconds later, the green light flashed again. Harry, risking danger, half lifted his body and looked over the stalagmite where he was hiding. In the spot where the mines had just exploded and the dragon's flames had swept through, injured Aurors and Hit Wizards lay motionless or crawled desperately, groaning. With their wands in hand, the Dawn Breakers dressed in black robes were walking around the place. On one side, Colonel Fubster, who was easily recognizable by his one bright red eye and the scorpioid machine moving above his head, was supervising the massacre.
At that moment, a female Auror with her face covered in soot struggled to raise her wand while lying on the ground. But to her terror, the scorpion-tail machine hovering above Fubster's head swiveled and fired a powerful red laser beam from its tip.
"Arrrgh!" The Auror screamed in agony as the laser struck her wrist, causing her wand to fly away and disappear into the darkness.
"Avra Kadavra!"
One of the Dawn Breakers fired a Killing Curse. However, perhaps due to a mispronunciation, the Auror was thrown backward by the impact, bleeding from the nose but still gasping for air; she was still alive.
"Well, well, well, Kowalski," said Fubster as he drew his rifle. "We didn't offer you a comfortable home and servants just so you could fail us like this. . . . Try again, and speak louder!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
Kowalski, as he was called, fired the deadly curse again, and this time the flash of dazzling green light hit the Auror squarely, leaving her no time to close her eyes before falling back to the ground. . . . It was such a revolting scene. Harry realized that he had his wand in his hand, but there was nothing he could do with it, unless he wanted to poke someone's eye out with it. Fubster gazed piercingly through his crimson mechanical eye at the dead witch, then picked up the plastic clipboard that he had been carrying in his side pocket.
"Tiara Wilkins, nineteen years old, Auror, deceased. . . ." Muttering these words, Fubster drew a line with a pen on the list on the clipboard. It was clear that one of the newly hired Aurors had just died moments ago.
Harry's hand shook with rage, but the last shred of reason in his mind made him stay behind the stalagmite and hold back his useless wand. He did not care if he died here and now, but if he could save even one innocent life in this hellish place . . . at least he might accomplish that before he left this world. He lowered his head once again and hid behind the stalagmite, tears falling down his face as he grieved for those dying around him. The stalactite dripped water from the high ceiling as if to sympathize with him.
"You've used a Killing Curse more than once, haven't you? Not yet, Warren? Slow as a slug," said the voice of Fubster. "Ah, there're still some easy targets left. . . . Hurry up and finish them off, the treasures we need to plunder are piled up high."
Footsteps could be heard, followed by someone stumbling and getting up with a groan. "Stupe — Aargh!"
There was the sound of laser firing as someone's wand fell to the ground with a weak thud. It seemed one of Harry's subordinates had just fallen while trying to resist.
"Avada Keda —"
"No! Don't kill him!" a high-pitched voice said. "Not my brother, kill me instead!"
"No! Get out of there, Benedict!" Another voice shouted desperately. "Just kill me!"
Unable to bear it any longer, Harry stuck his head out over the rock.
A Hit Wizard lay crumpled on the ground, gripping his smoking wrist. In front of him, a young, inexperienced Auror stood with both arms outstretched, blocking the way. The Dawn Breaker who took aim at them hesitated, and glanced back at Fubster.
"Colonel, wasn't such an occasion covered in our manual?" asked the man who had been called Warren earlier. He scratched his hooded head, revealing a face dotted with acne scars and horn-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. "Well, use the Killing Curse in the wrong situation, and it might bounce back with the power of love. . . . That's what happened to the Dark Lord, you know."
"Listen carefully now," said Fubster crisply to the crowd of Dawn Breakers. His tone was that of a teacher instructing his students. "The old magic known as love only activates when someone sacrifices themselves to protect another soul."
"Oh, does that condition apply to this case as well, then?" The young man who had been earlier called Kowalski removed his hood and spoke up. He had a round face that reminded Harry of Neville Longbottom, and small button-like eyes.
"No, Kowalski," said Fubster softly. "The crucial factor here is that the person must give up their chance to survive even when they're given it. Only then can it be considered a sacrifice. Harry Potter and his mother are the most famous examples of this, as you all know. . . ."
"Sir, I still don't understand," said another Dawn Breaker, who had a muscular build and a bulldog-like look with saggy jowls. "So, does the power of love work for those brothers or not?"
"No matter how powerful love is, Buchanan, even it won't be able to put some knowledge into your thick skull," Fubster said with a deep sigh. "Listen carefully. No one among us has ever promised mercy to either of them. In other words, neither of them has been given a chance to survive. . . . Now you know what to do, don't you?"
"Ah, yes. Understood, Colonel," replied the man called Buchanan. After that, he and Warren pointed their wands at the younger brother blocking their path and the older brother behind him, respectively.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Two flashes of green light cut through the darkness, and the wizard brothers died instantly, falling to the ground without a single cry. Harry almost cried out, but managed to cover his mouth just in time. Buchanan and Warren approached the fallen brothers with satisfied expressions, kicking the corpses and making sure they were truly dead.
As Fubster watched the scene without showing any emotion, he crossed off two names from the list with a pen, erasing them from existence. He glanced over the dead bodies of the Aurors and Hit Wizards littered across the clearing and the path behind it, one of his eyes shining with intense red light.
" Hmm, looks like there are no survivors here. But there are still some names on the list we haven't killed yet, including Susan Bones, Head of the Auror office. They must be hiding somewhere like rats. . . Buchanan and Warren, follow me up and search along with me. Kowalski and the others — stay here and help open the vault."
"Excuse me, Colonel — I've got a question," said Kowalski timidly. "What should we do when someone is truly protected by the power of love?"
With no hesitation or words, Fubster drew his gun from his waist and fired a shot at the nearest fallen Auror. The gunshot echoed loudly in the underground space.
"That's what you should do. Even love cannot stop a bullet," said Fubster, and the Dawn Breakers murmured their agreement while nodding their heads in unison. There were even people taking notes, jotting down the information they had just heard. Colonel Fubster, along with Warren and Buchanan, turned the corner and left the clearing, while the others moved towards the vault on the opposite side. Harry stood up behind the stalagmite, gasping for breath as he looked at the gruesome scene in silence.
The majority of the Aurors and Hit Wizards had been burned by fire, shot by bullets, and eventually struck by the Killing Curses and were now dead right before his eyes. Today was nothing less than a funeral for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and a more suitable day for Harry's own funeral couldn't have been chosen. It would be no greater shame for him if he ended up living alone when all his subordinates had passed away. . . . At that moment, a strong wind blew from the side where the massive vaults of old wizarding families were gathered, scattering the sand and fluttering the robes of the dead Aurors. Harry covered his eyes with his hand and turned to face the direction from which the gust of wind was blowing. The white dragon with two bright red eyes, similar to Fubster's artificial one, was soaring and flying toward him.
Its white scales shone in the darkness, giving the impression of an abnormally large pale moon rising in the night sky. The last time Harry had come to this underground place, he soared with the dragon toward freedom, but now he was nothing but a helpless observer.
"Try that passage over there, my reptilian friend," the hissing language of snake was heard, and as Eisenbein walked over him, Harry quickly hid behind the stalagmite again. The dragon, unbelievably fast for its massive size, descended like a raptor attacking its prey and flew for the open passage that lead to outside.
As the giant wings flapped up and down, the bodies strewn across the floor were swept up by the wind and slid away. The dragon tried to fit through the passage with its enormous jaw. When it couldn't, it opened its mouth wide and breathed out powerful flames. The passage, which had already collapsed once before, couldn't withstand the blast and exploded, and its debris flew in all directions. Harry crouched down and covered his head with both arms. Even after the dragon had passed, a strong wind from the huge flapping of its wings blew through the widened passage that had been forcibly expanded, and the dying flames around the entrance licked their tongues in response.
"The goblins were just unlucky when this place was raided for the first time," Eisenbein muttered as he looked at the spot where the dragon had just passed. "But if it's taken out the same way a second time, then it deserves to be robbed, don't you think?" When the flames around the tunnel and its surroundings had died down at last, Eisenbein turned around. "It's time to open the vault. You four — stay here and keep an eye on the tunnel."
While the four Dawn Breakers remained to watch the tunnel, the others passed by the empty space where the dragon had been and headed toward the deeper part of the cave. It seemed impossible to get past the watchers and escape outside, so Harry had no choice but to carefully move behind the stalagmites and approach the vaults on the other side of the passage.
With his smoky face, Eisenbein carefully observed the vaults one by one, then took out his wand and swung it toward the leftmost one, shouting "Revelio!"
The bright amber shield surrounding the wooden door was gradually revealed by the spell.
"Of course, there are numerous curses on it . . . but they are no match for the most powerful wand ever," said Eisenbein finally. He pulled back the hem of his cloak and took out one of the several wands stuck in his belt. Harry could now see the rough surface of the Elder Wand in his silver hand.
Eisenbein gave the wand several swings with force, and each time, sparks of golden, red, and blue flames flew towards the magical shield surrounding the vault. With each movement of his arm, the amber-colored shield gradually began to split from the center and finally shattered like glass, disappearing in an instant. Eisenbein took a step forward and cautiously placed his hand on the wooden door of the vault, but when there was no response, he stepped back.
"All that's left is some wood. . . . Blow it up with a bomb."
Two of the Dawn Breakers in black bulletproof vests stepped forward at his order. They opened a large black bag and began attaching the red brick-like bombs inside it to the door. Finally, as the work was complete, they all backed away, and Harry reflexively covered his ears. One of them activated the trigger, and a deafening roar echoed throughout the cave as a massive explosion shattered the thick wooden door and the metal hinges, revealing a gaping hole. The Dawn Breakers crowded around, unable to take their eyes off the magnificent treasure that was now revealed behind it, and Harry was no exception, stealing glances at the sight.
Within a fairly spacious area were gold coins and dinnerware, silver armor, and all kinds of precious jewels, so much so that it was difficult to walk through them.
"Well, this should be quite helpful in building our factory," said Eisenbein, waving his wand one last time, and a bright red light flooded the vault. "I've lifted the Gemino and Flagrante Curses. . . . Now, use the drones to transport everything up. Kowalski, lead the transport."
Kowalski, dressed in black robes, saluted and entered the vault. Following him, others carried large empty chests into the vault. Harry watched as a series of huge drones, each about the size of a motorcycle, flew through the passageway, altering the flow of air. The Dawn Breakers, who had just emerged from the vault with their spoils, tied chests filled with silver and gold coins beneath the drones with ropes. As soon as each task was completed, the drones would fly out through the widened passageway, blowing up sand under their propellers as they went.
Watching the Dawn Breakers expertly empty the vault, Harry's own raid on the same place for the Hufflepuff's cup when he was seventeen seemed embarrassingly amateurish. Eisenbein was preoccupied with lifting the defensive spells in front of other vaults nearby, and each time it was completed, the demolition team approached and blew apart the weakened door with explosives. Lost in the mesmerizing spectacle of countless treasures being loaded onto carts and carried out by the drones, Harry forgot the need to leave this place — it made his eyes prickle to see all the shining gold and silver coins.
Within minutes, all the doors had been destroyed, leaving only one in the center. It wasn't long before Harry recognized the remaining vault as that of the Lestrange family, into which he had once infiltrated; now the Ministry of Magic's wealth was stored in the same vault.
"I can see why the Ministry uses this as its own . . . someone has placed a very powerful curse on it," said Eisenbein, as he held out his silver hand, which seemed to be drawn toward the door like a magnet. "Judging by the familiar feeling, it seems to be Voldemort's work. . . . Do not touch this door for the time being."
Uncertain of what to do, Harry leaned against the cave wall. Even if he wanted to escape from here, the four Dawn Breakers were still blocking the only exit and guarding it, and he couldn't fight them when he couldn't use magic. The suffocating time that followed was dominated only by the jingling of stolen gold and silver coins in chests and the humming of drones propelling upwards. Until suddenly, a scream echoed through the cave. . .
"ARRRRRRRRGH! MY HAND!" Kowalski shouted.
Harry quickly looked up from behind the sharp stones and assessed the situation. One of Kowalski's arms was stuck inside the vault that Eisenbein had warned them not to touch. It appeared Kowalski had foolishly leaned against it and had been caught. While Kowalski twisted his body in pain, the five of his companions pulling him in the opposite direction only caused his arm to sink further into the wooden door, as if it were sinking into a swamp.
"IT BURNS!" Kowalski began to whimper. "KILL ME! SOMEONE JUST KILL ME!"
"Make way!"
The clanging sound of footsteps echoed as Eisenbein emerged from the darkness and pushed through the crowd. He gestured for the others to step back and approached the vault, where Kowalski was firmly stuck.
"I command you in your master's name: Release this man," Eisenbein said to the monstrous door, and it hissed like a snake in response. Kowalski's arm sank deeper into the vault, and his screams grew louder. Eisenbein raised his right hand and brought it closer to the door, revealing a rough gold ring with a solid black stone set in the center. The moment Harry saw the stolen Resurrection Stone, his heart skipped a beat. "This stone belongs to your master and his ancestors before him. . . . I command you again, release this man. The price has already been paid in blood . . . "
The door hesitated for a moment, making a hissing sound, before finally opening like a snake's mouth and spitting out the arm. Kowalski staggered and fell to the ground with a thud. His round face, now pale like a corpse, contrasted sharply with his blackened and shriveled arm which looked as though it had been burned in a fire.
"All four of you! Come and escort Kowalski from here. We need the touch of someone who knows Healing Spells well," said Eisenbein. In response, the Dawn Breakers, who had been guarding the entrance, rushed in quickly. Meanwhile, Eisenbein conjured up a floating stretcher and carefully levitated Kowalski onto it. He then faced the now completely open vault of the Ministry. Inside, there was a massive pile of wizard money that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had worked so hard to fill with the help of Faraday Prewett.
"Be extra careful when moving these things. . . . They are ours at the cost of our comrade's blood," Eisenbein said in a voice that sounded somewhat sad.
Harry looked around the area where he and his men were standing, crowded with people who were there to escort the groaning and unconscious Kowalski, and then checked toward the tunnel again. It was now empty, thanks to the recent chaos that had just occurred. Crouching and racing through the passage, Harry took full advantage of the opportunity to escape this nightmarish place. When he looked back, there was no movement from the fully darkened space where the treasure was kept.
He turned back around, and nearly collided with a black object. Upon closer inspection, it was one of the drones that was carrying the treasure and flying low. Turning the corner, Harry caught his breath for a moment and the passage widened as he took a few more steps. The Thief's Downfall poured water onto the track somewhere up there, making a soft pattering sound. The drone, jingling the golden coins in the chest hanging below it, soared toward the pouring water and disappeared in an instant. Harry stood frozen in place, overwhelmed with a sense of despair. He had come this far to help someone before bravely facing death, but now surrounded by darkness, he didn't know what to do. . . .
"Harry, is that you?" A woman's thine voice echoed in the distance. The sound was so faint that it was almost drowned out by the sound of the distant waterfall.
"Yes, it's me. Where are you, Susan?"
"Over here . . . behind the rock. . . ."
Harry cautiously moved in the direction of the voice. Despite his eyes adjusting to the darkness, he stumbled over the occasional jutting rock. As he approached behind a cluster of stalagmites, a flat figure resembling a rock caught his eye.
"Can you stand up?" Harry asked, taking Susan's surprisingly cold hand in his.
"Water . . . so thirsty," whispered Susan in a weak and hoarse voice.
Harry lifted her up with all his strength and supported her by putting her arm around his shoulders. As they emerged from behind the rock in the dim, hazy light, Harry was taken aback. Susan's face was completely red, her skin peeled off by the flames of the dragon earlier, and her eyes were almost shut.
"Water, please . . . " Susan whispered in a barely audible voice. Harry reached for his wand at his waist to use the Aguamenti Charm but suddenly realized his own predicament and bit his lip.
"Water . . . water . . . " Susan's voice grew smaller and smaller.
"Keep holding on, Susan. I'll take you to the lake," said Harry. With her frail arm draped over his shoulder, Harry proceeded slowly. Although Susan was light, the ground was bumpy, with large and small stalagmites and stone fragments scattered about, causing them to trip several times. Susan had lost consciousness and was now just walking along with Harry's movements, relying solely on his legs. Harry noticed something faintly sparkling in the darkness and led Susan in that direction. It was a miniature train track where Gringotts carts passed by.
"We'll just follow this path from now on. Please hold on," said Harry soothingly, but there was no answer to be found in the tangled mess of Susan's hair. They walked along the winding track for what seemed like an eternity. With the space narrowing, it became difficult to confirm where the track was, and they stumbled and nearly fell several times. Susan would groan painfully every time this happened. Fortunately, after climbing a particularly steep slope, the surrounding area became somewhat brighter thanks to the torches and candles hanging on the cave walls. Harry occasionally checked the walls on either side of the passage for any doors, and finally found a small one that looked familiar. The vault with the number six-hundred-and-eighty-seven written on it was Harry's own.
Even though the key to the vault was still in his pocket, the gold and silver coins that filled it would be of no help to quench Susan's thirst. No matter how much money he had, he could not use it underground. "Hang in there, Susan. We'll be at the lake soon enough," said Harry. Susan nodded her head almost imperceptibly. The place that he had breezed past riding in the cart now felt like walking through a thorn bush.
As Harry passed his vault, the slope became steeper than ever before. He struggled to climb it, Susan slung over his shoulder like a sack. His blistered soles burned and his robes were damp with sweat. At last they reached a point where the path flattened out again and he glimpsed a room where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the floor and ceiling like the teeth of some monstrous beast. And there, glimpsed through the jagged teeth of the surrounding rock, was the calm surface of a dark underground lake, like a black veil stretched taut.
"See it, Susan? That's the lake. We can quench your thirst there," said Harry. Susan finally lifted her burned, reddened face. "Hang in there. Drink some water, and you'll feel better."
Harry led Susan down the path, dodging stalagmites jutting out of the ground at every turn, until they finally reached the shore of the lake. Had he been too hasty? Almost at the water's edge, he stopped dead in his tracks on the damp, slippery ground. Susan's arm slipped from his shoulder and he fell into the lake with her. The water was freezing and much deeper than he'd expected. Harry struggled to the surface, fighting the black currents that closed in on him from all sides, grabbed Susan's arm and pulled her back to the shore. Shaking all over, Harry sat down on the bank and coughed until Susan, who had collapsed next to him, lifted herself up a bit.
"Harry, you woke me up." Susan whispered, barely audible. Her weakness aside, her tone was actually quite pleasant. "My throat also seems a little damp now."
Harry smiled in spite of himself at the remark.
". . . I definitely heard a splash, follow me!" came a voice from above.
"They're coming, Susan. We have to hide quickly," said Harry, pulling her to her feet. "They'll kill you if they find you."
"I'm picking up body heat on this side of the lake," said Fubster's voice, clearer than before. "Teddy Lupin and Susan Bones. . . . I'm guessing they're the two remaining ones on the list. Let's make this quick."
Harry quickened his pace, careful not to trip again. Fubster's mechanical eyes must have had many functions, and any clumsy ducking would have given them away. They retraced their steps back the way they had come, back onto the track. The clatter of footsteps above them grew closer, and the distance between them and their pursuers continued to close.
"It's all downhill from here — faster!" said Harry impatiently. They walked down the steep railway at a brisk pace. His vault was just around the corner, and if they could hide in it, they would be safe for the time being.
"There they are!" came Fubster's voice, followed by a loud crack of gunfire. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off the stone walls and floor around them.
"Run, Susan!" shouted Harry, just as Susan whirled round, drawing her wand and pointing it behind her, and a flashing red beam flew out of the darkness above, hitting her square in the wrist.
"Arrrgh!"
Susan's wand flew out of her hand and she collapsed.
"Petrificus Totalus!" came a cry from the upper side of the track, and a puff of thin white smoke flew toward Harry, who had no time to dodge. His whole body was paralysed and he fell to the ground with a thud, like a broken mannequin. The protruding tracks slammed into his shoulders and back, causing immense pain, but he was unable to let out a single cry. Above them, in the darkness, a red laser beam shone at the spot where they had fallen, and the sound of shuffling footsteps came closer. Susan gasped and dragged her aching body, desperately reaching for her wand.
"That blonde one must be Susan Bones. . . . Kill her," said Fubster's voice. A flash of green light cut through the air and struck her, who had just picked up her wand. Harry could do nothing but stare helplessly at the dark ceiling, hearing only the sickening thud of Susan's body hitting the floor beside him. Fubster and his two followers were now within earshot, and he rolled Susan's body over with his foot to examine her face before crossing off her name from his list.
"Good, so the Head of Auror office is gone, and — who's that? Point your torch at him."
A pale cylindrical beam of light shone directly into Harry's face. It was blinding enough to make his eyelids flutter, but his paralysed body remained as still as a corpse. He would rather die now, if only he could die without feeling more shame. . . .
"Oh my . . . this on the forehead. . . ." Harry felt a gloved hand brush his wet bangs roughly aside. The light moved to his forehead and there was a moment of stunned silence. "It's Harry Potter!"
"Ha! We've caught the big one. Very impressive, Warren. A promotion is in order," Fubster said, looking down at the fallen Harry, his scarred face contorted with glee. Warren's face, behind thick horn-rimmed glasses, appeared from above, his wand pointed straight at Harry.
"Now I can kill him, can't I, sir?"
Harry felt no emotion at the prospect of death. All he wanted was to end this shame quickly and be with his dead Aurors and friends.
"Avada Keda —"
"Wait," said Fubster. With a click, he drew his pistol and pointed it at Harry's head. "From what I hear, this bastard is extremely difficult to kill. . . . If we're gonna do this right, let's use a gun."
The muzzle of the pistol, gaping like the empty eyes of death, drew closer and Harry felt a cold touch on his forehead, where the lightning scar lay.
It was ironic that a common Muggle murder weapon would do what Voldemort's wand, the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time, had failed to do. As Harry heard Fubster rustle, pull out a list and flick through it, he calmly awaited his death. The cold piece of metal would surely pierce his skull and end his consciousness with this shame. . . . But nothing happened until the muzzle of the gun against his forehead was warmed by his own body heat. Fubster finally tore his gaze from the list and looked back at Harry, an intense red glow blinding him momentarily as his mechanical eye scanned his face.
"Hmm, strange . . . strange indeed."
"What's wrong, Colonel?" asked Buchanan, puzzled.
"No matter how many times I look, his name isn't on the hit list. . . " said Fubster as he flicked through the list in his hand. "But if Harry Potter isn't a wizard who's a threat to our cause, then who the hell is?"
"The idiot who wrote it must have forgotten to put his name." Warren sheathed his wand and drew the rifle from his back, pointing it at Harry. "I'll just take care of him now."
"Wait!" shouted Fubster, pushing the rifle away from Harry's head. "We've got to make sure before doing anything irreversible. . . . Levitate him, we're taking him to Eisenbein."
"Aye, Colonel," said Buchanan. He pointed his wand at Harry and muttered, "Mobilicorpus."
Invisible strings bound Harry and pulled him up, suspending him in mid-air like a marionette. Meanwhile, Fubster scanned the list filled with red lines. "Now we've got rid of all the Aurors and Hit Wizards except for him and Teddy Lupin. I'm sure they've emptied those vaults by now, let's go down."
Harry could do nothing but float in the air and stare at the back of the Fubster's head with his aching eyes. Buchanan chuckled softly and moved his wand so that Harry's wobbly feet caught the train track on the ground. It was a familiar feeling, one that reminded Harry of the time he had been carried to Hogwarts on Voldemort's order to shame his friends. But despite the odds against him, at least he had had the will and the strength to fight then, unlike now. . . .
The procession of three Dawn Breakers and a prisoner continued along the winding tunnels, deeper and deeper underground. Eventually they passed through a passage widened by the dragon and came to the lowest level of the cave, where five large vaults were clustered together. Each vault was wide open, now empty, and there were no more glittering gems or precious metals to be found within.
"Eisenbein, look who we've got," said Fubster. Then the Dawn Breakers, who were moving the last of the treasure chests, stopped what they were doing and crowded around them.
"It's Harry Potter!" someone shouted from the side.
"Is it really him?"
"Yeah, look at that scar!"
"Why didn't you kill him?" a cloaked man grumbled.
"His name wasn't on the hit list," Fubster said, showing him the paper.
"Colonel, read the title of the list in your hand." A harsh voice came from the corner and Eisenbein stepped out of the darkness. The room immediately fell silent, except for the sound of his footsteps.
"Yes, Boss. It says here, The List of Dangerous Witches and Wizards to Be Sacrificed for the Greater Good."
"And now I'm going to tell you why Harry Potter's name is not on that list," said Eisenbein. Now he was facing Harry head-on, and his smoky face shimmered inside his cloak. "Harry Potter before us is no longer a wizard. By the same very powerful curse that made my body what it is, he has become a Muggle, no different from the majority of us."
There was a moment of silence, as heavy as the ceiling made of immense rock that weighed down on them. Then the clearing quickly erupted into an uproar. The Dawn Breakers chattered, pointed fingers and sneered at Harry. Eisenbein raised his wand and flicked it at Harry, and his floating body fell hard on the cold stone floor.
"But, Boss," said Warren, reluctantly stepping forward. "Even if that's true, that's Harry Potter! He's the one who defeated the fearsome Dark Lord when he was just a teenager."
"I agree with Warren," said Fubster. "It would be wise to kill him now, wizard or not."
Eisenbein stared at the fallen Harry for a long moment. Then there was a scurrying sound beside Harry, and a rat rose to its paws and stood in the shadow he cast. The rodent seemed to be one of many that had lost their home to the flames of the dragon and were now wandering about. Harry glanced sideways to see the rat nervously darting its eyes around, clearly frightened. If he considered the poor creature a friend, at least he wouldn't die alone. . . . Eisenbein seemed to have made up his mind and pointed his wand at Harry, which he had been twirling around his silver fingers. Harry stared at the tip of the Elder Wand with numb, insensitive eyes and waited for his death. . . .
"WHAAAVARA KEDABRAH!" shouted Eisenbein.
In contrast to the usual Killing Curse, which flashed eerily bright, the green flash of light shot from the tip of the wand was dull and murky green, perhaps due to the incorrect pronunciation of his incantation. The curse swept past Harry's head and struck the rat beside him. The rat shrieked in agony and fell to the ground, dead. No, it wasn't dead. . . . As Harry blinked, the rat twitched a bit on its front paws, then scrambled back to its feet and scampered away.
"See? That Dark Lord Thingy, who was brought down by young Harry Potter, was overrated in so many ways," said Eisenbein, looking around at his men. "He used the same curse over and over, but he couldn't even spell it right. There's living proof right in front of us!"
The Dawn Breakers erupted into raucous laughter; they pointed at Harry and spat on the ground around him. Although Harry had lived a very troubled life, he had never known such shame.
"I heard you're living with the Dursleys these days, Harry?" said Eisenbein, taking a step closer. "You might learn a thing or two there, for Dudley has in some ways achieved more than the Dark Lord. After all, your cousin did manage to take over a boarding school, didn't he?"
The laughter of the Dawn Breakers grew louder than ever. Some held onto their stomachs and almost fell over laughing too hard. Even Colonel Fubster, who almost always had a stern expression, laughed out loud a few times, his scarred and burnt face contorting in a grotesque manner.
"Eh — heh heh!" Eisenbein chuckled, throwing his arms wide in a mocking way. He seemed to have tried to imitate Voldemort's high and cold voice, which wasn't very successful and sounded only frivolous. Finally, as the laughter had died down and the Dawn Breakers had become calm again, Eisenbein stood by Harry's side and addressed his men.
"Voldemort wasted his whole life trying to kill the Boy Who Lived. He acted on the words of prophecy from an old fraud and lost everything." Eisenbein circled around Harry, locking eyes with each of his men. Small stones and sand crunched under his metal feet. "But don't we have a far nobler ideal than his? We swore to turn all the people of this world into witches and wizards, and to do so by blood if necessary. . . . There is no place for the Boy Who Lived in our plan."
"Then what happens to Harry Potter?" asked Fubster, the scorpion-tail-shaped machine above his head flashing a threatening laser toward Harry.
"We let the Boy Who Lived keep living," said Eisenbein quietly. He loomed over Harry with a smoke-like face, peering down at him. "If we kill their hero here, the magical world will only unite through his sacrifice. But if we let him live as a shadow of his former self without magic, his world will suffocate in false hope and collapse upon itself."
Harry shouted at the smoke-like face filling his vision, "Just kill me! Kill me now!" But his cries echoed only in his head, trapped in his paralysed throat, futilely repeating itself.
"Boss, we have moved all the treasure," a Dawn Breaker said from the corridor leading outside.
"Good, it's time to retreat," said Eisenbein, raising his head from Harry. "Back to the factory, everyone."
Eisenbein's cloak fluttered behind him as he walked away from Harry. The Invisibility Cloak — the rightful inheritance from James Potter, stolen from Harry — now rested on the shoulders of his worst enemy. . . . But there was nothing he could do about it, as there had been since the Fourth Curse had taken everything from him.
For a long time after the Dawn Breakers had left, Harry remained alone in the darkness, with an emptiness in his heart as vast as the empty vaults that seemed impossible to fill.