"You'd better be prepared, Malfoy," said Harry. Through the magical eye he had placed on one of his glasses, he could see the bright blue shapes of hundreds of Dawn Breakers advancing, smashing through the last remaining rubble. "There are a lot of them."

"I'm prepared, Potter. And here's something you'll need."

As Harry turned, Malfoy was standing in front of him with a large black bag open. Harry walked over and checked the contents, which were filled with grenades, mines, and various bombs and guns that looked extremely dangerous at first glance.

"Right, I guess I won't need magic when I have this. . . " Harry grabbed a pistol and put it in his pocket, then wrapped a long string of bombs around his shoulder and picked up an armful of mines.

"You know how to use these, Potter?"

"I saw it in a movie." When Malfoy raised an eyebrow in disbelief, Harry added with a grin. "I'm kidding. The Auror office taught us the basics of Muggle weapons — I still remember what I learned then."

Harry carefully placed the bombs, which looked like a green lunchbox with two V-shaped legs turned upside down, on the doorstep and slipped the switch into his pocket. It was a type of mine called a claymore, which Harry knew was very useful for stopping pursuing enemies. He then taped the bombs, which had a thin antenna on one side like a walkie-talkie, to the various posts in the space between them and the entrance. Meanwhile, Malfoy was making his own preparations, pulling out a shriveled-up arm he had used in the Wizarding Factory before, and tucking a candle into the hand at its end.

"When I use Instant Dark Powder," Malfoy said as he pulled out a small vial of black powder, "we'll use this Hand of Glory. When you light it, only those holding it will be able to see it . . . "

As they finally retreated, ready to defend, Harry checked the time and saw that they had three minutes and thirty seconds left. The pounding of the rubble blocking the entrance grew louder and louder until it finally gave way, removing all obstruction. Through the gaping passageway came men in black, guns in hand. Harry ducked behind the nearest pillar and, as the footsteps grew louder, flicked the switch to activate the mine. With a sharp metallic sound, tiny pellets flew toward the other side of the wall and his enemies, and a terrible scream echoed off the concrete wall.

Harry counted three seconds in his head, then aimed his pistol and fired at a figure that jumped out from behind a pillar and into the smoke. Two of the Dawn Breakers fell to the ground, panting. Suddenly, a flash of green light came from behind the smoke and a Killing Curse flew at Harry. He ducked quickly as Malfoy appeared from behind another pillar and shot a Stunning Spell at two of the approaching Dawn Breakers, knocking them down. Harry pressed his magical eye to his glasses and as he did, he saw more enemies stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades and continuing to advance.

"Malfoy, let's fall back to the nearest pillar!"

"Protego!"

Malfoy cast a protective charm between them and the foes, then darted at full speed behind a pillar further back, and Harry did the same. Bullets hit the ground behind their feet, sending shards of stone flying at their exposed ankles, making them gasp. Harry braced his back against a hard stone column and glanced at his watch; incredibly, he had two and a half minutes left. He raised his arm and fired a few more shots from his pistol, but the Dawn Breakers continued to pour in, seemingly unconcerned about being killed or wounded. A small tin-like object rolled across the ground, belching smoke, and soon the place was a blur, unrecognizable in all directions.

"Potter, I'm gonna use the powder!" came Malfoy's voice over the gunfire.

"Not yet!" shouted Harry, sticking his head out of the pillar and waving his arms to clear the smoke.

A red laser pointer flickered in the gray fog spewing from the smoke bombs, and a bullet whizzed past his cheek. Harry crouched down again, pressing his fingers to the hot, searing wound that drew a vivid streak of blood. He checked his watch and saw that he had two minutes before his friends and the seventh years left.

Harry pulled out the switch and clicked the red button; the two pillars in front of him shattered with a bang, causing the ceiling to collapse with a thud. He stuck his head out again, but to his disappointment, the debris from above did not form an obstacle as it had before, but floated in the air, held back by some unseen force. Dark wizards stood among the soldiers, wands raised to use spells. In vain, Harry fired the remaining bullets from his pistol at them, but they were deflected by their protective charms. He ducked behind a pillar to avoid the projectiles coming at him. Now he really couldn't think of anything else to do to buy time.

"Now, Malfoy! Use the powder!" Harry looked to his left and nodded to Malfoy, who nodded once through the clearing smoke and tossed a glass vial of black powder to the floor. The effect was instantaneous: The smell of gunpowder wafted through the air, and at the same time a solid, thick darkness, almost tangible, quickly spread and filled the room.

"Somebody turn on the lights!"

"It won't turn on!"

Harry could hear the Dawn Breakers shouting in confusion. He ran to a pillar off to the side, arms outstretched in the direction he'd been looking, and soon found himself touched by Malfoy's arm.

"Here, take this!"

Malfoy allowed Harry to take the Hand of Glory he was holding, and Harry felt a blurry, mushy, unpleasant sensation, and then, to his surprise, the light of the candle in the corpse's hand grew before his eyes. It wasn't a very powerful light, but in the pitch black it felt as bright as the sun. Malfoy turned the Hand of Glory toward their enemies, relying on the light from it to cast a few more Stunning Spells. With a thud, more fell, and the Dawn Breakers tensed, firing curses and bullets into the darkness in vain.

As they retreated in fear, Harry followed Malfoy's lead and slowly moved away from the pillar, approaching the wall opposite the entrance. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Dawn Breakers approaching, arms flailing in the air. Malfoy raised his wand and Stunned two more, and by the light of the candle, they had about thirty seconds left. An occasional Killing Curse flew through the air, but it wasn't much of a threat. Twenty seconds . . . fiften seconds . . . ten seconds. . . .

Meanwhile, they crept up to the iron gate behind which the rest of Dumbledore's Army and the seventh years would be, and crouched in front of it. Three seconds . . . two seconds . . . one seconds. . . . Harry put his ear to the door and heard the sound of a strong whirlwind.

"Okay, I think they're gone," whispered Malfoy, then pointed his wand at the door and muttered, "Alohomora. Now get in!"

Harry pushed the door open and stepped into the shooting range, followed by Malfoy. Only after closing the door very carefully was Harry, who had been holding his breath, able to take a gulp of air into his lungs. In that split second, the Darkness Powder from the outside air must have seeped into the empty chamber — now that everyone had left, the place was as dark as if shrouded in a black fog. Malfoy held his breath and pressed his wand to the seam of the iron gate, applying heat until it turned red and welded tightly. It would buy them a few more moments before the Dawn Breakers realized what was happening.

"You're a mess, Potter," Malfoy said, looking back at Harry when he was done. Harry wiped the ash and blood from his face with his sleeve. The wound stung where the bullet had just grazed him, but he felt strangely amused. Malfoy seemed to feel the same, and in the dim light he smiled and flicked his wand at the kettle set aside.

"Now, put our fingers on it at the same time and we're done," said Harry.

"We got out of this a lot easier than I thought," said Malfoy ruefully, looking down at the copper Portkey. "I'm afraid I caused too much of a scene back there. . . . I'll be ashamed to go back to your friends like this."

"We're just lucky. Now let's take a last look at the scene and touch the Portkey."

Harry pressed his magical eye to his glasses and surveyed the underground room they had just been in. The effects of the Darkness Powder seemed to have worn off a bit, and now the Dawn Breakers were no longer groping in vain, but standing upright, peering behind pillars, searching for Harry and Malfoy. If they left now, there would be no trouble. Harry looked back at Malfoy to say this, and saw a strange sight through his magical eye: in one corner of the shooting range they were on, there was a pile of unused targets, and behind them, a small hidden room in which a number of human-shaped figures were cowering.

"There's someone in there. . . . Malfoy, get those things out of the way."

Malfoy flicked his wand to move the pile of targets aside, revealing a rusty iron door that he could barely squeeze through without bending over. He flicked his wand again and the door creaked open and slid forward. Harry pulled his phone from his pocket and turned on the flashlight, shining it inside to reveal dozens of children, their thin arms shielding them from the sudden flood of light. They were all dressed in rags, and their bloodshot eyes glowed in the darkness, reflecting the light from the phone.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" said Harry in as calm a tone as he could muster, trying to calm his startled mind. Several of the children began to babble, but Harry couldn't make out a word. Malfoy was at a loss as well.

Suddenly, Harry remembered that the Dawn Breakers had been kidnapping young Muggle-born wizards from orphanages in Eastern Europe and elsewhere, something he had learned during his trip to Bulgaria to track down Eisenbein last year. After relaying the information to Malfoy, Harry used his smartphone to translate what he had just said into Bulgarian, and the confused children began to speak again all at once, this time in rapid bursts of words. Harry chose one of them and had him speak into his phone, which then spoke the translated English sentences aloud in a stiff voice.

"We've been here for over a year, bled and experimented on. They moved us to this room yesterday, please save us."

Just then, someone from outside banged on the iron gate leading to the firing range and tried to open it. Harry quickly turned his magical eye in that direction and saw the Dawn Breakers banging on the welded door.

"They're behind here! Get the bomb!"

"What are we gonna do, Malfoy?" said Harry in a panic. "We can't just leave them here."

"Of course not. There's no one else to look after them," Malfoy said, rushing off to get a pot. The note attached to it said that the Portkey would be leaving in seven minutes. "Tell the children to hold on to this — I'll enchant the other door out there. I learned a very useful spell from the Death Eaters decades ago — it needs to be cast on an unobstructed entrance, so I'll have to unseal it first."

Malfoy rushed over to the iron gate, melted down the welds, and began chanting an intricate incantation that sent colorful sparks flying over the top. Meanwhile, Harry used a translator app on his smartphone and hand gestures to get all thirty or so kids to place their fingers on the pot. He showed them his watch, told them they had seven minutes to hide in here before they could leave, and closed the gate tightly behind him, leaving them with anxious faces. That's when he heard the sound of a man outside stumbling and groaning in pain. It sounded as if someone outside had tried to go through the door and had been thrown into the air.

"How much longer do you think the spell can hold?" asked Harry worriedly.

"Three minutes at the most. Less than that if they cast powerful curses," said Malfoy. "I'd like to use the same spell on the small room where we hid the children, but I can't use it on two places at once. . . ."

"What do we do now? Leave the kids behind and let them follow us when their Portkey activates?" On the floor behind Harry, the copper Portkey glowed faintly, as if tempting them.

"They'll try that door first if we're not there when they come in. . . . We'll need someone to stay behind and buy them time, just like before," said Malfoy firmly, then fixed his determined gaze on Harry. "You go, Potter. There's nothing you can do now that you don't have a gun or a bomb."

There was an awkward silence in the firing range for a moment as the only barrier between them, the iron gates, echoed with the crackle of shots fired at the defenses, amplified by the concrete walls. Another ominous sound followed, like a hard shell slowly cracking.

"Be honest with me, Potter. You have no intention of getting out of here alive, do you?" asked Malfoy. "I saw your face earlier when you were about to be executed. You had a look on your face that seemed to welcome death. There's no Eisenbein here, no one to stop them if they want to kill you like before."

Harry turned to face Malfoy, who was staring at him with gray eyes. Considering Malfoy's skill in Legilimency, it seemed pointless to hide his true feelings anyway.

"That's right, Malfoy. I intend to die here," Harry blurted out. "Eisenbein isn't sparing my life because he cares about me. He told me before that he meant to keep me alive so I could become a symbol of false hope and bring down our world with me."

"Is that why you want to die?" drawled Malfoy, his voice cold with sarcasm. "Do you think that if you really died, it would awaken the rest of us and make us fight harder?"

"People fought Voldemort to the death a long time ago, even when they thought I was dead," Harry said quietly. "Look at Neville. He bravely destroyed the last Horcrux, Nagini, while wearing a burning hat. The death of a hero will unite the people of our world and give us the strength to face Eisenbein."

"You want to be a hero all by yourself," Malfoy muttered bitterly, then sighed. "You know, it's a dream I gave up a long time ago . . . but I wanted to be a hero too, especially in my sixth year."

"Really?"

"Yes. In a very ugly way, of course, looking back on it now," Malfoy muttered, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "I thought that if I killed Dumbledore, if I killed the most powerful wizard that even the Dark Lord feared, I would be a hero remembered forever among purebloods of my kind."

A loud explosion sounded outside, shaking the walls and ceiling and causing some fluorescent lights to flicker and go out. As the room darkened, a shadow fell across Malfoy's pale face.

"Malfoy's in there! Get through!" Robby Leach's scream came through the blasts. "Use the Killing Curse, there must be a way!"

"Listen, Leach won't let you die in peace," said Harry darkly. "Stop being so stubborn and go now. I can hold them myself."

"Leach's grudge isn't unfounded. The sins my family has committed for generations have finally come back to haunt me," said Malfoy. "You see, back then, my family believed that people who weren't purebloods deserved to die. My father tortured and killed Muggles and Muggle-borns for fun, and I shared that attitude in my sixth year. I thought Dumbledore, the protector of filthy Muggles, deserved to die."

"But you didn't carry it out," said Harry. "I was there in the Astronomy Tower — you wouldn't have killed Dumbledore, even when he was completely helpless."

"That's right, Potter. I didn't realize how precious life is until it was time to kill someone, until it was time to take it. . . . It was so foolish of me — I learned too late what you've known since you were a very small boy."

Malfoy laughed mirthlessly. Outside, the hiss of Killing Curses cut through the air as they were fired at the door, but Harry was so focused on Malfoy's words that he barely heard them.

"Don't blame yourself, Malfoy," said Harry quietly, finally breaking the silence. "You were just brought up in the wrong environment, that's all."

"Don't forget, Potter, I went to the same school as you. . . I can't blame the environment either." Malfoy smiled wryly, then stared thoughtfully at the iron gates that would soon collapse with a thud. "You know, I know how much you treasure your time at Hogwarts. But I hated my time at that ruddy castle. I was always lonely because I didn't have any real friends, unlike you, and I thought I was wasting my time without learning anything. . . . But I did learn one thing there." Harry waited patiently for Malfoy to continue. When he felt the silence was too long, he turned to see Malfoy smiling sadly at him, his wand pointed in Harry's direction. "And I learned that from you, Harry. . . . Accio Portkey!"

"Draco, no!" Harry whirled around to see the copper kettle on the floor flying toward him. Harry tried to dodge, but it was too late. . . .

The kettle hit him in the middle of his back and Harry instantly felt his stomach pull forward. The dim underground room and Malfoy's pale face disappeared before his eyes, and soon he was hurtling upward and forward as the wind howled in his ears and a myriad of colors swirled around him. He could feel the kettle clinging to his back like a magnet, pushing him forward at a rapid pace, and the cool wind, coupled with the cold touch of the copper, ruffled his hair and brought tears to his eyes. Finally, it all came to an abrupt end and his feet hit the fluffy grass.

Harry looked around at the completely different landscape around him. In front of him was a blue lake, not very deep, with reeds sticking out of the water, and the eastern sky, now bursting with dawn, had turned orange where the darkness had receded. Maybe it was because he'd escaped from the dark, ashen concrete of the underground facility, but nature seemed unusually fresh, full of green trees, grass, and blue lakes. But Harry felt no relief as he nervously looked around at the tall trees, searching for any sign of help. There was not a soul in sight.

In desperation, Harry grabbed the copper kettle that had fallen to the ground beside him, but the used Portkey showed no effect at all. After three more minutes, which seemed like an eternity, the pot suddenly fell from the sky with a heavy thud next to the kettle, and thirty orphans from Eastern Europe, each with a finger on the pot, stood up one by one, shaken by the strong wind, and laughed merrily as if their journey had been a fun ride. Harry quickly checked to see if there was a man with a pointed chin and gray eyes among them, but all of them were children.

After getting them to sit still, he held on to a thin thread of hope and waited and waited until the sun fully appeared and bathed the surface of the lake in its golden glow. But Draco never came.