"That was…"
The green light lingered in Dudley's eyes. He sensed Griphook's life force vanish instantly, as if snuffed out like a candle.
"A spell that kills outright!" Dudley realized, his mind racing.
In the distant darkness, as the green light flared, he glimpsed a figure cloaked entirely in black, clutching a slender wand.
"Get down!" Hagrid roared, reacting a split second later. His massive frame stepped back, shielding Harry and Dudley behind him.
"That green light…" Harry stood frozen, his green eyes wide, pupils dilated as if lost in another world. The light consumed his vision, a haunting echo from his nightmares. He'd seen it countless times in his sleep, never understanding its meaning. Now he did.
It was a spell that killed instantly—the same green light Voldemort had unleashed when he murdered Harry's family.
Bang! A red light shot out, striking Hagrid. Just before it hit, he brandished his tattered pink umbrella, conjuring a faint translucent barrier that softened the spell's impact.
"Argh!" Hagrid cried out, his enormous body hurled backward, crashing to the ground. He lay motionless, incapacitated.
"Damn it!" Dudley had hoped Hagrid could hold his own, but the cloaked figure had taken him down with a single spell.
"Run… run…" Hagrid gasped, his voice barely a whisper.
"Go!" Dudley grabbed Harry, still dazed, and yanked him behind a nearby stalagmite.
Whoosh! A dark red light blasted the stalagmite, shattering a chunk of it. The explosion dislodged stalactites from the ceiling, which plummeted with a deafening crash.
Dudley's quick reflexes pulled Harry out of harm's way just in time.
"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived," a low, hoarse voice rasped, unnatural and laced with magic, as if conjured rather than spoken.
Harry's body stiffened. The voice was unfamiliar, yet it dragged him back to that nightmarish green light, the moment his world had shattered.
"Is that… You-Know-Who?" Dudley's expression darkened.
Damn it, I just came to withdraw money. How did I run into Voldemort? Isn't he supposed to be dead? His mind reeled. Was this a trap? Had the Dark Lord known Harry would be at Gringotts today? Or was Vault 713 his true target, with Harry's presence a mere coincidence?
Divination, maybe? Dudley's thoughts churned, grappling with the absurdity of their situation. The cloaked figure's power was undeniable, whether it was Voldemort or not.
"You run," Harry said, snapping out of his daze. He took a deep breath, his voice steady despite his fear. "His target's me. I can buy you some time."
This wizard had come for him. Why drag Dudley into it? His cousin didn't deserve to die here—he was innocent. If one of them could escape, it should be Dudley.
"You think he'll let me go?" Dudley replied, his tone grim.
"Aren't you going to come out?" the hoarse voice taunted, closer now, its evil aura intensifying.
The alarm had sounded when the fight began, but Gringotts' underground was a sprawling maze. Reinforcements would take time to arrive.
They're too slow, Dudley thought, frustration boiling. They call this the safest place in the wizarding world? I warned them, and still no one's here!
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath. He dragged his hand across a sharp rock, slicing his palm. Blood welled up, and he reached into his jacket, grasping Trensorst's Brass Book. The blood seeped into the intricate carvings, which glowed faintly.
Sealed Artifact 002 activated.
"No one from Gringotts can save you," the voice sneered. "Petrificus Totalus!"
A terrifying force erupted, obliterating the stalagmite where Dudley and Harry hid.
"Agh!" Harry screamed, blasted backward by the spell's impact. He slammed into a wall and crumpled to the ground, struggling to lift his head.
Dudley was thrown back as well. Hagrid lay silent, his fate uncertain. The underground vault felt desolate, with only Harry left to face the threat.
Mom, Dad, I'm coming to join you, Harry thought, despair creeping in. His magical journey hadn't even begun, yet it was ending here. He'd finally found hope—a new life at Hogwarts, a cousin who no longer tormented him, a future bright with possibility. But now, fate had played a cruel trick. Whether this was Voldemort or a fanatical follower, Harry had no escape.
The cloaked figure leaped, transforming into a bat and soaring toward Harry, as if eager to study the Boy Who Lived before ending him.
Buzz! An overwhelming aura surged through the vault, a majestic presence beyond nature, towering over all life.
"No flying here," a commanding voice declared.
The cloaked figure, hovering four meters above, plummeted with a thud, as if bound by an invisible rule that stripped away his ability to fly.
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