199[@more@]They were truly trapped now: There was no way out except through the door, and a horde of goblins seemed to be approaching on the other side. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione and saw terror in their faces.
“Hermione,” said Harry, as the clanking grew louder, “I’ve got to get up there, we’ve got to get rid of it –”
She raised her wand, pointed it at Harry, and whispered, “Levicorpus.”
Hoisted into the air by his ankle, Harry hit a suit of armor and replicas burst out of it like white-hot bodies, filling the cramped space. With screams of pain, Ron, Hermione, and the two goblins were knocked aside into other objects, which also began to replicate. Half buried in a rising tide of red-hot treasure, they struggled and yelled has Harry thrust the sword through the handle of Hufflepuff’s cup, hooking it onto the blade. “Impervius!” screeched Hermione in an attempt to protect herself, Ron, and the goblins from the burning metal.
Then the worst scream yet made Harry look down: Ron and Hermione were waist deep in treasure, struggling to keep Bogrod from slipping beneath the rising tide, but Griphook had sunk out of sight; and nothing but the tips of a few long fingers were left in view.
Harry seized Griphook’s fingers and pulled. The blistered goblin emerged by degrees, howling.
“Liberatocorpus!” yelled Harry, and with a crash he and Griphook landed on the surface of the swelling treasure, and the sword flew out of Harry’s hand.
“Get it!” Harry yelled, fighting the pain of the hot metal on his skin, as Griphook clambered onto his shoulders again, determined to avoid the swelling mass of red-hot objects. “Where’s the sword? It had the cup on it!”
The clanking on the other side of the door was growing deafening – it was too late –
“There!”
It was Griphook who had seen it and Griphook who lunged, and in that instant Harry knew that the goblin had never expected them to keep their word. One hand holding tightly to a fistful of Harry’s hair, to make sure he did not fall into the heaving sea of burning gold, Griphook seized the hilt of the sword and swung it high out of Harry’s reach. The tiny golden cup, skewered by the handle on the sword’s blade was flung into the air. The goblin astride him, Harry dived and caught it, and although he could feel it scalding his flesh he did not relinquish it, even while countless Hufflepuff cups burst from his fist, raining down upon him as the entrance of the vault opened up again and he found himself sliding uncontrollably on an expanding avalanche of fiery gold and silver that bore him, Ron, Hermione into the outer chamber.
Hardly aware of the pain from the burns covering his body, and still borne along the swell of replicating treasure, Harry shoved the cup into his pocket and reached up to retrieve the sword, but Griphook was gone. Sliding from Harry’s shoulders the moment he could, he had sprinted for cover amongst the surrounding goblins, brandishing the sword and crying, “Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!” He vanished into the midst of the advancing crowd, all of whom were holding daggers and who accepted him without question.
Slipping on the hot metal, Harry struggled to his feet and knew that the only way out was through.
“Stupefy!” he bellowed, and Ron and Hermione joined in: Jets of red light flew into the crowd of goblins, and some toppled over, but others advanced, and Harry saw several wizard guards running around the corner.
The tethered dragon let out a roar, and a gush of flame flew over the goblins; The wizards fled, doubled-up, back the way they had come, and inspiration, or madness, came to Harry. Pointing his wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor, he yelled, “Relashio!”
The cuffs broken open with loud bangs.
“This way!” Harry yelled, and still shooting Stunning Spells at the advancing goblins, he sprinted toward the blind dragon.
“Harry – Harry – what are you doing?” cried Hermione.
“Get up, climb up, come on –”
The dragon had not realized that it was free: Harry’s foot found the crook of its hind leg and he pulled himself up onto its back. The scales were hard as steel; it did not even seem to feel him. He stretched out an arm; Hermione hoisted herself up; Ron climbed on behind them, and a second later the dragon became aware that it was untethered.
With a roar it reared: Harry dug in his knees, clutching as tightly as he could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the shrieking goblins aside like skittles, and it soared into the air. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, flat on its back, scraped against the ceiling as it dived toward the passage opening, while the pursuing goblins hurled daggers that glanced off its flanks.
“We’ll never get out, it’s too big!” Hermione screamed, but the dragon opened its mouth and belched flame again, blasting the tunnel, whose floors and ceiling cracked and crumbled. By sheer force, the dragon clawed and fought its way through. Harry’s eyes were shut tight against the heat and dust: Deafened by the crash of rock and the dragon’s roars, he could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment; then he heard Hermione yelling, “Defodio!”
She was helping the dragon enlarge the passageway, carving out the ceiling as it struggled upward toward the fresher air, away from the shrieking and clanking goblins: Harry and Ron copied her, blasting the ceiling apart with more gouging spells. They passed the underground lake, and the great crawling, snarling beast seemed to sense freedom and space ahead of it, and behind them the passage was full of the dragon’s thrashing, spiked tail, of great lumps of rock, gigantic fractured stalactites, and the clanking of the goblins seemed to be growing more muffled, while ahead, the dragon’s fire kept their progress clear –
And then at last, by the combined force of their spells and the dragon’s brute strength, they had blasted their way out of the passage into the marble hallway. Goblins and wizards shrieked and ran for cover, and finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings: Turning its horned head toward the cool outside air it could smell beyond the entrance, it took off, and with Harry, Ron, and Hermione still clinging to its back, it forced its way through the metal doors, leaving them buckled and hanging from their hinges, as it staggered into Diagon Alley and launched itself into the sky. Chapter Twenty-Seven
The Final Hiding Place
There was no means of steering; the dragon could not see where it was
going, and Harry knew that if it turned sharply or rolled in midair they
would find it impossible to cling onto its broad back. Nevertheless, as they climbed higher and higher, London unfurling below them like a gray-and-green map, Harry's overwhelming feeling was of gratitude for an escape that had
seemed impossible. Crouching low over the beast's neck, he clung tight to
the metallic scales, and the cool breeze was soothing on his burned and
blistered skin, the dragon's wings beating the air like the sails of a
windmill. Behind him, whether from delight or fear he could not tell. Ron
kept swearing at the top of his voice, and Hermione seemed to be sobbing.
After five minutes or so, Harry lost some of his immediate dread that
the dragon was going to throw them off, for it seemed intent on nothing but getting as far away from its underground prison as possible; but the
question of how and when they were to dismount remained rather frightening. He had no idea how long dragons could fly without landing, nor how this
particular dragon, which could barely see, would locate a good place to put down. He glanced around constantly, imagining that he could feel his seat
prickling.
How long would it be before Voldemort knew that they had broken into the
Lestranges' vault? How soon would the goblins of Gringotts notify Bellatrix? How quickly would they realize what had been taken? And then, when they
discovered that the golden cup was missing? Voldemort would know, at last,
that they were hunting Horcruxes.
The dragon seemed to crave cooler and fresher air. It climbed steadily
until they were flying through wisps of chilly cloud, and Harry could no
longer make out the little colored dots which were cars pouring in and out
of the capital. On and on they flew, over countryside parceled out in
patches of green and brown, over roads and rivers winding through the
landscape like strips of matte and glossy ribbon.
"What do you reckon it's looking for?" Ron yelled as they flew farther
and farther north.
"No idea," Harry bellow back. His hands were numb with cold but he did
not date attempt to shift his grip. He had been wondering for some time what they would do if they saw the coast sail beneath them, if the dragon headed for open seal he was cold and numb, not to mention desperately hungry and
thirsty. When, he wondered, had the beast itself last eaten? Surely it would need sustenance before long? And what if, at that point, it realized it had three highly edible humans sitting on its back?
The sun slipped lower in the sky, which was turning indigo; and still
the dragon flew, cities and towns gliding out of sight beneath them, its
enormous shadow sliding over the earth like a giant dark cloud. Every part
of Harry ached with the effort of holding on to the dragon's back.
"Is it my imagination," shouted Ron after a considerable stretch of
silence, "or are we losing height?"
Harry looked down and saw deep green mountains and lakes, coppery in the
sunset. the landscape seemed to grow larger and more detailed as he squinted over the side of the dragon, and he wondered whether it had divined the
presence of fresh water by the flashes of reflected sunlight.
Lower and lower the dragon flew, in great spiraling circles, honing in,
it seemed, upon one of the smaller lakes.
"I say we jump when it gets low enough!" Harry called back to the
others. "Straight into the water before it realizes we're here!"
They agreed, Hermione a little faintly, and now Harry could see the
dragon's wide yellow underbelly rippling in the surface of the water.
"NOW!"
He slithered over the side of the dragon and plummeted feetfirst toward
the surface of the lake; the drop was greater than he had estimated and he
hit the water hard, plunging like a stone into a freezing, green,
reed-filled world. He kicked toward the surface and emerged, panting, to see enormous ripples emanating in circles from the places where Ron and Hermione had fallen. The dragon did not seem to have noticed anything; it was already fifty feet away, swooping low over the lake to scoop up water in its scarred snout. As Ron and Hermione emerged, spluttering and gasping, from the depths of the lake, the dragon flew on, its wings beating hard, and landed at last on a distant bank.
Harry, Ron and Hermione struck out for the opposite shore. The lake did
not seem to be deep. Soon it was more a question of fighting their way
through reeds and mud than swimming, and at last they flopped, sodden,
panting, and exhausted, onto slippery grass.
Hermione collapsed, coughing and shuddering. Though Harry could have
happily lain down and slept, he staggered to his feet, drew out his wand,
and started casting the usual protective spells around them.
When he had finished, he joined the others. It was the first time that
he had seen them properly since escaping from the vault. Both had angry red burns all over their faces and arms, and their clothing was singed away in
places. They were wincing as they dabbed essence of dittany onto their many injuries. Hermione handed Harry the bottle, then pulled out three bottles of pumpkin juice she had brought from Shell Cottage and clean, dry robes for
all of them. They changes and then gulped down the juice.
"Well, on the upside," said Ron finally, who was sitting watching the
skin on his hands regrow, "we got the Horcrux. On the downside-"
"-- no sword," said Harry through gritted teeth, as he dripped dittany
through the singed hole in his jeans onto the angry burn beneath.
"No sword," repeated Ron. "That double-crossing little scab..."
Harry pulled the Horcrux from the pocket of the wet jacket he had just
taken off and set it down on the grass in front of them. Glinting in the
sun, it drew their eyes as they swigged their bottles of juice.
"At least we can't wear it this time, that'd look a bit weird hanging
around our necks," said Ron, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Hermione looked across the lake to the far bank where the dragon was
still drinking.
"What'll happen to it, do you think?" she asked, "Will it be alright?"
"You sound like Hagrid," said Ron, "It's a dragon, Hermione, it can look
after itself. It's us we need to worry about."
"What do you mean?"
"Well I don't know how to break this to you," said Ron, "but I think
they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts."
All three of them started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult
to stop. Harry's ribs ached, he felt lightheaded with hunger, but he lay
back on the grass beneath the reddening sky and laughed until his throat was raw.
"What are we going to do, though?" said Hermione finally, hiccuping
herself back to seriousness. "He'll know, won't he? You-Know-Who will know
we know about his Horcruxes!"
"Maybe they'll be too scared to tell him!" said Ron hopefully, "Maybe
they'll cover up --"
The sky, the smell of the lake water, the sound of Ron's voice were
extinguished. Pain cleaved Harry's head like a sword stroke. He was standing in a dimly lit room, and a semicircle of wizards faced him, and on the floor