"This is… the Fiendfyre Curse?"
"An Instantaneous Fiendfyre Curse?"
Bill and Charlie looked at their father at the same time.
Mr. Weasley smacked his lips and nodded with some difficulty.
Even though he could hardly believe it himself, the flames in front of them that kept leaping and twisting as if alive were unquestionably Fiendfyre.
And it was a very advanced Fiendfyre Curse at that, to melt the earthen wall barrier the Death Eaters had set up in an instant.
"Do we… go in and help?" Charlie asked tentatively.
The wall of earth was gone, but what blocked their way now was even more terrifying.
Whether intentional or not, part of the Fiendfyre had been left behind around the wall of earth, looking like a huge ring of fire; to enter the tower, they would have to squeeze through the fire ring.
Mr. Weasley hesitated for a moment, then chose to stay where they were.
"Forget it," he said. "Dumbledore told us to make as much of a racket as possible, but things have gone completely beyond what we expected. We'd better go deal with the other Death Eaters in the castle."
"But there are a lot of Death Eaters in the tower, and Kael, he…"
"Hey, Charlie, you don't think Kael is Little Ron, do you, that he needs us to protect him?" Bill raised his eyebrows.
"All right!" Charlie gave two dry laughs. "Though it's not very nice to Ron to say so, that's pretty much the truth."
As they were talking, a black shadow suddenly shot through the middle with a whoosh, and in the blink of an eye passed through the "ring of fire," disappearing onto the spiral staircase beyond.
"What just went through?" Bill rubbed his eyes and asked.
"Looked like… a leopard," Charlie answered, a little unsure. It had moved too fast; he hadn't seen clearly.
"How could there be a leopard at Hogwarts!"
"How should I know, maybe it ran out of the Forbidden Forest. Why don't you go in and take a look?"
"Mm… I think Kael and Professor Dumbledore should be able to handle a leopard, even if its color happens to be black."
…
On the other side, Kael headed straight up toward the top of the tower, and once he reached this level, the voices above became very clear.
"Dumbledore's been driven into a corner, and he's dropped his Wand. Nicely done, Draco, you're even better than we thought," a hoarse voice said.
"Now's the perfect chance. Dumbledore's all alone, we've got him surrounded. Hurry up and kill him, Draco," another person urged.
Surrounding Dumbledore?
Kael almost burst out laughing. He quickened his pace again, itching to see just how stupid someone had to be to come up with such an ice-cold joke.
If sheer numbers could make up for a gap in strength, Voldemort would have been beaten to a pulp long ago.
"Good evening, Gibbon," came Dumbledore's voice. His tone was utterly calm, as if inviting the man to afternoon tea.
"If you're in such a hurry, why don't you come yourself? I'm right here—no need to make things difficult for a child."
"No, we've got our orders: Draco has to do it," a dull voice said. "All right, Draco, get on with it. Think of Lucius and Cissy—they're waiting to hear your good news."
The threat implied in that last sentence was obvious.
"Look at you, Dumbledore, you can't even hold your Wand steady," the hoarse voice spoke again. "I really don't understand why the Dark Lord bothers about you so much."
"Ah, I'm short of stamina, slow to react," Dumbledore said, with a trace of helplessness in his voice. "I'm over a hundred years old; age has caught up with me. But one day… you'll end up like this too, Gibbon… if you're lucky…"
"What's that supposed to mean? What's that supposed to mean?" The Death Eater's voice turned shrill. "Hurry up, Draco, kill him!"
"Relax, don't panic. Give the youngster a little encouragement," a lazy voice drawled. "Oh, right—any of you seen Fenrir?"
"He's probably going berserk somewhere in the school, that brainless beast," another Death Eater said with a note of disgust.
"Fenrir Greyback?" There was a new weight in Dumbledore's voice.
"Yeah, a Werewolf—one who likes biting children," the same lazy voice said. "Want to take a guess how many students will be Werewolves after tonight?"
"What a pity, Oren, the moon's not particularly full tonight."
"Sorry, I forgot," Oren said. "But Dumbledore, Greyback is far more vicious than you think. He doesn't care whether it's a full moon or not."
"It's all right. I trust the teachers at the school… just as I once trusted you."
"I'm flattered," Oren said.
"All right, enough reminiscing!" a woman shrilled. "Do it, Draco, or get out of the way!"
Kael didn't hear Malfoy speak, and likewise he noticed that no one had mentioned Harry.
He clearly remembered Harry's name having been on the Marauder's Map just now; as the Savior and Voldemort's nemesis, the Death Eaters had no reason to ignore him.
But it didn't really matter.
By this time, Kael had reached the top of the tower and pushed open the half-closed door in front of him.
Dumbledore was leaning against a wall; opposite him was Draco Malfoy, trembling all over, and the segmented Wand lay on the floor not far from the two of them.
Dumbledore had been disarmed?
Kael's mouth twitched; he honestly thought Dumbledore's acting was a bit over the top. The man wasn't injured at all right now—how could a student possibly disarm him… and yet these people had all bought it.
At the same time, the sound of the door opening instantly drew everyone's attention; they all looked over on reflex.
When he saw that it was Kael who had come in, Dumbledore's eyes flew wide open in disbelief.
And—whether it was his imagination or not—Kael saw in his expression three parts annoyance and seven parts sheer panic.
The Death Eaters on the other hand were so delighted they almost shouted aloud.
"You!" The Witch in the crowd glared at him with searing hatred. "We were just wondering how to find you, and here you are, walking right in uninvited."
"That's right, here I am," Kael said. "And then?"
"Give him to me, I'll kill him myself! No, I'm going to use the Crucio Curse and torture him good and hard!"
"No, he should be mine," said Antonin Dolohov.
The two of them glared at each other, neither willing to give way.
…