Of course, Marvolio never heard the Aurors complaining about him. This was his first attempt at imitating Tver's Protego Diabolica, and if he had not been so skilled with Fiendfyre, the flames would have gone out of control long ago.
Even so, despite focusing with all his might on controlling the fire dragon, the stray flames still destroyed quite a few buildings on the island.
But it was not without its benefits. The heat from Fiendfyre alone was enough to make it impossible for the Dementors to continue surrounding Azkaban.
By sheer accident, Marvolio had torn open a gap in the encirclement.
Boom!
Faced with the surging flames, the Death Eaters refused to wait meekly for death. Spells flew at the fire dragon as though they cost nothing.
Naturally, Marvolio's stolen version of Protego Diabolica lacked the true spell's defensive power. At once, the fragile control he had barely been maintaining shattered.
After swallowing dozens of spells, the dragon exploded.
With a blast like a howl, the flames burst into huge fireballs that shot wildly in every direction.
Even Marvolio himself took one by surprise and nearly got swallowed by his own magic.
Fortunately, the fire dragon had originally been aimed toward the Death Eaters. So even after it blew apart, most of the fireballs still hurtled toward them.
And that was very bad news for the Death Eaters.
In their eagerness to earn merit before the Dark Lord, they had just charged headlong toward Marvolio in a great swarm.
Now, faced with the fireballs crashing toward them, their momentum faltered. But packed shoulder to shoulder, they had no room to turn around.
It was not just the Death Eaters. Even Marvolio and the men under him stood there staring dumbfounded as the fireballs slammed into the tightly packed crowd like artillery shells.
Then the flames exploded, devouring every living thing they touched.
The booming blasts and the crackle of burning fire could not drown out the Death Eaters' shrill screams.
The whole place looked like a chessboard, with fireballs falling like pieces. Every piece that landed not only took several wizards' lives with ease, but linked together with the others to erupt into sweeping seas of flame.
At the sight of that, the Ministry wizards' faces, which had only just regained a little color, turned deathly pale again.
"That's Fiendfyre, isn't it?" Williamson muttered.
"No. Fiendfyre doesn't have this kind of power. Only extremely advanced Gubraithian Fire could produce an effect like this!" Marvolio denied at once.
Of course, that was not entirely wrong.
The fire raging madly before them really was Fiendfyre. But ordinary Fiendfyre did not have this kind of power, nor that bizarrely precise clinging quality.
He had only added a protective Shield Charm, yet somehow it had given the Fiendfyre an abnormal aggressiveness. Even Marvolio himself had not expected that.
Otherwise, although the Death Eaters would certainly have found Fiendfyre troublesome, they would not have panicked this badly.
Of course, Fiendfyre was not omnipotent. Once the fireballs were spent, all that remained was a chaotic patchwork of blazing fire.
The surviving Death Eaters drew on every bit of magic they knew and managed to confine the Fiendfyre to a limited area.
With the threat of the flames temporarily contained, the Death Eaters, now reduced to less than half their original number, finally let out a sweat-soaked sigh of relief.
As for continuing to attack Marvolio.
You lot can go if you want. I'm hiding at the back this time.
The Death Eaters exchanged looks and instantly understood they were all thinking the same thing.
Then what the hell was the point of fighting?
They nodded firmly.
Even without anyone directing them, and even with dangerous Werewolves mixed in among them, the whole group, Death Eaters and Werewolves alike, moved with remarkable unspoken coordination.
They ran for the island's only dock.
Watching the Death Eaters retreat like a receding tide, Marvolio let out a long breath of relief.
Never mind whether he could pull off another accidental Protego Diabolica. Even if he did, whether the facilities here could survive a second one was another matter entirely.
Then again, looking at the prison cells, which the flames had already destroyed beyond recognition, it seemed they did not really need to worry about whether there would be a second round...
"Er, should we go after them and arrest them?" Williamson asked hesitantly.
Marvolio tilted his head back and looked helplessly at the Dementors drifting around them.
"If you can handle those Dementors, I don't mind letting you earn a bit more credit."
Williamson immediately shrank back, but he was still unwilling to accept it. In fact, all the wizards present watched the Death Eaters stroll out of Azkaban with the same bitterness in their eyes.
They were certainly glad to have survived, but as guards of Azkaban, watching prisoners escape right in front of them was not something they could feel happy about.
"But what are we supposed to do about those Death Eaters and the renegade Dementors?" Williamson asked anxiously.
The news of Voldemort's return was already enough to frighten them. Once those Death Eaters returned to the Dark Lord's side, the pressure on them would multiply several times over.
During the last wizarding war, it had been precisely those Dementors and Death Eaters who caused the greatest destruction.
"It's fine. When the sky falls, the tall ones will hold it up. We're just lowly Aurors," Marvolio replied lightly, even with a trace of a smirk on his face. "Let the big shots worry about that headache."
"And that's your excuse for failing your mission and wrecking Azkaban?" Tver said darkly.
Once he realized Voldemort had been stalling for time, he had no choice but to worry about the other two battlefields as well.
But compared to Azkaban, where Apparition was blocked, the pure-blood families were easier to check on, so he had gone home first.
Sure enough, that had only been a decoy.
Which made Voldemort's true objective perfectly clear.
To make up for the Death Eaters Tver had split away from him, Voldemort had to pour everything into rescuing the prisoners in Azkaban and rebuilding the size and strength of his Death Eater ranks.
Of course, that did not mean the other two battlefields had been meaningless. Just as Tver had predicted earlier, Voldemort's plan had truly been one stone killing three birds.
It punished and intimidated traitors, diverted the wizarding world's attention through the need to preserve the Statute of Secrecy, and at the same time strengthened his own power.
And if things had gone smoothly enough, Voldemort might even have wreaked havoc at Hogwarts himself, severely damaging Dumbledore's authority and undermining the wizarding world's confidence in resisting him.
Thinking of that, even Tver had to admire Voldemort's plan this time.
Despite Tver's foreknowledge advantage and the extensive intelligence at his disposal, despite the enormous damage he had inflicted on Voldemort's forces, Voldemort had still managed to get a group of Death Eaters and Dementors out of Azkaban.
It seemed that holding a defensive line forever really did mean it would eventually break somewhere.
"Hey, hey, don't just stand there in silence. I told you this was an exception. To save this bunch of wizards, I managed to teach myself your signature spell, and your teacher's too!" Marvolio said, sounding both flustered and a little proud.
To his surprise, Tver suddenly gave him a broad smile.
"So, would you like to learn the authentic Protego Diabolica, and maybe even a few more of our teacher's best hidden spells?"
Marvolio knew instantly that nothing good could come of that. But looking at Tver's determined expression...
"...Can I refuse?"
"No."
"..."
His lips trembled in outrage as he stared at Tver, who suddenly looked like the devil himself.
"Then I want to learn Gubraithian Fire!"