Outside Gringotts, the Aurors had fallen into a tense argument. The ruined entrance stood before them, blocked by rubble and wrapped in a dark barrier that had already sent one Blasting Curse back into their own ranks. Everyone wanted the Dark wizard stopped, but no one wanted to be the next person sent flying across Diagon Alley.
"Although this place has been enchanted and can rebound spells, if we all cast magic at the same time, we should be able to break through," one Auror suggested. His voice carried more confidence than his face did, and his eyes kept flicking toward the injured being carried away.
"No," another Auror said immediately. "What if it still rebounds? A combined spell from all of us would be far stronger than Dawlish's Blasting Curse, and if it reflects back, we might not just fail to get inside. We could destroy half of Diagon Alley."
"That's too risky," a third muttered. "Why don't we hold the entrance and wait for the Dark wizard to come out? Once he appears, we arrest him."
"And what if he escapes?" another snapped. "There's no Anti-Apparition Jinx cast out here. If he can Disapparate from inside once he gets what he wants, we may never catch him."
One opinion followed another, each one interrupted by a different concern. The Aurors argued in low, urgent voices, but no plan satisfied everyone. The barrier made direct entry dangerous, waiting invited failure, and time was slipping away beneath their feet.
Some distance from Gringotts, Hagrid stood with Harry and watched the scene unfold. Hagrid's brows were drawn together, and his huge hands clenched and unclenched as if he desperately wanted to help but knew barging into the middle of a Ministry operation would only make things worse.
"Oh, this is just my luck," Hagrid grumbled. "Gringotts gets robbed right when I'm supposed to fetch that little something Dumbledore sent me for. Now I won't be able to get it."
"What is it?" Harry asked at once.
His curiosity cut through his fear. After everything that had happened that morning, he had learned that the wizarding world was full of secrets, and anything connected to Dumbledore sounded important.
"Oh, Harry, I can't tell anyone that," Hagrid said quickly. He looked left, then right, and his voice dropped into an awkward whisper that was still far too loud. "That's Dumbledore's business. I promised him I wouldn't say a word."
Harry looked at him for a moment, then let the matter drop. Hagrid's expression made it clear that asking again would only make him panic.
On the other side of the street, Mr. Granger was also watching with growing concern. He stood close to Hermione, one hand hovering protectively near her shoulder, while Professor McGonagall tried very hard to look composed.
"Professor McGonagall," Mr. Granger said, unable to hold back any longer, "what exactly is happening over there?"
"Mr. Granger, please try not to worry," Professor McGonagall said. Her voice was steady, but the tightness around her mouth betrayed her embarrassment. "The Ministry of Magic will handle this situation. I am truly sorry that your first visit to our world has involved such alarming events."
"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, her eyes bright despite the tension around her, "a wizard robbed Gringotts, didn't he? And Gringotts is the bank of the wizarding world?"
Professor McGonagall looked down at her with clear surprise. Even in the middle of panic, Hermione had been listening carefully and piecing things together from the conversations around her.
"You are very clever, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said.
"Good heavens," Mr. Granger muttered. "Someone robbed a wizarding bank."
His face grew even more troubled. First, the wizarding pub had been attacked. Now the wizarding bank had been robbed. If things continued like this, the next thing he heard might be that Hogwarts itself had been blown up.
"My dear," Mr. Granger said, turning to Hermione, "I'm not sure we should be going through with this magic school business. This place is far too dangerous. Your mother and I can't possibly be comfortable leaving you alone in a world like this."
Hermione's face changed at once, alarm replacing curiosity. Before she could protest, Professor McGonagall stepped in, looking more uncomfortable than ever.
"Oh, Mr. Granger, please don't misunderstand," she said quickly. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is the safest place in the wizarding world. Professor Dumbledore is there, and he is widely regarded as the greatest wizard of our time."
She could hardly deny that the situation looked terrible. Only minutes earlier, she had been reassuring the Grangers that the wizarding world was safe and orderly. Now Diagon Alley was full of panic, Gringotts had been breached, and the Ministry's Aurors were arguing outside a cursed entrance they could not cross.
"Enough," Fudge suddenly snapped in front of Gringotts. The Minister for Magic had finally lost patience with the endless debate among the Aurors. "All of you, stop arguing and send for Dumbledore. He's the only one who can resolve this."
Rufus Scrimgeour's expression darkened slightly. As Head of the Auror Office, he had never liked the Ministry relying too heavily on Dumbledore, especially in matters that should have belonged to official law enforcement. Still, an order from the Minister for Magic was not something he could openly refuse.
He turned to send someone, but before the order could be carried out, a flash of scarlet and gold swept through the air.
"No need, Cornelius," a calm voice said. "I am already here."
A phoenix passed overhead in a burst of flame-bright feathers, and an elderly wizard descended gracefully into the street. He was tall and thin, with silver hair and a long beard, and his presence seemed to settle over Diagon Alley like a steady hand.
It was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and the most respected wizard of the age.
"Oh, Albus, my old friend, you're finally here," Fudge said at once.
The Minister hurried toward him so quickly that anyone watching might have mistaken him for one of Dumbledore's subordinates rather than the head of Britain's magical government. Relief washed over Fudge's face, loosening the panic that had tightened it moments before.
"Albus, things are dreadful," Fudge said, nearly tripping over his own words. "First there was an attack at the Leaky Cauldron, and now Gringotts has been robbed. What sort of person could do this?"
He wrung his hands, his voice rising. "Those cursed Dark wizards should all be sent straight to Azkaban and left with the Dementors. Albus, you must help me this time."
"Calm yourself, Cornelius," Dumbledore said gently. "The situation is serious, but panic will not improve it."
His voice was mild, but it carried weight. Fudge drew in a shaky breath, and even the crowd seemed to quiet as Dumbledore stepped forward.
Dumbledore's arrival gave everyone something to hold on to. The frightened whispers softened, the Aurors straightened, and even the shopkeepers peering from their doors seemed a little less afraid. This was the power of a reputation built over decades, the calm certainty that if anyone could handle a crisis like this, it would be Dumbledore.
"Let me take a look first," Dumbledore said.
The Aurors moved aside without argument. Dumbledore walked to the pile of rubble blocking the entrance to Gringotts and studied it carefully, his blue eyes sharp behind his half-moon spectacles.
He did not act immediately. First, he examined the shape of the collapse, the faint black lines hidden beneath the dust, and the magic pulsing through the broken stone. Then he raised the wand in his hand and cast several probing spells toward the barrier.
"Albus," Fudge asked anxiously, stepping closer despite his obvious fear, "how is it?"
"I cannot say for certain yet," Dumbledore replied. His expression had become thoughtful and grave. "But there is powerful Dark magic here. Allow me to try again."
He lifted the Elder Wand.
A stream of magic flowed from the wand and struck the rubble. Dumbledore did not blast at the barrier as Dawlish had done. Instead, he pressed into it steadily, testing, peeling, and forcing the hidden structure to reveal itself.
Wisps of black smoke began rising from the collapsed entrance. The lines carved into the rubble slowly darkened, and at last, a black magic array appeared clearly before them.
"Very dark magic," Dumbledore said. His usually gentle face turned serious. "And very troublesome."
Fudge, Scrimgeour, Kingsley, and the surrounding Aurors exchanged startled looks. If even Dumbledore called the magic troublesome, then the wizard inside Gringotts was no ordinary criminal.
Dumbledore increased the flow of magic. The dark array trembled, its black glow struggling against the pressure of the Elder Wand, until the pattern finally cracked apart and burst into black flames.
The flames burned for several seconds, then vanished into smoke.
"Is it broken?" Fudge asked quickly.
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "You may remove the stones now, but be careful. That wizard may be waiting behind the rubble."
Dumbledore nodded.
.....
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