Back Where It Belonged, They Almost Fooled Us

Harry, Ron, and Hermione raced through the woods, the trees flashing past beside them. Almost every second, several spells came hurtling at them from behind.

All three of them were blank-minded. At that moment, the only thing they could think of was one word: run.

As for fighting back, they truly did not have the ability.

A momentary pause or a single turn could get them hit by a spell.

Ron was caught by a chain and slammed heavily to the ground.

Harry noticed it and panicked.

His own situation was no better. Several Death Eaters behind him were getting closer and closer.

A blue flash suddenly struck at his feet. Harry stumbled and fell, his Wand flying several yards away.

"Run! Go on, run!"

Footsteps came from behind. Ignoring the pain in his body, Harry crawled toward Aaron's Wand.

But before he could move, the Wand flew up and was caught by a Death Eater.

Harry gritted his teeth, rolled to his feet, and swiftly pulled a black revolver from his bag.

A gunshot rang out. The Death Eater who had relaxed after confiscating the Wand was blasted backward, while the others immediately ducked behind the trees.

Harry gained a brief chance to catch his breath, struggling to use the gun in his hand to fight for a sliver of survival.

But he also knew that, barring a miracle, he would not escape. Snake Eater was powerful enough, but it consumed a great deal to use.

And in this situation, he could not fully bring out the gun's power. The bullets he fired were only somewhat stronger than the spells he could cast.

More importantly, he had fewer than six bullets left. Once he ran out, he would be finished—and at least three people were still chasing him.

**Bang!