Gori's scarlet eyes stared straight at Herman. His voice remained steady, carrying a certainty that brooked no refusal. "Stop resisting and come with us. The bell-ringer of the prophecy, the boy who will end the bloodline curse."
Herman had already deftly swapped in a fresh magazine. Without a word, he raised his gun and fired another burst. Bullets whistled straight toward Gori's face, but this time, Gori was prepared. Just before each bullet touched his body, a thin, blood-red barrier materialized in midair, intercepting it with precision. With a series of sharp clinks, the bullets fell to the floor, trailing wisps of smoke.
But the bullets were only a feint. Even as Herman pulled the trigger, his other hand had already drawn several grenades from inside his clothes. He gripped the safety pins with his teeth, yanked them out, and hurled the grenades behind Gori.
Almost at the very instant he threw them, he wrapped his left arm around Draco, who was clutching his hem tightly, while his right hand seized Harry, who was staring fixedly at Gori. He changed direction and charged out of the compartment without looking back.
He rapidly calculated his chances. The grenades probably could not kill this old monster, who was clearly far beyond his level, but since the bullets had wounded him, the blasts and flying fragments should at least keep him scrambling for a while.
The most important thing now was to buy time. Herman firmly believed Dumbledore would come.
Even if Dumbledore did not care about a nobody like him, Neville and Harry were still on the train. Those two had survived Voldemort back then; surely they could not meet their ends at some vampire's hands today without even knowing what was happening.
As these thoughts flashed through Herman's mind, his feet had already carried him and the two girls out into the corridor.
Judging by his past experience throwing grenades, Herman would not make it in time if he kept running. Shrapnel could very well hit him from behind, so he simply threw himself forward, pulling Harry and Draco down with him.
Holding Harry and Draco, he pressed his body tightly against the floor, hoping only that the Hogwarts Express's carriages were sturdy enough to withstand the grenade blasts.
Inside the compartment, Gori's gaze swept over the dark lumps of iron flying toward him, and his brow furrowed slightly.
He truly had never seen such things before. After all, this was his first encounter even with a modern handgun, let alone grenades.
But he certainly was not naive enough to think they were merely stones thrown at him.
Instinctively, he immediately manipulated the blood flowing through the air, attempting to wrap the grenades in layers of the viscous, blood-red substance, just as he had dealt with George's pile of magical objects. He sought to use the magic within the blood to cut off and break down the magical energy inside them, rendering them inert.
Unfortunately, Gori had completely misjudged how grenades worked. He had never read any writings about Muggle gunpowder weapons, after all, and naturally did not know that these lumps of iron killed through the shock waves and fragments produced by chemical explosions.
Inside the blood-wrapped grenades, the gunpowder burned fiercely. Their metal casings visibly swelled, glaring firelight shining through the cracks. In another second, they would burst apart and reduce the entire compartment to rubble.
The nearby vampires would probably be riddled with shrapnel, while Neville and Hugo, who had only just reached the doorway and had not yet fully escaped the blast radius, would inevitably be gravely injured as well.
At that critical instant, a clear, melodious cry pierced the air. The sound seemed to descend from the highest heavens, carrying a sacred, searing power.
At the same time, a dazzling blaze flared behind Gori, like a miniature sun suddenly rising, illuminating the entire compartment and the night sky beyond the windows as brightly as day.
From within the flames, a tall, slender figure in moon-white robes slowly emerged.
Dumbledore's long, silvery-white hair and beard bore soft golden edges in the firelight. His steps were unhurried, his eyes calm, as though he had merely opened an ordinary door and walked inside.
As the old man stepped forward, everything around him suddenly slowed. Shattered glass hung in midair, drifting downward at an exceedingly slow pace; the expression of shock on Gori's face stretched out several times longer; at the instant the grenades swelled until their casings ruptured and fragments were about to fly, the entire world seemed to sink into thick honey.
Only Dumbledore's movements remained completely unaffected. The snowy hem of his robes stirred gently, and every step fell at a normal rhythm, at odds with the frozen time around him yet carrying an utterly natural elegance.
Looking at the grenade fragments about to scatter in every direction, Dumbledore shook his head helplessly, the faintest wry smile tugging at his lips. He raised his plain, old-fashioned wand, which resembled a withered branch, and gave it a light, seemingly casual wave.
Something strange happened. The metal fragments that had already broken free of the grenade casings and were flying at high speed suddenly seemed to be seized by an invisible hand. All at once, they flew backward, retracing their paths, fitting and joining back together until the grenades were miraculously restored to their original, intact state. Then a soft blue glow enveloped them, supporting them like bubbles as they drifted slowly to Dumbledore's side and hovered quietly. Only after all this was done did the frozen time around them resume its normal flow, like ice thawing. The air moved again, and sound returned.
Only then did Gori suddenly notice someone behind him. He spun around, all the blood in his body, which had barely flowed in over a thousand years, instantly tightening.
He saw Dumbledore, and Fawkes the phoenix circling beside the old man, his entire body burning with golden flames.
Fawkes spread his broad wings and beat them slowly. Each wingbeat scattered strings of sparks that tumbled and danced through the air, radiating light and heat that dark creatures instinctively feared.
The ordinary vampires standing on either side of Gori immediately let out piercing screams. Thick black smoke rose from their bodies, and their skin curled and peeled away like scorched paper. Soon, they could endure no more. One after another, they burst into countless tiny bats with a bang and fled blindly in all directions, turning deaf ears to Gori's furious shouts and summons.
Gori himself fared little better. Fawkes's flames naturally suppressed dark creatures such as vampires. However, he had lived for over a thousand years, after all, and had amassed considerable magical power within his body. He hastily drove streams of dense black magical mist out through his pores, shrouding himself tightly and barely keeping the searing flames at bay. But the black mist was also evaporating and dispersing with a hiss, clearly unable to last much longer.
"Headmaster Dumbledore, we have no intention of making an enemy of Hogwarts." Fighting back the searing pain, Gori explained rapidly, "We only want to find a child. We are not here to cause trouble."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of casual teasing in his voice. "I do not recall Hogwarts ever admitting vampire students. According to the ancient agreement signed between the wizarding world and the vampire race, neither side is to interfere in the other's educational affairs. Besides, your constitution really is ill-suited to receiving an education at a wizarding school." As he spoke, Fawkes slowly circled him, the glow of his flames gilding the old man with a sacred radiance.