Dragonhide Gloves
The Death Eaters had been up for twenty hours, battling the metallic beast that refused to die, charging them, killing three with each attack. The Death Eaters had begun to retreat, newborn followers taking their place in the front. Still, they kept being slaughtered one by one.
"Why is it still alive?" a hooded figure asked, no doubt the Dark Lord, adjusting his gloves.
"She's feisty, my Lord, much more than we expected," apologized a short Death Eater. "She does not wish to die."
The Dark Lord pulled out his wand. "No one does."
A green light ended the chaos.
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