A massive haul of Galleons was brought back to Knockturn Alley by Midgard.
In the same courtyard, she dumped half a trunk of Galleons onto the floor. Golden light rippled across the room, dazzling to behold.
Marcus stared at the floor now carpeted in gold, dumbfounded. He hadn't actually known what Leonard and Midgard's mission was—his only task had been to shadow someone and, at the right moment, create the illusion that Gringotts had been breached.
But never in his wildest thoughts had he imagined the two of them would take the chance to rob Gringotts itself—and in such an inconceivable manner.
They had walked into Gringotts openly, walked out just as openly, used the bank's own Galleons to buy themselves a vault, and still carried off a fortune.
And those greedy goblins would probably even invite them back.
The sheer absurdity of it all left Marcus feeling like he was watching a ridiculous farce.
Leonard, seated nearby, didn't join Midgard in her revelry. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on Marcus.
Marcus hadn't expected that, faced with this mountain of Galleons, anyone could resist staring at the gold and instead study him, a weary middle-aged man.
But Leonard had his reasons. Wealth tempts the heart. Midgard trusted Marcus as her confidant, but as her friend, Leonard felt he needed to judge the man's reaction to sudden riches from the perspective of an outsider.
After all, stumbling into a fortune was worth celebrating. Midgard was practically bursting with eagerness to share her joy with her pack.
But if wealth became the reason her followers turned on each other, it would all fall apart.
Luckily, Marcus passed the test. Shock at the sight of so many Galleons was written on his face, but there was no trace of greed in his eyes.
Perhaps it was because he had nothing left to cling to—his wife and children were dead by his own hand. As a werewolf wizard, he likely no longer desired much of anything.
"Hahaha! With all this money, we won't have to worry about a thing for years!" Midgard laughed wildly. "I'll give everyone a share—one hundred each... no! A thousand!"
The more Leonard listened to her giddy outburst, the more uneasy he became. He cast Marcus a quick glance, then looked back at Midgard.
"And what exactly do you plan to do with all this money?"
"Buy potion ingredients, stock up on food, of course. The wolf cubs need these things."
Midgard's eyes gleamed with excitement. "With potion ingredients, we can get Wolfsbane brewed at a fraction of the cost. With food, no one will go hungry. Life will be so much better!"
Leonard stared blankly at her, then glanced at Marcus—whose expression mirrored his own confusion—and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
At least not every werewolf wizard thought like her. Marcus, at least, still seemed grounded enough to recognize how foolish this plan was.
It was just a shame he couldn't speak. Otherwise, he might have tried to talk sense into her.
For now, that responsibility fell to Leonard.
"And then what? Everyone just sits around gorging themselves on Galleons, bellies full, thinking that'll keep the hunger away?" Leonard said with biting sarcasm.
"Gorging? Of course not. This much gold will last us ages," Midgard replied with a satisfied grin. "At least ten years."
"And after those ten years?" Leonard pressed. "Do you expect them all to go back to starving three days out of every nine?"
Midgard gave an awkward laugh. "It won't be that bad. We'll deal with ten years later when it comes."
"The werewolf wizards ten years from now won't be the same as they are today." Leonard rose to his feet. "After a decade of handouts, they'll be useless. When that time comes, you won't be able to force them back into hardship."
"They won't remember the years you gave them money. They'll only resent you for the moment you can't." Leonard picked up a gold coin, tossed it in his palm, watched the glimmering light dance across its surface, then clenched it in his fist.
"By then, you'll be the enemy of the werewolf wizards."
His voice was cold. Though it was still the voice of a child, the chill in it made Midgard shudder.
"That can't be. Everyone just wants a simple, peaceful life," she muttered.
"When the money flows, life feels peaceful and harmonious. When it dries up, you'll be the scapegoat who ruined it. That's the same for Muggles and wizards alike," Leonard said. "And even if those werewolves didn't blame you—after ten years of easy living, do you really think they'd humble themselves, swallow the scorn, and go work for others?"
Midgard fell silent, finally understanding what he meant.
"You see it too. They won't. They'll choose the easier road—stealing and robbing."
Leonard tossed the coin back into the pile, listening to the crisp clink as he said, "Money is a fine thing, but it's also poison that rots the heart."
Midgard bared her teeth at his words, clearly stung. Marcus, standing nearby, was no less shocked.
It was the first time he'd heard Leonard speak like this, and the first time he truly realized how different Leonard was.
This child was nothing like an eleven-year-old about to start at Hogwarts.
"Then what do you suggest we do?" Midgard asked, scratching her head in embarrassment. She had long since grown used to Leonard's maturity and asked without hesitation, "I'm not as smart as you. If you've got a plan, just say it."