Chapter 126: The Headmaster's Fake, The Midnight Thieves, and the Bought-out Right to Punish
December, Hogwarts Headmaster's Office.
Outside the window, heavy snow fell, masking the Castle's murderous aura.
Severus Snape sat in the high-backed chair where AlbusDumbledore once sat, his expression gloomy.
He wore black Headmaster's robes, and his charred right hand was still locked by Morrin's gold ring, hidden in his sleeve.
On the desk in front of him lay the ruby-encrusted
sword of gryffindor.
"..." Snape cursed under his breath.
The portrait of Phineas Nigellus on the wall had just told him that Potter's trio of fools were wandering around Dean Forest like headless flies, and they seemed to be freezing.
"Bang!"
The office door was violently burst open.
Amycus Carrow and Alecto Carrow, the Death Eatersiblings and current Professors, roughly shoved three students inside.
Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood.
Their faces were bruised and their robes were torn, but their eyes remained defiant.
"Look what we caught, Headmaster!" Amycus sneered, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. "These three brats tried to steal something! They wanted to steal that sword!"
"To give to Potter, right?" Alecto shrieked, her wandpointing at Ginny Weasley's face. "Traitors! I'm going to teach them a lesson! Crucio—"
"Stop."
Snape spoke coldly.
He stood up, his black eyes sweeping over the three students, finally resting on Luna.
Luna didn't look at him; instead, she stared at the ceiling as if there were a bug there that only she could see.
"I won't have the carpets in my office dirtied," Snape said.
"They're thieves!" Amycus roared. "The Dark Lord said that rebels must be severely punished! I want them to taste the torture instruments!"
"Regarding 'punishment'..."
An elegant, lazy voice came from the shadows by the fireplace.
"...I believe it should be decided by the owner of the assets."
The Caro Siblings spun around.
Morrin White was sitting in a guest armchair, holding a cup of steaming black tea, with an exquisite wool blanket over his legs.
"White?!" Amycus's expression changed. "When did you get here?"
"I've been here." Morrin put down his teacup and stood up. "This sword is nominally school property, but in reality, its maintenance costs are covered by the White Foundation."
Morrin walked to the desk, picked up the sword, and lightly flicked the blade.
A crisp ring.
Hum—
"A relic of Gryffindor." Morrin looked at Ginny. "Admirable courage, Miss Weasley. But stealing is not a good habit, especially when this sword is priceless."
"We did it for Harry!" Neville shouted, though his nose was still bleeding.
"Be quiet, Longbottom."
Morrin turned his head to look at The Caro Siblings:
"Professors, these three students not only attempted theft but also damaged the door lock I just replaced for the Headmaster's office. This is not just a breach of discipline; it's an economic crime."
"So?" Alecto asked impatiently. "Are you going to make them pay?"
"They can't afford it."
Morrin shrugged:
"So, they must pay with their bodies... I mean, labor reform."
Morrin pulled a pre-prepared document from his robes:
"Hagrid recently cleared a new Potion plantation on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. That's my property, and it's short of hands to fertilize those dangerous Mandrakes. The work is exhausting, dirty, and dangerous."
"Send them there."
Morrin looked at Snape, a certain understanding passing between them:
"Let them do hard labor under that Half-Giant's supervision for a month. I think that will teach them a lesson better than a few Crucio. After all, making pure-bloods shovel manure is the ultimate humiliation, isn't it?"
The corner of Snape's mouth twitched imperceptibly.
"An excellent suggestion, Mr. White." Snape turned to The Caro Siblings. "Take them to Hagrid. Tell that big fellow that if they dare to slack off, let them stay in the Forbidden Forest at night."
"But..." Amycus still wanted to use torture.
"Take them away!" Snape roared, his headmaster's authority exploding.
The Caro Siblings reluctantly escorted the three away.
Before leaving, Luna looked back at Morrin, her eyes clear, as if saying, "Thank you for the tea, even though I didn't get to drink it."
Only Snape and Morrin remained in the office.
"You saved them." Snape sat back in his chair and tiredly rubbed his brow. "If The Caro Siblings had their way, Longbottom might have been tortured to insanity."
"I'm just protecting my 'potential employees'." Morrin said flatly. "Neville has a talent for Herbology; I don't want his brain to be ruined."
"Anyway, back to business."
Morrin walked to the desk and picked up the real sword of gryffindor.
"Is this the 'delivery' you're sending to Potter?"
"Yes." Snape looked at the sword. "This sword can destroy a Horcrux. Dumbledore left it for him."
"But you can't take this sword away. Lord Voldemort will periodically check if it's still here."
As Morrin spoke, he slowly pulled an identical sword from his coat's inner pocket—an Undetectable Extension Charmspace.
The same rubies, the same silver light, even the tiny scratches on the blade were perfectly replicated.
[Alchemy Creation: High-Quality Imitation · sword of gryffindor]
[Material]: Goblin Silver + Alchemy Mimicry.
[Characteristics]: Apart from being unable to absorb venom and destroy a Horcrux, other physical properties are identical to the real sword.
"This is..." Snape was shocked.
"My masterpiece."
Morrin placed the fake sword on the table, and it let out a hum identical to the real one.
"Put this in the display case, or send it to Bellatrix. That noseless fellow Lord Voldemort doesn't understand Alchemy; he won't be able to tell."
Morrin handed the real sword to Snape.
"As for the real one..."
A sharp glint flashed in Morrin's eyes:
"...send it out tonight. Harry and the others are in Dean Forest; I've already sent the location to your two-way mirror."
"Remember, make it mysterious. Use your Patronus to lead the way."
Snape took the real sword, looking at the heavy weapon in his hand, then at the near-perfect fake on the desk.
"You even prepared this?" Snape's voice was hoarse. "Just how far ahead are you calculating?"
"Calculating to the point..."
Morrin walked to the window and watched the heavy snow falling outside.
"...where even if Lord Voldemort takes this fake sword to strike Harry, he'll only find it's an expensive piece of scrap metal."
"Go, Severus."
Morrin waved his hand:
"After the delivery, remember to come back. I still have a budget proposal for the 'Hogwarts Defense WardsUpgrade' that needs your signature."
Snape gave him a deep look, hid the real sword in his robes, transformed into a cloud of black smoke, and flew out the window.
Morrin stood alone in the Headmaster's office.
He looked at Dumbledore's portrait on the wall.
The old man in the painting was pretending to sleep.
"Stop pretending, Albus." Morrin tapped the frame. "What's your assessment of my 'Imitation Plan'?"
Dumbledore opened one eye and gave a playful wink. "Very business-minded, Morrin. And... excellent craftsmanship."
"Thank you for the compliment."
Morrin picked up the fake sword and gave it a casual swing.
"Next, we just wait for Harry to get the real sword."
"And then..."
Morrin looked in the direction of Gringotts.
"...it's that mountain of gold."
Chapter 127: Trial Under the Ice Lake, Quantified Envy
The Forest of Dean.
The winter forest was silent and deadly.
A thick layer of snow covered the ground, and ancient oaks pierced the night sky like black skeletons.
Harry Potter sat alone outside the tent on watch.
Hermione was sleeping inside.
Long-term depression and physical suffering had led Rondown his original path after all.
Since Ron's departure, their life on the run had become even more silent and oppressive.
Although the supplies provided by Morrin kept them from starving, the spiritual emptiness was something beef stewed in red wine couldn't fill.
Suddenly, a silver light pierced through the pitch-black woods.
A silver-white doe stepped lightly across the snow, walking silently toward Harry.
It was beautiful and elegant, radiating a soft glow from its entire body.
"Who are you?" Harry asked softly, his white breath instantly freezing in the air.
The doe did not answer; it turned and ran deep into the forest.
Harry did not hesitate, grabbing his wand and chasing after it. Intuition told him this wasn't Dark Arts.
He followed the doe to a small frozen pond. The doe vanished.
Harry leaned closer to the pond, and by the light of his wand, he saw something shimmering beneath the ice.
It was a sword.
The hilt was inlaid with brilliant rubies, shining brightly at the bottom of the black lake.
The sword of gryffindor.
"Morrin didn't lie to me..." Harry's heart pounded wildly, "Snape really sent it over."
But he quickly discovered a problem.
The ice was easy to break, but the sword was locked inside a transparent alchemical cube, sunken at the bottom of the water.
[Only those who overcome their inner demons may wield the sword.]
"Damn it," Harry cursed.
This was definitely Morrin's handiwork. That control freak even set a password for a delivery.
Harry tried using Accio, but it was ineffective.
It seemed he had to go into the water physically.
He stripped off his clothes, broke the ice, and jumped into the bone-chilling water.
Just as he dove down and his fingers touched the alchemical cube—
Buzz—
The cube suddenly contracted, turning into a black rope that looked like liquid, instantly wrapping around Harry's neck!
That was no ordinary rope; it was [Alchemy Mimicry: Dementor's Touch].
A strong sense of suffocation and despair instantly overwhelmed Harry.
He struggled in the water, but the more he struggled, the tighter it became.
He was going to drown.
Right at this life-or-death moment—
Splash!
Another person jumped into the water.
A pair of strong hands grabbed Harry and dragged him out of the water.
The two of them rolled onto the snow, gasping for air.
Harry coughed up the water in his lungs and looked up to see a soaking wet, red-faced, red-haired figure.
"Ron?!"
"It's me." Ron held the Deluminator in his hand, still shivering, "You idiot! You almost drowned yourself!"
"You're back..." Harry felt his eyes grow hot.
"Yeah." Ron scratched his head awkwardly, "The... the Deluminator brought me back. I heard your voice."
"Alright, enough with the reunion."
A line of golden writing suddenly floated above the unopened alchemical cube, which Ron had also fished out.
[Second tester detected: Ron Weasley.]
[Trial Start: The Weight of Envy.]
The cube suddenly opened, releasing a cloud of black smoke.
The smoke twisted in the air, turning into two clear figures—Harry and Hermione.
But it wasn't the real them.
It was a more perfect, more dazzling version of them.
"Harry" looked at Ron with a contemptuous gaze: "What use are you, Ron? No money, no talent, even your wand is second-hand. Even this meal was given to you by Morrin's charity."
"Hermione" put her arm around "Harry's" arm, saying coldly—
"No..." Ron's face was pale, and his hand holding the wandwas shaking.
This was his deepest inner fear.
It was also Ron's greatest inner demon, precisely calculated by Morrin through the [Mind Palace].
"Destroy it, Ron!" Harry shouted, "That's not real! That's a trap set by Morrin!"
"But..." Ron looked at the perfect "Harry," the red light in his eyes growing stronger.
"Do it!"
Just as Ron was on the verge of collapsing, the alchemical device suddenly emitted a cold recording belonging to Morrin White:
"Mr. Weasley, if you can't even defeat a phantom, then you truly are not worthy of my dividends."
These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over Ron's head.
Morrin's mockery.
The mockery of that high-and-mighty capitalist.
"To hell with your dividends! To hell with Morrin!"
Ron roared, his envy instantly transforming into anger at being manipulated.
He raised his wand—Morrin hadn't helped him fix it before, but he had bought a new one later—and slashed fiercely at the black mist.
"Confringo!"
Boom!
The black mist exploded, and the illusion vanished.
The alchemical cube shattered, revealing the true sword of gryffindor inside.
Ron panted heavily and picked up the sword.
He looked at Harry, the gloom in his eyes having dissipated.
"Sorry, Harry," Ron whispered, "I'm such a bastard."
"You're a hero." Harry walked over and hugged him, "You saved me. You got the sword."
The two stood in the snow, looking at the sword in their hands.
Though the process was agonizing, they had to admit that Morrin's "test" had precisely excised the tumor in their team like a scalpel... Meanwhile, near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.
There was a strangely shaped house here, like a giant black cylinder.
The Lovegood house.
Late at night, Xenophilius Lovegood was pacing anxiously in the house. His magazine, The Quibbler, had recently been under close surveillance by Death Eaters because of its support for Harry.
Knock, knock, knock.
The sound of knocking echoed.
Xenophilius jumped in fright and looked out through the peephole.
There were no Death Eaters outside; instead, a black sedan was parked there.
The door opened.
Morrin White stood at the door, the wind and snow kept at bay. Behind him followed Alfred and two Werewolfbodyguards.
"Mr. White?" Xenophilius opened his mouth in surprise, "How did you..."
"I'm here to pick someone up."
Morrin walked straight into the house, glancing around the place filled with strange inventions.
"Where is Luna?"
"She's upstairs sleeping..." Xenophilius rubbed his hands nervously, "Mr. White, the Ministry of Magic is watching very closely lately, for you to come here like this..."
"It's precisely because they're watching closely that I've come."
Morrin looked at this somewhat eccentric father and said in a serious tone:
"Mr. Lovegood, according to my intelligence network, the Death Eaters plan to 'visit' you tomorrow. They want to take Luna away to threaten you into stopping the publication of articles supporting Harry and to force you to reveal Potter's whereabouts."
Xenophilius's face went white instantly: "Take... take Lunaaway? No! Absolutely not!"
Chapter 128: The Tale of the Three Brothers, Heavily Armed Dobby
"So, I am taking her with me."
Morrin's voice was unquestionable: "I will place her in the most secure core area of the White Manor. There is the Fidelius Charm, the Werewolf Guard, and the alchemical defenses I personally installed."
"She is my 'partner'. I won't let anyone touch her."
Just then, light footsteps came from the stairs.
Luna walked down in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes.
"Morrin?" She saw Morrin, not surprised, but instead revealed a happy smile, "Are you here to take me to see the Moon Frogs?"
"No, I am taking you on a vacation."
Morrin walked over, took off his coat, and draped it over Luna.
"Go pack your things, Luna. Bring all your brushes and books. We are going to a place without Nargles."
"Okay." Luna nodded obediently and went upstairs.
Morrin turned around and looked at Xenophilius.
"As for you, Mr. Lovegood."
Morrin pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket:
"You can continue to stay at home. When the Death Eaters come tomorrow, if Harry Potter really comes to ask you about the 'deathly hallows'..."
"...You just tell the Death Eaters that Potter is here."
"What?!" Xenophilius was stunned, "You want me to betray Potter?"
"This is part of the script."
A glint flashed in Morrin's eyes:
"Harry needs to know the story of the deathly hallows, and he also needs to experience a 'betrayal' to grow. Besides..."
"...If the Death Eaters come and find that Luna is not there, they will lose their leverage over you. At that time, you just need to act panicked and play along."
"Once the battle begins, my Werewolf squad will pick you up from the back door."
"This is a deal, sir." Morrin patted Xenophilius on the shoulder, "You trade information for safety, and I am responsible for the safety net."
Ten minutes later.
Morrin held Luna's hand and walked out of that strange house.
The car door opened, and the warm light illuminated Luna's face.
"Where are we going?" Luna asked.
"To my Castle." Morrin sat in the car, "There is endless pudding there."
"What about Harry?"
"Harry has his own path to walk."
Morrin looked at the pitch-black night outside the window, the direction Harry was about to arrive from.
"He needs to collect the three deathly hallows. And I..."
Morrin held Luna's hand, feeling that real warmth.
"...I already have my 'Moon'."
"Next stop."
Morrin's gaze turned to the distant Gringotts.
"Bellatrix's vault. hufflepuffs cup."
"It's time to go to the bank for a 'withdrawal'."
Near Ottery St. Catchpole.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in front of the house that looked like a giant black cylinder.
Although Morrin had warned them about the ambush here, Harry had to find out the meaning of that symbol, which was the clue Dumbledore left in the book for Hermione.
"Ready?" Harry gripped his wand.
"Remember what Morrin said." Hermione reminded, "If something goes wrong, press that emergency button immediately."
They knocked on the door.
Xenophilius Lovegood opened the door.
He looked crazier than ever, his hair disheveled, barefoot, and his eyes wandering.
"You..." Xenophilius looked at Harry, a trace of rehearsed "panic" flashing in his eyes, "Why are you here?"
"We want to ask about that symbol, sir." Harry pointed to the necklace on Xenophilius's neck.
"Come in... come in quickly."
There was no sign of Luna in the house.
Xenophilius poured them tea, disgusting Gurdyroot tea, and then began to tell that ancient legend — "The Tale of the Three Brothers".
elder wand, resurrection stone, invisibility cloak.
deathly hallows.
"Conquering death..." Harry muttered to himself.
He finally understood.
Lord Voldemort was looking for the elder wand, while he was looking for Horcruxes.
Just as the story ended.
Xenophilius suddenly stood up and walked to the window.
"What's wrong, sir?" Hermione asked vigilantly, "Where is Luna? Is she upstairs?"
"Luna... she is... she is on vacation." Xenophilius's voice was trembling, he remembered Morrin's script, "But you... you can't leave."
"I'm sorry, Potter."
Xenophilius pulled open the curtains violently and shouted outside:
"He is here! Potter is here! Come quickly!"
Boom! Boom!
The Death Eaters, including Travers, who were already lying in ambush outside, immediately launched an attack.
Several spells pierced the walls, and the circular tower began to crumble.
"Traitor!" Ron roared.
"Run! Apparition!" Hermione grabbed Harry.
"No! Anti-Apparition charms have been cast here!" Harryshouted.
Seeing that the Death Eaters were about to rush in.
If it followed the original story, they would be captured and then taken to Malfoy Manor.
But this time, it was different.
Pop!
A crisp cracking sound rang out in the center of the living room.
It wasn't a Death Eater.
It was a small, big-eared figure.
Dobby.
But the little elf's outfit stunned all three of them.
Dobby was not wearing that dirty tea towel.
He was wearing a custom-made, shimmering [Mithril Tactical Vest], a mini pair of wind goggles on his head, and even a few alchemical smoke bombs hanging from his waist.
"Mr. Harry Potter!" Dobby squeaked, his tone full of professional pride, "Mr. White sent Dobby to pick you up! This is the 'White Express' service!"
"Dobby?!" Harry was overjoyed.
"Get down!" Dobby shouted.
At this moment, a green light shot through the floor.
Dobby did not dodge.
He puffed out his small chest.
Clang!
The green light hit the Mithril vest on his body and was actually deflected by the alchemical amulet!
"This is the work uniform issued by the boss! Very sturdy!" Dobby patted his chest proudly.
Then, he took an alchemical ball from his waist and threw it hard on the ground.
Bang—!!!
Thick, peppery black smoke instantly filled the entire room.
The Death Eaters who rushed in were choked into violent coughing, tears streaming down their faces, unable to see anything.
"Grab Dobby's hand!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed that rough little hand in the smoke.
"Where are we going?" Ron asked.
"To Shell Cottage!" Dobby said, "This is the optimal route planned by the boss! No need to go to that terrible Malfoy Manor!"
The elf's magic can penetrate Anti-Apparition charms.
Pop!
Four figures disappeared instantly.
A few seconds later.
The ruined Lovegood house was left with only a group of furious Death Eaters.
"Where are they?!" Travers roared.
Xenophilius crawled out from under the table and patted the dust off his body.
He was not afraid, because he knew his mission was complete.
Morrin White had promised that as long as this play was finished, Luna would be safe.
Cornwall, the beach outside Shell Cottage.
The sea breeze whistled.
Four people appeared out of thin air and fell onto the soft beach.
There were no flying knives from Bellatrix.
Dobby stood there unharmed, took off his goggles, revealing two large, tennis-ball-like eyes.
"We have arrived, gentlemen, ladies." Dobby bowed, "The trip is over. Please remember to give Dobby a five-star review, so the boss will give Dobby a bonus, and Dobbycan buy many new socks."
Harry climbed up from the beach, looking at the intact Dobby in front of him, and then at the brightly lit cottage of Bill and Fleur in the distance.
A huge sense of relief after surviving a disaster welled up in his heart.
He remembered that Dobby used to be easily injured and even tried to punish himself.
But Dobby now... had been armed by Morrin into a special forces soldier.
"Thank you, Dobby." Harry squatted down and hugged the little elf tightly, "And thank Morrin for me."
"Dobby is very happy to save Harry Potter!" Dobby's ears were trembling with excitement.
Just then, Bill ran out of the house.
"Harry! How did you get here?"
"It's a long story." Harry stood up and patted the sand off his body, "We just went through a... narrow escape."
Behind them, Dobby's figure disappeared again.
"Dobby still has to go back to report to the boss! Goodbye, Harry Potter!"
Looking at the place where Dobby disappeared, Hermionesaid softly:
"Although I don't like Morrin's style... I have to admit that the vest he gave Dobby saved its life."
Harry nodded.
If it were before, perhaps someone would have been injured, or even sacrificed.
But because of Morrin's intervention, although the process was full of the smell of money, everyone survived.
"Let's go." Harry looked towards Shell Cottage.
Chapter 129: The Greed of Goblins, the Dragon Beneath
This was the new home of Bill and Fleur after their marriage, located by the sea in Cornwall.
Waves crashed against the rocks, emitting rumbles of sound.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already relocated here, as Dean Forest was no longer safe.
In a dim room of the cottage sat a Goblin who looked to have a very bad temper.
Griphook.
He had been captured by Death Eaters while on the run and later rescued by Dobby.
"You want me to help you break into Gringotts?" Griphook's black eyes narrowed into slits, his sharp fingers tapping on the tabletop. "That is suicide. No one has ever succeeded."
"We need that cup," Harry said sincerely. "It is to defeat Lord Voldemort."
"I am not interested in the wars of Wizards," Griphooksneered. "Whether it is the Dark Lord or Dumbledore, you all just want to take things from Goblins."
"If... if you help us, we can pay you," Hermione said tentatively. "Gold?"
"I do not lack gold." Griphook looked at the sword of gryffindor at Harry's waist, a flash of greed in his eyes. "I want that sword. It was stolen from us Goblins by Godric Gryffindor! It is a masterpiece that belongs to Ragnuk the First!"
Harry and Ron exchanged a look. That sword was the key to destroying the Horcrux; they could not give it to him.
Just as the negotiation reached a stalemate.
Knock, knock.
The door was knocked upon.
Bill Weasley pushed the door open and came in, his expression somewhat strange. "Harry, there is a... guest. He says he is here to discuss a 'labor dispatch contract'."
Before Harry could react, Griphook jumped up, his face turning deathly pale.
"It is him... that devil..."
Morrin White walked in.
He was wearing a windproof deep blue coat, carrying that iconic black ironwood wand in his hand.
The sea breeze tousled his black hair, but could not blow away the suffocating sense of oppression emanating from him.
"It seems our negotiation has hit a bottleneck?"
Morrin smiled and walked straight over to sit opposite Griphook, completely ignoring the Goblin's hostile and fearful gaze.
"White!" Griphook gritted his teeth. "A traitor to Gringotts! It was you who sold our security blueprints to the Ministry of Magic!"
"Correction, I am Gringotts' largest depositor and security system upgrade consultant."
Morrin pulled a document from his coat; it was Gringotts' latest financial statement.
"Besides, as far as I know, ever since Lord Voldemort took control of the Ministry of Magic, life at Gringotts has not been easy. Death Eaters often rob vaults in the name of 'requisition,' and you Goblins dare not speak out."
"So what?" Griphook roared. "That is our dignity!"
"Dignity is worthless, Griphook."
Morrin pointed his black ironwood wand at the sword of gryffindor at Harry's waist:
"You want that sword? Fine. Harry can promise it to you."
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Morrin, we still need it—"
"Let me finish." Morrin interrupted Harry, his gaze fixed intently on Griphook. "Harry can promise to give you the sword 'after we are done with it.' As for when we are done with it..."
A cunning curve appeared at the corner of Morrin's mouth:
"...that depends on when Lord Voldemort dies. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps a hundred years from now. This is an option contract."
Griphook angrily wanted to slap the table, but Morrin's black ironwood wand pressed down on his hand first.
[Half-Giant Strength].
The Goblin's hand bones let out an unbearable cracking sound.
"Listen, you greedy little thing."
Morrin leaned close to Griphook, his voice low and dangerous:
"If you refuse to cooperate, Harry Potter might die. If he dies, Lord Voldemort will rule the world forever."
"And Lord Voldemort..."
Morrin pointed to the gloomy sky outside the window:
"...he is not as reasonable as I am. He will kill all the Goblins and turn Gringotts into his private vault. When that happens, forget about this sword, you won't even be able to keep a single copper Knut."
"And I am offering you another path."
Morrin produced another document—GringottsRestructuring and Goblin Rights Protection Agreement".
"As long as you help Harry get the cup and create enough chaos..."
"...I can use the excuse of'security failure and loss of credibility' to unite all major depositors to pressure Gringotts and forcibly take over the management of the bank."
"When that time comes, I will hire you, Griphook, as the Chief Operating Officer of Gringotts."
"You can take back that sword, and you can have a status ten times higher than you do now."
"Do you want to die at the hands of the Death Eaters, or do you want to be a wealthy manager in my new order?"
Griphook looked at the agreement, then at the sword in Harry's hand, and finally at Morrin's black eyes that seemed able to pierce through the human heart.
He was a Goblin; he was greedy, but he was even more shrewd.
"How do I trust you?" Griphook asked.
"You have no choice." Morrin stood up. "This is the only bet."
A long while passed.
Griphook reached out his hand with the long nails and grabbed the agreement.
"Deal." Griphook said hoarsely. "But I have one more condition."
"Speak."
"That dragon." A flash of cruelty crossed Griphook's eyes. "It is the oldest guardian of Gringotts. It is blind and has suffered endless torture. I want you to release it. Let it smash that damn hall to pieces!"
Morrin laughed.
He laughed very happily.
"What a coincidence." Morrin snapped his fingers. "That is exactly what I was thinking."
"That... I am talking about the Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon..."
The negotiation ended.
Morrin took Harry to the cliff by the sea.
"When are you planning to make your move?" Morrinasked.
"The sooner, the better." Harry looked at the raging sea. "We don't want to wait any longer."
"Very good."
Morrin pulled a scroll from his pocket and handed it to Harry.
"What is this?"
"Gringotts Underground Vault Structural Map (Top Secret Edition)."
Morrin pointed to the red lines on the map:
"These are the 'backdoors' I left behind when I was a security consultant. Although you cannot go in directly, it marks all the trap locations: the Thief's Downfall, the Gemino Curse, and the Flagrante Curse."
"Remember, Harry."
Morrin looked into Harry's eyes, his expression serious:
"This operation is not just about the cup."
"I want you to make a scene. The bigger, the better."
"It would be best if you could blow the roof off Gringottsand let that dragon fly over Diagon Alley breathing fire."
"Why?" Harry asked, confused. "It will be very hard for us to escape if we do that."
"Because only that level of chaos will allow me to take over that mess the next morning in the posture of a'savior'."
Morrin patted Harry on the shoulder, his eyes flashing with the cold, ruthless light peculiar to a capitalist:
"I have already heavily shorted Gringotts stock on the black market."
"The sound of the explosions that night will, to me, be the most beautiful music of gold coins falling into a money bag."
Harry looked at Morrin and suddenly felt a chill.
He was thinking about how to save lives, how to kill Lord Voldemort.
But Morrin...
"You really are a madman, Morrin." Harry said in a low voice.
"Thank you for the compliment."
Morrin straightened his windbreaker, which had been tousled by the sea breeze.
"Good luck, Mr. Potter. Don't die down there."
"Because if you die, I will have to go and fight Lord Voldemort for the kill myself. That is too tiring."
Morrin turned and left, disappearing into the sea mist.
Harry held the map, looking into the distance.
"Gringotts..."
He knew this would be the most dangerous challenge he had ever faced.
But what he did not know was that behind him, a huge net was already prepared to catch the falling bank.
Morrin recited silently in his heart, "Next up, the bank heist."
"And that... collectible."
Chapter 130: The Collapsing Thief's Downfall, the saviorRiding a Dragon
May 1st, deep beneath Gringotts.
The air was filled with the smell of scorched metal and stale dust.
The speeding cart took wild turns on the maze-like tracks.
Harry Potter, disguised as Bellatrix, gripped the edge tightly, clutching the "internal structure diagram" Morrinhad given him.
"The Thief's Downfall is ahead!" Harry shouted, "It's marked on Morrin's map! That's the magic that forcibly removes disguises!"
"We can't brake!" Ron, disguised as Dragomir, screamed in terror.
Splash!
The cart passed through a massive waterfall descending from above.
Icy water washed over their bodies.
All disguises failed instantly.
Hermione Granger turned back into herself, Ron Weasley's long beard disappeared, and Harry Potter was no longer Bellatrix.
"Intruders!" The Goblins responsible for driving the cart yelled in panic.
The cart flipped.
They fell heavily onto the stone slabs in front of the vault door.
Griphook was the only one who remained calm.
He stared greedily at the sword at Harry's waist.
"This is the Lestrange vault." Griphook pointed to the massive door in front of them, which had no keyhole, only a guardian monster.
A massive, scarred, blind Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon.
It was chained to the ground, trembling with fear whenever it heard clanking sounds—a conditioned reflex from abuse.
"Use the Clankers!" Griphook shouted.
Hermione Granger shook the Clankers in her hand.
The dragon let out a whimper of fear, backed away, and cleared the path.
Harry Potter rushed to the door, followed the instructions on Morrin's diagram, avoided the runes that triggered alarms, and had Griphook press his palm to open the gate.
...
Inside the vault.
It was piled high with gold coins, goblets, armor, and treasures.
But it had also been subjected to a terrifying Gemino Curse and Flagrante Curse.
Harry Potter just touched a goblet, and it instantly split into ten, and it was as hot as a red-hot iron.
"Ah!" Harry Potter pulled his hand back.
"Don't move!" Hermione Granger screamed, "We'll be buried by gold!"
"The cup! hufflepuffs cup!" Harry Potter pointed to a shelf high up.
That small cup was sitting right there.
"Is this what you're looking for?" Griphook looked at the cup, his eyes rolling, "I can help you get it. But I want the sword of gryffindor now!"
"We'll give it to you when we get out!" Harry Pottershouted.
"No! Now!" Griphook threatened, "Otherwise I'll scream and let the Death Eater outside in!"
Harry Potter gritted his teeth.
He unbuckled the sword of gryffindor and handed it to Griphook.
"Here! Take it!"
Griphook snatched the sword, his eyes shining with ecstasy.
It was a masterpiece of the Goblins! It was the legacy of Ragnuk the First! He had finally retrieved...
Wait.
Just as Griphook gripped the hilt.
If he were an Alchemist, or possessed the Gate of Truthlike Morrin, he might have noticed the extremely slight deviation in the sword's "weight".
But he was a Goblin, too greedy, too confident.
He only saw the brilliance of the rubies, not the Alchemymimicry runes hidden deep within the blade.
"It's mine!" Griphook laughed.
He didn't help Harry Potter get the cup.
He threw the Clankers in his hand at the dragon, then turned and ran, shouting as he ran:
"Thieves! There are thieves in the vault!"
"You liar!" Ron Weasley roared.
The copies in the vault were multiplying, and the scalding metal surged like a tsunami.
Harry Potter desperately used his wand to flick the cup down, the three of them yelped as they were burned, pushed toward the door by the gold.
...
Outside the Gringotts hall, on the roof of Diagon Alley.
Morrin White was sitting in a comfortable lounge chair, holding a pocket watch.
Alfred stood behind him, observing the entrance of Gringotts with binoculars.
"Time's up." Morrin White looked at the pocket watch.
"Young Master, there is a tremor from underground." Alfredreported, "The alarm has sounded."
"Very good."
Morrin White stood up and straightened his trench coat.
"That greedy Goblin should have run off with the'sword' by now."
A mocking smile curled at the corner of Morrin White's mouth:
"He thinks he snatched a priceless treasure. But he doesn't know that I added a [Timed Disintegration] Alchemycircuit to that [High-Imitation sword of gryffindor]."
"About... half an hour later? When he runs to a safe place and prepares to admire his spoils, that sword will turn into a pile of worthless mercury in his hands."
"This is a small lesson for a traitor."
Just then.
The ground beneath their feet shook violently.
The sturdy marble floor of Gringotts began to crack.
Boom—!!!
A deafening, earth-shattering roar.
The floor of the Gringotts hall exploded.
A massive, grayish-white dragon, covered in broken chains, rushed out from underground!
It was blind, but it could still feel the air of freedom.
It roared, spewing fire, flapping its wings, overturning counters, and smashing chandeliers.
And on the dragon's back, three disheveled, battered young Wizards were riding.
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.
"My God..." The Wizards on the street screamed and fled, "Gringotts has been bombed! There's a dragon!"
The Ironbelly dragon smashed through the proud dome of Gringotts, charging into the sky with a sky full of gravel and glass shards.
Harry Potter gripped the dragon scales tightly, looking back at the ruins below.
He had done it.
Although the process was tragic, he had obtained the cup.
"Morrin..." Harry Potter muttered in the wind, "This commotion... is big enough, right?"
...
In front of the ruins.
When the dragon flew away, the Death Eater and Ministry of Magic officials arrived late.
But one person was earlier than them.
Morrin White, with his heavily armed Werewolf Guard, strode into the smoke-filled hall.
The Goblins were wailing, and gold coins and documents were scattered everywhere. The bank's reputation had completely collapsed along with that hole.
"Quiet!"
Morrin White's cane struck heavily against a broken piece of marble.
magic Amplification allowed his voice to drown out all the noise.
"I am Morrin White. Gringotts' largest creditor."
Morrin White scanned the panicked Goblin executives:
"Look at the mess you've made. Robbed by three underage Wizards? Had your roof blown off by your own guard dog? Is this the 'absolute safety' you promised?"
"You have breached the contract."
Morrin White took out a thick [Asset Mortgage Agreement].
"According to Article 73 of the 'Emergency Takeover Act'. Given that Gringotts management is no longer capable of maintaining the bank's normal operations..."
"...I announce that, effective immediately, White Investment Company will fully take over Gringotts' security."
"If you object..."
Morrin White pointed to the group of Werewolves behind him, holding Alchemy firearms with fierce eyes:
"...You can talk to my Security Director, Lupin."
The Goblins looked at each other.
They had lost the dragon, lost the sword (the one Griphooktook), and now they were losing the bank.
But in the face of absolute force and the threat of bankruptcy, they had no choice.
"We... accept." An old Goblin lowered his head dejectedly.
"Very good."
Morrin White turned and looked at the huge hole smashed by the dragon.
"Alfred."
"Yes, Young Master."
"That is my dragon." Morrin White pointed to the shrinking black dot in the sky, "Although it has flown away now, I have already left a backdoor in its collar."
"It will get tired of flying. When it lands..."
A hint of greed flashed in Morrin White's eyes:
"...Send a transport team to bring it home. My manor happens to be missing a mascot to guard the house."
"Also..."
Morrin White looked in the direction Harry Potter had disappeared.
"...The cup is in hand. There are only two Horcrux left: Nagini, Harry."
"The moment of the final battle has arrived."
Morrin White took out the two-way mirror:
"Notify Principal Snape. Tell him..."
"...the savior will return to Hogwarts soon."
"Tell him to prepare that 'final story'. And... tell him not to die."
"After all, he is my employee."