Erwin took one final look at Ragnok's corpse lying on the cold stone floor. Shaking his head slightly, he moved toward the dragon's reinforced enclosure. With a swift spell, he released the captive creature, granting it freedom after years of brutal imprisonment.
Walking out into Gringotts' main hall, Erwin found the floor covered with bodies, the air thick with the coppery scent of spilled blood. He stood motionless in the center of the carnage for a long moment, releasing a heavy sigh.
One general's success is built upon ten thousand bones. This was the path he had chosen—a landscape constructed from mountains of the dead and rivers flowing with blood. He had understood this intellectually, but confronting the visceral reality still troubled his conscience.
He wasn't a heartless machine, nor did he lack fundamental human feeling. More significantly, Erwin knew today was merely the beginning. If reincarnation existed, he would likely face a thousand calamities in his next life for the actions he'd taken today. But he'd had no alternative. The goblins were effectively extinct now—the few survivors elsewhere would amount to nothing more than scattered refugees, powerless and broken.
Erwin stepped through the shattered entrance of Gringotts. The streets were packed with wizards who had gathered upon hearing the commotion. He glanced back at the building's imposing facade, remembering his first visit to the vaults years ago. He'd never imagined standing here as the architect of Gringotts' destruction.
His amethyst wand appeared in his hand with a flick of his wrist. He swept it forward decisively. A powerful curse slammed into the legendary bronze doors, shattering them with a thunderous crash that echoed through Diagon Alley.
"Tom," Erwin commanded, his voice steady and authoritative. "Organize systematic inventory of all vaults. Return property to rightful owners wherever possible. As for abandoned vaults and those without identifiable heirs—the Cavendish family will establish a charitable fund, cooperating with our existing business network to provide aid to wizards in genuine need. Whether adults seeking opportunities or students requiring educational support, anyone meeting reasonable criteria may apply for assistance."
Old Tom nodded. This had been part of the strategic plan from the beginning—it came as no surprise to him.
The crowd of assembled wizards gasped collectively. They understood exactly how vast Gringotts' accumulated wealth was, and the sheer magnitude of resources Erwin was pledging to redistribute.
Professor McGonagall and the other Heads of House watched with evident satisfaction. Whatever Erwin's underlying motives might be, this public commitment justified their assistance today.
Erwin approached the prominent figures he had specifically invited to witness the operation. "Thank you for your invaluable assistance today."
They waved off his gratitude with practiced humility. "No thanks necessary, Lord Cavendish. We were simply fulfilling our duty."
"The goblins had gone far beyond acceptable boundaries," another agreed firmly. "They brought this outcome upon themselves."
"The Cavendish family has restored proper order to our community," a third added with approval.
Erwin inclined his head respectfully. "I only did what circumstances demanded. Without your support, this intervention would have been considerably more difficult."
The carefully calibrated flattery worked perfectly. The assembled wizards visibly swelled with pride and satisfaction. After exchanging several more polite pleasantries, they began dispersing to spread word of what they'd witnessed. The Cavendish wizards and pure-blood family representatives departed shortly afterward.
Finally, Erwin approached the four Heads of House, who had remained behind.
"Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Godfather. Thank you for coming when I needed you."
Flitwick and Sprout smiled warmly at him. McGonagall stepped forward, reaching up to smooth Erwin's slightly disheveled hair with maternal affection. "You've shouldered a heavy burden today, my boy. I never fully realized how audacious the goblins had become. If you hadn't been thoroughly prepared, this could have ended catastrophically."
Erwin's expression sobered. "Those of different species cannot ultimately share our interests, Professor. Even with the ancient treaties binding them, their greed would inevitably have led to more serious transgressions. It was fortunate we acted decisively, before they could precipitate a major crisis."
McGonagall nodded slowly, processing the implications. "I suppose you're right. Does this mean the British wizarding community can finally achieve some stability?"
She looked at him meaningfully, and Erwin understood the deeper question. "Yes, Professor. The major disruptions should be concluded. Speaking of which, the Hogwarts term begins soon. I'm genuinely looking forward to returning."
"As am I," McGonagall replied with a warm chuckle. "In a few days, the school owls will deliver your supply list and course materials. Don't forget to acquire everything you'll need."
Erwin offered a slight bow. "Of course, Professor. I'm no longer the unprepared first-year student who arrived with nothing."
"Indeed not," McGonagall agreed fondly, gesturing at his height. "Back then, you only came up to here. Now you're nearly as tall as I am."
"I expect I'll match your height before the winter holidays," Erwin responded with a genuine grin.
McGonagall patted his shoulder affectionately. "I look forward to witnessing that. We should be going now—we've all had quite enough excitement for one day."
With synchronized cracks of Apparition, the three professors departed, grateful for the transportation privileges Erwin had specifically granted them. It was infinitely more convenient than relying on Dumbledore's complex authorization protocols.
Erwin turned to Snape, who had remained behind. "Godfather, would you join me for a meal? I think we've earned it."
Snape hesitated only briefly. "Very well. Let's go."
In a private dining room within the Cavendish ancestral mansion, they sat at a table laden with expertly prepared dishes. Erwin didn't stand on ceremony—he began eating with genuine appetite, bowl of rice in one hand and chopsticks moving efficiently in the other.
A rare expression of tenderness crossed Snape's usually stern features. "Eat more slowly. You'll choke at that pace."
Erwin swallowed his current mouthful. "Godfather, you have no idea how exhausting today was. These political maneuvers take a genuine toll, even when they succeed perfectly."
Snape placed a choice piece of meat into Erwin's bowl. "Next time, delegate more of the burden to me. I can handle the unpleasant work."
Erwin's chuckle lacked genuine humor. "There won't be a 'next time' quite like this, Godfather. Today was essentially a controlled skirmish. The real life-or-death struggles are still ahead of us. You'll need to exercise extreme caution then—it won't be as straightforward as today's operation."
Snape's eyes hardened with fierce resolve. "Then I'll clear every obstacle from your path. Whatever stands in your way will fall before you reach it."
Erwin paused, chopsticks hovering mid-air. His voice became serious and direct. "Godfather, if genuine danger emerges... promise me something. Your survival comes first. Always prioritize your own life."