[Marvel's Hogwarts Professor] Chapter 461 - 465

Chapter 461

Night, Hogwarts

Under the vast, star-strewn sky, Dumbledore stood at the pinnacle of Hogwarts Castle. His gaze was fixed upward, taking in the brilliance of the stars scattered like precious gems across the midnight canvas. The chill of the night air carried a somber stillness, reflecting the emotions stirring within him.

Tomorrow, he would journey to the United States to lend his aid to the Magical Congress. Officially, it was a mission of support, but Dumbledore understood the truth—it was an opportunity to step away from the storm brewing within the British wizarding world.

The thought unsettled him. As Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the idea of leaving his home during such turbulent times weighed heavily on his conscience.

Yet, the war was inevitable, and the goblins' involvement complicated matters further. Dumbledore sighed, his hand lightly massaging his temple as if to ease the dull ache forming there.

Initially, he had believed that dealing with two versions of Tom Riddle—Voldemort in his prime and the fragmented remnant—would be his greatest challenge. But the goblins’ brewing rebellion had introduced an entirely new layer of complexity.

Tom’s machinations, for all their destructiveness, were internal disputes within the wizarding community. The goblins, however, posed a far greater threat, turning this conflict into a full-scale racial war.

Logically, the best course of action would be to join forces and suppress the goblins' uprising. But the thought of leading the Order of the Phoenix and Hogwarts into a blood-soaked conflict filled Dumbledore with revulsion.

Mass killings… involving the students, the professors… dragging the castle’s legacy into this mess? No. I cannot.

If it came to that, Dumbledore feared he wouldn’t even recognize himself anymore.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he took a deep breath and reminded himself of his upcoming tasks: meeting the goblin delegation, attending to the Magical Congress in America, and conversing with Gellert Grindelwald once more.

After that, he hoped things would return to some semblance of normalcy.

I am old now, Dumbledore mused, a wry smile crossing his lips. The more I intervene, the more the younger generation resents me. Perhaps it is time to let them take the reins. Wisdom comes with age, but so too does the realization of when to step back.

He extended his hand, and a soft lavender light appeared on his palm. A delicate, glowing seed floated there—a Dream Seed, humming faintly with magical energy.

Standing tall, Dumbledore began to draw upon the power of Hogwarts itself.

In the skies above the castle, motes of light began to emerge. Dark red, light green, indigo, and other brilliant hues danced against the darkness, forming patterns like a celestial tapestry.

The shifting lights gradually took shape: a brave lion, a wise eagle, a cunning serpent, and a loyal badger. Other images followed—scenes of wizards brewing potions, taming magical creatures, and delving into arcane research.

Dumbledore’s eyes softened as he gazed upon the spectacle, a nostalgic smile forming. Yet, the memory of Cornelius Fudge's recent behavior weighed on him, and his expression dimmed with a sigh.

The lights coalesced, streaming toward the Dream Seed in his hand. With a flash of brilliance, they vanished, leaving the headmaster standing alone atop the castle, the seed pulsating faintly in his grasp.

A new Dream World had been born.

Secret Space, Kamar-Taj

In a secluded magical realm, Kamar-Taj thrived as a haven of mysticism and learning. Its landscapes were breathtaking: to the east, a dense forest echoed with the calls of birds and the rustling of unseen creatures. The west held an endless ocean where seagulls soared and dolphins leaped gracefully through the waves. If one were fortunate, they might even glimpse the majestic movements of whales.

North and south offered their own splendor—towering mountains, serene lakes, and rolling grasslands, each alive with natural beauty.

At the center of this wondrous expanse stood a remarkable array of buildings. Castles of European design stood alongside ancient palaces, oriental bamboo teahouses, and even Egyptian pyramids. At first glance, the architecture seemed chaotic, but closer inspection revealed an unexpected harmony, a beauty born of diversity.

This was Kamar-Taj, a magical institution envisioned and meticulously designed by Gilderoy Lockhart and a team of talented architects. Initially established as a school for magic, it had grown into something much greater—a thriving organization of wizards.

In a grand hall near the eastern side of the compound, two wizard apprentices were engaged in conversation.

“John, how many spells have you mastered now? Want to team up for a mission? We can earn some good credits,” a young wizard suggested eagerly.

John, a cautious apprentice, shook his head. “Not yet. I want to perfect my Disarming Charm first. Going out now feels premature.”

Undeterred, the young wizard turned to another apprentice seated nearby. “Fox, what about you? Want to join me? The rewards for this mission are significant. With enough credits, you could be promoted to a second-class apprentice.”

Daniel Fox hesitated, the offer tempting him. He had come to Kamar-Taj with expectations of traditional magic education: structured lessons, professors guiding students step by step. Reality, however, had been far more unconventional.

Kamar-Taj employed Dream Worlds and Dream Spirits for instruction. Students spent credits to access these dreamscapes, where they could practice and learn magic in immersive simulations. Exceptional performance or extra credits could even earn one-on-one sessions with skilled wizard professors—or, in rare cases, Lockhart himself.

In this system, credits were the ultimate currency. They determined access to resources, accommodations, and opportunities. Lockhart’s vision of a credit-based hierarchy ensured fairness while fostering competition and motivation among students.

Apprentices were ranked into three levels, with the first level receiving the most privileges. Advancement required not only skill but also effort, encouraging every student to strive for excellence.

Fox weighed his options, considering the merits of the mission. Before he could respond, a commotion erupted in the hall.

“Big news!” a student exclaimed. “Senior Ian has posted a high-reward, low-risk mission. He’s looking for over twenty participants. It’s a long-term task, but he’s allowing consultation on magic during the mission!”

Chapter 462

Morning, Gringotts

In Diagon Alley, the streets were alive with activity. The constant bustle of people, the chatter of wizards, and the colorful displays from various shops filled the air. Everywhere you looked, there was something to catch the eye—a wizard here with a bag of potions ingredients, a witch there perusing the latest magical tomes. Some wizards wandered aimlessly, inspecting various items for sale, while others marched toward specific stores with determined steps, emerging moments later with boxes or parcels in hand.

This was the heart of the British wizarding world, where no shop lacked customers. The alley was a reflection of prosperity, the pulse of magical commerce.

From above, one would easily spot the most prominent building: a towering white structure that resembled a palace, its sharp spires reaching for the sky. This was Gringotts, the one and only magical bank of the British wizarding world.

Before the grand bronze doors stood a pair of goblin guards in crimson uniforms, their attire adorned with gold inlays. As each wizard approached, they would bow slightly, a gesture of respect that was both a sign of etiquette and a reminder of Gringotts' formidable status.

Behind them was a silver door, its surface etched with an ominous inscription:

"Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.."

The blood-red words glowed eerily on the silver door, a stark warning to all who might dare to enter with malicious intent.

At this moment, the goblin guards were on edge, their postures stiff with nervous anticipation. Across from them stood a group of wizards dressed in striking yellow robes, the emblem of Kamar Taj clearly visible on their uniforms.

The sight of the students, led by Headmaster Ian and the witch Wanda, caused an unmistakable tension in the air. The group, comprised of ten experienced students and fifteen freshmen, stood in neat formation, waiting outside the doors of Gringotts without entering.

The presence of the Kamar Taj group had drawn curious glances from other wizards, and whispers spread through the crowd. Kamar Taj had recently risen to fame after its students had fought alongside the Order of the Phoenix against Death Eaters, and its leader, Headmaster Lockhart, had made a name for himself by confronting the Dark Lord himself and even forcing him to retreat. The school's reputation had skyrocketed, making it a symbol of elite wizardry.

The goblins had never been particularly fond of the idea of a new magical institution taking such a prominent place in the wizarding world, but they could not deny the power Kamar Taj now wielded. The resourceful Lockhart had ensured his school’s success with an unprecedented early victory.

The sight of the group standing in front of Gringotts made the goblins nervous. Although their presence was not one of confrontation, the weight of their reputation still made the guards uneasy.

In response to the group’s arrival, Goblin Supervisor Stout quickly dispatched a messenger to alert the higher-ups about the situation. It wasn’t long before a goblin in a black suit appeared, hurrying to meet the group. He wiped sweat from his brow and bowed quickly, his voice filled with apology.

“I am truly sorry for the delay,” he said to Ian, the leader of the group. “We were expecting you sooner. Headmaster Lockhart sent us a message in advance. We’re glad to assist.”

The goblin supervisor's words, however, took a somber tone. “Are you certain you want to take everything out of Gringotts? I must remind you that Gringotts is one of the safest places in the wizarding world. The treasury of Hogwarts itself resides here, and we are fully capable of safeguarding Kamar Taj’s assets.”

Ian, with a calm but resolute expression, shook his head slightly. “I’m afraid this is a direct order from our Headmaster,” he said firmly. “We must retrieve everything stored in Gringotts and bring it back to Kamar Taj.”

At those words, Stout’s expression shifted from polite consideration to evident regret. The assets Lockhart had stored in Gringotts were extensive, including large quantities of gold galleons, magical items, and rare books. The sheer volume had caused envy among the goblins, and the promise of a generous annual storage fee had alleviated their earlier doubts.

But now, hearing that all the resources would be transferred elsewhere, Stout could not hide his disappointment. The goblins had been entrusted with the task of protecting these valuable items without receiving a single storage fee, as per Lockhart’s arrangement. The realization that they had worked for months without reward made the loss even more difficult to bear.

What a foolish oversight, Stout thought bitterly. I should have secured better terms from the beginning. All this effort, and for what?

Realizing he was being caught in his own thoughts, Stout quickly cleared his throat and addressed Ian. “Please, follow me. We will begin the asset transfer process immediately.”

With that, the group of wizards followed Stout deeper into Gringotts. As they passed through the second bronze gate and into the second silver door, the freshmen’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of the ominous inscription on the door. The blood-red letters, though striking, barely phased them, their experiences in the Dream World of Kamar Taj giving them a much broader perspective than most wizards.

As they entered the marble hall, they were greeted by the sight of long counters, each staffed with goblins working diligently. Some were engrossed in their ledger books, others attended to wizards in line. The hall was abuzz with activity, and the group moved through it with purpose.

Stout led them to an empty counter and motioned for the group to take a seat. The goblins working there, upon seeing their arrival, quickly stood at attention.

“Your Excellency Ian, Ms. Wanda, the asset handover process for Kamar Taj will take place here,” Stout said, his voice filled with professionalism despite the undercurrent of regret.

He turned to the goblins standing behind the counter. “Ruda, this is a special case. You must be thorough and diligent in handling the asset transfer for Kamar Taj.”

Ruda, a seasoned goblin, nodded firmly. “Understood, Supervisor. I will ensure everything is in order.”

As the transfer process began, the group settled into a waiting routine. However, just as things seemed to be progressing smoothly, a goblin in yellow rushed toward Stout, his face stricken with urgency.

“Supervisor!” the goblin exclaimed in a hushed tone. “Something has gone terribly wrong. There’s an issue with the gold galleons in Kamar Taj’s vault!”

Chapter 463

The world seemed to spin. The sky swirled, sounds distorted, and the weight of an impending disaster pressed down like a storm cloud. Goblin Supervisor Stout felt a sense of vertigo for the first time in his life.

Something had gone wrong with the gold galleons.

His mind reeled at the implications. Hundreds of thousands of galleons, forged? Impossible! Yet the urgency in the goblin messenger’s voice left no room for doubt.

Glancing nervously at Ian, who stood nearby with a calm yet commanding presence, Stout leaned in toward the goblin who had delivered the report. “What exactly is going on?” he demanded in a hurried whisper. “What went wrong?”

The reporting goblin, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation, spoke quickly but quietly. “During the inspection of Kamar Taj’s assets, a significant number of gold galleons were flagged. They appear to be counterfeit—highly convincing forgeries.”

Stout’s eyes widened, and his heart sank. He swallowed hard, his mind racing. “Is it only the Kamar Taj vault that’s affected? Or are there issues with other vaults nearby?”

The messenger hesitated before replying, his tone even more grave. “Director, this issue isn’t isolated to Kamar Taj’s vault. Other vaults are showing signs of forged galleons as well, though not in such alarming quantities.”

“What about the goblin who inspected the Kamar Taj vault last time? Bring them to me. I need to know how this went unnoticed!” Stout’s voice was sharp with urgency.

“The inspections from before appeared thorough,” the messenger explained. “The goblin in charge swears there were no mistakes during their review. But…” He paused, his voice dropping lower. “The forgery is of such high quality that it would take 30 goblins working together to uncover it under normal circumstances. If not for the sheer quantity—300,000 coins—we might have missed it again.”

Stout felt the room tilt as dizziness overcame him. The number was staggering.

The goblin messenger added with hesitation, “Supervisor, this discovery raises even more troubling questions. How many counterfeit coins have already leaked into the wizarding world through Gringotts?”

The weight of the situation pressed down on Stout like a physical force. He closed his eyes, the ramifications swirling in his mind. The counterfeit coins posed not just an economic risk but also an existential threat to Gringotts’ reputation and monopoly over wizarding currency.

For centuries, Gringotts and its affiliated goblin organizations had built their status and power on the unassailable credibility of their gold galleons. A breach of this magnitude jeopardized everything. If someone had perfected a method to produce indistinguishable forgeries, it would undermine Gringotts’ authority, influence, and trust.

This could destroy us, Stout thought, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The implications were catastrophic. Counterfeit currency flooding the market could destabilize the economy, but worse, it could lead to a loss of faith in Gringotts itself. Without that trust, Gringotts’ very foundation would crumble.

Misfortunes never come alone, Stout thought bitterly. First, the chaos among American goblins, and now this. The goblin supervisor forced himself to focus, years of experience guiding him through the crisis.

He turned to the goblins stationed at the counter and issued orders in a low voice. “There’s been an unforeseen development. Do not mention the gold galleons to anyone. Focus on the potions, magical items, and other assets for now. Begin the transfer process immediately.”

The goblins nodded, quickly returning to their tasks. One of them began reading from a ledger, detailing Kamar Taj’s holdings. “As per Gringotts’ records, the vault contains 145 magical books, 1,573 bottles of potions, and 378 enchanted weapons.”

Ian listened with quiet intensity, his sharp gaze betraying no emotion. Even so, the sheer wealth of resources held by Kamar Taj was staggering. It spoke volumes about the preparedness and vision of Lockhart, the headmaster and architect of Kamar Taj’s success.

Following protocol, goblins began retrieving the items from the vault. As each artifact was brought forth, Ian called several students forward to assist with inspections, using the opportunity as a teaching moment.

Among those summoned was Daniel Fox, one of Kamar Taj’s newer students. This was his first time in Diagon Alley, his first encounter with goblins, and his first step into the grandeur of Gringotts. Everything felt surreal, the novelty of the experience captivating him.

Daniel approached eagerly, following Ian’s instructions. Despite the seemingly mundane nature of the task, he recognized its significance. Even so, a part of him couldn’t help but feel the rewards for this mission far outweighed the effort required.

As the students meticulously examined the items, the goblin messengers returned to Stout, providing updates on the counterfeit currency investigation. Each report was grimmer than the last.

The counterfeit coins were not limited to Kamar Taj’s vault. Their numbers were climbing, now estimated at over 500,000—nearly one-twentieth of the gold galleons circulating in the British wizarding economy.

Half a million coins, Stout thought, his steps quickening as he paced nervously. The implications were dire. If these coins entered the wizarding market, they would become indistinguishable from real currency. Worse, the individuals behind the forgeries would be emboldened to produce more.

Inflation, soaring prices, and economic instability would follow. But the greater danger lay in the erosion of Gringotts’ credibility. If the wizarding community lost faith in their currency, the consequences would spiral out of control.

Stout wiped his brow again, the enormity of the situation weighing heavily on him. How did this happen? How did we not detect this sooner?

The supervisor’s thoughts were interrupted as Ian and Wanda approached, having completed their inspection of the magical items. Ian’s expression was calm but firm as he addressed Stout.

“The next step is the transfer of 300,000 gold galleons,” Ian said in a low but steady voice. “Headmaster Lockhart specifically instructed me to ensure all of it is brought back to Kamar Taj. These funds are critical for upcoming plans.”

Chapter 464

More than 300,000 gold galleons.

The number was staggering, a mountain of wealth that symbolized power, influence, and endless possibilities. Yet, for Goblin Supervisor Stout, that enormous sum represented something far more dangerous—a crisis that could shake the very foundations of Gringotts.

Behind the pristine walls of the wizarding bank, Stout wrestled with his growing dread. He knew the truth: nearly half of the galleons in Kamar Taj’s vault were counterfeit. The forgery was masterful, nearly indistinguishable from the genuine coins. But the implications of handing these coins over to Kamar Taj were chilling.

If they handed over the counterfeit galleons without disclosure, the wizards of Kamar Taj might not notice immediately. However, the moment they used these coins to purchase items and materials, the truth would come to light.

And when it did, Gringotts would be at the center of the storm.

Kamar Taj was no ordinary wizarding organization. With Lockhart at its helm—a man who had dueled the Dark Lord and held powerful alliances with both Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic—their reach extended far and wide. If Kamar Taj discovered the deception, they wouldn’t simply demand restitution; they could destroy Gringotts' reputation in the process.

Even worse, once these counterfeit coins circulated back into Gringotts, the bank would face an impossible choice. Recognize them as legitimate currency, and the counterfeiters would gain free rein to undermine their operations. Refuse them, and Gringotts would expose the magnitude of the problem, risking the ire of both the wizarding community and the Ministry of Magic.

For centuries, Gringotts had operated independently, free from direct Ministry control. But if this scandal erupted, the Ministry would seize the opportunity to tighten its grip.

The thought sent a shiver down Stout’s spine. His legs felt weak as he realized the full scope of the crisis bearing down on them.

This is no ordinary problem, he thought, his mind racing. This is a catastrophe waiting to happen.

“Director Stout, please inform the goblin in charge of the vault that we are ready to retrieve the remaining gold galleons,” Ian’s calm voice cut through Stout’s spiraling thoughts. Though his tone was gentle, there was an unyielding firmness beneath it.

Stout forced a smile, nodding quickly. “Of course, of course,” he stammered. “But, uh, the sheer amount of galleons is enormous. The counting process is still ongoing.”

He gestured toward the reception area, his voice taking on a placating tone. “Why don’t you and your students rest in the reception room for a while? Have some water. I’ll personally oversee the process to ensure everything is expedited.”

Ian’s sharp eyes lingered on Stout for a moment before he responded with a polite smile. “We’ll wait here,” he said firmly. “But please, do hurry. If there are any issues, we can assist with our own identification magic.”

The words were simple, but their implications were not lost on Stout. Ian was offering help, but it was also a subtle warning. Kamar Taj’s wizards were capable of uncovering the truth if there was any hint of deception.

The goblin supervisor felt sweat bead on his forehead as he nodded and turned away, retreating toward the deeper sections of Gringotts. His mind churned with desperation as he tried to devise a solution.

As Stout disappeared from view, Ian exchanged a glance with Wanda. The pair of senior wizards stood unwavering, their composed presence a stark contrast to the nervous goblins bustling around them.

Behind them, the students of Kamar Taj whispered among themselves. This was their first exposure to such a high-stakes environment, and the weight of their mentor’s reputation loomed over them. Daniel Fox, standing near the front, felt a mix of awe and curiosity.

“Why do you think the goblins are acting so strange?” one student murmured.

Fox shrugged but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The goblins were nervous—more than they should be for what seemed like a routine transfer.

Deep in Gringotts, Stout paced back and forth in his office, his nerves fraying with each passing moment. The counterfeit coins were a problem unlike anything he’d ever encountered.

How could this have happened? he thought furiously.

Gringotts was supposed to be impenetrable. Every material used to mint galleons was tightly monitored, every process rigorously overseen. Yet here he was, facing the undeniable reality that someone—likely a traitor—had infiltrated their ranks.

The forgeries were too perfect, the volume too large. It wasn’t the work of an outsider; it had to be an inside job.

Stout clenched his fists. The idea of treachery within Gringotts filled him with anger, but he forced himself to focus. The immediate priority was damage control.

Before Stout could finalize a plan, a sharp voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Director Stout, I presume?”

Stout turned to see a witch in garish pink robes standing before him. Her saccharine smile and the badge pinned to her chest marked her unmistakably as Dolores Umbridge.

“I am Dolores Umbridge, Deputy Minister of Magic,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. Behind her stood over a dozen stern-faced Aurors. She held up a parchment, its official Ministry seal gleaming in the light.

“By order of Minister Fudge, I am here to retrieve certain assets previously stored by the Ministry in Gringotts.”

Stout’s stomach dropped as he scanned the document. The amount listed was staggering—another blow to an already precarious situation.

Meanwhile, in the depths of Gringotts, the Goblin Elder Harmon convened an emergency meeting. The conference room was tense, the air thick with unspoken accusations.

“Who can explain this counterfeit money fiasco?” Harmon’s voice thundered, his fist slamming onto the table. The goblins seated before him flinched but said nothing, their heads bowed in silence.

“What do you all think Gringotts’ foundation is built upon?” Harmon continued, his voice rising. “Do you understand what’s at stake if this gets out? Our entire reputation—our very existence—depends on the integrity of our currency!”

The room remained deathly quiet, the assembled goblins too afraid to speak.

Harmon sighed, his anger giving way to weary frustration. “I know some of you have engaged in… minor indiscretions. Borrowing from vaults, cutting corners. I’ve turned a blind eye to these small matters, so long as they were corrected. But this—this is no small matter. This is treason against Gringotts itself.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping the room. “We are in extraordinary times. The goblins in America are already on the brink of exposure. If we falter now, the consequences will be catastrophic.”

His tone shifted, adopting a harder edge. “And don’t think the wizards will sit idly by. Dumbledore has gone to America, but if this crisis escalates, they won’t hesitate to turn their magic on us. Do you want to be the reason Gringotts falls?”

The room erupted into murmurs as Harmon’s words struck fear into the hearts of the gathered goblins.

Chapter 465

“Stout, you’ve read the order from the Ministry of Magic,” Umbridge said, her voice dripping with arrogance. She addressed the goblin supervisor as though speaking to a servant, her words laced with condescension. “Start counting immediately. The Ministry has urgent needs.”

Though she was puzzled by the Minister’s sudden decision to retrieve the Ministry’s assets from Gringotts, she didn’t question it. The transfer order had been signed and sealed, and her task was merely to enforce it.

In truth, Minister Fudge’s actions were driven by fear. Upon hearing rumors of trouble brewing among the goblins, his first thought was to secure his own wealth. If war broke out, any assets left in Gringotts could fall into enemy hands, turning his fortune into little more than a memory.

However, his advisor Scrimgeour had urged caution. Acting too openly could draw unwanted attention, especially since the Ministry’s sudden withdrawal coincided with Karma Taj’s request to retrieve their own assets. Fudge reluctantly agreed to temper his actions but saw an opportunity to use Karma Taj’s withdrawal as cover for his own.

Still, Fudge couldn’t help but grumble privately about Lockhart’s audacity. The man had outmaneuvered him yet again, taking advantage of the situation to secure all of Kamar Taj’s assets under the guise of preparing for future endeavors.

Director Stout stared at the parchment in his hands, the staggering amounts listed on it making his head spin.

The Ministry of Magic was now demanding the withdrawal of the majority of its assets—just as Karma Taj was doing. The timing was too coincidental to ignore.

Stout stepped forward, his tone tinged with both concern and pleading. “Ms. Umbridge, might I ask what has prompted this sudden move? Why was no prior notice given? Is the Ministry of Magic intending to terminate its cooperation with Gringotts?”

He hesitated before continuing, “If that’s the case, how does the Ministry plan to manage salaries, procurement, and other financial operations without our services?”

Gringotts was far more than a vault for gold and magical items. Its cooperation with the Ministry of Magic extended to payroll, cross-border transfers, and countless other financial operations. Losing the Ministry as a client would be disastrous—not just for Gringotts but for the stability of the entire wizarding economy.

And then there was the matter of the counterfeit coins. If the Ministry’s vaults contained forged galleons, this withdrawal could escalate the crisis to unmanageable levels.

Umbridge, unimpressed by Stout’s concerns, gave him a sickly sweet smile, the kind that barely concealed her disdain. “You’re overthinking things, Stout,” she said with mock reassurance. “The Ministry has no intention of ending its partnership with Gringotts. This is simply a matter of urgency. The Minister has ordered a temporary reallocation of resources to address immediate needs.”

Stout’s expression softened slightly, though the anxiety in his eyes remained. “But withdrawing such a large amount will disrupt operations. How will the Ministry pay its employees and maintain essential services?”

“Do not fret,” Umbridge replied, her tone patronizing. “Eighty percent of the Ministry’s gold galleons will be withdrawn, but we’re leaving enough to cover salaries and basic expenses. Should the need arise, we’ll deposit additional funds in due course.”

Stout took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. His mind raced as he processed Umbridge’s words. Was this truly about addressing urgent needs, or was there something more sinister at play?

Meanwhile, in the main hall of Gringotts, Ian, Wanda, and the students of Kamar Taj continued to stand their ground. Their disciplined formation and confident demeanor drew curious glances from every wizard who entered the bank.

Many whispered among themselves, marveling at the impressive display. Even the youngest Kamar Taj students exuded an aura of professionalism that rivaled that of seasoned Aurors.

Wanda, however, was growing impatient. Her legs ached from standing, and the anticipation of the next phase of their plan only fueled her restlessness.

She leaned toward Ian, her voice low. “When do we start the next phase?” she asked, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

Ian glanced at the time, his expression calm. “Soon,” he replied. He understood the stakes of their mission and the importance of precise timing.

After a moment, he turned to the students and made a subtle gesture.

Deep within Gringotts, Stout led Umbridge to a quiet corner, producing a white space-extension bag and discreetly handing it to her. The bag jingled faintly with the sound of coins, its contents a private offering meant to curry favor.

“Ms. Umbridge,” he said softly, “this timing feels… peculiar. Kamar Taj is also retrieving all their assets today. Is there something we should know?”

Umbridge opened the bag slightly, her expression brightening as she glimpsed the gold galleons within. Satisfied, she leaned closer and lowered her voice.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she said, her tone conspiratorial. “But as a gesture of goodwill between the Ministry and Gringotts, I’ll share what I can. We’ve received intelligence that the Dark Lord is planning a major move. The Ministry, Hogwarts, Kamar Taj—even Gringotts itself—could be targets.”

She paused for dramatic effect. “Everything we’re doing now is to prepare for war. Once the situation stabilizes, things will return to normal.”

Stout nodded, though unease churned in his gut. While Umbridge’s explanation was plausible, something about it felt off.

In the hall, Ian stood motionless, observing the room. The tension was palpable, though most of the gathered wizards seemed unaware of the undercurrents at play.

Finally, Ian spoke. “It’s time,” he said quietly.

At his signal, the Kamar Taj wizards sprang into action. Ian raised his hands, his fingers weaving intricate patterns as he channeled his magic. The air seemed to hum with energy as spiritual power surged outward, forming invisible links between the wizards.

The goblins and other wizards in the hall froze, their chests tightening as a sudden, overwhelming pressure filled the space.

Beside Ian, Wanda’s hands glowed red as she clasped them together, her voice rising in a resonant chant.

“In the name of Headmaster Lockhart of Kamar Taj!” she proclaimed, her words echoing like a chorus of voices. “The vault is opened, and the property is recalled!”