Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

Meanwhile, Hermione, standing on tiptoe and craning her neck to get a better look, gasped in disbelief. Her eyes widened as her expression turned into one of utter astonishment.

"Oh! Heavens! Gringotts really is yours!"

Clearly, she'd 'figured' something out.

"Uh…" Ian blinked in surprise and glanced at Hermione.

That face… he had only seen it in the mirror after taking an age-enhancing potion. He hadn't expected Hermione to recognize it so quickly.

"Is that your ancestor?"

'…Okay. So Hermione's recognition skills weren't entirely accurate.'

But before Ian could reply, the mustached goblin overheard the young witch's words and immediately had a panic attack.

"Gringotts belongs to us goblins! Only the portrait on the Galleons belongs to the Supreme Sorcerer Medivh… and his descendants!"

When he said this, the mustached goblin still sneaked a cautious glance at Ian. He wasn't entirely free of fear, far from it, but goblin instinct compelled him to correct Hermione.

"…"

Ian felt deeply disappointed.

He had thought he had somehow seized the minting rights to wizarding gold, only to find out it was just the right to the portrait on the coins. That left him somewhat confused.

"So… Future me didn't want ownership of the mint or the gold itself, but the rights to the coin's image? What's the point of that?"

Ian could only make the most irrational but strangely plausible guess: "Maybe I really am a genius. I created something from nothing, discovered a divine path that doesn't even belong to this world."

He was already wondering… with how much he enjoyed "digging up graves," would he one day end up unearthing his own nine tombs?

In one of those crossover Lovecraftian-style novels he'd read before this world, a path to godhood did involve something like this, but Ian felt doing something that insane in the Harry Potter world was just… absurd.

While Ian pondered whether the gold could be used to gather faith or belief, Hermione was off on a different tangent. The Muggle-born girl, freshly introduced to the wizarding world, was still fascinated by all things mysterious.

"Is that a slave mark in the wizarding world?"

Hermione's emotional intelligence at this stage could be… questionable. She just blurted it out, staring at the claw-shaped mark on the mustached goblin's forehead, recalling something she'd read in a miscellaneous book earlier.

"…"

The mustached goblin looked incredibly awkward.

Ian, however, silently gave Hermione a mental thumbs up.

He'd wanted to ask the same thing, but his assumed identity kept him from speaking too freely.

'Who would've thought, in a world without the Internet, he'd still find someone to say the things he couldn't?'

"Don't be so rude, Hermione," Ian even took the opportunity to play the "good cop."

He suddenly understood why villains always liked having a talkative sidekick.

"Sorry! That was out of line," Hermione quickly bowed and apologized to the goblin.

"Young lady! You're definitely going into the nastiest House!" The mustached goblin huffed, glaring at Hermione indignantly before hastily explaining himself to Ian.

"It's true that a group of goblins once signed a labor contract with the Supreme Sorcerer Medivh that involved no pay. But that contract only bought our bodies, generation after generation!"

"It didn't include our souls! Nor our treasures! Nor our gold!"

This was a classic goblin behavior, on full display. This one sure knew how to phrase things carefully.

"We are nothing like those filthy, lowly house-elves!"

As the saying goes, the guiltier you are, the more you insist on drawing a distinction. This goblin's current attitude made that perfectly clear.

"Got it." Ian respected the goblin's conviction.

He wasn't planning to invoke any master-servant contract just yet anyway. The house-elves at Hogwarts were far more obedient and hardworking than goblins.

Even though goblins and house-elves might share some genetic ancestry, leaving a goblin in your home would practically guarantee petty theft every three days. You'd be better off raising a Sniffer.

At least Pigsy (Zhu Bajie) from Journey to the West waited for his master to be missing half a day before stealing the luggage.

A goblin? You go fishing for two hours and it'll declare itself heir to your entire estate.

"I've verified your commitment to the contract. That's good. I'm pleased. Now, take me to the vault," Ian said with a vague, open-ended phrase that could be interpreted any way.

After all, his original intention was just to open a vault at Gringotts.

Now, he was betting that his legacy had to involve more than just the right to be on a coin.

And, wasn't it true that you know yourself best?

"Of course. No problem at all."

The mustached goblin responded immediately, without the slightest reluctance or regret, no grief over "losing the family fortune." He simply bowed politely and gestured for Ian to follow.

"Ka-cha, ka-cha~"

The massive iron door slowly began to open.

"Can I come along and take a look too?"

Hermione was eager and full of anticipation.

"Hermione! It's extremely rude to go into someone else's vault!" Mrs. Granger immediately came over and pulled back the curious little kitten of a daughter, who looked slightly disappointed.

"I actually don't mind," Ian said casually.

He didn't even know what was inside the vault himself. If opening it required something like a blood sacrifice, perhaps Miss Granger would be of unexpected value.

He thought this with mild amusement in his heart.

However, the mustached goblin began shaking his head like a rattling drum.

"Apart from us goblins who serve as vault managers, only the vault owner and their rightful heirs can step into that area. If the bloodline isn't correct, the magic and security mechanisms will immediately blast the intruder into a mist of blood."

"It's the most advanced form of protection, cast personally by the Supreme Sorcerer Medivh. I'd say not even your headmaster, the one who recently became a banned name here in Gringotts, could bypass that level of security." The goblin's tone became sour at the mention of the old headmaster.

Clearly, they were still bitter over the last Gringotts break-in.

"Alright…"

Hermione paled after hearing the goblin's explanation. To be fair, even Ian himself started to feel a twinge of unease.

Was it all just a baseless guess?

If his hunch turned out wrong...

Just imagining the consequences made Ian's scalp tingle. He nearly backed out.

"Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Besides, I have a backup plan." Ian touched his chest. There had been nothing there moments ago, but the moment he formed the thought, the black phoenix had silently appeared, already prepared.

"Huh? Why do I feel like I heard that sound again…" Hermione scratched her ear, then looked down to see her newly purchased wand vibrating faintly.

A creepy "jeer-jeer" sound came from within it, and it felt like only she could hear it.

"If you want to see a vault for yourselves," The mustached goblin suddenly said, eyes flicking toward the Grangers, "You could always rent one. We're offering a back-to-school 2% discount on limited-time vault rentals."

The goblin had sniffed the air like a trained Niffler. Judging from the scent of Galleons clinging to the family, he quickly began pitching.

(To Be Continued…)

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