Gringotts Goblins' Compensation!

Dumbledore said nothing more on the subject, because he too could not figure out how Dudley had suddenly changed from a Muggle into a wizard, and an exceptionally powerful one at that, without any instruction.

He rubbed the paper packet containing the fake Philosopher's Stone that Hagrid had handed him with his aged fingers. Threads of magic seeped into it, and his expression changed slightly.

With his mastery of Alchemy, a single probe told him that this was not the Philosopher's Stone at all. At most, it was a natural ruby of rather fine quality.

Had Voldemort succeeded? Had the Goblins switched it? Or had it been that remarkable young Mr. Dursley...

Dumbledore pondered. Given the information he had, the answer did not seem difficult to guess.

It was as obvious as the impassioned voice not far away.

"Is this how Gringotts handles security? Your vaults are like sieves—terrorists can come and go whenever they please? Your employees are like rats, running the moment things look bad?!

"And you call that Fire Dragon guards and Goblin squads? Pah! They were all useless decorations! One fire, and they stopped you? What exactly are you people good for?

"With all the families in the Wizarding World paying vault management fees every year, have you thrown every bloody last bit of it into the Irish Sea without so much as a splash?!

"Do you know how close it was? So close! My cousin, my big friend, and I nearly died here!

"People who know better would think we came to a bank to withdraw money. People who do not would think we stormed a terrorist hideout!"

Before the Goblins cleaning up the wreckage in the underground vaults, Dudley launched into a passionate tirade, spittle flying everywhere. His presence felt even taller than Hagrid, and the Goblins were so ashamed by his scolding that they all lowered their heads, not daring to meet his eyes.

A leading Goblin manager forced himself to step forward, seeking reconciliation. "Esteemed guest, Gringotts deeply apologizes for the misfortune you have suffered..."

"Apologizes?!" Dudley immediately cut him off. "How many Galleons an ounce is an apology worth? You think you can brush this aside just by smacking your shriveled, dry upper lip against your lower lip a few times?

"I was hit by the Cruciatus Curse! The most agonizing of the Unforgivable Curses! How do you compensate for my pain? How do you compensate for the fright we suffered? And how do you compensate for the life-and-death danger we went through?!

"If you do not give me a satisfactory answer today, I will expose your appallingly awful security to the Daily Prophet the moment I get out. I will let every wizard see your true face and make them take their property out of here—all of it! Not a single Knut left behind!"

"No—"

The Goblins were terrified. Their ancestors had been defeated by wizards and stripped of the right to use wands. Now, their only remaining desire was gold coins and treasures.

If there were a large-scale bank run, they might as well be killed outright.

"One thousand—no, three thousand! How about three thousand Galleons? And the Potter Lineage's vault will be permanently exempt from management fees!"

The Goblin manager named his price with immense pain in his heart.

"I do not think there is any need for us to keep talking. Harry, withdraw all the money from the vault. We will go straight to the Daily Prophet offices and buy up the front page headlines for a whole year!"

Dudley's face darkened as he made to leave.

"Do not! Please, do not! Fine! You win! Ten thousand Galleons, plus another vault with permanent exemption from management fees!"

The Goblin manager collapsed weakly onto the stone steps, as though he had been hit by the Imperius Curse. He felt as if his entire soul had been hollowed out.

"I want one hundred thousand! One hundred thousand Galleons! Not one coin less!" Dudley finally showed his hand, revealing a wicked smile that radiated certainty.

"No! That is impossible!" The Goblin manager sprang up as though the steps had burned him, hopping in anxious agitation.

The other Goblins chimed in as well, saying that this price cut straight through their throats to their carotid arteries.

"Heh heh!" Dudley sneered, then fell silent, using wordless coldness to batter the Goblins' psychological defenses.

Sweat beaded on the Goblin manager's head, drops running down the folds of his skin. Clearly, he was under tremendous mental pressure.

After a long while, he finally gave ground again with extreme reluctance.

"Fifty thousand Galleons! We truly cannot give any more!" The Goblin manager wiped away his sweat and said with difficulty, "For Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore's sake, this is the highest offer Gringotts can make!"

Seeing Dumbledore and Hagrid approaching, the Goblin manager shuddered and tried to earn some goodwill.

Unexpectedly, mentioning Dumbledore's name only made Dudley more fired up.

"What, are you saying Hagrid and I are not worth even one Galleon? That we are not even qualified to be mentioned?" Dudley roared furiously, magic surging from his body. "Do people without fame deserve to die?!"

The Goblin manager was forced several steps back by Dudley's terrifying aura. He stammered, not daring to say much. "No... I... I did not mean that."

"Then what did you mean?! Huh?!" Dudley pressed forward step by step.

"Gringotts should indeed offer compensation!"

At that moment, Dumbledore, who had come closer, spoke solemnly. "To cover up this scandal, you kept me outside the vault, thinking you could handle it yourselves, yet you nearly got innocent people killed..."

"Shut up!"

Dudley rebuked the old man again. He could tell that Dumbledore was defending himself, explaining things to Harry and him.

But that defense was pathetic. How had Voldemort, possessing Quirrell, learned the news and gone straight for Vault 713 beneath Gringotts to steal the Philosopher's Stone? This was a plot point from the original story, a genuine scheme by the old man. Trying to deny it? There was no way he could. And besides, how long had the old man been watching from the side? Could the Goblins really have stopped him?

"Fifty thousand Galleons! Permanent exemption from management fees for the Potter Lineage's vault, plus two injured Norwegian Ridgebacks—one male and one female!"

Under the stunned gazes of the Goblins and Hagrid, Dudley ignored Dumbledore and firmly named his final price.

"Fine... fine... deal!"

The Goblin manager's mind went blank, but instinct told him not to say no to someone ruthless enough to defy Dumbledore to his face. So, in a daze, he agreed.

Only after coming back to his senses did he realize something was wrong and hurriedly ask, "The Ministry of Magic does not permit private ownership of Fire Dragons. Are the Fire Dragons to be slaughtered..."

"Hmm?!" Dudley glared at him viciously.

"Uh... I meant to ask, where should we deliver the two Fire Dragons?" The Goblin manager backed down again.

"Deposit the fifty thousand Galleons into the Potter family's vault! Heal the burns on the two Norwegian Ridgebacks, then wait for my message. When my letter arrives, deliver them properly wherever I tell you to, without the slightest shortfall! Otherwise, bear the consequences yourselves!"

Dudley withdrew his terrifying, overflowing magic, pulled Harry onto another intact mine cart summoned by the Goblins, tapped it with his wand, and sped away.

"Do as he says!"

Dumbledore left the Goblins with those words, then took hold of Hagrid's arm. Orange-red firelight flashed as he Apparated, and the two twisted into spirals before vanishing.

After everyone had left, the Goblin manager remained silent for a long moment before suddenly roaring at the other Goblins:

"What are you still standing around for?! Start using Reparo! And reinforce the Anti-Apparition Jinx! I do not want to see anyone able to come! And! Go! As! They! Please! In our vaults ever again!"