A large group of goblins landed—so even on people—and brandished their weapons.
Eager and frenzied, they stord into Gringotts.
"Kill these traitors!" one goblin shouted, conjuring a raised platform beneath himself. He stood tall, pointing forward. "Reclaim the wealth that is rightfully ours!"
The goblins inside Gringotts were montarily stunned.
So were the wizards.
Only when two goblins at the gate were cut down by the insurgents—blood splattering the marble floor—did they snap to attention, shrieking in terror.
Snape glanced once more at the Dark Mark floating above his head.
Without a word, he followed at the rear of the goblin horde, entering Gringotts.
—
Ministry of Magic
Scrimgeour had been having relatively good days recently.
Despite the chaos wrought by the Wild Hunt, which required him to laboriously explain matters to the Pri Minister—and despite the Ministry working overti for three days to quash the fallout—he'd managed to spin a believable cover story. To the outside world, it was just a case of spies sabotaging a gas pipeline, causing a massive explosion. The strange frost? Chalked up to extre weather and temperature fluctuations.
Britain issued a strong condemnation!
The country across the Channel passively accepted bla.
A few far-flung nations offered vocal support.
Though a serious incident, it had little impact on Scrimgeour. Wizards cared little for Muggle affairs. Within the magical world, his deft handling of the matter won praise. Within three days, all rumors linking the event to wizardry were wiped clean. Now, the British public was busy pointing fingers across the sea.
In fact, the ergence of a new external threat had unified the Ministry.
Were it not for the earlier warnings from Harry and Dumbledore, Scrimgeour wouldn't have even deployed anyone to support Mr. Scamander. But the limited manpower assigned had still been too slow, allowing the Wild Hunt's attack to turn catastrophic.
Officials who once hesitated or leaned toward Thicknesse now quickly aligned with Scrimgeour.
Thicknesse had been suspended pending investigation.
Other officials with even remote Death Eater ties were being systematically removed—just waiting for final judgnts.
—
In his office, Scrimgeour reviewed the latest protest letter from the Muggle Pri Minister—just one of many. The Wild Hunt incident had left an indelible stain on the Pri Minister's term.
Suddenly, the door burst open.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, head of the Auror Office, entered with a furrowed brow. "Minister, we've got trouble. Gringotts is under attack."
"Again?" Scrimgeour looked up in disbelief. "Who?"
His stomach dropped. The last ti Gringotts was attacked, it had been during Voldemort's resurrection.
"Goblins. A rebellion," Kingsley said.
Scrimgeour relaxed—slightly. "Another goblin uprising? You can handle that and report to later."
Goblin revolts were nothing new.
They were notoriously sensitive.
One major rebellion every century, peppered with minor ones in between.
Excuses varied wildly—from lack of goblin representation in the Wizengamot, to accidental deaths in Gringotts, to Hogwarts' refusal to return Gryffindor's stolen sword...
Even incidents like wizard imprisonnt of goblins who attempted murder, or arrests for selling counterfeit magical coins...
But after the 20th century, such rebellions had dwindled.
The radicals aged and died off.
Still, "dwindled" didn't an "gone."
Compared to a century ago, the Ministry had a much easier ti controlling goblin unrest.
"The Auror Office may not be enough," Kingsley said, shaking his head.
Scrimgeour paused.
Kingsley raised his hand, fingers spread wide. "Estimated at five or six hundred goblins. Though that may be exaggerated—at least one or two hundred for sure."
"That many?" Scrimgeour leapt to his feet.
Kingsley shrugged, continuing, "They're all armored and ard. Fortunately, no wands."
Scrimgeour frowned. "Anything else?"
He asked it as a formality.
But Kingsley nodded. "The worst part: they were joined by a dark wizard—he cast the Dark Mark."
Scrimgeour's heart skipped. His voice cracked. "The Dark Mark?"
"Is it... him?"
"Probably not the Dark Lord himself," Kingsley said gently, choosing his words carefully. "The figure wore a hood—face unseen—but their magic was potent. They dispelled the Ministry's Anti-Apparition enchantnts in Diagon Alley."
Scrimgeour ca out from behind his desk. "Summon Mr. Potter and Professor Dumbledore—imdiately!"
"How many usable Aurors do we have right now?"
He emphasized the word usable.
Kingsley understood. "Only about twenty."
The Auror Office employed more than that, of course.
But most were only trained for minor dostic disputes—nowhere near fit to face goblin uprisings or dark wizards.
"What about other departnts?" Scrimgeour asked.
Kingsley shrugged—he didn't manage those divisions.
Reaching the elevator, Scrimgeour finally composed himself. "Kingsley, organize the Aurors. Prioritize tracking Thicknesse and the other suspended officials."
Kingsley nodded.
Scrimgeour turned to his secretary. "Contact the Departnt for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the Departnt of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Mobilize anyone useful."
"To the Goblin Liaison Office—monitor goblin activity across Britain. We can't afford more enemies."
"To the Departnt of Magical Transportation—shut down all Floo connections to Diagon Alley, and coordinate Apparition controls around Knockturn Alley."
He paused, then instructed another secretary: "Contact the Departnt of Mysteries. Deploy as many people as they can spare."
Hundreds of ard goblins...
If this wasn't contained, his ministerial career might be over.
Scrimgeour turned back. "I'll contact Dumbledore and Mr. Potter personally."
Returning to his office, he tossed Floo Powder into the fireplace and leaned in.
Dumbledore was arguing with Fawkes, who clutched two unopened jars of Cockroach Clusters atop a chandelier.
The bird was micromanaging his sugar intake—thanks to Harry's nagging that too much sugar was bad for old wizards.
But Dumbledore was a wizard! What harm could a little candy do?
Reviews
All reviews (0)