Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Is the Auror Office short on Galleons?

Undoubtedly. With tensions escalating between them and the Death Eaters, every aspect of their operations—recruiting new Aurors, purchasing potions, paying out death benefits—demanded a steady stream of gold.

But the Ministry itself was also strapped for cash. Practically every department was stretching out a hand to the Minister, and the Auror Office only ever got the bare minimum—nowhere near enough.

That was why Scrimgeour had dropped everything and stuck around for hours just to listen to them argue.

After all, earning money is still part of the job. No shame in that.

Half of 30,000 Galleons was 15,000 Galleons. Just for sitting in a room and playing along for a few hours, they'd secured that much funding. Any department head would jump at the chance.

Too bad the others wouldn't get a turn.

Scrimgeour straightened up, continuing to play his role until the matter was officially settled.

Fifteen thousand Galleons—more than he'd expected. A clean profit.

As for what the money was officially for… no one really cared.

Yes, Diagon Alley had sustained some damage. But this was the wizarding world. Dragonfire wasn't Fiendfyre—a basic Repair Charm could fix most things. It wasn't something to stress over.

The goblins knew that too—but they paid up anyway.

Because all of this was just a front. The Ministry needed Galleons, and the goblins needed to bury the vault breach scandal and patch up Gringotts' reputation. Both sides understood perfectly.

Originally, it wouldn't have needed to get this complicated. But Kyle had volunteered to handle the negotiation—and that had driven up the price by several times.

Thirty thousand Galleons... Bogrod's heart was bleeding. Based on what they'd agreed on beforehand, this was already the absolute floor—not a single Knut more.

He genuinely didn't want to argue with Kyle anymore. This wizard was the most shameless person he'd ever encountered. He never let things go, spouted baseless accusations without hesitation, and kept throwing increasingly outrageous claims at the goblins.

Keep going, and even he'd start believing the goblins had raised dragons to start a rebellion.

Enough. I'm done.

"Great. Now that the official business is done, let's talk personal." Kyle took another sip of Butterbeer. "About the 6,300 Galleons that were stolen from me—you're going to give me an explanation, aren't you?"

He's still not done?!

Bogrod's heart, which had just started to settle, lurched again.

"Your money was already withdrawn!" he rasped. "Anything that happened afterward has nothing to do with Gringotts!"

He wanted a Butterbeer too—water would do, honestly—but no matter how many hints he dropped, the Auror nearby acted like he couldn't see him at all.

Damn wizard.

"Nothing to do with you?" Kyle sneered. "If I'd been robbed after leaving Gringotts, I wouldn't be saying a word. But this happened inside your vault. You think I would've let my guard down if not for that goblin face?"

"He dropped a bunch of Galleons while grabbing mine. You can check the vault trail—go ahead!"

Bogrod glared.

They had found scattered Galleons in the passage—but that didn't prove this wizard had been robbed, did it?

"Don't tell me you think I tossed those Galleons down there," Kyle said, casting him a sidelong glance. "You think I've got time for that? Or that Death Eaters are so easygoing they'd help me, their enemy?"

Bogrod opened his mouth but couldn't say a word.

"So let's not waste time. This was your negligence—plain and simple. Compensation. Medical costs. Emotional damages. Nine thousand Galleons. Not one Knut less."

"If you won't pay, I'll take it to the Wizengamot and file a complaint against Gringotts!"

"Mm... Gringotts likely won't win," Scrimgeour said, stepping in with a rare impartial comment. "We Aurors examined Kyle's belongings thoroughly and didn't find the Galleons he'd just withdrawn."

Kyle had just helped bring in a hefty sum for the Auror Office—Scrimgeour was happy to offer a little support in return.

And he wasn't lying. The Aurors really had searched Kyle's mokeskin pouch, right in front of Bogrod.

They'd found a few coins, sure—but nowhere near six thousand. It was clear the money wasn't there.

Did Bogrod believe them?

Maybe. But he still didn't want to pay.

And so another round of haggling began.

This time, though, Kyle wasn't alone.

Scrimgeour, representing the Ministry, would chime in now and then with a neutral comment. Dumbledore occasionally offered a word, too.

Three against one. The pressure on Bogrod was immense. He lasted barely two hours before excusing himself to the restroom and fleeing the Auror Office.

Kyle rubbed his throat and turned to the side.

"Mr. Dumbledore, what brings you here?"

"I came to see you," Dumbledore replied. "You were escorted to St. Mungo's by Aurors in full view of the public. As the Deputy Headmaster, it's only right I visit a former top student on behalf of Hogwarts."

"Deputy Headmaster?" Kyle blinked.

"Ah, the Board didn't want me to fully retire from the school," Dumbledore explained. "So after a conversation with Minerva, I agreed to return in an official capacity."

"Of course, Severus probably isn't thrilled—I've essentially taken the Deputy Headmaster position he was meant to assume."

"I see." Kyle nodded.

He understood the Board's reasoning. After all, Hogwarts felt safest with Dumbledore there. Wanting him to stay made perfect sense.

At this point, it was basically a role reversal between Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"But didn't you just say you were a bystander?" Kyle asked. "Aren't you worried the goblins might cause you trouble once they learn the truth?"

"The appointment doesn't take effect until tomorrow." Dumbledore winked, then added, "I only heard later that you'd already left St. Mungo's."

"There was a bit of... a hiccup," Kyle said, a little embarrassed.

The goblin had accompanied him to St. Mungo's, and the entire way there—right through the bandaging process—they'd been arguing about compensation.

Their voices were so loud, even the sixth floor could hear them echoing from the lobby. Eventually, Director Pegasia lost her patience and kicked them both out.

Fighting in the street wasn't an option. Kyle wouldn't have minded, but with the goblin's appearance… nine out of ten Muggles would've called the police on sight.

So, to avoid giving the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad more work, they'd relocated the whole battlefield to the Ministry of Magic.

"Someone really stole your Galleons?" Dumbledore looked at Kyle, asking with a knowing tone.

"Of course," Kyle replied without hesitation.

Dumbledore nodded. As for whether he believed it—well, that was obvious.

If a Death Eater had actually robbed Kyle of 6,000 Galleons, Dumbledore seriously doubted the culprit would have left in one piece.

They waited a while longer, but Bogrod still hadn't returned.

"That goblin didn't run off, did he?" Kyle muttered, frowning.

"He won't," Dumbledore replied.

By now, he understood clearly—Kyle was acting as the de facto representative of the Ministry of Magic. While helping the Ministry, he was also leveraging the situation for himself.

If Gringotts really wanted to put this incident to rest, they needed Kyle's approval. That much, the Ministry had silently agreed to…

A service fee?

Something like that.

Sure enough, just as Dumbledore finished speaking, the office door swung open.

Bogrod waddled in on his short legs and spoke before Kyle could open his mouth. "Six thousand five hundred Galleons. The extra is Gringotts' way of thanking you for helping drive out the Death Eater."

He made no mention of the medical expenses or the so-called emotional damages.

The goblins were indeed willing to pay to make the matter go away—but that didn't mean they were going to let themselves get dragged through the dirt a second time.

Once was enough. They couldn't let it keep happening.

"No problem," Kyle said simply, nodding in agreement without wasting words.

He figured Bogrod had probably gone off to consult with the other goblins at Gringotts.

Though the amount wasn't quite what he'd hoped for, if even those infamously greedy goblins were willing to meet halfway, he figured he could return the courtesy.

Less profit was still profit.

"A hundred Galleons or so... You goblins sure are stingy," Kyle remarked. "When will the money be delivered? I'm warning you—don't think you can drag it out for a year or two.

"If I don't see the money soon, I'm afraid my colleagues at the Ministry won't be in the mood to work."

"You, you…" Bogrod stared at Kyle, but quickly wilted.

"We'll do it as soon as possible," he sighed. "You know nearly forty thousand Galleons isn't a small sum. Even Gringotts needs time to gather the funds."

"But I promise, once everything is ready, Gringotts will deliver the money immediately."

"Fine, we'll do it your way," Kyle said, still basking in the thought of all that gold. For once, he was surprisingly easygoing.

The corners of Bogrod's mouth twitched slightly, but he quickly schooled his expression, as if nothing had happened.

What followed were a few minor procedural details, which didn't take long.

Once everything was settled, Bogrod all but bolted from the office, fleeing as if even one second longer might kill him from sheer frustration.

He was truly exhausted.

Not just mentally—his throat hurt, too.

People said goblins were greedy and had no bottom line, but in Bogrod's view, this wizard was the greediest of them all. His appetite was bigger than a Graphorn's, his heart more venomous than a Nundu's.

Every second spent dealing with him had been pure torment.

Bogrod couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. If they hadn't tried to push the blame onto that wizard back in the vault, maybe none of this would've happened.

But how could they have known things would spiral like this? It was instinct—get Gringotts out of the scandal, pin the loss on someone else.

If only the Aurors had arrived just a little later...

Bogrod sighed again, picked up his pace, and soon disappeared down the corridor.

...

The moment the goblin left, the atmosphere in the Auror Office brightened considerably. Scrimgeour, especially, hadn't stopped grinning since.

The average Ministry employee earned about sixty Galleons a month... Fifteen thousand Galleons was an absolute fortune.

With that kind of money, everything became easier. The overdue death benefits they'd had no choice but to delay? They could pay those off—no, add thirty percent, and bump up the wages for every Auror.

Wands damaged during operations in the Hebrides? Double reimbursement.

As for essential supplies—healing potions, Invigoration Draughts, Skele-Gro—they could buy them by the crate. One crate for each Auror.

Every department was short on funds. If others found out about this windfall, jealousy would be inevitable. Scrimgeour had to spend the 15,000 Galleons quickly—convert it into visible combat power before anyone got wise.

As he mapped out the budget in his mind, Kyle began to look even more pleasing to the eye.

No wonder people said Dumbledore had high hopes for him.

Even Minister Fudge had shown interest—recruiting Kyle into the Ministry with high pay and special treatment before he'd even graduated.

At the time, plenty of people had criticized the move. Scrimgeour himself had had doubts.

But now?

Now he understood. Kyle had real talent.

Scrimgeour had to give credit where it was due. He was a skilled Auror, a specialist in capturing dark wizards and Death Eaters—but when it came to dealing with goblins, especially greedy ones, that was another matter entirely.

If the Aurors had handled the situation, they'd be lucky to claw back a few thousand Galleons. Kyle, on the other hand, had effortlessly secured ten times that amount.

He had to admit—Fudge might've been a terrible Minister, but he certainly had a good eye for people.

"You've really gone above and beyond," Scrimgeour said, using a tone more gentle than he ever had before. "This is the first time I've seen those greedy goblins take such a massive hit."

"No big deal. I didn't do it just for the Ministry," Kyle waved it off. "Besides, it's not over yet."

"Not over?" Scrimgeour blinked. "Didn't they already agree to pay?"

"They did," Kyle said, "but that doesn't mean they'll hand it over right away."

"You mean... they plan to go back on their word?" Scrimgeour's expression darkened into a scowl.

The thought of that 15,000 Galleons slipping away sent his blood pressure through the roof. He looked like an angry lion, ready to pounce.

"They probably won't outright renege," Kyle said. "But they're definitely not going to hand it over without making things difficult."

He'd seen Bogrod's face just before he left—there had been a flicker of amusement.

To be smiling after suffering such a loss? Something was off.

Still, Kyle wasn't too bothered.

Dumbledore had to return to Hogwarts, so after parting ways with him at the Ministry entrance, Kyle headed back to Diagon Alley.

He had an appointment at the Leaky Cauldron—with a familiar face.

Big curls, red nails, a crocodile-skin handbag—Rita Skeeter was still as fashionable as ever, standing out among wizards like no one else.

"How'd it go?"

"Don't get your hopes up." Kyle sat across from her. "The goblins backed down, so your article probably won't see the light of day."

"Hah." Rita Skeeter slammed the table in frustration. "I risked my life sneaking into Gringotts to get that firsthand scoop. Just because the Ministry doesn't want it published, I'm supposed to drop it?"

"You can try," Kyle said calmly, "but let me give you a friendly warning—if this messes up our deal and Scrimgeour comes looking for you, don't complain about how ruthless he is."

If that mountain of Galleons slipped through their fingers, knowing Scrimgeour's temper, he'd probably tear the culprit apart himself.

"You think I'm scared of Scrimgeour?" Rita growled, slapping the table.

She'd dared to write scandal pieces on Dumbledore, so why should she fear a mere Head of the Auror Office?

...Okay, maybe she was scared.

Rita quickly came to terms with reality. Dumbledore had a forgiving nature—no matter what she wrote about him, even if she painted him as a senile old lunatic, he never got angry.

But Scrimgeour? He wasn't nearly as generous. He'd absolutely go for the throat.

Kyle gave her a glance but didn't call her out. After thinking it over, he said, "If you really want to publish it, it's not impossible."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering directly, Kyle posed an unrelated question.

"What time does The Daily Prophet usually hit the stands?"

Though puzzled, Rita replied honestly, "If it's not a rush edition... eight in the morning."

"In that case, deliver a copy to Gringotts at seven."

"Just one copy?" Rita looked unimpressed.

Was he toying with her?

"One hundred Galleons," Kyle said, tossing a hefty bag onto the table. "You deliver the paper, I pay you one hundred Galleons. Cash, right now."

Kyle didn't even see her move—the bag vanished in an instant.

"Just one copy? There are plenty of goblins in Gringotts," she said with a knowing smile. "We've got pro equipment—doesn't matter if it's one or a hundred. Think of the extras as a little gift. On the house."

"Then one for every goblin," Kyle said. "Make sure it's delivered an hour early. Only to Gringotts. And remind them it's the day's paper."

"No problem. I'll take it myself," Rita promised, patting her chest.

The two clinked their Butterbeers, then went their separate ways.

"Honestly, what kind of terrible karma did those goblins rack up to end up with you?" Rita muttered as she was leaving.

As one of his previous victims, she knew better than anyone what kind of methods this wizard used.

Back then, she had danced between the circles of famous wizards, churning out gossip and rumors unscathed—until she ran headfirst into Kyle, a student who hadn't even graduated yet, and took a monumental fall.

If she hadn't been able to handle him, how could the goblins stand a chance?

"Watch it. I'm doing them a favor," Kyle said, shooting her a look.

"Fine, you're paying me. Whatever you say goes." With that, Rita stepped into the fireplace and vanished.

...

Kyle headed to his shop in Diagon Alley.

Because it was close to Gringotts, it had been affected by the chaos earlier—but only slightly. Dobby had repaired it almost immediately, and the inventory was untouched.

For the first time, Kyle thought Dobby might have worked too fast... If the shop had stayed wrecked a little longer, maybe he could've made a few extra Galleons off the situation.

Too bad. The repairs were done—no sense in tearing the place down just to start over.

Before stepping inside, Kyle deliberately turned to glance at the nearby Gringotts entrance, doors tightly shut.

The goblins had been quick, too. The gaping hole the dragon had left in the roof was already sealed up. From the outside, Gringotts looked exactly as it had before.

As for what was going on inside, what the goblins were doing, or what plans they were cooking up... Kyle didn't care.

Just like he'd said before—whatever schemes the goblins had in mind, it didn't concern him.