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Gringotts stood at the center of the commercial street—a very tall white building, conspicuous against its surroundings.
In any world, banks were always impressive.
Two solemn goblins stood before gleaming bronze doors, wearing scarlet uniforms trimmed with gold. Seeing Hofa, both bowed slightly.
Legend said this was Diagon Alley's first shop.
Human and goblin walked into Gringotts. Here, Indor wore his suit properly—chest out, head high. None of his previous sleazy merchant manner.
Through the second silver door, warnings were carved above:
Enter, stranger, but take heed Of what awaits the sin of greed...
Old English. Very atmospheric.
Hofa's calm shattered. His heart jumped. Coming to Gringotts to con money for school on day one—he'd gone mad.
But seeing Indor's confidence, Hofa steadied himself. Things had come to this. Complaining was useless. Play the role well to gain trust. In banks, trust was money.
Indor said, "Your name's Silby Spencer now. French nobility descendant. Got it?"
Hofa said mockingly, "Really prepared, aren't you."
Past goblins weighing gems constantly, they reached the counter.
Indor's lips moved. Whispered softly.
"Silby doesn't speak English. From now on, leave everything to me."
Hofa nodded wordlessly.
Indor looked up at a bald old goblin wearing glasses.
"This client's from France. Represents his family for investment discussions. Proof of Spencer family overseas properties."
Indor produced a paper from nowhere, handed it over.
The old goblin's expression stayed solemn. Crossed fingers, looked Hofa up and down, nodded slightly.
Hofa nodded back reservedly.
The old goblin pulled out a magnifying glass, examined Indor's paper carefully.
Seeing that paper, Hofa's teeth itched. Indor had obviously prepared long ago. Probably planned from the start to partner up and con money—deliberately lost the tuition.
After studying it, the old goblin beckoned. A goblin secretary approached.
"Take them to Room 103."
The secretary nodded immediately. Brought Hofa to the elevator, pressed buttons. The old sliding door elevator rose upward.
Hofa remembered Harry and Hagrid went underground. He was going up. This unknown feeling made him uneasy.
Tenth floor. Elevator opened.
Indor immediately bowed at the door, acting like a servant—letting Hofa pass first. Highlighting noble status.
Hofa sneered internally. Professional con artist. Always played the full act.
He didn't refuse. Learning from past-life movie nobles, walked out reservedly.
Hallway smelled of expensive roses. Red carpet. Gilded magical lighting on both walls. Very high-class.
The secretary escorted them into Room 103, withdrew.
Outside was daylight, but inside a fireplace burned. Walls covered with silverware and oil paintings. Dark but luxurious.
"Mr. Ralfa, look who I brought."
Indor cleared his throat cheerfully, spoke loudly.
Before the fireplace, a wheelchair turned.
In it sat an ancient, decrepit goblin.
Red blanket. Head trembling slightly. Nose as long as Hofa's forearm.
Hofa swore he'd never seen such an old goblin. The Stephen Hawking of goblins.
Indor walked over, loudly kissed the nearly bald forehead.
Damn!
Hofa felt disgust.
The old goblin grinned, pointed to a red sofa.
Hofa sat quietly.
Indor went to a cabinet, familiarly took out a wine glass.
While pouring: "Ralfa, France's wizarding world faces problems. Germany's ambitions can't be stopped. Mr. Spencer will mortgage family French properties for British Ministry protection."
Ralfa muttered, "Alarmist, Indor. Always like this..."
Voice hoarse as a broken gong.
Indor handed over parchment. "Believe it or not. The deed. Look."
Ralfa took it, looked, muttered, "Delphina Spencer... truly unclaimed land." Glanced at Hofa. "Don't know his relationship to Miss Delphina..."
Indor patted his chest. "Brother. Blood brother. Spencer family's sole heir. Don't worry. No problem."
Old goblin nodded.
"Just this price..."
Indor held up one finger.
"Ten thousand Galleons, plus security agreement. That's the price. If acceptable, you get land including Bordeaux port. Settlement within two years."
Old goblin's murky eyes brightened, looked at Hofa without speaking.
Indor: "Don't worry. He doesn't speak English."
Old goblin immediately haggled with Indor.
Watching them argue, Hofa smiled on the surface, cursed internally. This goblin was an absolute bastard—lied without blinking. How'd he get "decent" from Dumbledore?
Dumbledore was one of Harry Potter's rare wise men. Had this goblin's face grown thick enough to fool even Dumbledore? Or was Dumbledore not aged enough yet, got burned by Indor, became wise because of it?
Finally, haggling ended.
Old goblin looked at Hofa expectantly.
Indor came to Hofa's side, dark expression, whispered, "Is this old guy's nose funny? Nod yes, shake no."
Hofa silently looked at the huge bulbous nose. Finally, under expectant gaze, nodded gravely.
Old goblin smiled with satisfaction.
Indor stood, cursed. "Damn it. Five thousand is five thousand. You old bastard. Even Grandet wasn't as vicious!"
Ding!
Crisp sound.
Ten minutes later, Hofa and Indor stood at Gringotts' exit. A thick gold coin flipped between Indor's long fingers.
He held a small leather bag, smiled at Hofa. "See? Told you. Goblins never lack money."
Hofa looked at the bag. Didn't look big, but had an Extension Charm—held at least 5,000 Galleons.
5,000 Galleons. Even Harry's vault probably didn't have this much.
Hofa asked, "So those deeds were forged?"
Indor shrugged. "What else? You really thought you were French nobility?"
Hofa sighed. "Aren't you afraid they'll come after you? This is fraud."
"Kid, if your vision's long-term enough, you'll never worry about coins."
Indor grinned, strode ahead.
"Times are changing. Before these greedy bastards settle business, that land will turn to scorched earth. All prosperity will vanish. By then, whether deeds are real or fake won't matter."
Hofa stared at Indor's back, shocked.
An ordinary eleven-year-old wouldn't understand. But Hofa knew. World War II was imminent. France would fall first, become a war zone.
Never mind fake deeds—even if he'd brought Versailles Palace's deed, those goblins wouldn't get it. Pure time-gap war profiteering.
Puzzled, Hofa caught up.
"Hey, how do you know? What makes you dare assert there'll be war? What if they discover it before war starts?"
Indor turned. Strange gleam flashed across his face.
"Of course I know. I'm from Germany's Heligoland Island. As for discovery—don't worry. No one dares trouble a first-year Hogwarts student."
Indor tossed Hofa a small calfskin pouch.
Hofa caught it. Hand sank downward.
Inside—gleaming Galleons.
Indor: "One Galleon for 17 Sickles. One Sickle for 29 Knuts. I gave you 100 Galleons—way more generous than Hogwarts aid. Enough for books and a wand. Not secondhand."
After playing with the coins, Hofa looked up, annoyed.
"We cooperated. Why'd you take 5,000 while I get 100?"
Indor blinked. "You didn't do anything though."
Hofa pursed his lips, tucked the pouch away safely.
One Galleon could exchange for 5 pounds. Converting to past-life currency, 45 yuan. 100 Galleons—4,500 yuan. For him now, a huge sum.
Though Hofa liked money, he knew ill-gotten gains were best avoided. This time he'd risked out of desperation. Next time, nothing could make him do this. He didn't want to test Gringotts' power.
Back at Madam Malkin's, under old Malkin's reluctant gaze, Indor retrieved his watch.
Hofa took off his fancy outfit, changed back into dirty clothes—Cinderella after midnight.
At least he'd bought school robes. Not secondhand.
After robes, with Indor's company, Hofa went to Flourish and Blotts, bought Hogwarts textbooks. Though he desperately wanted to read now, he knew it wasn't time.
After touring most of Diagon Alley, realm exploration in Hofa's mind reached 45%.
Just 5% more for the system's first reward—one-third of a spell fragment.
But compared to fragments, something else excited him more.
A wand.
What he'd dreamed of.
Under Indor's guidance, Hofa came to the shop every Potter fan would envy—Ollivanders.
Like the books described, the most mysterious shop seemed quite inconspicuous. Tiny storefront, peeling gold paint sign, dusty window.
Just reaching the door, Indor beside him stretched out his hand, stopped eager Hofa.
The reason became clear.
Huge magical fluctuation suddenly transmitted from inside.
Accompanied by wildly excited, ecstatic laughter.
"That's right! Just like that! Exactly like that!!"
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