Harry Potter: Shippuden

Two minutes later, Kyle was nearly blinded by the mountain of gold in the vault.

"How… how much is this?"

The pile of gold was so high it nearly touched the ceiling of the vault.

"In fact, this is just a fraction of the wealth your father amassed at the height of his power."

Kyle turned his head, stunned. This was just a fraction?

Oh right, his father had once been the leader of the wizarding world, with influence spanning all of Europe…

Well, he'd just been too naive.

With this fortune, Kyle immediately abandoned a certain bold idea he'd been considering.

While riding the cart down to the vault, he'd been memorizing the layout of Gringotts, the security measures…

He'd even sketched out a rough plan, waiting for the day he could recruit a few like-minded partners to form the "Trio of England" and carry it out.

But now, with this fortune, he no longer needed to take such risks.

Still, the temptation was strong!

"Professor, should we go get my wand now?" Kyle asked, standing on the street outside, trying hard not to glance back at Gringotts.

"Hmm… let's get your robes first. Custom tailoring takes time. We'll come back for them after we've finished everything else."

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was just a few shops away from Gringotts, and Kyle found it easily.

As he approached the door, he heard voices inside.

"I think the left sleeve could be taken up a bit more, dear, let me—"

"Ow!" a young boy's voice cried out. "Be careful! Watch where you're sticking that needle, you stupid hag! Mother! I don't want this robe anymore!"

A woman's voice, dripping with indulgence, replied, "You're right, Draco. Now I know what kind of riffraff shops here… We'll get better robes at Twilfitt and Tattings."

Before Kyle could push the door open, it was flung open from the inside, the gust of wind ruffling his bangs.

Standing before him was a pampered, platinum-blond boy with slicked-back hair and a haughty expression.

Just a spoiled brat, Kyle thought.

He was about to step aside when the boy spoke.

"Move!" Draco sneered, eyeing Kyle's Muggle clothes. "You filthy Mudblood!"

The insult made Kyle change his mind. He didn't know what "Mudblood" meant, but the tone made it clear it wasn't a compliment.

For spoiled brats like this, a little lesson in humility was in order.

Glancing behind him, Dumbledore hadn't caught up yet. So…

Time to teach him a lesson.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, pulled a small, round object from his pocket, and threw it to the ground.

With a soft pop, a blinding flash of light erupted.

Draco blinked, disoriented, and when his vision cleared, Kyle was gone.

A foot appeared out of nowhere, kicking him to the ground.

"Konoha Taijutsu Secret Technique!" Kyle formed a hand seal, a wicked grin on his face—"One Thousand Years of Death!"