Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

The next morning, the sun was bright and the early breeze carried a crisp chill—it was cold, but pleasantly so.

Kyle arrived at the Ministry of Magic early, crossed the empty atrium, took the lift to the second floor, and casually pushed open the door to the Auror Office, clearly familiar with the place.

Scrimgeour sat inside, looking utterly exhausted. He didn't seem like he'd just arrived—more like he'd been working through the night without rest.

"Another operation?" Kyle asked offhandedly.

"Still the same business," Scrimgeour replied. "What are you doing here? Need something? If you're looking for Chris, he's not back yet."

"No, I'm here to wait for the goblins."

"The goblins?" Scrimgeour blinked. "You think they'll deliver the Galleons today?"

While he certainly hoped the money would arrive soon, he also knew that nearly forty thousand Galleons was no small sum. The deal had only been made yesterday—getting the funds by this morning seemed overly optimistic. Even when Malfoy donated five thousand Galleons to the Ministry, it hadn't happened this quickly.

"I think they will," Kyle said as he began fiddling with the large Sneakoscope in the office.

Scrimgeour frowned but didn't stop him.

After yesterday's events, his attitude toward Kyle had softened considerably. The Sneakoscope was important, yes, but it wouldn't break just from being touched.

Time ticked by, and more people began arriving. The office grew busier, filled with Aurors rushing in and out, delivering rapid-fire reports before disappearing again just as quickly.

Kyle remained off to the side the entire time.

Some of the reports he could hear, others he couldn't—Scrimgeour had likely used a spell like Muffliato to block the sound. Sensible precaution.

Not that Kyle cared much for any of it. To avoid drawing unwanted attention, he eventually got up and headed a few doors down to Mr. Weasley's office.

The Office for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts was on the same floor.

When Kyle knocked and stepped inside, Mr. Weasley was in conversation with Chris.

"Dad?" Kyle was surprised. "When did you get back?"

"Just now. I bumped into Arthur in the atrium a minute ago," Chris replied, equally surprised to see Kyle. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for the goblins," Kyle said.

"Goblins?" Chris was completely confused, but Mr. Weasley quickly filled him in.

"Another dragon incident? Don't tell me it's the Ukrainian Ironbelly again," Chris muttered, rubbing his forehead wearily.

He had barely slept three hours in the past few days dealing with the Black Dragons in the Hebrides. If he could help it, he really didn't want to deal with another dragon.

But a tortured, full-grown Ironbelly was far more dangerous than a Black Dragon. Ignoring it wasn't an option.

"Well then, Arthur, I guess that drink will have to wait." Chris took a deep breath and turned to leave.

"Wait," Kyle stopped him. "No need to rush, Dad. That dragon's already left the UK."

"How do you know?" Chris asked.

"The Dragon Reserve told me," Kyle explained. "I wrote to them yesterday afternoon, and they've agreed to take in the Ukrainian Ironbelly."

"I just got their reply—they'll be bringing the dragon back to Romania from the Pyrenees."

"The Pyrenees…" Mr. Weasley clicked his tongue. "It flew to France?"

"Obviously," Kyle shrugged.

The Ironbelly had been chasing Oren, probably lost him mid-flight, and just kept flying until it ended up in France.

After being kept in that dark underground vault for so long, its eyes had deteriorated. It couldn't navigate properly—just flew wherever instinct took it.

"Well, that's a relief."

Hearing that the dragon had left British airspace, Chris no longer felt the urge to rush out. It wasn't his jurisdiction anymore. Even if he meant well, showing up uninvited would probably just annoy the French Ministry.

Mr. Weasley then recounted the events from the previous day. When he mentioned Kyle encountering a Death Eater disguised as a goblin in Gringotts, Chris didn't react at all. No concern, no surprise.

He was used to it by now.

Death Eaters? Kyle ran into them so often it would be more surprising if he didn't.

And compared to the scar across the Hebrides that nearly split the island, this was small stuff—hardly worth worrying about.

That was, until Mr. Weasley mentioned the thirty-thousand Galleon compensation Kyle had wrung out of the goblins.

Chris's eye twitched. He stared at Kyle like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

Goblins—so notoriously greedy they'd haggle over a single Knut—willing to fork over thirty thousand Galleons to the Ministry?

Was he crazy, or were the goblins?

"It's true…"

Bang!

Before Mr. Weasley could finish, a loud crash came from the office next door.

Kyle was the first to sprint toward it, with Mr. Weasley close behind.

Chris still hadn't processed what was happening, but seeing everyone rush out, he followed.

The moment they stepped into the corridor, Kyle heard Bogrod's furious voice.

"We had an agreement yesterday! What is the meaning of this? Where's your wizarding honor?!"

His voice trembled with rage.

Inside the Auror Office, the goblin had barged in and flung a newspaper onto the desk.

Judging by his expression, he'd originally intended to slap it in Scrimgeour's face—but survival instinct kicked in, and his hand changed course mid-throw.

What's this...?

Scrimgeour instinctively looked down at the paper—and immediately scowled.

"Staged and Scripted: Is Gringotts Becoming You-Know-Who's Private Vault?"

One look at the headline and Scrimgeour understood exactly why the goblin was livid.

"Shocking revelations: Gringotts, long considered unbreakable, has been breached! Though the goblins are desperately trying to cover it up, I, the brave and righteous Rita Skeeter, have obtained exclusive firsthand information…"

The article stretched across the entire front page, not leaving even a corner for ads.

It even thoughtfully bolded key phrases for emphasis and easier reading.

"I find it hard to believe that a wizard could disguise themselves as a goblin without being discovered. That excuse is the most shameless I've heard to date. I'd sooner believe this was a collaboration between Gringotts and the Death Eaters."

...

"An innocent and outstanding wizard got caught up in this conspiracy—he helped Gringotts drive out the Death Eaters, only to be nearly framed as the mastermind. I truly don't understand what the goblins are trying to achieve. Are they just upset that someone angered their new master?"

...

"Whether the goblins have thrown in with You-Know-Who or not, one thing's clear—Gringotts isn't trustworthy anymore. Might be safer keeping your Galleons under your own floorboards."

...

Well, what could be said? Classic Rita Skeeter. The entire article was riddled with personal conjecture and sensational hearsay. If Kyle were a goblin, he'd be furious too.

Especially that last line—it was practically encouraging people to withdraw their assets from the vaults. And that was the one thing Gringotts could never tolerate.

No wonder Bogrod had been so enraged he could barely speak just now.

That said, Scrimgeour was just as confused.

It was a real issue of the Daily Prophet, but something was off.

The formatting was strange. The front page was fully dedicated to the Gringotts incident—which, fair enough—but the second and third pages? Also about Gringotts. That didn't make sense.

Even if You-Know-Who had personally blown up Gringotts, it wouldn't dominate an entire issue like this.

And then there was the timing.

The Daily Prophet typically released its editions at 8 a.m.—which meant the owls wouldn't even leave the publishing office until after that time.

But now...

Scrimgeour glanced at the clock.

It was still half past seven. At this hour, no one should've been able to get their hands on the new issue.

Yet from Bogrod's rant, they'd clearly already read it. That meant the goblins had received their copies even earlier.

Scrimgeour's expression shifted several times. After a moment, he folded the paper and set it aside. He didn't mention his discovery to Bogrod, only furrowed his brow and said,

"I don't know what's going on."

"You don't know?!" Bogrod snapped.

"I don't," Scrimgeour replied, face calm. "The Auror Office handles the arrest of Dark Wizards. We have no authority over the press, so I'm not informed of what they publish."

"Oh my... what's all the fuss about?"

Just then, Kyle strolled in unhurriedly. "I could hear the shouting from next door... Oh, isn't that Mr. Bogrod?"

He acted as if he'd only just noticed the goblin, greeting him cheerfully. "What's this, here to deliver the payment? That's very generous of you—no need to rush!"

"You!" Bogrod suddenly snapped to attention. "This must be your doing!"

"My doing?" Kyle blinked innocently.

"This!" Bogrod waved the newspaper furiously, looking ready to smack Kyle with it.

"Oh, so you've seen it," Kyle said in a serious tone.

"Ah, you..."

"No need to thank me," Kyle cut in smoothly. "I just lent a small hand, nothing worth fussing over."

"Thank you?!" Bogrod stared at him, stunned.

Go back on your word, drag Gringotts' name through the mud—and now expect thanks?

In all his years, he'd never seen a wizard this shameless.

"Ah, you're asking what happened?" Kyle suddenly turned to Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley looked completely baffled. He hadn't said a word.

But seeing Kyle give a quick wink, he caught on fast and nodded. "Right, what happened?"

"It's simple," Kyle said. "I asked a friend at the newspaper to do me a small favor. I was worried the Daily Prophet wouldn't be able to resist such a juicy story, so I had her keep an eye out. I told her, if any major news broke about Gringotts, send me a copy of the issue early."

He paused a moment before continuing, "Only... she seems to have misunderstood. I asked her to send me a copy—I didn't expect her to deliver it to Gringotts."

"You, you..." Bogrod stared blankly at Kyle.

Did he believe that?

Maybe if it had come from anyone else. But from Kyle? Not a chance.

That article was clearly his doing. And that witch hadn't delivered just one copy—she'd sent a full hundred.

Was that really necessary, just to notify someone?

"This newspaper... this cannot be published... absolutely not!" Bogrod stammered. "You must take responsibility! Otherwise—otherwise, every term we agreed on is void!"

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do," Kyle sighed. "My friend's just a low-level employee. She has no say in what the paper prints."

"Then what about your Ministry of Magic?!" Bogrod shouted. "Don't tell me you don't have the authority!"

"Oh, we do. But there's nothing we can do with it."

"Nothing?!"

"Mainly because we're broke." Kyle shrugged. "Everyone's got their hands full right now. That escaped dragon already pulled ten people off other assignments. Without extra pay, no one's volunteering to deal with the newspaper mess."

Bogrod got the message loud and clear.

They were asking for money.

"That's nearly forty thousand Galleons..." Bogrod shouted, clearly agitated. "I already said that once Gringotts finishes gathering the funds, it will be delivered immediately."

"You've misunderstood me—I didn't mean it like that at all," Kyle said quickly, shaking his head. "But the Ministry really is overwhelmed right now. If you don't believe me, just go check each floor—everyone's juggling seven or eight tasks. No one has time to spare."

Bogrod stared at Kyle in silence for a long moment before finally asking in a low voice, "If we pay, that article will be retracted, right?"

"I already told you, that's not something I can decide," Kyle replied, thinking for a second. "But with overtime pay, I'm sure everyone's motivation will shoot up. Maybe someone will volunteer to make a trip to the newspaper office."

"Still, I don't think there's enough time. The owls delivering the paper are about to head out. There's no way Gringotts can pull together over thirty thousand Galleons so quickly.

Let's try thinking of another solution."

Bogrod said nothing and turned to leave.

Scrimgeour looked like he wanted to ask something, but seeing Chris and Mr. Weasley remain silent, he kept his questions to himself.

Kyle sat quietly, watching the clock.

Five minutes later, Bogrod returned—carrying a trunk taller than himself.

Without a word, the goblin lifted the lid.

In an instant, a dazzling golden glow flooded the Auror Office, casting everything in shimmering gold.

"Now... satisfied?" Bogrod hissed through clenched teeth.

"Absolutely, absolutely..." Kyle grinned so widely it nearly reached his ears. "Director Scrimgeour, shouldn't you be sending someone to the newspaper? Any later and it'll be too late!"

"Oh—right, on it!" Scrimgeour tore his eyes away from the overflowing chest of Galleons and hurried out the door, glancing back at the gold with every step.

By the time he returned, the goblins were gone, leaving only the massive trunk of gleaming gold coins as proof it had all really happened.

"They... actually pulled together over thirty thousand Galleons that fast?"

"Of course they did," Kyle chuckled. "They're the biggest wizarding bank in Britain. If they really had to scrape together thirty thousand Galleons, that'd be laughable."

"Then what was all that talk earlier...?"

"They were just giving us trouble," Kyle said casually. "Paying in small amounts over several months, tacking on little requests here and there. And with all those Galleons on the line, as long as the demands weren't outrageous, you'd probably say yes, right?"

Scrimgeour thought it over, then slowly nodded.

If that had been the case, they probably wouldn't have refused. Even the Minister would've gone along with it.

"Of course, that's just my guess," Kyle added. "Maybe the goblins had something else in mind. But either way, it comes down to getting as much benefit as possible to offset their losses."

"Greedy little—" Scrimgeour muttered under his breath, likely something unprintable.

"Alright then, let's split the money!" Kyle said lightly.

Now that the Galleons were secured, it didn't matter what the goblins wanted anymore.

As soon as Kyle said it, Scrimgeour's entire expression lit up.

Dividing the spoils—what a beautiful phrase.

"I'm going to fetch the Minister!" He leapt to his feet and bolted out the door.

The money, after all, was technically being handed over to the Ministry. Scrimgeour couldn't just pocket the agreed-upon share on his own—the Minister had to officiate it.

Before long, Amelia Bones arrived.

The moment she saw the chest packed with Galleons, even she was briefly stunned.

They'd actually gotten it... Unbelievable.

After that, everything moved quickly.

Kyle was first to take his share: 6,500 Galleons, neatly packed into a heavy sack that jingled pleasantly with every movement.

The Auror Office received its promised 15,000 Galleons as well, and Scrimgeour hadn't stopped smiling since.

However, Amelia Bones also assigned him the task of overseeing repairs in Diagon Alley. Magic could handle most of the damage, but not all of it.

The scattered dragonfire and that Horcrux cup had destroyed plenty, including books left outside Flourish and Blotts—things magic alone couldn't replace. That would take Galleons.

Scrimgeour agreed readily.

He already had a rough estimate of the damage, and it was all within acceptable limits. Since he'd taken the largest share, he figured he ought to take the lead on this as well.

As for the remaining half of the funds, per the prearranged agreement, one-third—5,000 Galleons—went to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.

The justification was that dragons fell under their jurisdiction, so it made sense for them to receive a larger portion.

Everyone knew it was just a pretext, but no one objected.

After all, Kyle had secured the money, and logically and morally, the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures deserved a share.

Chris almost burst out laughing. He managed to hold it in, but his shoulders were visibly shaking.

He'd gone out for a bit, and returned with an extra 5,000 Galleons in funding—without having to lift a finger. What a fantastic feeling.

Beside him, Mr. Weasley clicked his tongue with a hint of envy... The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office could really use some funding too. But he knew the chances of Bones approving that were slim.

The Ministry's focus was entirely on the fight against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. At this point, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office barely had a voice at all.

If he hadn't insisted on staying in his position, that department would've been temporarily shut down the moment Dumbledore announced the Order of the Phoenix was merging with the Auror force.