Hogwarts: I Am Such a Model Wizard

Chapter 890: Another Theft at Gringotts

The heavy shackles were effortlessly sliced in half by Sectumsempra, followed shortly by those on the other side.

With several resounding crashes, the chains that had bound the dragon all snapped and slammed to the ground.

The massive stone hands vanished as well, but the dragon hadn’t yet realized it was free. It continued to lash out at Kyle on instinct.

The deafening roars and booming echoes reverberated through the deep vaults. Fire surged along the rock walls, and loose stones rained down like hail.

A curved shield appeared above Kyle’s head, blocking falling debris and deflecting the dragon’s flames away.

He tried to calm the dragon, but just then, a stone landed directly on the strange iron plate Oren had tossed earlier, producing a crisp metallic clang.

The dragon let out a hoarse, ragged roar and stumbled backward, visibly trembling, a flicker of raw, human-like fear crossing its face.

As Kyle got closer, he saw it bore hideous scars across its face—some deep, others shallow.

Just a sound... and it frightened the largest Ironbelly this badly...

Kyle’s lips moved—he seemed to mutter a curse.

With another sharp flick of his wand, several enormous iron chains rose into the air and exploded into a shower of metallic fragments right in front of the dragon.

Seeing this, a gleam returned to the Ironbelly’s once-cloudy eyes. It finally understood.

The shackles were broken.

It was free.

At the same moment, Kyle raised his wand and pointed toward the ceiling of the tunnel.

“Confringo!”

A series of explosions burst overhead, accompanied by what sounded like goblin screams—but Kyle didn’t spare them a glance.

Moments later, a jagged hole blasted open in the tunnel ceiling, and a sliver of sunlight pierced the gloom, falling across the dragon’s wings.

The beam was small—barely the size of a Bludger—but that little ray of light froze the dragon in place.

“Fly,” Kyle said softly.

With a thunderous roar, the dragon reared up, spread its wings, and soared toward the opening with all its might.

Kyle turned around, about to destroy the iron plate—but stopped cold.

He’d noticed purple cracks had appeared on the stone that had landed on the plate. A single flap from the dragon’s wings shattered the stone completely, sending fragments scattering.

“Curse magic?”

Kyle’s eye twitched. Good thing I didn’t touch it.

The stone had crumbled to dust—whatever curse was on that thing, it wasn’t meant to be survived.

Without hesitation, he slashed his wand forward.

The shards of stone on the ground leapt into the air, reshaping into jagged stone spikes that surged toward a nearby vault.

At that exact moment, Oren had just used the goblin named Kragg to open the intricate vault door. He turned—only to see the surprise Kyle had prepared for him.

The spikes flew like a swarm of locusts, blotting out the air.

Oren dove to the ground, completely ignoring appearances, and barely dodged in time.

The stone shards crashed into the vault, shattering the towering piles of gold coins and goblets, sending them flying in all directions.

“Not holding back, are you? Were you really trying to kill me?” Oren climbed up grinning. “I did teach you once, you know.”

“We’re even,” Kyle sneered. “Didn’t you just try the same thing? I held off the dragon for you, and instead of thanking me, you tried to curse me. Classic Death Eater—absolutely vile.”

“Too bad you didn’t fall for it,” Oren sighed. “Not that I thought it’d work. After all, you have a dragon… and a certain magical creature even more troublesome than a dragon...”

He gave Kyle a knowing look.

He still didn’t understand why there’d been another Kyle at Godric’s Hollow—but he had glimpsed the massive serpent from a distance, nearly fifty feet long.

And judging by Voldemort’s unhinged reaction afterward, the Dark Lord not only knew about the snake, but clearly valued it highly.

Oren shook his head, pushing the thought away.

“Regret it?” Kyle asked, raising his wand again.

But this time, Oren was ready.

A beam of yellow light and another of red shot from their wands simultaneously, colliding mid-air. At the point of impact, a glowing orb of orange light formed, crackling with sparks.

The scattered sparks struck nearby rock walls, triggering a series of sharp, echoing blasts.

Both men gritted their teeth, gripping their wands tight, channeling all their strength to push the glowing sphere toward the other.

Oren had been confident at first. He knew he couldn’t beat this former student in a fair duel, but he hadn’t thought he’d lose in raw magical force.

This magic lock—this tethered beam—was one he had deliberately provoked. If he couldn’t win head-on, heʼd force a draw through other means.

But that confidence quickly shattered.

The glowing orb in the center was inching toward him—slowly but relentlessly.

This... is absurd!

As it neared his wand tip, Oren began to panic. The wand in his grip was burning hot—on the verge of exploding.

He couldn’t keep going like this.

Taking a sharp breath, Oren swung his wand upward, trying to hurl the light sphere away.

But he was too close.

The instant the magical connection between the wands snapped, the once-stable power erupted violently.

BOOM!

The orb exploded in a deafening blast.

Even with his Shield Charm prepared in advance, Oren was thrown backwards, crashing into the vault’s stone wall.

His legs twisted at grotesque angles, and his body felt as if a herd of Graphorns had stampeded over him. The pain was so severe, he couldn’t even cry out.

Even after witnessing Kyle’s strength firsthand, he hadn’t expected to lose in magical power too.

Are all fresh graduates like this now...?

And it still wasn’t over.

In the blink of an eye, a massive boulder—nearly the size of the dragon—broke loose from the ceiling and came crashing down onto him.

The impact shook the chamber, smoke and dust billowing everywhere. The vault fell silent once more.

Kyle walked forward, frowning slightly at the boulder.

Something was off. There was no blood.

If Oren had really been crushed, it wouldn’t be this clean.

Sure enough—

A second later, a plume of black mist rose from behind the boulder, rapidly converging and lunging toward Kyle.

Kyle calmly took a step back and flicked his wand. A wall of crimson flames surged into existence before him.

The raging Fiendfyre bathed the entire underground chamber in red, and the temperature soared rapidly.

The black mist came to an abrupt halt just in front of the fire, then reversed direction even faster, hovering in the air as it reshaped into Oren’s upper body—making him look disturbingly like a humanoid Obscurial.

He looked terrible—his hair singed into curls, and a faint trail of white smoke drifting up from his head.

Moments later, the black mist condensed fully into Oren’s form and dropped down across from Kyle.

“That was close. Nearly got myself killed,” he muttered, pointing his wand at his leg and forcibly straightening it. His face went pale from the pain.

“You really don’t hold back.” A long strip of bandage shot out from his wand, wrapping around his leg.

It didn’t look great, but at least it would hold—barely.

“I didn’t have a choice. You made the first move,” Kyle said with a shrug. “That cursed metal plate of yours wasn’t exactly merciful, either.”

Even as the words left his mouth, both of them raised their wands in near-perfect sync.

“Sectumsempra!”

“Avada Kedavra!”

The two spells clashed in midair, but this time, they didn’t form a magical tether. Instead, they deflected each other in the air and flew off in opposite directions.

The Laceration Curse sliced a long, narrow crack into the rock wall. The Killing Curse shot down the passage.

“I found them, they’re over—”

A goblin driving a cart rushed into the chamber—just in time to be hit directly by the Killing Curse.

The goblin was flung through the air and landed with a thud, lying motionless.

For a moment, Kyle was at a loss for words. The deflected spell had been completely out of control—far too much of a coincidence. You couldn’t fake timing that perfect.

Now driverless, the goblin’s cart careened ahead uncontrollably and slammed into the one in front of it.

The violent crash knocked both carts off their tracks, reducing them to scattered, broken parts.

Meanwhile, more goblins appeared at the far end of the tunnel, making the already chaotic scene even more frenzied.

“Death Eaters again—they dare to kill a goblin!”

“Kill him! Kill him!”

“The dragon escaped! Damn it, he let the dragon go!”

...

More carts appeared on the rails, the noise drawing closer by the second.

“The goblins are almost here,” Kyle said, turning to Oren. “Where’s your backup? Don’t tell me you’re the only Death Eater they sent. If that’s true, you must really be in a sorry state.”

“Unfortunately, I am the only one,” Oren said flatly. “The rest were just dead weight. I’m better off without them.”

“They’d make great meat shields,” Kyle said, giving his wand a flick. Several spells shot straight at Oren. “Like right now.”

Oren gritted his teeth and deflected the spells but didn’t retaliate. Instead, he turned and rushed into the vault, grabbing the nearest golden cup.

“Argh!”

He let out a sharp scream. Steam hissed between his fingers as if he’d grabbed a red-hot iron brand.

But even so, Oren refused to let go.

“That what you’re looking for?” Kyle raised an eyebrow.

“Of course... the vault... the golden cup... fits the Dark Lord’s specifications exactly...” Oren said through clenched teeth, his voice shaking.

It was clear the pain was excruciating. In just moments, the cup had already fractured into over a hundred copies, clattering across the floor.

Oren turned back into a cloud of black mist.

“You think you can get away?” Kyle raised his wand, and the surrounding Fiendfyre twisted like a living barrier.

He had to admit—this spell Voldemort invented was impressive. It let the user fly and move quickly. But it wasn’t true Obscurus magic, and it wasn’t invincible.

Oren had only escaped the falling boulder earlier because of his speed—nothing more.

Kyle had no intention of giving him a second chance.

The Fiendfyre sealed off the path. Even a real Obscurus would be scorched getting through.

“I think... I can,” Oren’s voice echoed from within the swirling black mist as he darted rapidly through the vault.

The treasures within, as soon as they touched the mist, began replicating just like the golden cup. Soon the vault was overflowing, and a tidal wave of gold began pouring out.

The heat from the enchanted gold radiated intense heat, blending with the Fiendfyre until the entire underground chamber felt like a furnace.

Kragg, the goblin still under Oren’s Imperius Curse, stood right at the vault entrance. If the gold flooded out, it would drown him instantly.

In that critical moment, Kyle made a snap decision. He gave up pursuing Oren and swung his wand toward Kragg. A surge of invisible force hurled the goblin aside, out of harm’s way.

Kragg was the only one who knew the truth. If both he and Oren died here, Kyle couldn’t be sure the greedy, unscrupulous goblins wouldn’t pin the entire mess on him.

It was entirely possible.

Even if he could eventually clear his name, the time and trouble it would cost weren’t worth it.

Oren clearly understood that too.

Seizing the moment while Kyle was saving Kragg, he flew straight toward the tunnel above.

As the mist passed him, Kyle felt a massive impact—he was slammed backward and crashed into the cliff wall.

The move left Oren, now airborne, briefly stunned. Did I just hit him?

No... I don’t think so...

Then why did Kyle suddenly go flying? Faking it?

But there was no time to dwell on it. A swarm of goblins had already arrived, leaping from their carts one after another.

The black mist accelerated again and managed to shoot through the upper tunnel opening just before the goblins’ spells could strike.

A close escape.

From high above, Oren looked down at the furious goblins below and couldn’t help but smirk.

The plan hadn’t gone exactly as expected, but the result was perfect—he got what he came for, and he’d played the goblins for fools.

Perhaps this time, he’d finally rise higher within the ranks of the Death Eaters—and gain access to those long-guarded secrets known only to the old guard.

Like, why was Voldemort so obsessed with that item hidden in Gringotts? The moment Bellatrix—who had been entrusted with its safekeeping—died, he had insisted on moving it, even at the cost of offending the goblins.

After all, if Voldemort had just been patient, the goblins would likely have sided with him eventually.

So why the rush? Why willingly sacrifice an ally and risk pushing them to the other side… all for a golden cup?

That question echoed in Oren’s mind as he soared, adrenaline surging. In his excitement, he didn’t immediately notice the sunlight overhead dimming—blocked by something massive.

It took him a few seconds to realize.

A column of searing flame came crashing down from above.

The dragon hadn’t left.

No—incredibly, it had circled back… and now, it collided head-on with the escaping Oren.

And the golden cup still clutched in his hand was continuing to multiply, releasing the unmistakable scent of Gringotts vault magic—something that immediately agitated the dragon.

That left no room for doubt.

The Ironbelly unleashed its fury in a torrent of flames, relentlessly chasing what it perceived as a “goblin,” determined to crush it and vent its rage.

But the ones who suffered most were the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley.

Not only did they have to dodge golden cups raining from the sky, they also had to fend off a rampaging dragon and scramble to put out fires on their rooftops.

Bloody hell—why is there a dragon in Diagon Alley?!

Of course, some people had their eyes on the golden cups, thinking they might grab one and claim it.

But they paid for that greed almost instantly—screaming as they were burned, only to discover the cups were worthless counterfeits conjured by the Gemino Curse.

“Damn it—what bastard...”

A wave of curses rang out, echoing through every corner of Diagon Alley.

Still, a few clever ones began to piece things together.

The Gemino Curse and Flagrante Curse on the cups were clearly Gringotts defenses. Which could only mean one thing: someone had broken into Gringotts—and retrieved something through illicit means.

Gringotts... had been robbed again?

Someone quickly caught onto the key point.

The reason it was “again” was because six years ago, Gringotts had also been breached.

At the time, the vault’s overseers claimed that Vault 713 was empty—that whatever had been stored there had already been removed.

But surely they wouldn’t say the same thing again.

After centuries of perfect security, Gringotts had now been robbed twice in recent memory. It was getting hard to believe this was just coincidence.

The Daily Prophet wasted no time, immediately dispatching reporters to the scene.

But Gringotts responded just as quickly. Rita Skeeter hadn’t even made it through the front door before a group of Aurors—and a battalion of tense goblins—blocked her path.

Even seeing the goblins’ determination, Rita only gave the scene a quick look and then turned to leave without protest.

Whether she really left, of course... no one could say for sure.

...

Meanwhile, things inside Gringotts were anything but calm.

With Oren gone, the goblins turned their attention to Kyle.

“They’re working together! Arrest him!” Bogrod shrieked.

“You’d better think before you speak,” Kyle said coldly, one hand gripping the goblin Kragg, the other holding his wand as he locked eyes with the elder goblin.

“Gringotts is really something. Not only was one of your own replaced by a Death Eater, I went out of my way to help—and now you’re accusing me of being in on it.”

“Fine then. This isn’t over. I’ll be reporting everything—everything—to the Minister for Magic.”

“You really think we’ll just take your word for it?” Bogrod snapped, clearly not backing down.

“It doesn’t matter if you believe me. I have proof.” Kyle hoisted Kragg into the air. “All we need to do is send him to the Ministry. The Aurors will have the truth out of his head in seconds. Let’s see how long you can keep denying it.”

Bogrod fell silent.

As an old goblin, he could see it plainly—Kragg had been put under the Imperius Curse.

And the caster? Almost certainly the Death Eater who had escaped. The one who’d taken a goblin’s place.

If this wizard was telling the truth, Gringotts was in serious trouble.

“What, planning to snatch the goblin from me?” Kyle said, eyes narrowing as he watched Bogrod’s expression shift.

“We’ll deal with our own kind. No need for wizards to interfere.”

“I don’t usually care what goblins do. But I’m still missing 6,300 Galleons, and Gringotts will be giving me an explanation.”

“And besides...” Kyle looked up. “You don’t get to decide whether wizards interfere.”

From the very same breach in the ceiling, seven or eight Aurors dropped into the underground vault.

Leading them was Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office—an old acquaintance.