Pure-blood families weren't fools, as expected. Having them as unwitting allies would certainly ease Erwin's path forward. Still, they likely hadn't foreseen the full implications—their vision was too narrow. Even in the Muggle world, such innovations had no precedent yet. The true power of mobile payments would only emerge after rapid advancements in Great Britain. In later years, it became just another transaction tool, but users lacked the boldness or means to control currency flows.
Erwin was different. He wasn't just introducing mobile payments; he was overhauling the entire banking system himself. In essence, he was siphoning Galleons from the whole wizarding world.
"Any word from Gringotts?" Erwin asked.
Old Tom replied, "We've sent scouts for intel. Those goblins are sharp about money matters—they've caught on to something, but they're powerless to act. They won't dare strike at wizards outright, though I doubt they'll take this lying down."
"Of course not," Erwin said. "They're far too greedy to let their vaults drain away. Stick to the plan. Let them stew a bit longer, build their desperation, and eventually, they'll crack. Then we strike. Goblins can bully house-elves, but they can't touch the rest of us."
Old Tom nodded. "One more thing."
Erwin glanced at him expectantly.
Old Tom continued, "There might be trouble with Professor Snape."
Erwin's face hardened. He shot up from his chair. "Out with it."
"As you ordered, we've been checking in every few days, offering aid and storing his reports. Three days ago, we reached out, but no response. Either the owl couldn't locate him, or he's in real danger."
"The owl hasn't come back?" Erwin pressed.
Old Tom shook his head. "Nothing."
Erwin dismissed him with a wave. "Carry on with your duties. I'll sort this out."
Old Tom left the office. Erwin closed his eyes, focusing inward. He'd never leave Snape without safeguards. Though his godfather lacked the Dark Mark, Erwin had etched tracking runes onto his robes—just in case he skipped the family crest. For good measure, a subtle sigil lingered on Snape's wand too.
Moments later, Erwin locked onto the signal.
Meanwhile, deep in the Forbidden Forest, Snape was hemmed in by a horde of black-robed figures. He slashed his wand, unleashing Sectumsempra. Deep gashes erupted across one attacker's chest, blood spraying as the man crumpled lifeless to the ground.
The others roared in fury and lunged, claws extending from their hands like daggers, glinting in the dim light.
Snape vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing behind them. Another flick of his wand dropped three more foes. But for every one he felled, dozens pressed forward—a relentless tide.
He scowled. He'd kicked a real hornet's nest this time.
A sultry voice cut through the chaos. "Severus Snape."
The attackers parted like a dark sea. A woman in a flowing black gown, her beauty striking and predatory, stepped forward. She stopped a few paces from Snape.
"Hand it over, Snape. It's vital to us. We have no desire to cross you, but we can't let you walk away with it."
"You won't stop me," Snape replied coolly.
"True enough," she admitted. "But we dwell in this forest by pact with your kind's most powerful—agreements that keep us bound here. That doesn't mean we sit idle while you pilfer our secrets. Do you really want to spark a war between our worlds over this?"
Snape's jaw tightened. Open conflict would complicate everything.
Then, a vortex swirled behind him. "War, you say? Are you certain you gutter-dwellers can survive it?"
Erwin materialized at Snape's side. "Godfather, you look like you've been through the wringer."
Surprise flickered in Snape's eyes, quickly masked by irritation. "Erwin, what in Merlin's name are you doing here? Leave—now. I can manage."
Erwin shook his head and turned to the woman. She eyed him appraisingly—pure Apparition, and from one so young?
"You're just a boy," she said. "I'll overlook your insolence for now. Since Snape's your godfather, convince him to return what he took. I'll let you both go."
Erwin chuckled. "Let us go? Bold words. What's this—vampires skulking in the Forbidden Forest suddenly itching for round two with the wizards?"
Her eyes narrowed, pupils dilating like a predator's. "You know what we are?"
Erwin smirked. "I don't need to. I can smell the rot on you from here. Let me hazard a guess: Lily Elise?"
She tilted her head. "A young wizard who knows my name. Flattering—and unexpected."
"Don't flatter yourself," Erwin shot back. "You're infamous enough. Of the thirteen vampire bloodlines, wizards purged twelve. Only the Evans family scraped by, then fled into hiding here. Out of some twisted mercy for 'biodiversity,' they let you linger. So what sparked this suicidal bravado—declaring war on the wizarding world?"
Lily Elise's expression soured, her composure cracking. Erwin's barb had stripped away her facade. No, they hadn't chosen this exile. None of the Forbidden Forest's dark denizens had.4
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