Chapter 13: Maurice Doesn’t Have Many Good Days Left

Maurice followed Gorlin Leyrie to a more secluded spot, slipping out of Harry and Hermione’s sight.

The carriage remained where it was, Harry and Hermione still seated inside, the atmosphere tense.

“Why did he want to speak with Professor Maurice?” Hermione whispered.

“I don’t know,” Harry shook his head, his gaze involuntarily trailing after Maurice and Gorlin Leyrie’s departing figures. “But I think… it might have something to do with that vault earlier.”

“That empty vault?” Hermione frowned, pondering briefly before speaking softly, “What was that little pouch? It looked important.”

Harry was also puzzling over the question but knew nothing. He could only whisper, “Maybe we shouldn’t ask too much. Professor Maurice will tell us… if he wants to.”

...

Elsewhere.

Gorlin Leyrie led Maurice to a quieter corner.

“Mr. Maurice,” Gorlin Leyrie began, “I am not questioning you, but I feel… there are some things you should be frank about with us goblins.”

Maurice stopped, hands clasped behind his back. “Oh? What do you mean?”

Gorlin Leyrie narrowed his eyes and spoke more directly.

“Stop playing these little games, Mr. Maurice. Though we goblins rarely interfere in wizard affairs, that doesn’t mean we’re fools.”

He snorted coldly, folding his arms, recounting Maurice’s alleged “transgressions.”

“For example, a year ago, at a highly sensitive and utterly inappropriate moment, you suddenly stepped forward, binding us goblins with certain pure-blood wizard families in the same camp, provoking public hostility and resentment toward us—wasn’t that just to get our attention?”

“After we goblins cut ties with you, you led an assault on Gringotts, causing incalculable damage.”

“And then, just now at the entrance to Gringotts, those words you deliberately spoke—weren’t they meant specifically for us goblins? Mr. Maurice, you never act without purpose, and I must admit—your words carry weight.”

Maurice did not respond immediately.

He raised a hand, gently adjusting his hat brim with a slow, graceful movement, as if contemplating or weighing something.

“Mr. Gorlin Leyrie,” he finally spoke after a moment, “I’m glad to hear you have such keen insight. The wisdom of the goblin race has always commanded my respect.”

Gorlin Leyrie said nothing, merely watching Maurice coldly, waiting for his next words.

Maurice bowed his head slightly, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone: “You’re right. Everything I’ve done was deliberate. And I’m certain Gringotts—or rather, the goblin race—has long noticed this. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stopped me today to speak here.”

“So,” Gorlin Leyrie probed, “what exactly do you want? We goblins don’t enjoy riddles.”

Maurice smiled faintly, smoothing his collar. “I don’t need to ‘take’ anything from the goblin race. What I need is simply for you to ‘understand’ one thing—the world is quietly changing, and you, Mr. Gorlin Leyrie, must adapt to this change faster than anyone else.”

“Change?” Gorlin Leyrie raised an eyebrow, his tone sharpening with caution.

“Exactly,” Maurice whispered. “The wizarding world’s order is no longer stable. The calm on the surface masks deeper fractures. The oppression from pure-blood families and the Ministry of Magic they nearly control against all non-pure-bloods and non-human races—and one thing we both know well—the goblin race’s patience is nearing its limit.”

Gorlin Leyrie’s eyes narrowed sharply. He didn’t reply immediately but scrutinized Maurice as if trying to gauge how much he truly knew.

Maurice didn’t wait for an answer and continued: “You know, the goblin race has endured for centuries.”

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“Endured the laws and rules imposed by wizards, endured the restrictions on your magic rights, endured being excluded from the centers of power.”

“You and your kin have long grown weary of this injustice, and the Ministry’s disregard and arrogance only tighten the tension.”

Gorlin Leyrie’s expression shifted slightly but quickly regained composure.

“Mr. Maurice, your words are bold. On what grounds do you think our goblin race would commit something like ‘rebellion’?”

Faced with Gorlin Leyrie’s doubt, Maurice sneered lightly. “I never said ‘rebellion,’ Mr. Gorlin Leyrie—that’s your word, not mine. But I’m sure a goblin as clever as you understands that the current situation is an opportunity for your people.”

“Opportunity?” Gorlin Leyrie repeated.

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Maurice’s smile deepened. “Opportunity, Mr. Gorlin Leyrie, means choice. The goblin race has always been on the fringes of the wizarding world, but when the wizarding world begins to collapse from within, that is precisely the chance to redefine your status.”

“You can choose to keep enduring, to continue as ‘partners’ of the pure-blood families, obeying those who make the rules; or you can choose… to stand in a new position, one that is more equal and autonomous.”

“Is this incitement?” Gorlin Leyrie’s voice unintentionally lowered.

“Incitement?” Maurice shrugged, glancing at him. “No, you’re not worth incitement. I’m merely stating facts.”

“Do you think the pure-blood families haven’t noticed you and your people gathering strength?”

“They know—but choose to remain silent.”

“They believe that as long as Gringotts operates, they can continue to exploit your labor and resources, ignoring your demands.”

“But they’re wrong—because you, Mr. Gorlin Leyrie, and those behind you, are far smarter than them and understand the importance of timing better.”

Gorlin Leyrie remained silent but clenched his hands tightly, as if suppressing some emotion.

Seeing this, Maurice lowered his voice further: “You know I speak the truth. And—” He paused, meeting Gorlin Leyrie’s eyes challengingly, “if I can see this, do you think the Ministry of Magic hasn’t noticed?”

This statement struck Gorlin Leyrie like a blade, freezing his expression before he quickly regained composure. “If the pure-blood families have noticed, what can they do? We goblins never rely on anyone.”

“Is that so?” Maurice raised an eyebrow, tone tinged with mockery. “Maybe they can’t do much now, but you know the Ministry never waits until a situation spirals out of control to act. They won’t allow any threat to exist, especially a race like the goblins with independent power. And when that day comes, will you and those behind you be ready?”

Gorlin Leyrie fell silent, his gaze drifting as if lost in thought.

“Mr. Maurice,” he finally spoke in a low voice, “why tell me all this? What exactly do you want?”

Maurice smiled faintly, straightening his hat brim once more. His tone was gentle: “I don’t want anything from you, Mr. Gorlin Leyrie. I only hope that when the future changes, the goblin race can stand in a better position. And that—” his voice grew firmer, “does not mean standing against wizards, but cooperating with the right people.”

Gorlin Leyrie did not respond immediately, seeming to ponder Maurice’s implication.

After a long moment, he nodded slightly. Though his tone remained cold, it was less hostile than before. “Cooperate? You think you are the ‘right person’?”

Maurice bowed his head slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You’ll find out.”

With that, he adjusted his collar and turned to walk back to where Harry and Hermione waited.

Watching the three depart from Gringotts, Gorlin Leyrie remained standing in a corner of the hall.

He reflected briefly before turning and striding quickly through the lobby toward a hidden black door deep within Gringotts.

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Two goblin guards stood flanking the door. Upon seeing Gorlin Leyrie, they straightened and slowly pushed the door open.

Behind it lay a narrow corridor leading to a secret chamber.

The room was dim, filled with an oppressive atmosphere.

At its center sat a small but commanding goblin, his skin paler, ears sharper, radiating an undeniable aura of authority.

He was bent over an ancient-looking ledger when Gorlin Leyrie entered. Slowly, his gaze lifted and fixed on the newcomer.

“My lord,” Gorlin Leyrie bowed his head. “Maurice just came to retrieve that item. He also… mentioned ‘change,’ implying something…”

The goblin lord narrowed his eyes slightly, unreadable. He set down his quill, speaking with a calmness that unsettled.

“What did he imply?”

“He didn’t say outright, but he said—our patience is nearly at its limit.” Gorlin Leyrie’s voice lowered as he added, “My lord, Maurice’s words made me feel… perhaps he already knows about our plan.”

At this, the goblin lord chuckled lightly, a cold, mocking sound. “Few know of that matter. You’ve been outwitted, Gorlin Leyrie.”

“What?” Gorlin Leyrie was stunned, his usual coldness replaced by unease. “My lord, do you mean he doesn’t know?”

“He was merely probing,” the goblin lord said slowly. “Maurice is clever; he uses words to achieve his ends—like making you believe he knows much. In truth, he may know nothing. But your reaction just now was enough for him to be certain of something.”

Gorlin Leyrie’s face darkened with embarrassment. He clenched his fists instinctively. “So what now? My lord, should we… send someone to silence him?”

At the word “silence,” the goblin lord finally raised his head, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “Silence him? No. He’s far more interesting than you think.”

“Interesting?” Gorlin Leyrie looked puzzled.

“Maurice is a clever man,” the goblin lord said slowly. “But clever people rarely get involved in conflicts they cannot win. Even if he suspects something, he won’t act hastily. He’s more like a cunning fox, acting only when he sees a profit.”

Gorlin Leyrie frowned. “So we just let him be?”

“Let him be?” The goblin lord chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No. I have other plans.”

He paused, then instructed Gorlin Leyrie, “Inform the pure-blood families—they need to know one thing—Maurice has returned, and he’s making new moves.”

“Maurice… has returned?” Gorlin Leyrie repeated, confusion flickering in his eyes. “My lord, is this to have the pure-blood families… deal with him for us?”

“Not deal with him—test him.” The goblin lord closed the ledger gently. “Maurice wants to cooperate with us, does he not? If he can’t handle this little trouble, then there’s no point in cooperating with him.”

Gorlin Leyrie was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Understood, my lord. I will arrange it immediately.”

The goblin lord nodded slightly, picking up his quill and resuming work on the ledger as if their conversation never happened.

Gorlin Leyrie left the room, his expression still dark and unsettled.

As he walked back down the corridor, he muttered curses under his breath at Maurice’s cunning.

Yet—

That fellow Maurice won’t have many good days ahead, will he?