Many voices cried out at once in excitement and relief: Harry's group shouting greetings, the witches and wizards conducting their business around them calling out respectful acknowledgments, and even the normally reserved Gringotts goblins murmuring amongst themselves.
After a brief flurry of respectful greetings that echoed chaotically through the vast hall, the clamor of the grand entrance hall fell into sudden silence.
The crowd that had been pressed together ahead of Bryan Watson parted of its own accord, flowing aside like water around a stone, opening a clear path for the young wizard who walked forward at a leisurely pace. Every single eye in the hall followed his progress with attention, filled with a reverence that bordered on awe.
What had truly happened in that courtroom the day Harry Potter stood trial before the Ministry?
How had Cornelius Fudge—Minister for Magic for over a decade, seemingly unshakeable in his power fallen so spectacularly from his position?
How had Amelia Bones, a department head with no political base, withstood the overwhelming pressure from the old pure-blood families and their wide networks, and claimed the Minister's seat for herself against all odds?
Those who knew the real answers kept them close, revealing nothing to curious inquirers. But that silence didn't stop ordinary people from drawing the obvious conclusion: that all of it, somehow, traced back to Bryan Watson.
There was simply no question about it in anyone's mind. Watson was the most powerful wizard in magical Britain today—perhaps in all of Europe. His influence was undeniable, widespread and was impossible to ignore.
Even the new 'Acting' Minister, Amelia Bones, couldn't quite match him in terms of sheer authority and presence—for Bones was, at the end of the day, an ordinary witch elevated by extraordinary circumstances. She possessed none of the overwhelming magical power that set Watson apart and made grown wizards instinctively step aside when he approached.
Harry noticed with satisfaction that the witches and wizards who had been grumbling loudest at Gringotts' decision only moments ago while complaining bitterly about the violation of traditional neutrality, about the threat to their assets—made absolutely no move to vent their frustrations at the man who had ultimately caused it all.
Instead, one by one, they fell quiet like candles being snuffed out. They bowed their heads respectfully or stepped aside to show their respect for Professor Watson's passage. Some even averted their eyes, as though his gaze might burn them.
Fear, Harry realized. It wasn't just respect. It was fear.
He caught a glimpse of the Malfoy group from the corner of his eye, and began watching their reactions with interest.
Even these duplicitous, contemptible wizards stood with lips pressed shut in tense silence. Their pale faces had turned a distinctly sickly shade of green.
All of them wore that same expression of suppressed terror—except one.
"What brings you here to Gringotts, Bryan? I wouldn't have expected to see you away from the Ministry during such a crisis."
Remus was the first to fully recover from the surprise of Bryan's sudden appearance. He stepped forward to meet his friend and colleague with a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face.
"Oh? Didn't you send a Patronus message specifically saying that Harry had something urgent to discuss with me?"
Bryan raised one eyebrow in mild inquiry, his tone perfectly composed and reasonable.
"Well, yes, I did send that message, but I assumed—I thought you'd send a reply, perhaps arrange a meeting later this evening—"
Remus's voice trailed off, clearly caught off guard by the immediate personal response.
Remus wasn't the only one surprised by Bryan's prompt arrival—Harry himself hadn't expected it either, hadn't dared to hope for such direct attention.
The Ministry had Professor Watson pulled frantically in a dozen different directions at once, managing crisis after crisis. Harry had assumed at best he might get a written response, or perhaps a brief meeting squeezed in sometime next week. He hadn't expected Professor Watson to drop everything and come the moment the message reached him.
"Of course, you're absolutely right to be surprised—"
Bryan gave them both a conspiratorial wink, and a hint of mischief broke through his normally calm, composed expression, making him look suddenly younger and more approachable.
"It's also a convenient excuse to sneak away for a bit. You have no idea how many tedious meetings I've been trapped in today. Your message was a perfect escape route."
'Right! Of course. I shouldn't have hoped for anything more.'
Harry pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to suppress the small, foolish part of him that had been pleased to think Professor Watson had dropped everything specifically for him.
Bryan's steady gaze drifted past Remus's shoulder and settled on the cluster of pure-blood wizards. The same people who had been so arrogant and demanding with the goblin managers just moments ago were now a picture of perfect restraint.
The Malfoys and their wealthy companions stood with heads slightly bowed and shoulders drawn defensively in, none of them willing or daring to meet Bryan's violet eyes directly. They looked like reprimanded children caught in wrongdoing, uncertain whether punishment was coming.
"Ah, Draco—"
After sweeping the group with his assessing gaze, Bryan's attention landed specifically on Draco who was sandwiched protectively between his father Lucius and his mother Narcissa. The boy was visibly flustered, and a thread of warmth worked its way through Bryan's composed expression.
"How was your summer holiday?"
"Er—I—that is—"
Draco, who had been doing his best to disappear into the background and avoid notice, went completely white at being directly addressed. His pale face drained of what little color remained. He nodded jerkily, mechanically, his words were stumbling clumsily over each other.
"Good evening, Professor Watson, sir—summer has been—it's been quite acceptable—"
The cowering spectacle that Draco made of himself had Harry narrowing his eyes. Behind Harry, Ron nudged Hermione sharply in the ribs with his elbow, clearly wanting to comment on Draco's behavior. But Hermione responded with nothing more than a fierce, warning glare that said 'not now, you idiot.'
Bryan gave a pleasant nod in response to Draco's stuttering greeting. He seemed—or at least, he appeared to everyone watching—not to notice anything particularly unusual about Draco's nervous behavior.
Without sparing the Malfoy family another glance or word, Bryan turned his attention smoothly to the elderly goblin manager who had been overseeing the entire confrontation.
"Everything proceeding smoothly this afternoon, Bogrod?"
"There have been one or two minor difficulties today, Mr. Watson, sir—"
Bogrod attempted his skillful, fawning smile—the expression he'd perfected over decades of managing difficult customers. But under the weight of Bryan's calm imposing gaze, he found himself straightening instinctively.
"Nothing we cannot overcome with proper application of goblin expertise, of course. Gringotts Britain stands firmly behind the Ministry's initiatives—and behind you personally, Mr. Watson."
Even as he made this declaration, the old goblin's clever eyes slid sideways, seemingly by pure accident, toward the Malfoy group and their companions.
The very moment Bryan Watson had stepped through Gringotts' doors, every Death Eater and Death Eater sympathizer in the crowded room had understood: their plan was finished.
Now, their only remaining hope was that the goblins wouldn't say a single word to Watson about their attempt to access Bellatrix Lestrange's vault.
Unfortunately for them, the warning glances they shot desperately toward the goblin managers did not go unnoticed by Bryan's eyes.
"Professor Watson—"
Harry met the hard, hostile stares bearing down on him from the Malfoy group without flinching or looking away. His green eyes blazed with determination. He spoke clearly and plainly:
"They were trying to access Bellatrix Lestrange's personal vault—specifically to take away half of the Black family wealth stored inside it. But if I recall correctly, the Ministry issued a formal notice stating that any escaped Death Eaters who fail to turn themselves in voluntarily would have all their Gringotts assets completely seized."
The silence that fell over Gringotts' great entrance hall made Harry's words ring out like a bell tolling in a cathedral.
Every eye turned to stare at the Malfoy group.
"You little bastard! You interfering little shit!"
Bessel let out a shriek of uncontrolled rage. Her wrist snapped up with frightening speed, her wand was suddenly in her hand though no one had seen her draw it. A curse was already forming on her lips—
"Don't be a fool, Bessel! Stop!"
The reckless, suicidal move sent the other pure-blood wizards scrambling into action. They closed around her instantly from all sides, multiple hands were seizing her arms roughly before she could do the unthinkable.
"Do you want to get us all killed right here??!"
Lucius wrenched the wand forcibly from Bessel's trembling hand. He turned on her with eyes blazing with fury and terror combined, his voice emerged as a controlled but absolutely venomous hiss.
"Let go of me this instant, Lucius! Take your hands off me!"
Bessel snarled like a rabid animal, thrashing violently against the multiple hands holding her. Saliva flew from her mouth as she screamed.
"I'll kill him—that filthy little half-blood ruined everything—"
"Enough! That is enough!"
Lucius's voice cracked through the air like a whip.
"If you don't want to bring everything crashing down around all our heads, shut your mouth right now!"
"Who do you think you are, Lucius—you wouldn't dare—mmph!"
Bessel was still raving, when Narcissa raised her wand in one smooth motion and cast a silent spell that sealed the woman's lips shut.
Bryan Watson watched the struggling woman—still straining against the hands holding her, still throwing him looks of defiant hatred with wild eyes.
Something flickered briefly in the depths of Bryan's pale violet eyes but he remained seemingly calm in a way that Harry, Remus, and the others couldn't quite decipher or understand.
"My sincere apologies, Mr. Watson—"
Lucius turned away from the silenced, struggling Bessel to address Bryan with a slightly breathless inclination of his head.
"The situation is not quite… as young Mr. Potter describes it. Please allow me to explain. We are just as firmly committed to supporting the Ministry's decisions—and yours as anyone in this hall. We simply feel that perhaps the Ministry's stated intention was to seize only the personal assets belonging to Bellatrix Lestrange herself—whereas the portion of the Black family fortune that she inherited from her aunt might be another matter entirely, legally distinct—"
His words came quickly, desperately like a lawyer's argument.
"Ha. Very clever of you, Lucius."
Bryan's smile was small, almost admiring.
"You spotted the technical ambiguity in the Ministry's notice and came here to test your luck—see whether you could salvage that gold, is that it?"
Greengrass, Nott Senior, Crabbe, Goyle—all of them exhaled quietly in something resembling relief. They hadn't been immediately arrested or attacked. Even Bessel stopped her struggling.
"We apologize most sincerely for any… misunderstanding, Mr. Watson—"
Lucius held Bryan's sharp gaze for a long, tense moment. Something shifted in those grey Malfoy eyes. He bent his head the smallest possible fraction.
"I can tell you plainly, Lucius—"
Bryan's voice remained pleasant but carried absolute authority beneath the pleasant surface.
"Whatever the historical origin of the assets held in that particular vault, whatever complicated inheritance laws might apply under other circumstances, the simple fact that those assets are currently held under Bellatrix Lestrange's name means they are entirely subject to Ministry seizure should she fail to turn herself in voluntarily by the stated deadline. Is that sufficiently clear?"
"We will take your counsel to heart—"
Lucius nodded with stiff formality.
"In that case, since our business here is concluded, we shall take our leave—"
And with that statement, under the eyes of everyone present, the entire Malfoy party turned and made swiftly for the exit.
"You can't let them go like this, Professor Watson!"
Harry watched as the professor made no move to stop them. He felt a jolt of desperate urgency surge through him. He closed the distance to Bryan in two quick steps and leaned in close, dropping his voice to something low:
"That woman—Professor, the one Malfoy took the wand from—I think she might be one of the Death Eaters who broke out of Azkaban during the mass escape. I think she might actually be Bellatrix Lestrange!"
"Is that actually possible, Bryan? Could it be her?"
Even without Harry's earlier warning about the vision, Remus had already grown suspicious during the confrontation.
He had crossed paths personally with Voldemort's most notorious Death Eaters more than a decade ago, during the first war. And even among that vicious pack of fanatics and murderers, Bellatrix Lestrange had carved out a name for herself that made other Death Eaters step back and give her space.
The woman's wild, unhinged behavior just now had felt unmistakably like her signature madness.
"Could it be Polyjuice Potion creating the disguise? Or perhaps advanced human Transfiguration?"
Remus lowered his voice significantly, leaning in close to Bryan. His expression was grave with concern.
"Perhaps—but I couldn't spot any obvious sign when I looked at her—"
Bryan's gaze tracked the Malfoy party's silhouettes as they dissolved gradually into the shadows at the hall's far end. Something complex passed through his pale violet eyes like clouds across the moon. But he reined it in almost immediately, his expression smoothed back to neutral calm.
His gaze settled on Harry with careful consideration.
"That aside for the moment—what was it you wanted to talk to me about so urgently, Harry?"
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