Erwin Cavendish knew he had to execute his performance flawlessly. Only by doing so could he pin the entire blame on Dolores Umbridge.
From his elevated position, Erwin scanned the crowd. Several wizards stood grim-faced, their original intent to expose him now crumbling into stunned silence. Erwin offered a subtle glance to Old Tom beside him. The old wizard nodded, a silent promise to remember every face in the crowd, to track down every dissenter later.
Erwin had promised singular leadership for the British wizarding world, and these dissenters were now marked targets. Staging this public display to identify them had been a calculated move.
The Cavendish family's demonstration was masterful. Erwin promised not to abandon the wizarding world, and the crowd cheered. He donated a thousand Galleons to St. Mungo's and vowed to provide employment for wandering wizards, further solidifying his support.
The appointment of a new Minister for Magic—one loyal to Erwin—sealed the transition. The new Minister immediately began restructuring the Ministry, framing every dismissal as a consequence of Umbridge's failed regime.
That afternoon, Scrimgeour, the stubborn head of the Auror Office, died during transport to Azkaban, allegedly ambushed by dark wizards. Erwin offered his public condolences, and a massive reorganization followed in the Auror ranks. Most were reassigned to guard Azkaban or transferred to administrative positions. The few new recruits were young—fresh Hogwarts graduates eager to serve the new order.
By the time another week had passed, the transformation was complete, though largely unknown to ordinary witches and wizards. The Daily Prophet and the Ministry now answered solely to Cavendish interests. The Malfoy family and their allies flourished, their wealth and influence expanding rapidly under the Cavendish umbrella. The hierarchy was clear: Cavendish at the apex, followed by the Malfoys and allied houses, with smaller factions beneath them—a structure mirroring successful consolidation models from abroad.
With the political landscape secured, Erwin turned his attention to the final obstacle: Gringotts. The bank was already practically obsolete. The rise of mobile payment systems had devastated their business. While the goblins possessed a talent for accounting, they had failed to grasp the speed of the information age.
In a single year, the goblin gold reserves had plummeted. The Cavendish family refused to store anything of true value there anymore, leaving the vaults filled with obsolete items and forgotten heirlooms. Erwin was ready to complete their downfall.
Three days later, the Cavendish family formally launched a new service: deposit belongings with the Cavendish family for a nominal fee, protected by a magical insurance agreement guaranteeing full compensation for any losses.
The Malfoys were the first to respond. Within a day, their Gringotts vaults were emptied, possessions transferred to the Cavendish Tower's fortified storage facilities. Then came the second, third, and fourth families. As the empty vaults multiplied, the goblins finally panicked.
Inside the Gringotts offices, high-ranking goblins gathered in a frantic council.
"We cannot continue like this," one hissed, his golden eyes flashing. "If this continues, Gringotts will be an empty shell!"
"That damned Cavendish," another growled. "What is his endgame?"
"We realized too late," a third lamented. "They've gotten the wizards dependent on using mobile credit! No one carries Galleons anymore. Even Diagon Alley shops use credit for transactions!"
"It is done," the first goblin snapped. "We must act quickly. If they empty the vaults, Gringotts ceases to exist. I say we lower our storage fees. Cavendish charges very little; we must undercut them. Wizards appreciate value."
"And then what?" a skeptical goblin asked. "Our operational funds will dry up. We can survive a month, perhaps, but not indefinitely."
"Then we resort to alternative means," the first goblin said, a malicious gleam in his eyes. "We access the vaults no one has opened in decades—those with lost keys, the abandoned ones. We open them and utilize the contents."
The room fell silent.
"If we do that," one goblin whispered, "our reputation is destroyed. We promised that only the key and our magic can open a vault. If humans learn we can bypass the security..."
"We do it discreetly," the first goblin insisted. "No one needs to know. As long as we aren't discovered, the agreement isn't technically violated."
"Damn it," a goblin hissed, grinding his teeth. "Let's proceed. If not for that cursed new contract, I'd have dealt with the Cavendish family already. If we remain undetected, we haven't broken our word."