A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 582 It’s time to go back
Charles pushed open the heavy wooden door of the cabin deep in the Luxembourg forest, and was greeted only by a profound silence, with only the sound of Ruby eating chocolate beans.

The last rays of the setting sun pierced through the dusty windowpanes, casting long, slanted shadows on the old oak floors inside, where dust motes danced.

The light illuminated the heavy wooden table, where there were no sweets or snacks, only a letter stamped with the Malfoy family's wax seal lying quietly.

Gabrielle was fully focused on preparing for Beauxbatons' demanding final exams and wouldn't be coming back for a long time. The room suddenly felt empty and desolate, devoid of the girl's energetic chatter and light footsteps.

Charles walked to the table, sat down in the chair by the window, deftly tore open the seal, pulled out the fine parchment letter inside, and began to read it line by line with focused attention.

The letter was from Draco Malfoy, providing a detailed update on the negotiations with Gringotts regarding the enormous compensation.

The letter stated that after two days of intense, almost argumentative back-and-forth, Gringotts representative Rapunzel finally reduced the compensation amount by 7000 Galleons.

This sum of 7000 Galleons is probably enough for the Weasleys to enjoy ten luxury trips to Egypt. However, compared to the huge claim of 998 million Galleons, this concession is like a drop in the ocean, so insignificant that Slughorn, who was involved in the negotiations, felt embarrassed in the internal meeting and even felt a little sympathy for the goblins.

The work meeting tonight was being held in a small private room at the Hog's Head Bar. Slughorn nervously rubbed the rim of his glass, his chubby face full of worry. He said to Malfoy with concern, "Draco, have we been pushing the goblins too hard, too relentlessly?"

“I worry that this kind of high pressure will drive them to the brink and force them to do extreme things without regard for the consequences.”

His voice carried the caution characteristic of the elderly and a fear of potential violent backlash, revealing some of his character flaws.

But his words were immediately opposed by Barty Crouch, who was sitting upright next to him.

Crouch sat ramrod straight, his expression stern and rigid, and said in a deep voice, "No, Mr. Slughorn, quite the opposite, we must maintain, and even increase, the pressure!"

His sharp gaze swept over the pure-blood family representatives present, and he continued, "Have you noticed that the fairies' attitude this time is completely different from how they handle major disputes in the past?"

"Their resistance was unusually weak, lacking that deep-seated, almost stubborn insistence on money."

Crouch, with his keen political sense, caught this anomaly, which was not in line with the goblin's usual tough style.

Percy Weasley immediately straightened his back and nodded in agreement.

He quickly took out his notebook, turned to the page recording the previous negotiations on the Quidditch World Cup tent insurance compensation, and said with a hint of barely perceptible excitement in his voice, "Mr. Crouch is right! Compared to that arduous negotiation, the goblins are completely different this time."

“They offered almost no real support, and even their symbolic toughness seemed perfunctory. They appeared to be deliberately stalling.”

Crouch and Percy had personally experienced the goblins' meticulousness, and combined with Charles's previous assessment of the goblins' procrastination, the pull ring's passive response made them sense something unusual—the goblins seemed to be waiting for a crucial moment.

Although Slughorn's unease still lingered, he ultimately did not insist on pursuing the idea of ​​testing the goblins, as it aligned with the Ministry of Magic's objectives and the high compensation was in the best interests of Charles and the others.

He began to devise new strategies for his new goal, actively thinking about how to extract more benefits. He said, "Since we've decided to continue putting pressure on them, we might as well set a clear deadline for the fairies to create a sense of urgency, which might force them to submit more quickly."

Mr. Greengrass nodded in agreement, but did not respond directly. Instead, he turned his questioning gaze to Malfoy, who was in the main seat: "This proposal is pragmatic, Malfoy. You can bring it up in tomorrow's negotiations."

His implication was quite clear: using Malfoy's status as the son of a Death Eater and the lingering influence of Voldemort's attack on Gringotts Vault, he intended to exert a deeper psychological deterrent on the goblins.

The topic of Voldemort was too sensitive, so the group simply exchanged a brief, knowing glance.

Malfoy nodded, realizing he had no other choice but to go along with the suggestion.

Deep inside Gringotts, in Cloland's office, Rapunzel stood with his hands at his sides in front of the massive oak desk, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat.

Pulling the ring, my heart pounded like drumsticks in my chest. I held my breath, cautiously awaiting the storm.

He had just finished reporting today's results in a hoarse voice—after arduous efforts, he had successfully reduced the compensation amount by 7000 Gallons.

The number changed from 998 million Galleons to 997.3 million. This tiny change seemed almost meaningless to Rapunzel. The goblin's sensitivity to money was ingrained in his bones, and he knew that this concession was probably not even a symbolic appeasement in the wizard's eyes, just a way to appease a beggar.

With his head down, Rahuan awaited Kloran's furious wrath, his mind uncontrollably conjuring up images of himself being kicked out of his home, wandering the streets of Fandao Alley, or scavenging for food in garbage dumps.

However, the expected rage did not materialize.

Kloran sank deep back into the wide chair, his fingers slowly tapping on the smooth, cold tabletop, producing a dull "tap, tap" sound.

His deep-set eyes seemed to pierce through the trembling pull ring, focusing on the future.

The conflict between the Ministry of Magic and Voldemort is imminent. It is unknown how long Dumbledore can hold out. The change of power will inevitably bring chaos, and chaos needs time—which is exactly what Gringotts and the goblins lack at this moment.

As long as we can buy enough time to weather the turbulent period, expand our army with the borrowed money, and seize the opportunity, then the compensation we pay now is nothing more than a small pawn that can be sacrificed in the future game, which can be taken back as long as we win.

Time passed slowly in a silence that nearly suffocated the pull tab before Cloland finally turned his gaze back to the pull tab, which was almost curled up into a ball.

His voice betrayed no emotion, only a deep weariness and resignation. He said in a low voice, "At least let that number in the tens of thousands move."

"Gringotts still needs to maintain what little face it has left."

He paused, looked at the zipper's eyes that lit up with the will to survive, and said, "Don't worry, Gringotts won't fire you."

“You’ve done a barely acceptable job, but there will definitely be discontent with you in Gringotts. You need to leave Britain and go to another country to avoid trouble.”

The pull ring breathed a sigh of relief; his biggest fear was being scapegoated and kicked out of Gringotts.

At that time, neither the fairy society nor the wizard society would accept him, so he could only become a homeless vagrant, and eventually he was reduced to a thief...

Now things are fine. At worst, I can go to Sudan and become a pyramid administrator. Although the environment in the desert is not good, it's a leisurely job.

Two days later, at a lakeside hotel in Geneva, Charles gave a brief explanation of the upcoming USB interface standard to a group of young engineers, senior lawyers, and professional managers in a conference room. These talents, recruited with the help of a Swiss foundation, were unknowingly being tested with truth serum.

It wasn't difficult for him to obtain the relevant information. How to create a USB drive and build a professional barrier was not a problem in the eyes of professionals. The most difficult thing was to come up with a good name for the new company. In the end, he still had to figure out Ruby.

The meeting room was spacious and bright, with views of Lake Geneva outside the windows, and the whiteboard was covered with sketches.

Suddenly, the communications notebook in Charles's inside suit pocket vibrated slightly.

He spoke almost without pause, his face focused, naturally allowing the engineers a brief exchange before calmly walking to the floor-to-ceiling window, seemingly captivated by the scenery. Everyone knew that this brilliant boss was deep in thought again.

Charles stood by the window, quickly pulled out his communications notebook, which displayed a brief message from Malfoy:
"The fairy agrees to a compensation amount of 996 million Galleons!"

Charles glanced at the information, a cold smile curving his lips.

Pull-tab, or rather, the Kloran behind him, seems to have finally succumbed to the pressure and made substantial concessions.

The number in the tens of thousands has changed, but it's much less than Charles expected. The fairies probably aren't really making a concession; they have other plans.

Charles put away his address book and looked out the window at the calm, shimmering surface of Lake Geneva, dotted with white sails.

As he replied to the message, he thought to himself that he should go back to Hogwarts. If he missed the final exams, he would have to take classes with Ginny next year.

(End of this chapter)