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— Gringotts.
Upon discovering that an intruder had infiltrated the underground vault area, the manager in charge of Gringotts issued immediate orders: “Lock down Gringotts!
Activate all defensive wards!
Let no one leave!” At his command, Gringotts’ protective enchantments flared to life, and the heavy bronze doors began to grind slowly shut.
Unfortunately, Ian cared nothing for the goblins’ security protocols.
His blasting curse blew a massive hole right through the heavy entrance.
Immediately after, the thief broke past the dragon’s fiery barrier and shot up from the depths of the underground caverns.
The moment the intruder surfaced, utter chaos erupted across the marble hall.
Screams of terrified witches and wizards, the hysterical crying of children, and the angry shouts of goblin guards echoed through the cavernous space.
Gringotts had dissolved into absolute pandemonium.
The intruder seemed to revel in the hysteria.
He hovered midair, dark, billowing smoke veiling his face, leaving only a pair of glowing crimson eyes exposed to the room.
Ian had no intention of sticking around to help Gringotts handle their crisis.
His sole priority was getting Harry out of this mess as quickly as possible.
Yet escaping proved far from simple.
Desperate to make a swift exit, the dark shadow chose the exact same escape route Ian had targeted.
Moving with terrifying speed, the intruder reached the area just behind Ian and Harry in the blink of an eye.
Sensing the sudden approach behind him, Ian whipped around.
“Stupefy!” A jet of red light shot from his wand, aimed squarely at the shadowy figure.
The intruder displayed uncanny agility.
Even at breakneck speed, he effortlessly veered past Ian’s Stunner and launched a counterattack—a jet of blinding green light shot straight toward Harry.
“Avada Kedavra!” Dammit—the Killing Curse!
Watching the green light streak toward them, Ian felt his heart drop into his stomach.
He hadn’t expected the intruder to be so ruthless, opening combat with an Unforgivable Curse—and the deadly Killing Curse at that.
His reaction was instantaneous.
A strange yet enormous shield materialized out of thin air, crashing onto the stone floor with a heavy THUD and locking into place, shielding both him and Harry completely behind its solid surface.
Seeing Ian attempt to block the Killing Curse with a mere shield, the dark shadow let out a chilling, rasping sneer, clearly mocking Ian’s perceived arrogance and folly.
Without throwing another glance their way, the figure dissolved back into a cloud of dark mist before the goblin guards could close in, shooting out through the gap in the bronze doors and disappearing into the sky.
What the intruder failed to realize, however, was that the shield didn’t just block the Killing Curse—it reflected it.
The lethal curse ricocheted back along the exact trajectory it had arrived.
A goblin standing nearby failed to dodge in time.
The green light struck it squarely in the chest.
Its body stiffened, the light instantly fading from its eyes, before it crashed heavily to the cold floor, dead.
It was a pity the intruder had already fled.
Had he witnessed the reflection, it might have triggered some rather unpleasant memories.
The goblin’s sudden death brought a momentary, dead silence over the grand hall—only for an even greater wave of panic to erupt a split second later.
Ignoring the goblins’ frantic attempts to maintain order, terrified patrons scrambled for the exit, screaming as they fled.
Most were accompanied by children, many of whom were likely first-years entering the magical world for the very first time, just like Harry.
Ian, however, had no time to spare for the surrounding chaos.
He held Harry tightly, calling his name repeatedly in a voice laced with urgency.
Just moments ago, Ian had noticed something horribly wrong with Harry.
Though the shield had absorbed the brunt of the Killing Curse, the magical shockwave seemed to have triggered a violent reaction in the lightning-bolt scar on Harry’s forehead.
The boy had let out a single agonized shriek before passing out cold.
Even now, Harry’s face was deathly pale.
His hand clutched tightly at his forehead, his small frame trembling faintly.
“Harry!” Ian called anxiously, quickly running his hands over the boy to inspect his condition.
No matter how thoroughly Ian checked, he couldn’t find a single trace of physical injury.
It was as though the faintness were a complete fluke.
Yet Ian knew the truth: a piece of Voldemort’s soul was anchored right inside Harry.
Only the presence of that Horcrux could explain such a violent reaction to the Killing Curse.
Naturally, that made the shadowy intruder’s identity painfully obvious.
It had been a long time, and Ian had forgotten quite a few details from the original story, but anything pertaining to Voldemort remained crystal clear in his memory.
The reason Voldemort was so agonizingly difficult to kill was that he had begun creating Horcruxes back in his school days—and he hadn’t stopped at just one.
The diary, the diadem, the locket, the cup, Gaunt’s ring, Nagini…
and Harry himself.
To prepare for his eventual conflict with Voldemort, Ian had picked his brain to recall every shred of lore he could summon.
In truth, his main motivation for taking Harry from Petunia’s house was to study the Horcrux firsthand.
Only by uncovering its inner mechanics could he figure out how to eradicate Voldemort once and for all.
Ian had never forgotten that the mastermind behind the attack eleven years ago was none other than Voldemort.
Since the other Horcruxes were currently out of reach, Harry was his only viable starting point.
Back at Hogwarts, Ian had practically turned the library upside down searching for information on Horcruxes, but he hadn’t found a single mention.
No doubt all relevant texts had been hidden away by a certain old headmaster with a penchant for lemon drops.
Still, Ian couldn’t help marveling at the sheer gravity of fate.
Harry had barely set foot in the wizarding world, and he had already crossed paths with Voldemort robbing Gringotts.
But what could possibly be inside Gringotts that was worth Voldemort personally breaking in to steal?
Could it be Hufflepuff’s Cup?
That was the only item that came to mind, yet something about the idea felt off to Ian.
Before he could dwell on it any longer, Harry finally stirred, rousing from his unconscious state and cutting short Ian’s train of thought.
“Harry!
How are you feeling?” Ian asked hurriedly the moment he saw the boy open his eyes.
Harry blinked heavily, trying to speak, but a searing, agonizing burn suddenly erupted from the lightning scar on his forehead, drawing a sharp cry of pain from his lips.
He instinctively reached up to touch the scar, but Ian gently caught his wrist, holding it back.
“Don’t touch it.
Give it a moment to cool down,” Ian murmured softly.
With a quick movement, an exquisite necklace appeared in his hand.
He fastened the necklace around Harry’s neck.
A refreshing, cool sensation washed over the boy instantly, soothing the burning agony until his breathing gradually steadied.
Seeing Harry drift off into a peaceful sleep, Ian let out a long sigh of relief.
He gathered the boy into his arms, turning around to leave.
“Halt!
Stay right where you are!” A flurry of urgent footsteps echoed across the marble floor.
Ian turned to see a pompously dressed goblin marching toward him, flanked by several Ministry Aurors.
The shout had come from the goblin itself.
The moment the group reached Ian, the goblin stepped forward impatiently, cutting in before anyone else could speak.
“Sir!
You are not permitted to leave!
You are suspected of murdering a Gringotts employee, and we have every right to place you under arrest!” Despite the harsh words, Ian acutely noted the goblin’s eyes lingering repeatedly on the massive shield in his grip and the shimmering necklace around Harry’s neck.
The unmistakable gleam of avarice in those eyes was a look Ian recognized all too well.
Ignoring the goblin’s noisy bluster, Ian swept a calm gaze over the squad of Aurors, letting his eyes settle on their leader.
Though Ian looked quite young, Blair—the head of the Auror squad—felt a heavy, inexplicable pressure beneath his calm gaze.
Moreover, she felt an odd sense of familiarity looking at him.
Considering there was only one wizarding school in all of Britain, this handsome young man was very likely a younger alumnus from Hogwarts.
Blair’s expression softened considerably.
Stepping forward, her eyes traveled over Ian and the sleeping boy in his arms before snapping back to the aggressive goblin manager.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Gringotts possesses no authority to arrest a wizard, Mr.
Boro!” After warning the goblin, Blair turned back to Ian, her tone cool, professional, and serious: “Sir, I am Auror Blair from the Ministry of Magic.
Could you tell me what happened here?” Ian remained silent for a beat, his eyes flicking between Blair and the tense Aurors standing behind her.
“An intruder disguised in a shroud of dark mist broke into the underground vault area,” Ian said calmly, his voice ringing clearly through the hall.
“He attempted to strike this child with the Killing Curse.” He gestured slightly toward the sleeping Harry in his arms.
“My shield reflected the curse, which inadvertently hit that goblin.
It is as simple as that.” The goblin manager screeched in instant rebuttal, “Absurd!
No magical artifact in existence can reflect the Killing Curse!” It was common knowledge that the Killing Curse was the deadliest of the three Unforgivable Curses.
To this day, no one had ever survived a direct hit short of dodging it completely—let alone reflected it with an enchanted item.
Well…
except for the boy in his arms, of course.
Hearing Ian’s explanation, Blair and her fellow Aurors’ initial instinct was skepticism.
Yet their eyes involuntarily darted toward the shield.
It was a ridiculously massive tower shield, large enough to cover an adult entirely, its surface polished to such an extraordinary sheen that it mirrored the surrounding hall like glass.
Facing their doubts, Ian didn’t bother offering further explanations.
Instead, he turned his gaze to the goblin manager, his tone carrying a sinister hint of provocation: “Is that so?
Why don’t you cast a Killing Curse at me right now and see whether it reflects or not?
Try it, and you’ll have your answer.” Ian’s voice was soft, but the words sent an icy chill straight down Boro’s spine.
Try it?
How?
By putting my own life on the line?!
As a high-ranking Gringotts manager, Boro possessed not only top-tier financial expertise, but also formidable skill in goblin metalworking and enchantment.
It was precisely because of this expertise that he recognized the extraordinary nature of the shield at a glance.
He had hoped to frame Ian for the guard’s death to seize the artifact for Gringotts, but he hadn’t anticipated this young wizard being so formidable and unyielding.
The goblin manager was already beginning to regret his greed.
Framing a wizard was a serious offense—after all, humans stood at the very top of the hierarchy in this world.
Unfortunately for Boro, his regrets had only just begun.
A second later, Ian leveled a formal accusation against Gringotts—one with far dire consequences.
“Miss Blair, I wish to officially report Gringotts for the unlawful embezzlement and seizure of wizarding property!” Ian proceeded to recount, in precise detail, how the goblins had attempted to deny him access to his own vault and withhold his assets.
Listening to Ian’s accusation, Blair’s expression turned somewhat awkward.
Her team belonged to the Auror Office; financial crimes and banking disputes fell entirely outside their jurisdiction.
The goblin manager, however, couldn’t care less about jurisdictional boundaries.
It wanted nothing more than to roll its eyes back and faint on the spot, but it didn’t dare.
If the wider wizarding community learned that Gringotts was illegally seizing wizarding gold, the bank’s reputation would be utterly destroyed—and with it, its reason to exist.
Boro rushed forward frantically, pulling Ian a few paces to the side.
“Sir!
This was an unfortunate misunderstanding on our part!” the goblin manager squeaked, still clinging to a sliver of hope.
“Look, you haven’t suffered any actual loss.
How about we both take a step back?” Ian had zero intention of humoring the greedy creature.
He delivered his price plainly: “Twenty thousand Galleons.” “Twenty thousand?!
Impossible!” Boro rejected instantly.
Ian’s original balance in the vault hadn’t even exceeded a thousand Galleons.
Demanding a twenty-fold increase was faster than robbing a bank!
Actually, Ian was robbing the bank.
Yet as Boro met Ian’s cold, silent stare—a look that made it clear he wasn’t bargaining—the goblin realized he had no choice but to yield.
After a tense round of fierce haggling over the specifics, the two finally reached an agreement.
Gringotts would pay Ian twenty-five thousand gold Galleons in compensation.
In exchange, Ian would drop all charges regarding the unauthorized transfer of assets from Vault 666 and never bring the matter up again.
As for the extra five thousand Galleons?
That was the penalty for their greed in eyeing Ian’s shield.