Harry won the match without a doubt. The card, 'Unleash—The Sealed Dark Wizard, Tom,' had an effect that granted an instant victory. The moment it was summoned, even the Ultimate Dragon Knight and the Five-Headed Dragon vanished in a flash.
Harry had once again won the Wizarding Cards championship. Draco took second place, and Neville came in third, with the top three spots all claimed by Hogwarts students.
After the match ended, a reporter from the Daily Prophet who called herself Rita Skeeter seemed to pop out of nowhere. She started interviewing the trio and scribbling furiously with her Quick-Quotes Quill, though it was a mystery what she was actually writing down. She didn't let them go until the sun was almost setting.
Though exhausted, Harry and his friends were thrilled with their winnings. Even though they weren't in need of money, the feeling of earning it with their own skills was incredibly satisfying.
As for Ron, he'd received a consolation prize: a Gilderoy Lockhart action figure. He planned to take it home for his sister or for Mrs. Weasley, remembering they were both big fans of Lockhart's books.
"Dark Wizard Tom is a seriously powerful card. I've got to get a deck with him when I get home."
Harry's unbeatable move with Dark Wizard Tom had left a deep impression on the audience. Many wizards said they would be assembling a deck based on that card. Even if you couldn't lift the seal, the Tom Riddle card itself was already very strong, as it could be combined with any Dark Arts spell. The key was that there were more of these cards in circulation than Dumbledore cards, making Tom a perfect substitute.
"It's too powerful! You summon it and you win instantly. It's practically unbeatable."
"Pssst, I'll tell you a secret. I heard from a friend at the Witches & Poisons Publishing House that the next legendary edition of Dumbledore will be Dark Wizard Tom's nemesis."
"See? I told you there are no truly unbeatable cards in Wizarding Cards."
"But you just said it was practically unbeatable."
"In theory, if you use them well, you can even win with Fudge and Lockhart."
"Oh, please. You'd have better luck with a Goblin deck. At least then there's a chance of winning."
These kinds of conversations spread among wizards far and wide. Those who had missed the tournament expressed regret and vowed to attend the next one.
Dudley was very pleased with the results. Dark Wizard Tom was famous now—everyone knew how powerful he was.
Next, it would be Dumbledore's turn to defeat him.
Then, after that, anyone could defeat Tom.
---
Gringotts Bank
This was the goblins' workplace, the only bank in the wizarding world. You could deposit money, rent vaults, and it was supposedly the safest place in the world—or so the goblins claimed.
As night fell, the goblins, having finished their day's work, began to leave their counters and head for home. Even goblins don't live at Gringotts. They love money, but they love their own money more.
Goldbrick was usually the last goblin to leave Gringotts. It wasn't because he was a workaholic; it was because after he completed his tasks for the day, he would meticulously check every inch of the bank before he left.
In simpler terms, he was checking to see if any customers had dropped any money on the floor. You'd be surprised, but sometimes he'd actually find a Knut or two.
"Sniff... I smell money."
After fumbling around a flowerpot, Goldbrick pulled out a silver Sickle and, without a moment's hesitation, stuffed it into his pocket.
"My luck is in."
His mood greatly improved, Goldbrick swaggered toward the main doors, his hand in his pocket, feeling the Sickle. Just as he was about to leave, he heard a faint clinking sound of metal falling to the ground.
He stopped instantly and looked around.
It was silent. He couldn't see anything.
Maybe I misheard, he thought, and prepared to continue on his way. But the moment his left foot took a step, the sound of falling metal rang out again.
This time, he was sure he hadn't misheard. He could even hear it rolling.
His long, pointed ears shot up. He immediately turned back, sniffing the air with his unusually large, sewer-like nose as he searched. As he passed one of the counters, he spotted something shiny on the floor in the distance.
Suppressing his excitement, Goldbrick hurried over.
It was a gleaming cup.
The moment he saw it, Goldbrick's heart began to pound, and his breathing became heavy. He practically threw himself on top of the cup, covering it with his body. He glanced nervously left and right, like a thief, scanning his surroundings. But there was no one else in the silent hall.
Only then did Goldbrick cautiously pull the cup out from under his clothes and examine it carefully.
"It's gold?"
By nature, he was sensitive to the feel of money. He knew the cup in his hands was real gold—and not just any gold. It was the same kind of magically enhanced gold used to make Galleons.
His marble-sized eyes filled with greed.
"If it's not in a wizard's vault, it must be unwanted."
"What Goldbrick finds is Goldbrick's!"
Goldbrick clutched the golden cup tightly, muttering to himself. He was so tense that he didn't even notice the small cut that had appeared on his hand. A single drop of blood trickled down his palm and onto the cup.
In the blink of an eye, it vanished.
The solid gold cup reflected a strange light in the dim surroundings. Goldbrick took this to be the glow of money.
But unnoticed by him, on the side of the gleaming cup, a twisted face appeared.
The face had no nose.
Just as quickly, the face was gone, as if it had only been a trick of the light.
Goldbrick put the cup into his clothes as if it were a priceless treasure, covering it with his oversized jacket. Whether by coincidence or not, the cup lay exactly over his heart.
Three days later, the goblin Goldbrick went missing from Gringotts. He had not been seen since the night he found the golden cup. No one knew where he had gone or if he was alive.
The Aurors conducted a routine check, but finding nothing, they quickly left. They didn't care about Goldbrick's fate; he was only a goblin, not a wizard, so their visit was already more than he could expect. The Gringotts manager cared even less. He was already planning to pocket Goldbrick's wages for the month and hoped the goblin would never show up again.
Short-handed? Not a chance.
There were plenty of goblins who would jump at the chance for a good job like Gringotts, where they could work with money. If Goldbrick was gone, there was always another goblin ready to take his place.
As for the other goblins, they didn't care either. Goblins care about nothing but money. They would betray their own family for it, let alone a colleague.
Friendship? Non-existent.
As long as you could pay the price, a goblin would be your most loyal friend.