Two days before term ended, the owls arrived during breakfast as they always did, a dozen birds dropping newspapers and letters across the Great Hall with the careless precision of creatures that had been doing this for centuries. Rowan caught his copy of the Daily Prophet before it landed in his porridge and unfolded it one-handed, expecting the usual gossip and Ministry notices.
The headline stopped him.
GRINGOTTS PURGE: GOBLIN BANK DISMISSES ALL WIZARD EMPLOYEES IN UNPRECEDENTED MOVE
By Barnabas Flint, Editor
In a decision that has sent shockwaves through magical Britain, Gringotts Wizarding Bank has terminated the employment of every witch and wizard in its service. The move, announced without warning late Tuesday evening, affects an estimated forty-three individuals across departments including curse-breaking, client relations, and vault security.
Bank officials offered no public explanation for the mass dismissal, and it remains unclear whether the secretive Goblin Clan Council sanctioned the decision or whether it originated from elements within Gringotts' own leadership. The Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has demanded a formal accounting, which the bank has thus far declined to provide.
"They can't just do that," Hector said from across the table, reading over his own copy. "Can they? Sack everyone at once?"
"It's their bank," Lawrence said. "The Ministry has oversight agreements but no actual authority over staffing."
Iris leaned closer to read Rowan's copy, and her finger landed on the paragraph about Ranrok. "He calls them creatures twice in his own prose, uses inflammatory rhetoric in the same sentence, and buries it all under the pretence of straight reporting. Every word in this article is doing work."
Among those dismissed is Grilco Wuthering, who has served as Gringotts' Head Curse-Breaker for over two decades. In a statement to the Prophet, Wuthering expressed his dismay at the abruptness of his dismissal.
"I gave twenty-three years to that institution," Wuthering told this reporter. "Trained dozens of curse-breakers, led expeditions across four continents. I was escorted from the building by goblin security with an hour's notice and my personal effects in a box."
Readers may recall that Wuthering was the supervisor of curse-breakers Photine and Thana, who vanished several years ago while investigating an undisclosed location near the Poidsear Coast. Neither witch was ever found, and the investigation into their disappearances was quietly shelved by Gringotts officials.
The dismissals come amid growing unease about the influence of Ranrok, a goblin agitator who has spent the past several years rallying support among younger members of the goblin population with inflammatory rhetoric about wizard oppression and goblin sovereignty. Though Gringotts has publicly distanced itself from Ranrok's movement, the timing of the purge has led many in the Ministry to question whether the creatures running Britain's only wizarding bank have begun to align with his agenda.
For more on the historical context of goblin-wizard relations, see Elspeth Crowe's analysis on page fourteen.
Rowan turned to page fourteen.
GOBLIN GRIEVANCES: A HISTORY OF CONFLICT
By Elspeth Crowe, Historical Correspondent
The relationship between wizardkind and the goblin population of Britain has never been a simple one, and yesterday's dismissals at Gringotts have once again brought centuries-old tensions into sharp relief. To understand the present, one must revisit the past.
The first major rupture came in 1612, when a goblin uprising erupted in the village of Hogsmeade. The rebellion was bloody and vicious by all accounts, and one of the village's inns served as the headquarters for the wizard forces that ultimately suppressed it. The causes remain debated among historians, though most point to the lack of goblin representation on the Wizengamot as the primary grievance. The rebellion failed, but the violence it produced left deep scars on both sides.
In 1631, the Wizards' Council responded with Clause Three of the Code of Wand Use, which declared that no non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand. The legislation applied broadly to all non-human magical beings, including giants, house-elves, and goblins alike. The measure was widely supported at the time and remains in force today, a necessary safeguard against the recurrence of armed magical conflict.
The matter did not rest. In 1752, a second major rebellion erupted, this one far more destabilizing. Minister for Magic Albert Boot resigned after failing to contain the uprising. His replacement, Basil Flack, lasted a mere two months before the situation worsened dramatically: the goblins secured an alliance with Britain's werewolf population, combining grievances into a unified front that the Ministry could not manage through negotiation. It fell to Hesphaestus Gore, a seasoned Auror elected Minister in the crisis, to restore order. His methods were decisive. Under Gore's leadership, the rebellion was suppressed and the 1752 Goblin Accords were established, creating the framework of goblin-wizard relations that persists to this day.
The rebel leader Vargot continued to resist for a full decade after the Accords were signed, until his death in battle in 1762. His associate Urg the Unclean remains a controversial figure, notorious enough among goblins to have earned a Chocolate Frog Card, though the honour sits uneasily with many in the wizarding community.
It should be noted that goblins have hardly been left without recourse. They possess their own formidable magic, independent of wandwork, and have built Gringotts into the most secure financial institution in the wizarding world. Goblin metalwork is prized across Europe. Their clans operate with a degree of autonomy that no other non-human magical population enjoys. The argument that goblins have been stripped of all agency does not survive scrutiny, whatever certain agitators may claim.
The Accords of 1752 have held for over a century. Whether yesterday's events at Gringotts represent a new challenge to that stability, or merely an internal administrative matter as the bank insists, remains to be seen. What is certain is that any return to the violence of centuries past would serve no one's interests, least of all the goblins'.
Lawrence set his own copy down. "Binns spent a whole month on the 1752 rebellion. He went through every Minister who resigned, how the goblin-werewolf alliance nearly brought down the government, all of it. Dull as dust, but he at least told you what happened on both sides and let you draw your own conclusions."
"Crowe didn't," Iris said. She folded her copy shut. "She spent six paragraphs on the history and then used the last one to argue goblins should be grateful for what they have."
Rowan set his Prophet aside. The implications were larger than a breakfast conversation could hold, but before he could say more, a first-year appeared at his elbow with a note. Weasley wanted to see him in her office.
He excused himself from the table, left the Great Hall, and climbed the familiar route to Weasley's office on the third floor. His mind was still half on Gringotts and what it meant for his own vault and business plans.
The office looked the same as always. Neat shelves, a collection of Transfiguration texts arranged by subject, a teapot that refilled itself when the level dropped below half. Weasley sat behind her desk with a stack of parchment and the particular strain of someone who'd agreed to something she wasn't entirely comfortable with and was now living with the consequences.
"Sit down, Mr. Ashcroft."
He sat.