Chapter 125: Vaughn’s Unbridled Behavior
According to Vaughn’s statement at the time, they could use these Muggle currencies to buy gold from Muggles and then sell the gold to the goblins at Gringotts.
However, after living in Muggle society for a while, and persistently reading the newspaper, Lupin felt this method wasn’t very reliable.
“You’re still trying to buy gold from Muggles? Vaughn, it’s useless. The loan you and Dumbledore provided is only 500,000 pounds. How much gold can that buy? What will you do when the money runs out?”
WAC already owes over 30,000 Gold Galleons, and Lupin didn’t want to owe more. He feared he wouldn’t be able to repay it later and would be forced to sell out the werewolves’ interests.
The reason Lupin was still staying at WAC was that he considered himself a nail, preventing the organization from becoming a tool for someone’s private feuds one day.
Vaughn remained noncommittal about his subtle vigilance and smiled, “Remus, it seems you haven’t learned much useful in Muggle society.”
“What do you mean?”
Vaughn didn’t answer, simply patted Lupin’s shoulder, signaling him to get up, “Come on, Moony, let’s go somewhere.”
“Don’t call me Moony…” Lupin complained indignantly, “I haven’t used that nickname in a long time.”
“Alright, Moony.”
Lupin: “…Are you even listening to me?”
Complaining, he still stood up, watching Vaughn wave his wand to light the fireplace, and asked as if making small talk, “Speaking of which, why do you know my old nickname? Very few people knew it, only…”
“Only Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?”
Lupin was speechless.
His expression became momentarily dazed.
These three nicknames were things of the distant past in his memory, so far back that his recollections were beginning to yellow, like static on a Muggle television.
The laughter and joy of the past echoed hollowly in his mind, as if from another world.
Lupin steadied himself and tentatively asked, “It seems you know quite a bit. Did you find the prank items we made at Hogwarts?”
In Lupin’s memory, near their graduation, they had hidden a prank item at Hogwarts. They hoped someone would inherit their prank business, so they had also hidden their nicknames within the item.
That item had very powerful functions, and he needed to confirm if Vaughn had obtained it.
Of course, there was a new problem here too – they had only left the nicknames back then, without specific identity information corresponding to the nicknames.
He really wanted to know where Vaughn had learned all this.
Could it be Snape?
Lupin thought this seemed to be the only explanation. As the “arch-nemesis” of the quartet, Snape knew them best and was the closest person to Vaughn.
He wondered if Snape also possessed that item.
Vaughn smiled without speaking, “If you want to know the answer, why don’t you go back to Hogwarts and take a look?”
Lupin stopped talking.
He didn’t dare return to Hogwarts. There was someone there who filled him with guilt, someone he dared not contact. He wasn’t mentally prepared to meet “him” yet.
Seeing Vaughn preparing the Floo Powder, he stiffly changed the subject, “Where are you taking me?”
Vaughn grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and threw it into the fireplace. Green smoke and light rose slowly:
“Diagon Alley!”
…
The last time he came to Diagon Alley was six months ago, during the werewolf parade.
Compared to the ever-changing Muggle society, time in the Wizarding World seemed to be frozen. Months or even years would pass without a single change.
The streets rose and fell, the shops crooked.
Just as it had been many years ago when Lupin first came here, shrinking behind Professor McGonagall, this was what he saw.
Emerging from the public fireplace, Lupin scanned the shops on both sides and the sparse wizards passing by.
Diagon Alley was busiest only before the start of school each year; it was much quieter normally. After all, the Wizarding World had only tens of thousands of people, spread across the entire British Isles. Most of the time, adult wizards were unwilling to travel “long distances” for shopping.
Feeling the quiet atmosphere on the street, Lupin sighed, “Compared to Muggles, the Wizarding World feels very desolate…”
He hadn’t felt this way before. Although he was also far from the Wizarding World back then, he had always lived in seclusion.
It was only in the last six months, living in the Muggle community, that he had profoundly experienced the stark contrast between the two.
“Because of a lack of change.”
Vaughn, walking beside him, seemed indifferent to his surroundings, “The Wizarding World in England is like stagnant water, with stagnant development and no flow. Everyone is like bacteria parasitic in stagnant water, so how can you expect them to be active?”
Lupin glanced at Vaughn, sensing his dissatisfaction with the state of the Wizarding World.
This made Lupin a little worried, yet he didn’t know what to say.
Silently, he followed Vaughn to the Leaky Cauldron. In the low, dim pub, there were only a few patrons scattered about. The boss, Tom, stood behind the counter, an old rag flying around him, cleaning glasses that seemed eternally unwashed.
Seeing Vaughn enter, Tom called out in surprise, “Ah, Mr. Weasley, welcome.”
“Good evening, Tom. Have my guests arrived?”
“They have, in the private room I reserved for you, enjoying the Leaky Cauldron’s delicious food… Mr. Weasley, what would you like?”
Tom led the way enthusiastically, asking.
Vaughn’s gaze swept over the dirt-stained floor and the well-worn bar counter, his expression unchanged, “I don’t need anything. You can ask Mr. Lupin.”
Lupin didn’t mind. When he was down and out, he had even rummaged through trash cans, “A glass of Firewhisky, please.”
“No problem… You’re Remus Lupin, right? Lad, I still remember you!”
Lupin hadn’t heard anyone call him “lad” in a long time, so he could only force a smile.
They went up to the second floor, and Tom led them to a private room before bowing and retreating, “Distinguished guests, please wait a moment, the drinks will be here shortly.”
Watching Tom leave, Lupin pulled at the corner of his mouth, “In my memory, he wasn’t this obsequious.”
“This is the charm of Gold Galleons, dear Remus. If you booked a private room year-round, he would be this enthusiastic with you too.”
“…You booked a private room?”
“Yes, to house your future team!”
As he spoke, before Lupin could fully comprehend, Vaughn had already pushed the door open.
Inside the room, which was expanded by an Undetectable Extension Charm, looking quite spacious and luxurious, out of place with the grimy exterior of the pub, a dozen or so people were standing or sitting.
Lupin quickly scanned them.
Among the dozen or so people in the room, he only recognized three. They were all werewolves: Barnaby, the London regional head; James Brown, a werewolf wizard from WAC; and William White, the Liverpool regional head.
These three could be considered veterans of WAC, the people closest to Vaughn among the entire werewolf community.
Especially Barnaby.
Hearing the door open, Barnaby looked up in surprise and quickly walked over, falling to his knees and kissing Vaughn’s robe:
“Greetings, sir!”
Lupin disliked Barnaby, not because he was too fawning towards Vaughn – in fact, many in the werewolf community liked to kiss Vaughn’s robe.
Vaughn had saved the werewolves, and that was how they expressed their affection and respect. Lupin had no standing to comment on their actions.
He disliked Barnaby because this young werewolf was very radical and blind.
He had fanatical admiration for Vaughn; every word Vaughn said was taken as gospel. To Lupin’s knowledge, Barnaby had even organized people in the Greater London area to recite and study Vaughn’s letters daily…
It was outrageous!
Correspondingly, Barnaby also disliked Lupin. He always felt Lupin wasn’t respectful enough towards Vaughn.
After kissing the robe and having his hair affectionately ruffled by Vaughn, Barnaby, who was then helped up, subtly glared at Lupin.
Lupin didn’t want to argue with this immature teenager. He observed the other 11 unfamiliar people.
Before the full moon, when werewolves transformed, they couldn’t sense each other’s identities. But Lupin was a wizard, and he could see auras with magic.
In Lupin’s vision, those 11 people had no trace of magic power or aura –
They were Muggles!
This realization made Lupin’s heart clench. He couldn’t help but look towards William White.
If he had to choose one of the WAC regional heads to be more reliable, he would choose William White.
This werewolf of Muggle origin had achieved considerable success in Muggle society. If he hadn’t been attacked by a werewolf and infected with Lycanthropy, he likely would have entered what Muggles called high society and become a member of the rule-makers.
But that was just “if.”
The reality was that William White had to abandon his status and wander about humbly, not even daring to see his family.
However, while he lost his status, William White retained his wisdom, insight, and experience. He was also the most experienced manager in WAC.
That’s why Vaughn entrusted him with the crucial Liverpool region.
As England’s premier export port and former shipbuilding center, although Liverpool had seen a sharp decline in shipbuilding due to deindustrialization and other factors, it remained an important producer of industrial goods and had a developed tourism industry.
With its convenient transportation and proximity to all of Europe, Liverpool attracted a large number of outsiders, making it suitable for both work and concealment, and providing a geographical and political foundation for establishing an intelligence network.
In Lupin’s mind, William White, who was in charge of the Liverpool region, was the most significant person and the one he wanted to win over.
In fact, they had exchanged letters a few times, cautiously discussing their views on WAC’s development.
That’s why Lupin instinctively looked at William White, wanting to understand from him who these Muggles were… or rather, what Vaughn wanted with these Muggles.
But to his surprise, William White didn’t return his gaze.
The middle-aged werewolf smiled gently and respectfully greeted Vaughn, “Sir, good evening. I have brought these guests as you instructed. They all have extensive experience and resources in precious metals in Muggle society.”
Saying this, he escorted Vaughn towards those people.
The 11 meticulously dressed Muggles looked a little uncertain and surprised. Vaughn’s age, and Barnaby kissing Vaughn’s robe, made them exchange glances.
Seeing William White usher Vaughn forward, a middle-aged man in a well-tailored suit, carrying a cane, frowned slightly, “Mr. Nye, what is going on? You said your boss wanted to discuss precious metals transactions with us. Is your boss this… this child?”
William White remained respectful and said gently, “Yes, Mr. Nye, this is my boss, Mr. Vaughn Weasley.”
“Absurd!”
“This is ridiculous. I didn’t take time out of my schedule to play house with a child.”
“Mr. White, you have disappointed us!”
The 11 Muggles became agitated. The middle-aged gentleman addressed as “Mr. Nye” even picked up his cane and coat, preparing to leave, “A boring prank, Mr. White. I agreed to this meeting solely based on your previous resume, but your actions make me feel insulted!”
But he didn’t leave after all.
He looked at the boy who had approached him, his expression calm. From his cuff, the boy drew out a “small wooden stick.” He heard the middle-aged man with a scar on his face and a melancholic expression, named Remus Lupin, exclaim from behind the boy, “Vaughn, don’t—”
Then, he saw light and darkness…
Lupin had always known Vaughn was a rule-breaker, but he never imagined that he would use Memory Magic on 11 Muggles in front of him!
When he saw Vaughn draw his wand and instinctively cry out, trying to stop him, it was already too late.
Silvery-gray light emanated from the tip of Vaughn’s wand, like mist descending from the sky and spreading across the ground, instantly engulfing the 11 Muggles.
Within the mist, the Muggles’ expressions quickly shifted from shock, surprise, and fear to peace. After a moment, Lupin saw them smiling.
Their smiles were satisfied, enthusiastic, and joyful, and it made his heart turn cold:
“Mr. Weasley, we’ve seen the information you provided. It’s truly an unimaginable primitive financial system. The planning and utilization of currency seem to be stuck centuries ago!”
“Yes, arbitrage transactions are entirely feasible. We have sufficient gold, silver, and copper. Of course, we’ll need to appraise the currency you’re using for trade to verify its precious metal content.”
Under the influence of the magic, these Muggles, who moments before were shouting about deception and disappointment, and were indignant, now seemed to have received enlightenment and were bringing the “discussion” and “negotiation” to a close.
Lupin watched it all in a daze, seeing Vaughn take out a few Gold Galleons, Silver Sickles, and Copper Nuts and hand them to the Muggles.
He watched the Muggles excitedly take out small tools and begin testing the precious metal content of the currency, feeling everything was so abrupt and magical…
Lupin didn’t know what he should do.
He was a kind, rule-abiding person. During his school years, he strictly followed Dumbledore’s teachings, hiding in the Shrieking Shack every full moon, enduring the pain and torment of transformation alone, until later when his three friends learned Animagus to accompany him.
After graduation, he answered the call of friendship and conscience and joined the Order of the Phoenix, fighting Death Eaters with his life – there’s no denying that during Voldemort’s rampage, it was a rare “good time” for werewolves.
Although Voldemort himself looked down on werewolves, considering them beasts, the Death Eaters didn’t mind using werewolves to spread fear.
When Voldemort was at the height of his power more than a decade ago, many werewolves joined the Dark Lord, burning, killing, and looting, releasing their long-accumulated anger and hatred from years of abandonment and rejection.
But Lupin never thought of becoming a Death Eater. His nature admired justice and yearned for order and goodness. His values were pure and simple.
Because of this, after Voldemort’s downfall, he refused Dumbledore’s arrangements and became an unknown wanderer, staying away from people, enduring poverty and loneliness.
It wasn’t that he was willing to be like that, but in his simple and pure values, protecting justice should not be mixed with personal gain, nor should privileges be enjoyed while disregarding potential dangers.
In every sense, Lupin was a law-abiding good person.
However, in front of this good person, Vaughn brazenly disregarded the Statute of Secrecy, using Memory Magic to control 11 Muggles!
Looking at these Muggles whose perceptions had been altered by Memory Magic, their enthusiasm soaring, and their joy overflowing.
Looking at this magical scene, Lupin felt as if his head had been electrified, dull and numb. He instinctively reached for his wand –
“Remus!”
A thin, withered hand pressed down on Lupin’s wand. Lupin turned to look. It was James Brown!
This werewolf wizard, whose parents were werewolves and who had never attended a magical school, had his magic awakened and, with his parents’ guidance, narrowly avoided dying as an Obscurus. He shook his head slightly at Lupin.
Following James’s subtle glance, Lupin noticed that Barnaby and William White had been watching him.
They… were waiting for him to make a mistake!
A sudden chill went through Lupin’s heart.
He certainly didn’t fear Barnaby and William White; these two couldn’t use magic. His chill stemmed from the human heart.
Lupin had always known that many werewolves didn’t particularly like him.
The reason was his “lack of respect” for Vaughn. In the past six months, Barnaby had spoken ill of him in public more than once, calling him disloyal and ungrateful.
Lupin had never paid much attention to Barnaby’s slander, nor did he care about the subtle dissatisfaction from other werewolves.
Because he clearly understood why he “disrespected” Vaughn. He hadn’t forgotten that his initial joining of WAC was to be a nail, preventing Vaughn from turning WAC into a tool for personal feuds.
He was clear that his intentions were good, and the werewolves would eventually understand his good intentions.
This was his greatest psychological advantage in facing slander and maintaining composure.
But today, at this moment, Lupin suddenly thought: Would Barnaby, William White, or the other werewolves ever truly understand his good intentions?
Just as he had always believed, all the werewolves WAC recruited were good people – there was no doubt about that; otherwise, they wouldn’t have exiled themselves and become wanderers.
But these very good people were now watching Vaughn violate the Statute of Secrecy and misuse magic on Muggles without a word of protest!
Instead, they were monitoring his every move, seemingly waiting for him to attack Vaughn, for him to seal his own doom, and then… to apprehend him!
After his momentary impulse was stopped by James Brown, Lupin, whose mind had regained its rationality, felt a chilling sensation from behind.
He couldn’t explain why they were doing this.
Jealous of Vaughn’s regard for him?
Simply disliked him?
Or… coveting the power he held?
In a fleeting moment, Lupin’s mind raced with many thoughts, many of which made him feel cold and desolate.
He didn’t know when these two had started to change. He only knew that in his heart, Barnaby was no longer the impulsive young werewolf from six months ago.
William White was no longer the mature and wise gentleman whose demeanor couldn’t be hidden even by his ragged clothes.
Of course, with his rationality returning, he also knew that he was no match for Vaughn. Even if he drew his wand, the outcome would likely be effortless crushing by Vaughn!
Hesitating, faltering.
Lupin ultimately put his wand back into his pocket.
Ahead, Vaughn, seemingly oblivious, “timely” turned around, beckoning him, “My dear Remus, come here and meet your future team, and Barnaby and James, you too.”
Looking at Vaughn, who had a smile on his lips and no change in his expression, Lupin suddenly wondered if he had truly noticed nothing.
Not necessarily!
The scene of meeting Vaughn today flashed through Lupin’s mind.
The other party had inexplicably appeared at his home, without even a prior greeting. This behavior was very abrupt.
Coupled with Vaughn’s spell that destroyed his Full Body-Bind Curse and “restrained” him, that action, which could be described as a show of force, suddenly gave Lupin some realization –
Vaughn had done it deliberately!
Vaughn was demonstrating his power, precisely so that he could clearly understand the gap in strength between them, giving him a reason to be “calmer,” lest he do something irrational!
Upon realizing this, Lupin felt a bit dejected.
James patted his arm and pulled him over to Vaughn’s side. Barnaby also walked over.
Vaughn looked at the three of them and asked, “Do you know about Muggle arbitrage trading?”
Lupin didn’t want to speak, but Barnaby, as usual, was always quite enthusiastic in front of Vaughn. He apologized loudly, “I’m sorry, sir. My self-taught Muggle knowledge doesn’t include this. I’ve disappointed you!”
“My dear Barnaby, no need to apologize. No one can know everything. If you don’t know, you can learn, you can consult professionals. This is also why I asked William to find these 11 Muggle experts… Mr. Nye, please explain.”
The Muggle named Nye took off his hat and bowed cheerfully, “It’s my honor, Mr. Weasley.”
His earnest smiling face, devoid of the arrogance and anger from moments before, appeared very gentle and patient. He said, “Arbitrage trading, as the name suggests, is a trading method that utilizes the difference in interest rates between different regions to transfer funds from a region with lower interest rates to a region with higher interest rates, thereby obtaining the difference in profit.”
“Let’s use a practical example to illustrate, such as your Wizarding World’s currency system.”
Mr. Nye took out two pieces of Wizarding World currency that Vaughn had just given them: one Gold Galleon and one Silver Sickle.
“To be honest, Mr. Weasley, given your Wizarding World’s currency structure, arranging for us to do arbitrage trading is really a waste of talent, as it’s too simplistic and the market capacity is small.”
In Memory Magic, if the caster doesn’t deliberately alter the personality, the affected person generally acts according to their own character.
Mr. Nye’s personality didn’t seem too good. With a casual “belittling” remark, under Vaughn’s smile and Barnaby’s annoyed gaze, he spoke at length, “We’ve just tested it. These coins are real gold and silver. Their face value has almost no credit content; they are divided entirely according to the corresponding metal value in your Wizarding World.”
“In other words, this Gold Galleon and this Silver Sickle, their face value is almost equivalent to the gold and silver price in the Wizarding World.”
“1 Gold Galleon = 17 Silver Sickles. This is both the currency exchange rate and the gold-silver ratio…”
At this point, Mr. Nye looked at Lupin, then at James, and then at Barnaby, “The price of gold is 17 times the price of silver. Can I assume this is correct?”
The three werewolves exchanged glances. Wasn’t this an obvious question?
Mr. Nye seemed to have understood the Wizarding World’s “ignorance” through the memories transmitted by the Memory Magic. He was very patient, “Mr. Lupin, from what I understand, you have done some research on the financial situation of the Wizarding World.”
This “from what I understand” was clearly a memory fabricated and transmitted by Vaughn.
Because Lupin had just told Vaughn not long ago that he had specifically researched the financial structure of the Wizarding World. He glanced at Vaughn, remained silent, and simply nodded.
“So, let’s use an example. Now, if I use the Pounds Sterling we have from the Muggle world to purchase a batch of silver, and then transport it to Gringotts, can I exchange it for an equivalent amount of Silver Sickles from the goblins?”
When it came to practical issues like this, Lupin couldn’t remain silent. He thought for a moment, “It can be exchanged. Goblins are fanatical about precious metals, especially gold and silver. However, they are greedy and will require you to pay a coining fee.”
“Then, what is this tax rate?”
“15%!” Lupin said, shrugging, “As I said, goblins are greedy.”
But Mr. Nye was unperturbed and continued, “What if I requested to exchange the silver for an equivalent amount of Gold Galleons at a ratio of 17:1? Is that possible?”
“Of course, as long as you pay the coining fee.”
*Snap!*
Mr. Nye clapped his hands and smiled, a smile full of enthusiasm and disdain, “Very good, Mr. Lupin. Greed is normal. From the perspective of arbitrage trading, we like the goblins’ greed. As long as we can successfully exchange silver for Gold Galleons at a ratio of 17:1, a 15% coining fee is entirely acceptable… Gentlemen, do you know what the gold-silver ratio is in our Muggle society?”
Before they could answer, he excitedly exclaimed, “80 times! Gentlemen, a full 80 times! （Historical international gold-silver ratio. Couldn’t find specific data for England in ’92!）”
Amidst Mr. Nye’s excited shouts, Barnaby, Lupin, and even James Brown held their breath.
By this point, they had understood Mr. Nye’s meaning.
It was clear that the value of gold and silver in the Wizarding World was different from that in Muggle society.
And the so-called arbitrage was to exploit the fact that the Wizarding World and Muggle society were economically independent, with a large difference in the value of equivalents, to earn the difference in profit!
“How easy is this, gentlemen? With 1 Gold Galleon of gold, we can get 80 Silver Sickles equivalent in silver in Muggle society. Then, converting this silver back to Gold Galleons and exchanging it in Muggle society for more silver… Gentlemen, it won’t take long; just one week, and we can empty Gringotts!”
The three werewolves were struck by a conceptual shock, their expressions dazed.
Vaughn, with William White, walked out of the private room.
William, with his glorious past, had also been an elite student at a renowned school. Although not a finance major, he knew about this arbitrage method that had long been overused in Muggle society.
However, he was also surprised when he first heard about Vaughn’s plan.
From his understanding, wizards generally seemed indifferent to everything in Muggle society. Vaughn was the first “anomaly” he had ever met who used financial means.
Thinking about it, he couldn’t help but ask, “Sir, have you considered that the goblins might eventually realize the drawbacks of this arbitrage and restrict gold-silver exchanges?”
Vaughn smiled and retorted, “Do you think goblins can suppress their love for gold and silver?”
“Uh…”
Having lived in the Wizarding World for many years, even though he mostly lived in seclusion, William had gained enough understanding of the Wizarding World through newspapers and magazines alone.
The goblin race certainly couldn’t suppress their love for precious metals.
Historically, those fellows would rather have their wands taken away than give up their grip on gold, silver, and currency, practically the epitome of being obsessed with money.
“In their eyes, precious metals are not Pounds Sterling; they have value, and a high one. So, even if they discover this, they will only demand a cut and won’t consider restricting gold-silver exchanges.”
William subconsciously asked, “Then, will you share the profits with them?”
Vaughn shrugged, “Perhaps. Who knows? It depends on the goblins’ attitude. If they are rational, we might be able to give them a taste of some benefits, but if they are foolish… then, regrettably, according to the Statute of Secrecy, creatures like goblins are not allowed to interact with Muggles. The right to trade precious metals can only be held by wizards!”
Since he intended to conduct arbitrage, Vaughn naturally wouldn’t do so without preparation.
The arbitrage trading model was simple; success depended entirely on channels and resources.
As a wizard, Vaughn naturally had few connections in Muggle society.
However, Memory Magic could rapidly enrich his connections!
As for the Wizarding World, there was even less to worry about. Vaughn considered himself somewhat famous and a member of the Wizengamot. Dealing with mere goblins should not be a problem.
Even if his prestige couldn’t suppress the goblins… wasn’t there Dumbledore?
In distant Devon, Dumbledore, who was visiting an old friend, inexplicably sneezed.
The loud sound startled a very thin and dry old man next to him.
With a *crack*, the old man’s brittle bone dislocated.
“Ouch—Merlin’s beard—”
“Sorry, Nicolas. I might have a cold. Are you alright? Let me see.”
“*Crack!*”
“Ouch—it’s broken, it’s broken…”
