At that moment, the goblins busy balancing the day's accounts received an unusual guest.
A child in luxurious robes, hood drawn low over his face, walked in front. Behind him followed a hulking bodyguard wrapped tightly from head to toe. The guard carried a leather case that looked heavy, the very image of a nouveau riche entourage.
The child lifted his head, glanced at the inscription carved on Gringotts' silver gate, shrugged, and strode in with calm confidence.
Gringotts had two gates, one of bronze and one of silver, each etched with warnings:
'Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.'
The goblins at the counters raised their heads, scrutinizing the uninvited guest. It was clear enough to them—the true visitor was the child who carried himself with poise, while the figure behind him was nothing more than a servant.
The pair stopped at the main counter. The bodyguard, with only his eyes visible, looked down at the goblins from above.
"Apologies, the bank is closing. If you wish to withdraw money, please return tomorrow morning," the goblin said calmly, meeting the bodyguard's stare.
"Oh? I can't make a deposit either? I intend to open a Vault—my own Vault," the robed child replied.
"A Vault?" The goblin's expression shifted at once into a broad smile. "Our Vaults aren't cheap. Permanent usage rights cost two thousand Galleons. Of course, if you deposit a large enough sum, you may qualify for a discount."
Two thousand? Midgard, the bodyguard, twitched at the number.
Why not just call it daylight robbery?
The goblin noticed his reaction and glanced at Midgard with disdain. A bodyguard frightened by a mere two thousand Galleons—how typical. But the child remained perfectly composed. An heir to a great family, perhaps? Yet if so, why would such a family need another permanent Vault?
In truth, Leonard himself was inwardly shocked at the price.
Two thousand Galleons—what did that even mean? In his previous life, he'd seen the wage structure of the wizarding world. A Hogwarts professor, considered a high-paying job, earned only fifty Galleons a week. Even without eating or spending a Knut, they'd need more than half a year's salary just to buy permanent rights to a Vault.
And this was only a Vault. It didn't come with any money inside.
It was hard to imagine how the famously poor Weasley family managed to keep one. Spending two thousand Galleons on a Vault just to guard savings of less than fifty? Clearly, their ancestors must have known wealth once.
Leonard had put a lot into this plan. He'd even bought clothing for himself and Midgard at Twilfitt and Tattings, the luxury boutique in Diagon Alley, and did so anonymously. Those two outfits alone had cost nearly a hundred Galleons.
If this venture failed, it wouldn't just bankrupt Midgard's werewolf organization—Leonard himself would be left aching at the loss. Every Galleon here had been earned with great effort.
"Only permanent usage rights? No short-term rentals?" Leonard asked.
The goblin studied him briefly, then shook its head. "Apologies, we don't offer short-term rentals."
With his face hidden, his age and build indistinguishable, it was impossible to even tell if he was male or female.
Gringotts had no concept of short-term leasing. It was a vault built by greedy goblins to hoard vast wealth, serving the old, established families.
Leonard snapped his fingers. "I've got plenty of Galleons. Tell me about your discount."
Under the goblin's watchful gaze, Midgard placed the leather case on the counter and opened it.
A brilliant golden light burst forth, nearly blinding the goblin.
Though the case looked small, inside it stretched nearly a thousand cubic feet. Aside from a few kerosene lamps hanging at the edges, it was piled high with gleaming Galleons, threatening to spill over.
The goblin's eyes immediately lit up with greed. He picked up a few coins, confirmed their authenticity, then leaned further into the chest.
The dazzling sea of gold widened his grin even more. Rubbing his hands together, he looked at Leonard.
"Though I haven't counted it all, it's clearly a considerable sum. For this amount, I could give you... a two percent discount."
He said it as though offering a single percent off, face contorted in mock regret. But for a money-hungry goblin, this was nothing unusual.
Leonard's face twitched under his hood. "Enough nonsense. I need to choose a vault. Which ones are vacant?"
"We have empty vaults in nearly every section, more than enough to meet your needs." The goblin, all eagerness, pulled out a brand-new ledger. "For instance, these are vaults we've constructed within the last century..."
"Hmph. Don't show me those." Leonard gave a cold snort. "I won't have my vault lumped together with shallow family vaults. I want something remote and ancient. Only then will it be safe enough."
"Well... most of our ancient vaults are already taken. It would be difficult to find one," the goblin hesitated.
"I don't care. I care only about my reputation." Leonard forced his tone to brim with arrogance.
"But ancient vaults are maintained with unusual magic, and the costs are extremely high, so..." The goblin hinted insistently.
"Money isn't a problem." Leonard tapped the counter. "Three thousand Galleons. Find me a vault old enough."
"Of course, sir. The moment you entered, I knew you were a noble wizard of exquisite taste."
The goblin's grin stretched wide. "We'll select a vault from the lowest levels. Those vaults have stood almost as long as Gringotts itself."
"Take us there first. I need to see for myself that it's as ancient as you claim," Leonard said.
"Certainly, that is your right." The goblin hopped down from the counter. "Those vaults are well maintained—no vermin like Doxy infest them. Please, follow me."
He pulled out a worn ledger from behind the counter, blew the dust off, then turned to Leonard with a smile before leading the way.
The plan was unfolding smoothly.
Leonard casually pulled out his pocket watch, checked the time, and gave Midgard a nod.
Midgard, keeping her composure, raised a discreet thumbs-up to Leonard before hefting the case and continuing her act as bodyguard, following closely behind.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.