The little witch holding a chocolate ice cream cone scrambled to her feet, looking nervously at the old man.
She pointed a hesitant finger at herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Sorry, Headmaster Dumbledore, are you talking about me?"
The half-moon spectacles on the old man's face glinted softly in the sunlight. He raised a hand to calm her, his tone as gentle and steady as ever. "No need to worry, child. This Gringotts robbery has nothing to do with you. In fact, you're one of the victims of this incident."
"Professor," Adam leaned forward slightly from his seat nearby, his voice cautious, "are you saying the Black family vault wasn't spared either?"
"Sharp instincts," Dumbledore said with a smile. "If this were a classroom, I might award you two points. But alas, you're not yet a student, and I'm no longer teaching Transfiguration."
He nodded at Adam, a flicker of nostalgia passing through his bright blue eyes, as if a memory from long ago had resurfaced. After a brief pause, he continued, "According to the goblins at Gringotts, the dark wizards made a beeline for the lower vaults after breaking in. The Black family vault happens to be in that area."
"Fortunately, it's located further back," Dumbledore's voice grew somber. "The robbers looted the vaults closer to the entrance, but they triggered an alchemical alarm before long. Gringotts' curse-breakers spotted them soon after."
"After an inventory, they found only one item missing."
"What was it?" Adam asked, his brow furrowing. Something about this felt off.
Dumbledore's gaze shifted to the dazed little witch, his tone softening further. "According to the vault records, it was likely an heirloom left by Shirley's father."
Adam pressed, "Was it important? Worth risking a break-in at Gringotts?"
The old man paused, then shook his head slowly. "Perhaps not. The robbers left in a hurry, not even bothering to pick up scattered Galleons. The heirloom was near the entrance—likely just grabbed in passing."
He looked at Shirley, his eyes warm with encouragement. "Would you like to see for yourself, child?"
Adam gently took Shirley's cold hand, noticing her fingers curling nervously.
She nodded silently, her lips pressed into a tight line, her eyelashes casting trembling shadows beneath her eyes.
"It looks like we're headed to Gringotts together," Dumbledore said. "The Ministry could use a magical creatures expert right now. I'd like you and Newt to check on the dragon the goblins are keeping. I hear you're quite knowledgeable about dragons, Adam."
He gave Adam a playful wink.
The group arrived at Gringotts, their eyes drawn to the towering structure of gleaming white marble. Sunlight danced off its polished walls, casting a cold, sharp glow.
Adam recalled passing by not long ago, when a goblin in a scarlet uniform adorned with intricate golden runes had stood guard by the entrance. Now, stern-faced Ministry Aurors in billowing black cloaks had taken their place.
They climbed the white stone steps and passed through the shining bronze doors. A few steps in, a silver gate loomed before them, etched with the goblins' twisting, flowing script—letters that seemed to writhe, warning intruders not to covet what wasn't theirs.
Adam, however, suspected the goblins' true message was that everything stored here belonged to them, destined to remain under their "rightful" control.
Beyond the gate, a vast marble hall stretched out, grand and imposing. The long counters on either side were deserted, their brass scales and monocles arranged neatly but forlornly, reflecting a cold light.
Adam's gaze fell on a ledger at the left counter, its fresh ink smudged by a spilled ink bottle. A quill lay slanted in the mess, a drop of dark ink still clinging to its tip. Clearly, no one in the hall had noticed the robbery when it happened.
As he stepped closer to inspect it, a small, quick-moving goblin appeared, blocking his path. Dressed in a pristine suit, its gray-green skin and meticulously trimmed nails gleamed. The goblin's calloused hand pushed firmly against Adam's shoulder, its arms spreading to obscure his view.
"Mr. Dumbledore," the goblin's sharp voice echoed through the hall, its eyes skipping past Adam to land on the headmaster, "may I ask why you've returned to Gringotts?"
Dumbledore smiled warmly, a knowing glint in his eyes. "My student wishes to check on her family's vault, and Mr. Newt Scamander here, a renowned magizoologist, has been invited by the Ministry to investigate the dragon matter."
The goblin's expression soured, its pointed ears twitching as it opened its mouth to protest.
A deep voice cut in from behind. "The Ministry's Aurors are in charge here now. Take it up with your supervisor."
Rufus Scrimgeour strode into the hall, his suit swaying with his purposeful steps. His gaze swept over Adam and the goblin before settling on Newt. "Good to see you, Scamander. I didn't expect you'd be the one to show up. Looks like we'll soon find out what these goblins are hiding."
Newt, who'd been lingering quietly in a corner, froze under the sudden attention. A stiff smile crossed his face as he nodded faintly. "I'll do my best."
As Adam narrowed his eyes at the goblin, Shirley held up the Black family's gilded key. Another goblin appeared, guiding them through a hidden door behind the counter.
Moss-covered stone walls glowed faintly under wandlight as the narrow corridor seemed to swallow them, leading deep into Gringotts' underground world.
With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, the rickety cart on the tracks transformed into a polished, burgundy carriage adorned with gilded filigree. Its wheels sang a soft, pleasant chime against the metal rails.
Gringotts' underground vaults were a sprawling labyrinth carved deep into the earth, plunging over a kilometer below the surface. The carriage hurtled through a web of rocky tunnels, twisting and diving, occasionally passing ancient bronze lanterns that cast feeble light along the walls.
After nearly twenty minutes of jarring twists and turns, the view opened to a serene underground lake. Its mirror-like surface reflected massive stalactites hanging from above, while jagged stalagmites pierced the water, glistening droplets sliding down their milky tips. Each drip sent delicate ripples across the lake, the soft plinks echoing in the stillness.
A faint sulfurous smell hung in the air, a subtle hint they were nearing their destination.
The carriage lurched to a stop before a wide, rocky platform. Shirley, pale and clutching her mouth, looked queasy from the rough ride. The carriage had scraped against the walls, screeching loudly, and even Adam felt his stomach churn.
He gently patted her back, his touch warm and reassuring through her robes.
When Shirley felt steady enough, they stepped off. The goblin pressed the key to a spot on the stone door, and with a shimmer of light, the heavy vault door faded away, revealing a dazzling world within.
Adam's throat went dry the moment he stepped inside.
Piles of Galleons rose over dozens of feet high, spilling across the floor like sand on a beach, reaching past ankles and threatening to swallow shins with each step. Atop the mounds, treasures were haphazardly stacked: a golden chalice studded with pigeon-blood rubies, a bronze astrolabe etched with star charts, crystal vials glowing softly.
Some items even bore striking resemblance to relics described in Legendary Alchemy.
Adam glanced at Shirley, but her face remained calm, her fingers tracing the Black family crest on the gilded key.
"If you're thinking of changing your name, I could hand over the key," she said with a sly grin.
Adam paused, then mumbled, "I think Adam Morgan sounds pretty good as is…"
Shirley let out a soft laugh, her mood lifting. She turned to a treasure chest near the door, its lid dusted with gray except for one suspiciously clean spot—clearly where something had been recently taken. As she moved toward it, Adam grabbed her wrist.
He drew his wand and cast a Levitation Charm on a nearby golden goblet, watching it settle onto the chest. When nothing happened, he exhaled, though his shoulders remained tense, his grip on his wand tightening.
The goblin smirked, its tone laced with mockery. "No need for that. The protective charms here have been temporarily lifted. But if you insist, I can handle it for you."
"If those charms were any good, we wouldn't be here," Adam shot back, his tone equally sharp.
He turned to Shirley. "Do you remember what's missing?"
She stared at the chest, her brow creasing, but finally shook her head in defeat.
Adam asked the goblin for the vault ledger, and they scoured it beside the chest, searching for clues. The only lead was that the items had been deposited by Shirley's father on December 20, 1979, with another person present—though their name wasn't recorded.
"Christmas Eve… maybe your dad was picking out a gift?" Adam ventured, raising an eyebrow.
Shirley's lips turned downward. "I don't know. I've never even seen him. Even my mom's face… it's starting to feel blurry…"
Her eyelashes cast delicate shadows, her voice heavy with loss.
Adam reached out, gently ruffling her hair, his fingers smoothing the strands mussed by the breeze. "It's okay. At least they left other things for you. Come on, let's get out of here."
Shirley nodded softly, gathering the scattered Galleons. The glinting coins piled into a small mound in her hands before vanishing into a nondescript pouch—a clear alchemical creation, its appearance unchanged despite the load.
Catching Adam's curious glance, she sighed. "It's an Undetectable Extension Charm pouch made from Occamy hide. But you're not taking this one to tinker with. I'll get you a few new ones next time."
Adam shrugged, ignoring the goblin's increasingly sour expression. "I just think this place isn't secure enough. Maybe I can find you a safer spot—somewhere with a few dragons guarding the vault."
Shirley's ears turned pink, her fingers fidgeting with the pouch's drawstring. She took the bronze key back from the goblin and followed Adam to the carriage.
The tracks cast faint shadows on the stone walls as the cart rattled through the winding tunnels, the damp air of the underground lake clinging to Adam's hair.
But as his boots touched the ground by the lake, Newt's brow furrowed deeply, his grip tightening on his notebook, knuckles whitening.
Dumbledore's smile faded, his gaze drifting to flickers of eerie blue phosphorescence on the lake's surface. Behind his spectacles, a faint trace of worry passed through his eyes.
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