"Last step — we're heading to Gringotts."
Without lingering in the shop, Tonks continued leading George toward Gringotts.
Gringotts was the only wizarding bank in all of Britain, managed entirely by goblins. It stood proudly on the north side of Diagon Alley, gleaming under the sunlight like a fortress of wealth and secrecy. Apart from storing money and safeguarding the valuables of witches and wizards, Gringotts also exchanged Muggle currency for wizarding gold, making it a vital institution in magical society.
Having officially inherited the old wizard's estate through the Ministry of Magic, George naturally had to visit Gringotts to transfer the assets into his own name. This was the final step in claiming everything the old man had left behind.
When they arrived at the marble steps of the bank, George couldn't help muttering under his breath as he eyed the goblin guards stationed at the entrance.
"So ugly…"
The goblins, dressed in scarlet uniforms trimmed with gold, hardly fit anyone's idea of elegance. Their twisted features and sharp expressions made them look more like goblins from fairy tales than noble bankers. In this world, goblins and elves were not the graceful, ethereal beings of imagination, but short, wiry creatures whose appearance leaned heavily toward the grotesque.
Following Tonks up the gleaming white steps, George passed through the heavy bronze doors of Gringotts. Beyond them stood another set of silver doors, upon which words were engraved in large, glinting letters — a warning to all who entered. The message was clear:
Anyone who sought to steal from Gringotts or harbor ill intent toward its treasure would suffer a most miserable end.
Two goblin attendants stood guard beside the silver doors. They bowed slightly to Tonks and George before leading them into the main hall.
Inside, the grandeur of Gringotts was overwhelming.
The ceiling stretched high above, supported by marble pillars that shone like ivory. Dozens upon dozens of goblins sat behind tall counters, quills scratching rapidly as they processed transactions for the steady stream of witches and wizards. The air was filled with the clink of coins, the rustle of parchment, and the occasional impatient cough from a customer waiting their turn.
Tonks guided George toward an unoccupied goblin clerk. She took out the stack of documents she had just processed at the Ministry of Magic and handed them over.
"Vault inheritance transfer," she said briskly.
The goblin adjusted his spectacles and began reviewing the papers. Unlike the sluggish pace of Ministry employees, Gringotts staff were known for their efficiency. Within moments, the goblin nodded and said in a thin, businesslike voice, "Everything appears in order. This is the key to Vault 352. Please keep it secure. Would you like to make a withdrawal today?"
George took the small, intricately carved key and slipped it into his pocket. "No, just tell me the current balance."
He still had about five hundred Galleons left from what remained in the shop after the old wizard's passing — enough to sustain him for now.
The goblin flipped through a massive ledger, the quill scratching rapidly across the parchment before replying, "Vault 352 currently holds a total of thirteen thousand, two hundred Galleons."
Tonks's eyebrows rose slightly. "Thirteen thousand? The potion business really is lucrative," she murmured, unable to hide a hint of envy. "I only make a hundred Galleons a month right now, and even when I'm promoted to full-time, it'll barely be one hundred forty."
Her tone carried the weight of realism — and a touch of longing.
By comparison, George's inheritance was an enormous sum. With Tonks's salary, it would take her more than ten years to save that much, and that was assuming she didn't spend a single Knut. In reality, it might take twenty or thirty years.
George, who had initially frowned upon hearing the number, relaxed slightly at Tonks's reaction. He had expected the old wizard to have saved at least a hundred thousand Galleons, so he was somewhat disappointed at first. But upon reflection, it made sense. Running a potion shop — especially one that dabbled in black market trade — was profitable, yes, but also expensive. The cost of purchasing the shop, researching advanced potions, and constantly buying rare ingredients could easily drain fortunes.
Having over ten thousand Galleons left after all that was, in truth, quite reasonable.
And compared to Tonks's meager government salary, it was still a small fortune. Enough to keep him comfortable for years, even if he indulged himself occasionally.
Wizarding currency came in three forms: Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. One Galleon equaled seventeen Sickles, and one Sickle equaled twenty-nine Knuts.
According to Tonks's memory, The Daily Prophet cost just five Knuts, a modest meal was two or three Sickles, and even the best-quality wands rarely exceeded ten Galleons.
In other words, George was now very wealthy — at least by the standards of most witches and wizards.
As they stepped out of Gringotts, Tonks turned to him with a warm smile.
"George, Hogwarts should send your new acceptance letter tomorrow morning. Make sure to study hard there — you'll make plenty of friends. I have to head back now, but come visit me sometime, alright?"
George's heart stirred. "Sister Tonks," he said sincerely, "if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been able to inherit the estate so smoothly. Please let me treat you to lunch as thanks. You won't refuse, will you?"
"I…" Tonks hesitated. She had planned to return to the Ministry of Magic right away, but George's hopeful eyes — and the memory of the delicious food she'd eaten earlier that morning — made her waver.
Finally, she smiled. "Of course I won't refuse. Then I'll trouble you."
It was already lunchtime anyway, and returning a little late wouldn't hurt.
George let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Her presence in the shop would serve more than one purpose. Having an Auror like Tonks visiting regularly would discourage the shadier wizards in Knockturn Alley from causing trouble. And beyond that, George hoped to build a closer relationship with her — perhaps even convince her to teach him a few useful spells before he left for Hogwarts.
That, in fact, was crucial.
His true body — the one trapped in the experimental base — would need every bit of magical knowledge he could gather when the time came to escape. Surviving the pursuit that followed would be even harder. The more magic he learned now, the better his chances would be later.
"Good thing I can cook," George thought as they returned to the shop. He decided to prepare a feast — not just to thank Tonks, but also to ensure she'd be tempted to visit again.
As the old wizard's former assistant, Dora had learned to cook well out of necessity. Combined with George's own passion for food from his previous life, he was confident he could create something truly special. While he might not match a professional chef, his dishes were always a hit among friends.
And so, he got to work.
Soon the table was covered with dishes Tonks had never seen before.
She took a bite, her eyes lighting up in surprise. "What kind of dish is this? It's amazing! I've never tasted anything like it."
"Sweet and sour pork," George replied with a grin.
She tried another. "And this one?"
"Kung Pao chicken."
"And this?"
"Scrambled eggs with tomatoes."
Each new flavor brought a fresh wave of delight. By the end of the meal, Tonks leaned back in her chair, patting her full stomach and sighing contentedly.
"This is the best meal I've ever had."
George smiled as he began clearing the table. "If you liked it, Sister Tonks, you can come by anytime. I can make plenty more dishes you've never tried before."
Tonks waved her hands quickly. "Oh, no, no — I can't do that. I'd feel terrible freeloading off you. You've already been through so much, George."
To her, George was just a boy who had suffered more than enough. As an Auror, she couldn't take advantage of someone in his situation — it went against her principles.
But George understood the hesitation behind her words. He set down the plates and said seriously, "Sister Tonks, please don't feel embarrassed. Your visits actually help me a lot. This is Knockturn Alley, after all…"
That was all he needed to say.
Tonks wasn't foolish. With that reminder, she immediately grasped his meaning. Her presence as an Auror would deter troublemakers — a quiet shield of protection for the boy living alone in a dangerous part of the wizarding world.
After a pause, she nodded. "In that case, alright. Sister will come over when she has time — to freeload meals," she added with a teasing smile. "But I won't eat for free. I'll pay for all the ingredients. No refusing."
George smiled, pretending to protest, but inwardly he was pleased. This arrangement was exactly what he'd hoped for.
The two shared a brief laugh as sunlight streamed through the window, casting a golden hue across the table. For the first time in a long while, George felt warmth — not from food, but from the companionship of someone who truly cared.
And though neither of them said it aloud, both understood that this simple meal marked the beginning of a quiet bond — one that would soon play a far greater role than either could imagine.