Chapter 19
London. Charing Cross Road. The Leaky Cauldron.
The moment Severus stepped into the lively bar, he headed straight for the counter. A stooped man in dark clothes stood behind it, wiping a glass with a white cloth.
"How much to rent a room for two days?"
"A Galleon. You will have to pay an extra four Sickles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," the man replied calmly. But when seven gold coins appeared on the counter, the owner smiled briskly, set down a key, and took the money. "Room twenty-nine. Dinner will be served in two hours."
"All right." Severus took the key but did not go upstairs right away. Instead, he left through the back door that led to Diagon Alley. He is still a strange man, but he reminds me of someone.
A few minutes later he was standing before a huge white building looming over the shops.
"Gringotts Bank." he read above the massive bronze doors. Entrusting your money to goblins. what has the world come to. though after a Basilisk in a school full of children, it probably should not surprise me.
The goblins from Alan's old world were savage beasts, fit only for destruction, rape, and murder. They had no intelligence and acted on pure instinct, so the very idea of trusting them with something like a bank would have been absurd. But this was not his world, and he forced himself to put such prejudices aside.
Passing a small creature that looked like a house-elf, with huge ears, a long nose, a disproportionate head, and elongated hands and feet, he entered the building and immediately found himself facing two more silver doors with words engraved on them:
"Rise, stranger, but take into account:
Retribution awaits those who sin with envy,
You want to get wealth without work,
You will not have to pay cheaply for that.
The treasure that sleeps peacefully in the dungeon,
Remember, it does not belong to you,
Thief, tremble! And know that, besides the treasure,
You will find there something that you do not need at all."
Severus's eye twitched.
And goblins write this. my world will never be the same again. Shaking his head, he walked through the doors and entered a huge marble hall where work was in full swing.
Countless goblins stood behind tall counters, working diligently. Each one wore a business suit and paid no attention to anything around them. All that could be heard was the rustle of pages, along with the loud, uneven stamp of feet.
Severus did not approach any of them. Instead, he went straight to the goblin in the center who looked older, the one who seemed to be in charge.
"I want access to Eileen Prince's vault."
"Hm?" The elderly goblin frowned up at him. "Only the owner of the vault can."
"I am her son, and I have the key."
"Hmm." The goblin leaned forward lazily, produced a golden cup, and set it on the counter. "Please drip some of your blood to verify the relationship," he said, pulling out a small vial containing a single drop of blood. "If the relationship is confirmed, and since the owner of the vault is dead, you, as the closest relative, will be granted access. If you lied, you will pay a fine of one thousand Galleons for using the ritual." At the mention of gold, his eyes brightened, and with a satisfied smack of his lips he poured the blood into the cup of water.
Without replying, Severus cut his finger and let his blood drip calmly.
For the first few seconds nothing happened, and as the smile on the goblin's lips grew a little wider, the water began to glow and the blood began to merge.
"Show me the key," he grumbled, no longer nearly as cheerful.
They descended into a gloomy dungeon lit only by torches, climbed into a cart, and raced down the tracks through corridor after corridor and vault after vault at an unbelievable speed. Within minutes they reached a cavern sealed behind a slightly rusted steel door. Severus handed over the key, and the goblin, with some effort, turned it. With a grinding sound, the door swung open, revealing a small pile of gold coins.
About six thousand Galleons. "Tell me, when was the last time my mother came here?"
"Twenty-three years and six months ago."
So, pride. Severus shook his head wearily, pulled out a small bag, and transferred every coin into it under the goblin's displeased stare. If the real Snape were in my place, he probably would not even touch this money. But I am not him, and I will put it to good use.
When he left the bank, Severus ignored the goblins' disgruntled expressions. They looked at him like he had killed their mother and eaten her right in front of them. Even the goblin by the entrance could not be bothered to look at him, only hissing contemptuously as he passed.
How are they still afloat with service like this? Even the seediest bar in my world treats its customers like gods, even if they walk out and go to a competitor. Severus shook his head in disappointment. He had honestly hoped he could keep using this bank. Although. there is no competition. If he remembered correctly, it was the only bank in the country, so their arrogance made a certain kind of sense. And recognition from the Ministry of Magic certainly helped.
Severus stopped thinking about it and headed straight for a fairly large two-story building. Its windows were boarded up, and a sign hung on the door: "For Sale."
The moment he stepped inside, devastation hit him. Broken tables and chairs, shattered plates and bottles scattered across the floor. Unflattering drawings on the walls, stains on the wood and wallpaper, and an unpleasant smell that clung to everything.
"Hello, young man," a middle-aged wizard with a tired face said as he came down from the second floor. "Are you looking to buy this building?"
"Yes, but first I would like to know the price, and then I will decide whether to take it."
"Of course. Four thousand seven hundred Galleons. I am not lowering it any further. I am already selling it for next to nothing. A simple Reparo would restore the furniture and patch the holes in the floor."
"No problem, I will take it, but this deal still feels too tempting. A building this big, almost in the center of Diagon Alley, and for so little." Severus narrowed his eyes, suspicion aimed at the wizard's faint embarrassment.
"We are moving to another country. It is too dangerous here right now," the wizard explained with a mournful sigh as he sat on the only chair that was not ruined. "I am Muggle-born, my wife is a half-blood, and she is pregnant. if it were not for the war, we would not be selling anything, of course, but I am worried about my family. I want them safe."
"I understand. Sorry for doubting you."
"It is fine. I would be cautious too."
"I will take it for five thousand. I would pay more, but almost every Galleon counts these days," Severus said with an apologetic smile.
"Thank you! Do not worry, that is enough." The wizard took out a small wallet and pulled out three A4 sheets of paper covered in text that shimmered with magic. "Let us go to Bank G."
"No need." Severus pointed at one of the tables and cast Reparo, restoring it quickly under the wizard's surprised gaze. Then Severus pulled out a smaller pouch, tapped it a couple of times, and at once Galleons burst out like a fountain, glowing gold as they flew to the table and landed in neat stacks of two hundred coins.
In less than a minute, five thousand coins lay there.
"I just came from the bank."
"I see." The wizard nodded slowly. "If I understand correctly, this is your first time handling a transaction like this?"
"That is right, but I have read plenty about the process, so I would like to see the real documents, not this fake."
"Of course. But we will still have to visit Gringotts, because the real documents are there," the wizard admitted sheepishly, and Severus gave him a dry smile.
"I have a feeling that if I go back in now, they will chase me out with wet rags."
"Something wrong?"
"No. Let us go."
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