Gringotts was a towering white building situated at the intersection of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley.
Run entirely by goblins, it was the sole wizarding bank in the magical world, a place where one could store wealth or rent vaults.
It was said to be the safest location in the wizarding world, second only to Hogwarts itself.
The pair—one elderly professor and one young student—passed through the bronze and silver doors into a vast marble hall.
About a hundred goblins sat perched on high stools behind long counters on both sides, some weighing coins on brass scales, others examining precious gems through jeweler's eyepieces, all scribbling hurriedly in large ledgers.
Countless doors lined the hall, each leading off to different areas, with goblins bustling about to escort visitors through them.
Ethan's gaze wandered curiously as he studied the working goblins around him.
They had sharp ears, cunning faces that seemed perfectly suited to counting every last Knut, and unusually long limbs that contrasted oddly with their short stature.
"Ethan, look away," Professor Fig whispered quietly. "Goblins dislike being stared at. They are extremely clever, but not exactly friendly."
Ethan ducked his head obediently, keeping his eyes fixed forward as he followed Professor Fig to an empty counter.
"Good day," Professor Fig greeted the goblin behind the counter politely. "We've come to collect the Hogwarts student allowance for a new student."
"Paperwork," the goblin replied curtly without looking up, continuing to write something with his quill.
Professor Fig produced a piece of parchment, handing it over: "Here you go."
The goblin placed his quill back into the inkpot, took the parchment, and studied it carefully.
"Mr. Ethan, correct? Your allowance for this school year is thirty Galleons. Here you are," the goblin said, producing a palm-sized pouch from beneath the counter and counting out thirty gleaming gold coins, which clinked softly as they dropped into the pouch.
Ethan took the pouch, which seemed hardly heavier, and pulled out twenty Galleons, offering them back to Professor Fig: "Professor, here's the money you gave me earlier as my 'allowance'."
"Keep it. You need it more than I do," Professor Fig gently pushed Ethan's hand back. "Besides, my salary as a professor isn't bad at all."
"Thank you, Professor." Ethan didn't argue further, quietly placing the money back into his pouch.
"One more thing," Professor Fig leaned closer to the goblin, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
"We're here to collect something from Vault Twelve."
"Vault Twelve?" The goblin adjusted his glasses, scrutinizing them both carefully. "Key?"
"Right here," Professor Fig replied, producing the key and handing it over. The goblin examined it closely for a moment.
"Everything seems in order. Follow me, please."
The goblin pressed a button behind the counter, then stepped down, leading the two of them to a rarely used door. Ethan noticed another goblin rush in from a side entrance, quickly assuming the vacant counter position.
Exiting the grand hall through the door, they reached a narrow, sloping stone passage illuminated by torches along its walls. At the bottom of the slope lay a set of tracks. The goblin gave a piercing whistle, and immediately a small cart came hurtling down the rails, skidding to a stop before them.
"Gentlemen, please." The goblin bowed politely.
They climbed into the passenger seats on the right side of the cart. Ethan noted the absence of any safety harness and quietly tightened his grip on the rails at either side.
"If you prefer to keep your hands, I'd recommend not sticking them out of the cart," the goblin said with a wicked chuckle, climbing into the driver's seat and pulling a lever. "Off we go!"
The cart shot off down the winding tracks, and Ethan quickly realized it was surprisingly stable. He gradually relaxed his grip, turning instead to study the vault doors that flashed by on either side of the tunnel.
"Sir, just how many vaults does Gringotts have?" Ethan asked curiously.
"Thousands upon thousands—uncountable. You'll see plenty just on our way to Vault Twelve," the goblin replied.
"We are now directly beneath the main lobby of Gringotts. The vaults we've just passed are among the newest constructed."
The cart plunged deeper into the tunnels, rattling noisily along the tracks as icy air rushed past Ethan's face. Despite the sensory bombardment, Ethan forced his eyes wide open, determined to see everything clearly.
"You'd best hold your breath," the goblin suddenly called out.
Ahead was a curtain of water—a waterfall cascading directly onto the tracks. Ethan and Professor Fig quickly ducked their heads, closing eyes and mouths tightly as they passed through the sudden deluge.
"That waterfall is enchanted to wash away all magical concealment—it's their anti-theft measure," Professor Fig explained, casting drying charms on both himself and Ethan.
"Oh, so you've encountered the Thief's Downfall before, Professor?"
"I've only heard of it," Fig replied modestly.
The cart sped through a junction, emerging suddenly into an enormous subterranean cavern.
At its bottom stretched an underground lake dotted with stalagmites rising from the water, connecting to massive stalactites hanging from the cavern roof.
Vault doors lined the walls of the cavern in countless rows, while other carts driven by goblins zipped along tracks crisscrossing the cavern's vast expanse.
"This entire area houses the lower vaults," the goblin explained.
"How much further down do we have to go?" Ethan called out loudly.
"Still a way yet," the goblin shouted back. "Gringotts has stood for over six centuries, and Vault Twelve dates back just as far. We're heading to one of the deepest sections now. Hold on tight."
They descended even deeper, picking up speed. Air turned colder and sharper with each turn. Eventually, the tracks leveled out slightly, and fewer vault doors appeared. Ahead, a grim-looking goblin dressed in uniform stood beside the tracks on a stone platform, signaling them to stop.
"Vault number?" the uniformed goblin demanded curtly.
"Vault Twelve," their goblin replied cheerfully. "Quite the special day today, isn't it?"
"Go on, then," the guard goblin grunted, waving them through.
Ethan noticed an odd glimmer coming from the goblin guard's armband. He leaned closer to Professor Fig, whispering urgently, "Professor, that goblin's armband—it was glowing."
"Glowing? Like the box and key we found earlier?"
"No. It glowed red, darker, and somehow made me feel uneasy."
"What was that?" their driver goblin asked, glancing back.
"Nothing—we were just remarking that guard seemed quite special," Professor Fig quickly covered.
"Oh, him. He guards the oldest areas of the bank. Hardly anyone ever goes down there anymore," the goblin said dismissively.
At last, the cart stopped before another narrow passage.
"We've arrived," the goblin announced, gesturing for them to exit.
"Finally," Ethan sighed, stepping out and stamping feeling back into his numb legs.
At the end of the corridor stood a massive vault door. The goblin approached it, inserting the key into a small hole. With a series of loud clicks, the vault mechanisms sprang to life. The door groaned in protest, emitting a puff of smoke as it slowly swung open.
"Vault Twelve," the goblin announced grandly.
"Thank you for your assistance," Professor Fig said appreciatively, stepping inside. "Stay close, Ethan."
Ethan followed closely, entering the vault. "Professor, what exactly are we looking for?"
"I'm honestly not sure. Excuse me, sir—" Professor Fig turned back toward the goblin outside.
"According to Vault Twelve's instructions, my job was simply to open the door for you... and then close it," the goblin said with a mischievous smirk, waving his finger cheerfully. Immediately, the heavy door swung shut with a resounding boom.
"Wait!" Professor Fig shouted in alarm, reaching out helplessly as the door sealed tightly shut.
From beyond the door came the goblin's voice, accompanied by the whirring sound of locks sliding into place:
"Good luck to you both."