As he approached Gringotts, Severus watched the goblin guard at the entrance with a smile. The goblin started rubbing his hands anxiously the moment he saw him. After all, who else would know how rich Severus was now? And the shop that brought in tens of thousands of Galleons a month was not exactly a secret to them.
"Welcome, Mr. Prince. Shall I escort you?" the guard greeted him politely, almost bowing at his feet.
"Thank you, but no need," Severus chuckled, and the goblin nodded like a bobblehead before hurrying to open the door for him.
"Of course, of course, please come in," he said, completely ignoring Severus's tone. But the moment Severus passed through and the door shut, the goblin's face twisted. He spat irritably outside the bank's boundary, drawing annoyed looks from passing witches and wizards, and turned away. "Pathetic little humans." He took one step to the left, slipped on his own spit, which had somehow ended up right under his foot, and smashed his big nose against the stone floor.
Inside the huge hall, Severus headed calmly toward the goblin seated at the far end, catching a storm of glances from the employees. Displeasure and hostility were there, of course, but so was anticipation.
When he finally stopped at the high desk, he lifted his gaze to the chief goblin behind it.
"I came to ask about the Prince account that is currently frozen." The goblin raised an irritated look at Severus, opened a large ledger, and began turning pages at a slow, deliberate pace. At last he stopped, then looked up again.
"The previous head of the Prince family froze the account, fearing trouble. He set a new condition: if, within seven years, an heir from his daughter's side does not appear here, all the Galleons will belong to our Bank," the goblin said lazily, watching for Severus's reaction.
"And as I understand it, you did not tell Alan Prince about this condition?"
"That was another condition set by his father."
"I see." Severus stroked his chin thoughtfully, then looked back at the bank clerk. "So I can go to the Prince vault right now and take everything from there?"
The goblin only grinned and shook his head.
"No. Until you officially become head of the family and turn twenty-one, you cannot take more than three hundred Galleons a month. That condition was set by your grandfather as well."
"I am sure you pushed him into that, saying that at my age I might waste everything on nonsense. Fine, I will agree with you. It is the right decision. If some Sirius Black were in my place, he would have squandered it all in a year."
"But since you are a serious young man, and you know how to handle money, we could, of course, make concessions," the goblin drawled with a professional smile, adjusting his glasses.
"You want me to start storing my hard-earned Galleons in your bank again?" Severus asked calmly. With the same polite smile, he added, "I am sure you also know about our contract with the Ministry and how much I earned. Am I right?"
"What are you saying? How could we possibly know such information?" The tone made it clear that they knew everything.
"I see. I do not mind, but on three conditions, and I want to discuss them with the head of Gringotts. Is that possible?"
The goblin frowned slightly but still nodded. He called another goblin over and whispered something. The second one ran off, and five minutes later he returned with a sheet of paper in hand.
The clerk skimmed it quickly, then grunted and climbed down the small ladder.
"Follow me. The chief goblin is ready to meet with you." Severus gave him a half-smile from head to toe, and the goblin snorted in irritation.
"Of course."
The head of Gringotts had his office nearby, one floor down, between the main hall and the vaults. From Griphook's earlier explanations, Severus understood the structure: one head of the bank, with two votes, and three elders opposing him, the oldest and wisest goblins, advisers of a sort. They could challenge the head's decision at any moment if it seemed wrong or if it threatened losses.
The entrance to the office was marked by a massive steel door, nearly two metres tall, decorated with gold and precious crystals. Four goblins stood in front of it, and along the corridor there were twenty more, every five metres, in full gear with spears in hand.
"Leave your wand here," the largest of them, with an eyepatch and a scar running across half his face, said grimly.
"And if you plan to kill me in there?" Severus protested with very sincere surprise. Still, he put on a show of reluctant agreement and nodded. "Can I take a sword for safety?"
"A sword?" The guards traded mocking smiles. In the magical world, wizard and sword were practically opposites. How could a weak human wizard use a sword?
They were all thinking it, and even the commander, marked by a red cloak and a plume on his helmet, smirked.
"You can take it."
"Thank you." In the next moment they froze in shock. An almost metre-long black sword appeared at Severus's belt, fastened to a leather strap. Then he drew his wand and handed it to one of them. "Let us go in. Now I feel more or less safe."
The same goblin finally recovered, snorted contemptuously, and pressed his hand to the door while speaking in his language. A few seconds later the door began to open.
Double protection. Even if a traitor appeared and knew the password, he still could not open the door without permission from inside. Smarter than certain Salazars who never even thought to build a sliver of self-awareness into a door or set it to open from his own portrait. At last the door opened fully, and Severus's eyes landed on the office.
It was a small room, about seventy square metres, furnished with taste. Statues of goblins holding jugs of gold stood in the corners. Cabinets of enchanted wood lined the walls, packed with folders and manuscripts. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. There was even a window, and from the angle Severus understood where the view was coming from: the eyes of the dragon statues on Gringotts.
A long table stood in the centre. At its head, on a red chair, sat a goblin so old it looked as if a light breeze could carry him away. Three more elders sat beside him, just as ancient but still vigorous.
Griphook bowed and left the office. Only four guards remained, led by the commander. He stood to the right of the table, another guard stood on the left, and two more stayed on either side of Severus.
"You wanted to meet with me. I am listening attentively," the chief said in a sluggish, slightly monotone voice. He studied Severus with interest, then lowered his gaze to the sword.
"I am ready to cooperate with you again. At the moment I have about six hundred thousand Galleons, and in two weeks another half million should arrive. Is that worthy of your attention?" Severus asked with a smile. The goblins did not look surprised. They had already calculated everything without him, including future profits, because the goblin intelligence network watched these things closely.
"Ho-ho-ho, of course. But you did not come to us only because of that?"
"No. I have three conditions, and then I will continue using your services."
The four exchanged glances. When the three elders nodded, the chief raised his eyes to the human again.
"We are listening attentively."
"First, I want to order leather armour with metal inserts from your masters. I will provide the blueprints and pay for all the work."
"We have not dealt with such things since that pathetic little human named Godric Gryffindor stole the sword created by our King," one of the elders said irritably.
"Really? You understand what profit you can get if you invest my Galleons correctly. And we are not talking about a hundred thousand, and I will not demand interest on this." At those words the three elders exchanged looks, and the old chief frowned.
"What is your second condition?"
"Nothing special. Allow me to look inside three vaults: the Blacks, the Lestranges, and the Malfoys. I need to check something."
"No!" Another elder, thick-browed, slammed a fist on the table. "We cannot allow this! If it gets out, we will lose all client trust!"
"And the third condition?" the chief asked calmly, ignoring his colleague.
"The third condition? I do not even know yet. I want to save it for later. And I am also planning to put two more potions up for sale soon, ones that will bring no less profit." Severus grinned at their frowning faces. The old ones understood that the four-plus million they had calculated for a year could easily become six, and with proper investments they could earn several more million a year. And all those Galleons would belong only to them. It was far too sweet an offer for goblins who adored gold.
"For three years, you will not make expensive purchases, and you will allow us to manage the money from your account as we see fit. Even if, by some miracle, we lose Galleons, it will not affect your account. We will add our own," the three elders smirked.
"No problem. I have nothing to spend them on anyway. But then I will require your help building a house, and if I need any materials, you will help me find them. With your connections, that should not be difficult. In return, I am ready to sign a blood contract that I will not blab about or record the second condition in any way. Of course, we will also do a mutual contract for all three conditions. What do you say?"
"All right, let us discuss this," the chief said, nodding thoughtfully. The three elders agreed.
"No problem. How about tomorrow morning? Will that be enough time for you?"
"Quite."
"Then until tomorrow, Mr..."
"Just Gruhagakh."
"Yes, Gruhagakh. Have a good evening."
After saying goodbye, accompanied by four goblin guards, Severus left the office and headed back toward the shop.
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