Callidora Nott has always known exactly what is expected of her.
As the daughter of one of Britain's oldest pure-blood families, her future has already been carefully planned; alliances, power, and a life shaped by tradition she never chose. At home...
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Calli's first stop was Gringotts.
She didn't linger in the main hall. Didn't look at the towering marble or the long line of witches and wizards waiting to be served. She went straight to the desk of Head Goblin, gave her name, and within minutes he was leading her away.
Down.
Deeper than most were ever taken.
The cart ride was fast, sharp turns and steep drops, wind cutting against her face as the tracks twisted through the dark. Calli barely registered it. Her focus stayed steady, controlled, her mind already moving ahead.
They stopped at last in a quieter passage, the air cooler, heavier. The vault doors here were larger. Older. More protected.
The goblin stepped forward and pressed his palm flat against the metal. There was a faint shift of magic recognizing magic. Then he stepped aside.
Calli moved forward.
Where a keyhole should have been, there was nothing.
She lifted her hand and traced her finger along the smooth surface anyway, following the invisible outline she knew was there. The magic responded immediately, cool against her skin, then a click.
The door opened.
Only Nott blood could access it.
She hadn't been here in years.
Not properly.
Her father had never needed to bring her. A small bag of coins left on her desk had always been enough for school supplies, enough to keep her from asking.
Calli stepped inside.
And stopped.
It was vast.
Gold stacked in precise columns. Shelves lined with objects she didn't immediately recognize; artifacts, heirlooms, things that carried history whether she wanted them to or not. The air felt still, untouched, like time didn't move the same way here.
She had forgotten.
Or maybe she had never really known.
The goblin remained outside.
Waiting.
Not watching.
Calli exhaled slowly and moved forward, pulling a charmed velvet bag from inside her sleeve. It expanded the moment she opened it, ready to hold far more than it should.
She began filling it.
Coins first.
Measured.
Controlled.
Then she didn't stop.
Handful after handful, the quiet clink of gold breaking the silence as it disappeared into the bag. More than she needed. Far more.
