Death Eater's Daughter-Book 1

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After more chatting, eating, and laughing, it was already noon and we had to get shopping done. Gazing at the simplistic beauty of Diagon Alley, I laughed with Fred and George. They explained their troublemaker personalities, which I had already detected within moments of our first conversation in the Leaky Cauldron.

 “We specialize in detentions and future planning for the sacking of Argus Filch, Hogwarts caretaker.” Fred explained as we walked. This made me laugh. But then again, I hadn’t stopped laughing since the Butterbeers arrived at our table.

“Impressive, I never thought you could ‘specialize’ in detentions,” I replied, repressing my giggles.

“We didn’t either,” George stated.

“Here we are, at Gringotts,” Mrs. Weasley shrilled from behind us. I turned to George, the query already on my tongue, but he beat me to the answer before I could even speak.

“Gringotts is the wizard bank,” he said, pointing to the white building in front of us. It seemed ancient, the roman columns hunched over the doorway, protecting its precious insides. It was only two stories high, but it still loomed hauntingly over the street. The French doors swung open within seconds of our approach, and we entered a large room, reminiscent of a ballroom. Desks encircled the room, and marble floors, walls, and ceilings added extra grandeur. A chandelier hung over us, with several tiers of crystals and candles, shedding beauteous light.

Behind the desks were creatures with long ears-and very stern looking creatures, I might add. They stared intently at papers in front of them, once and while scribbled something, glanced up, and returned their attention to their parchment. It seemed they did it unison.

“Goblins. Ruddy things, always up to something,” Fred whispered in my ear.

“And you’re not?” I asked, feeling very logical.

“Good point.”

All of us crowded around one of the desks, waiting patiently for the annoyed looking goblin to notice that we needed assistance. After about a minute, the goblin peered upward in unison with all the others and said very quietly, yet still very gruffly, “Grillinger at your service.”

“We’d like to make a transaction, from the Weasley vault. Also, Julianna needs to access her vault, but she’s an orphan and doesn’t have her key,” Mrs. Weasley explained calmly to Grillinger, who appeared to have a small attention span; who already began to scan the paper in front of him instead of Mrs. Weasley.

After a moment, he seemed to have registered all the information (though he barely listened) and held out his hand. “The Weasley key?”

Mrs. Weasley pulled a rusty key out of her pocket and handed it to Grillinger. He made a beckoning motion with his bony, pale finger. Hesitantly, we all followed. He led us to the very back of the room, were we went through a door I hadn’t noticed when I entered.

The door hid a grand cavern, made of auburn stone. Train tracks wound all around it, and I could tell this was only a small section of the cave. Grillinger gestured for us to get in a sort of train car. It was large, but only large enough to hold about ten people. It was open, like a dune buggy, but it had a big headlight on the front, similar to a mining car.

The moment we had all settled into the car, it zoomed off into the depths of the cavern. Blurrily, I was able to make out thousands of doors lining the walls-which must be the vaults. I could faintly hear the creaking and moaning of the car. We were pushing its limits. Sparks flew from the wheels, from the intense friction of the tracks to the metal wheels.