Rita watched the other patrons of Gringotts, each locked in their own private theatre. The purebreeds of her species had died out generations ago, but she listened to the colours and shapes of the minds around her, making a smug noise at the melodramatic roles they cast themselves in, their secret desires and most private needs. She was getting too old for this she knew. But what else did her talents extend to? She fixed the goblin with a glittering smile as she reached the counter and handed over another large sack of galleons, refusing to think about turning twenty.