First of all, I want to say the most importamt thing! I dedicate this story to Dessie (desertredwolf), who really helped me a lot writing this story! It's something completely different writing from a goblin's POV and for that you need a good idea. Thanks, Dessie! :D
Forum: Harry Potter's World
House: Ravenclaw
Class: Charms (wand movement)
Prompt: Circles and jabs can be part of many careers; however, the one you've been assigned is a hard one. Welcome to Gringotts Bank! Your task is to write about a bank teller! HAVE FUN!
Do you feel the *cackle* in the prompt? Yeah, I do as well...
Enjoy reading!
A Typical Day At Gringotts
"Bloody hell," the Goblin muttered as he snapped his fingers at the pile of coins on the heavy wooden table. Within an instant, the golden coins lifted off the surface and waited for further instructions.
It had taken him the last ten minutes – which was a lot – to sort the coins out again, to pile them into neat portions and to count them all over again. He had always been one of those goblins that were of the opinion that the art of financial management was something to be held in their race. It was something traditional that demanded a lot of skill, knowledge and perfection. Humans would never reach the level of skill that they needed in order to deal with finances, but his boss had been of a different opinion.
We need to give them a chance, Mogark, he had said. Let them have a look at what we are doing day after day and have been doing for centuries.
Mogark scoffed and snapped his hands once again. The Galleons gave a slight jerk due to his high emotions, but floated into the right direction nevertheless. I need to calm down, he thought, and took a deep, relaxing breath.
Having humans interfere with their business was disorienting enough, but having them actually have their hands mess everything up was just too preposterous!
He scowled at the blonde witch standing next to Griphook, and was trying to look determined, but failed miserably. She was a French girl, judging by her horrendous accent, and had problems understanding what she needed to do and why. Her manicured fingers would merely grab one or two coins and count them separately, when instead she could cast a simple measuring spell, combined with a weighing and a counting spell that had been taught for generations in the goblin community, and get the job done in less than ten seconds. No, she actually wanted to count them by hand. Ridiculous.
Mogark glared at Griphook, who was nodding approvingly. The girl had pulled her wispy hair back into a ponytail and was concentrating on separating documents into different piles. Again something that could be done within seconds if you only knew the right spell for it.
But of course he wouldn't dare to teach a human the spell! And he sincerely hoped no other goblin would either. Though looking at Griphook as he was talking to the witch, he wasn't entirely sure every bank teller thought the same.
Gringotts was an institution of might. For generations wizards and witches alike had come there to get a financial overview or management aid, which slowly but surely changed into a full-on financial management that everyone of the magical community would use. The richest of the rich, the most famous of the elite, were those that Gringotts had been given the privilege of calling its customers since the beginning. And ever since the very start of this institution, goblins had been the ones to run it.
Goblins were the only creatures in the entire world who didn't steal valuable things out of pure contempt and jealousy. Goblins were the only creatures in the entire world who were completely honest and trustworthy. Goblins were the only creatures in the entire world who knew what they were doing!
Mogark ground his teeth as he sent every filled coin box into the next room to be magically transported into the right vaults. He didn't understand why his boss had decided that it was the right thing to invite outsiders, non-goblins, into these holy halls to learn their rightful profession that was meant to stay within their race and their race only!
A loud cough caught his attention and he turned around to scowl at whoever dared to interrupt his thoughts. Being sure that he was about to deal with that good-for-nothing apprentice Bonemaw, who was as incapable as that French girl, he had his glare perfectly in place. Upon seeing a not too impressed looking elderly witch, though, he gulped and bowed as deep as his position allowed him.
"I offer you my apologies, Ma'am," the goblin said and straightened back up again. The witch raised an annoyed black eyebrow. Her dark eyes showed no emotions. "I was in the world of my own thoughts and still thinking about a stressful situation that requires my attention. How can I possibly help you?"
He hated being so overly polite to magical folk if they thought themselves better as the non-human races. This particular specimen definitely was one of them. Her haughty look only darkened as Mogark hurriedly climbed up his assigned chair and rested his hands on top of the table's surface.
After a couple of silent seconds, the witch deemed it appropriate to say what she wanted, much to the goblin's annoyance.
"My vault," she said with a quiet, yet ice cold voice. "I want to visit my vault."
"Do you have your key on you, Ma'am?" Mogark asked as politely as possible and opened his hand. His long fingers uncurled from the tight fist he had formed with his intertwined hands and waited to be presented with the key, yet the witch didn't move.
"You can only enter your vault if you present the key, Ma'am," the slightly annoyed goblin said and tried not to grind his teeth too much. His mother had always said that they might get rounder and less intimidating that way.
"You very well know who I am," was everything the disgustingly conceited person said and pointedly looked into another direction.
His eyes narrowed dangerously as he tried to calm his breathing. "In that case," he said in a tone as unforgiving as hers, "I'll have to call the bank manager. I will be right back."
Mogark made to stand up. He had already swung his chair to the side, as none other than that horribly annoying blonde witch appeared out of nowhere.
"Can I help you?" he couldn't stop himself asking, not giving a flying coin about the way his customer gasped at his behaviour.
The girl's lips tightened slightly as a genuine looking smile lightened up her face. The goblin took a mental step back. He had to admit that acting polite in front of rude customers was a skill not everyone was able to call his own, but this girl was definitely one of those fair few.
She's still human, he had to remind himself and managed to put his scowl back onto his face.
"I was merely wondering if I could help lighten up the situation," she said in a heavy French accent he did not under any circumstances like at all. He was once again reminded how much he disliked this human.
"Has Griphook not told you our policy correctly, Miss?" His question was laced with as much sarcasm as he could manage. He watched the pale and – for humans probably – pretty face go red. "I thought so."
The customer glared at both the goblin and the witch, and cleared her throat threateningly.
"I will be right back, Ma'am," Mogark hurried to say and with a last glare towards the French girl, he hopped off of the high reception chair. "I will be right back."
"What is the matter of this?" he hissed violently as he rushed past Griphook's table. The documents the human had put in order were now floating in the air, ready to take off into different directions. He was at least using a perfectly acceptable spell for this kind of work! Unlike that human girl!
Griphook flinched slightly and looked from Mogark to Fleur, who was trying to get a response from the impolite witch, and back to the fuming goblin. "What do you mean, Moga-?"
"What do I mean?" His voice was so low that only the confused and slightly worried Griphook could hear him. "Control your human a bit more, will you?! She just pulled the Gringotts name through the mud and you just sit here and look at bloody documents!"
"Those documents are importa-"
"I don't care whether they are important or being used as toilet paper," Mogark exploded and jabbed a trembling elongated finger into the poor goblin's face. "If your pet dances out of line one more time, I will have the boss-"
"What will you have me do, Mogark?" a deep and powerful voice said, causing the surrounding goblins to sink into themselves. "Do say."
"Nothing, boss," Mogark mumbled and glared at Griphook, who merely smiled innocently at both him and the boss. "I actually wanted to talk to you, sir. You see, we have a problematic customer..."
He took hold of the bank manager's hand and started to gently pull him into the right direction, but not without turning around one last time to throw a particularly nasty glare at poor Griphook.
"What was that about?" the melodic voice of Fleur Delacour asked, as she once again joined him at the table. Her intelligent eyes were narrowed slightly as she watched the scene fold out in front of her.
"Nothing to worry about," Griphook said and pointed to the chair next to his. "Please, Miss, do take a seat. Your last try at the spell was very good, but it didn't look as fluent and easy-going as I'd like it to be. Please," he snapped his long fingers and the piles of parchment fell back onto the chair.
"Try again."
I hope you liked this somewhat different story!
Please leave a comment and tell me what you think! I always love reading and answering them!
Until next time - see ya!
