Chapter Two: Gringott's

The next day, Beth got up early to pack a lunch and left on her bike shortly after dawn. The hills of Dorset were thick with rich, green summer foliage, and she found herself slowing down frequently to take a closer look at the scenery. She'd lived in England for the past three years, but she was still taken by the beauty of the countryside and the rich history that stretched for centuries more than her hometown in the United States.

About an hour later, she braked to a halt in front of a small wooden cottage. Around the back was a large paddock where a large animal, part eagle and part equine, romped with two large horses and a griffon. As she approached the cottage, a tough-looking and very old woman stepped from the door and hurried forward to embrace her.

"Bethy, how are you? It's been so long since we've seen you -- Newt was just saying the other day, 'I wonder what that Parson girl is up to' -- calling you the Parson girl, as if he's too old to remember your name. Come in!" She guided Beth up to the porch. The animals in the paddock stopped frolicking to watch curiously.

"I'm great, Mrs. Scamander. It's good to see you!"'

A series of bumping and scraping sounded from an upstairs room. "Who is it?" a cranky male voice demanded from inside.

"Newt honey, it's Bethy," Mrs. Scamander called back patiently. "Down, Mauler," she said to the Kneazle pawing at Beth's leg. "Come in, dear. How's your father?"

Beth followed Mrs. Scamander into a large kitchen which smelled strongly of spices. On a fireplace, a copper cauldron bubbled fiercely. Two more Kneazles lounged about the kitchen, looking unimpressed.

"Dad's fine," Beth answered, sitting at the kitchen table. "He's forgetful these days, you know, but he gets around, and I always manage to find his keys again."

"Poor man," Mrs. Scamander worried, tapping her wand on the table. Two big steins sprouted from the wood and grew handles. "He should have a wife to help him get about. Shame ..." She pursed her lips as if she wanted to say more. Another tap of the wand, and the mugs filled with steaming tea. "Sugar?"

Beth nodded. A sugar bowl grew from the kitchen table and sugar cubes blossomed within it like square carnations.

Mrs. Scamander sat down across from Beth and delicately plopped two sugar cubes into her tea. "Awful weather lately, isn't it? Newt's been beside himself. You know how he is when he feels cooped up!" She chuckled maternally. "Never a dull moment though. He's revising his book again -- fifty-second edition. Imagine doing it again. I said, 'Newt, you're almost a hundred, it's time to enjoy your retirement!' He just snorted, you know how he does. Irritating man," she said fondly. "Milly! Get away from that cauldron!"

Milly the Kneazle sauntered away from the fireplace, flicking her lion's tail coolly.

"I got my letter from Hogwarts," Beth said, taking a sip of her tea. "I need to go into London to pick up my things. Can I use your Floo?"

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Scamander assured her. "Any time at all. It must be difficult, living like a Muggle for the summertimes."

Beth shook her head. "Not too different. I always lived like that back home. I just get used to having magic around, at school. I'm glad you live nearby," she ventured hesitantly.

Mrs. Scamander beamed. "And we're glad you take the time to visit a few old fools like us. Why, if it weren't for you and the Kneazles, I'd have no one to fuss over except Newt. Right, dear?"

An ancient man shuffled into the kitchen. He wore wrinkled plaid robes and a tall pointed hat that drooped over his bald forehead. "You fuss over me anyway," he grumbled. "How's a man supposed to get any work done with you women yammering away out here? Might as well join you." He pulled up a chair and rapped the table, producing his own mug of tea. "Chattering lasses, that's all you are."

"What's that new animal you've got?" Beth asked, tea in hand. "The one like a horse with an eagle head?"

Mr. Scamander's demeanor brightened considerably. "Just got him," he said proudly. "Noble, isn't he? He's a hippogriff. The hippogriff is native to Europe, though now found worldwide. It has the head of a giant eagle, and the body of a horse. It can be tamed, though this should be attempted only be experts --"

"You're quoting yourself, dear."

Mr. Scamander scowled. "Who's the writer here, me or you?"

"I was only saying, dear."

Still looking put out, Mr. Scamander cleared his throat and started again. "The Hippogriff burrows for insects but will also eat birds and small mammals." Beth made a face. "Let's see, I'm revising this part for the next edition -- Breeding Hippogriffs are known to ... no, no... Breeding Hippogriffs build nests upon the ground. Then they -- no, no, that's awkward --"

Beth laughed. Being with the Scamanders was like having a real pair of grandparents, something she'd never actually experienced. She'd been lucky that her father was comfortable enough with magic to live near witches and wizards even when he wasn't one. Since she moved to Dorset, the Scamanders had been her link to the wizarding world, and eased her entry into Hogwarts almost immeasurably.

"Stop using the poor girl as an editor, Newt, she's got to be on her way. Shopping to do, you know." Mrs. Scamander led Beth over to their fireplace and pulled a handful of powder from a large urn on the mantlepiece. "Have a good time in Diagon Alley, dear. Don't you go into Knockturn Alley --"

"--It's full of shifty folk," Beth finished with a grin. Mrs. Scamander issued this warning every time she sent Beth off to London.

"Don't get smart, missy, it's true as ever." Mrs. Scamander smiled fondly. "Oh, can you pick up a few quills for Newt? He goes through them so fast --"

"--writing my fingers off --" Mr. Scamander called from the table.

"Don't listen to him, he breaks them when he gets frustrated," Mrs. Scamander confided. "And he only uses goose quills. Superstitious. Well," she finished, giving Beth a final hug, "Off you go!" She tossed the powder into the fireplace, and a green cloud whirled above the logs. Beth kissed her cheek goodbye and stepped in.

She felt as if she was flying downhill on jet-powered roller skates. On either side, doors and openings blurred past. She struggled to keep her balance. Just as she felt like she would faint from the speed, she saw the exit for Diagon Alley on the left, and threw herself through the opening just in time.

Beth stumbled to her feet. All around her, men and women in robes and tall hats hurried down the cobblestone street. Little shops lined either side of the road, some barely wider than their doorframe, some crooked, some glimmering with decorations that on closer inspection turned out to be live fairies.

The first thing to do in Diagon Alley was change Muggle money into wizard currency: gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and copper Knuts. Beth headed down the road toward Gringott's, the bank run by goblins. Since quite a few wizards came from Muggle households, and a handful of them even dealt with Muggle items regularly, Gringott's was equipped to convert Muggle pounds based on the current exchange rate. How they ever determined an exchange rate was a mystery to Beth, but she always felt as if she got a good deal out of it.

Gringott's loomed over the rest of the street. At the front, a pair of goblin guards leered as she went by. The exchange station was around one corner, so she curved into a narrow cobbled alleyway and started down the close-quartered path.

A few yards before her, a figure materialized through one of the Gringott's walls and took off running in Beth's direction. It was black-cloaked, and the face was hidden. Beth backed away and pressed herself against the wall. She had a brief terrified impression of a scraggly person with a very large head. The figure vaulted past Beth, giving her a hard shove as it passed. It whirled back around, cloak swirling, and pointed a wand at Beth's head. He cried once, "Lethe Expungis!"

Beth threw herself to the ground and covered her head with her hands. She heard something zing past her and bounce off the walls like a pinball. Behind her, she heard someone issue a heavy grunt. The figure in black turned and sprinted away, vanishing into thin air a few paces later.

A veritable horde of grunting goblins charged past Beth, narrowly missing trampling her to death. She stood up, shaking, and tried to collect what she had seen. A goblin sat on the ground near her feet, his eyes unfocused, with a stupid look on his already brutish face. As Beth gaped around, wondering what had happened and why she was in the middle of it, a pair of wizards came hurrying around the corner.

The two wizards, clutching legal pads and thin crow-feather quills, scurried to the staring goblin and looked him over. "Memory wipe," one of them said. "He's forgotten he even exists."

"Uurgh?" the goblin inquired.

One of the wizards nodded curtly. Looking around, he noticed Beth as if for the first time. "You! Did you see what happened here?"

Beth nodded dumbly.

Both of the hurried-looking wizards became very excited. "I'll bet that memory charm was for you, then!" the first one said cheerfully. "Dodged it, did you?"

Beth nodded again.

"Say, do you mind coming with us?" interjected the first, who looked to be the younger of the two. "We'll need to see your testimony."

See? Beth wondered, but before she knew what she was doing, she had followed the pair into Gringotts and been seated at one of the low-slung chairs in the lobby.

"We need to check what you saw happen," the second one explained. He was short and red-faced, with a thin mustache that curled on the ends. "May we perform a Recurrus spell? You won't be harmed at all. It'll allow us to see what went on. Then you'll be let go."

"Er -- all right," said Beth. She still felt confused and a little shaken.

The two men laid a broad white parchment on the table before her. Beth stared down at it. Was she going to have to write down everything she'd seen? Draw it?

The younger man laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "That's right, just keep looking at the parchment," he said soothingly. "Relax. It'll only take a moment." He laid his wand to her temple and said calmly, "Recurrus."

The parchment before Beth's face began to swim with color. Slowly, foggy shapes came together, half-formed and wavering as if in a dream. She gazed at the swirling hues. Among them, Mrs. Scamander's face came into focus, and the scene began to form around her. A whirl of green marked her trip through the Floo, each second becoming crisper and sharper, until finally she saw Gringott's as clearly as if she were standing before it.

On the parchment, the exchange station drew near. The dark figure appeared, charged, and raised his wand again in perfect detail. Then the picture crashed to the ground; the dark figure dashed away; the picture raised and righted, and two hurried wizards came into view.

The younger wizard tapped Beth's forehead again, and the picture vanished. She felt a jolt, as if she had just been startled out of a dream The wizard with the mustache rolled up the parchment. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said stiffly, giving Beth a little bow. The young one patted her shoulder again.

"We can use this to help catch that man," he explained. "He was attempting to rob the bank. Lucky the vault he broke into was already empty." He smiled, and Beth felt suddenly like a small child. "Also lucky you dove when you did, otherwise your mind would have been swept clean. Poor goblin," he added. "I'd better go see to him. Have a good day, miss." Without another word, the wizard darted out of Gringott's.

Beth swallowed and looked around. She had never been inside Gringott's; now she saw that she wasn't missing anything. The goblin guards at the door were nothing compared to the hawkish tellers, and the gray stone walls were possibly even more dismal inside than out.

Well, attempted robbery or no, there was still business to be done. She stood up, took a deep breath, and went to the tellers to see if one of them could supply her with Galleons and Sickles.