4

The woman left Gringotts with a small smile on her face. Of course, no-one could see it, as her head was once again covered by the hood. Goblins were considered to be cunning and unfriendly creatures, and while that was exactly how they looked on the outside, she knew better. They were different just like humans, some were good, some were bad. Wizards never trusted them completely. People knew that goblins were the best when it came to finances, but other than that the little creatures were looked upon with distrust. The goblins never tried to destroy this stereotype. Quite the contrary, they seemed to do everything to keep it up. They were quite comfortable with the way their relations with humans were organized – very formal and chilly. The mysterious woman smiled again. She was probably the only human, except maybe Dumbledore, who managed to get past the mask the goblins were wearing and to befriend some of them.

Kerum. The head goblin of Gringotts. She had met him when she was twelve. Many goblins were killed back then. Someone evil and elusive was haunting them. The goblins were scared. Kerum and his family were on the run from the danger. Destiny brought them to her house. She accidentally found nine terrified and confused little creatures in the basement and did everything to help them. They stayed in her house for a month, and while they did the girl and the nine goblins became close friends. Kerum called her Flos Aureus – Golden Flower. She knew she could trust Kerum with her life. He would never betray her.

Kerum transferred the money from her account in Geldmacht Bank in Switzerland. It was a good thing she opened that account sixteen years ago. Back then she wasn't sure why she did it. Probably it was intuition.

Lost in thoughts she almost missed the shop she was going to. Ollivander's wand shop hadn't changed a bit during the last fifteen years. The woman opened the door and entered the little room. The owner of the shop wasn't anywhere in sight. She lifted her right hand intending to ring the bell that was lying on the counter, but before she could complete the action, the shelves behind the counter began to shake. Her hand stilled above the little iron bell.

The boxes with wands were falling from the shaking shelves. The noise finally attracted Mr. Ollivander's attention and he rushed from the ancillary room to the one, where the disaster was taking place. He saw a strange person near the counter and proceeded to walk between the shelves toward the front of the shop. He hasn't made two full steps, when a box flew out from the depth of the highest shelf on the right. The box swiftly made it's way through the air to the person near the counter and landed in their hand. The shelves stopped shaking. Mr. Ollivander looked at the strange visitor in shock and awe.

The woman looked at the box she was now holding. There was nothing exceptional about it. She opened it. Inside was a black wand. She carefully took it out of the box and immediately felt a bond between herself and this wooden stick. She turned the wand in her fingers and noticed that it wasn't completely black. It had traces of dark burgundy on it. Once she looked closer she realized that those traces of burgundy were magic symbols that spiraled around the wand. They were symbols of faith and forgiveness, wisdom and courage, power and love and sacrifice. The wand glistened as if it was varnished. It was simply beautiful. The woman took out her purse.

"What is the price of this wand?"

Mr. Ollivander, who hadn't moved a bit all the while she was examining the wand, finally came closer to the counter.

"This wand is not for sale, lady."

"I am sure we'll be able to make a suitable deal…"

"Ohh… You don't understand. I will not sell you this wand. It is yours for free."

He paused and shifted his gaze from the wooden stick to her head, waiting for the mysterious woman to look at him. Her head, however, remained bowed and her face hidden by the hood. After a moment he looked at the magical object in her hands and continued.

"This wand was created by Merlin the Greatest himself. Centuries ago he gave it to one of my ancestors who was a wand maker like myself. Merlin asked him to keep it until the wand finds it's true owner. It was passed from generation to generation and today…today I think…it found it's owner. Take it. It is yours."

The woman nodded her head a little in silent gratitude, slid her new wand inside her robes and left the shop. Mr. Olivander looked at her retreat, wondering who his visitor was and what it was that was so familiar about her.