Eric waited by a side entrance to the bank. The goblins didn't wish him to use the main doors for some reason. Walking about, he was led by one of their clerks, who outlined the work they wished done. It was actually fairly simple work – refinishing trim, repairing just a few shelves. At length, he found that he had to ask. "Excuse me, but this all is fairly simple maintenance. Since most of the rest of the bank looks very well kept, I expect that you've been doing this for some time. Why are you requesting my services?"

The goblin turned to him. "Many of Diagon Alley's merchants have taken advantage of your abilities. Are you saying we may not?"

Eric backed away slightly. "Not at all, noble sir! It's just that any work that I do will be a replica of your fine craftsmanship, rather than keeping with the original line of artisans. I would have expected you to wish to keep to the same caliber and school of workmanship. I have no problem doing the work if you wish me to, but it would be less costly for you to simply maintain things as you always have."

"The Master Clerk wishes to take advantage of your skills, and will pay generously." The goblin held out a small scroll for Eric to read. "If, however, you do not wish to take the work, that is your choice."

Eric read the scroll, having to keep himself from gasping. The goblins offered 500 galleons – far more than he would have anticipated. "Far be it from me to deny a customer something they desire. If it's my work that you wish, I'm more than happy to provide it."

"Excellent. You will be expected tomorrow at ten o-clock a.m. sharp." The clerk led him back out the door he came in.

As they returned to Eric's shop, Willy looked upward. "If the offer is as Master Eric says, we should be quite happy!"

Eric looked at the scroll again, then at his trustworthy assistant. "Yes, Willy, we should be very happy – but I'm not. Goblins are clever negotiators and the work won't take that long. We're looking at two to three weeks at most. This is far too much to offer. Come on." He led them back to the shop, but rather than entering their own door, he steered to the right and up a narrow flight of stairs to knock on the thick oak door that guarded the top.

The door creaked open to reveal the generous, welcoming face of Lymeon Peal. "Eric dear boy – so good to see you! Won't you come in?" Drawing the door wide, he gestured for both of his new guests to step into the upstairs of their building. "Clareone – our tenant has come up for a visit!"

"Well, Eric. This is an odd hour for you. I imagine you have some grave question for me." Mrs. Peal guided them both into their kitchen, where she suddenly found herself swatting hands with an elf in a battle to decide who lifts the teapot. "Really, Willy! May I serve my own guests?"

"Mistress Clareone has always been good to Willy, and Master Eric is troubled. Please talk to Master Eric while Willy serves tea." His great eyes looked up to Mrs. Peal in the most pleading way.

She sighed and made her way to sit down. "Oh, very well. There's no clearing this up with his kind, anyway. Now: what's your concern?" Eric held out the scroll for her to examine. She pondered it several minutes before looking up. "How much work needs to be done for this?"

"By my estimate, about a quarter of the work necessary to properly earn that fee. Furthermore, it can't be necessary. They've been maintaining their woodwork since long before I was born; they don't need a carpenter."

"Yes, you're quite right about that." She set the scroll aside and took Eric's hand. "My dear child, I fear that you've stumbled into a rather sticky situation. The goblins wouldn't hire you normally. Even if they were in the mood, they would have negotiated better. I'm afraid this has nothing to do with you. Tell me – when do they want you to work?"

"Tomorrow morning, Ten AM sharp."

She clucked slightly. "That settles it – it's a statement."

Eric's brow furrowed deeply. "Having shelves fixed is a statement?"

Taking a sip of tea, she explained. "Having Diagon Alley's favorite carpenter perform labor for goblins is. There are those who look down on them as inferior. It's rather a major matter that you, a wizard, are working for them."

"Is there a problem with that?"

"There are those who would take a dim view of your work, thinking that you were somehow weakening the position of wizards everywhere by treating goblins the same way that you would treat a witch or wizard."

Eric suddenly felt like he was sinking in a trap. "So, what do I do?"

She paused to take hold of his hand with both of hers. "You do the very best work you can possibly do. These aren't just paying customers, they're the Goblins of Gringotts. To anger them would cause more trouble for the rest of us than you can possibly imagine." She paused again, then continued with difficulty. "I want you to understand what I'm asking you to do. It is very likely that some people will give you a hard time for what you're going to do; but if you don't, we will all feel the consequences and they will be painful. I'm asking you to accept this commission and take the punishment you will receive, for the good of the Merchants around you and the wizarding community at large."

Eric was very worried. "Are they going to snap my wand?"

Mrs. Peal sighed. "I don't know, dear, though I doubt it'll be anything quite that dramatic. Things will be difficult, though. We'll do what we can to help you."

He nodded and smiled to himself. The commission from Gringotts would cover him for the year, and with the Quidditch World Cup so close this year, he wasn't planning on doing too much shop work anyway.