A/N: Thank you for the reviews last chapter. I will keep going. I also made some cover art, though I'm not sure it will help or even show up. fanfiction net is really odd about coverart. Please review.

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Chapter 4

Banking on Hatred

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Laura stood on the grand steps of Gringotts, her skirts swirling around her heels in the afternoon breeze. She bit her lip and craned back her head to look up at the imposing building.

There were hundreds of other places she'd rather be.

Dolores' track record with the goblins was lower than low. She was, to put it lightly, incredibly racist. She was responsible for a lot of injustice being brushed under the rug. Not a single interaction from Dolores' memories was the least bit reassuring. She was a terror- all sugar and venom, smiles and fangs.

Walk a mile in her shoes? Didn't make a difference. Even with her memories, Laura found it impossible to find anything redeeming about the woman.

And now she had to deal with the consequences.

She steeled herself and marched past the goblin guarding the doors, her fists clenched at her sides. It- he- sneered at her, eyes glittering with barely concealed malice. Laura ignored it. She was going to have to handle this one way or another. She just had to decide if she was going to keep up the ruse here, too, or not…

As she walked into the small entrance hall that led to the rest of the bank, her eyes settled on the silver doors flanked by two more goblin guards. This time her eyes settled on the engraved words that echoed through both pairs of memories.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

The words had different connotations for the pair of them. Dolores had scoffed, reading them as a child, accompanied by her father and slip of a mother. Her eyes had shone with greed even then, and she displayed an air of superiority over the goblins who coolly glared back.

Laura had never been here, but she remembered the words. Tucked away in the corner of her middle school library, reading the story of a sad little boy who discovered magic and adventure. Watching the same event by proxy of a slightly fuzzy television at her grandparents house, and marveling at the odd little men with pointy ears.

She looked at them now, noting absently that the movies had not done the goblins justice in any sense of the term.

One of them grunted for her to move along, and Laura stepped through the doors with a quick stride.

The vast marble hall within threatened to take her breath away. It was incredibly imposing and spoke of wealth beyond wealth. Large counters stretched along its length and there were hundreds of goblins behind them, standing or sitting on tall stools, dealing with wizards and witches in meandering lines.

It seemed that everyone who just got off work had business at the bank.

Laura went over and got in line, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. She was fairly certain she knew how this was going to go and she didn't feel prepared to circumvent the inevitable.

I may as well act like I normally would, and forget Dolores. Nothing will change if I keep trying to emulate her. It makes me feel gross, anyway….

But Laura knew what to expect if she acted like Dolores. People became unpredictable when she acted like herself, because they thought she was planning something. That's why she preferred people who didn't know her.

But the goblins?

They knew Umbridge.

Before she could even open her mouth to address the teller, he growled at her. Through a deep guttural noise that made her blood rush in her ears he informed her that Ragbin would take her to vault 334. He turned and hopped down from the stool, strutting away from her and shaking off his hands as if releasing pent up anger.

Laura paled considerably. She remembered Ragbin, and she knew for a fact he remembered her.

Before she could reconsider a retreat, the head of a wizened old goblin came into view. He scowled up at her through cloudy lenses and grumbled under his breath, jerking his head to indicate she should follow him. Laura hurriedly fell into step behind him as he led her down into the vaults. He had short legs but moved incredibly quickly, and Laura struggled to keep up.

"Get in." Ragbin said, flippantly waving at the cart and he himself settled into it. Laura timidly lowered herself on the seat and gripped the sides tightly. He hardly waited for her to be settled before releasing the cart's brakes, and they went whizzing at breakneck speeds through the cathedral-like corridors. Laura had always enjoyed roller coasters, and under different circumstances would have enjoyed the trip. However, Ragbin seemed to find vindictive joy in taking the corners as sharply as possible, jolting Laura around violently with each turn, and going at a sickening pace. Thankfully for Laura, it was a rather short trip, and she knew he'd still be driving safely enough to not hurt himself.

Hypothetically, anyway.

"Thank you." Laura said breathlessly as she stepped out in front of her family vault. Ragbin spit onto the tracks, glaring at her as she let herself inside with her key.

I really hope he doesn't lock me in here. I'm lucky they've not attempted murder for what she did.

Yet.

The vault was modest, to say the least. The Umbridge family had always been fairly well off, but by Wizarding standards they were upper-middle class at most. The galleons, sickles, and knuts were stored in various trunks on shelves that lined the room. Family heirlooms occupied the middle of the vault, tables laden with baubles and jewelry that really needed to be cleaned. Laura ignored this and collected an array of coins to deposit into her purse. She didn't have any muggle money in the vault, so she'd still have to get it exchanged.

She meandered toward the center of the room to look at the heirlooms. She had plenty of jewelry already, but a couple of the pieces were interesting to look at, and Dolores had questionable taste. She gravitated towards the emerald jewels in a silver collar. It glittered prettily in the light, and she thought it would match her robes. She picked it up and observed it more closely.

She was stalling, of course. There was no reason to stop, looking at old jewels of all things. But an uneasy feeling was wound tightly in her gut.

Just a minute to collect myself, that's all. Just a small distraction.

She clasped the jewelry around her neck, as though that had been her intention all along. She took a deep breath and looked at the other piles around her. The rest of the jewelry didn't really call her, but a stack of thick books caught her eye. She collected a few that looked interesting and tucked them into her bottomless purse.

After a moment of awkwardly stalling, she walked back out into the cavern. Ragbin was perched on the side of the cart, arms crossed and scowling darkly in her direction. He turned away from her without a word as she approached, and settled himself back in the cart with a huff.

The ride back was more subdued. Riding uphill made the cart work a tad harder with whatever magic propelled it, so it couldn't careen at the same breakneck speed. Ragbin for his part mostly ignored her, but Laura could feel his simmering rage.

She didn't blame him.

"Thank you." She said again as she stepped out of the cart.

"There will be justice for Bloodbrood." He snarled, turning his back on her and walking away.

Laura froze in place, the corners of her vision going dark at his words. Cold fingers of memory clutched at her head, and she could feel it ready to constrict.

No not now!

She panicked, looking around wildly for a quiet corner of the bank. She dashed behind a pillar just as her consciousness spiraled away.

Dolores Umbridge smiled sardonically, her hands folded primly on the table as she stared down the fuming Goblin woman. Bloodbrood was a headstrong creature, she decided, with little sense and a penchant for defying authority. Her eyes flickered over to the representative from the department of magical creatures. He was glaring at her, too.

"Now now, dear, you know as well as I do that we simply can't have creatures running rampant through Diagon Alley. There are reasons for the restrictions, after all! Mr. Lagoll wants to settle this as quietly as possible, since he was obviously well within his rights."

"Well within his rights?!" The goblin snarled. "I was just-"

"-yes yes, just ignoring the law and entering Diagon Alley in Witch's clothing. I've heard it already. Now be quiet." Dolores dismissed with a sniff. "Now, Representative Furl, I need you to-"

"No! He attacked me. He tried to- he thought I was a witch! Doesn't that concern you at all? He tried to get into my skirt!"

"Be QUIET or I will have you REMOVED." Dolores snapped. She turned back to Furl. "Now, Mr. Lagoll is a respected member of our society who had suspicions- rightly so- that a creature with nefarious plans was wandering Diagon alley. You are the current representative for the department of magical creatures, yes? I'm sure you don't want negative press this would begin to light. Mr. Lagoll is willing to let this drop if the creature is appropriately published for rebellion."

Furl gasped. "Rebellion?! Do you know what you're saying?"

"Of course I do." Dolores smiled sweetly.

"You'll get her killed. Rebellion is not- that's not what this is- she was attacked-"

"Oh Mr. Furl, don't tell me you fell for her lies?" Dolores simpered, her eyes deceptively wide. "I may have to report you if you're taking this creature's accusations more seriously than the Wizard she tried to deceive."

Furl gritted his teeth. Dolores smirked- she knew she had him. This would be her ticket into becoming the head of the department. There was no way she was letting this go.

Bloodbrood lunged at her, openly weeping. Her sharp claws barely missed Dolores' throat, though they caught on her pearl necklace and scattered the beads all over the floor.

"Aurors! Help! I'm being attacked!" Dolores screamed, a vicious smile threatening to emerge.

Bloodbrood had played right into her hands.

Laura gasped, sitting up straight from where she'd collapsed on the cold tiled floor. There was no-one around, thankfully, so it seemed her episode had managed not to draw attention. She drew in ragged breaths, fighting desperately to re-bury the memory before it pulled her in too deep.

She didn't want to remember the farce of a trial.

She didn't want to remember the… execution.

Laura pressed her palms to her eyes and breathed deeply.

I'm not her. I didn't do those things. She was wrong. I can't fix this. I can't do this.

So what can I do?