It was closer to lunchtime by the time Jean and Sirius had exited the Ancestry Offices with all of the necessary paperwork completed and a key to the Dagworth-Granger vault in Gringotts in their possession. By such time, Jean was officially named a 'Granger' of the 'Dagworth-Granger' line and she felt like she could breathe a little easier. "Merlin! You're allowed to chew, kid" Sirius chuckled when he spared a look over at the little witch beside him. Her cheeks had bulged out on either side, like a chipmunk stuffing its cheeks for the winter.
"Huh?" Jean blinked, looking up at the wizard in confusion as she stuffed the last of her roast beef sandwich into her mouth.
"Nevermind" Sirius shook his head as a fond smile crossed his face and he led the pair out of the Ministry and back into the Alley, itself.
Soon enough, the two made their way through the bustling rush hour, weaving their way through the crowds who had swarmed to the cobblestone streets for their lunch hour. Jean no longer found herself comfortable moving through the large crowds, something that was largely noticed by Sirius who made sure to keep her close as he chatted about everything & nothing all at once, just trying to keep her mind occupied. For which, she was immensely grateful for. Her clear distaste for crowds was not something she had had as a child, but after the war, she (& many others) had found themselves jumping at even the slightest little noise or touch. It took every ounce she had not to shrink in on herself, to remain unsuspicious and carefree. Especially when all she wanted to do was hide, to not be seen and to clutch onto a wand that was no longer there.
It had gotten better over the years, but that fear was still there, ingrained into her like it was written upon her skin; just like the other war veterans. The fear that the stranger behind you was a Snatcher, come to take you away for torture or worse. Or that wizard bending down to whisper in his witch's ear was actually reporting the "…dirty muggleborn…" he'd seen across the way. It was one of the reasons she preferred Knockturn Alley these days, because you knew what to expect and no one had any qualms about telling you such a fact. The same could not be said about Diagon Alley, who hid behind pretty facades and brightly-coloured storefronts.
It took a fair bit of effort, but eventually they were able to make it to the bulbous cornerstore that was Gringotts' Wizarding Bank where it sat at the northern end of the alley. The ivory building easily towered over the other little shops in the street and wore this foreboding aura about it like a tall tower of books that threatened to topple. Standing beside its polished bronze doors were a pair of goblins in matching scarlet & gold uniforms, where they appeared to be welcoming customers inside.
"Welcome to Gringotts, kitten" Sirius beamed, his hand on her shoulder as he mistook Jean's anticipation for nervousness and guided her inside, past the goblins at the door. Skipping up the stone steps, Jean tried to calm her racing heart as her palms began to sweat as the goblin to her immediate right looked them over with a suspicious and calculating eye. He stood about a head or two shorter than Jean and wore a smarmy expression behind that pointed beard of his.
Gnarled fingers, long & twisted pulled the out doors open for the pair and he bowed as the passed. "Safest place in the Isles, 'sides from Hogwarts' of course" Sirius hummed. "Last bloke that even remotely tried to rob this place ended up hanging by his toes in the basement, so don't even think about it"
"Wasn't…planning on it" Jean lied. She'd have to rob it soon enough, in order to get Hufflepuff's cup out of the Lestrange Vaults. But that was a problem for future Jean.
Jean didn't like how the goblin's stare burnt into her back as they passed, nor when her eyes darted upwards to the engraving placed over the second set of enchanted doors. There, those words that were both foreboding and familiar leapt from the silver grains:
"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 t'was never yours,
Thief, you have been forewarned, beware
Of finding more than treasure, here"
There were more goblins inside who bowed to them as they entered, pulling open the great silver doors with a pronounced whoosh. Inside, a great marble hall waited and about hundred handfuls of well-dressed goblin tellers sat up high upon their stools. Twin counters ran the length of the atrium, quills flying across ledgers, coins were shuffled onto shiny brass scales, precious stones were examined with care and several cartoonic eye glasses were mounted upon the cheeks of the goblins there.
Off to the side, twisting hallways bled away from darkened doorways and the sound of the mining carts could heard in the distance as the unwitting were subjected to the sudden pitfalls of the tracks. Jean could still remember the first time she had ridden such a thing; she'd been with her father, Professor McGonagall and a quaint goblin by the name of Krux and the rollercoaster of a ride had been filled with her terrified screams and gurgling stomach. Suffice to say, she'd been a little bit green when she'd exited the cart. Her father too, but he had hidden it better, though he did mention how his father (her grandfather) had thirsted for the thrill of such rides.
The wizarding bank was just as she had remembered it…Well, not quite, there was no dragon-shaped hole in the floor and the crystalline chandeliers still hung overhead. Also the tellers regarded her with the same level of calculation as they did the other bank goers, instead of just downright refusing her entry. Then again, she had yet to publicly the rob the bank and she hadn't (yet) done anything else to garner such attention from the goblins.
See, after she, Harry & Ron had broken in & out of Gringotts on the back of that Ukrainian Ironbelly all those years ago, long after the war had ended, it had been… "suggested" that they relocate their fortunates elsewhere. Not an uncommon occurrence following the end of the Blood Wars, but still a bit of a process. Jean's relocation had been relatively easy in comparison to the boys', mostly because she just shifted countries, adding her coin to the one in the family vaults in Europe. But Harry and Ron had to suffer through a bit more rigmarole with theirs. And even then, it was a good half a century before the goblins even let them set foot on goblin soil again because goblins had long memories and held grudges for even longer. Just look at the Goblin Wars.
Once again weaving their way through the crowds, Sirius and Jean made for the next available teller who sat towards the back of the hall. "Yeah, those are goblins; pissy lil' creatures" Sirius commented when he noticed her wandering eyes. "Don't wanna piss them off"
"Can you really call them 'creatures' if they're clearly smart enough to run a bank?" She asked, turning a questioning eye to Sirius and the man coughed awkwardly into his fist, apparently caught off-guard by her accusation. Just because her drive to free house-elves or help other such creatures had dulled or moved onto other things, didn't mean that she was okay with such slander. Far from it, in fact.
"Merlin, you sound just like Lily…" Sirius muttered under his breath, "But you're right, they are civilised…people. They've even got their own country and everything. They're just, uh…"
"Different?" Jean offered.
"Ahem, yes, different" Sirius flushed in embarrassment. It wasn't everyday that he got told off by an eleven year old, afterall.
"Hm" Jean hummed cheekily as she sidled up next to the wizard, a slight skip in her step.
"Right then" Sirius cleared his throat as he moved closer to the teller. "Morning" He greeted to the available goblin.
The goblin—Lip, read his name tag—peered at them through a pair of big googly eyes. Compared to the other goblins in the hall, he appeared to be much younger, but no less suspicious of his patrons. "Welcome to Gringotts Wizarding Bank" He greeted.
"We've come to take some money out of Ms Jean Granger's vault" Sirius replied, placing a hand on Jean's shoulder as he did so.
"I don't believe we have a vault for the Grangers in Gringotts" Lip replied, "Will you be opening a new one?"
"Er, n-no" Jean shook her head, "I—I've been added to the Dagworth-Grangers vault?" Though it sounded more like a question than an answer. Sirius nodded his agreement when Lip turned to him for confirmation.
Lip quirked an intrigued brow at the pair, at that. There hadn't been a Dagworth-Granger—let alone a descendant from that line—in Britain for quite some time; not since the infamous potioneer had graced its isles, actually. Mostly because the family originated from Luxembourg and therefore saw no need to attend schools outside of the European syndicate. Still, there were a few handfuls of members who had travelled across the pond to do just that; most notably, a wizard by the name of Hector Dagworth-Granger. Enough of them, for their to be a Dagworth-Granger family vault in the foreigners department of Gringotts, for Jean to be added to.
"You have her key, sir?" Lip eventually spat out, leaning forward in his chair as a sort of excitement settles in his bones.
"Oh, yes, of course" Sirius nodded as he fished around in his pockets for a moment before he pulled out the old key they had been given. The golden key was tiny—no bigger than a stubby number two pencil—with prongs that extended outwards at one end and weathered gold that twisted itself into delicate knots on the other end. "Here it is!" He brandished the key for all to see.
The goblin examined the proffered key, closely, inspecting it for any forgeries or impurities and when none was found he set it back down on the counter, between them. "Good, good, everything seems to be in order. I'll have someone take you down to the vault" Lip nodded as he muttered more to himself than to them. "Griphook!"
At his call, a much younger Griphook appeared to take the mages away with a barely contained sour expression upon his face. Griphook appeared the same as he had always been, with a beaky nose, arms that were just a tad too long for his body (something that made him seem uncannily uncomfortable to look at) and beady eyes that stared at when with clear disdain; his disapproval for mages on clear display. Jean wasn't exactly pleased about having this particular goblin as their guide, considering the last time she had seen the goblin he had double-crossed the Golden Trio in their attempt to retrieve—and ultimately break out of—the Lestrange's vault. But she didn't know to say as such without sounding like some upstart Pureblooded bitch.
"Stay close" Sirius tossed over his shoulder as he followed after the sour-faced goblin, Jean trotting after, not too far behind him. They moved through the twisting hallways, out of the atrium and over to the another set of doors that Griphook held open for them. Beyond the door, you might've expected more marble or gilded trimmings, but you would be surprised because all that was there was the entrance to the earthen tunnels and the vaults, themselves, that lay beyond.
The stone passageway was narrow and lit by dimly flaming torches, meaning Jean had to squint to see, unless she lit a lumos. But once her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, it was easy to note the steeply sloped path that they followed downward, making sure not to trip over any wayward gravel or their own feet as they made their way down to the little railway platform at the bottom. A series of railway tracks hung over the edge of the track, suspended in the air like rollercoaster tracks and Griphook wasted no time in skipping over to the edge and whistling for a cart. Between this blink and the next, an empty cart came hurtling up the tracks to meet them.
Griphook grunted, gesturing for them to get in. "After you"