The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part One

The Head Goblin

James, Sirius, and Frank stood shoulder-to-shoulder-to-shoulder, though none but James and Frank would have known that Sirius was there. Not a bit of him showed beneath the invisibility cloak.

Diagon Alley was abuzz with activity, witches and wizards bustling about from shop to shop, streaming in and out of the bank, down the steep white marble staircase from the golden doors, passing others on their way upward, all of them stepping clear of the two Aurors who stood at the top, staring at the gleaming golden doors.

"Just me, or does it seem they've polished the doors recently?" asked the disembodied voice of Sirius. "It seems particularly... shiny... today."

"Yeah, it does," Frank's voice was flat.

James's eyes traveled across the serpentine writing that was etched in the gold, a spidery script that seemed to breathe with life it was so flowing.

"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."

James swallowed the anxiety that had crept up through his esophagus at reading the words. He'd seen them before, of course, on myriad of visits with Charlus or Dora to Vault 687, but never before had he stood there and read them with the knowledge that he intended to go in and break the very rule that the front doors warned against. Somehow, the words seemed deeper etched than ever before, or perhaps, as Sirius had suggested, more freshly polished - brighter, shinier... more menacing.

"What's the vault number again?" Frank asked quietly.

"711," Sirius answered quietly.

They stood in silence. 

"We've got to do this," James said. "There's no turning back. We've got no other option. We've left Regulus vulnerable too long already."

Frank nodded. They couldn't see it, but so did Sirius. 

James drew a very deep breath, his chest pressing against the slightly too tight fabric of the Auror's uniform. Then, "Come on you lot or we'll never do it." He stepped forward and he felt Sirius step with him, as well as Frank, the two visible lads flanking the sides of the invisible, protecting him from anyone that might walk into him, to keep his presence a secret.

James could only hope that the goblins would not have a way to detect Sirius beneath the cloak.

They walked as confidently as they could manage across the wide, Cathedral-like lobby of the bank. Surely it was only his imagination, but James thought he could feel the eyes of every goblin on them, following their progress across the room, and he worried if there was something they were doing wrong, something that called them out as imposters, something that would be sure to get them caught and thrown into Azkaban. But none of the goblins moved to stop them. They approached the head goblin, who stood at the highest bench of them all, and Frank reached into the breast pocket of his uniform, removing the folded parchment that was their search warrant and unfolding it carefully.

The Head Goblin peered over the edge of his bifocals and stared at Frank Longbottom with an almost annoyed expression. He leaned forward. "May I... help you?" he asked slowly.

Frank nodded and extended his hand, offering up the search warrant to the goblin. 

Slowly, the goblin reached down, closing his long-nailed fingers around the document and pulling it closer to his nose, adjusting his glasses as he held it out at arms length to read it over, his eyes squinting in scrutiny.