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With Draco's arm firmly linked with mine, we trailed behind Lord and Lady Malfoy, our footsteps echoing against the marble steps leading up to the grand entrance of Gringotts. As we approached the towering building, I couldn't help but pause, marveling at the intricate carvings adorning its façade. The gilded pillars reached towards the sky, casting elongated shadows that danced across the cobblestones below.
Entering the bank, we were greeted by the cool air and the faint scent of polished metal. Making our way through the bustling lobby, Draco and I navigated towards the teller's counter, where a stern-faced goblin awaited us.
"Excuse me, may I speak to the Potter Account Manager, please?" I inquired politely, hoping to resolve the matter of my missing key.
The goblin regarded us with a disdainful sneer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "And does Miss Potter have her key?" he retorted, his tone dripping with skepticism.
It was then that the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning—I had forgotten to retrieve my key from Hagrid before we left the bank. Panic began to bubble within me, but I quickly composed myself, determined to find a solution.
"No, but is there perhaps a way for me to prove my identity?" I pressed, meeting the goblin's gaze with unwavering determination.
With a begrudging sigh, the goblin motioned for us to follow him, leading us through a labyrinthine maze of corridors until we reached a door marked with the nameplate "Silvertooth." Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for whatever lay ahead as we stepped into the room.
As the teller goblin departed, leaving us alone with Silvertooth, the atmosphere in the room seemed to grow more solemn. Four chairs materialized before us, prompting Draco and me to take our seats, anticipation coursing through our veins like electric currents.
Silvertooth's demeanor remained impassive as he produced a dagger and a piece of blank parchment, his movements precise and deliberate. The gleam of the blade caught the dim light of the room, casting shadows that danced across the parchment's surface.
"Just put four drops of blood on this parchment, and it will ensure you are who you claim before we continue," Silvertooth instructed, his voice carrying a weight of authority.
Curiosity tinged with apprehension flooded my mind as I glanced at the dagger in his hand, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in my eyes. "What happens to my blood after?" I ventured to ask, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
Silvertooth's expression soured slightly, his patience evidently wearing thin at my inquiry. With a disdainful sneer, he explained that the dagger was self-cleaning, designed to burn the blood off after its purpose had been served. Nodding in understanding, I steeled myself for what was to come.
Carefully, I nicked my finger with the tip of the dagger, wincing slightly as a bead of crimson welled up. With deliberate precision, I allowed four drops to fall onto the parchment, watching intently as they seeped into the material.
