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chapter sixteen; vault 66 & sleep
Gringotts wasn't as grand as Amaya expected it to be.
Yes, it was all set in marble and imposing amid Diagon Alley, but inside it was a lot less magical than what Amaya was used to. In Spain, the wizarding bank was in Wizarding Madrid, and it was fucking spectacular. She could feel the magic overflowing from every surface, nearly seeing it in the air amongst vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows depicting the journey of the creation of the bank. The magic in Gringotts was imposing nonetheless, it just didn't overwhelm her, it was sharp and cold, and undeniably strong with its wards—just not strong enough.
Amaya had realized that the moment she walked in. They did have wards set in place, and by top-notch Curse Breakers most likely, but they were made to prevent break-ins from wizards relying on a wand, or at least not in tune with magic like she was taught to be.
Her father used to say, "The only way to keep a fine wizard out of an establishment, is to either get rid of all magic or achieve the point in which the magic is so overwhelming just the slightest meddling could kill. Otherwise, it can be manipulated. Well, only by a fine wizard that is."
Gringotts had strong security, strong enough that if Amaya wasn't raised to be a thief she might've been unable to manipulate—alas, she was, and it might have taken her a while, but Amaya could fairly easily work around the bank's magic.
Nevertheless, today wasn't the day for heists. That day, Amaya planned to go into the bank and merely watch, learn, and perhaps see what hidden treasure her father had left in the bank.
Which had to be somewhat stupefying seeing as the goblin they'd be talking to at the bank stuttered the rest of his sentence the moment Amaya set the key to the vault on the counter.
"Vault 66?" he said, his voice barely concealing his surprise. "Who did you say you are Miss?"
Amaya and James exchange a look. Glancing around the bank, Amaya fixed her leather jacket, trying to conceal the muggle trousers and short tank top she had underneath—she was starting to regret not wearing a dress. The way the goblin, Odbert was his name, was looking at her was akin to the look the Guardas had when they told her she'd been thrown in jail.
"Amaya Santoro de la Cerda," she answered clearly, doing her best to imitate how haughtily her mother would say the name.
"De la Cerda?" James asked with a frown just as the goblin's brows raised a fraction and he questioned, "Santoro, you say?"
"My mother's surname," Amaya quickly explained to James before turning to the goblin with a nod. "Yes, Santoro. I believe my father was a client of yours?"
