Bab 558: C558 Gringotts Massacre
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After sealing the freshly purged Diadem away with their growing collection of Horcrux remnants, Peter opened another portal, leading the group into the dimly lit lobby of Gringotts bank. The grand marble hall echoed their footsteps as they stepped into the shadows, the bank closed for the night.
And suddenly, as soon as the portal closed behind them, the stillness was shattered.
The bank's anti-theft protections whirred to life, activating with a mechanical precision that echoed through the hall. Lights flickered on, and the air buzzed with the sudden activation of wards and transfiguration enchantments, locking down exits with thick, solid metal walls. Panic rippled through the group as realization dawned upon them… they were in Gringotts.
Peter had brought them to the Goblin owned bank without telling them, and they were detected almost immediately.
Even Albus Dumbledore and Arcturus Black exchanged uneasy glances, aware of the historical tension between wizards and goblins. Goblin wars had erupted over far less, and the potential repercussions of their current situation loomed ominously.
Amidst the growing unease, Peter, unfazed by the unfolding chaos, simply instructed everyone to calm down. With a casual wave of his hand, he conjured a comfortable sofa, and from his storage necklace, he produced snacks, creating a surreal scene of relaxation amidst the heightened tension.
MJ and Peter reclined on the couch, enjoying their snacks as if they were at home, while the others struggled to comprehend their indifference to the dire circumstances. Arcturus attempted to explain the severity of the situation, emphasizing the delicate relations between wizards and goblins, but Peter's response was nonchalant.
"We're here for a Horcrux, and out of respect we'll wait for the goblins. Though if they take too long, we'll just have to force our way into the vault," Peter stated matter-of-factly, as if breaking into Gringotts was a routine affair.
The group, initially resistant to the idea, found themselves compelled to wait alongside Peter and MJ. The minutes ticked by, and impatience grew. Peter, ever determined, was on the verge of forcing his way into the vault when, just in the nick of time, the massive doors leading deeper into the bank swung open.
Dozens of armed goblin soldiers marched in, expecting to face intruders ready for a fight. Instead, they were met with the surreal sight of the group lounging on a conjured sofas, munching on snacks, and engaged in casual conversation. The goblins, momentarily frozen in confusion, exchanged perplexed glances.
It was as if the intruders were oblivious to the fact that they had breached the most secure place in the magical world.
Unfazed by the armed goblin presence, Peter waved. "Yo, we're just here for a quick errand, so If you could call your boss over for a talk, we'd really appreciate it," he said with a casual grin, as if requesting directions to a casual destination.
Seeing that the Goblins didn't answer or move to do anything for that matter, Peter waved them off. "Can you make it quick? I have one more stop to make after this, and I really want to hit up McDonald's before they close. It's been a while since I've had some nuggets."
MJ's eyes instantly lit up, "Oh! I want French fries." She said, confusing everyone by how excited she got just for some fast food.
Of course, they didn't know that Peter and MJ had just spent almost two weeks in an apocalypse universe, where fast food wasn't an option.
The goblins, torn between protocol and the sheer audacity of the intruders, hesitated. After a moment of incredulous silence, one goblin, seemingly in charge, begrudgingly stepped forward. "Wait here," he grumbled before rushing off to report the situation.
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After an anxious ten-minutes of waiting, a goblin adorned in what appeared to be royal garb sauntered in, flanked by an imposing retinue of goblin guards. As he appeared, goblins scurried in behind him, placing a chair with a sort of deference that hinted at his authority.
The Royal-looking goblin, with a sneer etched across his face, identified himself, "I'm Gringotts London Bank Director, Ragnar." He wasted no time taking a seat across from the group, exuding an air of predatory calculation.
The Director eyed them for a moment, especially Arcturus and Albus, before finally talking. "It's not every day such high level wizards break into a Goblin Bank. I wonder how the Ministry will react when they find out. Well, that's if they find out. After all, we've always had a policy of converting thieves into Dragon feed." He threatened, his every word venomous.
"Oh yeah… I forgot they had dragons guarding the vaults…" Peter muttered in interest.
Ignoring Peter completely, the Goblin continued. "You know, this could be seen as an act of war. Two war heroes entering a sovereign nations land without permission." He smirked, showing off his sharp canines. "Im sure my father would be happy to declare war with you wizards once again."
Peter, growing tired of the goblin's self-importance, finally interjected. "Look, we're here to access a vault owned by Bellatrix Lestrange. Voldemort created a Horcrux and entrusted it to her, and it's in her Gringotts vault. We're here to destroy it and kill Voldemort," he stated matter-of-factly, levitating Voldemort out from behind the sofa for everyone to see.
At the sight of Voldemort and the mention of a Horcrux, the scowls deepened on every goblin's face. They knew the implications of such dark magic, and it didn't sit well with them. However, their disdain didn't necessarily translate into cooperation.
Director Ragnar, taking advantage of the situation, asked, "And if we help you, what's in it for us?"
In response, Peter locked eyes with the Director, expressing his frustration with the goblins' greed. "What's in it for you is ending the life of an extremely prejudiced Dark Lord. Because once he's done with muggles and half-bloods, who do you think he'll come for next?" He said, gesturing to the goblins across the room.
Peter paused for a moment before continuing. "Don't think you're safe because you control the economy either. To a Dark Lord, things like money mean nothing. As soon as he's bored or sees you as a target or a threat, it's over. You're next on the list." His words hung in the air, invoking a shared realization among the goblins that sooner or later their own fate might be at stake.
But despite the persuasiveness of Peter's argument, the goblins remained unmoved. Greed was entrenched in their nature, and helping wizards, even in the face of a common enemy, was not something they did for free.
In the Goblin Nation, everything came at a price. "That was a wonderful speech, but it didn't answer my question. What's in it for us?"
Facing a second refusal, Peter sighed, his patience waning. He locked eyes with Director Ragnar once more and made a blunt offer, trying a less diplomatic approach. "What's in it for you is you get to keep your greedy pompous life. Now, let us through nicely, or I can walk over your tiny little corpse and do it myself."
Instantly, Albus, Arcturus and everyone else tried to stop Peter, but it was already too late.
A chilling smile spread across the Director's face as the goblins in the room drew their weapons. He retorted confidently, "I'd like to see you try."
Peter shrugged in response to Director Ragnar's defiance and muttered, "You asked for it." In a blink, he vanished from his seated position, reappearing beside the Director with a swift and powerful spartan kick. The force sent the goblin and his chair hurtling across the room, crashing into the far wall with a resounding thud.
Eyes widened in shock, the other goblins attempted to swarm and attack Peter, wielding their weapons in a futile attempt to overpower him. Yet, Peter moved with an otherworldly speed, eluding their strikes effortlessly. His every movement was a dance of precision and grace, sending goblins flying with each calculated strike.
The Director, recovering from the spartan kick, watched with a mixture of disbelief and regret as his men fell like dominos. Peter, at some point, had obtained a sword from one of the fallen guards, and he wielded it with deadly proficiency, slashing through the goblin ranks like a hot knife through butter.
"Wait…!" He called out weakly, his voice strained by his injury.
From his hunched-over position, the Director struggled to his feet, witnessing the massacre his decisions had wrought. His initial bloodthirsty enthusiasm had crumbled into remorse as he saw his men being slaughtered like defenseless farm animals.
Finally, the last goblin guard fell, and Peter, sword dripping with goblin blood, approached the Director. He asked mockingly, "Where did that bloodthirsty smile of yours go? You seemed so eager for a fight just a minute ago, but now you look scared and angry."
The goblin met Peter's gaze, his voice shaky as he vowed, "You'll pay for this…!"
Unperturbed, Peter nonchalantly shrugged. "Whatever…" With a casual swipe of his sword, he decapitated the Director in one swift motion. The goblin's head rolled to the side, a grim testament to the consequences of underestimating Spider-Man.
Amidst the aftermath, Albus Dumbledore observed the carnage with clenched fists and grinding teeth. He harbored a deep aversion to taking lives, and the gruesome scene before him intensified his inner turmoil.
Though nobody else seemed to care as much as him. After all, goblins aren't the most innocent and upstanding individuals around. In fact, they were the exact opposite of those qualities.
Even James, who usually sided with Albus on just about everything, appeared relieved and slightly happy with the outcome, which surprised the old Headmaster.
A/N: 1643 words :)
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