Capítulo 692: Ruse Aftermath Ⅵ
The following day after the funeral back at Gringotts Bank, it is teeming with clients rushing in and out of the bank. A young goblin wheels in a cart filled with the latest ledgers and heads towards the accounting department past the teller's and through a dark door. The young goblin emerged in a brightly lit office area filled with dozens and dozens of desks piled high with fiscal ledgers and the sort.
Most of the accountants sitting at the desks are goblins with very few exceptions one of them being a very petite witch. The Mousy flaxen-haired witch has light-colored eyes that are intent on the work before her, Claret, the widow of the goblin, Urlort. Frowning she subconsciously bites on the end of her quill revealing her slightly crooked teeth. A terrible nasty habit that she was unable to kick.
Spitting out the end of her feathered quill with distaste, Claret glanced up to spot the latest ledger boy, at the latest youngest goblin starting from the lowest totem pole, before moving up the ranks. The previous goblin had been promoted, and this young one was still a tad nervous. Nodding at the young goblin she takes the offered ledgers from his hand and places them on the corner of her desk to start the instant she is down with the current financial report for one of the vaults in her care.
All the Gringotts accountants were busy dealing with the aftermath of Damocles Belby's death. The Potion Master's will must be properly executed according to the deceased wishes. Wealth had to be calculated and properly dispersed to the corresponding parties. New vaults had to be set up for the various parties and the wealth had to be transferred to each vault, only to be recounted all over again to ensure that not a single galleon had been lost in the transition. Keys forged for the new vaults and begin the administration of these various vaults including setting up the trust fund for aspiring students. Proper requirements must be set up for the new trust fund, an administrating manager, and investment manager to ensure the trust funds perpetual continuation, etc. Needless to say, it was a tediously long list of tasks and requirements that needed to be properly completed.
Claret stretches her neck from side to side and glances over at her co-worker, a gold-haired squib with handsome features, Peregrine Mulciber. Word had gotten around the bank that Peregrine Mulciber was the actual first-born of the Mulciber household. The other goblins had distanced themselves at first until they realized that the squib was genuine despite his pureblood lineage. He was rather kind which the goblins sometimes tended to take advantage of, but he was no pushover either. He had a stubbornness to him that even the goblins at times secretly admired.
Peregrine feeling that he was being watched glances up to see the petite widowed, Claret of the Goblin, Urlort. He sends her a tired smile of understanding as she nods her head at him in agreement, before craning her neck again and returning to work. Taking a moment to rub the back of his neck, he stretches before returning to his work.
He had not been working for long when the bitter-faced, Griphook appeared out of nowhere. Griphook had been finally been promoted to a teller, but despite his promotion, the grumpy goblin always had a perpetual grimace on his face. Griphook's dark, slanted eyes raked Peregrine once before he gruffly barks, "You're wanted in visiting room six."
Peregrine blinks and furrows his brows. "Did I make an accounting error?" He asked with some concern. He had yet to make an error that hadn't been caught early on. Did the ledger mistake make it to his superiors?
"Personal visit," Griphook hmphed. "Well?!" He impatiently snapped.
"All right then, just give me a minute, Griphook," Peregrine replied as he and Claret shared a bemused glance as he put on his outer robes and followed the grumpy goblin. As they made their way through the halls, Peregrine is greeted by various goblins, while Griphook is not necessarily skipped over. It was not that they were not willing to greet Griphook rather nothing good would come of it as the grumpy goblin tended to give them a tongue lashing that they would not soon forget. As a result, brisk head nods were given in greeting to Griphook, before the goblins hurried away to complete their own tasks.
The nearer they drew to the visiting room the more luxurious the stone passageways became. There are no longer burning fire torches, but elegant, expensive lanterns. The floors are covered in golden and silver threaded carpets and tapestries. Guards with shining pointed spears and wear luxuriously embellished uniforms as they stand guard. Halting at the door, Griphook knocks once, before stepping aside. "Take care," the goblin murmured in warning, before hastily departing the way he came.
Peregrine frowns at the warning until he hears a voice from his dreams and nightmares emerge from the side. "Well, hurry up and enter, I don't have all day, boy," a male voice aloofly demanded from inside. For a moment old fears from Peregrine's childhood possessed him as he tightly clenched the doorknob until his fingers turned white. However, he was no longer a scared child, and he would not cower away this time in terror.
Arching his shoulders back, Peregrine firmly twisted the knob and entered the visiting chamber. It was a lavishly decorated chamber used to meet usually with the wealthy or visitors of importance. There seated with visible contempt is the man he once called father.
Mulciber Sr. is still a handsome wizard despite his age with somewhat still golden hair. His arrogance had not lapsed despite all these years and had only grown with time. With a cool gaze, he studies the child he had once acknowledged as his firstborn, a SQUIB. "You've grown right," he mused out loud. "A handsome man, but the Mulciber's have never had any trouble in that regard. It is a relief to know that will not be an extra issue needing to be dwelt with.
"Why are you here?" Peregrine briskly asked as he shut the door behind him with a loud thud. "There is nothing for you to do here, and I have asked nothing of you to merit nor warrant your presence here."
"Sit." Mulciber Sr. ordered without any qualms. "We have much to discuss."
"What do we have possibly to discuss?" Peregrine bitterly snapped, but still took a seat as requested. Despite all these years, there were still some ingrained habits hard to break. That and he wanted to learn as to the reason, why his father had come to see him. Nothing good could come of it.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
EsliEsma
EsliEsma Can you guess what Mulciber Sr. wants?
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