Our Corrupted Souls

Part XI: The Breaking to Gringotts

"No thief, however skillful, can rob one of knowledge, and that is why knowledge is the best and safest treasure to acquire."
~ L. Frank Baum, The Lost Princess of OZ.

The wizards, at least those acquainted with the Malfoy family, eyed from afar as Lucius stood in a small alley with whom seemed to be his nemesis' new wife. Many wondered what the two were doing together, or why Lucius' (though he is a vocal man,) expression betrayed his emotions. The man's posture seemed unlike himself, and hair made it seem like he had fought an ogre and lost.

Once again, Daria fixed Harry's robes. She cleaned them yet again, and taught Harry the importance of having a proper posture. Harry had not taken Lucius' wand, so they had to transfigurate a cane to resemble his wand. Daria, who had been close to the blonde during their Hogwarts years, placed the walking stick like Lucius did. "Now remember, Malfoy is prideful," she reminded Harry as she pulled his platinum hair into a low ponytail, just like Lucius.

"Yes, I know."

"If you don't do it right, they'll ask for the wand."

"And if that happens, I have my pup," said Harry with a smile intended for the hooded figure towering over Daria.

The woman chewed on the inside of her cheek. She still could not understand who this 'pup' could possibly be, but she would find out soon, when the unstoppable would happen. The two walked into the wizards' bank side by side, but remained at an arm's distance to make it evident that their being together was nothing more than a business deal. The posse Lucius remained one step in front of the dark witch with menacing eyes. And although the two looked almost flawless, there were still some peculiar things about the blond goblins on either side of the bank noticed. For example, Lucius Malfoy never visited the bank without his wife beside him. The man prided himself in marrying the youngest of the three sisters of the noble and ancient house of Black into his family. It was rare when Lucius was alone. If his wife was not with him, another woman, especially Lennox Greengrass' newly wedded wife would not be. Another flaw in the man was how rigid he seemed to be. The young Malfoy had been gifted a walking stick for his twentieth birthday; however, because he did not really need it, he always used it to make his walk more casual and playful. Lucius also always let exactly four strands of hair (two in each side) fall next to his cheek as a way to rebel against the expectations his strict father had of him.

The goblin at the end of the long and elegant polished hall took a small glance at the unexpected partnership, but did not address either of them. He only composed the small singular lense resting over his eye and went back to reading the urgent letter he'd received from an anonymous wizard.

Lucius cleared his throat, the goblin lowered his lettered and looked down on the man. "Can I help you," he asked, using his lense to study Lucius up and down.

"I wish to see my vault."

"And you are?"

Although Daria's expression remained blank, she could feel her palms begin to sweat. She took a quick glance from the corner of her eye to the blond with a calculative look on him. "Must you ask me that," he snarled, slowly placing his walking stick in front of him, palms placed on top of each other. If looks could kill, this was it. Lucius was not pleased. "Of course," he scoffed. "I have been left with discountenance. Bring me Nagnok. He is the only one I will speak with."

The goblin inspected Lucius before removing his lense, stepping down from his cushioned chair, and walking to the back, where there were a series of offices refined to reflect the goblin greed these magical creatures possessed. Meanwhile, Daria and Lucius exchanged a quick glance. The witch flicked her wrist upwards, muttering an incoherent incantation which forced a quick gush of wind up the blond's back, fixing his posture in an instant. Lucius narrowed his eyes, but apart from that he did not say a thing, for he could feel the potion begin to wear off, and if he spoke, his voice would be that of a boy.