After a lengthy lapse of silence, Wulm finally dares to speak again. "Sire, is there nothing more required of me?"
Grok flicks his fingers at her in dismissal. "We shall speak again, Councilor, but I have another pressing appointment," he said as he glanced at the clock that tells the time.
"I will await your summons, sire," Wulm said, before rising and bowing her head one last time to the Goblin King. She steadily strides towards the door and pulls the door open to abruptly take a step back.
There standing before her is a rather tall, thin wizard. The wizard is dark-haired with gaunt cheeks. His ice-cold dark eyes are perpetually frozen over, and yet something smolders beneath the layers of ice. A raging inferno within the depths of Rodolphus Lestrange.
Wulm apprehensively turns towards the Goblin King, but Grok merely waves his hand calmly at her. "It is fine, Councilor," he assured Wulm in English. "This is the appointment for which I am running late for."
Rising to his feet, Grok nods his head and says, "My apologies for the tardiness, my meeting ran a bit late." He paused and said, "Councilor if you would step aside and allow for Mr. Lestrange to enter, and then if you would be so kind as to shut the doors behind you, I would very much be obliged."
Unable to completely hide her concern, Wulm steps aside and allows for Rodolphus Lestrange to pass her by. Warily eying the Goblin King, she obeys and closes the doors firmly behind her. The attendants of the Goblin King wait anxiously in the hall, but Wulm does not assure them as she stomps away. She was a Councilor and she had her own overtures to make.
Inside Grok Gringotts's office, Rodolphus Lestrange takes a seat in the specifically enlarged chair for a taller wizard. Rodolphus barely tilts his head in greeting while Grok Gringotts does not even blink in surprise. Purebloods were an especially proud bunch.
"How may Gringotts Bank help you, this fine evening, Mr. Lestrange?" Grok politely asked. "Your letter was rather vague if I recall, correctly."
"It was intended to be so," Rodolphus coldly replied, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sealed letter. "Please read in silence," he promptly instructed.
Grok Gringotts with a hint of chagrin accepts the letter and carefully studies the sealed wax portion of the letter. The wax showed the engraved coat of arms. It was that of two dogs baring their fangs at a shield with two stars and a blade therein. Underneath the shield, there are very faint letters to be made that read, "Toujours Pur," meaning, "Always Pure." It was the Black family's personal crest, and which could not be forged even by another Black family member.
Reaching for a silver letter opener, Grok tears the seal open, before removing the parchment contained within the envelope.
"To the representative of Gringotts Banks,
I, Druella Black, being of sound mind and body permit, Rodolphus Lestrange, the belated husband and widow of my eldest daughter, Bellatrix, to enter my daughter's former vault and retrieve a single item, a golden cup. No more or less. Should anything else be retrieved, the Gringotts bank laws will apply, and the establishment may do as they see fit.
With reservations,
Druella Black."
Grok carefully finished reading the letter, before setting it down on his desk. "It is most unusual for a bank vault to be opened without the vault key," he said, before pausing, "however, considering the circumstances, it shall be permitted." He disliked the pureblood wizard before him, but unfortunately, he was bound to his oath and he must permit the request.
Rodolphus Lestrange tilts his head in a slightly deeper bow than initially. "It is much appreciated," he carefully said as he rose to his feet. He had wasted enough time as it was.
Grok reaches for a small golden bell on his desk and rings it. The door instantly flies open revealing armed guards and attendants. "Please escort Mr. Lestrange to his deceased wife's vaults and ensure that he only selects a golden cup for the laws are still in place." The sooner Rodolphus Lestrange was gone, the better.
Grok points at a goblin as the escort, before paying no further mind to the scene before him. He would gain nothing by further stewing over the situation. With that steadfast thought in mind, he soon lost himself reviewing the bank ledgers. He did run an international wizarding worldwide bank, after all.
The attendants of Grok enter the office in a stream, but wide enough to permit Rodolphus to pass through the middle without being touched. The door loudly shuts behind him, but he does not even pause to glance back. The hall is empty except for the goblin guards in armor and a goblin with a pointed beard that had remained behind.
A goblin with a pointed beard steps forward and says, "Please follow me this way, sir," before the group parts in two and makes room for them to pass.
Rodolphus Lestrange does not glance back one as he led through the stone halls until they reach a narrow passageway lit with flaming torches. The tunnel sloped steeply downward until there were railway tracks on the floor. The goblin whistled loudly, and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them.
With a frown, Rodolphus stood there staring at the undignified contraction, but before at last climbing inside. Without a word of warning, the cart set off at full speed. They hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. The air became steadily colder the deeper they went. They passed by a deep underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor. Until at long last, they flew past a burst of fire from the guarding dragon that signaled that they were near the Black Family Vaults.
The cart abruptly stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall. The goblin with the pointed mustache emerged first from the cart to unlock the door. A mist of smoke emerged as Rodolphus stood before the vault with mixed feelings. The last time, he had been here-, he frowns and pushes the still-smarting memory away.
Rodolphus murmurs, "Lumos," and steps into the vault holding his wand high. The enormous cave is crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armor, though notably many of the skins of strange creatures, some with long spines, others with dropping wings, and many more were missing. It was strange considering that they were some of Bellatrix's most favorite of possessions.
Rodolphus turned away as he spotted potions in jeweled flasks and a skull wearing a crown. An ally and rival. His head was finally taken as a trophy of conquest.
Rodolphus paid the rest of the items no further mind as he would have to present the memory to the Dark Lord of his search. With care, he pretended to search for the golden cup which he knew was already missing from the vault. He searched here and there pushing aside goblin forged helmets and shields. He made his way to the cup's former location and found the shelf empty and missing as previously.
Rodolphus allowed for a trace of a feigned expression of shock and surprise to make its way in the carefully constructed memory, before murmuring darkly and stomping away. Satisfied at his performance, he emerges from the vault with his carefully constructed memory. "The cup is no longer here," he flatly told the waiting goblin with a pointed beard.
The goblin looks unconvinced because he murmurs something to himself in goblin. A wave of sparks floats out from the goblin's long fingers and touch the cloths of Rodolphus. The sparks fade harmlessly away, but if anything had been taken out without permission the sparks would have caught fire where the stolen item was.
The goblin with a pointed beard looks surprised and disappointed, before motioning to Rodolphus to climb into the cart. As the cart begins to hurt across the tracks in a loud voice, Rodolphus says, "I wonder if you would mail this letter off for me? I am under a time constraint and I have other pressing matters to attend too."
The goblin solemnly accepts the sealed letter and says, "It shall be done," before the rest of the trip falls into silence. The trip could not end fast enough for the two males. Tragically, Gringotts is like a maze, and will always remain thusly so to ensure that all thieves are deterred. And for those that are not, well, there is an exceptionally good reason why thieves never make it out alive.