The Truth in Gold and Ink
Chapter 10: The Truth in Gold and Ink
The goblin led them deeper into Gringotts, away from the grandeur of the main hall and into the stone corridors that lay beneath it. The marble floors gave way to rougher, older stone, and the torches lining the walls flickered with a ghostly blue flame.
Harry walked slightly behind Cassia, his heartbeat quickening.
The deeper they went, the heavier the air felt.
It wasn’t just the chill of the underground vaults. It was the weight of what was coming.
Cassia, however, remained calm.
She walked with purpose, her sharp grey eyes flicking across the corridor as if memorizing every detail.
Harry envied that confidence.
She knows what she’s doing. I don’t.
He hated that feeling.
But at the same time…
Maybe that’s why I need her.
The goblin finally stopped before a large iron door and pushed it open.
"Inside," he instructed.
Cassia stepped in first. Harry followed.
The Meeting with the Goblins
The office was smaller than Harry expected, but no less imposing. Shelves lined the walls, packed with ancient-looking tomes and thick ledgers. A massive stone desk sat in the center, and behind it, a goblin with deep silver eyes and thin, claw-like fingers watched them enter.
He didn’t speak right away.
Instead, he simply studied them.
Harry shifted uncomfortably under the weight of that gaze, but Cassia didn’t flinch.
Finally, the goblin—whose nameplate read Ragnok—spoke.
"You have requested an audit of the Potter accounts," he said smoothly, his voice low and precise. "May I ask what prompted this request?"
Cassia didn’t hesitate. "Harry Potter was kept unaware of his inheritance and placed with Muggle guardians against his parents' wishes. We have reason to believe someone—" her tone darkened slightly, "—has been meddling in his affairs."
Ragnok’s expression remained unreadable, but Harry swore something cold flickered in his silver eyes.
"I see," the goblin murmured. He turned to Harry. "Do you confirm this claim, Lord Potter?"
Harry stiffened.
There it was again. Lord Potter.
The title felt foreign, wrong—like it didn’t belong to him.
But he forced himself to nod. "Yeah. I—I don’t know anything about my inheritance. No one ever told me."
Ragnok’s fingers drummed against the desk.
"Very well," he said. "We shall begin."
He reached into his desk, pulling out a thin, silver dagger.
Harry’s stomach twisted.
"Blood magic," Cassia murmured, as if sensing his unease. "It’s how they verify lineage. It’s completely safe."
Harry wasn’t sure he believed that, but he took a steadying breath as Ragnok held out the dagger.
"One drop," the goblin instructed. "Place it on this parchment."
A single sheet of aged paper lay before them, covered in intricate golden script. At the top, his name was already written.
Harry James Potter.
Harry took the dagger, ignoring the way his fingers trembled slightly, and pressed the tip against his finger. A single crimson drop fell onto the parchment.
Immediately, the gold ink shimmered—then spread like lightning across the page.
More words appeared.
Harry’s breath caught.
Cassia leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
And Ragnok let out a slow, knowing sigh.
"It seems," the goblin said, voice edged with something dark, "that you have been deceived, Lord Potter."