Chapter 214 - Goblin Auction (1/2)
Gringotts was quite busy as patrons went in and out but to her surprise the minute, she stepped in through the bronze doors one of the guards said, ”Miss Prince, please head to teller Bogrod's, Griphook is waiting to take you inside.”
”Thank you,” Rowan said, before making her way inside the great marble hall. If Gringotts had been busy before right now it was all hands-on deck as the ship was sinking. The goblins seemed rather harried as they ran in and out taking patrons to their vaults, while those at the teller counters couldn't get through patrons fast enough as the lines seemed just as long as ever. Gringotts would be closing early this evening in order to accommodate the VIP guests that would begin to arrive in only an hour or two.
Squeezing through the crowd, Rowan made her way to Bogrod, the elderly Goblin teller to only spot the familiar face of Griphook unhappily standing next to the teller counter. The instant Griphook saw her, he rushed over and faintly bowed, ”This way, please.” Griphook did not bow much to garnish the attention of the other patrons.
”And how fares your day, Griphook? Busy?” Rowan made small talk as he led her through one of the doors to a rather elegantly furnished hallway. It would seem this was for the VIPs only.
Griphook lips merely twisted as he muttered, ”It's the Christmas season.” Rowan inclined her head at the truth of the statement. Of course, the bank would be busy, it was that time of the year.
Studying the famous goblin portraits on the wall, they pass closed conference rooms. Whether they were filled at present, Rowan didn't know as Griphook led her to the middle door on her left. ”Someone will be with you shortly,” Griphook instructed as she stepped inside.
This conference room unlike the one she had been before was elegantly carpeted with an antique Turkish rug. The table and wooden ornaments glistened having been polished with varnish. The painting on the wall was of floral sceneries, some muggle as they did not move. But smack dab on one of the walls was a painting that caused her mouth to flop open.
”That can't be the original,” Rowan whispered as she hurried over to stare at the piece. She'd already spotted an original Renoir and Monet, but this couldn't be Van Goh's original Starry Night could it? But unlike the original, there are tiny black witch-like figures flying on broomsticks through the starry sky.
”Like it?” Said a hoarse voice from behind her causing Rowan to whirl around as she had been so distracted studying the painting on the wall.
”It's one of my favorite works from the artist,” Rowan explained to the elderly goblin that had appeared behind her, Grok Gringotts. Behind him was his regular entourage of attendants and guards with pointy spears.
Squinting his eyes at the piece, Grok Gringotts dismissively waves his long, neatly trimmed fingers at her. ”You may have it if you would like,” Grok Gringotts said. ”I never much liked modern impressionist artists.”
Rowan almost chokes as she says, ”This is an original isn't it?”
”He painted two,” Grok confessed as he took a seat at the table. ”One for the muggles without the flying witches and this one. The ministry couldn't very well allow its existence and confiscated it. I procured the painting for a mere sickle as a trifling decoration for the room.”