"We're here. This is my home," the bearded goblin Eureka Asghar said, pointing at the house in front of them.
Like the other buildings scattered throughout the hidden Goblin Village, this house was lavishly adorned with gold and silver decorations. Even the exterior bricks were painted a shimmering dark gold.
However, Damian knew the bricks didn't actually contain precious metals; it was merely a surface coat. The goblins' inherent hoarding nature prevented them from luxuriously using solid gold and silver as base building materials; they vastly preferred to collect wealth rather than squander it on mortar.
"Old man!" Eureka shouted as he pushed open the front door. "Someone's here to see you!"
This bearded goblin certainly had character, casually addressing his father as an 'old man'.
"Too noisy! I'm not seeing anyone today!" a grumpy, gravelly voice echoed from deep inside the house.
Damian and Luna exchanged amused glances; it seemed Eureka's father had an even more abrasive personality than his son.
Eureka quickly marched into the house, and Damian and Luna silently followed behind him. Upon entering the main hall, Eureka went straight to a reinforced door on the right.
"They were recommended by Dumbledore! They're Hogwarts students!" Eureka yelled through the wood.
"Dumbledore?"
The door creaked open, and a goblin with a shock of stark white hair and a matching white beard emerged. He wore thick, gold-rimmed glasses and maintained an absolutely unreadable poker face.
Damian smoothly retrieved Dumbledore's letter of introduction and handed it to the elder goblin. "Mr. Bask Asghar, I am Damian Black. This is the letter Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you."
Bask read the parchment once, his eyes darting behind his spectacles. "It seems Dumbledore has found another promising talent. The Spirit of Magic truly favors humans."
"From the House of Black, no less... That is quite rare these past ten years," Bask muttered, adjusting his glasses to carefully scrutinize Damian.
Of course it was rare; the primary heirs of the Black family had all been tossed into Azkaban. Currently, the only active Black in the magical world was Damian.
"Bring out what you want identified," Bask finally said, waving them inside.
Seeing that the goblin had agreed to appraise the artifact, Damian reached into his pocket and retrieved the ancient goblin-made puzzle box left behind by his grandfather, Alphard Black.
"This is..." Bask gently took the intricately carved cube, examining the active magical fluctuations radiating from its surface. He spoke with a hint of uncertainty, "It seems to be a vault key?"
"Follow me," Bask grunted, turning back into the room he had just emerged from.
It was a fully equipped Alchemy room, cluttered with bizarre instruments, bubbling cauldrons, and strange metallic components.
"Don't touch anything. If you get cursed or lose a finger, I won't help you," Bask warned sternly. "I'm old, my memory isn't what it used to be, and I haven't seen one of these in a very long time. I need to confirm its exact purpose."
He pulled several heavy, dust-covered tomes from a sagging shelf and began consulting them carefully. After a tense silence, he found the specific diagram he was looking for.
"It is indeed a vault key," Bask said slowly, looking up over the rim of his glasses. "But tell me, young Black... where did you get this? The House of Black never commissioned a terrestrial vault built by goblins."
"It's an heirloom," Damian replied, playing innocent. "What exactly is this type of vault?"
Bask snorted lightly. "A terrestrial vault is a localized spatial pocket established by goblins to store specific items outside of Gringotts. This particular geometric style indicates it was designed purely to store information or research."
"Although I don't know how your ancestors acquired it, I won't confiscate your key. However, because the vault itself is goblin craftsmanship, our laws dictate that while you may copy the information inside, the original documents must be surrendered to us."
Damian thought for a moment and nodded in agreement. A vault key was entirely useless if he couldn't find the physical door it unlocked. If the vault truly only contained ancient information, he had no problem sharing it.
"Okay. Since it's merely an information-storage vault, I can return the original texts to you after I make a copy. So, where is this vault located?" Damian asked.
"The geographical coordinates are bound to the key, but I need a specialized instrument to extract them," Bask explained.
He leaned close to his son, lowering his voice into a raspy whisper. "Eureka, go down to Lannock's shop and borrow the Vault Coordinate Instrument."
Bask was lying. In reality, the coordinates were not stored in the key at all; the key merely acted as an access ping.
This was actually an ancient contingency the goblins had engineered. In the past, wealthy wizards would commission goblins to build secret vaults to hide sensitive items. The goblins secretly recorded the spatial coordinates of every vault in a master 'Vault Coordinate Instrument'.
By placing a corresponding vault key onto the instrument, the device would cross-reference the key's magical signature and spit out the location. Because time inevitably erased memories and bloodlines, forgotten vaults eventually became ownerless. Once a goblin legally obtained a lost vault key, they could use the master instrument to reopen the sealed vault and legally claim the contents for themselves.
Before long, Eureka returned carrying a heavy black iron box. He was followed closely by a fierce-looking bald goblin who seemed to be in a foul mood.
"Bask, I heard you got your hands on a lost vault key?" the bald goblin demanded, his voice a deep, grating rumble.
"It's not mine," Bask replied neutrally, gesturing towards Damian. "The key was brought by this young Black; it merely unlocks an information-storage vault."
"A Black, huh..." The bald goblin scrutinized Damian with a hostile, judging glare. Retracting his gaze, he snapped at Bask, "When you retrieve the information, remember to share a copy with the guild."
With that, the bald goblin turned and stormed out of the house.
Bask stroked his white beard and sighed. "Don't mind him. He once had a severe financial grudge with one of your Black ancestors."
Damian simply shrugged. He was already used to it. While the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black had left behind a considerable network of dark connections, they had also cultivated a massive list of enemies who still harbored deep animosity toward the family name.
Bask carefully placed the goblin puzzle cube into a circular depression atop the black iron box. He pressed a sequence of mechanical buttons, and several glowing lines of goblin script materialized in the air above the device.
"It is located in Somerset, England... not too far from here," Bask translated the glowing script.
He quickly jotted the detailed coordinates onto a piece of parchment and handed it to his son. "Eureka, you go with them to retrieve the information. Ensure the guild's interests are protected."
"Alright, old man," Eureka replied eagerly. He was genuinely thrilled by the assignment. No new terrestrial vaults had been commissioned in the last two centuries, and he had never actually seen one in person.
Eureka looked at Damian and asked, "Do you have a discrete method of transportation?"
"We came on a Thunderbird," Damian said casually.
Eureka's eyes widened comically, and he smacked his lips in disbelief. "Are you mad? That's an XXXXX-Class magical creature! Private ownership is strictly forbidden by the Magical Congress of the United States of America!"
Thunderbirds were massive avian creatures native to North America, most commonly found in the deserts of Arizona. In the United States, they were a fiercely protected species.
Damian smiled innocently. "But this is England. The Ministry of Magic here doesn't have specific regulations prohibiting the keeping of a Thunderbird."
"That's... actually true. MACUSA's laws have absolutely no jurisdiction over British soil," Eureka muttered, his excitement rapidly returning. "Take me with you! I've never ridden a Thunderbird before!"
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