Chapter 269: The Gringotts Charter

The moment Wentworth spoke, even the High Elder Goblin froze in surprise. Rosier, Auston, and the others beside him all looked puzzled as well. But then, as if something had dawned on her, Rosier reached into her robes for the first time that day and gripped her wand tightly.

The High Goblin Elder's initial confusion quickly gave way to a deepening scowl. He stared directly at Wentworth and said slowly:

"I don't understand—what does the Heir of the Grindelwald family mean by this? Are you accusing Gringotts of something? If so, know this—we will not be your scapegoats. If it comes to that, we are prepared to go down with you!"

At the goblin's veiled threat, Wentworth gave a soft chuckle, entirely unfazed.

"Elder, you know exactly what I mean, don't you?"

The tension in Gringotts' grand hall instantly thickened like fog.

The High Goblin Elder stood in silence for a moment, before finally shaking his head. He responded, slowly and deliberately:

"Mr. Grindelwald, you needn't resort to such absurd insinuations. If you find our actions unsatisfactory, Gringotts is willing to offer a certain price. And if someone must take responsibility for today, then as the High Elder of Gringotts London, I will bear that burden."

"However, let me be clear—Gringotts has not detained any other members of your Alliance. So tell me, Mr. Grindelwald, what do you say to that?"

Wentworth held the goblin's gaze for a long moment. At last, he smiled, as if he had made peace with something, and replied casually:

"Is that so? Then perhaps I've misremembered. Although… I do recall from A History of Magic that after the ceasefire agreement was signed between the International Confederation of Wizards and the goblin representatives, a separate charter was drawn up. A charter that authorized goblins to establish the only bank recognized by the magical world."

He paused, observing as the High Goblin Elder's expression began to shift.

Wentworth's lips curved slightly as he continued:

"It's said that every branch of Gringotts around the world holds a copy of this charter—but the original… the true, signed charter… has always been kept here, in Gringotts London. So tell me, Elder, would I be fortunate enough to see it with my own eyes?"

No sooner had Wentworth finished speaking than a goblin beside the High Elder stepped forward and shouted, pointing a crooked finger at him:

"You're declaring war on goblinkind! Do you not fear sparking a new conflict between goblins and wizards?!"

Wentworth waved a hand dismissively and replied with calm indifference:

"Not at all."

The goblin looked completely stunned by his bluntness, struggling to come up with a response.

Then Wentworth turned to him with a warm, almost friendly tone:

"If you do choose to declare war on the wizarding world this time, I only hope you'll hold out longer than the last. Oh, and if you find yourselves short-handed when attacking various Ministries or the Confederation, do let us know. The Alliance would be delighted to lend a hand."

"No need to thank us. Really—we're more than happy to help."

Around them, the Alliance wizards burst into laughter. Threaten them with war? They welcomed it. They'd even give the goblins a little push to get things going.

At that moment, the High Goblin Elder spoke again:

"Name another price. Know that Gringotts has gathered a millennium of treasures—many of which your kind would never understand..."

But before he could finish, Wentworth interrupted with a shake of his head:

"No. This is the only price. I have a fondness for historical artifacts."

Seeing that Wentworth would not budge, the young goblin beside the Elder gritted his teeth and growled:

"That's impossible!"

But the High Elder had fallen into silence. After a long pause, he finally gave the order:

"Bring the charter."

The young goblin stared at him in disbelief, wide-eyed. It wasn't until the High Elder repeated the command that he reluctantly turned and began his slow descent into the depths of Gringotts, glancing back several times along the way.

The goblin descended to a hidden chamber deep below Gringotts, where several elder goblins sat around a stone table. He recounted everything that had transpired above. By the time he finished, he was nearly shouting:

"Gringotts is the pride of goblinkind—the only pride we hold in the wizarding world. Without that charter, Gringotts ceases to be the sole magical bank. The Alliance—they want to uproot our very foundation!"

But the elders at the stone table remained silent.

The young goblin looked around in disbelief, unable to comprehend their hesitation.

After a while, someone sighed. One of the elders finally spoke:

"No, you're mistaken. With the scale Gringotts has achieved today, even without the charter, no one can challenge our position. We will remain the sole bank of the wizarding world."

Another elder nodded in agreement:

"Exactly. Wizards are inherently distrustful—even the International Confederation struggles to unify them all. What makes Gringotts indispensable is not a piece of parchment, but the reputation we've built over a thousand years."

Back in the grand hall, Wentworth and the High Elder now sat face to face. Wentworth politely poured the goblin a cup of Gringotts' finest tea before asking, slowly:

"Elder, I'll ask just once more—are you certain Gringotts hasn't imprisoned any more of our Alliance members? Or those sympathetic to our cause?"

The High Goblin Elder lifted his teacup, took a measured sip, and answered with an unwavering expression:

"None."

Wentworth smiled faintly, giving nothing away, and said nothing further.

Moments later, the young goblin returned, carrying a wooden box in both hands. He walked solemnly to the High Elder's side.

The Elder opened the box and drew out a sheet of beast-hide parchment inlaid with golden threads. Whatever magical creature it had come from, the very air in the room grew noticeably warmer the moment it was revealed.

He placed the parchment before Wentworth and gestured for him to proceed. Wentworth, without hesitation, drew his wand.

"Incendio Maxima."

The High Elder grabbed the young goblin beside him, who was already about to lose control. Around them, several wands now pointed directly at the two goblins.

But as the flames subsided, the parchment remained untouched—resting serenely on the table, not a single edge singed.

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