Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Gringotts Deposits
"Last step, I'll take you to Gringotts."
Without lingering at the shop, Tonks led George to Gringotts.
Gringotts was the only wizarding bank in Britain, operated by goblins and located on the north side of Diagon Alley. Aside from storing money and safeguarding valuables for wizards and witches, it also offered currency exchange between Muggle money and magical currency.
Now that George had officially inherited the old wizard's estate through the Ministry of Magic, he naturally needed to visit Gringotts to transfer all the old wizard's stored wealth into his own name.
"So ugly!"
Standing at the entrance of Gringotts, George silently noted this as he observed the goblin guards in their crimson and gold-trimmed uniforms.
The goblins in this world bore no resemblance to the beautiful creatures of fantasy; instead, they were rather grotesque, looking much like goblins in folklore.
Following Tonks up the white marble steps and through Gringotts' bronze doors, they encountered a second pair of silver doors engraved with prominent words.
The message was clear: anyone harboring ill intentions toward Gringotts' wealth would face dire consequences.
Two goblin attendants stood beside the silver doors. Upon seeing Tonks and George, they bowed slightly and guided them into a vast marble hall.
The hall was bustling with activity, with around a hundred goblins handling various transactions for the arriving wizards.
Tonks led George to an available goblin and handed over the documents they had just processed at the Ministry of Magic.
"Estate transfer for vault 352."
Unlike the Ministry of Magic's sluggish efficiency, Gringotts' goblins were swift and meticulous. After carefully inspecting the documents and confirming their validity, one of them addressed George:
"Here is the key to vault 352. Please keep it safe. Would you like to withdraw any funds now?"
"No need. Just tell me how much is currently in the vault."
George accepted the key and slipped it into his pocket.
The shop still had 500 Galleons left from the old wizard's savings, which would suffice for the time being.
"Vault 352 currently contains 13,200 Galleons," the goblin replied after checking the records.
"Potion-making must be a lucrative business. I'm only making 100 Galleons a month, and even after I'm fully certified, it'll only go up to 140," Tonks remarked enviously.
With her salary, it would take her at least ten years to save that much—assuming no expenses. Otherwise, it might take twenty or thirty years.
Hearing this, George's initial disappointment faded.
He had assumed the old wizard's savings would exceed 100,000 Galleons, so learning there were only a little over 13,000 had initially been underwhelming.
But after thinking it over, it made sense.
The old wizard's potion shop and black market dealings surely brought in substantial income, perhaps even more than regular potion shops.
However, purchasing the shop must have been a significant expense. Additionally, high-level potion research was notoriously costly, with expenditures piling up rapidly.
Considering this, the remaining 13,000 Galleons were reasonable.
In comparison to Tonks' salary, it was indeed a small fortune—enough to last for a long while.
Magical currency consisted of three types: Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.
One Galleon equaled seventeen Sickles, and one Sickle equaled twenty-nine Knuts.
According to Dorah's memory, a copy of the Daily Prophet cost only five Knuts, a typical meal around two or three Sickles, and most wands were priced below ten Galleons.
"George, Hogwarts should send you a new acceptance letter tomorrow morning. Study hard there; you'll definitely make a lot of friends. I have to go now, but I'll visit you when I can!"
At the entrance of Gringotts, Tonks gave George a cheerful smile and ruffled his hair again.
Moved by her kindness, George sincerely invited her:
"Tonks, if not for you, I wouldn't have been able to inherit the estate so smoothly. I'd like to treat you to lunch to show my gratitude. You wouldn't refuse, would you?"
"I..."
Tonks had been about to decline, saying she needed to return to the Ministry of Magic, but seeing George's earnest and hopeful expression—and recalling the delicious breakfast earlier—she hesitated.
"Of course, I won't refuse. Thank you for the invitation."
It was lunchtime, after all, and the Ministry business could wait a bit longer.
Relieved that she agreed, George internally sighed in relief.
He needed Tonks to frequent his shop as much as possible to deter the Dark wizards of Knockturn Alley.
At the same time, he wanted to strengthen his bond with Tonks.
If she visited often, he'd have opportunities to learn magic from her during the time before Hogwarts started.
This was critical for his original body.
Escaping the experimental facility wouldn't be easy, and fending off subsequent pursuers would be even harder. Every additional spell he learned would improve his odds of survival.
And he knew the time for his original body to escape wasn't far off.
"Good thing I'm a decent cook!"
George resolved to prepare a feast, hoping to use his culinary skills to entice Tonks into visiting more often.
Dorah, as the old wizard's servant, already had decent cooking skills from years of practice, and George himself had been a food enthusiast in his previous life.
While not a professional chef, his cooking had always been praised by friends.
Though tastes differed between East and West, he could stick to local favorites with an Eastern twist to ensure a better reception.
After all, British cuisine wasn't exactly renowned. How did that saying go? The thinnest books in the world are the British cookbook and American history.
"What's this? It tastes so unique. I've never had it anywhere else!"
"Sweet and sour pork."
"And this? It's delicious too."
"Kung Pao chicken."
"What about this?"
"Scrambled eggs with tomatoes."
After lunch, Tonks leaned back in her chair, patting her full stomach with a sigh.
"Didn't expect you to know how to cook Chinese food."
"If you like it, you're welcome to visit more often. I can make many other dishes," George said as he cleared the table with a smile.
Tonks waved her hand dismissively.
"I couldn't possibly. I'm not thick-skinned enough to impose like that."
In her eyes, George was already in a difficult situation. Taking advantage of his hospitality just didn't sit right with her.
Sensing her hesitance, George earnestly explained:
"Tonks, don't feel bad about it. You visiting often would actually be a great help to me.
This is Knockturn Alley, after all."
At this, there was no need to beat around the bush.
Tonks wasn't stupid. After George's reminder, she immediately understood.
"If that's the case, fine. I'll come by whenever I have time for a free meal.
But I won't eat for free—I'll supply all the ingredients, and you're not allowed to refuse."