"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
~
The "elevator" Cassius had stepped into was more like the world's most sadistic prank.
At first, the box appeared harmless — a modest bronze-walled chamber barely large enough for two, its only feature a circular runic pattern set into the floor.
It gave no hint of what was about to happen.
The goblin escort stepped in behind him, muttering something about heirship access, before getting him to raise one of his rings to a section of the wall, like an access key to unlock the function of use.
Cassius opened his mouth to ask how deep they were going when the world dropped out from under him.
The box fell.
There was no gentle descent.
No sound of cables or gears.
Just a stomach-churning lurch as gravity seized them both like a vengeful god and hurled them straight down into the abyss.
Cassius's composure shattered.
"BLOODY—AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—!"
His scream echoed off the metal walls as his body tried to curl instinctively into itself.
Wind roared in his ears, whipping his robes around like storm-tossed banners.
The goblin beside him clutched the bar on the wall in silent horror, his usually stony features distorted in what could only be described as a panic grimace.
"This—IS—NOT—STANDARD—PROCEDURE!" the goblin shouted over the howling air.
Cassius couldn't even reply — his lungs had abandoned the concept of words.
After what felt like a century of freefall, a violent clang reverberated through the box as gravity reversed — the force slamming them both downward as though the earth itself had caught them in a massive hand.
Cassius's knees buckled, and he hit the floor in an ungraceful heap, gasping for breath.
The elevator hissed open.
A cool gust of air brushed his face — carrying with it the metallic tang of uncirculated air, old and thick enough to make his skin prickle.
The goblin stepped out first, wobbling on his stubby legs, clearly trying to preserve what remained of his dignity.
His voice came out a bit higher than usual when he said,
"Welcome, Heir Snape… to the Deep Vaults."
Cassius straightened slowly, adjusting his clothes and doing his best to look composed again.
He cast the goblin a sidelong glance.
"You were saying something about standard procedure?"
The goblin coughed.
"Ah... there are a few of these but, they typically go down at a much slower rate, compared to this shaft."
Cassius smirked.
"Could've fooled me."
The goblin's only reply was a glare sharp enough to cut stone.
Then Cassius turned — and the breath left him again, this time for entirely different reasons.
The chamber that stretched before them was vast — a cavern the size of a city cathedral, walls glimmering illuminating the surroundings, even without torchlight, the veins of ore, or whatever those streaks in the rock were produced light enough to see around the depths.
Each vault door towered like massive door to Hogwarts great hall, easily ten meters high, their surfaces carved with runes that thrummed faintly in his bones.
These were not the narrow passageways of the upper bank.
This place was primordial — the true heart of Gringotts.
Rows of titanic vaults spiralled around the central chasm, each one older than current british wizarding world itself.
Even the air hummed with restrained fury — the unmistakable signature of dragons, as if the very protective spells still active to this day were silently observing him constantly judging him to see if he was truly worthy to be in this place.
"Are… those the originals?" Cassius whispered, awed.
The goblin nodded solemnly.
"The first ten vaults ever carved, before human wizards began depositing coin and trinkets. These held the treasures of the ancient Houses, before Gringotts became a bank. Dragons once slept upon their hoards here. Their descendants guard them still."
Cassius felt a thrill run through him.
"A dragon's lair beneath London… fitting."
He knew the goblins used dragons to protect certain high priority vaults, but down here there were a handful of dragons or rather wyverns as Lady Draconis refered to them, not the true dragons that existed 1000 years ago, due to their degeneration.
His escort gave a tight smile.
"Fitting, yes. But not forgiving. Tread carefully, young heir."
The goblin gestured for him to follow, leading along a narrow pathway of blackened steel.
In Cassius's eyes the very air was alight with enchantments, glittering like silica dust.
Cassius's senses were alive, drinking in the symphony of ancient magic.
Compared to the upper depths where his Arcana vault had been moved to, the enchantments down here felt far more oppressive and troublesome, than those protecting these origional vaults.
The means to access his vaults was simple he needed only to tap the heir's ring onto the door, and the great metal gates would open.
The contents of the three shocking him beyond his measure.
But rather than spend an eternity digging through them, he collected a simple few items from each to investigate before he and the goblin escort retraced their steps to the elevator, both silent now.
When the box sealed and began its violent ascent — equally abrupt and terrifying — Cassius braced himself, managing only a strangled grunt instead of a scream this time.
The goblin, however, let out a low hiss of discomfort as gravity jerked them skyward.
When the doors finally opened at the surface, both emerged pale, hair disheveled, dignity in tatters.
Cassius inhaled deeply, grateful for the normality of air that didn't taste like old magic.
The goblin managed a stiff bow.
"Your access is confirmed, Heir Snape. Gringotts thanks you for your… patronage."
Cassius smirked faintly.
"You can keep the elevator."
Exiting into Diagon Alley sunlight felt almost unreal after the subterranean vastness.
He made his way toward Florean Fortescue's, spotting the Grangers exactly where he'd suggested — sitting by the window, laughing over towering sundaes.
When Hermione saw him, she nearly dropped her spoon.
"You're done already? That was barely half an hour!"
Cassius slid into the seat beside her, still pale but smiling wryly.
"You should be glad you didn't come along. It wasn't a rollercoaster."
Mrs. Granger blinked.
"Oh?"
"It was worse," he said flatly. "Much worse."
Hermione frowned, spoon paused midair. "How worse?"
He looked out the window, expression unreadable. "Let's just say… next time, if im able i'd ride the cart for hours instead."
Then, at last, he allowed himself a laugh — quiet, almost disbelieving — as the echo of dragons and ancient vaults lingered in the back of his mind.