A weekend queue at Gringotts was hardly unexpected, but Landis had little choice to wait in the line this afternoon. Wanting to deposit some of his earnings by Prideaux, he was nevertheless limited by Hogwarts' hours as to when he might Apparate to Diagon Alley.

He bore the goblins' suspicious glares on his back with cool aplomb. They looked at every wizard that way, jealous of the laws that let them hold gold the goblins considered rightfully and entirely theirs. Landis was unaffected by their passive-aggressive manoeuvres, the deliberate time-wasting delays, the way they looked up scornfully from their great tomes as though assisting the humans was terribly beneath them. He often employed the same techniques on students whose lack of intellect he found particularly insulting. Other bank patrons were less tolerant, the wizard at the head of the queue having gone bright red as he waited and waited for acknowledgement from the goblin cashier.

Patience. Landis appeared as though he could wait all day. The only outward sign he allowed of his less-than-resigned mental outlook was that occasionally his eyes strayed to the other patrons. He might have brought a book save he'd find it undignified.