A bank is a place that will lend you money if you can prove you don't need it.

The new role at Gringotts was in it's second day. Wolfgang had thrown himself into the job, keen to ensure he did not lose the post. They needed the money so very desperately - living in one room on Knockturn Alley was all they could afford on what was left, and it wouldn't do to stay much longer unless they very much had to. He had already pursued other means, but there was no trust to be had with those who lured in that Alley.

By day he now scrutinised and examined the portfolios of wealthy wizarding sorts and businesses, much like he had before his ejection from his former post, and for Durmstrang. The British market was a little different, but nothing he couldn't keep up with. Some of the existing clients had been brought his way already, with familiar companies amongst their portfolios in European markets. He was escorting one out, laying on what charm he could stomach, trying to ensure their good custom despite his new face and foreign accent. Had he heard himself he might have heard the slight desperation in the tone.

As he shook hands and let the broad wizard in a bowler hat stroll through the doors to Diagon Alley beyond, he turned on his heel and looked up the vast chamber lined with goblins at high counters. As he did, his eyes were caught by a girl with shocking red hair at one of the counters. She seemed to be arguing, or protesting against the decision of the goblin serving her.

Goblins were evil little creatures, Wolfgang knew only too well. He had dealt with them for decades and spoke their nasty little language enough to convey exactly what he wanted them to do, and so he could understand the snide mutterings they employed while discussing the finances of their customers. If anything, the goblins of Gringotts were even further up their own backsides than the ones he had worked with in the past, and there were evil little rumours about their demands on the wizarding population that rubbed him up the wrong way too.

He made a decision to lurk a little closer to the scene, to overhear what was going on, and to hear what the pointy-faced buggers were saying to each other...

"I'm telling you, I am who I say I am!" Chloe replied to the nasty goblin. He refused to serve her because she didn't have any form of identification. Her wand was back at her apartment, and all of her muggle forms of identification had been in the wallet that had been stolen from her. "Look, I just need to access my account, and make a small withdrawal. Please," She tried to plead.

"Absolutely not," the goblin fired back. "No identification, no withdrawal, that's the policy," He said, calling behind her. "Next?" Chloe was losing her patience now, and her temper. This week had been a complete disaster, and she was sick of things not going her way. All she needed was some cash so that she could finally start to get her life back on track. But also she forgot her wand at home. With the trace still on her, it was near impossible for her to use it, and she had just forgotten it in the Cauldron. That was a mistake.

"No, not next," She said as she slapped her hand on the counter, looking up at the Goblin rolling his eyes. "I will not leave here until you get me my money! It's mine, and I want it now!" Chloe tossed her hands into her pocket, and found a small plastic card. It was her muggle discount card from a store in Oulton Broad. It had her picture, her birthday, her name, even her signature. "Look, look here," She said, slapping it on the table.

He didn't even look. "Not a valid form of identification. Step aside, miss. I cannot help you," the goblin insisted, trying to wave the next customer his way.

"Stop that! No! I demand to be served!" She yelled again, finally losing her patience. If no one stepped in now, there would be trouble. Well, maybe not real trouble, but she'd start something. She had to be served.

From the middle of the heated moment between young witch and goblin, a tall, thin figure in a black suit slid past the waiting queue, and reached out, picking up the tiny, plastic and rather Muggle form of identification. The goblin the other side of the desk looked up and its tiny sharp little teeth glinted a moment in defence before it spotted the Gringotts tie pin, indicating one of the Muggles it worked with.

Wolfgang wordlessly studied the plastic identification, turning it over between his fingertips.
"You've no wand?" He asked quietly, but directly to the girl, who he was led to believe was a Miss Chloe Harris, by the card. Wolfgang's German accent tinged his words, turning the w of wand into more of a v. His gaze was as sharp as the goblin's, but at least he was looking at her, and not ignoring her.
"Protocol, you see." He remarked, "wand, easiest way to identify you if you're a goblin. They've a fascination with them as they can't have them." Wolfgang turned the card over to the front and lowered his chin, listening to her explanations.

"If you'll come this way, Miss Harris, we'll verify your account ownership." He gestured away from the goblin in question, and glanced back over his shoulder to it's greedy little face and spat 'well get on with serving the clients' in gobbledegook at it. It bared its sharp little teeth in response and rounded on the next customer. Wolfgang slipped through a gap in the high ledger desks to where one was unoccupied. Goblins, being little people, wanted to peer down at their customers, and had tall stools. Wolfgang didn't need to sit to comfortably use the space. He procured his spectacles from his suit jacket pocket and raised his wand, tapping a great book his side of the desk.
"Chloe Harris." He told it, with a cursory check of the plastic card, and the ink on the ledger began to swirl and change, soon resolving itself to the records of the vault and account that Chloe's funds were kept safe in, though the young witch could see nothing of this, only that he was busy with something on the desk above her head.

"Now," Wolfgang addressed the young witch. "If you might confirm the last two transactions you made with the bank, and the details of your wand - length, core, wood, distinguishing features, we will get you set straight." He perched his glasses on the end of his nose and looked over them at her. There was no hint of a smile, but his tone was businesslike instead.

Right when Chloe was sure that she would lose it with the goblin, right when she was sure she was going to sock him in the face, an older man stepped in, and offered to pull her to the side. Finally, another human. She could deal with humans. Typically, she could also deal with Goblins, but when they were being jerks about things, her patience tended to run thin."I forgot it back at my apartment, you see, and I'm locked out, and my purse got stolen last week," She explained, but then he drew her into his office. "Great, yes, thank you," She said, keeping step with the older man.

She had to think for a second about the specifications of her wand. Such facts were never quite on the tip of her mind, especially as of late, of course she knew her core and wood, but length? That took a few seconds. "It's a  12 inch Holly with a core of dragon heartstring," she rattled off. "Last transaction would have been, probably, December 26," Chloe had remembered going to Diagon with Mason on Boxing Day to trash talk their families, get out of the house, and actually exchange the gifts that they had bought for each other. An annual occurance.

"The one before that must have been early august, late july last year. I go to Hogwarts, you see, and I come from a muggle town. I only tend to make a few transactions a year. Both of those would have been withdrawls, by the way," She added at the last moment. She stood there quietly as he poured over the book. "Thank you, for doing this Sir. I've had a hell of a week, and I just need a little bit of pocket change," She explained.

Chloe knew what her story sounded like. What, a witch doesn't have her wand on her, and no valid forms of identification at all? That must have sounded like a load of crap, but she was a girl still under the Trace who didn't even think about grabbing it this morning, especially with the robbery still deep in her mind. Why would she carry the last valuable item with her now, especially when she knew that there were people out there happy to take things from her? Logic told her just to leave it in the safe apartment for now, or until she needed it.

"It's a 12 inch holly with a core of dragon heartstring. Last transaction would have been, probably, December 26th." Wolfgang's face gave no hint of whether this was correct, rather the opposite.
 
"The one before that must have been early August, late July last year. I go to Hogwarts, you see, and I come from a muggle town. I only tend to make a few transactions a year. Both of those would have been withdrawals, by the way," His fingers traced down the ledger and across her file where the goblin records had sketched her wand, with a line of runes beneath to represent the magical vibrations it gave.

"Thank you, for doing this Sir. I've had a hell of a week, and I just need a little bit of pocket change,"

"Without your registered wand, that is all that we can permit, either way." Wolfgang explained quietly, raising his eyebrows at the state of her funds.
"For someone of your age, you could be doing much more with your income." Despite the fact it wasn't a startling amount, more clients were always welcome when one was establishing, and who knew who Miss Harris knew and could introduce him to. Even if he'd had to force himself not to sneer at her being from a Muggle town.

"If you'll hold still just a moment, Miss Harris." He raised his wand, poised the tip over the crown of her head, waved it precisely with sharp strokes, nodded to himself about the results.
"All does appear to be in order, though you are limited to ten galleons[1]. If you require more I suggest you return as soon as possible with your wand."

1.	About fifty pounds