Sasha rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head.  From conversations with his classmates, he’d learned working with goblins could be frustrating but he hadn’t had much of an opportunity to experience it, first hand.  As an unaccompanied minor in the wizarding world, he’d never had need of a Gringott’s vault and his interactions with the bank had been limited to exchanging moderate sums of pounds or euros for galleons at the start of the school year.  Now that he was seventeen, it seemed to make sense to have larger amounts of galleons than he was comfortable carrying around. 

“I am seventeen,” he insisted, yet again.  “I have more money - in muggle banks - and might be transferring more of that over.  But - I’m only an adult here.  Muggle banks don’t consider you an adult until your eighteen, so most of the money is still with trustees.  It's mine, there's just a limit to what I can do with it.  Making it 'disappear' into an untraceable bank is definitely not on the list.” 

”So, you want a large vault but have no money to put in it?"  The goblin starred down at him, suspiciously. 

“I have some - not with me, though.  As much as the trustees allow me to take without questions.  They are muggles.  I want to open a vault with some, I just … I’m hoping for information, first.  Then I'll know how much I want to put in in the future.  What are the interest rates and who do you, you know, invest with?  How do transfers from the muggle world work?  Most of it’s electronic, so I assume you don’t do computerized fund transfer.  Do I just … withdraw 15,000 euros and come in here and know … do you keep that many galleons on hand?” 

Another suspicious glance from the goblin before the creature leaned to the side to whisper something in his neighbor’s ear.  In retrospect, asking direct questions about how many galleons they keep on hand wasn’t the way to win their trust. 

“Look.  I’ll just … I’ll see what I can withdraw and come back.  I’d just really like to know about interest rates before I take too much out of other accounts.”  Sasha quickly nodded and took a step back before he could, unintentionally, raise too much more suspicion. 

Besides, the person behind him was probably growing impatient.  Sasha had thought he'd heard someone clearing their throat but it could have just as easily been his own self-consciousness.  Sasha turned to mutter an apology and stopped before grinning when he recognized Adon.  "Oh - allo.  I mean - I'm sorry.  Were you waiting?  They ... questions don't seem as straightforward as I was hoping.  Or, there playing dumb with me."  They probably just saw him as some overenthusiastic newly-adult muggleborn, eager to get their first account.  Which wasn't far off. 

Wow. A Schlagenweit.  Adon blinked.  He hadn't seen one of those in a while--though he'd heard Jacoba was working at the Ministry.  Taking care of the kid hadn't really been on his plans for today.  As it was, Adon was already checking off a couple of items on his birthday list: 1.  buy alcohol and 2. drink alcohol.

Gringotts was just part of a daily tradition he'd been keeping since he'd arrived in June.  It always had the same results, so he didn't necessarily need to be sober for this--not, he reminded--that he was particularly drunk.  And, well, he wasn't exactly Schlagenkind's keeper, so, at any rate, he didn't necessarily need to be sober for that, either.  But it did give him an opportunity to provoke the goblins.

Dreogan had been borderline demented when he compared the prejudice against goblins to anti-semitism.  Compared goblins to Shylock.  Sure, Shylock was Jewish, but what had made him the villain of that Shakespearean play, Merchant of Venice, was that he was a bastard.  And sure, goblins might appear to like like Shylock--avaricious, miserly, and brutal as Shylock--but that was because they actual bastards. 

But enough about them.  Adon gave a nod to Sasha in greeting, adding "Sasha. Good to see you."  He glanced around him,eyes locking on Goblin-in-Charge--who stood with the other goblins, all huddled behind their grand podium of dark, polished wood--a sidebar of sorts.  Waving to the Goblin-in-Charge, he smiled in satisfaction as the goblin, beady eyes narrowed, approached.  "Can you give him a goddamned pamphlet--or something?" he asked, gesturing towards Sasha.  "The kid is looking to offload large sums of money to your inestimable bank.  Or do you not believe in customer service anymore?" 

Adon tilted his head slightly towards Sasha, speaking in a low grumble--though the smooth marble entry hardly concealed the words.  "You may want to reconsider, though.  Just in case they decide to let you  smother to death in your own vault." The Goblin-in-Charge was now in growled discussion with a couple of other goblins.  After a moment, they turned their attention to him, their pointy teeth bared.

Undeterred, Adon approached them.  "While you go check through your marketing materials, I'd like to check into my vault."  Casually, he held out his battered wand to the gaggle of goblins and flipped to the page that held his vault's ledger.  He was met by a hiss of protest by one goblin, who clasped his wand tightly.  Adon took little notice.  Not seeing what he'd been looking for, he dropped the cover of the ledger closed once more, and held out his hand for his wand. "On second thought, there's no need.  I will be back tomorrow." 

Scornfully, the goblin dropped it into his open palm.  Adon gave a wide, accommodating, and most certainly sinister, smile to the goblin in return.  Well, that was enough goblins for today.

"Thank you," he informed before turning towards the door. He halted and returned. He'd forgot.  They ought to give Schlagenkind that pamphlet.

He was partially gratified when a goblin hobbled down from his high and mighty podium in order to waddle over to Sasha, handing him a rather hefty scroll of parchment.  "Our terms of agreement of a customary account," the goblin informed him.

"Your clause on potential hazards does include willful imprisonment within your vault, I hope?" Adon butted in.  All goblins within hearing looked up sharply, another two hopping down from their podiums--beginning to press forward.

Sasha mirrored Adon's nod and started to take a step back, fully expecting the Auror's business with the goblins to be his own and, therefore, none of Sasha's business.  That wasn't the case.  Sasha looked back and watched Adon beckon one of the goblin's towards him.

"They really may have already provided me with the information I need."  Sasha commented, as he looked back up at the goblins.  He had come looking for information and answers, not to get on the goblins' bad side before he'd even come into possession of his money.  So far, they hadn't given him many reasons to trust they were motivated by their clients' best interest. 

Gringott's goblins weren't the typical conversation topic of choice amongst his classmates but, through the years, he'd heard plenty of rumors about accidents befalling wizards whose money was in their care.  He'd never been able to decipher how much legitimacy those comments held.  Sometimes Sasha got the impression they were half-truths, embellished with only a hint of exaggeration.  Other times, they'd sounded like a wizarding version of an urban legend, holding more value in entertainment then fact.  Even now, as Adon turned to check his own ledger, Sasha couldn't tell if the Auror was being facetious.

"Thank you for your help," Sasha offered as Adon turned to leave.

The Ravenclaw turned and took the scroll the goblin offered, glancing down at the title even as the goblin identified it.  Sasha unrolled a few inches of parchment, read over the first couple sentences before sighing and nodding his head.  It was a shame he couldn't give this to his lawyers to read over and piece apart.  He should probably consider hiring a lawyer in the wizarding world, assuming they had such a thing. 

"Is that really a thing?"  Sasha asked Adon, looking up from the parchment, somewhat surprised the Auror was still there.  He noticed, then, the disgruntled goblins moving towards them.  What were the chances they had empty vaults set aside for those who didn't have one waiting for them?  "I'll take that as a subtle request for us to go.  Perhaps, I can peruse this on my own time, elsewhere.  I still have a couple months to consider the options." 

He turned and made his way towards the door, patting his pocket to check for his wand as subtly as he could.  Once outside, he glanced back towards the bank to make sure the goblins weren't following them out before looking back towards Adon. 

"Thank you, again," he offered.  "It seems like that was more complicated than it should have been.  You know, our curriculum spends a lot of time informing us about being at war with them.  It'd be nice if they spent a little time teaching us how to conduct business with them."  That was probably one of those things that kids from wizarding families learned by watching their parents.  One day, they needed to come up with a muggleborn counterpart to the Muggle Studies class. 

"There are really no alternatives to keeping-"   Sasha cut himself off, grinning apologetically at Adon before waving the sentence off.  "I don't mean to keep you from something important.  I'm sure you have some festivities to get to or anything more interesting than banking.  It's - I -"  He made to speak, a myriad of questions and comments and apologies but hesitated.  "It's good to see you." 

"Good to see you, too, Sasha," he said with a nod that was as kind as he could muster in these cold, mausoleum-like walls.  "I'm not sure what I did was help though."

He tilted his head towards the white marble archway that served as the entrance, indicating their general direction, which he began to saunter towards.  "I will say," Adon spoke in a voice pointedly loud enough--or a smidge louder--for the goblins to hear, "that the best way to conduct business with goblins would be to avoid it.  It would serve you well to consider all options.  You can't beat Gringotts for convenience," by now, Adon and Schlagenkind were back into the open air of Diagon, " but it seems to me that there are much more reasonable banks abroad.  One in Germany, I believe." He nodded towards Sasha and his inherent...German-ness.  "Cassiopeia or..." his hand flitted in the air, searching for the word.  He let it drop.  "There are other places, too.  Israel of course. Though a good deal of Israeli money lies in other banks. Can't beat the Swiss.  I hear America's Fort Knox has a section for wizarding goods. That may be only urban myth, though." 

Sasha was doing what Sasha did, stammering over formalities and polite excuses.  Apparently excusing him. 

Talking about something about festivities.

Hell.  The one person in England to pick up on the fact that today was Adon's 29th birthday was Schlagenweit.  Not that it was particularly unpleasant that he did remember.  If anything, it was a sort of pleasant surprise.  He just had sort of hoped that it would be someone... else.

He fully expected baked goods from Akiva at some point in the day. He'd need to make a point to touch base with her early on enough in the day that he was not completely and utterly wasted...

But, the more Adon thought about it, it was not in the least bit surprising that Schlagenweit knew.  He probably had a neatly-bound pocket planner somewhere there, laying out everything from second-tier acquaintances' birthdays to shifts and movements in the major constellations.  Like Cassiopeia.

Why had he been thinking about Cassiopeia earlier?

"But enough about constellations," he said, brightly, "you are kind to inquire to my plans.  I am going to Muggle London to procure" Wait for it.  "a Cellular Mobile Telephone.  I hear that iPhones are the best for selfies."

Adon may be approaching 30, but he knew what was hip.

He considered Sasha for a moment.  Then another moment.  Did Sasha know what was hip, though?  Damned if he let a with it kid like Schlagenkind miss out on cool-points on his watch.

"You should come," he offered abruptly.

“Well, if what you say is true,” Sasha glanced over his shoulder towards the towering, slightly lop-sided bank.  “It may be for the best if they chase me out the next time I go in.  One might logically reason that is helping.” 

It was a bit strange to feel like a fish out of water in the banking realm.  He was the son (sort of) of a top banking executive.  In the muggle world, he had a pretty good sense of what he was doing and he knew most of the rules of the game.  Which brought him back to the main question he’d been trying to find an answer to today: was there really a good reason not to leave his money in the muggle world?  Other than to prove loyalty to wizarding-kind.

“These other banks, are they run by humans?”  Even as he heard himself say it, Sasha was painfully aware of how the question sounded, but given the previous context they’d just made a hasty retreat from, he hoped Adon didn’t read too much into it.  He had a strong suspicion another human would be easier to deal with.  Especially if they were muggleborn.  “I really need to hire a wizarding lawyer.”  Given his future plans, getting in good with a good, muggleborn-friendly wizarding lawyer was a really good idea. 

Constellations? 

Sasha blinked in confusion at Adon before surveying the alley, looking for anything in their vicinity that might explain the segue.  No faded wooden Seer signs or anything of the sort. 

“A Cellular Mobile Telephone?” Sasha glanced back at Adon and grinned.  Now that was a mouthful.  “I … well, they are.  I like mine.  Not that I do a lot of selfies.  I mean, there are a lot on my phone but that was more Abby’s doing.  She…never mind.”  Like most things frivolous and fraught with potential hilarity, Abby had taken to selfies like a cat to catnip. 

Sasha blushed and shook his head.  “Sure.  I’d be happy to come.  You can try out mine, too, to see if it’s what you want.  I mean - if you want to test the selfie capabilities.  And the games.” 

The Ravenclaw turned towards the Leaky Cauldron, tugging his own iPhone out of his pocket.  As usual, the phone was off to prevent the ambient magic of Diagon from frying it.  Speaking of which…"You’ll want to get the extended warranty,”  Sasha offered, flipping the phone over in his hand.  “As much as you try to remember to turn it off before going in Ministry or here, you’re bound to forget one day.  Since they can’t identify damage by magic, they can’t prove you killed it by stupidity.  So, they’ll replace it, if it’s under warranty.” 

He may not be the most well-educated when it came to hip-ness, but he knew the practicalities.  That was one lesson he’d learned early on.   

"Trust me," Adon said emphatically.  "It's not urban myth.  What you have heard is true."  He aggressively gestured the questions about other banks out of the way.  He was sorry he brought that up.  He hoped he didn't need to be sorry he was bringing Schlangenkind along.  This was a joyous occasion, after all!

Sasha numbly repeated the name of it: the cellular mobile telephone.  It had a nice ring to it.  Adon smirked and tapped the side of his nose, knowingly.  "I bet you didn't think I did, but I know about these things."  He was too clever by half for this teenage wiz-kid. He held out his hand, expectantly, for the device that Sasha had just offered the use of.  He felt a selfie coming on...

He did catch some of Sasha's precautionary tale--extended warranty, killing by stupidity, yes yes.  He was not a total idiot...

Not that I do a lot of selfies.  I mean, there are a lot on my phone but that was more Abby’s doing.

"Why not? They're fun! You'll be fine," Adon threw out one light-hearted excuse after another.  He paused, the thought taking a moment to penetrate.  "You still see Abby Reid, eh?" he smirked before realizing, no. It was not like that with the two of them.  "How is she?" he continued as they set foot on the first Muggle sidewalk of the day.  He could tell because the concrete of the side walk was polka-dotted with old, discarded chewing gum.  It was a disgusting habit of these Muggles, but he supposed he could not blame them.  If they didn't have half of the delicious confections and candies of the magical world, they'd also probably resort to chewing the same thing over and over and over and over again.

Like cows. Didn't cows chew their cud twice?

Adon pressed a couple of buttons down repeatedly, waiting for something to happen, when the telltale apple sign appeared. Yes, Jonas had shown him that before, and that had definitely meant it was warming it up.  There it was! Maps, yes.  Type in Apple Store, yes. 

"Turn left," the prim voice of a woman informed.  Adon, surprised, nearly dropped the thing.  "Warranty'd cover that?" he asked. "Is that... a Telephonic Operator?"  He heard that there were operators on telephone lines--Muggles sitting at a call center, waiting to redirect your calls. On one level, that was not so foreign.  Adon'd used his fair share of radio transmitters in the military.  "Oh. I know," he said, "the operator is utilizing a global positioning system, and... transmitting it onto this device."

Whoever said Muggles hadn't figured out at least a little magic had not spent enough time with them.  "We would have gobal positioning systems on some of our ... devices.  But they didn't talk. That's the operator, right?" he repeated.

Schlagenweit couldn't help but be impressed, now.  How many Purebloods did he know that knew about global positioning systems?

Wait... was he trying to impress Sasha Schlagenweit?  Adon toned his enthusiasm down.  "That way," he pointed to the left, captivated as the map oriented itself to his movements. 

"So, how are things? Where are you staying these days? With your sister?"