★
★ good luck be with you / you go your way, i go mine ★ ──────────────

Gringotts worked with a terrifying efficiency.

Everything about the capital-i Institution was akin to a well oiled machine. It was a big, important place, that dealt with big, important clients; there was never time to waste. The design of it was meticulous. Every gear in place worked in harmony with every other gear. Redundancies were found before they could become issues and removed with the kind of precision a horologist would pride themselves on.

Kitty had never thought of herself as a redundancy. Still, it had been seven months. Seven months since the accident — seven months of her being unable to go back to work. She checked in periodically as her recovery progressed. There seemed to be no assignments she was cleared to take, be that for reasons physical or psychological. Gringotts paid for a large chunk of her treatment. The least they could do, by law, considering she was injured on the job, and she was about as grateful as she could be, but the fact remained. It had become increasingly clear, in fact: she was a redundancy. Gringotts did not deal in redundancies, and she was no exception.

The first meeting came after Kitty reported to her boss that her wand wasn’t working properly. That report felt like a sign, though: she could see his face tighten and eyes flicker — checking his own office for a hidden escape. The conversation slowed to a halt, with a lot of clearing of throats to get rid of the uncomfortable silence that then seemed to suddenly dominate the room. Finally, the most awkward of eye contact. Kitty knew. Her boss knew. She left his office with no new assignment, once again, and a vague awareness of things to come.

They offered a different position at first. Whether it was a kindness or contract, Kitty did not know — she just knew she wasn’t keen on taking it. It would have been something in security: administrative, with a nice comfy chair, and pretty big desk. Generous enough of an offer, sure. It was still the exact opposite of what Kitty wanted. She said no, and again — she could feel the conversation slow in real time, air turning resin-thick. The group in the meeting room (consisting of her boss, her boss’s boss, some security department higher-ups, and a few suits from human resources for good measure) all seemed to find a new passion in architecture: staring at the ceiling, glancing at the tall walls and windows around them.

After an exchange of pleasantries, things were put into motion. Meeting after meeting to work out exactly what could be done. Kitty was used to Gringotts being a little labyrinthine, but she had never considered just how far that extended. It wasn’t just the tunnels and tunnels of vaults, but the upper levels of conference rooms and offices, too. She had kept to her own floor, mostly — there was always something more pressing to attend to. Briefings and assignments and jobs meant she never ventured to see what procurement or events & travel were up to.

Their floors were nice. Cleaner than the asset investigation and recovery ones that Kitty was used to, with their equipment rooms and gear scattered about on everyone’s desk.

They finally came to a decision, after a week of learning the layout of floors Kitty had never intended to spend much time on. It was somewhat mutual — part kindness and part contract. She wasn’t being let go. She was, at least officially, stepping away, of her own volition. Still, with the rather unpleasant circumstances surrounding her resignation, Gringotts was offering her a healthy severance package and waiving the need for a prolonged notice. She was not being blacklisted or turned away. Kitty was told that she would be welcome back when she was actually ready to work — and she was inclined to believe that. Gringotts had as much of a distaste for lies as it did for redundancy.

It was a more generous deal than Kitty knew she would have gotten from a lot of other places. A more generous deal than some of her former co-workers had gotten upon their exit. That knowledge did not make any of those meetings less bittersweet.

Still, no farewell hand shake could last forever. Kitty was given a date and time by which she should come back to drop off any Gringotts owned equipment, and pick up any personal items from her work station. She had half a mind to stretch the deadline and cling onto the last of her time there — she ended up almost doing it, too. The final date was August 2nd, 5PM. On an early afternoon, August 1st, Kitty found herself walking into Gringotts Wizarding Bank as an employee for the last time in the foreseeable future.

She took her time. Kitty wasn’t going to be embarrassed to be a little sentimental. She chatted with the person taking and logging her equipment; made sure to visit every coworker that wasn’t out that day. There were less of them than she would have liked — plenty jobs to go around, as always. She stepped in to say bye to her supervisor one last time and promised to keep in touch. After plenty of condolences received for the nth time and a while spent on leisurely conversation, though, people had to get back to work; and Kitty had a desk to pack up.

There wasn’t much there, enough to fill a single box. She never spent enough time doing the little paperwork her job required to personalize it too much. Small lamp, a few framed photos. They took an embarrassing amount of time to put into the box she’d brought. Staring back at her were faces anywhere from blurry to familiar. Ilvermorny classmates, some of whom she barely talked to anymore; uni friends she remembered telling that she would eat her own shoe if she ever managed to land a position at Gringotts; herself and the Merrick family. The last items Kitty placed gently into the box were a plain wand case, forever unused, and a small cactus — both exemplary of how little time she actually dedicated to sitting around here.

She looked out at the empty surface of the desk and felt a quiet sigh escape her. She could be back. Maybe she would be in just a few months. Time would tell. For now, there was no more reason to linger. If Gringotts clockwork-like precision was anything to go by, they probably had an intern picked out to take her position already. Hogging what would soon be someone else’s desk was rude.

Well, then. With intent to keep at least one hand free and levitate her things along, Kitty reached for her pocket, searching for her wand—

Empty. Right.

Kitty had recently made the decision to retire her old wand. Part of it was the week of meetings that had suddenly appeared in her calendar — the feeling of changes incoming, ones she knew did not involve being allowed back into the feeling. Most of it was that it had started backfiring way too often. Her favorite kettle had melted last time she tried to make tea, and nonverbal spells were basically impossible to perform. The friend she was commissioning for a new one said it could take up to a month. Kitty wasn’t used to just not having her wand, however broken, with her. She stood there for a few seconds, staring at her box. She could just carry it, of course. Do things the muggle way for once.

Kitty was torn out of the brief musings by the sound of her coworker — and former neighbor, at least in terms of desk space — clearing his throat. “Wand still in repairs?” he asked, head tilted with a sympathetic smile.

She shook her head. “No. Getting a new one after all,” she replied. She felt a pull to cling to the conversation, however short. Try and draw it out, maybe. The mechanism was hard at work. Masterful clockwork, all redundancies successfully reduced. The last seconds of her time here were ticking by, and she felt each of them somewhere beneath the scarring crawling up the right side of her neck.

“Going to Ollivander’s after this, then?”

She shook her head again, searching for something interesting to say. Nothing came. “Custom made, actually. Uni friend,” Kitty gave a vague upwards nod, smiling at the thought of Cerise. The coworker gave a low whistle.

“Severance treating you well, I see,” he chuckled, and Kitty couldn’t help but return it. He stood from his desk, giving her a pat on the shoulder before moving away. “I’ll get someone to help you bring it down.”

“Thanks.” She smiled.

She didn't protest as her friend disappeared into the maze of corridors, not feeling the need to insist she would do it herself. Kitty leaned back against her desk, glancing at the objects once again. She felt air along with something else swell beneath her ribs, looking at the smiling faces of everyone in the photos, and had to tear her eyes away from them as a deep exhale left her lips. It wasn’t like the path back to Gringotts was closed entirely, and it certainly wasn’t like she was losing those people or the smiles in the photos. She would take them with her to her next post.

Wherever that would end up being.

★ ───────────── ★ so, until the next time / it's farewell, and not goodbye

The half-giant fixed his tie and straightened the sleeves of his jacket. They were slightly too short for his size. But then again, most things with sleeves were for him. It was a hard thing to get right. Or at the very least he had not found a dresser that nailed his measurements. Which was not entirely true, since he simply had not been looking for any help in that department. His grandfather was the one who insisted on being presentable. Hugh was fine just showing up for work in his usual shirt and trench coat. While his grandfather commended his tough appearance from time to time for the benefit it gave of making his family look strong, he always clarified to Hugh that Gringotts was a fine establishment that deserved attention to detail and status.

Last night had mostly been routine patrols and only one drill with the younger trainees such as himself. It seemed like the summer heat kept everybody in a slow mood. Not that any warmth from the outside could ever reach the cold abyss below Gringotts Bank. He kind of liked that about it though. Kept him alert in the brisk cold cavern breezes, rather than getting sleepy in the lull of summer air.

He was ready for some sleep now though. After a long and rather uneventful night shift, he said his goodbyes to Findel and Bromley. The latter was likely off to drink himself into tomorrow while Findel practically lived at the bank. His entire family was tied to Gringotts' affairs one way or another. Hugh had just clicked his locker shut and made for the hallway door when a man approached him.

"You're Lowe, right?" He asked with a direct tone. Hugh's eyebrow arched upwards before remembering his manners and nodding back in acknowledgment. "Since you're on your way out, would you mind lending a friend of mine a hand?"

It had been unknown to Hugh that he had either the reputation or looks of a good Samaritan. Though the young wizard allowed his eyes to look where the stranger was pointing. He had not been to the Curse-Breaker offices. He had not really been anywhere except for where he was told to go. Considering his other option was to struggle through the first twenty minutes of brushing off Bromley's requests to join him in the Leaky Cauldron, Hugh finally graced the stranger with a reply. "Very well, sir. Where do you need me?"

He could not really hide the disappointment he felt when he realized he had been chosen to be some "chick's" personal luggage carrier. Clearly he would have made a terrible butler. Still, despite his tiresome shift, he managed to scrape together what goodwill he had left for the day. He straightened his back to the full nine feet and approached the sad lady waiting by her desk. "Apologies to disturb you, miss." He interrupted as softly as his deep rumbling voice possibly could. "I was asked to help out where I can?"

The giant was unsure if he should say anything more than that. It was not as if he had been informed of the situation. Gathering by the packed box of miscellaneous objects, he could not help but fear the worst for the little lady. His eyebrows would helplessly droop down to a worried look on his face. "Are you alright, miss?"