“It won’t open on thirteen unless no other floor is pressed,” explained Xenophilius.  Luna sighed with relief.  By law, the thirteenth floor of all tall buildings in the U.K. was reserved for the exclusive use of Wizard-related businesses.  Goblins were in control of the entire elevator industry.  Obviously they designed their products to keep Muggles from accidentally seeing the Wizarding Floor.

Xenophilus’ fingers produced an envelope and he said, “I almost forgot this.  You’ll need it once we arrive.  Don’t give the receptionist your real name.”

“What do I tell them?” Luna asked, but just then the doors of the elevator opened onto the thirteenth floor.  Luna paused for a moment, taken by surprise, then walked into the reception area of Gringotts International Headquarters.

It was a large, round room decorated in the most ostentatious manner imaginable.  Real gold panels covered the walls.  Thick raised borders around the panels were baroque-carved scroll work encrusted with gems of great size.  Each gold panel held the carved image of some renowned goblin of the past.  The carvings were inlaid with gems and precious metals, giving them an appearance similar to that of stained glass.  “Goblinlay,” her father’s voice whispered.  The coffered gold ceiling was similarly ornate in the extreme.  The floor was a sheet of copper polished to a mirror finish.  Luna was thankful that she wasn’t wearing a skirt.

In the middle of the room was a large statue.  The central figure was a tall, tunic-clad goblin standing before an anvil.  Well-muscled bare arms grasped a smith’s hammer above his head, poised to strike.  “Weyland Smith, in Corinthian bronze”³ came Xenophilius’ impressed whisper.  Behind him on one side was a smaller goblin wearing a more concealing tunic and cradling an infant.  Luna supposed that this was a female goblin, judging by the lack of whiskers on the chin.  The gobliness gazed toward the smith adoringly.  On the other side, an even smaller goblin was bent over the bellows.  He was also gazing up adoringly at the central figure, and was slacking in his duty as a result.  “That’s Flibbertigibbet,”⁴ offered her father.  All of these figures were exquisitely detailed.