One of the problems, they'd discovered, was that the Mudbloods still had access to their vaults which made it far easier for them to attempt to flee. Stupid idea, running away, but then again Mudbloods were animals anyway. They'd be hunted down eventually. Some were listening, at least. They'd convicted Cresswell that morning, in fact, and he was on his way to Azkaban at that exact moment.
That was a heartening, at least, and he was in rather high spirits as he strode into Gringott's. They were giving him the runaround, saying that it was impossible for them to hand over the vaults because of the magics on them. Rubbish, in his opinion. They employed cursebreakers, after all. A quick look at the list of employees showed only a few cursebreakers left. They'd employed a large number of Mudbloods, apparently. Weasley was off the list being a blood traitor, and the others were old and off their game.
That one, though, was a possibility. He snapped his fingers, ordering a goblin to fetch the witch. When she stepped into the office, he turned around.
Well, this might turn out to be far more pleasant than he anticipated.