Chapter 3 - Gringotts

(Word Count: 3,239)

It was only 2 weeks after getting his second level, that Harry was left alone with Mrs. Figgs. The Dursley’s had left for some holiday trip or something. He wasn't really paying attention. He was just too excited about enacting his plan. They would be gone for 5 days!

"We'll be back on Sunday, so you behave yourself, Harry."

"Oh, Harry's an angel, Petunia. He'll be no trouble at all. Such a sweet little boy," Mrs. Figgs said. Petunia's eye twitched, visibly trying to refrain from rebuking the idea.

"Very well then, goodbye." Petunia stood off across the street to where Vernon and Dudley were waiting in the car. When they turned out of sight, Mrs. Figgs ushered him inside.

To describe it, he would have to say that it was very stereotypical of the old cat granny. All of the furniture had crochet doilies on their backs. There were cat scratch posts in every corner, and yet the bottoms of every couch were clawed to pieces. Just in the living room alone, Harry could count 4 cats.

The air throughout the house was very musty and smelled of cat hair. 

In his previous life, this would have been suffocating due to his cat allergies But luckily allergies didn't transfer with his soul.

Not wasting any more time, he turned to Mrs. Figgs. She herself was a petite old woman, with curly gray hair she kept under a crocheted beanie. She always wore a thin sweater over a simple dress. She was a bit hunched, leaning on a wooden cane. She was the only one who treated Harry with kindness, though she did seem to space out sometimes. She usually just let him watch TV as much as he wanted.

"Mrs Figgs, I know that you're a squib from the magical world. I know that I'm a wizard. I know about Dumbledore, my parents, you-know-who, the war, all of it."

She was shell shocked, and seemed to fold in on herself even more. She looked at him, eyes wide. "W-what?"

Harry held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "It's okay. I guess you could say I had a magical vision that told me about the Wizarding world. I want to go visit Diagon Alley in London, but I'm too young to travel on my own. I wanted to know if you could take me."

"N-no! They don't like me there. D-dumbledore should know about this." She murmured.

"No! Don't tell Dumbledore anything. I just want to visit Gringotts and take some money out. I can even pay you a lot for you to keep this between ourselves and for your trouble to take me. How does 20 galleons worth in pounds sound?" That was about 100 pounds. 

"100 pounds?" She hesitated. "What do you even need the money right now for?"

"Well, I want to buy some nice clothes for myself." Harry gestured to his current hand me downs, which were two sizes too big for him. The size disparity would only increase as they got older. "And I also want to access my family vault to see if there's any mementos left by my parents. Pictures and stuff like that."

Her eyes immediately softened and even gained some tears. She still looked a bit fearful, but she agreed. "Well, alright then. I suppose one trip wouldn't hurt."

Harry beamed. "Yes! Thank you!" He hugged her.

"Are you sure you don't want me to tell Dumbledore about this? I'm sure he could guide you through Diagon Alley much better than I could."

Harry thought about it. He wasn't really scared of Dumbledore. In the books, he was a good man. Manipulative sure, but good. He went through great lengths for a chance that Harry would survive his next killing curse to destroy the horcrux. There was all that stuff about wand lore and making sure Voldemort never got ownership of the elder wand, and making sure Harry got a hold of the resurrection stone, and his theory of his mother’s protection in the blood Voldemort took from him. Magic also runs on intent, so selflessly accepting death could have played a large role in OG Harry’s survival.

He gave Harry every possible chance he could. He even gave up several months worth of his life in order to save Draco Malfoy and Snape by letting Snape kill him. Sure he was dying, but to give up the time he had remaining wasn't something just anyone would do. He was just an old man doing the best he could in a horrible situation. There was no known way of removing horcruxes after all.

That didn't mean he wanted the man to have access to all his memories. Dumbledore did, after all, have severe trust issues and overlooked many things, including Harry’s own happiness. He was also trying to hold down 3 full time jobs, trying to do too much on his own and as a result Harry could only say he was grossly incompetent in all three.

"I'm sure, Mrs. Figgs. I don't know the man personally, and you've been the kindest person I know. I wouldn't want anyone else to be with me on my first trip to Diagon Alley."

She smiled warmly. "You really are the sweetest angel. Come on then the next bus leaves in," she checked the time. "10 minutes. That should give us enough time to get to the bus stop."

Together they took the bus to the train station, where they got on the metro to London. Another bus ride later, and they were just down the street of the leaky cauldron.

Harry could already see the totally nondescript black building. Wizards. As they approached, the blank sign hanging above the door changed to show a witch stirring a leaking cauldron. Before they went in, Harry pulled down his baseball hat further down to hide his scar.

"Remember, in there my name is James, not Harry."

"Yes, yes. I understand." She was visibly scared about entering. She must have had a bad experience in the Wizarding world.  

"You know, you could wait in a nearby Cafe or park. I'll be just fine on my own."

She gulped. "A-are you sure?" 

"Yes, I've done plenty of shopping on my own before. I'll be fine. I'll meet you here in around 3 hours? That should give me time to do all my shopping."

“Alright, 3 hours. If you need me for anything, I’ll be in that cafe over there.”

“Okay, Mrs. Figgs. I’ll see you later.”

Harry turned and entered the pub. It was a dinghy place, dark and grimy. Which didn't make sense, because it should be a simple task to clean stuff with magic. There was a large center table that spanned the open space. On either side were alcoves hidden behind a row of stone columns that offered private tables. At the far end was a huge fireplace, big enough to walk into. In the back right corner, he could see a set of stairs that led up stairs, and a large gothic style window. In the back left corner was the bar, lined with stools and a hallway, likely leading to the bathrooms, kitchen, and possibly the entrance to the alley.

The people in the pub were all dressed in the typical wizard's garb, robes, pointy hats, etc. Harry did receive a few curious glances, but when they saw it was just some kid, they ignored him.

He went up to the bar, where Tom was wiping down a glass. By hand, why? He has magic. "Hello, sir. Could you help me with the password to enter the Alley?"

Tom leaned over the counter to get a better look at him. He beamed at Harry, with rosy cheeks. "Not a problem at all, not a problem." He came around the bar, from a door off the side. "Though if you don't mind me asking, where are your parents?"

"They didn't come with me. I'm supposed to meet up with my friend's family at Fortescue's. We heard about some new toys at zonko's, you see, and wanted to try them out together."

As he talked, Tom led him down the hallway, to the brick walled entrance to the Alley.

Tom put on a reminiscent face, "Ah, Zonko's. Good times." He took out his wand and tapped out some bricks. "Well, have fun. But try not to give your parents too hard a time."

"Thank you, sir! I'll try not to!"

As he watched Harry leave, Tom chuckled to himself. "What a polite kid."

Harry excitedly took in the sight of Diagon Alley. It was a beautiful crazy mishmash of buildings, all colorful and at weird angles. They had a rustic, classical, farmers market, and retro diner vibes all put together on the same street. There were crowds of people walking the streets, kids running window to window of the candy shops and a quidditch store. In the distance, where the Alley split into two streets, was the huge white marble building of Gringotts Bank.

Not wanting to waste any time, Harry immediately went there. He passed Flourish and Blotts, Madam Malkins, and all the stores he's seen in the movies. Harry was feeling over the moon to see these in person. He wanted to stop at flourish and Blotts when he saw all of the books in stacks, but he didn't have any galleons on him.

He reached the bank, staring up at the tall crooked building. The front had two sets of columns going all the way up to the top. Above the doorway, was a small poem that warned off any would be thieves.

Entering the bank revealed the shiny marble floor, dark rich wood, and glistening gold chandeliers. The whole building reeked of opulence. At the tills, goblins were stamping papers, and dealing with clients. Harry went to an empty till. The desk was way too high for him to even see over. The goblin there leaned over the desk to stare down at him.

"May I help you?" The goblin asked, sneering a bit, showing his pointy teeth.

Harry cleared his throat. " Greetings, teller, may your vaults overflow with gold and your enemies be crushed beneath your feet."

The goblin was weirded out. "What in the devil are you talking about, boy? If you are only here to play games, then leave now. I will not have my time wasted."

Harry turned bright red. 'Those crappy fanfics lied to me!' "No, sir! I'm sorry, someone led me to believe that was the proper way to address a goblin. I didn't mean any disrespect." He took off his hat and showed his scar. "My name is Harry Potter and I wanted to inquire about my account."

This time, the goblin’s eyes widened. “Well then, you would need to speak to your accounts manager. Go wait by that back left door. I will meet you there.”

The goblin descended out of Harry’s view. Harry looked to the corner the goblin pointed at, and walked over. There was a single guard standing next to the door, not a goblin but a wizard. He was wearing what looked like a police uniform but with the gringotts bank’s seal on his chest. He made brief eye contact, so Harry gave him a polite nod. The goblin then exited from behind the row of tills.

“Good! Now, follow me.” He led Harry into a long hallway of meeting rooms. They stopped at one. “You may wait in here while I fetch your account’s manager.”

Harry entered the room. It was a simple, yet elegant sitting room, with two couches around a coffee table sat in the center. The corners of the room each had a small corner stand, with a vase. They gave the room a cozy feeling. He took a seat on one of the couches.

He didn’t have to wait for long before another goblin came in, holding some folders. The goblin greeted him. “Good morning, Mr. Potter. My name is Noggrap. I’m your accounts manager. I have to admit, Mr. Potter, I wasn’t expecting you for another 4-8 years.” Noggrap took a seat on the other side of the table, and began setting out his folders.

“Yes, I would have waited longer but my home situation made this a necessity. I wanted to learn about my financial situation, as well as make a few investments while I'm here.”

“We can go over your current bank statements and what assets your family has, then we can look at what sort of investment portfolio you would like to start building. But first, we must verify your identity.” Noggrap took out a small silver dagger, and a small metal plate that had a griffon on it. “Please prick your finger with the dagger. It is enchanted to only let 3 drops of blood bleed from the wound, then heal. Let the blood drop onto the plate. If you are truly Harry Potter, it will briefly glow. If not, then we’re done here.”

“That’s fair enough,” Harry said. He took the dagger and did as told. As Noggrap said, after the third drop, the wound closed. The plate did glow, making Noggrap grin.

“Excellent,” he said, and vanished both the plate and the blood. “Now we can continue.”

Noggrap opened the first folder, took out a couple of papers and handed them to him. “Here we have a summary of the trust vault, your family’s main vault, a list of properties and assets, and the last few pages cover the itemized list of the items held in the vault. Most of it includes the items recovered from the wreckage of your parents' deaths.”

Harry took the papers, but hesitated. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but aren’t you concerned about my age?”

“While you are under the care of your magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore, he ultimately has no say over the Potter family vaults. Only you have that power. We don’t care how young you are, you are the last remaining Potter. As such you may spend your money as you please. We don’t even send him any of your monthly bank statements. Until now, we had no idea where you were, and our owls weren’t reaching you, so we weren’t sending you any. Though if you wish to assume the mantle of Lord Potter, you would have to deal with the ministry when you reach majority.”

“Well, thank you.”

Harry looked through the summary.

James and Lily’s personal Vault: A sum value of 50,000 Galleons,12 Sickles, 5 Knuts

Main Vault: 1,729,815 Galleons, 107,953 Sickles, 27,077 Knuts, miscellaneous items.

Properties: The Potter Ancestral Manor, 21 Church Street which is the Godric’s Hollow house, a beach house in Italy, a store front in Diagon Alley, and a potions shop in Hogsmeade. The patents to the Sleekeasy potion, Skele-gro potion, and the Pepper-up potion.

Investments: 5% Quality Quidditch Supplies, 2% Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. The Potters used to own some other shares in some bigger potions companies but with the only survivor being Harry, they were seized by the other shareholders due to "incompetence" or something.

Unfortunately, it looks like the Potter Manor was destroyed and looted during the war. The Godric’s Hollow house, which was apparently gifted by his grandparents to James and Lily on their wedding, was also blown up and left as a sort of memorial. The store fronts and the Italian beach house were okay though.

For monthly incomes, both the store fronts in Diagon Alley and the potions shop in Hogsmeade were being rented out to others. There was a monthly income of 300 galleons from the Diagon Alley shop, and 200 galleons from the Hogsmeade shop. From the Sleekeasy, Skele-gro, and Pepper-up patents, monthly income ranges from 2,000-5,000 galleons a month, depending on the sales around the world. Investments would range anywhere from 2,000-8,000 a month for the Quidditch store, and 1,000-4,000 a month for the quill shop.

Monthly expenditures include taxes for the properties, totalling to about 8,000 galleons a year. There were also about 500 galleons a year being donated to a scholarship fund to help muggle born students. Then there's a 10 galleon monthly fee for the Gringotts services. Surprisingly, there were about 5 galleons being spent on food every month. 

The main vault also included many items, mostly household items and furniture that were taken from either the main manor or the Godric’s Hollow house. What did catch his attention were the set of Hogwarts books, likely from his mom’s years at school, the photo albums, and the personal diaries of his parents, and their wands.

Harry pointed to the food expenditures. “Do you know who’s buying food?”

Noggrap nodded. “Your family’s house elf, Tripsy. She comes in to withdraw some money for food and her necessities. Normally, this would be taken care of by the Potters, but she has been on her own since your grandparents died.”

Harry was stunned. “I have a house elf?”

“You may try to call her, if you wish. I’m sure she would be glad to know you’re safe.”

Harry cleared his throat before tentatively calling out, “Tripsy?”

Immediately, there was a pop beside him. An old house-elf popped into existence. She was wrinkled and hunched, with huge green eyes, big pointy ears, and a long droopy nose. She was dressed in a pillowcase as well, as all the other house-elves he’s seen in the movies, but it was a clean white. When she saw him, she burst into tears and tackled his legs in a hug.

“Oh, young master Harry! Harry is alive! Tripsy is so happy you’re safe!” She cried in a grandmotherly voice.

This was the first time in a long while since anyone’s been so happy to see him, so Harry couldn’t help but feel touched. He liked Tripsy immediately. Bending down to give her a hug, he said, “It's okay Tripsy, I’m okay.”

"Young Master is so kind to Tripsy. Tripsy is reminded of mistress Dorea. She was so kind to Tripsy as well."

Harry smiled at her. "Well, I still have some business here to attend to, but maybe afterwards, you can tell me some stories about my family? I never really got to know them."

Tripsy's tears came back in full force. "Tripsy would be honored, young master Harry sir!"

"Where are you staying, if the manor was destroyed?"

"Tripsy's been living at the beach house, young master Harry sir."

"I see." Harry thought about it. He really wanted to just move to the beach house right now. But he would make a huge panic if he just up and left. That didn't mean he couldn't spend his free time there. It would be a great place to practice his spells. "Tripsy, would you mind preparing the master bedroom for me? I think I will be spending a lot of time there from now on."

She scrubbed at her eyes to wipe away her tears, then looked up at him, beaming. "Right away, young master! Just give Tripsy a call and Tripsy will come right away, young master Harry!"

She popped away.

Harry took a deep breath. It was a little strange for someone calling him "Young master". He turned back to Noggrap. "Right, sorry for the wait. Where were we?"