Turnstile Jumper 2
The Mirror of Erised had a large crack running down the center of it. On the right side, he saw a dark haired boy standing on a dragon, wielding a sword; while on the left he saw... Karen in a wedding dress while he wore a tuxedo. He didn't see who the groom was but that wasn't the important part. The important part was the fact that she was clearly happy.
Kenny's eyes lingered on Karen's smiling face for a moment before he turned away. He knew what his greatest desire was, in his last life and in this one, so none of it came as a big surprise.
A drop of liquid metal dripped from the crack in the mirror, turning into a bottle cap as it hit the ground. Kenny picked it up and suddenly knew how to tie a Windsor knot properly.
Apparently the mirror was the remains of Voldemort's horcrux, Harry having taken the soul fragment with him. The litter scattered about the parking lot was Voldemort's memory and power, slowly leaking out of the mirror.
Kenny wondered what he should do about it. Voldemort no doubt had skills and knowledge that would be invaluable in his new life, but he knew not all knowledge was useful or even safe to know.
Before he could come to a decision, he was shaken awake by Hagrid.
"Mornin', Harry. Ready for some breakfast?" the gentle half-giant asked cheerfully.
"Morning, Hagrid. I could eat a horse with some ketchup," Harry replied cheerfully.
"I just got some tea and biscuits with me," Hagrid admitted. "Tom at the Leaky Cauldron might have some and we can just make it in time for breakfast if we hurry."
"Sounds good to me," Harry agreed, letting things follow his memories for the moment as the two made small talk and he got Hagrid talking about items sold in Diagon Alley, so he could have an excuse for knowing about them and buying them later.
Harry considered it idiotic the way his older self had ignored the possible uses of magical items, both in the magical and mundane worlds. Anyone with half a brain could see the potential in using magical items, which pretty much limited it to a dozen people tops in this world.
"Hey, Hagrid?" Harry asked as they left the cabin.
"Yeah, Harry?" Hagrid replied as they climbed into the boat, Hagrid being careful not to tip it over.
"I haven't been fed right and I'm a lot weaker than I should be for my age," Harry told him.
"The food at Hogwarts will sort you out right quick," Hagrid assured him. "Wizards don't need a lot of strength, they got magic."
"I know, but just to boost my self-confidence a bit, do you know anyone who has Re'em blood for sale?" Harry asked casually.
"I suppose I know someone who might have some," Hagrid allowed. "A bit pricey though."
"I don't need a lot," Harry assured him. "At my size it wouldn't take much."
Hagrid chuckled. "You got a point there."
They traveled the muggle way through London and Harry spent most of the trip explaining things to Hagrid, who didn't spend a lot of time in the muggle world, and doing a much better job than anyone ever had before, if Hagrid's expression was anything to go by. He seemed amazed at everything Harry said.
"... but most cabbies know at least one or two hookers they refer their customers to, usually getting a kick back and at least a hand job out of the deal, which is why cab prices are usually pretty reasonable," Harry explained as they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.
Hagrid was so stunned at Harry's explanation that he didn't clue Tom (the barman at the Leaky Cauldron) in to who Harry was, so they ate a late breakfast in peace without a crowd of people bugging them.
Harry was a quarter of the way through his steak before he realized it wasn't beef, but horse didn't taste half bad so he continued eating. "That was a good steak," Harry said once he finished it.
"Never had it before, but it was good," Hagrid agreed. "We're here earlier than I thought we'd be, but everything should still be open."
"Be nice to poke around a little and get my glasses fixed," Harry said, tapping the beaten-up and taped-together pair he was wearing.
"Best go to Gringotts first then," Hagrid said. "That way you've got the money to pay for your stuff."
They exited the back door of the Leaky Cauldron and Hagrid tapped a sequence of bricks in the dead end alley behind it to open the portal to the Alley proper.
Despite having old Harry's memories of the place, Harry found himself gazing about in wonder, much as old Harry had the first time he'd seen it. However, unlike last time, he was going to take advantage of the place.
"Gringotts is run by goblins," Hagrid explained. "Nice enough people as long as you deal with them honestly."
"Better than most bankers then," Harry said as they walked down the alley like a toy boat behind a cruise liner, the early morning crowd parting around them.
"Bit hard to follow what they mean at times," Hagrid admitted, "and they get a mite upset at having to explain things more than once. Not big on politeness or delays."
"Gotcha," Harry said, pretending he didn't already know how to deal with them as they came within sight of the large silver doors engraved with a poem warning off thieves. "Work quickly and don't use time wasting politeness."
Harry ignored the guards in front of the bank as they entered. "Key?" he asked Hagrid as they got in line.
"Got it somewhere," Hagrid said, patting himself down and going through his pockets 'til he found a small gold key that he handed to Harry.
When they got to the head of the line, Hagrid stepped forward. "Need to see Harry to his vault and I'm on a job from Dumbledore to get the you-know-what from vault 713."
"Key," the teller demanded.
Harry promptly set his key on the counter in front of the goblin, who picked it up and examined it before nodding. "Griphook!" he called out, summoning another goblin. "Vault 687 and then 713." He handed the key to the goblin who turned and strode off.
"Follow!" he snapped out.
Going from what appeared to be a posh bank to a roller-coaster ride designed for 'Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom' amused the hell out of Harry.
"I hate these things. They always make me nauseous," Hagrid admitted as they climbed into the mining cart.
"Close your eyes, plug your nose, and blow 'til we reach the end," Harry suggested.
"Keep your limbs inside until we stop," Griphook ordered as he took a seat in the very front of the cart and pulled a lever, sending the cart rocketing down the track.
When they reached Harry's vault, Hagrid let go of his nose and opened his eyes. "That helped," he said, looking only a little pale.
Harry climbed out of the cart and skipped asking questions as his older self had, knowing goblins didn't like wasting time when he should be getting his gold from his vault. Once in his vault, he made sure to scoop up quite a bit more gold than he had in the original timeline as he planned to spend quite a bit more. He stepped out of his vault scarcely a minute after he entered it. "Let's go," he said.
Griphook closed and locked the vault, returning the key to Harry before hopping in the cart and taking them to vault 713, which was a short trip. This vault took several minutes to unlock and Hagrid was very cautious as he entered it and was mumbling to himself as he carefully walked to the sole item in the apparently otherwise empty vault.
"I noticed the poem on the main doors," Harry said, since they had some time to kill and he wasn't wasting the goblin's time, but Hagrid's. "Do a lot of magics use rhymes?"
"Humans have lost the touch of it," Griphook replied, "but we goblins never have. Poetry is the soul of our magic and makes our wards well neigh unbreakable!"
"I always thought it was just a way to charm yourself into a girl's knickers," Harry admitted.
"Find the right rhyme and it's good for that too," Griphook agreed with a toothy grin.
Harry thought about it for a second and then tried his hand at a quick bit of verse partially based on his encyclopedic knowledge of dirty limericks, not noticing the shocked look on Griphook's face as he finished with: "-it may fold against steel, but your maidenhead will yield, as it's certainly the key to that lock!"
Hagrid stepped out of the vault and wiped the sweat from his forehead, relieved to have successfully retrieved the small leather pouch he had in his pocket, not even noticing the goblin urgently scribbling down something on a piece of parchment. "Glad that's done. I could really use a pint now."
"I could go for one myself," Harry agreed, causing Hagrid to laugh and clap Harry on the back, knocking him flat.
"Ok, two pints!" Harry said from the ground.
Typing by: Ordieth