AN – Here is the rewrite of my Power of the Mind story. There were a few things in the original that I wasn't happy with and there have been a few additions. Overall it's had a clean up and hopefully the grammar and format has improved slightly. I am not sure whether to delete the original or leave it online so if anyone has any thoughts then I'd welcome them.
General Disclaimer for the whole story following – I do not own Harry Potter, I'm just playing with the characters for my own, and hopefully your, enjoyment.
As always read, review and most importantly, enjoy.
The new millennium was supposed to be a fresh start, a time for hope, a new dawn for mankind. For the Potters it started off just that way, their first son was born on 31st of July 2000 and for a while life was great, despite the war they were a part of. However just as it all started falling apart in the Muggle world in September of the following year things took a turn for the worse for the Potter family.
It was Halloween 2001 when Voldemort came to the Potter household and tore the family to shreds. The perfect family was gone. Whatever hopes and dreams James and Lily had for their son for the new millennium were swept aside alongside so many others. Parents who would have to bury their children. Sons and daughters who would never see their parents again. Far from being a new dawn for mankind, the new millennium was more of the same. Anger, pain, suffering and death. About the only things the Magical and Muggle worlds had in common to be honest. But our story doesn't start here, not really. For that we need to head further into the future, to see the Potter firstborn once he has matured, tempered in the fires of adversity. This is his story.
Harry James Potter could feel the blood pounding in his ears. He didn't think he had ever been this angry before in his life. It was as if every little bit of frustration and torment that had been inflicted upon him had built up and was finally released. He watched as the already sizable frame of his Aunt Marge continued to inflate as it worked its way out of the house, bouncing off the ceiling, before it reached the open conservatory door.
He felt no regrets. He knew he should, but he simply didn't. He tore through the house towards his pitiful excuse for a room, intent on grabbing his few possessions and getting the hell out of this bloody house. He grabbed the few clothes that vaguely fit him and stuffed them into his trunk. Then came his most important items, hidden under a loose floorboard; the invisibility cloak that was his father's and the photo album given to him by Hagrid. They were the only connections he had to his long since departed parents and therefore highly treasured by him. All that was left to collect was his various pieces of magical equipment; luckily the majority of this was permanently in his trunk so that his paranoid and magic phobic uncle wouldn't confiscate it.
Once it was all packed away, with the exception of his wand which he tucked in his pocket before thinking better of it and holding it out in front of him. He headed downstairs cautiously, expecting Vernon to have some sort of nasty surprise for him. He wasn't disappointed as when he turned the corner from the bottom step he spotted a meaty fist heading towards him from out the corner of his eye so he promptly ducked. The bellow of rage mixed with the crunching impact told him that while he had escaped, the wall had not been so lucky.
"You put her back; you put her back this instant." Vernon screamed at him through the pain, spittle hitting Harry in the face.
Bringing his wand up so that it was pointing in Vernon's face he let loose some more of his anger. "No she deserved it, she deserves that and more. Now if you don't want me to curse you, you're going to get the hell out of my way right now."
Vernon cringed at the sight of the wand and the mental dilemma was clear to see, he desperately wanted to hurt Harry but he didn't want to risk getting hit by any 'freakish spell'. Before any decision could be reached Harry stormed out of the house into the clear night sky and started walking, or rather marching, as far as he could from Number 4 Privet Drive.
It was only once he reached the play park that he started to cool off a bit and began to wonder what kind of situation he had got himself into this time. Looking at it objectively, he had little to no money on him, no place to stay and carrying a trunk and a bloody great birdcage with a Snowy Owl in wasn't exactly inconspicuous either. The lessons of the last two years had been learnt the hard way and Harry now knew that rushing in without a plan was the way to get yourself killed. In fact if hadn't been for Fawkes, the events in the Chamber of Secrets would have killed him. After his experiences with the Ministry last year where Dobby's hover charm caused him to get a letter about underage magic, he was sure that this time he was now going to be expelled, even if he didn't use a wand. Minor details like that didn't seem to matter overly to the department responsible for monitoring underage magic.
Mentally shaking himself out of the dark thoughts that were threatening to engulf him at the prospect of being expelled from the only place he had ever been able to call home. First things first, he needed a place to stay and for that he needed money. He had some; probably enough for one night somewhere giving him the chance to get to Gringotts to take out some more money from his vault. He did consider going to the Leaky Cauldron but dismissed that almost immediately as he would very quickly be recognised there and be turned into the Ministry. No, he was much better off going into Muggle London; it would be cheaper and there was far less chance of him being recognised.
Decision made. However that did leave the slight problem of how he was going to get to London in the first place. A noise behind him made him turn sharply with his wand raised. Just as he was about to scan the undergrowth for any threat there was a bang behind him that caused him to topple over his trunk.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard, I am your conductor, Stan Shunpike." Harry stood up and looked at the pimply and gangly youth in front of him.
"Can this go anywhere?" he asked.
"Sure can, 'cept for underwater, can't do nuffing underwater."
"Can you take me to the Strand in London please" Harry remembered one of the roads that led off of Charing Cross where the Leaky Cauldron was. He figured this was close enough to the entrance to Diagon Alley as to be easy to slip inside but far enough away that he was still unlikely to be recognised. Although knowing how insular and isolated the Magical world was, being anywhere at all in the Muggle world would allow him precious anonymity.
"That'll be 12 sickles please, 14 if you want a toofbrush. What did you say your name was?"
"I didn't" said Harry as he handed over the 12 sickles and headed towards a seat.
The journey was quite possibly one of the most unpleasant of Harry's short life. The bus weaved and dodged through traffic at blinding speed with no seeming concern for the passengers. They were all thrown around so that when they finally reached Harry's stop he was covered in bruises. How on earth that woman had slept through the ordeal he would never know. Thanking his lucky stars that he had made it to his destination in pretty much one piece, he exited the death trap and gave an incredibly false farewell to Stan. However Stan didn't seem to understand that Harry would happily never see him or his damn bus again.
Stepping out into the clear night air, Harry breathed in deeply, the sense of freedom hitting him for the first time. He knew full well he still had a long way to go to properly attain that status but he had made a positive step towards it. Thinking about it made him feel good, he had always been self reliant, having had no choice in the matter thanks to the Dursley's, but this was a whole other level. Ah well first thing's first he thought, somewhere to stay for the night. To this end he started walking up The Strand, scanning each side of the road for any suspicious people that could be magical as well as somewhere cheap to stay.
After a five minute walk he spotted what he was after, a small and slightly dirty looking building with a flashing sign outside that read 'vacancies'. Several of the letters didn't work and the whole place looked thoroughly unappealing but Harry figured it was for one night only and he was only going to sleep so what the hell. He walked in purposefully, with far more confidence than he actually felt, and headed to the front desk that was currently occupied by a bored looking teenage girl with large headphones, blue hair and a nose ring. Harry had never seen anything like this, the magical world being conservative to say the least, and he was intrigued. So much so in fact that he realised he had been staring at the nose ring and not paying attention to the girl.
"Oi are you listening to me runt? Do you want a room or not?" her voice was sharp but not exactly harsh.
"Sorry, spaced out for a minute there. How much is a room?"
"£15 a night for a single. That don't include breakfast or any of that crap mind you."
Harry looked in his wallet and assessed the contents. "I'll take a room for two nights please." He figured this would give him more than enough time to consolidate his position and visit Gringotts to get some more money and move in somewhere slightly more appealing.
"Here you go squirt." She said handing him a key with a number three on it. "By the way nice…owl." She rolled her tongue over the word owl and smirked obviously hoping to embarrass him.
Harry simply smiled back, took the key and replied "nice nose ring."
Feeling he had done quite well out of the exchange he turned away without seeing the girls reaction and started walking in the direction of a sign directing him to room number three. It was only a short walk and on finding the room he opened the door and walked in.
A polite way of describing it would be basic. However Harry really wasn't expecting anything different and as far as he was concerned it was a pretty nice room, a darn sight bigger than his old cupboard. The day's exertions catching up with him he dumped his trunk, let Hedwig out and collapsed on the bed, quickly falling asleep with all his clothes still on.
Waking the next day Harry stretched out his stiff muscles. It seemed £15 a night didn't get you a particularly comfortable bed. To be fair though sleeping with all his clothes including his shoes still on couldn't have helped matters. He looked at the old digital clock next to the bed, seeing it read 8.26am. Or at least that's how he interpreted the number; it had several bars missing in some of the numbers.
Harry walked over to the sink, a bathroom also outside the realms of a £15 room, and splashed water onto his face. He looked up into the mirror and this is where a problem hit him. He had got away with Stan not recognising him the night before but it was clear for all to see that Stan wasn't exactly the pinnacle of intelligence. There was no way Harry could make it all the way through Diagon Alley to Gringotts without some interfering busybody recognising him. He stared at his reflection trying to find a way around this problem before a brainwave hit him.
He headed to the front desk hoping that this would work. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the same blue haired girl lounging at the desk with her headphones on. Walking up to her he waited for her to remove her headphones and took a deep breath.
"I have a slight problem and I was wondering if you could help me? It's going to sound a little bit odd but I hope you will be able to help." She simply quirked an eyebrow at him waiting for him to continue. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'd like you to dye my hair, something bright that isn't black and..." he paused steeling himself, the idea had seemed such a good one in his room "I'd like to borrow some of your clothes." Her mouth had dropped open fully now and Harry could see exactly what she was thinking, before she could unleash the verbal tirade that was building he carried on quickly. "No, not like that, I mean just some clothes that could pass for boy's clothes. I'm not explaining myself very well am I?"
"Not even slightly squirt so you better get explaining and quickly before I get angry and, guest or not, you really don't want to see me angry."
"Well you see I've kind of run away from my Aunt and Uncle's house and I need to go get more money. I have a bank account you see from when my parents died but I don't want to be recognised by anyone. My Aunt and Uncle have a lot of friends around here so if I get spotted they will try and take me back and that's not going to happen." Not bad he thought he almost believed some of that himself, maybe because most of it was true in a twisted sort of way.
She looked at him suspiciously "I know that isn't the whole truth but you know what I don't really care. Oh I believe you're a runaway, seen enough of them come through here to recognise that but there's more. Don't worry I said I'd help you, plus I'm training to be a hairdresser so any willing victim is welcome." Her eyes glinted at this making Harry wonder what on earth he had let himself in for.
Looking around and seeing nobody she hollered "MUM I'm helping a guest so I can't watch the front desk you will have to do it." Hearing a faint response she shrugged and grabbed his hand and dragged him out the back to the staff area, plonking him down in a chair. "I'm Rachael, your hairdresser for the day and what can I do for you today sir?" She curtseyed mockingly.
Fighting back a laugh Harry replied "I'm Harry and well I don't really know what I want, definitely need to dye the hair to a different colour but other than that I'm tempted to leave it up to you although I'm not sure I trust you" he said the last part with false suspicion.
Rachael laughed, "don't worry I won't do anything too bad. Now how do you feel about Mohicans?" Seeing his face she laughed again, a rich throaty sound, "I'm kidding, now if we want to hide you we are going to need to cover up that scar, while it is pretty awesome it's also very distinctive."
"Don't I just know it" Harry muttered.
"Ok I have the perfect idea but we will deal with colour first. Now since you have such dark hair we are going to have to bleach it blonde first. We leave that for a little while and then we dye over the top of that with whatever colour you want. May I suggest a bright green to draw attention away from those lovely eyes of yours?" Harry blushed and nodded his acquiescence. "Excellent I'll get started then."
The next few hours passed in a blur for Harry, chatting to Rachael about everything and nothing, as well as a lot of time about music. Rachael was scandalised when Harry couldn't name his favourite band or even anyone he liked so she had taken it upon herself to educate him. Her taste was wide and varied, everything from the mellow and relaxing reggae of Bob Marley to some speed and death metal bands whose names quite frankly scared him. I mean what sort of band calls themselves Cannibal Corpse for crying out loud? Harry found that he did actually enjoy quite a lot of it, particularly some of the less extreme metal bands, and came away with a new appreciation.
Throughout the whole process Harry found he was forbidden from looking in the mirror, he had tried to argue against this but Rachael never seemed to really listen. Therefore once Rachael announced she was done butterflies were well and truly making a nuisance of themselves in his stomach. "OK Rach I'm ready let's have it." With a flourish she revealed the mirror and Harry was gobsmacked, the image before him looked nothing like it had this morning. It was for one thing, a toxic green colour and sort of spiked up all around apart from the front where it was slicked down, sweeping over one eye and coincidentally, or maybe not, right over his scar.
"Its a bit of an emo style but to be honest with the slicked down bit over one eye its perfect to cover you up. All you need now are a few different clothes and nobody would have a clue who you are. What do you think of it?"
"I like it, I love the colour. It's certainly different, nobody would recognise me now." He turned to Rachael, "Thank you so much you're an excellent hairdresser, so can I borrow some of your blokey clothes?"
"Yeah come on let's see what we can find."
Reaching her room Harry paused at the door not sure if he was allowed in. "Come on you daft sod I can't let you borrow any of my clothes if you don't come inside." Harry laughed and walked in eying the messy room with all the walls covered in posters of bands that he had heard just this morning as well as one entire wall filled with CD's.
Rachael was already over at the closet flicking through and muttering to herself. Every so often something would be thrown in the general direction of the bed. Harry simply sat down to wait, knowing already it was pointless to try and interrupt her.
Finally there was a pile that Rachael deemed sufficient and she walked purposefully over to him and started eying him up and down. "I don't think I have any jeans that would fit you so unless you're up for wearing a skirt..." Harry shook his head vigorously, no. "Well then do those jeans you have on have any sentimental value? Because if they don't our best bet is to rip them off at the knees, get you a big old pair of boots, a band tshirt and stick a hoody on top. Sound like a plan?"
Harry nodded his agreement and soon found himself with his already tatty and ripped jeans even more ripped, just below his knees. He had put a Parkway Drive tshirt on, after making Rachael turn around, having really got into their music downstairs and was left choosing between a Metallica hoody and a Pantera one.
"Just pick one, what are you a girl?" Rachael had clearly lost patience with the clothes selection process. Harry grabbed the Metallica one and picked up the biker boots that had been presented to him. They were a bit big so he let Rach know he was going to his room to pick up another pair of socks to fill the inside of the boots out a bit more.
Once he reached his room he went straight to his trunk and rummaged around for a pair that wasn't too foul when he came across something that made him laugh out loud. His invisibility cloak. He could have just worn that and not had to go through all this effort. He silently cursed himself for being a daft sod again. But once he thought about it he realised he had had more fun this morning than in a long time, so it was by no means wasted. Plus he would have had to have taken it off in Gringotts in order to talk to a goblin. Knowing his luck that would have been when all the Aurors on duty for the day just happened to be inside the bank. An acceptable pair of socks was found and so the boots were on and the ensemble completed. Harry looked at himself in the mirror, assessing his new look. He liked it, he wasn't sure about the hairstyle but he liked the clothes and the new colour of his hair. He resolved to try if possible to stay in Muggle London so that he could get away with having a hairstyle that didn't have to cover half his face.
He made his way downstairs after putting his wand in the baggy pocket at the front of the hoody to say goodbye to Rach for the day. She was at the front desk with an older woman Harry assumed was her mother. "Alright Rach I'm off out now I'll probably see you later on if you're still around." Turning abruptly he exited the front door hearing Rachael's mother ask her if Harry was her boyfriend, shutting the door just in time to hear her indignant squawk.
Chuckling to himself he ambled down the street in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, ignoring with practised ease the stares and looks he was getting from passersby. He even laughed out loud when a middle aged couple walking towards him took one look and crossed to the other side of the road. This was the life he thought, the easiest way to be left alone. Course he still got the stares but this was far more entertaining than the hero worship he normally got.
The Leaky Cauldron itself looked just the same as it had when Hagrid had brought him there in first year. Walking purposefully through the door he ignored everyone in there including Tom the barman. He didn't want to take any chance of anyone recognising him, and made his way to the entrance to Diagon Alley. Tapping the bricks in the right order with his wand he watched as the Alley revealed itself with all its hustle and bustle. As it wasn't such a new experience, Harry wasn't staring around at everything like a gawking child but there were still a few things that captured his interest such as the large crowd of people around Quality Quidditch Supplies. Shaking off the urge to go and have a look himself he snaked through the crowds towards Gringotts.
The entrance was still one of the most impressive things Harry had seen in the Wizarding world including the warning poem on the doors. Striding to an open teller Harry waited until the goblin looked up. "Greetings, I would like to make a withdrawal from my vault. Is there a way I can confirm my identity in private?"
The goblin looked at him over the desk, suspicion etched onto his face. "And why would I want to do that?"
Harry looked around him and saw nobody close or watching him so he discreetly shifted his hair to reveal his scar. The goblin's eyes widened slightly "hmm interesting, know this young sir, if you are lying about your identity, the goblins will take great pleasure in punishing you." His eyes shone maliciously at this.
"OK then follow me." The goblin, Snagtooth as he introduced himself, led Harry to an office.
As Harry walked in he spotted a goblin behind the desk he recognised, "Griphook it's good to see you again."
Griphook looked confused at this, "Do I know you?"
Before Harry could respond Snagtooth cut in, "that is what we are here to determine Account Manager. This boy claims to be Harry Potter and asked me to verify his identity in private. He accepted that if he wasn't who he said he was that the goblins could punish him."
Where Griphook's face showed confusion before it now held disbelief "Mr Potter is that really you?" Harry nodded. "Well you certainly have changed haven't you? Well to confirm your identity all you need to do is to prick your finger with this knife and let a droplet of blood fall onto this parchment." Harry looked fascinated by this and did not hesitate to let a drop fall onto the parchment.
After a few seconds the blood started to writhe around like a snake and formed first into letters and finally into coherent words.
Name - Harry James Potter
Parents – James Charlus Potter and Lily Marie Evans
"So it is indeed you, what can I do for you Mr Potter? That will be all Snagtooth I will call if you are required." Snagtooth bowed and retreated from the room.
"Well firstly please call me Harry, Mr Potter makes me think I'm about to get in trouble." Griphook nodded for him to continue. "Well let me give you a bit of background, I trust this will all stay confidential?"
Griphook nodded again "Certainly Harry we at Gringotts are bound to keep our customer's dealings secret."
"Excellent. Yesterday I left the care of my Aunt and Uncle after I somewhat inflated another Aunt so that she may have ever so slightly floated away." Griphook burst into laughter at this, it wasn't a pleasant sound but Harry figured it was better than silence. "Having already had dealings with the Department of Underage Magic for something that wasn't my fault I decided it was better to get out of there before I did something worse and got expelled. I am assuming from the fact that I didn't receive a letter straight away that I haven't been expelled. Last time the letter arrived immediately."
"I believe that is correct Harry, if you did not receive a letter then we must assume you are not expelled however I sense there is more to the story."
"Yes well I don't really want to be found by anyone, if they do they will just send me back to the Dursleys" he shuddered at this "I hate it there and after Aunt Marge, well I think I'll be lucky to reach Hogwarts alive."
"Surely you exaggerate a little bit, they can't be that bad Harry?"
Harry didn't say anything; he simply looked at Griphook, weighing the options up. Coming to a decision he removed first the hoody and then the tshirt before slowly turning around to reveal his back.
Goblins are a warrior race and as such Griphook had seen a lot of wounds that resulted in impressive scars however he had never seen anything like the back of Harry before. It was a rippling mass of white and shining scars that crisscrossed and layered on top of each other so much in places it was raised by over a centimetre.
"My Uncle started off with a belt but after the age of six he figured it wasn't making enough of a point so he moved onto a switch, a length of wood. I figure if it wasn't for my magic I'd have probably died before I reached Hogwarts. Course being beaten bloody and then being mostly healed by the next day was yet more proof of my freakishness, proving Vernon right and making him beat me more. Bit of a viscous cycle really." Harry was emotionless during this; his normally shining emerald eyes were dead and lifeless.
Griphook half raised a hand as if he wanted to touch the scars before putting it down quickly realising that the gesture could be misinterpreted. "I can't believe it, I would like to ask if those were real but that's more because I don't want to believe they are. How can this have happened? Even amongst goblins you are famous how could you have been treated this way?" Harry simply shrugged and started to put his shirt back on. "Harry" Griphook's voice was soft, almost compassionate, "I will talk to my Chief about this, I may be able to persuade him to get some of our top healers involved. If all goes well they will be able to remove all of those from your back. I make no promises but I will do everything in power does that sound good to you?"
Harry raised his eyes from the floor for the first time "you would do that for me?"
"Certainly. Now if only we had access to your parents wills then we would know for sure but I can't imagine they would have wanted you to go to your Aunt and Uncle's if that was the result."
"What do you mean my parent's wills?"
"Well since Halloween, when you defeated Voldemort, the wills of your parents have been sealed by the Ministry. No goblin knows why or who exactly did it and we lack the power to gain access to them. All I can tell you is that you have access to your trust vault and there is the family vault you can usually access at age 17. In the absence of wills we assume that everything goes to the next of kin which is you, so whatever bequests that your parents made have been ignored. This is not necessarily a bad thing for you as it may mean you get more than you would have before although this does mean that your parent's final wishes are not being observed." Griphook shrugged "there is no legal onus on you to do so but should you gain access to the will, which you should be able to at 17, you can still carry out the bequests as stated by your parents."
Harry nodded to this "in regards to my family vault. You said usually at 17 would it be possible for me to access it now or at the very least take a look around it?"
"There are special provisions set up if you are the last member of a family line, which you are. These state that you can access your family vault from 11 but you can't take any of the money until you are 17. This means that you can take any of the books, paintings, furniture or heirlooms that you wish."
"Can I go and look at them now?" Harry's voice trembled at the prospect of seeing if there was anything from his parents in the family vault.
"You can indeed Harry and while you are doing that I will talk to my Chief about you visiting our healers."
"Thank you Griphook I don't know how to repay you for your help."
"It is unnecessary Harry, now Snagtooth will take you down to your family vault and then to your trust vault."
Harry followed the goblin from the room, leaving Griphook trying to shake himself from his thoughts. It was only a short walk from the office to where the infamous Gringotts carts were kept and the trip was made in a slightly awkward silence. Harry felt like he ought to make conversation, even if it was inane platitudes, but he couldn't think of anything. The trip itself was very similar to Harry's first experience, with many twists and turns, far too many to count. Compared to the location of his trust vault, the cart seemed to be taking them deeper into the cavernous expanse that was the Gringotts labyrinth.
Finally the uncomfortable journey came to an end in front of a pair of large double doors. It looked to Harry a bit like the blast doors he had seen when he had snuck a look at the television when Dudley was watching the original Star Wars. The unlikely duo paused in front of the doors, both looking at the other expectantly. Harry realised at this point that he likely should be doing something but he had absolutely no idea what.
"Umm am I supposed to be doing something Snagtooth?"
"Ah I apologise Mr Potter I forgot that you have never done this before. This is one of our more secure vaults, more secure than your trust vault and as such no key is needed. To unlock the door you must put your hand into the recess there" he said gesturing to an area on the left hand door.
"What will it do?" Harry enquired.
"Well once you put your hand inside, a small needle will release and prick your palm, allowing several droplets of your blood to be recognised by the door. The door itself is attuned to the Potter family and it will be able to recognise if you are worthy of entering the vault. It is purely based on family line so as the last of the line you will have no problems entering."
Harry shrugged and walked towards the door, confidently placing his hand in the recess. He gasped slightly in shock as the needle shot into his palm before retracting along with some of his blood. He removed his hand and watched in amazement as the small hole in his palm closed over. He shook his head ruefully; he really should stop being amazed by magic by now. His attention snapped to the doors as they creaked and groaned, as some sort of locking mechanism that had lain dormant for years released, allowing the doors to swing open.
Harry's heart was beating a brutal tattoo in his chest, he couldn't believe he could well be about to see something from his parents. He held his breath in trepidation as the doors slowly unlocked. What was revealed was a large open expanse of rocky room, interspersed with piles of Galleons, there wasn't really much else. Harry couldn't help but be slightly disappointed by the lack of variety of the contents of the vault, compared to the list given by Griphook of furniture, heirlooms, books or paintings. He realised that he had been hoping that somewhere there would have been paintings of his parents like the ones of the former Heads of Hogwarts in the Headmaster's office. Money he expected, although there probably wasn't as much as was in his trust vault, maybe three quarters that amount. Snagtooth looked a little shocked by this as well.
Seeing his mask slip for an instant, Harry turned to the goblin. "What is it Snagtooth? Why are you shocked by this?"
The goblin grimaced slightly muttering about damn observant humans "it is not that I am shocked exactly Harry, but I expected there to be more in the vault. You see the Potters are an Ancient and Noble House and as such would have accumulated a large number of heirlooms, at the very least jewellery. Traditionally the Potters have always been a warrior family and so I would have expected there to be armour and weapons in here as well. Why this isn't the case I have no idea. Perhaps the reputation does not meet up with reality, without looking at the actual accounts I have no idea."
"Would it be possible for you to do that then? Look at the accounts I mean? I realise there should be enough money in here to last me a lifetime but from what I've heard from some of my classmates it seems like there should be more. I'm just not sure I trust the Ministry not to have plundered something."
"I can't look at the accounts Harry; I am not senior enough however Griphook should be able to. In fact the Potters should have their own Account Manager but at the moment I'm not entirely sure who that is. I can find out for you though."
"That sounds good" said Harry absently, beginning to wander around the vault. He stopped in front of a trunk that looked worn but still expensive. It had some sort of crest on the lid but Harry couldn't make out what it was. "Can I look in here Snagtooth?"
"Of course you can Harry, it's your vault after all."
Harry nodded and knelt to open the lid. Inside was a collection of leather-bound books. Picking one at random, he looked at the cover to see if there was a title. There wasn't so he opened it to the first page and on the inside cover there in elegant script was his father's name and under that was written "journal year 5." Harry sucked in a deep breath, there were 30 of these books in the trunk, were they all his father's? Deciding that whoever had written them they would be well worth investigating, he replaced the book where he had pulled it from. He stood up, trying to work out how he was going to get the trunk all the way back to his hotel. Snagtooth provided the solution though.
"I believe if you touch your wand to the crest it will shrink the trunk to a manageable size, small enough to fit in your pocket and will cause no damage to the contents. Do not worry about being underage, this is not actually doing magic, it is an inbuilt function of the trunk."
Harry nodded gratefully and shrunk the trunk before placing in it in his pocket. "Can we go to my trust vault now? Unless there is some way of getting money out without having to physically cart all the money around with me?" Harry looked questioningly at his guide.
"Well Gringotts does make pouches available to customers, for a fee of course. These pouches link directly to a vault and allow you to withdraw however much you desire in either Muggle money or Galleons, providing of course it does not exceed the total available in the vault."
"That sounds great, how much will it be for one of those?"
"You will have to discuss that with Griphook. If there is nothing else do you wish to return to his office now?"
"That would be great, thank you Snagtooth"
"Not at all Harry" surprise once more flitted across the goblin's face at receiving thanks. "I believe that you are going to do great things for the magical world." Harry looked taken aback by this statement before smiling genuinely at Snagtooth.
The journey back to Griphook's office seemed much quicker to Harry for some reason, perhaps it was his imagination. Walking slightly unsteadily from the cart's speed, they made their way into the office through one door just as Griphook came through the other. "Ah excellent timing Harry. You will be pleased to hear that I have spoken to my Chief, Ragnok, and he has agreed that you need to be seen by a healer and under the current circumstances it would be best if you saw a goblin one. Is this alright with you?"
"That's fantastic Griphook, it's so much better than merely alright." His eyes shone with pure delight.
Griphook chuckled "if only all of your kind was as trusting towards us as you. Most wizards would never consent to having 'filthy animals' use their magic on them."
It was Harry's turn to laugh "well I think we can safely say I am not most wizards. When would I be able to visit the healer?"
"An appointment has been set up for you tomorrow morning at 9am. We don't know how long it will take to heal you properly so it would be best to have as much of the day as possible. Simply come up to the desk and ask for me and I will escort you inside. Was there anything else Harry?"
"Yes actually Snagtooth mentioned about pouches you provide that are linked to a vault. Would it be possible for me to get one of those?"
"I think we should be able to manage that Harry, it will however be 10 Galleons." Harry nodded his agreement to this and so Griphook reached into his desk pulling out a handsome black pouch. "I need for you to put a drop of blood onto the pouch just here so that I can tie it to you and you alone."
While he was in the process of letting a drop of his blood fall on the pouch Harry spoke up again. "Snagtooth also mentioned that the Potter account should have its own manager, do you know who this is?"
"Unfortunately I do not however I can make enquiries if you wish?"
"Would it be possible for you to take over from whoever it was? It's just that you are someone I know and trust whereas I've never met whoever the manager is at the moment."
"That is certainly possible Harry and I must say I am honoured that you have chosen me."
Harry waved away his thanks embarrassedly "it's nothing Griphook; I think you are the best person for the job. Would it be possible for you to have a look through the accounts and see if everything is in order? Snagtooth seemed surprised at the lack of content in the family vault so could you look into that please?"
"I will do just that Harry and should have everything ready for you by the time you return tomorrow morning. All I need from you is your signature here, authorising me as your new Account Manager. This is a blood quill so it will hurt when you sign but will heal almost immediately so there is no need to worry."
Harry signed the parchment happily, grimacing slightly when the quill cut into his own skin. He fervently hoped he wouldn't have to use that damn thing too many more times. "Thank you for all your help today Griphook and I'll see you tomorrow morning at 9."
"The pleasure was mine Harry, until tomorrow."
Harry slid the pouch into his pocket alongside his trunk and made his way out of Gringotts. He was tempted to go shopping in the Alley but his curiosity over what the journals contained won out and so he made his way through the crowd, ignoring the stares, back through the Leaky Cauldron and to the hotel.
Just as he was coming through the entrance he heard a scream from his left and the sound of breaking glass. He whirled immediately, wand pointing towards the possible threat.