I don't own HP

Bahamut sat in his room at the leaky cauldron with a bemused smile on his face. He played the events of the last few days over again in his mind. All starting when his "letter" from some magic school in the highlands arrived. Toadwarts or some such nonsense.

The day itself was highly unremarkable in its normality. For him it was another day in the hell that was the last few years. It changed when he got the mail. He threw it at the pigman and thought nothing of it until the pigman started screaming about "freakishness". After that they went on "vacation." the letters seemingly following them wherever they went, until they landed an old lighthouse on the anniversary of this body's death. Then a huge half giant came bursting through the door demanding to see him. This had led to even further amusement when he gave the pigson a pig tail. He grinned at this notion. It seemed the fates had a sense of humor after all, old bitchy crones they may be. Shortly after that he had taken him here. To this "diagon alley" place.

This had been an unexpected boon to him. The moment he stepped foot into this place he had almost passed out. He had felt like a man dying of thirst suddenly being drowned in an ocean. Before he was barely able to pull what scraps of ambient magic was in the air into himself. Most of it whent to keeping himself alive. Now, he was pulling it into himself at an unbridled rate. This significantly dialing forward his timetable of getting his body back.

Better still was when the half giant had taken him into the goblin nations bowls to get gold out of his "trust" vault. The moment he saw the gleaming pile he nearly fainted again. All of his dragon instinct told him to go sit on top of his little hoard and kill all those who came close. He almost did to, when the half giant had scooped a hand full of the glimmering coins into a bag. Never noticing the snarl that had made its way onto the Bahamut's face. The goblin did though, to its infinite amusement he was sure.

The real amusement came when it was time to get his wand. The little stick things the wizards used to channel their magic. The wood man, ollivander was a very eccentric wizard. He smelled of death and varnish. The varnish part being from the wands. the death he was quite sure was from the fact the man wasn't really a man at all, but an old gnarled tree spirit in fleshy disguise. They were not a particularly a strong sort but they lived exceedingly long lives. He figured the old spirit had maybe a good hundred years left in him if he was lucky.

The actual process of selecting a wand was a trying and boring process. Most of them either flying out of his hand or exploding when they tried to connect to his draconic core. The old tree being outright shocked when the phoenix feather wand burst into flames before turning into ash in his palm. He left muttering after that and the half giant started to worry. He returned with a white runed box. Taking the white wand from the box and handing it to him. A yellow glow had surrounded him. The wand had "chosen" him. Which bemused him greatly. Fourteen inches, dragon bone with a basilisk fang core. The Old tree said he made it a few centuries back, an experiment in wandlore he said, and never found an owner until today. Something about it trying to kill most of the humans who tried to wield it.

After that, the half giant had taken him to get his robes fitted. During the fitting he had an interesting encounter with a small blond human. Draco something. He rather liked the boy. He had an arrogance around him that Bahamut found amusing. Oh how humans liked to throw their names and titles. It was amusing… well as amusing as an ant mouthing off to a god could get.

After that the half giant had dropped him off at the inn in front of the ally. Looping right back around to his current state of amused reminiscing in his tiny inn room. Deciding that now was a good a time as any to make a visit to the goblin sanctuary bahamut rose from his bed at the inn. Stretching his arms above his head enjoying the myriad of pops his spine and shoulders made. And started making his way out of the inn.

he left the inn and started walking towards the goblin stronghold. There wizards were fools for thinking it was a bank. Please, he mused. You don't have archers holds and disguised ballistas as decoration. Though he did take a few minutes to gaze at his surroundings as he made his way towards to the home of the entire goblin nation. The shops that lined the street were a welcome change from the hell of his, (was youth even the right word?) humble beginnings. Their bright colors and entrancing displays made him smile. historically he may have never been that big of a fan of the humans but he couldn't fault them on all that they'd accomplish on their short time in this world.

Reaching his destination he nodded his head at the two guards that stood at the front of the bank and walked into the stronghold head held high and made his way to the teller. The fat ugly thing didn't even look up from his work as he approached. "I need to see my vault please."

"Key?" the gnarled creacher stuck its hand out expectantly.

This annoyed bahamut. This ugly little creature not even acknowledging him. Well to be honest he wouldn't have either in his current form. "I'm afraid the half giant took it with him yesterday. I'll need to have another one made or the original retrieved."

The goblin looked at him with what was probably no small amount of disgust. "Name?"

"Potter" bahamut stated flatly. If he was honest with himself he had only really found his bodys name out a few days ago. The pigman had almost exclusively referred to him as "boy" or "freak."

"One moment" the goblin hopped off his little pedestal and (walked?) wadelled back to behind the counter. A few minutes later he waddled his way back out. "Nailteeth will see you now.

Nailteeth? Who in the frozen hells is Nailteeth. He followed the goblin back behind the counter and down several flights of stairs. Coming to a large door labeled accounts. As well as sever names listed below. Potter, Malfoy, Bones, Greengrass, Nott and several other he didn't care to read.

The goblin, Nailteeth, looked up from his desk as Bahamut walked in. "ah, Mr. Potter. I've been wondering when you would finally come see me. We here at gringotts consider it very rude to when we get no reply when we make the effort to make several inquiries." placing its gnarled hands in front of it. Seemingly so out of place amongst the golden knick knacks scattered around his desk.

"Inquiries?" he arched his brow. "What inquiries?" he sat down in front of the old goblins desk in one of the high backed leather chairs obviously placed there for those much larger than the creature that was currently regarding him as one regards rotted meat.

Nailteeth gave him a sharp look. "I take it you never received our letters concerning your inheritance?"

"No." Bahamut crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair. Regarding the goblin much the same as he was. "I was unaware i even had an inheritance until just a few days ago. Even then, i was unable to properly examine the vault as the half breed had made an effort to deny me access by taking my vault key with him."

The goblin narrowed his eyes at him, not being one to back down Bahamut leveled his stare at the creature. The goblin slammed his book shut, startling the old wyrm. "Follow me, Mr. potter."