"How did we get here?" I asked.
"Portkey." said Hagrid who had picked up his umbrella and was tapping an odd colored brick on the wall which caused it to open up into a large street filled with shops that looked like something out of the 16th century. Hundreds of people in various colored robes and pointed hats were walking up and down streets, and in and out of shops.
"A what, " I asked again?
"They'll be time enough for that later 'arry, we need to head to Gringott's. I've got some 'ogwarts business there as well. Mission from Dumbledore. He trusts me with important stuff like that. Takin' you to get yer things, fetchin' things from Gringott's.
At that very moment, a tall thin wizard with a turban walked out the back door, looked at Hagrid and froze for a moment.
"Ah, Hagrid. P-P-Pleasure to see you here." the man stuttered.
"Professor Quirrell. Nice to see you," Hagrid smiled.
"What are you d-d-doing here," Quirrell asked?
"Just taking 'arry to get his school things," Hagrid winked in my direction.
Quirrell gave a start and seemed terrified as he looked slowly in my direction, his eyes as wide as saucers.
"P-P-Potter. W-w-what a lovely surprise," he said and began to wring his hands.
"'arry, this is Professor Quirrell, he's yer Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year at 'ogwarts, " said Hagrid.
I offered Quirrell my hand, but he withdrew his hands closer to his chest, and shrunk away from me.
"What brings you here Professor, " asked Hagrid?
"Oh, me? Oh. Yes. I am here to g-g-get a new book on v-v-vampires. Yes, just out, very new," Quirrell replied. He looked the type to run in terror if he ever met a vampire in real life.
"Oh, can I have the title, I was hoping to order some extra reading material" I asked, pulling out notebook and a pencil from my back pocket?
"Oh, yes. Um. The title, " Quirrell asked again?
"Yeah, I'll look for it," I replied, the pencil hovering over my notebook.
"The Brotherhood of Blood, by a Japanese wizard. Yukizaki or something, well, I must be off, good to see you Hagrid, Mr. Potter, good-bye, " he said as he rushed past Hagrid as fast as he could.
"Blimey that's the strangest one so far" said Hagrid, shaking his head. "There's a new one every year at 'ogwarts. 'fraid the good ones 'ave come and gone now. But see 'ow famous yer are. Even Quirrell was tremblin' to meet ya. Well, lately he's always tremblin'. Brilliant man, so's I hear. Least he was when learnin' from books. Took a year off to travel, hasn't been the same since. Seems he had a run in with some vampires in the Black Forest, or Albania or summat."
After our strange meeting with Quirrell, Hagrid guided me to Gringott's, a tall white stone building, almost a fortress really at the end of Diagon Alley. The building was so tall, I was amazed people didn't see it from the street and ask all kinds of nosy questions. The street was filled with stalls selling various wares interspersed with shop fronts. The sun glistened across stacks of Cauldrons, the sign read - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self Stirring - Collapsible.
"Yup, you'll be needin' one of those, but first, we need to get yer money." said Hagrid, gesturing to the large white building. "Gringott's. Safest place in the world to put something. 'cept 'ogwarts o' course. Run by Goblins you see. Don' never cross a goblin." He added.
"Goblins, " I choked slightly?
As we mounted the steps and approached the entrance I saw one for the first time, short, thin and wrinkled with wide eyes and long pointy but horizontal ears. He was wearing a uniform of red and gold, a top hat and standing next to him was a large pike with a nasty looking point.
"Yeh, thas' a goblin. Like I said, don' cross 'em. Goblin' blades absorb magic, anything you shoot at 'em. Anything powerful, makes 'em stronger yeh see."
I noticed his long fingers tipped with thick sharp looking nails, talons really. His feet were longer than you'd expect for his short height, the tip of his hat was about level with my chin. He bowed as we passed the through the first doors of shining gold to a second pair of doors of polished silver. And on them was written a message:
Enter stranger but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take but do not earn
Must pay most dearly in their turn
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours
Thief you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
"Stark ravin' mad to try an' rob it." Hagrid added as I finished reading the inscription.
As soon as we walked in, Hagrid approached the nearest free goblin.
"Mornin', " said Hagrid. "We need to get 'arry Potter 'ere access to the Quill and let him check his vault."
"You have his identification?"
"Ah, got it right here" said Hagrid rummaging through his coat pockets once more, scattering a handful of dog biscuits all over the goblin's desk. The goblin's face showed his disgust as he began to brush them over the side onto the floor, but they never touched it, they just poofed out of existence.
"Found it," said Hagrid, holding up a small little key.
The goblin looked it over closely.
"This seems to be in order."
"Oh, and before I forget," said Hagrid quickly, "I've got a letter from Dumbledore," he continued, puffing his chest out proudly, "about you know what in vault 713."
The goblin read the letter slowly.
"Very well, " he said as he handed the letter back to Hagrid, "Griphook will take you to both vaults, then you may return for Mr. Potter's ritual."
"What's you-know-what in vault 713?" I asked innocently.
"Oh, can' tell yeh that 'arry, " said Hagrid with an air of mystery, "very secret. 'ogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
Griphook was a dapper young goblin, fresh faced and eager looking. He gestured for us to come towards him, took my key, looked it over, and took out a small lock from his vest pocket and inserted the key. He turned it and the room faded out, like a really blurry camera image and then back. It was dark and cold and we were standing in a large circular room with thousands upon thousands of tiny doors from floor to ceiling. We set off after Griphook in a direction only he understood, as we approached the wall, one of the doors began to grow bigger and the ones surrounding it smaller. By the time we arrived the door was normal sized. On the door was written: Godric's Hollow. Griphook turned the knob on the door. We walked through into a large hallway, and then on down the hall for several minutes.
There were no doors, only bare rock walls. Finally Griphook stopped, turned to the wall and stroked it. A doorway formed in front of him, and we passed through it into my family's vault. Light began to grow brighter as torches around the small room ignited and flickered in a breeze that wasn't there. The vault was as large as a small bedroom and it was filled to the brim with all manner of strange things. On the right side, in the back was a pile of wizard money. Such a pile I had never seen, except perhaps in a pirate movie. Galleons and Sickles and Knuts galore. Hagrid passed me a small draw string bag, "fill it up so you can have a bit of spending money." I took the bag and filled it with a several large handfuls of galleons and sickles. Then I grabbed a handful of Bronze Knuts and dumped them in the bag. I looked inside the bag, and to my surprise they had collected together into piles of each, well separated.
"Yeh don't need too much 'arry, you can always get more out once you have the Quill, " Said Hagrid.
"The what?" I asked.
"You'll see, let's get a move on, " said Hagrid, gesturing for me to follow him. I wanted so much to stay and look at all the different things. I wanted to explore everything, and see what my parents had valued. As I was walking back towards the door, I tripped on a small worn and shabby leather suitcase. I bent down to pick it up and realized there was a letter attached: To Harry, for school.
I picked it up quickly and then followed Hagrid and Griphook back out, back to the circular room. There we took another direction, and the door that appeared said: High Security.
Griphook took out a large key from his coat pocket and opened the door. The hallway was vast and tall, almost as tall as a sky scraper, and made with white marble stone. As we walked down the hall, I noticed the walls were carved floor to ceiling with horrific scenes of death and war, dragons burning people alive, people being impaled, flayed, and many other things I couldn't even name at such a tender age. Griphook noticed my looking and grinned wide.
"It is a fine education along these walls," Griphook's face suddenly lost expression, "all the worst things one creature can do to another. The very worst."
I noticed that many of the carvings depicted goblins, being tortured, being killed. Some had goblin families, hiding or fleeing in terror. Some had Giants. Some Wizards. Sometimes they were the victims, other times the victimizers. A great feeling of sadness washed over me. A tear started to come out of my eye, and I began to cry and not even know why. I looked up to see Hagrid bawling for all it was worth. Even Griphook had a pained expression.
"It is called the Hall of Tears for a reason, " said Griphook, " created by goblins over a thousand years ago as a memorial place. It has accumulated every sad and horrific deed done in the wizarding world."
Griphook removed a spyglass and looked high on the walls up to the vaulted ceilings. "There, " he pointed towards a part of the ceiling far ahead and handed me the spyglass. I looked where he was pointing. I could barely make out what I was seeing, but it was of a group of wizards, it looked like they were holding sticks with lightening streaming out of them, and other wizards and goblins and many creatures, dying. Then a small house. A cottage, but it was all rubble.
"Yours, " said Griphook in a whisper.
We continued down the hall to the very end, and stopped before a tall door. Griphook began to stroke the door oddly, fast, and slow, from different angles. Finally it melted away.
"If anybody but a Gringott's goblin were to attempt it, they would be sucked through the door. And trapped inside."
"How often do you check to see if anyone's tried, " I asked.
"Once every 10 years, " smiled Griphook.
I had expected to see a vault filled with treasure and wonders. Instead, it was a small room, and inside on the floor, a grubby little package wrapped in newspaper and tied off with twine. Hagrid seized the package and quickly disappeared it into one of his many pockets.
"Griphook, " I asked, "does the wall run out of room, for showing horrible things?"
"Often, " he said, "too often, when it runs out of room, it starts again."
"Okay Griphook, let's get outta 'ere huh, " Hagrid wiped a tear away from his eye, "this place gives me the willies."
Back in the main hall of Gringott's, Griphook escorted us to a room off to the side with a small table with two handprints on them. I put my hands there, and Griphook started drawing strange signs in the air with his finger, they lingered where his finger had been for a moment and then slowly fell towards the backs of my hands. They burned slightly as they touched my skin.
"It is done, you have the Quill, " said Griphook.
"Right. Uh. What is the Quill, " I asked?
Griphook explained that carrying around money was dangerous, especially gold, it was also damned inconvenient. Instead I was being issued a Quill. Not a literal one, what it meant was that in shops, all I had to do was sign the bill and the money would automatically be transferred from my vault to that of the seller. He explained that the Quill means that my signature would now carry a magical key, not just any signature, but one with the intent to pay. He said that so long as I had money in my vault, enough to pay, I could sign with intent. However, if I didn't have the money to pay, I wouldn't be able to sign.
"Like a credit card, " I asked?
"If you mean to compare a mindless piece of muggle plastic to one of the most complicated pieces of Goblin magic ever invented, then yes " he said curtly, seeming almost insulted for anything at Gringott's to be compared to a muggle institution. I would later learn about the pride of Goblins, well earned, and their natural distaste for wizards, also well earned. Since muggles are in their eyes beneath even a wizard, it's doubly and insult.
"Can people steal my signature, " I asked?
"No. Nor can you be forced to sign against your will. We will know. We always know, " Griphook trailed off.
As we were leaving, I suddenly remembered to ask Griphook if I could have an account summary. He waved his hand in the air and a thin leather bound book appeared. He gave it to me and I tucked it under my arm.
Hagrid and I stepped outside into the fresh air.