A/N: Typo fixed 2 Aug 2014 - thanks to anonymous reviewer BMS for noticing that I'd left out a zero on the family vault's contents.

Chapter Seven: First Friday

The next morning, Friday, the Four got up and trained as usual before breakfast. After breakfast, however, they left the Great Hall with Professor Flitwick. From his office they Flooed directly to Gringotts, which surprised Neville and Ron quite a lot. In the face of their surprise, Flitwick just grinned and reminded them of his goblin heritage.

They were greeted in the foyer by Griphook, whom Harry vaguely recognised as the same goblin he'd met when he came here with Hagrid. Griphook seemed notably friendlier now that Harry was escorted by Professor Flitwick instead of Hagrid, and on impulse Harry bowed deeply to the goblin. Griphook grinned hugely and bowed in return, but didn't comment on it. Instead he got straight down to business.

"Mr Potter, you are here to take control of your family's finances. This will take several hours, I'm afraid - there is much to discuss."

Harry nodded, and Griphook continued.

"It is now at your absolute discretion to decide who does and does not have access to your financial information, Mr Potter. We can entertain your friends out here for the duration if you prefer."

Harry shook his head.

"Thank you, but no - we're a team, and we don't separate without a very good reason."

Griphook nodded and ushered them all through a door. They followed him down an assortment of corridors before he pushed open a door and entered what turned out to be his own office. He waved them to seats in front of his massive desk as he settled down behind it and thumped down a thick stack of paperwork.

"You have two vaults here at Gringotts, Mr Potter - your personal or trust vault, and your family vault. Your trust vault is what you saw last time you were here; your family vault is considerably larger. Your trust vault holds a little over 3700 Galleons, or approximately 160,000 of your British pounds. Your family vault holds a little over 70,000 Galleons, or approximately 3.6 million British pounds. Hence your total cash reserves are approximately 77,000 Galleons or 3.8 million British pounds. There is also jewellery, and a modest portfolio of real estate. I'm afraid I don't know how much that is currently worth - valuation is a time-consuming process - but I estimate it to be worth slightly more than the gold in your vaults."

Harry nodded, and then frowned.

"Do I have control over the family vault already? I thought I'd have to be older."

Griphook grinned.

"Under wizarding law, you must be 17 years of age in order to declare yourself head of your family. Under goblin law, a wizard is a full-fledged wizard from the moment he picks up his wand. The Ministry will not acknowledge you as an adult, Mr Potter, but Gringotts certainly will. You will have to sign in blood, but a simple signature on this form here will declare you the rightful owner of the Potter family name and wealth. For all magical purposes you will be the head of House Potter - your only impediment will be your lackwit Ministry, which will not recognise your position for another 6 years yet."

Harry nodded, still somewhat shocked at learning he was even richer than he had thought.

He took up the proffered quill and signed his name, wincing only slightly at the pain in the back of his hand as he wrote. That done, he was presented with the keys to his two vaults.

"You can take direct control over the real estate anytime you wish, Mr Potter, but until then we'll continue to manage it for you - that's generating quite a nice income, actually, and is responsible for a significant portion of the money in your family vault."

Harry nodded, and they all traveled to his trust vault - there was no need to touch the family vault as yet, since the trust vault held more than enough for Harry's needs. As they stood outside the opening door, Harry glanced at Professor Flitwick.

"Professor," he said quietly, "can you think of any reason why I shouldn't keep a reserve of a few hundred Galleons hidden in my trunk at Hogwarts for emergencies?"

Flitwick paused for some time, then shook his head.

"Go ahead then, Mr Potter."

Griphook, who hadn't missed a word of this exchange, wordlessly handed over a large hessian sack. Harry took it and rapidly tossed what he guessed to be a few hundred golden Galleons into the sack, only to be embarrassed when he found he couldn't even pick the sack up off the floor. Professor Flitwick waved his wand and the weight suddenly diminished sharply, and Harry did an odd little dance to avoid falling over after his balance was so abruptly shifted. He succeeded, and could now carry the sack comfortably - the only problem was that it was extremely conspicuous. Flitwick waved his wand again, and the bag shrank so much that Harry could comfortably put it in his pocket. He did so.

"We'll get you a new trunk," said Professor Flitwick, "one with multiple interior spaces. One of them can be full of gold."

Harry nodded, and they left Gringotts. Harry, backing a hunch because he had no reason not to, was careful to bow courteously to Griphook as they took their leave. Griphook returned the gesture, and seemed pleased.

As the five of them walked along Diagon Alley, Professor Flitwick turned to Harry.

"Who taught you how to behave around goblins, Mr Potter?"

Harry shrugged, confused and faintly apprehensive.

"No one. I'm just being polite, and trying not to waste their time any more than I have to. How did I go?"

"Exceptionally well. Very few wizards treat goblins with respect, I'm afraid. The respect you displayed this morning, even more than the wealth you command, has earned you the respect of Gringotts."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but smiled vaguely.

As Harry entered the dim and dusty wand shop, Ollivander looked up in surprise.

"Mr Potter, I wasn't expecting you back so soon! Nor you, Miss Granger. What can I... ah, I see."

He waited until the five of them were all inside and the door was shut, and then went on.

"Mr Weasley, Mr Longbottom. I had expected to see you both before now, but the wands are nothing if not patient. Might I enquire as to the reason for this delay, though?"

Neville and Ron seemed too embarrassed to speak for themselves, so Flitwick spoke instead.

"They hold unmatched wands, I'm afraid - Mr Weasley has the former wand of his brother Charlie, and Mr Longbottom that of his father Frank."

Ollivander looked scandalised.

"Well, that certainly won't do! Molly and Arthur Weasley should know better than that, and Augusta Longbottom certainly should!"

He turned once more to the students.

"Mr Longbottom, if you would?"

Neville stepped forward, looking more uncomfortable than actually nervous.

"Would you mind casting a spell for me with your current wand? Any spell, as long as it won't damage the shop too badly."

Neville shrugged and levitated a box that was sitting on the shop counter, as Ollivander muttered under his breath. After a moment, the old wandmaker nodded.

"That's an unusually good match, for a wand which never chose you - I suggest that you carry it as a spare. Considering the future that lies in front of you, young man, a spare wand is definitely a good idea."

Neville shrank back a little, then straightened up and asked,

"What do you know about my future?"

Ollivander sighed.

"I know little of your future in particular, Mr Longbottom, but it hardly takes a seer to see the coming war or that you will fight in the heart of it. The war is obvious - it never truly ended - but let me explain what I see of your part in it. Your family was attacked shortly after the Potters, another Auror couple with a baby almost exactly your age, and of course the whole world knows what happened at the Potters'. I'm not sure why Voldemort so desperately wanted to kill the infant Harry Potter, although their holding of brother wands now is suggestive, but it's hardly a stretch to see some connection between the attack on the Potters and the attack on your own family. Beyond that, you're the son of two Aurors, effectively orphaned by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Of course you will fight when the war rages once more, Mr Longbottom, of course you will fight. You stand here with Harry Potter and two other students, and the four of you are clearly brothers in arms already, never mind that your first school year has scarcely begun. You and Mr Weasley are both here against the wishes of your families, be it at Mr Potter's behest or otherwise. You stand here on a school morning, escorted by Filius Flitwick - a wise choice of ally, to be sure, but it tells me also that you and your comrades have bent Hogwarts around yourselves in a matter of days. Thus I am confident, Mr Longbottom, that you will fight at the heart of the war. You will go to it, and it will come to you."

Neville stared at Ollivander, wild-eyed and slack-jawed. He jumped at the sound of a voice from behind him.

"Garrick, my old friend," said Professor Flitwick, "it's good to see you again."

"Likewise, Filius, likewise. Drop by some evening and I'll crack a bottle or two of a truly superb mulled mead that an old client gave me not long ago."

Flitwick nodded, and Ollivander turned his attention back to Neville.

Muttering and waving his wand, he cast a series of diagnostic charms on the boy. He made an intrigued noise, cast a few more charms, and then scurried off among his shelves. A minute later he returned, carrying only a handful of boxes. These he set gently on the counter, before handing the first wand to Neville. Neville swished it through the air, but nothing happened.

"I wouldn't rely on that now that you're learning magic, lad - cast a spell with it, preferably whatever you're most familiar with. You'll know."

Neville shrugged.

"Lumos!"

The wand's tip lit up a pinkish white, searingly bright in the dim shop. Ollivander actually laughed.

"Try it with your old wand, boy, exactly the same!"

Neville did so, and the light was still quite bright but no longer dazzling. The pink tinge was slightly stronger than before.

"Excellent, excellent!" said Ollivander. "This new wand is much better for you than your father's, although that will still work in an emergency. Would you like to try again?"

Neville stared at the old man again, utterly dumbfounded.

"I can get more than one? I'll already have two, and I didn't even think that was allowed!"

Ollivander smiled.

"It is unusual, certainly - normally a wizard has only one wand at a time. It is possible, however, and even entirely legal, to possess any number of wands simultaneously. And as I remarked earlier, I believe it prudent that the scion of Longbottom never be caught without a wand."

Neville nodded slowly, and Ollivander went on.

"So, excellent results with this wand. 13 inches, somewhat unyielding, cherry and unicorn hair. Onward!"

Several minutes later, Neville stepped back with three wands and two dueling holsters. His eyes were still somewhat wild, but otherwise he seemed composed. Ron stepped forward.

Ah, Mr Weasley! Hmm..."

As Ollivander started casting diagnostic charms, Ron looked puzzled.

"Mr Ollivander, how could you be sure that Neville was willing to buy two wands? I mean, wands are very expensive."

Ollivander smiled, then called over his shoulder as he strode purposefully into his shelves.

"Like yourself, Mr Weasley, Mr Longbottom is a comrade in arms to Harry Potter. Not that the Longbottoms themselves could not easily afford a dozen wands for Neville if they so chose, mind you, but I assume with some confidence that Mr Potter will be paying for everything today. The Potter fortune could quite comfortably pay for my entire stock; Mr Potter no doubt wants you all fully equipped and is willing to pay for it, and your presence here on a school morning in the company of Filius Flitwick makes me quite confident that Mr Potter has at least some control over his finances already."

Ron nodded as Ollivander returned with a small stack of boxes.

"Please cast "Lumos" with your current wand, Mr Weasley. Ash and unicorn, I believe, and 12 inches?"

Ron nodded.

"Lumos!"

The wand's tip glowed steadily, but not as brightly even as Neville with his father's wand. Ron looked embarrassed but said nothing. Ollivander frowned slightly, but said nothing as he handed Ron the first wand.

"Lumos!"

The light was nearly as bright as Neville with the better of his two new wands, but it had a distinctly reddish tinge. Ollivander nodded.

"Mr Weasley," he said, "listen to me. First, excellent, that wand is a good match for you. Second, and more important, you should not be angry with yourself for wielding less magical power than do your friends. With this new wand, you are far more powerful than a normal child of your age - your friends are extraordinary, even more so than yourself, and you should never feel bad about that."

Ron stared at the old man once more.

"How did you know that? Any of it?"

Ollivander smiled.

"You cast the spell correctly with your old wand, Mr Weasley, but you were embarrassed by its lack of power. With the new wand you overpowered the spell, seeking no doubt to compensate - that's why the light was somewhat reddish, you know. I know from direct comparison that Mr Longbottom's magic is more powerful than yours, albeit not by a very great margin, and I would be surprised if either of you could match Mr Potter for raw magical power. I know little about Miss Granger's magic per se, but her very inclusion in your fellowship speaks highly of her."

Ron nodded uncertainly, while behind him Hermione blushed.

In the end they all left with new wands; each had two wands properly matched, and Ron and Neville had their mismatched wands besides. Each of the Four had the properly-matched wands ready to hand in dueling holsters on their forearms, charmed invisible to all but the wearer. Harry did indeed pay for everything before they left, barely even noticing the amount of gold he was handing over.

As they approached the public fireplaces to Floo back to Hogwarts, Harry turned to Flitwick.

"Professor, how do you come out of a fireplace not even looking like you're about to fall over? Can I do that?"

Flitwick laughed.

"It's partly practice, but I suppose there is a trick to it also. I think where most people go wrong is that they don't actively step out of the fireplace, so instead the fireplace throws them out. The other thing is that you will always be spinning when you arrive - move with that, and don't try to fight it or ignore it."

"Thank you."

Harry tried that when he arrived at Hogwarts, Flitwick noted - he wasn't yet as graceful as Filius himself, but the young man did step out of the fireplace and he did manage not to fall over as he danced around to arrest his rotation. Somewhat surprisingly, the other three did precisely the same thing - clearly they had all been paying attention, and it paid off in that none of them fell over. Filius nodded approvingly, but forbore to comment.

He looked at the Four.

"Garrick Ollivander may not have special access to private information as such, but he is extremely knowledgeable and intelligent, and his inferences are usually correct. He has done you all a great service today by sharing his thoughts with you - I strongly suggest that you pay close attention to everything that he told you. Miss Granger will no doubt be able to remind you of the precise wording."

The Four nodded, and soon afterwards they all went to lunch.

At lunch, Dean and Seamus ran up to the Four where they were sitting.

"You guys are nuts!" said Seamus. "Sure, maybe you can get away with skivin' off History of Magic, but you didn't show up to freakin' Potions! What are you playing at?"

Neville grinned. "Actually, we don't have to show up to any classes we don't want to anymore."

"WHAT?"

Harry chimed in. "Yeah, Dumbledore said. McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout were all there, too."

Seamus and Dean frankly goggled at them. There was a long pause before Dean found his voice.

"So what are you going to do instead? Seriously, why are they letting you cut classes?"

"We're studying," said Hermione. "on our own. Since we're studying together and working so hard, we're learning faster than a normal class. So instead we're going to study on our own most of the time, though we do have master timetables and permission to attend any class we want to."

"Er... Like, you could go to a Potions class with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?"

"Well yes, but also we can go to a second- or third-year class if we like. We can even go to any seventh-year class, though that would be a bit pointless at this stage."

"Does that mean you don't have to do homework anymore?"

Hermione laughed.

"Well, sort of. I don't think we'll have to write 12 inches on Urg the Unclean for Professor Binns, but we will be spending much more time studying than anyone else does."

"Is that what you were doing this morning?"

"No," she said, "this morning Professor Flitwick took us to Diagon Alley so that Ron and Neville could get new wands."

Dean seemed satisfied with that, and conversation lapsed as they all devoted themselves to eating.