Griphook knew, right at this moment, that everything was going to go all sideways cocked to hell. Because eleven year old Harry Potter was staring at Gringott's guard dragon like it was prime steak.
"Oi Griphook, that giant lizard over there, seems awful lot like a dragon to me.." Harry questioned, face all scrunched up as he stared the azure creature up and down. His escort, the mean little goblin who introduced himself as Griphook was panicking. The goblin had made quite the dumb mistake and chosen the wrong path to Harry's vault, instead they descended much deeper than intended and here was where Harry met a magical creature (that he knew of) for the first time in his life.
It was quite interesting, how the bank operated deep underground, there were hundreds of vaults hidden beneath the vast cave like structures and the only accessible route was one charted by the goblins, maneuvered by a cart. Sort of like a roller coaster if Harry had to describe it.
The pale eyed, scarred monstrosity looked upon them curiously huffing smoke from it's nose as it studied the two even paler creatures before it.
"Well that settles it then!" Harry exclaimed and proceeded to give the goblin beside a heart attack as he jumped down, landing gracefully right a few meters away from the quite-possibly hostile fire-breathing dragon.
"You're a big one! Name's Harry big fella!"
The creature reared back before slamming it's two front limbs on either side of the child and gave an ear-shattering roar right in his face.
"My apologies then... name's Harry big girl!"
An even louder roar answered him, Harry gagged at the smell coming from it's cavernous mouth. The creature reared back on it's hind legs and suddenly, his instincts screamed at him to duck, Harry's eyes widened in surprise as a long, spiked tail came snapping at him from the left.
Now the good thing, the smart thing to do would be to obviously listen to his instincts and dodge, but Harry was... well Harry, despite his genius, could be quite the muscle-head sometimes, an outright battle maniac that would happily swing at anything that came at him.
So he did what any muscle-brained, battle maniac would have done. He slammed his foot into ground, gritted his teeth, and delivered in his opinion, the strongest right hook he'd ever dished out right back into the spiked appendage.
The resulting impact completely broke more than a couple of bones in Harry's fist but managed to severely damage the dragon's tail, who wailed in pain and rage as it was unexpectedly forced back.
It wasn't as if Harry completely sucked at fighting, it was just a dumb brute contest of strength in the dumbest way possible.
"You think you can take me overgrown lizard!? Let's dance then!" Harry roared back.
His eyes glowed blue as electricity danced about his body, the battle's high quickly taking over his mind as squared against his opponent. Bending his knees, the blue-eyed boy launched himself forwards with a yell
Deep within the caverns, the eleven-year-old's warcry echoed loudly along the stone wallls...
"AYBABAYAY!"
Saying the Dursleys felt out of place was a major understatement. They were after all, very normal people in a magical bank in the Wizarding World. No matter how fairy-tale like all of this seemed, the fact of the matter was that literally everything around them was unknown.
No matter how desensitized (or drunk) they were mostly due to Harry's antics, there was still an air of nervousness that permeated all three human members of the family. The tremors that seemed to be rocking the building didn't do much to alleviate their uneasiness either.
"How long is this going to take? I rather we not linger about.." Vernon grumbled, obviously wanting their only form of protection right back at their side.
"Relax Vernon, it's not like somebody's going to jump out and rob us." his wife answered, patting his side. The woman frowned as she felt something hard and metallic underneath her husband's coat, suspiciously in the shape of a...
"Vernon! Is that a gun!?" Petunia admonished, looking aghast at her husband's audacity.
"Will you keep it down! I only brought James in case of an emergency!" he whispered harshly.
"I can't believe you named your gun after Poor Uncle James, that's a bit much innit dad?" Dudley deadpanned.
"Well I think James would be proud that he'll be used to defend the family!" Vernon argued back.
"Come back soon Potter.." Dudley moaned, unknowingly drawing the attention of another family standing close.
"Excuse me.."
Dudley turned quickly, surprised at being addressed directly and almost let out a 'wow' at three of the most blonde and ethreal people he'd ever seen in his life. Even the bloke his age had a jawline that could cut metal! They were also pale, very pale, as if they'd never spend a day out in the sun in their lives. All three of them were dressed in what appeared to be very expensive garments. Dudley couldn't stop staring at their silvery blonde hair and wondered if it was natural.
"-m sorry what?" he repeated dumbly as the aristocratic man raised an eyebrow, the child beside him snorting as his wife remained stoned-face.
"I said, is Harry Potter an acquaintance of yours by chance young man?" the man repeated, shifting slightly to reveal a cane in his hands. Dudley immediately decided it was cool as shite and was most definitely going to buy one with Harry's money.
"Well yeah, we're cousins, but uh... if you're looking for him he's indisposed at the moment." Dudley answered, pointing a thumb towards where Harry disappeared to.
Right at that moment a thunderous boom absolutely rocked the hell out of Gringotts Bank, making everyone lose balance, and even sending some of the goblins to the ground.
"What in god's name!?" Vernon exclaimed in surprise.
Another even stronger quake this time threw everyone else on the floor. Somehow the firewhiskey in Petunia's hands did not spill on bit.
After a few moments, the denizens of the bank quickly got on their feet just as an alarm rang out. Dudley thought some bloke must have had the balls to rob the bank in broad daylight, and brought quite the few dynamites with him too.
"Potter!? What the hell!?" Dudley exclaimed as his cousin limped out of the doorway the disappeared to previously, holding a very unconscious goblin by the scruff.
His cousin looked terrible, there was an open gash across his cheek, his right hand had swelled up and look to be infected with all the dark splotches all over. Numerous cuts decorated his person.
"Feast upon the Dragon-Slayer puny mortals! HAHAHAHAH!" he cackled, much to the horror of everyone else around him.
"The Dragon is not dead?" Professor Mcgonagall asked for the umpteenth time. Looking at Harry as if he was the biggest liar in the world. After all, what child could take on a dragon single-handedly? And since when was there an actual fire-breathing Dragon below Gringotts?
"Of course not! What do you take me for!?" Harry grumbled, the dragon may have been a bellend but Harry wasn't about to murder an innocent creature. He groaned in pain, that fight did not do wonders for his back.
What he didn't know was that it didn't do much for his rapidly in-the-drain reputation either. He was practically persona non grata now in Gringotts, a chunk of his Potter fortune had been confiscated to pay for the damages incurred and everyone over the age of twelve thought he was an attention seeking bollock.
Harry wasn't really bothered at the moment, he just beat a dragon in a straight fight! Granted the poor girl looked half dead but still, it was a good fight!
"You some kind of retard? All you had to do was take the money, and leave. LEAVE POTTER! NOT FIGHT A DRAGON!" Dudley started, voice slowly increasing to an outrageous yell, immediately receiving a decently big-kid sized shoe to the face.
"Who are you calling retard? Besides, I won, so everything works out." Harry said brightly, clenching his healed fist. Magic did wonders, quickly cleaning him up an fixing him new.
"What!? No Mister Potter nothing works out! You will explain to me what exactly...Mister Potter?" Mcgonagall's temper was reaching her boiling point as Harry simply got up and started walking away from her like she wasn't in the middle of a lecture. "Why I never!" she sputtered in anger.
"Uncle Vernon is that a gun?"
"Mister Potter! You will explain yourself! What did you do in there!? I should have known a son of James would be such a.." Harry completely blocked out the Professor's rants of course, after all dragon-slayers don't get lectured.
"Oh look, a bag o gold, here you go!" Harry said, rudely cutting off the professor and tossing a literal bag of galleons at his Aunt, who caught it expertly.
"Don't worry my good woman, as his guardians, Pet and I will discipline the boy, oh you can be sure of that! As soon as we get home you're getting punished for all the ruckus boy!" Vernon exclaimed quite fiercely... well it would have been fiercer if he wasn't talking to the bag of gold in his wife's hand instead of the boy himself.
Minerva Mcgonagall seriously wanted commit a crime right then and there. The only reason Aurors or the Ministry weren't rushing into Gringotts in droves was because it was technically Goblin land. She supposed it was a good thing that the little marauder decided to run wild here rather than the Ministry of Magic itself.
She needed to pen a letter, lots of letters, and some of that fire-whiskey the boy's aunt was guarding so jealously.
"Finally Potter's stick will be longer than half and inch." Dudley quipped, snorting at his own joke. Harry of course merely shot a tiny bolt of lightning at his cousin's arse.
Professor Mcgonagall made sure that the debacle back in Gringotts was not over until she had all her answers, but at the same time the old woman wanted nothing more than for the day to end, and so they continued on alone, the witch claiming she had certain urgent matters to attend to.
Ollivanders! The magical wand shop that apparently dated all the way back to 382 B.C, personally Harry thought a wand would only hold him back but the Professor insisted it was absolutely essential to a wizard. Far be it from him to counter, since he knew shite about actual wizardry.
Ollivander himself was a silver-eyed old man that looked to be high on... certain vegetables as he somehow perfectly bumbled around his shop with perfect memory. Eight wands had been put in Harry's hand and so far all eight had been useless.
Dragon's Heartstring (he snorted), Unicorn's Hair, Threstral (What the hell was that?) even a Goblin's Nail! It seemed that wandmakers would put anything into the flimsy pieces of wood.
"I wonder..." Ollivander paused, his mercury like eyes widened for a moment before the promptly disappeared, appearing a few moments after with a dusty old box. He quickly removed its top, placing the beautiful holly wand in Harry's right hand.
A rush of power surged it's way up and down Harry's arm, his eyes glowed slightly blue as his person burst out in warm sparks. He thought he heard a whisper of something from the wand, but it came as soon as it went.
The feeling was incredible, as if he was reunited with a part of his soul, his very spirit. Even the mundane Dursleys were awed, themselves realizing they were witnessing something special.
"What's it made of?" Dudley asked in reverence.
The wandmaker made a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Harry himself.
"Holly... 11 inches... nice and supple! And its core of course! Phoenix feather... one of two given from the Headmaster's own... the other I'm afraid, whose wand it resides in, gave you that scar."
Absolute silence filled the shop.
"You mean... the french shit that did my parents in has the same wand?" Harry whispered, caressing his wand, mixed feelings as he did.
Ollivander merely raised an eyebrow, that was an interesting way to describe the Dark Lord; but if his memories didn't fail him the man was sure He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was british, not that he was going to correct the emotional child.
"Don't suppose you could change wands now could you?" his aunt questioned, looking decidedly uncomfortable. To her muggle self it was like holding the gun you knew your parent's were murdered by, quite unsettling.
"I'm afraid the wand chooses the wizard madam, be wary Mister Potter, I sense a great deal of power within you, I'm sure that wand will help you accomplish wonders... whether they be good... or terrible remains to be seen.." the wandmaker said unnervingly.
"Right then! That'll be seven galleons!" he demanded, hands out.
"Screw you old man." Harry deadpanned.
A/N: I'm just fucking around, if you take it seriously then well, that's on you my friends.