III. FAME & FORTUNE
Out of nowhere, while I lay comfortably asleep under Hagrid's overcoat, something dropped on top of me and started pecking and clawing.
I snuggled deeper into the coat, kicking out in a groggy attempt to make it go away. Distantly, I heard Harry's voice as he panicked and tried to make whatever it was stop attacking me-or, more likely, attacking Hagrid's coat.
I bet it's because of those bloody dormice.
Fed up, I sat up abruptly and wove the coat about harshly. There was a thump and, huffing in satisfaction, I curled back up and went right back to sleep.
The next thing I knew, Harry was shaking my arm.
"Jewel?" he said cautiously.
I flung an arm over my face.
"Back, demon-" I moaned sleepily as I snuggled deeper into Hagrid's coat.
"Jewel, you have to get up," Harry insisted.
I didn't budge, floating in the cotton candy land between being awake and being dead to the world.
"Jewel!"
I grumbled something along the lines of, 'Jewel need sleep, Harry go away, fire bad'.
I could hear something, more damn hooting, then the coat shifted once or twice and Harry went very quiet.
"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today," Hagrid yawned, "gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school. Come on, Jewel-yeh can' sleep all day," he added to me.
Even half-asleep, I grunted something like, "wanna bet?" and pointedly rolled onto my side.
Hagrid chuckled in amusement.
"Um-Hagrid?"
Harry suddenly sounded dejected.
"Mm?"
"I haven't got any money-and you heard Uncle Vernon last night..." Against my will, I felt myself wake up slightly, "he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."
"Don't worry about that. D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"
At that, curiosity got the better of me and I blinked open my eyes-only to groan and rub them furiously when the sunlight streaming through the windows briefly blinded me.
After my eyes adjusted, I cracked a yawn and rolled onto my back to see Hagrid sitting up on the sofa and Harry on the floor next to me holding weird-looking bronze coins.
...I feel like I missed something.
"But if their house was destroyed-"
"They didn't keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts Wizards' bank," Hagrid cut in before mumbling something about sausages and cake-I kind of tuned out.
"Gringotts?" I questioned blearily.
"Wizards have banks?" Harry asked.
I turned my head to stare at him in disbelief.
He makes wizards sound like aliens.
Believe it or not, I think they might even have bathrooms and houses, too-when they're not kicking back on the mothership, anyway.
"Just one, Gringotts. Run by goblins."
Gob-whats?
"Goblins?" Harry and I blurted in unison only to stop short, our heads whipping around to stare at each other.
"Please tell me this isn't going to end up being a thing," I groaned.
Harry looked like he almost hoped it would be.
"Yeah," Hagrid said, looking at us in amusement, "so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe-'cept Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business."
Hagrid swelled up with so much pride that, if he happened to be stuck with something pointy, he'd shoot about the room like a deflating helium balloon.
"He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you two, gettin' things from Gringotts-knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin'? Come on, then."
Grumbling under my breath about moving and cruel and unusual punishments, I let Harry help me to my feet. With nowhere private to change, I just stayed in what I was wearing-tucking my slightly rumpled band shirt back into my jeans and tugging on my flats. Seeing how wild and curly the rain had made my already naturally untidy red hair, I blew my fringe out of my eyes in annoyance and rolled a purple rubber band off my wrist, tying it back. While Hagrid and Harry stepped outside(to my relief, it seemed that the storm had well and truly passed), I grabbed my messenger bag.
Hesitating suddenly as I looked down at my bag, I glanced back at the firmly shut(and likely barricaded)door to the other room.
Contemplatively, my gaze travelled to the sofa before flickering to the open front door(which did not, in fact, collapseagain when it was opened), Hagrid and Harry no doubt wondering why I hadn't come out yet.
Abruptly, I impulsively dug into my bag, scribbled a note(which basically went something like; 'Hey cuz, sorry your fat-head dad provoked a wizard the size of a house and got you hexed-don't get me wrong, it was funny as hell, but you didn't actually do anything to deserve it; wish he'd of hexed your dad, that would've been hilarious; left you some food out of pity; xx, Jewel Potter, your soon-to-be favourite cousin'), and stuffed it(along with several packaged sandwiches and chocolate bars)under the mouldy blankets where they would either be found by Dudley(and not his parents, who I specified in my note could starve), or end up being a nasty surprise for whoever owns this godforsaken shack.
(I'm assuming a serial killer or someone who rents real estate to serial killers; this place feels very Crimewatch).
Well, the sandwiches would be pretty bad if left to their own devices-the chocolate should still be good, depending on when it's found.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I headed out without a backwards glance, stepping carefully on the still dangerously-slick rock.
Hagrid and Harry were standing by a death tra-rowboat I hadn't noticed on the water last night when Hagrid and I arrived.
My eyebrows arched up.
"How are you even alive right now?" I asked Harry under my breath in disbelief.
"It-looks worse than it is," he said sheepishly.
Remembering the raging storm from a few hours ago, I doubted that.
"How did you get here, anyway?" Harry wondered.
"Flew," Hagrid said.
"Flew?" he repeated in shock.
Harry glanced at me sideways, eyes wide.
I returned his look with a you-really-don't-want-to-know headshake.
"Yeah-but we'll go back in this," Hagrid said casually, as if a bearded giant and an eleven-year-old girl flying to a hut-on-a-rock was as common as taking the underground, "Not s'posed ter use magic now I've got yeh's."
I wouldn't mind it, I thought, wrinkling my nose at the floating hunk of timber(I've seen sturdier-looking boats full of sand in kindergartens), long past the point of caring that Hagrid hadn't been legally allowed to use magic since he was 13.
Which has to be the stupidest law I've ever heard of, ever-so, what? You get expelled, you can't just apply to a new school, you get your wand snapped?
Seems about right.
"Think I could swim it?" I muttered to Harry.
He looked at me in surprise.
"You probably shouldn't," he told me.
"Yeah, because that-" I pointed at the rowboat(that literally still had water in it), "is the safer option," I countered sarcastically.
Looking at the rowboat, Harry grimaced slightly.
"It was fine yesterday," he offered unsurely.
"I find that hard to believe," I deadpanned.
"Just-get in the boat, Jewel," he sighed.
I just crossed my arms and looked at him challengingly.
"Make me, Four-Eyes," I shot back.
Harry looked taken aback.
"Four-Eyes?"
"What? I thought it was pretty good," I joked, mock defending my preschool insult.
"Come on, Jewel-let's just go," Harry urged, walking over and hopping into the boat with Hagrid.
I just stared at them for a moment.
"So, nobody else thinks that getting in that 'boat' should be constituted as a cry for help?" I remarked, adding heavy finger quotes around the word 'boat'. "Or, you know-" I twirled a finger by my ear, "muy loco?"
When they both just looked at me blankly, I shrugged.
"Okay then, just checking," I snorted wryly.
Walking over, I cautiously climbed into the rowboat and took a seat beside Harry with Hagrid completely taking up the other half.
Shockingly, it held all of our weight.
-Is it bad that I kinda wanna rock side to side to see if it'll capsize?
"Seems a shame ter row, though," Hagrid commented, looking at us sideways. "If I was ter-er-speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"
I instantly perked up.
"My lips are sealed on pain of death," I breathed dramatically.
"Of course not," Harry said eagerly at the same time.
Pausing, he blinked at me, clearly wondering if I was exactly 'all there'.
Oh, god, the wizard madness is spreading! I've been infect-
No, wait, this is normal Jewel Potter behaviour, I'm good.
"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked once Hagrid and his pink umbrella had gotten us moving.
Zoning out(but still kind of catching snippets of their conversation), I stared at Hagrid's umbrella with renewed interest.
"-enchantments-guardin' the high-security vaults-hundreds of miles under London-Deep under the Underground-die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat-"
Dumbledore's wand looks like a fancily hand-carved stick, but Hagrid's using an umbrella...is that because of his expulsion? Is he just never allowed to handle a proper wand again? Or do some wizards get fancy-looking sticks and other's umbrellas and other odd assorted items? I suddenly pictured having to wave a loafer about whenever I wanted to cast a spell, and barely bit back my amusement.
But straight-up, screw the wooden sticks, I want a magic umbrella.
"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual."
"There's a Ministry of Magic?"
Harry's question broke me from my musings and I dragged my gaze from the gamekeeper's(probably legal?)magic pink umbrella to look at him weirdly, tempted to make a snarky remark but figuring I should trick him into liking me first before I ruin it with my ✧*̥˚ sparkling personality *̥˚✧.
We're still really unsure about one another and, until we've gotten to know each other a bit better and he's used to me(I'm a bit of an acquired taste), I've decided to at least try to be on my best behaviour.
Wait, where the hell did Hagrid get a newspaper-and why are all the pictures on it moving?
"'Course, they wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o'course," Hagrid was saying to Captain Question The Obvious to my right and I took a moment to picture the cheerful wackadoodle as the Minister of anything, least of all the magical community of Britain-or however far the 'Ministry of Magic's' purview stretches, "but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."
What kind of a name is Cornelius Fudge? Did his parents not like him very much or something?
"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"
"It's a governmental organisation so...lie, probably," I remarked cynically.
Harry and Hagrid looked at me in surprise before the older wizard let out a snort of laughter, beard twitching in amusement.
"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country-"
"So, lie," I muttered.
From what I've seen from Dumbledore and Hagrid, wizards aren't exactly a subtle lot-I wonder what they do to keep Muggles oblivious to it all?
"Why?"
I looked at Harry incredulously, wondering silently if I'd absorbed all of the brains in the womb.
"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magical solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."
The rowboat bumped against the harbour wall.
"Have you never read the X-men comics?" I added disbelievingly. "The X-gene? Mutants? They're something new, and different, and powerful, and because of that they're discriminated against, tortured, experimented on, and turned into weapons by people who let their fear, paranoia, and lust for power get the better of them-not that Magneto and the brotherhood do much for their image, mind. That's probably the best example I can think of-that, or the Salem Witch Trials.
"I mean, shit, Muggles thought witches were walking among them and burned people at the stake-most of whom, I bet, weren't even real witches. Human sacrifice! Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria! In Europe, they even hanged or beheaded 'em first before incinerating their bodies to protect against postmortem sorcery."
Seeing their dumb expressions, I felt mildly offended.
"What? I'm a closet nerd and I've read about the Witch Trials," I defended, "that shits interesting."
Getting up, I skirted around Hagrid and hopped out of the rowboat.
Wait...glancing from the hut-on-the-rock to that hunk of termite bait, something hilarious suddenly occurred to me. I almost stopped to point it out to Hagrid-but realising he might do something about it stopped me. And, really, if Hagrid and Harry hadn't noticed it then it's kind of on them, you know?
Grinning slightly, I continued on with a new spring in my step.
After a moment, Hagrid and Harry traded a bewildered look before following my lead.
꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ
The walk to the station was...kind of awkward, I won't lie. Everyone we passed stared open-mouthed at Hagrid-and the gamekeeper didn't exactly help matters when he pointed at ordinary everyday things like parking meters and loudly went on about "the things Muggles dream up".
Then there was Harry, who kept staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking, still struggling to believe I was even real-let alone his(clearly fraternal)twin sister.
I wasn't much better.
"Hagrid, did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?" Harry asked just as the station came into sight.
I stumbled over my feet, head shooting up.
"Dragons?" I exclaimed, suddenly wishing I'd paid more attention to Harry's apparently-not-completely-ridiculous line of questioning.
"Well, so they say. Crickey, I'd like a dragon," Hagrid mused.
"You'd like one?" Harry repeated in disbelief.
I was too busy trying to comprehend the fact that dragons exist, too.
Dragons, goblins, wizards and witches-what's next? Werewolves?!
"Wanted one ever since I was a kid-here we go."
Making our way into the station, we checked the train times to see there was one going into London in five. Hagrid, who doesn't understand money(Muggle money, anyway-wizards apparently have their own currency), passed a handful of bills to Harry and had him pay. The train ride didn't take long and, soon enough, we were climbing a broken-down escalator leading up into the street.
"I don't know how Muggles manage without magic," Hagrid remarked.
"Have you been to London before?" I asked Harry as we hurried to stay close behind Hagrid, our human snowplough-bucking up the courage to at least attempt small talk after the awkward silence that had stretched between us throughout the entire train ride.
We just kept glancing at each other, trying to force out the billions of questions swirling around our heads, only to look away and deflate when neither of us managed it. Somehow not noticing how unsure and uncomfortable we were, Hagrid kept up a steady stream of conversation as he knitted a bright canary-yellow...circus tent? which was a welcome distraction.
Harry shook his head.
"Have you?"
I tightened my ponytail compulsively.
"I lived here for a bit when I was four-" I admitted slowly, furrowing my eyebrows in thought, "but I don't remember much."
Curiosity brightened his eyes.
"Did you live here with your adoptive parents?"
I looked away uncomfortably and folded my arms.
"I've only been with the Morrissey's for, like, two years," I admitted, clearing my throat and tightening my grip on my arms. "That was one of my other foster families."
"...foster families?" Harry repeated faintly, staring at me while I stared at the sidewalk, refusing to look at him. "Like, more than one? How many-"
Something in my face stopped him from asking.
Not that I could've answered even if I'd wanted to, I thought bitterly.
Once again at a loss for words and somehow feeling even awkwarder, we followed Hagrid silently down the street, looking around at the crowds of people, large buildings, and brightly coloured cars as they zoomed by.
"Wanna hear something funny?" I said suddenly, wanting to dispel the tense atmosphere-and make him stop looking at me like I'm a three-legged puppy he'd accidentally kicked.
Harry perked up.
"Yeah-sure, yeah," he agreed quickly.
"We took the only boat," I said.
Harry looked confused.
"The Dursleys," I prompted.
When he still didn't seem to get it, my lips twitched up.
"They have to swim to shore."
Harry almost stopped walking as realisation swept over him.
To my surprise, he didn't look horrified or even all that concerned.
We looked at each other for a beat, Harry's eyes wide and a small smirk playing around my lips, before suddenly cracking up.
"We are horrible people," I sniggered.
Harry didn't seem to care.
In our defence, it was hard to keep a straight face with the mental picture of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley with his new pink piggy tail desperately doggy paddling to shore in our heads(even if I kinda feel bad that Dudley was just standing there quietly, didn't say a word or do anything, and got hexed and probably, like, traumatised for life because of his dad's big mouth...it was still super funny though).
Clearly not having heard what we were talking about, Hagrid looked back at us in surprise before smiling widely, happy we were getting along.
"This is it," Hagrid announced, stopping so abruptly that I barreled into his back. "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."
Peering around, I followed the wizard's gaze to a...pub?
And not a very well looked after one by the looks of things.
My arms still crossed tightly as nervousness swirled in my stomach, I followed Hagrid, Harry beside me, into the grubby, dimly lit, crappy little pub. An old woman smoked a pipe in the corner(which immediately put me on edge-I hate the smell of pipe/cigarette smoke)while several others drank from shot glasses of sherry, and everyone seemed to know Hagrid, the low buzz of chatter stopping at our appearance as they greeted him with smiles and waves, so we couldn't just sneak through unnoticed.
"The usual, Hagrid?" the bartender asked as he reached for a glass.
Hagrid shook his head.
"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business."
His right hand thumped onto Harry's shoulder and his left mine.
I almost fell over under the unexpected weight.
Harry's knees were wobbling.
Seeing Tom gawking at us, and realising he'd recognised us somehow, had me eyeing the exit and contemplating sacrificing Harry to the crowd and booking it outside where it wasn't suddenly deathly quiet and a room of complete strangers weren't staring at the two of us like we were their Messiah.
"Bless my soul," he breathed, looking from me to Harry, "Harry and Jewel Potter...what an honour."
Rushing out from behind the bar, he grasped Harry's hand.
There were actual tears in his eyes.
"Welcome back, Mr Potter, welcome back," he said tearfully, turning to grab my hand before I could duck for cover behind Hagrid. "Miss Potter, it's-it's an honour."
I nodded dumbly.
It took me a moment to realise my mouth was wide open.
I shut it.
"Doris Crockford, Mr Potter," an elderly witch said as she rushed over to Harry while I was accosted by a wizard with a floppy head and a prominent chin, his hand shaking mine so enthusiastically that my entire arm felt like it was vibrating and I think I might've seen stars.
"Jewel Potter-I can't believe-you are brilliant, you are-absolutely brilliant-"
"Uh, you too-" I said awkwardly.
A tiny wizard in a top hat took his place, excitedly introducing himself as Dedalus Diggle(Harry recognised him-apparently, he bowed to him once in a shop; the vertically challenged wizard was so thrilled that his hat fell off and he exclaimed, "He remembers! Did you hear that? He remembers me!"), then Doris Crockford just short of body checked him to shake my hand. She was back four times before I noticed she kept getting back in line to meet me, and Harry, over and over again.
The whole thing had my head spinning.
"Professor Quirrell!"
Hearing Hagrid's voice, I perked up, hoping for an escape only to deflate when I saw a nervous, pale-looking bloke.
His right eye was twitching.
"Harry, Jewel, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts," the gamekeeper added.
Surprised, I took a closer look at the professor only to falter, lips pulling down.
He was on edge for some reason(but, outwardly, just looked twitchy and nervous)and, all of a sudden, I found myself eyeing the wizard suspiciously.
There was a strange disconnect there, and it made me uneasy.
Like his actions weren't matching up with the things going on inside his head.
"Mr P-P-Potter, M-Miss P-Potter," Quirrell stuttered as he shook Harry's hand and, still taken off guard by the weird vibes I got from the guy, I couldn't help but think better him than me. "C-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."
He turned to me, holding out a hand.
I could've kissed Doris Crockford when I realised she was still shaking my hand.
Quirrell awkwardly dropped his hand.
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked taking the attention away from me, to my relief.
"D-Defence Against the D-Dark Arts," he muttered, apprehensive at the very mention of the subject he taught. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" he added with a nervous laugh.
"You teach a Defence Against the Dark Arts class?" I blurted, unable to help myself. "What, was Dumbledore drunk when he hired you? Aren't defence teachers supposed to be able to, you know, defend themselves?"
Hagrid and Harry stared at me in shock.
Quirrell's lips thinned.
"What? It's not my fault he looks like a butterfly could take him out," I muttered defensively.
At that comment, Quirrell looked briefly irritated.
"You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose?" he commented after an awkward pause, smiling stiffly. "I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself."
-Vampires?!
Quirrell looked genuinely scared at the idea(which is weird, because he wasn't scared-how I knew that, I don't know, but he wasn't)-but somehow still wondered why I was so disbelieving that he was supposed to teach us to defend ourselves against anything.
But, seriously, vampires?!
Before I could insult him again-I have a very small amount of impulse control and a tendency to just bluntly blurt out whatever's on my mind, he vanished into the crowd which quickly descended on us again. It felt like an eternity had passed just shaking hands when, in reality, it was about ten minutes.
"Must get on-lots ter buy," Hagrid finally said, raising his voice to be heard over the noise, "Come on, you two."
Doris Crockford got a hold of Harry one last time, and Dedalus Diggle gave my hand an enthusiastic shake, before we managed to push through the crowd and outside.
Instead of the storefronts I'd expected, we stopped in a small walled courtyard.
Weeds sprouted from the ground and it smelt faintly from the trash can by the door.
"If he led us out the wrong door," I muttered to Harry, rubbing my slightly pounding head, "I vote we leg it over the wall."
Harry didn't argue.
"Told yeh, didn't I?" Hagrid said, beaming at us, "Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh-mind you, he's usually tremblin'."
"Is he always that nervous?" Harry asked, glancing at me, no doubt thinking about what I'd said earlier-which, while especially rude, wasn't a terrible point.
"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience...They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag-never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject. Now, where's me umbrella?"
I watched in confusion, hand dropping from my forehead, as Hagrid counted the bricks above the trash can.
"Three up...two across..."
-Wizard madness.
"Right, stand back."
Harry and I took a step back and watched our, apparently mental, companion as he tapped the bricks with his pink umbrella.
"Are you sure he didn't have anything to drink while we were in the bar?" I whispered dryly to Harry, miming taking a long swig of imaginary vodka.
Why I made the mimed drink specifically vodka, I don't know.
Suddenly, the bricks started to move.
They wriggled and shuffled outwards and, as Harry and I watched in amazement, formed an archway so large that Hagrid, the towering figure that he is, didn't need to duck to get through.
I manually tapped my mouth shut.
On the other side of the archway was a cobblestone street lined with colourful, strange-looking stores that I could only just glimpse from where I was standing.
"Welcome, to Diagon Alley."
꧖ꦿꦸ⊰ ⊱꧖ꦿꦸ
As we entered Diagon Alley, I absentmindedly grasped Harry's arm so I could look around without getting myself lost. With how massive Hagrid is, it'd be pretty difficult to lose sight of him-but, knowing me, I'd find a way.
I'm resourceful like that.
Harry stared at my hand for a moment before looking away, a small smile on his face.
Behind us, the last brick shifted back into place, closing the archway back up.
Walking down the cobblestone street, I kept a hold of Harry as we took in the fantastical sights around us-the magical stores, the colourful scenery, the strangely dressed wizards and witches...it was like-stepping into another world. There were stores that sold cauldrons(Potage's Cauldron Shop), stores that sold potions-potions!-ingredients(Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary), stores full of hooting owls(Eeylops Owl Emporium), shops selling telescopes(Twinkle's Telescopes), quills, parchment(Scribbulus Writing Implements), and even moon globes as opposed to ones of the earth(Wiseacres Wizarding Equipment), and even a store that sold what looked like flying broomsticks(Quality Quidditch Supplies-what the hell Quidditch is, I have no clue, but I didn't dwell on it). I only skimmed my equipment list, but I'm pretty sure first years aren't allowed to own a flying broom-which sucks but, hopefully, there's a class on flying.
I mean, how wicked would that be?
"Gringotts," Hagrid said suddenly, catching my attention.
I curiously stared up at the kind of imposing, snow-white, multistoried marble building towering over the rest of the shops in the alley, and us.
Making our way up the front stairs to the burnished bronze doors, I was quickly distracted when I caught sight of the strange-looking creature standing beside them dressed in a scarlet and gold uniform.
It was short(about a head shorter than Harry, and Harry isn't exactly 'tall' for our age)and swarthy and had long ears, very long fingers and feet, and a pointed beard.
Harry and I looked at each other, wide-eyed.
"Yeah, that's a goblin," Hagrid said as he led us into the bank.
As we passed, the goblin bowed.
We stopped in front of a silver set of doors engraved with a warning:
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.
"Cheery," I snorted sarcastically.
"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," Hagrid said as another set of goblins bowed us through.
The silver doors opened into a vast hall flanked by a row of counters where more goblins were sat performing various tasks; from writing things down in huge ledgers to weighing money on scales to examining priceless gems.
Several goblins could be seen showing witches and wizards in and out of the many, many doors leading off the hall.
"Morning," Hagrid greeted as he found an available goblin, "we've come ter take some money outta Mr Harry Potter and Miss Jewel Potter's safe."
Okay, so now I know why Dumbledore told Dakota and Alistair to not worry about giving me money to buy my school things.
"You have their key, sir?" the goblin replied.
To my relief, he didn't try to shake our hands or declare it was an honour to serve us.
I'd enjoy this whole 'famous' thing a lot more if I'd actually done anything to earn it. Every time someone brings it up is just a reminder of all the BS I've been struggling to process all week.
-And, you know, my parents' murder.
Trust me, if I'd actually done anything, and it wasn't traumatic as hell, I'd milk this for all it's worth.
"Got it here somewhere-"
Hagrid emptied his Mary Poppins pockets onto the counter.
The goblin wrinkled his nose in disgust as he dropped a handful of mouldy dog treats on the book he'd been scribbling in, and I mirrored the gesture.
"Got it."
Hagrid held up a tiny gold key for the goblin to examine.
"That seems to be in order," the goblin said, somehow recognising that it was on the up-and-up.
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid added, puffing up with pride, "it's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
The goblin read the letter Hagrid handed to him just as carefully as he'd examined the gold vault key.
"Very well, I will have someone take you down to both vaults."
The goblin handed back the letter.
"Griphook!"
Another goblin appeared and, after Hagrid had finished stuffing everything back into his pockets, we followed him towards one of the doors leading out of the hall.
"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.
"It's Dumbledore we're talking about here, so...gumball machine?" I jokingly suggested.
Harry looked confused, not having met the generally cheerful, eccentric-seeming headmaster, but Hagrid's beard twitched.
"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid answered Harry shiftily while I looked around the room, distracted by the magical goblin bank and not really paying that much attention to their conversation despite my curiosity. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
Griphook opened the door for us and, to my surprise, I found myself faced with a stone passageway lit with, get this, torches. I half-expected to be led into a medieval dungeon but, instead, Griphook stopped us by a railway track. With a whistle from the goblin, a small cart zoomed down the track and halted in front of us. With a grimace, Hagrid(who didn't appear to be fond of the Gringotts carts for some reason and seemed to be steeling himself against the ride ahead)difficultly clambered in and Harry and I followed his lead, sitting side by side and looking around interestedly.
But then-
"Holy-!"
All of a sudden, the cart shot off like a bottle rocket fuelled on Coca-Cola and mentos. We were going so fast that I was thrown back and I had to grab onto the edge of the cart to stay upright-and keep from, you know, tumbling out sideways to my inevitable doom and all that fun stuff.
As if the breakneck speed wasn't enough, we seemed to be in an underground maze-like the Labyrinth(the one with the minotaur, not David Bowie-although, there are goblins here...). I doubt even a person with perfect recall could remember the way. We just kept dizzyingly zigzagging, twisting, and turning-left, right, right, left, middle, fork, right, left...it was impossible to track(even Griphook didn't seem to know-the cart, from the looks of it, is self-driving)-which is probably the point.
Harry looked turned around.
Hagrid looked green.
And me?
Well, naturally, I was laughing like a maniac.
"It's like atheme park ride!" I called over to the others, who were staring at me like I'd lost my mind. "Like a crazy roller coaster that's sole purpose is to make you puke! Hey-" I turned to Griphook, blinking a bit as the cold air stung my eyes, "just curious-does this thing lead to hell? Because I think I saw fire a second ago-and this place is giving me real down you go vibes-"
Griphook just smiled creepily.
Well, okay, then.
On our rapid descent, we passed an underground lake filled with huge icicle-like rocks protruding from the ground and ceiling.
Harry asked Hagrid something about the difference between stalagmites and stalactites, but I was too busy laughing wildly and trying to keep the birthday cake I had for breakfast from making a second appearance to pay much attention.
Finally, the cart slowed to a stop.
Feeling kinda woozy and wibbly-wobbly on my feet, but still giggling, I stumbled off after Harry-who surprisingly stopped to steady me.
Looking like Bruce Banner at the beginnings of transforming into the Incredible Hulk, Hagrid leant against a nearby wall, his knees trembling.
Some of my giddiness faded.
"You okay, Hagrid?" I checked, making my way over as Griphook approached vault six hundred and eighty-seven with the little gold key.
Hagrid nodded, swallowing.
"Yeah. I don' like comin' down here," he admitted queasily, "doesn't sit well with me stomach."
I patted him bracingly on the arm.
"Jewel!"
Hearing Harry's gasp, I twirled around to see him gawking at the contents of the vault.
Green smoke was billowing out from inside but quickly clearing.
Wondering what all the fuss was about, I took a couple of steps to the left to get a good look-and stopped dead, jaw immediately dropping to the floor, when I saw the stacks upon stacks, higher than my head, of gleaming silver, bronze, and gold coins.
"Holy purple cannibals, Batman!"I breathed speechlessly.
"What?" Harry said, confused.
"Don't worry about it," I said faintly, waving a hand.
"All yours," Hagrid told us with a smile.
Harry and I looked at each other in amazement.
Holy crap, we're loaded.
It took us a good few minutes of gawking before we snapped out of it.
All Harry could think about was how the Dursleys couldn't of known about our small fortune because, if they did, they would've had it from him faster than blinking.
Or, you know, I assume that's what he was thinking.
A pink rubber band snapped.
Hagrid helped us collect handfuls of coins into a bag.
"The gold ones are Galleons. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough."
In what universe?
-Wizard madness, that's what this is.
"Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh."
I grabbed a handful of Galleons and turned to Harry, waving them in the air.
"You mind?"
"It's your money too, Jewel," he pointed out, "you don't have to ask to take some."
"Good answer," I complimented jokingly, pocketing the money. "But, seriously, it's our money," I added, "so, I'll let you know if I make a withdrawal, and it'd be nice if you did the same. Keeps things honest, you know?"
"Sure, good idea," Harry agreed with a smile.
"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?" Hagrid was asking Griphook.
"One speed only."
I did a tiny fist pump but smiled sheepishly when Harry caught me.
If anything, I think we might've gone faster the second time.
The cold wind blowing in my face made me glad I'd tied back my hair as we hurtled down the track and over what looked like an underground ravine.
Harry leant over his side of the cart to get a better look but, with a groan, Hagrid grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him back.
Finally, the cart was slowing again.
Feeling lazy, and twirly, I couldn't be bothered leaving the cart but, from what I could see, the vault didn't seem to have a keyhole-and Griphook didn't seem to have a key. It made me wonder how he was going to get in, and what was so important about whatever was in this vault-and, looking at Hagrid, I knew it was very important.
Whatever it was, it was beyond priceless(not to mention in dire need of protection)-I was, for some reason, very certain of that.
A yellow rubber band snapped.
"Stand back."
Reaching out, Griphook stroked the door with one of his long fingers-and, astonishingly enough, it melted away at his touch.
Neat trick.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that," Griphook added when he saw Harry looking at him with his 'I'm about to ask a question, it may be stupid, it may not be, so pay attention Jewel' face, "they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there."
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?"
Griphook grinned nastily.
"About once every ten years."
"Oh, joy," I muttered sarcastically under my breath, shivering.
That's one way to deter thieves-bloody hell.
With that fun little tidbit, I expected to see piles of precious gems-priceless treasures and a sarcophagus or two-Walt Disney's cryogenically preserved head-but the only thing inside of the vault was a dirty little package.
Without a word, Hagrid scooped it up and tucked it into his coat.
Huh.
"Come on, back in this infernal cart," Hagrid grunted, "and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best I keep me mouth shut."
Hagrid and Harry settled themselves back into the cart and, glancing at Hagrid and biting my lip, I found myself impulsively reaching across to grab his hand.
Hagrid looked down at me in surprise.
"I-I don't know if it'll help," I said, turning a bit pink, "but you can hold my hand until we get back upstairs."
His face softened, and he squeezed my hand gently.
(which, with how strong he is, felt like a normal person tightly gripping my hand instead of a gentle squeeze, but I didn't really mind).
"Thanks, Jewel," the gamekeeper said warmly.
Harry was staring at me again. He didn't seem to know what to make of me, and I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet.
And, with that, the cart began to roll once more.