Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, etc.
Thanks for reviews, sorry for not updating
This chapter has been rewritten now so I hope you enjoy:
Harry Reynolds being heir to two of the founders of Hogwarts, was, though he did not quite know it yet, a big deal. Though Laknor had told him that both the Peverell house and the Potter house held certain political sway and importance in the wizarding world, the eleven year old didn't quite understand that either. As such he attached little to the titles he'd just found out he had, and more to the vaults which were filled to the brim with gold, silver and bronze coins, stacked high to the ceiling.
The first vault Harry visited was the Evans' family vault - it was the nearest to the top according to the goblin showing them around. Griphook (Laknor specialised on inheritance tests and was not a low enough rank to have to guide wizards around the bank) told them that the newer vaults were towards the top of the bank, and the deeper, and lower, you go into the bank the older (and often richer) vaults you'd get.
Griphook explained that there were certain levels to the bank, and the vaults furthest down were harder to access and better protected - not that that made too much of a difference according to the goblin, as Gringotts hadn't ever been successfully broken into and all vaults were considered safe.
"When Gringotts first opened it wasn't well trusted by you wizards." Griphook seemed to spit the word out like it was a curse word. He was begrudgingly replying to Luke's question about the structure of the bank, though he did not seem to happy about answering the question, instead the small goblin seemed to prefer the idea of sitting in the carts in silence. "Wizards and goblins, you see, don't have the most," The bald goblin grinned, baring his large, yellowing teeth, "Amicable history." He said pointedly and Harry and Luke shared a look as they sped through the mines.
The Gringotts layout was a complex one. There seemed to be hundreds of interwoven railway lines, crossing over each other and then bending back round, each having the capacity to go to any vault within the bank. The carts moved so quickly, twisting and turning and spinning all around, whizzing around so quickly that one couldn't catch a clear glimpse of any of their surroundings - perhaps it was a plot, after all, it's a lot harder to rob a bank if you can't find the vault you're looking for.
"The ministry always interferes with our business - as though they control us - they don't. We are not their subjects. We are not their inferiors, and yet they meddle with our dealings." The goblin continued bitterly. "They make laws to restrict us, insult us, insult our customs, our language, our lifestyles, our people."
"So English isn't your first language?" Luke asked and the goblin turned back to him, a crooked glint in his eyes as he scanned the doctor up and down before the goblin sneered.
"Of course not." He replied shortly almost as if he was looking down on Luke for even considering that possibility.
"What is your first language then? Is there any way of learning it?" Luke asked curiously - ever the intellectual, with a keen thirst for knowledge.
Griphook looked up at him curiously, as if bewildered at the idea of a non-magical or a wizard learning the language - there were a couple of wizards, Dumbledore for one, who understood a baseline knowledge of the language, and could uphold a brief conversation - predominantly a greeting and a farewell (with a terrible accent), but actually learning the language was all but unheard of. Even just learning a few words and sayings like the Hogwarts' headmaster does was rare - and he was considered one of the most prominent wizards. A muggle? Learning Gobbledegook? Griphook's eyes betrayed him - he couldn't believe it.
"Wizards call it Gobbledegook, but we take offence to that, as the correct definition of that is 'language that is meaningless or is made unintelligible by excessive use of technical terms', we call our language Glibeiko." Griphook's accent change for the word of their language, giving a small insight as to what he actually sounded like when not speaking a foreign tongue.
"Is there a way of learning Gli-bey-co?" Luke stumbled over the vernacular, trying to figure out exactly how to say the word, and Griphook laughed - though there was less of a malicious snide in his laughter then there had been previously (though it hadn't completely disappeared).
"It is almost unheard of." Griphook replied. "But I suppose..." He trailed off thoughtfully. "I suppose there are some books from which you could learn... if you are truly interested." Luke nodded at his words. "Though the books might be difficult to find." Griphook added as they pulled to a stop in front of a vault. "The Evan's family vault." He introduced.
It was numbered 2171, meaning it was relatively new, according to Griphook. The vault was quite small, it had neatly ordered bookshelves, and money neatly stacked up with a clear ordering system.
"What is the exchange from the gold ones to the pound coin?" Dr Reynolds asked Griphook,
"The gold coins, or Galleons as they are called, are worth five pounds each. The silver coins are Sickles. The bronze coins are Knuts. There are 17 Sickles to a Galleon, and as such 493 Knuts to a Galleon, that puts it at 29 Knuts to a Sickle." Griphook recited as if he was reading a script and Luke and Harry exchanged a surprised look, that was a lot of money.
Harry wondered over to the bookshelf and glanced over at the covers, a full set of Lord of the Rings, which looked worn down and well-read, rested at one end of the bookshelf, and a first edition copy of The Tales of Beedle The Bard rested at the other, the bookshelf, the gap bridged by what Harry presumed to be school textbooks. His mother's? He wondered absentmindedly, before tearing himself away from the shelf and nodding at his father that he was ready to move on to the next vault.
"You were explaining the history of the bank?" Luke prompted as they returned into the cart, always thirsty for knowledge and Griphook nodded, seeming marginally less reluctant than before.
"When we opened this bank we were attempting to make ourselves into a bigger part of society, but Wizards did not trust us, nor did centaurs, or pixies, or merpeople - they were not accepting of our endeavour to try to fit into the society and rejected us." Griphook scowled at the thought before continuing:
"A few wizards, however, decided to trust in us and to use our bank. The first was Merlin, an esteemed, and popular wizard, then Morgana Le Fay and a few more prominent wizards followed their lead, soon joined by the founders, Lords Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin as well as Ladies Helena Hufflepuff & Rowena Ravenclaw, after these prestigious people from respected houses and joined, many followed suit, including the Peverells, Ashtons - the ancestors of what is now known as Longbottoms, Blacks, and Gaunts. So, that is the simple order, first come first serve and best served, forever. Their vaults are the most protected of all." Griphook paused before resuming. "Fortius Quo Fidelius." The goblin said. "Strength through loyalty. It is the Gringotts motto, we honour those who showed trust and loyalty in us by guarding their vaults the most ferociously."
The two Reynolds nodded at the explanations as they weaved through the cave system. "Vault 687: The Potter vault."
August 31st - The day before Harry goes to Hogwarts
Harry was all packed, to the point where even Hedwig - his snowy white owl with fierce amber eyes whom he'd named after a formidable lady written about in one of Godric Gryffindor's journals (which he'd taken from the vault in a moment of self-indulgence) - had her own treats neatly tucked away in a pocket.
Though Harry was obviously extremely excited about going to Hogwarts and studying magic, a huge amount of trepidation accompanied this excitement. It would be the first time since Harry had woken up from his coma that he would be without Luke Reynolds (or any physicians at all for that matter - though apparently there was a mediwitch at the school) for more than twenty four hours. He was scared. Scared that somebody would find out about the coma, or more specifically scared that somebody would find out about his past - not that he was ashamed about the coma, but he'd prefer to not be looked at as the abused orphan who'd been in a coma for over two years. This was supposed to be a fresh start. He wanted a fresh start.
Nerves. Just nerves. Harry tried to reassure himself. It would be fine: medically he was in tip-top shape and probably not all of the students would be like that arrogant, stuck-up blonde he'd met in Madam Malkin's - a wizarding clothes shop in Diagon Alley. It would be okay. There would be nice people and he'd make friends and learn magic and fly apparently? because wizards could fly... on brooms. So that would happen... and there were owls - yes, owls! - as pets used as messengers - and Harry had one!
There was even a secret platform onto the 'Hogwarts Express' hidden in London, King's Cross Station, Platform 9 and 3/4s. Plus, for the next seven years - as long as he didn't get expelled - he would be living in a castle - one which according to his inheritance test, Harry owned a decent portion of. Not that he was quite sure what that actually meant logistically - probably not much but still, it was kind of cool. It was a castle for Merlin's sake (Harry was trying to pick up some of the wizarding slang), a castle with moving staircases, magical portraits which moved and spoke, and thousands of secrets: hidden passages; forgotten-about rooms; a whole wing which according to some book (with albeit a slightly dodgy source), was unused and haunted by the ghost of Salazar Slytherin's son.
See: Hogwarts would be amazing.
Luke was less sure about this. His son, who he'd only adopted two years ago (after a horrendous experience, a lot of abuse and neglect and then a death-defying coma) surely wasn't ready for such a massive leap. He was worried Harry wasn't ready, that this experience would be exciting, yes, but also extremely stressful - what if Harry didn't find friends? or was bullied? how was Luke meant to help from hundreds of miles away - with only an owl as a form of communication?
Though most of Luke's doubts stemmed from him being sad about Harry going, over the time they had spent together - two years (though it had felt like a lifetime) - the two the two had developed a great bond, father and son, and Luke would miss Harry, who had quickly become an integral part of his life, one he would miss dearly.
But the opportunity outweighed the downsides, it was magic, and the doctor was sure, that if their positions were swapped around that he too would be desperate to go to Hogwarts - he would be mad not to be.
"Alright Harry." Reynolds began reluctantly as he glanced at his watch where the minutes were ticking down towards the dreaded 11:00 deadline. The dreaded day had arrived and the duo were standing on Platform 9 and 3/4s, the secret platform within King's Cross Station saying their farewells.
"Be safe, and take it easy. If I hear you are putting yourself in any sorts of danger, or breaking curfew and getting into trouble, I will be marching over to that school of yours and dragging you home by your collar - or robes." Luke jested, though he knew Harry wouldn't be doing any thing reckless, or overly irresponsible - the boy was too old for his years, and Luke would've almost been happier if he was getting himself into silly detentions for messing around in classes.
"Which obviously won't be happening." Harry rolled his eyes slightly at Luke before he smiled widely: "As if you could catch me any way, old man." He teased.
"Rascal." Reynolds replied ruffling Harry's hair before leaning down to hug the boy who had become his son so easily. "I'm going to miss you." He said shortly as Harry embraced Luke back.
"I'm going to miss you too. However," Harry paused, It is now 10:59," He anxiously noted whilst glancing down at his watch, "So I really have to go." Reynolds once more ruffled the former Potter's hair (it was already as messy as it could ever be) before he gently shoved him into the direction of the train.
"Go learn magic!" Luke Reynolds exclaimed after him, incredulous that that was ever a sentence he would be saying without being extremely drunk or joking, Harry offered him a small smile over his shoulder before he disappeared onto the Hogwarts Express, ready to start his new life.