Disclaimer: I own nothing.
After meeting the giant of a man, Hagrid, and seeing that magic was indeed real, Harry had expected a more... comfortable way of travel, not flying a motorcycle through a typhoon. It didn't help that Hagrid was trying to shout over the wind, rain, and thunder, deafening Harry more than he already was. He couldn't understand a word the man was saying.
Finally, after what felt like forever, they landed on solid ground. Though his legs felt like jelly, Harry immediately stepped out of the deathtrap motorcycle and stumbled into the nearest building, some odd bar named The Leaky Cauldron. Harry could only assume they were somewhere in London, but he didn't really care. Right now, he desperately needed sleep.
"Hol' on there, Harry. Don't go gettin' too far now." Hagrid grunted, dragging a large suitcase in behind him and slamming the door shut.
Harry took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Thanks for your concern, Hagrid, but honestly I'm alright." He replied, barely keeping the frustration out of his voice.
Hagrid seemed none the wiser, nodding his head and going to speak with the bartender. In the meantime, Harry looked around the dimly lit establishment. It looked rather cozy, with a fire burning in a hearth in the corner. There were only a few people here this late, one in particular who was staring at him. Harry raised an eyebrow, staring right back at the man in the turban. He was about to ask the man what he wanted, when he suddenly stood from his chair and raised a stick in Harry's direction.
"Avada Kedavra!" He yelled, a green light shooting towards Harry.
He had no time to react, the strange spell connecting with his chest and sending him to the ground, his body motionless as the light left his eyes.
The golden sand in the hourglass faded to black, freezing in place. A moment passed before it turned itself over, black fading to gold as the sand began spilling again.
Harry jolted awake with a gasp as the motorcycle landed, once again rolling to a stop in front of The Leaky Cauldron. What just happened? Did he die? He didn't feel any pain, just a sudden chill as that green light hit him. He barely noticed as Hagrid lugged the trunk over his shoulder, taking a step towards the door before turning back towards the young boy.
"You alright there, Harry? Look like you seen a ghost." He asked, snapping Harry back to reality.
He shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. It had all happened so fast, and now he was back again, with almost no time to avoid it. Would he come back if he was killed in the same way again? He wasn't about to find out.
"I-I'm fine, Hagrid." His voice wavered a bit and he had to take a moment to compose himself. "I don't suppose there's somewhere else we could go?"
Hagrid scratched his beard for a moment in thought.
"Well, I guess there's The Knight's Flagon a few streets down. Should do just fine, I s'pose." He answered.
Harry let out a sigh of relief and nodded.
"Let's go there... please."
Hagrid was a bit confused, but shrugged and got back on the motorcycle. Whatever Harry wanted, he wasn't going to argue. It wasn't far anyway. After a few minutes of driving, they pulled up in front of the other establishment. Harry quickly grabbed his bag and ran inside, not waiting for Hagrid this time, guessing the large man would take care of everything else. He ran to the top of the stairs and decided to wait there, eyes flicking back and forth quickly. There was no sign of the man in the turban, which put him a bit more at ease.
Why did that man want to kill him anyway? It's not like Harry did anything. Well, not anything he remembered... Maybe that was it. An act of magic from when he was too young to remember. Was that even possible? He supposed with magic, anything was possible... but if he didn't want to accidentally make anyone angry, or worse, he would have to learn to control it. That school Hagrid mentioned- what was it? Hogwarts?- was probably meant to do just that. But was Harry patient enough to wait that many years? With this rebirth magic happening to him, then maybe...
He shook his head. It was a stupid thought, but one he had to admit was tempting. Still, he probably shouldn't do that unless he had no other choice. Around that time, he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, and looked up as Hagrid came around the corner. He gave Harry a concerned look, but Harry was grateful when he didn't pry. Hagrid understood when someone else needed time to think. He simply gave Harry a nod, gesturing to a room that Harry assumed they would be sharing.
Harry nodded in return, watching as Hagrid stepped into the room. He sat out in the hall for quite a while, just mulling things over. Finally, he stood up. He had decided. If he didn't want random men in turbans shooting killing curses at him, he needed a way to defend himself. While Hagrid was a good deterrent, he wasn't exactly quick on his feet. And Harry couldn't rely on him forever. He may as well get an early start when he could. With that in mind, he stepped into the shared room with Hagrid. Harry was lucky he had years of blocking out Dudley and Vernon's snoring, otherwise he might have had to sleep in the hall due to Hagrid's own snoring.
He curled up in bed, a proper one, and finally felt the tiredness in his body. With a new resolve and a bit of excitement for what the next day would bring, Harry quickly fell asleep. And for the first time for as long as he could remember, he didn't wake up screaming in the middle of the night. No night terrors plagued him and, the following morning, Harry had to wonder if the bad thoughts were frightened away by Hagrid's aggressive snoring.
Walking into Diagon Alley was like a dream for Harry. After a quick breakfast and some sort of secret code tapped into the bricks of the alleyway behind The Knight's Flagon, Harry got his first real experience with the world of magic. Crowded with people dressed in wizard robes and witch hats, along with floating candles, moving portraits, and even some magical creatures in some of the stores. Harry wasn't even listening as Hagrid mumbled on about some person named Dumbledore, and a bank called Gringotts.
However, he quickly discovered Gringotts was probably the most impressive building in Diagon Alley. The stone steps and marble pillars seemed akin to some Greek architecture Harry had glimpsed in a book once, and he had to wonder if the building had been around since the Rise of Rome- or maybe even before! Walking into the establishment surprised Harry even more than the grand entrance. Gold, silver, and ivory everywhere, along with short, menacing looking creatures that appeared to be bank tellers.
"Hagrid... what are those?" He couldn't stop the question from spilling out.
"Oh, those are Goblins, Harry. They take care o' all the business and gold of wizarding England." Hagrid answered, almost like he was reciting for a test.
Harry found the tone odd, but didn't give it too much thought as they approached a teller. The goblin raised an eyebrow curiously at the odd pair, but it looked more like a sneer to anyone unfamiliar with goblins.
"Can I help you?" Despite his small stature, his voice was surprisingly deep.
"Yes, er... gotta letter here from Mr. Dumbledore." Hagrid answered, handing over the letter.
This time the goblin did sneer, glancing down at Harry after a moment.
"And the boy?" he asked.
"Oh, right..." Hagrid suddenly seemed to get nervous, shifting his weight and looking from side to side. After a moment, he leaned in and whispered, "He's Harry Potter."
This time, both of the goblin's eyebrows shot up to the top of his head. He immediately schooled his appearance back to normal, not wanting to appear unprofessional.
"You understand we'll need to confirm this." The goblin commented.
Hagrid appeared to grow even more nervous, apparently losing his voice for a moment. Harry saw his chance to speak up.
"Excuse me, sir..." he addressed the goblin, "... I'm not entirely sure what's going on, but it sounds like you need to confirm my identity?"
The goblin couldn't be any more surprised if he tried. Here was, supposedly, The-Boy-Who-Lived, and not only had he addressed a goblin as 'sir', but it sounded like he had no idea how famous he was. This would need to be remedied immediately. He turned his attention back to Hagrid.
"The process won't take long, I assure you. In the meantime, one of our vault keepers can help you with your business." He waved a hand, and another goblin came scurrying over.
Hagrid seemed uncomfortable leaving Harry alone, but even though the goblin didn't come up to Hagrid's kneecap, he ushered Hagrid out of the room rather quickly. Harry thought the whole scene was a bit comedic, but he felt it would be insulting to laugh. His attention was brought back to the goblin teller as he cleared his throat.
"Now then, Mr. Potter... please follow me." He stepped down from his chair, still a good foot shorter than Harry.
As he led him out of the main lobby, Harry spoke up again.
"I'm sorry but... you know my name and I don't know yours." He rubbed his arm, feeling a bit sheepish.
Harry thought the goblin might be grimacing at him, before he realized he was smiling.
"Ripfang, Mr. Potter." He replied. "And the one who escorted Mr. Hagrid was Griphook." He answered, seemingly pleased.
Harry nodded a bit.
"And where are we going... Mr. Ripfang?" He asked.
"No honorific needed, Mr. Potter. Just Ripfang will do. I'm taking you to speak with Director Ragnok." He replied briskly.
Harry smiled a bit. "Then I insist you just call me Harry."
How many times could this boy surprise him in one day? Ripfang would soon discover it was more than he expected. Then again, it wouldn't be a surprise if it was expected.
"Very well, Harry." He nodded, stopping at an intricately carved mahogany door with gold inlay.
After a specific knock, a deep call of 'Enter' signaled for them to step inside. Ripfang entered first, bowing low as Harry came in behind him. Seeing Ripfang bow, Harry did the same. Immediately, Director Ragnok was impressed by this boy.
"Who have you brought me, Ripfang?" He asked, his authoritative voice commanding a swift and concise answer.
Ripfang almost had a feral grin as he raised his head and replied.
"Director, this is Harry Potter. We're here to confirm the validity of that statement."
Now Ragnok was grinning as well. Harry wasn't sure if he liked being stuck between two grinning goblins. Nevertheless, he took the seat that was offered to him and tried to mentally prepare himself. He had no idea what to expect. A silly thought flew through his mind, though Harry pondered if it WAS that silly. The thought of these goblins eating him was not a pleasant one. Harry swallowed nervously as the large door closed behind him, leaving him alone with these two goblins.
"Now then... shall we begin?" The Director asked, his grin slowly fading to be replaced by a serious look.
He was all business now. He would soon discover if this really was The-Boy-Who-Lived. But if it was an imposter... then he would be leaving Gringotts under a white sheet.