Harry ate with a will, when Hagrid set his food down, telling himself that he should show good manners and refrain from stuffing a bit of bread in his pocket. For good luck, you know?

They finished their morning rituals, Harry brushing his teeth and Hagrid smoothing down his hair (Harry had gotten to the point where he knew not to bother. His hair was always unkempt - so Aunt Petunia always said. He settled for scrubbing his face till it was slightly red instead).

As they came down the stairs, Hagrid stalked over to settle his bill with Tom. As everyone looked at the big giant, a lean man stuttered over to Harry. "P-p-professor Quirrel. Starting Hogwarts this year, are we?"

"I'm supposed to, I think, yes."

"I will be teaching you then. I am very excited about the new position, you understand."

"The new position?"

"Yes, the Defense against the Dark Arts post." Quirrel said in his halting manner, thankfully suppressing the stutter.

"I'll look forward to your class, then," Harry said courteously.

"Oh! Yes of course," Quirrel said, "I need to be finding a new book on Vampires. Such fascinating things..."

Hagrid came over, and said heartily "Quirrel! I missed ya there! I'm to take this young un to get his things for the new school year."

"I'll...I'll leave you to it then."

Harry Potter had never seen a bank so imposing, he thought looking up at the imposing building. It looked like a temple to a Greek God. Mammon, perhaps? Harry frowned as he read the inscription above the door, and heard his suspicions confirmed when Hagrid muttered, "Ye'd have ta be mad ter rob Gringott's" - which was presumably the name of the bank, although nobody had bothered to tell him so.

Walking in the door, Harry had to fight to look normal, natural. Like he often saw green scaly (small) monsters with pointy teeth. Yes. Harry Potter's need to find a book, or two, or several hundred was multiplying with every step. Not just a world with wands that did magic. Creatures the likes of which he'd never even dreamed existed (though perhaps others had, he figured that had to be what Magic Shows were like on the tellie).

"Griphook! Take these two to vaults 223 and 713!" a goblin called, and another goblin walked over to them, gesturing for them to follow him. Harry wondered what he'd missed while he's been busy thinking (and gaping, even if he'd had the sense to keep his mouth shut).

Harry and Hagrid got aboard a small coalcart (though Harry doubted the bank actually used coal), and the goblin hopped behind. Hagrid had only time to say, "Hang on!" before they went on the ride of Harry's life, flying through the caverns - Harry's delighted scream echoing their descent.

Harry stood before the Potter vault, and pushed his hand against it as instructed. It opened with a creak, and Harry let out a breath he had been holding without knowing it. What if he wasn't a Potter at all? That was possible, wasn't it? He'd never really met his parents, and Hagrid seemed the type to be mistaken a lot. Maybe he was simply mislabeled?

As the door opened, Harry's mouth dropped in disbelief. There was as much gold there as a full mini computer! It was unbelievable! "This... this belongs to me?" Harry asked in an uncharacteristically shaky voice.

"Yea, Harry, it's your inheritance."

"How much can I take?" Harry demanded, his resolute voice echoing through the tunnel outside.

"Now, Harry..." Hagrid started, before Griphook arrived, bowing, "You may take it all, Master Potter. But I'd advise against it."

Looking straight at Griphook, Harry responded, "Why's that?"

"We're better at catching thieves than wizards are, as a general rule. And if you choose to keep your money here, you will earn interest." Griphook said, his eyes narrowing as his first sentence had little impact.

"How much interest?" Harry shot back.

"3%" the goblin said.

"Pass. Can you deliver this to HSBC, under my name?" Harry wasn't quite sure this would work, but he figured that the worst of it would be he'd be without money he'd never known he had.

"8%!" the goblin responded, his eyes bulging out.

Harry nodded, satisfied. "A full percentage higher than muggle rates. Very well, for now, I'll keep most of my money here. How much gold will convert to a pound?"

Griphook responded, a shade quicker than Hagrid, "One galleon to a pound's the general conversion. But I'll give you one galleon to a pound and two pence, mmm...?"

Harry smiled, glad for once that he'd listened to Uncle Vernon talk about interest rates. The rest of the trip to the bank passed uneventfully, with Hagrid making a withdrawal from a suspiciously empty vault - but as the goblin didn't seem concerned, Harry decided not to worry about it. Much.

[a/n: Harry's a good listener. And Uncle Vernon loves to talk business. Leave a review!]