Note: Hello, my dear readers! Here's another chapter. If you have the time, please do grace me with a review - I must admit to being slightly disheartened by the complete lack of feedback so far. Is it that bad? I'd really like to hear any criticism any of you have, constructive or otherwise. Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 5
What did he have left?
As Gornuk ushered him into a small room, away from the crowd still tearfully rejoicing at witnessing his return, Harry's poise and confident smile evaporated.
He slumped into a chair in front of the desk Gornuk had gone and sat behind, and listened absentmindedly as the goblin told him what he would have to do to reclaim his family's vaults.
Harry idly lifted his hand as Gornuk asked him to, wincing slightly as a needle drew a drop of his blood.
Lost in thought, he barely noticed as the goblin ran his tests, nodding at the results.
What did it matter? His chance of restarting was gone anyway, the clean slate he had been so hopeful to turn over marred with the marks of a world of sheep, needing to be comforted, helped, saved.
No. He shook his head. I won't let it happen. I won't let them take it from me.
He would play along.
Yes, he would keep up the act, be their revered golden boy, their hero and saviour…
He would use this hindrance to his goal as a cover for it - hide his ambition behind innocent naivety, oblivious contentment, mindless cheer.
When he was ready, he would reveal his true self, and even if he had to tear down and rebuild the wizarding world to do it he would find a way.
He hardened his heart.
—
He was silently led to a cart, given a pouch to store his money, and wheeled into the depths of the bank, finally stopping at a nondescript vault door.
The goblin accompanying him, one that Gornuk had assigned to him, walked up to the vault, eyes gleaming, and stroked the door with his finger.
The door melted into nothing.
The goblin moved back towards the cart, some semblance of pride in his expression, and allowed Harry his privacy.
He stared, fascinated, at where the door had been.
Must be some sort of enchantment. Hopefully, there'll be enough money inside for me to buy my school supplies.
He tentatively took a peek.
Holy cow.
McGonagall had not been kidding when she had told him of his father's wealth.
Golden coins piled up in great columns, gleaming in the torchlit vault. On the walls hung grand tapestries, dark red and gold colouring slightly faded with age. Leather-bound books and odd trinkets of all sizes and shapes lined the shelves along the walls, and it was here that Harry approached first, walking along the shelf, and scanning the dusty tomes.
A History of Magic, First Edition
Interesting, but not so useful.
Magical Politicks
It might be helpful to understand some of those workings.
The Art of the Sword
He didn't think he'd need to stab someone anytime soon.
Battle Magic: A Guide and Study
Here, he stopped. That would undoubtedly be of great help.
Grabbing the book and flipping to a random page, he began reading -
The conjuration and use of elemental powers can turn the tide of a duel. The powers of nature are vast; the wizard who wields them can harness a fraction of their power if his will and intent are unshakeable.
He reluctantly stopped reading there but put the book in his pouch, which seemed to be much larger on the inside.
Will and intent…
Regrowing hair, teleporting onto a roof, Harry remembered, caused by the intent to be normal, and escape from Dudley…
His understanding of magic grew - it was brought forth by a strong will for something to happen, not just the silly words that witches and wizards loved incanting.
He continued along the shelf.
The Standard Book of Spells
Magical Theory
A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration
He froze again. Schoolbooks. He recognized all these names, memorized them from a month of secretly and longingly reading and rereading his Hogwarts letter - they were the first year Hogwarts books.
But why would they be in a vault filled with such treasure -
Unless, he thought, breath catching, heart thumping, these were-
With shaking arms he pulled The Standard Book of Spells off the shelf, reverently cracking the book open to the title page-
Property of Lily Evans
He exhaled in a slow rattle, shivering despite the warmth of the torchlit vault in the depths of Gringotts Bank. A quick flip through the book revealed it was fully annotated, each page covered with notes and revisions and suggestions.
Carefully and longingly, he took the rest of the books, dozens of them, the entire Hogwarts curriculum - each graced with her handwriting, neat and refined and beautiful.
He didn't bother looking for any of his father's.
His father had been born and raised into this spectacular world. He had been adventurous, reckless, and mischievous; he would have discarded his schoolbooks with relish after each term ended.
His mother had been like him. She had come from nothing, and was fascinated with the new world, desperate to find her place in it. The books had been a physical embodiment of her belonging in the magical world, and had been the medium to reveal to her the secrets of magic. To her, they were a treasure worth more than any amount of gold.
Now they were his, and he couldn't stop the tears from flowing as he read through the first and last thing he had of his parents.