Sorry about lateness.
1) I don't own
2) Please point out mistakes, I lack a beta to better
3) Reviews welcome! Please….
4) Enjoy!
Chapter 5: Mall Crawling, Wizard Style.
Last Chapter: Thief, you have been warned, 'ware!
Of finding more than treasure here
"Yeh'd be mad to try and rob it." Hagrid shook his head. "See, there's meant to be a dragon. And goblins are tricketty. Scrupulously honest-they never lie-yet tricketty. They don't have wands, but they do crafty little spells."
They went through the silver doors, into a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid made for the counter, and the twins followed in his wake. Although the hall was crowded, people were too busy to do more than glance at the twins, and so no one realized who they were.
"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta the Potter safe."
"You have the key, sir?"
"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.
Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.
The goblin looked at it closely.
"That seems to be in order."
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
The goblin read the letter carefully.
"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"
Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Isabel and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.
Impressive place, huh?
The goblins are scary.
It's alright,Iz.
I know. They just look, so..
Short?
Wily.
What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thir teen?" Harry asked.
"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
Griphook held the door open for them. Isabel, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply down ward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in — Hagrid with some difficulty — and were off.
At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. The twins tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.
#*~*#
Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late — they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.
"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"
Stalagmites are on the ground, stalactites are on the ceiling. There's all sorts of little memory tricks to remember that. For instance-
Iz. Thank you.
"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."
He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.
Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.
Harry gulped. His Uncle Vernon was a reasonably wealthy man, for all his complaining about the twins' living expenses. He could buy all Dudley's birthday presents without making a significant dent in the Dursley accounts. But Harry knew that in front of him was more money than Uncle Vernon had ever had, more money than he ever would. Even split in half-he peeked at Isabel and found her staring at the fortune, eyes wide-it was more money than Harry had ever dreamed of having.
"Conversion rates are about one Knut to the pound." Hagrid offered, beaming at the twins.
Harry started doing maths.
My goodness, Iz! We're rich!
Oh my. It seemed to Isabel's only thought. She was still staring at the money.
Hagrid cleared his throat and offered each twin a bag. Harry took it, his brain already wondering whether he could buy a broomstick, pretend he was a second year…
Isabel was not moving. She seemed to be in a daze.
Iz? Iz, snap out of it!
Right, sorry. It's simply so much.
Hagrid helped the twins fill a bag each.
"Yeh can order stuff from school, so we'll buy everythin' on your list today, bu' we'll make sure there's money left over fer school." Hagrid turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?" "One speed only," said Griphook.
They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Isabel sighed and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.
"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.
Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his
coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.
"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.
#*~*#
One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Isabel didn't know what to do first now that she had a bag full of money. She knew that even this little bag, a tiny fraction of her half of the fortune, held more money than Dudley had ever had. "Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, Bel, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the
Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so the twins entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Hogwarts, dears?" She didn't wait for an answer. Come right through, we'll have to get you fitted. Now, dearie, you come through to the Witches' Fitting Room, and you can go into the Wizards'. I have another young man in there now."
#*~*#
Harry followed where she was pointing. The boy standing on the footstool in the Fitting Room looked about his age. He had a pale, pointed face, and was scolding the witch who was pinning up his long black robes. Madam Malkin followed Harry through.
"Now, dear, stand on this, and keep still." Harry stood on a second stool and Madam Malkin slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.
"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at cauldrons," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.
"No," said Harry.
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.
"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"Um," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
Harry wondered if the boy had heard the same description of the house qualities that Harry had heard.
"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at three large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.
"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking this boy less and less every second, and he was thinking that perhaps Slytherin was the correct house for him.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.
"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.
"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families."
Harry wondered if this boy was a pureblood. He certainly acted like one.
"What's your surname, anyway?"
But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.
Harry went back into the shop, and Madam Malkin loaded him up with clothes.
"Now, dear, when you are Sorted, the tie and the vest will assume your House colours. And the robes will have your House shield on the pocket." She turned to Isabel, who had also finished being fitted. "And these are for you, my dear. Don't forget you can order more through the year if you grow out of them."
Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts) outside the shop.
"What's up?" said Hagrid.
"Nothing," Harry answered. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"
"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know — not knowin' about Quidditch!"
"Don't make me feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.
"-the other students won't all be so arrogant, will they?"
"O' course not. Look, 'Arry, you probably met abou' the worst kid there just then. I know plenty o' nice kids tha' go ter Hogwarts. Yeh'll be fine. Now that yeh have finished yore ice-creams, how about we buy yeh some trunks? Tha' way yeh won't have ter carry all yore stuff. Yeh can put it in the trunk, see?"
So they went shopping. At Wiseacres Wizarding Warehouse, they bought trunks, scales, two sets of glass phials, and a telescope. Next was a shop called Flourish & Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. They bought the curriculum books, then Harry sloped off to the practical joke section. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"I was trying to find a spell for Dudley."
"I'm not saying that's a bad idea, but you're not allowed ter use magic outside o' school. Now, where's that sister of yours?"
Iz?
I'm reading.
Where?
History.
"I think she was going to go look at books on history."
Isabel was sitting in the middle of an aisle, heavy tomes stacked around her, deeply engrossed in a book.
Iz?
I'm reading.
Put the book down, Iz, there's a good girl. That's it. Good Iz.
Harry…
Hagrid grinned fondly at Isabel. "A bookworm, huh? Jus' like your mother. But there's a library at Hogwarts, Bel. Read books from it."
They managed to drag Isabel out of the shop with a minimal amount of protest.
Next stop, cauldrons. The sign said that Potage's Cauldron Shop sold "Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring – Collapsible". Harry grew excited at the sight of a gold one. Isabel put her hand on his arm.
Harry, the list says pewter.
"No, 'Arry. It says pewter on the list."
Hagrid agrees with me. Come on, Harry.
No real reason why I decided to stop here. I promise the next chapter will be up in less than a week, and you will see Isabel's wand. J Be excited! From AviaLee.
P.S. AxelCat, I posted. Follow my stellar example and soon.
P.P.S. Popcorn, Astrielle.