8 April 1992

Harry's trip to Diagon Alley was kept quiet – he didn't even tell his friends. Professor McGonagall said if people knew, everyone would be nagging for special outings, and the school simply couldn't cope with that. He promised he'd stay mum about it, and he did.

His visit to Gringotts went smoothly. After withdrawing some money from his trust vault he returned to the counter and asked the teller if he would mind letting Griphook know he was here, please.

"I am not a messenger owl, young wizard. If you do not have an appointment and do not know where to go that is not my concern," scowled the teller. "Time is money, after all," he hinted.

Mindful of Mr. Parkinson's example at Yule, Harry decided perhaps a little less courtesy was called for. He straightened his back and assumed a haughty air.

"I think Griphook would be fascinated to hear how negligent in your duties you are. I am sure he is expecting me. You are aware of customer's appointments, are you not?"

The goblin grinned a very toothy grin. Or perhaps it was a snarl. It was hard to tell. "You believe it is my job to keep track of your appointments?"

"It is your job to recognise them when they are announced. Now I insist on speaking to Griphook. If you know who he is?" he ended with a sceptical look as if he wasn't sure the teller was smart enough to recognise the name.

"Hah! Not bad for a youngster. For a sickle I'll send someone to fetch him to a room for you."

"Well, I suppose that would be…" Harry hesitated. Mr. Parkinson hadn't paid anything for the last meeting. "Unacceptable," he finished, after a pause.

"Stingy little wizard," grumbled the goblin. "Worth a try, though." He smiled toothily again and rang a small bell, and someone came to lead Harry away to a private meeting room where eventually Griphook showed up with his yearly vault statement.

It was much like the last one, listing the contents and changes to Vaults 687 (the "Harold James Potter Trust Vault") and 704 ("Potter Family Vault") since April of 1991. The family vault had nothing unexpected - though seeing the total had risen again, with no deductions listed, was pleasant. His trust vault included notes on his withdrawals on the first of August and in December, a rather large payment of galleons to Hogwarts on the first of September, and the expected 10 knut bank fee. What he hadn't expected was an additional withdrawal of 350 galleons in October.

"What's this then?"

"I think you'll find it's a withdrawal. For 350 galleons," Griphook grinned toothily.

"I can see that. Who made this withdrawal? Is it some kind of outrageous bank fee you neglected to mention?"

"No, Mr. Potter. If it was not a withdrawal your feeble brain has forgotten about, then it must have been made by one of the signatories on your account."

"What? Who? You said my accounts were frozen!"

"Your family vault is frozen. Your trust account can be accessed by yourself and by the designated signatories, and terms may be renegotiated if you wish to enter into a… pleasant discussion of the matter."

"You said nothing about other people being able to access my trust account last time I was here!"

"No-one asked." Griphook smiled so wide you could see his pointed canine teeth. It seemed like there were more teeth than there should be in a mouth.

"Who is stealing my money," asked Harry with gritted teeth.

"Legally accessing," corrected Griphook. "Theft is a different and very serious matter. You're not accusing Gringotts staff of theft are you Mr. Potter?"

"No, of course not," said Harry hastily. "Sorry. Who took money out of my account then? If that is phrased sufficiently clearly for you?"

Griphook glanced at his vault statement, and then checked something in a ledger. "The signatory in question was a Mr. Dumbledore, and the reason for withdrawal of funds is listed as 'Essential transportation costs for Harry Potter'. Acceptable under the conditions on the trust vault."

So Professor Dumbledore was stealing his money. But why "transportation costs" in October? Then it struck him – his Nimbus 2000. He'd thought it was a gift from Professor McGonagall. Or that it might revert to the Quidditch team when he quit, but he'd been told he could keep it. Perhaps Dumbledore had taken money out to pay for his broomstick. Not nice, but not quite stealing.

"I require a list of uh, 'signatories' who are authorised to make withdrawals or changes to my account, and information on how to change that."

"That's quite a big request," hinted Griphook.

Harry sighed. This was going to take forever. And he wasn't actually feeling confident about his ability to negotiate changes to his account. He had other things he still wanted to get done today.

"Look, if I give you a couple of galleons, can you just change it so that no-one can access my account except me?"

"Certainly, Mr. Potter," said the pleased goblin, taking some gold coins from an impatient Harry. "As you're a youngling, for that price I'll even advise that you nominate a second person who can access your account in case of emergencies."

Harry thought it over briefly. It was good advice. But who to trust? "Neville Longbottom," he concluded firmly.

"You're not as dull as you look. I thought you were going to choose Mr. Parkinson."

"And now no-one else can make withdrawals on my trust account except myself or Neville?"

"Once I've updated the ledger, that's right," said Griphook, sitting quietly at the desk.

"And can you do that now?"

Griphook grinned and wrote in the ledger. Harry Potter was learning fast, but with a tutor like the formidable word-duellist Mr. Parkinson, it was only to be expected. He'd rather have a naïve Muggle-born account to manage, but at least it was going to keep life interesting. He did so relish a challenge.

"Griphook, do you know how I can reach the Ministry of Magic relatively quickly?"

"We have a Floo connection to the Ministry's Atrium on Level Eight you could access. For a fee."

Harry sighed again, and reached for his purse. "Shall we negotiate that fee, then?"

"Gladly."

Harry left the bank after a much longer time than he'd expected. He'd have to wrap up his business quickly if he didn't want to arouse Professor McGonagall's suspicions.

He didn't have time to admire the Ministry very much. It was rather overwhelming, so he tried to keep his head down (insofar as a tall pointy hat allowed) and get straight to business. He first stopped by the Public Information Services Office, who'd told him they'd need his signature witnessed on a form requesting access to Potter Cottage. He suspected they doubted it was really him asking. That part turned out to be fairly straightforward, once the gawking and bleats of "so you're really him" was over. Then he needed to take his paperwork up to Wizengamot Administration Services on Level Two. Where they took his form, but said they couldn't authorise him to visit Potter Cottage today. The form would need to be processed, then sent to the Magical Maintenance Department who would in due course be in contact with him to arrange a time to visit inside the building, and possibly also to remove contents of the building, if decided appropriate by Wizengamot Administration Services officials.

"You must understand, Mr. Potter, that this building has been registered in trust as a historical landmark," said a sympathetic but unhelpful bureaucrat.

"It's my family home, and has my mum and dad's things in it. They'd want me to have them. I'm sure it would be in their wills."

"That as may be, but I simply don't personally have the authority to de-register a historic landmark just like that! There's procedures we have to follow."

After asking for directions, Harry (and the unimpressed school owl on his shoulder) took the Floo back to Gringotts, and then headed out for a brief stint of shopping before meeting up with his teacher again. He didn't have time left to linger, but wanted to show something for his hours of absence from her. So he grabbed an assortment of books from Flourish & Blotts, a size 2 silver cauldron from Potage's Cauldron Shop for his experiments (shrunk by the shopkeep for transport), and remembering that he'd claimed to be buying very late Christmas gifts for friends, quickly nipped into Amanuensis Quills and grabbed an assortment of quills dyed different colours, as well as stopping by a small stall out in the alley to buy a few jewellery trinkets for the ladies.

He also bought some sorbet in a cone, to eat as he casually strolled back to rejoin Professor McGonagall. He hadn't managed a quick trip out to Potter Cottage like he'd hoped, but he'd certainly learnt some useful things. He'd secured his vault account, learnt how to reach the Ministry of Magic, and moved his paperwork further up the chain to getting access to the cottage. Not a bad day, all things considered.