Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or Harry Potter, or any of the characters from these universes. I am making no money off of this fanfiction.

A/N: So...Really sorry about the massive delay. Some real life stuff came up which distracted me from writing for a while, then just when I was getting back into it, my hard-drive died. That meant all my chapter outlines and pieces of future chapters already written were lost (something like 50k words all told). At the time it was fairly depressing and I didn't feel like re-writing it all, so I took a break from writing in general. But recently I have started writing again, both another Naruto story 'If the Villagers Were Right', which I have been posting recently, as well as re-creating my future plans for this story.

I do appreciate everyone's reviews and support though. Part of what made me decide to get back into writing was a sudden spurt of a couple dozen very encouraging reviews in the past couple months. Clearly there is still interest in this story, even after such a long absence. While I can't guarantee perfectly consistent updates in the future, there shouldn't be gaps nearly that long again.

Chapter 3: Dealing with Goblins

It was not a long wait. In fact, a reply from Hogwarts arrived the very next morning explaining that a representative of the school would arrive in a week's time to escort him to a place called Diagon Alley to purchase his school supplies. That following week was slightly nerve wracking though. His aunt just avoided him, and Dudley alternated between staring at him with wide eyes and running from him every time he saw him after Petunia had explained that Harry was a wizard and would be going to a magic school in about a month's time.

But Harry had long been used to both fear and avoidance from his relatives, so he didn't let it bother him. Instead, he was just excited about finally getting to something interesting. Based on the seals he had used to send Naruto's soul to this time, apparently he had a great destiny and was ready to get started on fulfilling it. Playing with his relatives with pranks and constant training might keep him occupied, but he wanted to get involved in something a little more exciting as soon as possible.

So Harry was awake and ready to go on the morning of July 31st, and was the only person at the table who did not jump in shock at the sudden very loud banging on the door. He simply got up and moved to answer it. He did, however, jump slightly when the third 'knock' broke the door right off of its hinges, causing it to collapse in front of a suddenly sheepish looking giant of a man.

"Oh, errr...don't you worry 'bout that. Fix that up quick, I will." The man, who was the same one who had carried Harry away from his parent's house and to the Dursley's almost a decade ago, carefully hunched over to enter through the broken doorway and gently lifted the door off the ground and propped it up in the place it had once been. Only then did he look around at the three staring people. Harry was only a few steps away, while Petunia and Dudley were both hiding around corners barely showing enough of themselves to peek at the new arrival.

Harry was still a little hesitant, not sure how you were supposed to talk to the guy who just casually knocked down the front door on the way to escort him to buy school supplies. But finally, after a short awkward pause, he eventually said, "Hi. Umm...You must be the representative of Hogwarts to take me to Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah, that's me. I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys an' Grounds at Hogwarts. Jus' call me Hagrid though. Everyone does." Without pausing, he continued to ramble on, clapping Harry on the shoulder, though he didn't notice either the reflexive tensing when he approached Harry, or that Harry didn't stumble with the blow like other eleven year olds would. "Yeh must be Harry. Haven't seen yeh since you was a baby. Yeh look just like yer dad, but with yer mum's eyes. An' I see yeh don't need glasses like yer dad did."

Harry nodded and smiled. "Thanks Hagrid. Yeah, I'm Harry. You knew my parents then? Maybe you can tell me some stories about them when they were in school some time? My aunt has told me a little about my mum, but...well, they were not really very close after they were kids."

Hagrid grinned and wiped at his watery eyes as he responded emotionally. "O' course, Harry. Yer mum an' dad were great. Knew 'em when they were at Hogwarts. Be glad to tell you all 'bout them."

Harry grinned in response. "Thanks Hagrid. So, are you ready to take us?"

Hagrid nodded enthusiastically, apparently grateful for the change of topic to a less emotional one. "O' course, Harry. Oh, but I almost forgot." He reached into one of the massive pockets that covered much of his overcoat and eventually drew out a cake in a box with Happy Birthday Harry written in green icing. "Think I mighta sat on it at some point though. Might be a bit squished, but it should taste all right. Happy birthday Harry."

Harry was surprised at this. He hadn't had a birthday cake since his first birthday before his parents died, and even if it was a little squished and honestly didn't look like the tastiest cake he had ever seen even discounting its smashed state, it was still a very nice gesture. "Thanks Hagrid. That's really nice of you." He glanced over his shoulder at Petunia and Dudley as he said, "We can just leave it here for now and eat it when I come back tonight. But don't eat any before then." He then looked back at Hagrid and asked, "Maybe you can stop in and share it with us when we get back from the shopping trip?"

Most people might have questioned it as strange that an eleven year old was basically making demands of his aunt, and even more surprised at the rapid nodding she gave in response. Hagrid was certainly not most people and didn't notice any of this. Instead he just handed the box to Harry and watched as Harry handed it over to his aunt, touched at Harry's desire to include him in his birthday celebration even though they had just met.

"O' course, Harry. Would be honored. Best be off though. Lot to do today."

Harry was excited as well. He had been looking forward to seeing some more magic and trying to figure out exactly how it was done for years now. "So how are we going to get to this Diagon Alley? Are we going to teleport, or fly or something?"

"Err…No. Going to take the bus, I suppose."

A very incredulous and disappointed Harry slowly replied, "The...bus?"

It turned out that 'the bus' was certainly not like the non-magical variety - Muggles, he was told they were called in the magical world. But though it was a lot faster and able to ignore all traffic, which was definitely a plus, it was also a very uncomfortable ride. Harry might be able to keep his balance easily because of his extensive training, but it was still annoying being constantly thrown around as the bus rapidly changed directions. Teleportation seemed much easier, and he didn't really understand why they hadn't gone that way. Maybe only some people could?

But eventually they had reached a dirty little pub called The Leaky Cauldron, which was apparently their destination. Harry had to give Hagrid an odd look, as if asking if this was really where they were supposed to go, but once again Hagrid proved to not be the most observant fellow. Eventually Harry just shrugged and continued to follow him into the dimly lit building that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since before Harry was born.

Once inside, the bartender, an old toothless bald man with matched the shoddy décor perfectly nodded in recognition of Hagrid and asked, "The usual, Hagrid?"

Hagrid once again clapped Harry on the shoulder, and once again didn't notice that Harry wasn't knocked away by the blow, though Harry was at least able to keep his reflexive tensing under control this time. "Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business."

The old man, Tom, apparently, looked closely at Harry before gasping in shock as replied, "Good Lord, is this - can this be...Bless my soul, Harry Potter...what an honor." At this, the whole bar fell silent and the old bartender rushed around and seized his hand, shaking it vigorously. Was he actually crying? Harry peered more closely at him to confirm this before looking around uncomfortably at all the staring people who likewise rose to rush towards him at this point, each eager to shake his hand or pat him on the back. Or just to be able to be in his presence, evidently.

Harry had faced this sort of adoration before in his previous life. There had actually been a fairly sizable religion centered around him being an actual god in the later part of his life in the Elemental Nations, regardless of what he tried to do to stop it. So this sort of mindless adulation was very recognizable to him. It was totally unexpected though. Harry had mistakenly created an entire picture of how he thought his life would likely go, often using parallels to his prior life based on the numerous similarities he had experienced so far, so this was quite a surprise.

He had fully expected to come into the Wizarding World disliked and looked down upon just as he had as a child and teenager as Naruto, and just as he had spent his childhood as Harry as well. Apparently that would certainly not be the case this time. He might have been hated by his relatives, or at best a mix of tolerated and feared lately, but it seemed that he was already loved in the Wizarding World.

Did this mean he would have, and he hesitated to even think it, but it must be done...fangirls? He almost gagged at the thought, but was barely able to maintain a smiling face for the benefit of all the people eager to meet him after being in the muggle world for almost a decade. He had been able to mostly avoid fangirls focused on him in his last life. Afterall, he had already been engaged by the time he had fully turned his reputation around from hated to universally respected, much less this sort of adoration. But it looked like he might have to bear fangirls this time. He was pretty sure that had been what had ultimately tipped the balance and driven Sasuke to evil though, so he would have to be careful.

Eventually Hagrid did usher Harry away from the crowds and through a magical portal through a brick wall into Diagon Alley itself, which he was thankful for. He might be somewhat used to crowds like that from his other life, but after he had gotten used to the feeling of being acknowledged by so many people, he hadn't really enjoyed it that much. Besides, at least those crowds had loved him for something he actually did, rather than whatever these people loved him for. "So, Hagrid. What was all of that about?"

Hagrid paused in his steps and looked down at Harry with confusion. "What do yah mean, Harry?"

"All of the hand-shaking and enthusiastic greetings. The congratulations and well-wishing. That can't be the normal greeting to people entering into the Wizarding World for the first time."

Hagrid looked shocked at this, but eventually he answered, "Well, yer famous Harry. I thought yeh knew. For, yeh know...for killing You-Know-Who."

"Oh, you mean Voldemort?" Hagrid flinched at this and quickly waved for Harry to be quiet.

He then whispered quietly, or at least quietly for Hagrid, so at a low rumble that couldn't be easily heard from more than a couple dozen feet away, "Yeh shouldn't say his name Harry."

"I shouldn't say his name? Why not? You actually want me to call him 'You-Know-Who'? What if someone doesn't know who?"

Hagrid clears his throat and looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, which they amazingly weren't, given the earlier attention he had received. "People jus' don' like it Harry. You-Know-Who scared a lot of people when he was around. Scares 'em still, I guess. They was dark days, with people disappearing, and anyone who tried to oppose him endin' up dead. Well, 'cept for Dumbledore, o' course. People don' even like thinkin' 'bout those days, an' You-Know-Who was the cause of it all."

Harry continued to give an incredulous look throughout the entire explanation. "People were so scared of him they were afraid to say his name? And still are a decade later? That's kind of insane. It's not like saying Voldemort's name will make him come back to life to kill you or something."

Hagrid once again flinched at Voldemort's name and shrugged uncomfortably. "Jus' the way it is Harry. But when yeh got rid o' him. Survived a curse that's never been survived before, and the whole country celebrated. That's why yeh are so famous. People call yeh the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry frowned, but nodded, "Oh. I always kind of assumed that was because of something my mother did before she was killed. I was only fifteen months old, so I don't think there was really anything I could have done to stop Voldemort. I think my mother should be the famous one, not me."

"I never really thought of it like that." Hagrid stood in deep thought, or deep thought for Hagrid, for a few moments, then shrugged. "Well, I don' know. Dumbledore said it was yeh that stopped...him, an' that's good enough fer me, and fer most everybody else too."

Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't respond to this. "How did they even know I was Harry Potter though? It's not like I was wearing a sign."

"Oh. Well, that would be because of yer scar, Harry. The most famous scar in the world, where You-Know-Who hit yeh with his killing curse."

Harry blinked in surprise at that. His hair cut was clipped fairly short, to make sure it wouldn't get in his eyes, or be a convenient handhold, should that come up. Besides, he had learned long ago to accept that if his hair was going to stand up no matter how long he made it, he might as well wear it short so it was easy to take care of. Of course this made the scar very obvious to anyone looking. But that was easily solved.

Harry put his hand over the scar as if he was rubbing it, while what he was really doing was placing a seal over the thing which would conceal it from notice for anyone who didn't already know it was there. By the time he removed his hand several seconds later, the seal had faded from the view. And while Hagrid would still be able to see the scar, knowing it should be there, anyone who didn't know he was Harry Potter just wouldn't notice the thing.

"Well, I guess it's time to start shopping? Where should we go first?"

Hagrid brightened, clearly glad to be off of the subject of Voldemort. "Well, first, we need tah go to Gringotts Bank to get some of the money yer parents left from the Goblins."

Harry was surprised by the mention of goblins, but didn't let it phase him. "Oh, well I brought money. I think I should have enough to cover it."

"Oh, well yeh can't use muggle money in Diagon Alley. Yeh need Wizarding money - Galleons, Sickles, an' knuts. But don' yeh worry. Yer mum an' dad left yah plenty."

By this time they were approaching a large white building with columns in the front and bronze doors. Once they entered, they came to a second silver set of doors with a warning against thievery in the form of a poem engraved on them, which Harry pretty much ignored. However, he was quite interested in the short humanoids with rather inhuman features and very long fingers and feet, dressed in a uniform of red and gold.

Hagrid nodded at him as they passed and the strange thing bowed to them both as it opened the door. Hagrid nodded at the creatures and stated, "Err...thats a goblin. They run the bank."

They must have been a bloodline that separated from humanity a while back, though he had no idea why anyone would pursue a bloodline like that. He couldn't see any possible advantages. It was obvious what the bloodline Hagrid was descended from gave - great strength and probably durability, though it didn't seem quite worth it to Harry, given the negatives of such inconspicuous size and, if Hagrid was any indication, probably reduced intelligence. In the case of these 'goblins' though, it was likely that some advantages did exist, and were simply not physically obvious. Otherwise the bloodline wouldn't have lasted, and certainly wouldn't have grown into what was considered an entire species of people.

It was something to think about and if necessary, do some research on, at a later time. For now, they approached a long counter with a row of goblins sitting on high stools writing in ledgers and weighing coins while they dealt with the lines of wizards. Moving to one of the open goblins, Hagrid greeted him and said, "Mornin', We've come to take some money outta Harry Potter's trust vault."

The goblin briefly glanced up at Hagrid before giving an even briefer look at Harry. "You have his key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere." At this point Hagrid started emptying many of his numerous pockets out onto the counter looking for the key, apparently. Harry actually ended up being slightly impressed by just how much junk the large man was carrying around with him. The goblin looked decidedly less impressed as old pieces of biscuits and many other objects that had no business being in a man's pockets were dumped onto his formerly pristine counter.

"Ah, here it is." He held up a small golden key, which the goblin examined and stated his approval of. Hagrid then continued speaking, "An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore. It's about You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

After quickly taking the letter from Hagrid and examining it, the goblin nodded. "Very well, I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

But Harry quickly interrupted at this point. "Actually, can we go down separately? If Hagrid's business is private, I probably shouldn't be involved, and I would like time to examine my own vault." Without asking, he took the key to his vault which the goblin had set on the counter while he read Hagrid's letter. This received a frown from both the goblin and Hagrid, though Hagrid seemed more confused about what to do. Harry honestly didn't care though. He got the impression that Hagrid had planned on getting that key back, and this was the best way to make sure he kept it. It was his vault, afterall. Not that he really cared about money, since he could make it more or less at will, but he didn't want other people accessing his money without his permission. It was just a bad habit to allow people to get into.

"Err...Harry, Dumbledore told me ta look after yeh today. I think it'd be best..." He trailed off as Harry waved the comment away.

"Oh, I'm sure I will be fine. Nothing is going to happen in a trip to a vault, and it would be faster if we did both at the same time rather than me having to hang around while you went to Dumbledore's vault, and you hang around while I go to mine." Hagrid hesitantly nodded. He clearly wasn't totally comfortable going against what Dumbledore had apparently told him, but Harry was relying on the fact that Dumbledore had apparently also impressed the importance of whatever he was getting.

Having seen an agreement between the two, the goblin at the counter called out for another goblin called Jawripper to take Hagrid to vault 713, while Griphook escorted Harry, who waved at Hagrid and told him they could meet up in the lobby shortly.

As he separated from Hagrid, Harry decided to strike up a conversation and learn more about goblins in general. "So, how did Goblins become bankers, exactly? The stories about goblins in the muggle world always portray you more as warriors. I was pretty shocked to find you ran a bank instead."

Griphook frowned heavily up at him, but finally did respond as he led him out of the lobby. "Goblins are warriors. But after the last war with wizards, we agreed to be the bankers for the Wizarding world, rather than continue to fight."

Harry blinked in shock at this revelation. "Wait, so wizards had just finished having a war with goblins, and right after it was over, it was decided to turn over all our money? You must have kicked our asses." He laughed at this point, until he trailed off when he found Griphook was definitely not laughing.

With a sneer, Griphook waited until Harry stopped laughing, then answered, "Actually, wizards were winning the war, but being cowards, could not stand the losses they were taking in the winning, so they came to an agreement with us. All we ever wanted was your gold, so your Ministry of Magic decided to turn it over to us, if only to manage."

"And...they agreed to that? Turning over all our money to a recently hostile group that apparently openly admitted that they just wanted our gold? That seems insane."

"Well, yes, we often find that wizards are insane."

"But how did we know you wouldn't just close the doors on the bank, and laugh at us that we had willingly given you all our gold?"

At this Griphook's sneer turned angry and became more of a snarl as he looked at Harry. "Are you accusing us of theft? That is a very serious claim."

Harry cleared his throat at the tense atmosphere, though he couldn't bring himself to actually be concerned. "I wasn't accusing you of anything. I was just saying it seemed like a foolish thing to do on our part, since you could have, and still could, I suppose, take advantage of our trust pretty easily, if what you want is our gold anyway. Besides, how did you get individual humans to deposit money into your vaults anyway? Right after a war, even if the government said you could open a bank, I would think wizards would continue to bank however they had before, rather than rush to bring their money to you."

Griphook was still pretty displeased, but apparently somewhat mollified. "Our agreement with your government made it illegal for any other than goblins to operate a bank dealing in Wizarding currency."

Harry was once more forced to stop in shock before he caught himself. "They gave you a legal monopoly? Your interest rates must suck. If there isn't any alternative, why give good rates..."

Griphook was back to sneering again. "Interest received for deposits is a muggle idea. In the Wizarding World, you pay us to rent a vault and guard your gold. If you wish to take a loan, we use our own gold for that."

"What? That's ridiculous. I can keep my own money safe, thank you very much...Can I go ahead and pull all my money out of Gringotts now?"

Of course Griphook was back to snarling again at this. "Until your majority, you may not remove money from your family vault, only your trust vault. And even if you empty your trust vault, you cannot close it until you reach your majority anyway, and fees will continue to be charged to your family vault, regardless of the amount in the trust vault."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Of course they will. I guess you were right before when you thought I was accusing you of theft. An entire race of thieves who just like to do it legally, or as legal as strong arming an entire government through the threat of continued war can be. I guess having us being the only ones who care about the lives of our people was a powerful motivator to take advantage of."

It should perhaps be noted at this point that Harry had a great deal of experience in various negotiations in his previous life. However, those negotiations were almost always centered on one of two things. First, that Naruto was personal friends with almost every leader on the continent, causing negotiations to generally go fairly smoothly. And second, the abject fear that his name gave to those who were not his friends. He rarely actually made any sort of threats, but the knowledge that he could casually destroy your entire city by himself was always just sort of there, so people tended to rush to accommodate what he wanted. All they had to do is remember that there used to be a minor ninja village known as the Village Hidden in the Grass and any fear they might have forgotten came back. It had been such a long time since he had really dealt with groups opposed to him who weren't fully aware of his abilities, he was out of practice, to say the least. That combined with his natural brashness and the total absence of any fear of...well, anything, created an interesting way of talking to those he didn't like.

Harry had continued strolling along the hallway they were walking down quite casually, approaching one of what looked like a sort of a small open railroad car, which Griphook had previously been leading him towards. But he quickly stopped when he noticed the goblin had likewise stopped and was staring at him with what started as shock, but looked to be morphing into rage. "What?"

Griphook was quick to respond. "What?! What? You dare accuse us of stealing what is rightfully ours by contract? I have dueled for less."

Harry rolled his eyes yet again as he responded, "The fact that you forced someone to make a contract doesn't make it any less stealing. In fact it kind of highlights the stealing. If someone threatened to kill your family if you didn't sign over all your money, would that make it not stealing, just because you signed a contract agreeing to it?"

Griphook was spitting and snarling enough now that his words were somewhat difficult to decipher. "Of course it wouldn't be stealing. But I would never sign such a thing. Contracts are sacred, and if you wizards..." Harry could hear the derision drip off of the word as Griphook drew it out before continuing, "decided to sign a contract giving us rights, those are our rights, not theft."

"You would refuse to sign away money even if it meant your family would die? That's disgusting. And from how you said it, that's just a standard way of seeing things for your culture. Ugg...Well, come on little thief, show me the way to my vault. I haven't signed it away, so you have to don't you." Harry sounded, at worst, deeply annoyed with Griphook and goblin culture at this point as he spoke.

Griphook, on the other hand, was lost in his rage. Apparently goblins were used to dealing with wizard's arrogance and looking down on goblins as if they were lesser beings. They were even used to distrust and wizards who believed that goblins were greedy and possibly theives. They were not used to having wizards casually openly insult their integrity and culture to their faces in goblin territory. So when Griphook lunged at Harry with clear murderous intent, Harry probably shouldn't have been surprised. But he was. Well, slightly, anyway.

Not that it mattered in the slightest. Harry might still be far, far below what his physical abilities had once been at their height in his old body and what he hoped to reach again in this one eventually. But that wasn't saying much, since at his most powerful, Harry had been able punch hard enough to crack mountains and move fast enough it took a highly trained eyes just to hope to be able to see the blur of movement. With the lost ability to enhance his training with chakra, he was already considerably beyond anything mere normal muscles could possibly hope to match, and with over a century of practice with taijutsu, it was unlikely he would run across many who could match his skill either.

So Harry didn't even have to move from where he stood as he casually flicked out his left hand to catch Griphook's leading forearm, lifting it above his head as he thrust out his right palm against the goblin's extended elbow to force the joint to bend very much the wrong way with a shark crack. But this was just one of Griphook's worries as he went flying over Harry's head and slammed into the opposite wall, dazing him and breaking his nose and probably some teeth while he was at it.

But pain wasn't enough to break through a goblin in the grip of a berserker fury. In fact, it only encouraged it. However, before Griphook could move, Harry was kneeling on his back and Griphook was suddenly filled with fear. No, more than fear, it was absolute terror. The sure knowledge that he was going to die.

Killing Intent was a technique in which the use of chakra was employed to focus a ninja's pure will and sure knowledge that they could kill someone and inflict that knowledge on another. Against someone with even remotely close to equal chakra reserves who knew how to keep a focused mind, it was relatively easily combated. Against a goblin who didn't even have chakra reserves, just a small pool of spiritual energy and had never even heard of killing intent, it was more than enough to break him out of his frenzy and make him focus very carefully on Harry's quiet and calm words.

"Now, I don't really want to fight you, but I will if I have to. I will kill you if I have to. But you know that now, don't you. You understand how utterly futile it is to fight me." He paused, looking down at the very still goblin, feeling slight pity for the now rather pathetic creature. On the other hand, nothing he had said was untrue, and he refused to tip-toe around a bunch of thieves who got off on terrorizing humans into agreeing to their demands. So after a short pause, he continued, "Nod if you agree." A short but emphatic nod was what he immediately got, so Harry stood up off of Griphook's back. "Good. Besides, if you had killed me, imagine the trouble goblins would be in for killing the Boy-Who-Lived. Now take me to my vault, and hopefully we won't see each other again until I come after my majority to empty out my family vault."

After another short pause in which he let Griphook consider this point, Harry continued, "Now, if you would like, I can heal your injuries for you, and we can continue on down to my vault." But Griphook just glared at him, though his eyes quickly dropped, unable to meet Harry's steady gaze as he turned away and led the boy to one of the carts, cradling his useless arm and ignoring his fairly heavily bleeding face.

The trip through the tunnels in the goblin's cart was done in silence. Harry kept his Sharingan active to memorize the pathway and all of the vaults passed, but kept any opinion to himself. He was tempted to ask if the cart could go any faster, as the trip might have actually been made exciting if so. Griphook clearly wasn't in the mood though, and it probably wasn't the time to be pushing things. Harry liked to think he could demonstrate some restraint sometimes, at least.

So eventually they reached a large vault door and Griphook requested Harry's key while clearly struggling to keep his snarl under control. But he did manage it, seeming to remember the fear he had felt so briefly, yet so strongly, only minutes before. So he took the key and slid it into the large door, opening it to reveal literal piles of gold, silver, and bronze. It was enough to make even Harry's eyes widen. Sure, he could have created duplicate stacks of gold easily enough, but this was presumably natural precious materials, and a lot more than Harry had assumed. It was supposed to be a trust vault after all, so Harry had thought it would likely just be enough to comfortably make his way through school, not piles that had to be a decent fortune even for an adult. He was sure he could probably come up with some sort of use for it eventually though.

So Harry entered the vault and almost closed the door behind him to give privacy. He did make sure to send a quick glare towards the goblin before doing so, as he was sure the temptation to slam the door shut and try and leave him there would exist. Harry almost hoped he would. Griphook's expression when he stepped out of the black flames devouring the massive metal door was sure to be hilarious. But he was pretty sure that now that the goblin had his anger under control, he would be aware that having the famous Boy-Who-Lived disappear in goblin tunnels with no explanation would cause massive problems.

So instead, he focused on using Kamui to send all the piles of money into his personal subspace storage dimension. Of all of the four abilities his Mangekyo Sharingan eye granted, that one was definitely his favorite. He supposed every user of that eye had their favorite. By the end, Sasuke had been skilled enough with the flames of Amaterasu he probably could have performed surgery with the black flames. Although he had never faced it personally, from reports Itachi's mastery of the ultimate genjutsu of Tsukuyomi was said to be so great he could control every aspect of reality within the illusion, even massively bending time itself. And Madara had achieved far greater mastery with the ultimate defense of Susanoo than any before or since. Not even he could have quite matched any of them in their specialty, even after decades of practice and near infinite chakra reserves to use in the techniques. But in the fourth technique of Kamui, the ultimate space-time manipulation of the Mangekyo Sharingan, he had been able to surpass even its proclaimed master. Of course it sometimes made him question himself that he had followed in the footsteps of Tobi, of all people, but it was still his favorite and most useful of the Sharingan's techniques.

Effectively what the technique allowed was stepping or sending someone or something out of reality. You could then step back to whatever location you wished, allowing near-instant teleportation to anywhere without even the need for seal markers like the Hiraishin required. Or you could use it as an attack to send an enemy, or part of an enemy into nul-space, as he called it, or even as a defense to send an attack there. You could step into a sub-space dimension to store whatever you wanted there, accessible only by you. Harry had even managed to find a way to link this dimension to his soul so it came with him, allowing him to bring a stockpile of weapons, and other materials he thought he might not have access to in the future. He had even been able to bring a number of barrels of Ichiraku Ramen under stasis seals, just in case he wasn't able to obtain the right ingredients to make it, though thankfully that hadn't ended up being an issue. And finally, it was possible to make a sort of half-step into nul-space, allowing you to observe an area and be seen, but be totally immaterial and immune to attacks, though most attacks were impossible from that state as well.

The incredible versatility of Kamui just made it so useful, even if it was less blatantly powerful than Amaterasu or Susanoo, and he just rarely had the need to spend subjective days torturing someone in a few seconds, so Tsukuyomi rarely even came up.

But with all of his money safely put away, he reopened the vault door and gave a bright smile at the thieving goblin. "Ok, I'm ready to go."

The trip back to the lobby was just as awkwardly silent as the cart-ride down had been, and Harry even noticed Griphook looking over at the guards, and had to wonder if he was thinking about calling them over, but apparently decided it wouldn't be a good idea. Certainly he noticed all the guards looking strangely at the bloody and wounded goblin with torn and rumpled clothes escorting Harry. Even Hagrid noticed that as he walked over and gave one strange look at Griphook before looking back at Harry. "Err...So, everything alright then, Harry?"

But Harry just smiled widely at him and said in an excited voice. "Yeah. It was pretty boring, but it went fine. Now let's go see what's in Diagon Alley."

Ragnok was in equal measure incredulous and displeased. Neither were generally common emotions for the Goblin King of the British Isles. But he was certainly feeling them today as he glared down at the kneeling Griphook.

"So let me make sure I understand you correctly. You are saying that Potter walked in, and in the short time it took to walk from the lobby to the carts, he called not just you, but goblins in general thieves, and said he was disgusted by our culture. You then attempted to attack this eleven year old child, but failed. At which point you meekly took him to his vault, which he emptied. And he stated he plans to empty his family vault upon his majority, a vault which has been in our control for centuries. Would that be an accurate summary?"

Griphook pressed his upper body and face harder against the ground from his kneeling position. His still broken nose and arm probably hurt a lot in that position. Ragnok deeply hoped so.

"Well...Yes, Your Majesty. Factually speaking, that is correct." However, he hurried to elaborate, "But he is far more powerful than any eleven year old should be. More powerful than an adult should be! I may not be a renowned warrior such as yourself, but I am well trained, yet he handled me like a newborn puppy. I didn't even see him move, and he threw me across the room with one arm! And the...fear he could project was unbelievable. I couldn't even move. You may think me..." He hesitated at this point, but forced the words out, "You may think that I am a coward, but he was not someone who could be faced by the likes of me. Not and have any chance of survival."

Ragnok idly toyed with the hilt of his sword as he examined the sniveling goblin in front of him. One of the most pathetic specimens he had ever seen, in fact. "Perhaps...But if that was the case, you should have died like an honorable goblin, not lived like...like this. Perhaps then we could have done something to avenge you, taking your body to the Ministry as evidence of Potter's crimes in our caves. But it is good that you failed. The boy wasn't wrong that killing him would have drastic repercussions for us. We are not yet ready for war with the wizards, and that is what might well have come from such an act.

Still...something must be done. The loss of gold when he closes the Potter accounts, and possibly the Black accounts as well is bad enough. Add to that the possible damage of word getting out that the Boy-Who-Lived believes goblins to be untrustworthy thieves, and there may be movement for greater restrictions on us, leading once again to a war we are not ready for. And of course, that doesn't consider the dishonor done to you, your clan, and all goblins."

Griphook waited for a few seconds, but eventually couldn't take the pressure and asked, "What would you have me do to make up for this dishonor?"

Slowly a grin formed on Ragnok's face. A grin filled with sharp teeth and the sure knowledge that death and humiliation would come to his enemies. "I am told you are clever Griphook. Not the most skilled warrior, but cunning, at least. So perhaps it is right that you be the one to make up for your own failure.

First, you shall make sure that you sell the information that Potter has withdrawn around one hundred thousand galleons out of the safety of the bank to the right parties. Given what you described it is unlikely, but it's always possible someone will get lucky and take care of our problem for us. At worst it should cause problems for the boy.

Then it will be up to you to find out where Potter's weak spots lie. Friends, family, reputation, I don't care. Find out what he treasures. Then we will know exactly where to push. And once we know that and can take...appropriate measures against these vulnerabilities, we will force him to come to us. Then he will either be on his knees begging for forgiveness and signing a binding contract with certain concessions of his own, or he will die, but in a way that cannot be traced back to us.

Oh, and Griphook. You will take care of any bribes or payments necessary from your own clan's accounts. This is first and foremost your honor you seek to regain. It is disgraceful enough that you must come to me for help; you shall at least pay for your own solution." At this point the goblin king leaned forward and growled with even greater intensity. "And know this, Griphook. This is your only opportunity to regain lost honor. You shall find a way to crush Potter, one way or the other, or you will die, and I will find one who can."

A/N: And that's chapter 3. Hopefully everyone enjoyed it.

As you see, this will not be a 'friendly little goblins fix Harry's problems because he remembered Griphook's name' story. There is no indication in the cannon that goblins are friendly at all. In fact, every indication is given that goblins as a species are vicious little creatures who would like nothing more than to be rid of all wizards, kind and respectful ones included. And I have always found it an absurd cliché that goblins are just waiting for a wizard to come along and be nice and respectful to them, at which point they will do everything they can to help out that wizard, often including breaking laws.

Instead, goblins are consistently shown as entirely centered around greed. To the point that they are more concerned about getting 'their' property back than helping the destruction of Voldemort, someone who is sure to come for them too eventually. So if they care more about their money and precious artifacts than their own survival, I can't imagine they would care more about helping Harry just because he was nice to them. Granted Harry clearly isn't exactly going to go out of his way to be nice and respectful to goblins in this story either, but that isn't really his way of doing things, especially when he was just making reasonable points.

On that subject, I highly recommend the oneshot story An Unwise Conspiracy by Nia River for my personal favorite portrayal of goblins in all of fanfiction. Its short, to the point, pokes fun at several of the worst fanfiction clichés(the 'goblins are super friendly and helpful if you are nice to them' and 'Harry is the heir to a dozen different houses that for some strange reason no one bothered to claim before' clichés, to be specific), and is quite awesome too.

Please review though! I don't care if it's just a short, "I liked it," a detailed breakdown of what you think I did wrong (and hopefully can improve on), or even just informing me of a grammar or spelling mistake, I would appreciate it. But please no flames. I don't mind criticism as long as it is constructive, but a simple, "This is the worst thing ever written," or "You made Harry too powerful. You suck" will be ignored.