Coming to Gringotts because Hagrid wanted to take Harry to his vault. So the group divided into two.
Arriving at a Gringotts, Hagrid paid no heed to the impassive faces of the goblins and greeted them warmly: "Morning! We need to withdraw some funds from Mr. Harry Potter's vault."
Upon hearing Harry Potter's name, the goblin behind the counter stood up in surprise and leaned forward to get a better look at Harry.
These goblins seemed to intentionally set their counters high, taller than what would be comfortable for normal adults, due to their short stature.
Harry lifted his hat, revealing the lightning scar.
"It's truly Potter..." he muttered, settling back at his desk, and then asked: "Do you have his key, sir?"
"Bring it here," Hagrid said, emptying his pockets onto the counter. The goblin frowned, patiently waiting until Hagrid retrieved a small golden key from the jumble of items.
"There should be no issue," the goblin confirmed after inspecting the key.
Suddenly, Hagrid interjected, "I also have a letter here written by Professor Dumbledore. It concerns 'that matter' in the underground vault of No. 713."
After carefully perusing the letter, the goblin nodded, turned around, and shouted: "Griphook! Escort them to the underground vault."
Later, Harry finally beheld for the first time the confidence exuded by the vault, renowned as the world's most secure.
The labyrinthine underground passages seemed endless, and the swift cart reminded him of the first time he was whisked away by a flying dragon.
Wait, was there truly a dragon there?!
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of a shadow resembling a dragon, tinged with fire. Before he could react, the cart sped past that section of the tunnel.
Before long, they arrived at vault No. 687. Upon opening it, Harry beheld heaps of gold coins.
Hagrid ushered Harry inside and then pulled out a bag, stuffing it with a generous handful of coins. "That should cover two semesters. I'll hold onto the rest for you."
"Wait!" Harry interjected suddenly. "Hagrid, could you give me the vault key?"
"Well... Harry, you see, money can be quite tempting for someone your age..."
"I can give it to Felix," Harry suggested. "Magic always requires money, doesn't it? I can't keep relying on Dumbledore or you whenever I'm short on funds."
"Of course, you can always rely on me!" Hagrid affirmed earnestly.
Harry widened his eyes, fixing Hagrid with a determined gaze.
"Oh, alright! Stop staring at me like that. I'll hand the key to Felix, then," Hagrid relented.
With that settled, Hagrid passed the bag of gold coins to Harry and gave the vault key to Felix.
Then, they revisited vault No. 713 mentioned earlier by Hagrid. Gazing at the vault, which lacked a key and required a special incantation to open, Harry couldn't help but wonder what lay inside.
All he found, however, was a small cloth bag.
He then noticed the half-smile playing on Felix's lips.
"Did you discover something, Felix?" Harry inquired, curiosity piqued.
"It's nothing, just found it amusing. Here, this is for you," Felix replied, handing Harry the vault key.
Harry accepted it gratefully, remarking with a smile, "I knew you'd come through this Felix."
"It's merely money," Felix shrugged nonchalantly.
After a moment of consideration, Harry said, "Felix, you can keep it, if you like. Frankly, I'm not sure I can resist such a significant temptation. And having the keys to my own vault in the hands of outsiders feels... unsettling. Though Hagrid's intentions were genuine, it's just... uncomfortable."
"Whatever you wish," Felix replied, reclaiming the key.
At that moment, Hagrid returned, and the three, along with the goblin, promptly ascended to the surface.
At that moment, Hermione also exchanged her currency into galleons.
Hagrid emerged looking somewhat disoriented, his demeanor reminiscent of Harry's first encounter with the Knight Bus.
"Well... let's go get your robes," Hagrid suggested, leading the way toward Madam Malkin's robe shop.
Once the two children were inside the shop, Hagrid turned to Felix and Chris, shaking his head. "Would you fancy a drink... Honestly, I'm feeling quite unsettled now and could use a stiff drink."
Chris and Felix nodded almost reflexively.
"Dear, let's go grab a quick drink and be back shortly," Chris informed Hermione, using Harry's pseudonym "Pete."
Helplessly, Hermione watched the three depart before entering the robe shop with Harry.
Mrs. Malkin, a short, rotund witch with a warm smile and clad in purple robes, greeted them. "Are you here for Hogwarts uniforms, dear... Oh, it's Harry Potter! What a pleasure to meet you. Heading to Hogwarts this year, are you?!"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry confirmed.
Mrs. Malkin led them to the back of the shop, where a pale, slender young man was present.
Placing Harry and Hermione on stools beside the young man, Mrs. Malkin instructed them to remove their coats. She then proceeded to fit them with robes, assisted by another clerk who pinned out the appropriate lengths.
"Hey!" the thin boy suddenly interjected. "Are you two heading to Hogwarts as well?"
"Yes," Harry replied.
"My parents are buying my books next door," he drawled slowly, as if his throat were obstructed.
"I'm going to drag them to see the broomsticks afterward. I don't understand why first-years can't have their own brooms. If they won't get me one, I'll make Dad buy me one and sneak it in somehow."
"Isn't that against the rules?" Hermione queried.
"Who cares," he shrugged apathetically. "Do you have your own broom?"
"No," Harry replied casually, finding the boy's demeanor rather patronizing.
The boy continued to prattle on, but neither Harry nor Hermione paid much attention.
"Oh, look at that man," the boy suddenly remarked, gesturing toward the large window at the shop's entrance.
Harry and Hermione turned to see the trio returning, with Hagrid catching their gaze through the window and holding up two hefty ice cream cones, undoubtedly meant for them.
"And the man with him... that's a Muggle watch, isn't it? He seems like a Muggle-born," the boy observed.
He was referring to Mr. Granger.
"I've always thought they shouldn't admit others. What do you think? The school should only accept students from pure-blood families—"
"Are you saying he's not good enough?" Harry interjected, cutting through the boy's prattle.
"What?!" The boy was taken aback by the unexpected remark from his companion.