It was very hard for Harry Potter to keep his eyes from widening in astonishment when he first entered Diagon Alley. His field of vision seemed to have expanded in the last second from when he had first entered the alley to now. He was very thankful that within the hustle and bustle of the crowd, no one would notice him walking out from the archway that led to the Leaky Cauldron.
Harry's eyes swept back and forth across the wizarding alley, each sight, every smell, every feeling he experienced was committed to memory. It was wondrous. Incredible. Never before had Harry ever seen anything like the place he was in now. For the first time in years, Harry felt very much like a small child getting excited over seeing something new.
Diagon Alley was, in essence, an alley. It had one main road made of a cobblestone street upon which hundreds if not thousands of witches and wizards tread daily. This road was inlaid with more roads, small branches that wove an interconnecting path. Alongside the road were large buildings that were spaced so close together there was barely any room between them. These buildings were shops, stores that sold all kinds of goods that could only be considered magical. Harry saw everything from shops selling cauldrons to shops selling a vast array of different animals such as mice, toads and owls to clothing stores whose clothing looked like something out of the fifteenth century; stores that sold potions ingredients; anything and everything he could think of that might be sold in the wizarding world seemed to be here. And Harry, his eyes moving in vast sweeps around the alley, made sure that nothing escaped his gaze. He wanted to commit everything he saw this day to memory, one he would look back on as his first steps into the wizarding world.
He looked beyond the throng of people. Far above their heads, standing in the distance was a large white building. Gringotts, the wizarding bank, and the first place Harry needed to visit.
Setting off at a brisk, yet unhurried pace, Harry Potter wove his way between the throng of marching people with ease. Like always his movements were made with a grace that was the combined gift granted to him through his eidetic memory and martial arts training. As he moved, his left hand came up, fingers brushing up against the red cloth now hiding the scar on his forehead. Now that he knew how famous he was, and what the consequences would be if anyone were to discover his identity, he'd conjured a bandana to hide his most prominent feature. His scar. It wasn't much of a disguise, he was willing to admit, but it seemed to be working, and that was all that mattered.
As Gringotts bank loomed ever closer, Harry began to realize just how imposing the building truly was. It was large, easily towering over everything else. Made of snow-white marble and at least six stories high. Long, sweeping columns were set into each story of the building, and Harry had to wonder if they were there as a support, or merely decoration. At the front of the building, cast in bold lettering above the entryway were the words Gringotts Bank.
Harry ascended the large, white stone steps and reached the set of burnished bronze doors that led into the wizarding bank. On either side of the doors were a pair of what Harry could only guess were Goblins, the race that owned the bank and governed wizarding finances. They were rather strange looking creatures, to him at least. They were short, with dark, leathery skin. They had long fingers and feet, and the one on the left had a pointed beard. Some of the more common traits, he deduced from the pair before him, was that most goblins seemed to have a long nose, equally long pointed ears, and very little hair on their heads. All this was taken in with a mere seconds glance, before Harry looked away. It was impolite to stare, after all.
He continued walking, the goblins parting the doors for him. He found himself in another room. An entrance hall, if he had to guess. On the other side of the hall was another set of doors, these ones silver.
Continuing on, Harry closed in on the doors and noticed they had words engraved on them:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
On either side of the door was another pair of goblins. They opened the doors, bowing as Harry made his way through.
A vast marble hall sprawled out before him as he entered the next room. Harry's sharp eyes swept through the room, his perfect memory allowing him to count the exact number of goblins roaming around. 125 of those goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling on large ledgers, weighing coins with brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. 352 doors led out of the hall, more goblins could be seen coming and going from these doors, sometimes leading witches and wizards through them and sometimes not. Harry took in everything, then made his way to the closest free goblin.
"Excuse me," he called out, bringing the goblins attention to him. Harry only just reached the top of the counter, so the goblin had to tilt his head down quite a ways to see him. "My name is Harry Potter and I was told that my parents owned a vault I can withdraw gold from."
According to Professor McGonagall the Potter family was quite rich. It had been she who had first suggested he head over to the bank. She didn't go into much detail other than to tell him that he needed to go to Gringotts in order to withdraw that money.
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