Sharpclaw growled and sneered, "We will take what is due us, and then we want you to clear out every single bit of your money and valuables. You can tell your two friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger, they are no longer welcome in Gringotts and they have one week to clear their accounts. We are done with you." He pointedly turned his back on the dark-haired teen.
"Fine," he said, not the least bit surprised, but still angry at these nasty beings. "I'll be back the day after tomorrow to clear my vaults. If you haven't settled the debt by then it's not my fault." He got up abruptly, snatched up both lists and stormed out of the room, holding his wounded hand tightly against his chest.
The angry teen made his way back to Grimmauld Place unmolested. Harry had Kreacher bring some healing potions for his hand and hoped he was in time to keep it from scarring. He took the potion, applied the Dittany and was relieved when the wound healed unblemished.
He used the Floo to call the Burrow; Mrs. Weasley was the one to answer. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," The dark-haired wizard said politely. "Are Ron and Hermione around?"
"Oh, Harry dear, why haven't you been coming to dinner? We haven't seen you in over a week," the Weasley mother asked sadly. She had lost a lot of weight, and her eyes were swollen and red, like she never stopped crying. Her usual motherly demeanor was accented with grief, making her more of a mother hen then she had been.
"I've been rather busy, Mrs. Weasley. As a matter of fact, I have much to do now. Sorry for being rude, but I really need to talk to Ron and Hermione." He didn't want to have to explain himself to the kindly woman, not when he was in such a foul mood.
"I'll just go and get them, dear. You come to dinner sometime soon. Do you understand, young man?" Molly demanded gently yet firm. She missed the boy she thought of as her seventh son.
"I'll try, Mrs. Weasley," He hedged. The few times he had been to the Burrow were awkward and unpleasant. Harry wasn't sure if it was just their grieving or if they subconsciously blamed him for the losses. After the way Andromeda treated him, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter. Merlin knew, he blamed himself.
She left the room and a few minutes later his friends appeared.
"Hello, Harry, how are you doing?" the curly-haired witch asked. She looked frazzled, her hair was wild and her eyes were bloodshot. He knew she was studying hard to find a way to get her parents' memories back. He wasn't sure if she would find a way before Hogwarts started, or if she was going to have to put it off. He knew that that was eating at her.
"Alright, Harry?" was Ron's greeting. He actually looked rather well. He gained back all the weight he lost when they were on the run.
"I'm fine, thanks," came Harry's standard reply. "I wanted to warn you that Gringotts is threatening to close your accounts. You need to go and clear anything you own out of there, soon."
"Well, that's fine," Ron shrugged. "I don't have a vault."
"No, but, they might fine your parents," the green-eyed teen warned. He didn't know if it was true or not, but he wasn't going to take that chance.
"Alright, I'll warn them, it's not like there's a lot there," the redhead mumbled. Money was always a sore spot for Ron.
"I only just opened the account, right before we started hunting the you-know-what's," Hermione said thoughtfully. "There is very little there, so it will be easy to get it out. It is a shame that human/goblin relations are so bitter. Maybe there is something I… "
"Hermione," The youngest Potter interrupted her spiel, knowing any attempt for better relations would be futile. Especially if they came from any of the Golden Trio, the goblins made their views very clear. "Do you think you can show me the spell you used on your bag? I don't see myself lugging a bunch of trunks full of gold down Diagon Alley."
"Honestly, Harry, don't you read? I showed you the book it was in when we were camping, just so you would know," she answered back, a bit harsh.
"I know, Hermione, but you have that book in your bag," he defended himself. "Plus, I had a bit more to worry about at that time."
"Oh, right, sorry," she stuttered. "I'll go get it." And with that she left the room, leaving Ron and Harry with little to talk about. The two teen boys had a simple conversation on Quidditch until their female friend returned. A few minutes later she returned and handed the book through the Floo.
"Oh, before I forget, don't let those greedy bastards—"Language, Harry," snapped Hermione— try and make you pay for the damages. I've already paid them. I wouldn't put it passed those… goblins to try and get more," he spat in disgust.