"Harry, I can't believe you did that," the curly-haired witch chastised. "I would have been more than happy to pay my part. As a matter of fact, as soon as I can I'm paying you back." You could see the calculations running through her brain as her eyes moved back and forth, like they were reading something in front of them only she could see.
"You don't have to do that, Hermione, I've got plenty of money left," the youngest teen shrugged. Ron scoffed in the background and was ignored. "What with Rita's latest article it's a good thing too. I mean, I can't go back to Hogwarts and the Ministry is out of the picture as well. I might as well live in the Muggle world, for all the rumors that have already started," he said bitterly.
"Oh, Harry, why is it always you?" his best friend asked. With the way she always stuck by him, that is exactly what Hermione was, his best friend.
"Don't know, don't care." To him it was par for the course, and he was tired of it. "I can tell you right now; I'm not going to put myself through all that again."
"What are you going to do about your NEWT's?" she asked giving him a sharp glare. Education was very important to her, and she didn't want to see Him lose the edge he'd get if he completed his seventh year.
Ron just stood to the side not offering his views, he'd let her try and talk Him back to Hogwarts.
"I'll figure out something. Look, I have to go," The youngest Potter said cutting off that argument before it started and pulled his head from the fire and closed the Floo.
The dark-haired wizard spent some of his time that night trying to recreate Hermione's bag. After dozens of failed attempts, in a fit of frustration, he yelled the spell at the bag he was using. He mispronounced a word and it backfired on him and hit a spot directly above his left shoulder. He tried to see what it could have possible hit, but there was nothing there. However, he felt the air move in displacement when he turned his head in that direction. As an experiment he took a piece of crumpled up paper and tossed it over his shoulder. It disappeared. He tried again and the same thing happened.
This could work, he thought. He held his right hand in front of the area and said, "Crumpled piece of parchment." Both pieces of paper came flying out to his hand. He spent the rest of the night experimenting and found it just like her bag. Bigger items just shrank into the invisible space and expanded when they were called out. He found out he had to be careful not to say certain words out loud, like 'empty', or everything would dump on to his foot, which was painful. He was delighted that he now had a way to store his gold and whatever else was in those vaults.
It was a tired young man that sat at the table and ate dinner. He finally looked at the blood test and noted there were three vaults with names he'd never heard of that now belonged to him. He did wonder how they came to be his, but he'd be damned if he asked the goblins. All five vaults added up to over a few million galleons, so Harry wouldn't have to worry about working anytime soon, which was good. He did notice that the demands of Gringotts would have wiped out his Potter account, which he was sure was the point. But the other four vaults more than made up for that.
The next day, Harry took everything he held valuable and placed them in, what he dubbed, his pocketspace. Making sure the Deathly Hallows were in there. No one was more surprised than he was when the three items appeared on his bed the day after the final battle. He tried to rid himself of them, but they kept coming back. He had no idea what that meant, but at least now he had a way to hide them.
On the day he said he'd be at Gringotts, The dark-haired wizard walked down Diagon Alley to complete his task. This time he looked around and saw all of the buildings that were in disrepair. There were still Muggle-borns lining the street begging for money. He felt sorry for them and was glad that toad of a woman was now in Azkaban for all her crimes.