Hagrid led Harry through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley toward the towering marble structure in the distance. As they approached, Harry saw that the doors of the bank were enormous—brass and polished, with a pair of goblins standing at attention on either side. The goblins' sharp, intelligent eyes flickered over Harry as they passed.
Inside, the air was cool and filled with the scent of old books and metal. The high ceilings and vast marble floors made the place feel grand and ancient, almost like a temple to money. Goblins moved efficiently behind the counters, tallying numbers and counting stacks of gold coins, while others guided customers to various vaults.
Hagrid led Harry to a counter where a goblin with a hooked nose and sharp eyes awaited them. The goblin didn't smile, but his tone was polite enough.
"Can I help you, sir?" the goblin asked, eyeing Harry with some interest.
"Aye, we're here to access Harry Potter's vault," Hagrid said with a nod, and the goblin's eyes flickered briefly with recognition.
"Very well," the goblin said. "Please wait here."
He scuttled off behind a desk, emerging moments later with a small, ornate key that he handed to Hagrid. The goblin's thin lips didn't move much, but his eyes studied Harry with an almost predatory interest.
"Thank you," Hagrid said, his large hand gripping the key as they made their way to a narrow side passage. The goblin, still eyeing them, gestured to a cart waiting nearby.
"This way," Hagrid muttered to Harry. He seemed entirely unfazed by the goblin's scrutiny, but Harry couldn't help feeling uncomfortable under the goblin's piercing gaze.
Hagrid helped Harry climb into the cart, and they both settled into the wooden seats as a goblin driver took his place at the front, pulling on a large lever. The cart lurched forward with a creak, and the ride began.
The tunnel was dark and narrow, twisting and turning in ways Harry didn't think a cart should be able to navigate. The cart picked up speed quickly, and before long, they were careening down what seemed like a sheer drop into the depths of the earth.
Harry felt his stomach drop as they raced along, the cold, damp air rushing past his face. But it wasn't just the speed that unsettled him—it was the strange, eerie glow in the walls that seemed to flicker like faint, distant stars.
Hagrid, who had been grinning in excitement at first, suddenly looked unwell. His face had turned an odd shade of green, and his hand gripped the side of the cart with white knuckles. He cleared his throat and wiped his mouth, but the speed of the cart made it impossible for him to hold himself steady.
"I'm not sure I'm cut out for this," Hagrid muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "A bit too fast for my liking."
The goblin at the front of the cart didn't seem to care. It pushed on, going faster and faster, as if the ride itself had no intention of slowing.
Hagrid's discomfort grew. "Oi, slow down a bit, will ya?" he bellowed, but the goblin merely gave him a glance that seemed as indifferent as the rolling tunnels around them. Hagrid's hand shot to his stomach, his face paling even further.
Harry looked at him, concerned, but Hagrid only waved him off. "I'll be alright," he muttered, though it was clear he was fighting off nausea.
The cart plunged through a particularly tight bend, throwing Hagrid against the side. He groaned loudly, clutching his stomach.
By the time they reached their destination, Hagrid was pale and looking worse for wear. He stumbled out of the cart, his feet unsteady, and gave the goblin driver a pointed glare. "That's enough of that," he said gruffly, brushing himself off.
"Your vault, sir," the goblin said, unfazed, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. He stood aside to allow them access.
Hagrid handed Harry the key, and Harry stepped forward, the large iron door to the vault creaking open. The sight inside was breathtaking: piles of glittering gold, silver, and bronze coins stacked high. But Harry barely took notice of the wealth—his mind was still buzzing from the dizzying ride and Hagrid's sickly condition.
As Harry stepped inside, the goblin overseeing the vault approached, his sharp eyes narrowing as he observed Harry.
"Is this the vault of Mr. Harry Potter?" the goblin asked, his voice cold but respectful.
"Yes," Hagrid replied, looking a little flustered, but recovering his composure. "I'll be taking a little for Harry here."
The goblin gave a small nod, stepping aside to allow Hagrid and Harry to take what they needed. But Harry's attention was more focused on the sheer scale of it all. He had never imagined anything like it.
"Take whatever you need for school," Hagrid said, his voice still a little strained as he stood nearby. "Don't worry, there's plenty."
Harry hesitated, looking at the piles of gold coins. He was suddenly aware of just how much he had never thought about money. He had never had anything of his own—everything had been handed to him by the Dursleys, and now here he was, staring at a fortune that belonged to him by right. His fingers hovered over the gold, but he wasn't sure how much to take.
"How much should I…?" Harry started, his voice quiet with uncertainty.
"Just take enough to last you through the school year," Hagrid said, smiling again, though it was clear he was still feeling a little queasy. "Don't be shy now. You've got a lot more where that came from."
With the vault's contents glittering in front of him, Harry finally filled a small bag with gold coins, feeling more than a little awkward as he did. He handed the bag to Hagrid, who took it with a nod.
The goblin at the vault's entrance watched them carefully, and as Hagrid handed over the key to close the vault, he gave Harry one last glance. "If there is any trouble, young Mr. Potter, feel free to return. We are always here for our clients."
Harry gave a quick nod, still processing the surreal nature of it all. He had never imagined a life like this—the idea of wealth, of real wealth, was a strange thing to him, almost foreign.
With the vault sealed, Harry and Hagrid made their way back to the cart. The goblin driver barely acknowledged them as they climbed back in, and the ride up seemed much slower than the descent. Hagrid still looked pale and uncomfortable, but the wind blowing through the open tunnel seemed to be helping.
Once they reached the surface, Hagrid let out a long sigh of relief, wiping his brow. "Blimey, I'm too old for that," he muttered, still holding his stomach. "But at least you've got what you need, eh?"
Harry nodded, feeling a strange sense of responsibility as he clutched the bag of gold. "Thanks," he said quietly, still unsure of how to feel about everything.
"You've got plenty," Hagrid grinned, "and don't worry about it. You're going to need it for Hogwarts. A lot of things are expensive there, but you'll be fine. Just make sure to keep track of your money."
Harry's mind was still buzzing. Everything had changed so quickly—his life at Privet Drive, the Dursleys, his entire understanding of who he was. He glanced at the bag of coins again. Maybe this was what it felt like to belong somewhere. To have something that was his. And maybe—just maybe—he was beginning to understand what the rest of his life might look like.
As Hagrid led him back into Diagon Alley, Harry felt a new kind of excitement building in his chest. He had a long way to go before he fully understood the world he was stepping into, but for the first time, it didn't seem so overwhelming. With Hagrid by his side, maybe he could manage it.