In a narrow stone corridor deep beneath the bustling city, a metal cart sped along a small railway, the creak of its wheels echoing off the cold walls. Torchlight flickered, illuminating the faces of Larry Potter and Hermione, both gripping the cart's sides with trembling hands. Ahead of them, a small creature with pointed ears guided the journey, its bright green eyes focused on the labyrinth of branching tunnels.
"This place… it's like a giant ant nest," muttered Larry, his bright green eyes, like spring leaves, tracing the hundreds of tightly sealed iron doors lining the corridor. "Get lost here, and it might take a century to get out."
The creature, without turning, responded in a raspy yet confident voice. "That's the point. These vaults are designed to protect clients' treasures. Only we know the way."
Hermione glanced at Larry, her eyebrow raised. "Larry, don't tell me you're already plotting to run off with some gold coins," she said, her tone half-joking, half-warning.
"What? Me? Never," replied Larry, with a crooked smile that made Hermione shake her head while hiding a small laugh. She knew all too well Larry's knack for mischievous ideas, but something about his smile always made her forgive him.
The cart jolted to a stop, nearly throwing them forward. The creature hopped down, approaching a plain iron door almost invisible against the stone wall.
"Here it is," it said, its voice flat. "The Potter family vault."
It inserted a small golden key into the lock, turning it slowly. With a soft "click," the door swung open, revealing a sight that took their breath away.
Inside, a vast room sparkled like a sea of gold. Piles of gold coins, Galleons, were stacked high, reaching the vaulted ceiling. Colorful gems—emeralds, sapphires, rubies—glimmered in the corners, mingled with strange objects: a silver mirror reflecting blurry shadows, a wooden box carved with runes, and an old cloak that seemed to move on its own. The light from the treasures was dazzling, casting their shadows dancing on the walls.
"Good heavens…" Hermione covered her mouth, her eyes wide. "This… it's so much!"
The creature, Griphook, nodded without expression. "This is only part of the Potter family's wealth. They're among our biggest clients. This fortune could rival a small nation's treasury."
Larry stared at the piles of gold, his heart racing, though he'd suspected something grand. 'James and Lily left this for Harry… and me,' he thought, feeling a warm spark in his chest—perhaps points from his strange system, maybe triggered by Hermione's awe or Griphook's respectful gaze. 'My life just got officially more interesting.'
Dumbledore, standing behind them, gently patted Larry's shoulder.
"This is your parents' legacy, Larry," he said, his voice warm. "For you and your brother."
Larry turned, his eyes meeting Dumbledore's blue ones, which twinkled through half-moon spectacles.
"Professor Dumbledore, will my brother come here too? He has a key, right? If not, can I take more now and share later?" Larry asked, his words tumbling out like an excited child's.
Dumbledore's smile widened, a glint of admiration in his eyes. "Your brother will have his key when the time comes. And as for sharing… I think he'll appreciate your thoughtfulness, Larry."
"So… how much can I take?" Larry asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution, as if wary of sounding greedy.
"That's up to you," Dumbledore replied, smiling. "But at Hogwarts, you won't need much. Food, shelter—everything's provided. Perhaps enough for books, sweets, and a bit of fun."
Larry nodded, turning to the creature.
"Mr. Griphook, I'd like to take 500 Galleons."
Griphook nodded, extending a hand. With a quick wave, 500 gold coins floated from the pile, landing neatly in a small leather pouch.
"Here you are, Mr. Potter," he said, handing over the pouch.
Larry took it, feeling its pleasing weight.
"Thank you," he said, a bright smile spreading across his face, charming enough to make Hermione linger on him for a second longer.
Hermione looked at the pouch in his hand, then at her own, her eyes sparkling.
"This pouch… it can hold so much? It's magic, isn't it?"
McGonagall, who had been silent until now, nodded. "Correct, Miss Granger. An Undetectable Extension Charm. It can hold more than you'd imagine."
"That's incredible," Hermione murmured, her fingers tracing the leather pouch with awe. Then she turned to Larry, her eyes shining. "Let's go buy books now! I want to see all those textbooks!"
Larry chuckled, watching Hermione's childlike enthusiasm, like a kid in a candy store.
"Easy, Hermione. Bookshop first, alright?" He glanced at Dumbledore. "Professor?"
"I have some matters to attend to," Dumbledore said, winking. "Professor McGonagall will escort you. See you at Hogwarts, children."
"Goodbye, Professor Dumbledore," Larry said, his smile innocent but his mind racing. 'Matters to attend to? The Philosopher's Stone, maybe? The plot's starting to unfold…'
"Larry, Hermione, let's go," said McGonagall, her voice firm but not cold. She led them out of the vault, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Granger, brimming with excitement.
Outside, sunlight slipped through the clouds, bathing the cobblestone street in a golden glow. Larry took a deep breath, the air thick with the scent of toasted bread and faint magic. 'This world is mine now,' he thought, a small smile tugging at his lips. 'And I'll play it my way.'
"Larry, daydreaming again?" Hermione nudged his arm, her eyebrow raised but her eyes full of laughter.
"Just thinking… which book's gonna make you nag the longest," Larry teased, making Hermione swat his arm lightly.
"You're impossible! Come on, to the bookshop!" she said, grabbing his hand with enthusiasm.
They arrived at a bustling bookshop with a wooden sign reading Flourish and Blotts. Inside, tall shelves were crammed with creaking books, some moving on their own, others emitting thin wisps of smoke. Young witches and wizards and their parents crowded the aisles, hunting for textbooks or the latest magical novels.
"So crowded," Hermione muttered, instinctively stepping closer to Larry, her hand brushing his sleeve.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger behind them exchanged a glance, then, in a practiced motion, held out their hands.
"Hand over your pouches," Mrs. Granger said, smiling.
Larry and Hermione passed their leather pouches without protest.
"We'll wait here, Mum, Dad," Larry said, his voice full of understanding.
McGonagall looked at them, puzzled. "You do this often?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," Larry, Hermione, Mr. Granger, and Mrs. Granger replied in unison, nearly making her smile.
"The non-magical world gets crazier at the start of the school year," Larry explained, his hand unconsciously finding Hermione's, his fingers playing with hers gently. "So we split tasks. We hold the spot, they grab the books."
Hermione nodded, looking at McGonagall. "Professor McGonagall, what if we go to the wand shop now? Let Mum and Dad finish here."
"Good idea, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, nodding. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Granger. "We'll meet at the shop's entrance later, agreed?"
"Of course, Professor," Mr. Granger replied, already holding a list of textbooks.
Mrs. Granger pulled out a few gold coins.
"How much are wands, Professor?"
"A dozen Galleons per wand," McGonagall answered, smiling. "Quite reasonable for something you'll use for years."
Mrs. Granger counted out thirty gold coins and handed them to Larry.
"Take this for you and Hermione."
"Thanks, Aunt Granger," Larry said, pocketing the coins with a smile that made Hermione glance at him briefly.
They followed McGonagall out of the bookshop, back onto the bustling cobblestone street. The air was filled with the scent of caramel sweets and fresh ink, mingled with the hoots of owls from a nearby pet shop. They passed stores with windows full of shimmering robes and spinning cauldrons, until they reached a small shop with a simple sign:
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC.