"…and finally fell to your iron fist."
No, Harry thought. That's not how it should've happened.
"He probably wasn't defeated by my fists. It must've been something else," he murmured to himself.
Harry remembered very clearly that when he had first transmigrated into this world, his Strength stat was zero. He couldn't even land a lethal blow with his bare hands at the time. It made no sense. If anything, it would be more believable that his Charisma, Intelligence, or even Magic—which started with at least one or two points—were the true reason behind Voldemort's defeat.
Those silver and gold attributes were rare and powerful. Something didn't add up.
Still, he had learned most of what he needed from Hagrid. Compared to Aunt Petunia, the half-giant was a far more reliable source of information. But Harry could tell Hagrid didn't know everything either.
"Are we going to Hogwarts now?" Harry asked.
Hagrid brightened. "Oh, Harry, you've agreed to go to school? Wonderful! Of course, we'll go to Hogwarts—but not just yet. There's still a bit of time before the term begins. First, we need to get your books and supplies."
Harry nodded. "Alright then. Can we take your flying motorbike?"
He was clearly intrigued. That motorbike seemed a lot more exciting than a horse. Though it wouldn't match the thrill of flying on a dragon, it might come close.
He'd ridden dragons before—even without so-called "true dragon blood." With his strength, even dragons bowed to him.
Hagrid scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Ah, no—not quite. Technically, I'm not supposed to use magic. I'm only allowed a little bit when it's related to your safety or when I'm delivering letters—that's actually part of the reason I was allowed to take this job."
"Why aren't you allowed to use magic?" Harry asked, eyeing him curiously.
Hagrid sighed. "Well... I went to Hogwarts meself, but... to be honest, I was expelled. It was me third year. They broke my wand and took everything else."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Expelled? That pink umbrella he carried—Harry was beginning to suspect it was more than just an umbrella.
It had to be a wand, somehow repaired or disguised.
He hadn't seen much of magic in action yet, just a bit of brute strength. He was eager to witness real spells.
"But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper," Hagrid added with some pride. "He's a great man, Dumbledore."
Harry didn't press further. The way Hagrid had looked when he admitted being expelled... he'd seen that expression before—in the Night's Watch. People who carried the weight of a serious crime.
Murder, perhaps?
It wasn't likely to be theft—Hagrid didn't seem like a thief. Rape? Unlikely. If it were that, it might've been a false accusation.
But accidental manslaughter? That was plausible.
Harry had too much experience with that kind of power. He remembered when he'd intended to publicly execute Joffrey Baratheon, only for the spoiled prince to die from a single blow. Fragile thing.
But Hagrid? He was only expelled?
Hogwarts… what a treacherous place.
That night, while Hagrid was passed out, Harry had even gone so far as to reset Uncle Vernon's bones. Despite how awful they were, he'd still eaten their food for ten years. He wouldn't kill them.
Harry Potter always paid his debts.
If Dudley were to die someday, he might even spare some coin for the Dursleys in their old age.
After setting Vernon's bones, Harry had used his qi healing technique, and the results were much better than on Hagrid. That confirmed it wasn't a problem with Harry's qi.
It seemed that magic interfered with qi techniques. Hagrid's healing relied more on natural regeneration, making it incompatible. Perhaps magic interfered with both buffs and debuffs.
It made Harry wonder: how effective would his long-range qi suppression technique be here?
Perhaps only magic could truly counter magic.
The next morning, Harry awoke early for his usual exercise. He caught a large fish from the sea and roasted it for breakfast.
For the foreseeable future, he knew his appetite would be enormous. This body was still weak, maybe even malnourished, but his internal qi was intact. He could use it to nurture and restore the body slowly.
There were many uses for qi. Once his Strength stat had previously reached twenty, even intense training became ineffective.
But with enhanced qi and mastery of breathing techniques, he could push his physique beyond its limits.
This wasn't about power gained in a single moment—but long-term discipline.
When Hagrid finally woke up, Harry stopped his training.
An owl flew overhead and dropped a newspaper onto Hagrid's lap. The giant gave it five bronze coins.
Harry noticed immediately—those coins weren't British pounds.
"Is this wizard money?" he asked. "Do wizards use a different currency?"
Hagrid nodded. "Yup, these are Knuts."
"Knuts?"
"Those little copper coins. Then there are silver ones—Sickles—and the gold ones are Galleons. Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. Simple enough, right?"
Harry shook his head, unimpressed. "That's... a very stupid system."
"I don't have any wizard money. How do I buy books? Can I use pounds?"
"If you were a Muggle-born, you'd get a small exchange quota," Hagrid replied. "But you don't need to worry. You think your parents didn't leave you anything?"
"But their house was destroyed..."
"They didn't keep gold in the house, child! First stop—Gringotts, the wizarding bank."
"Wizards have banks?"
"Only one. Run by goblins."
That caught Harry's attention. Goblins?
Why would goblins run the wizard bank? Had the wizards lost a war to them?
But Hagrid didn't sound like goblins were superior. In fact, Voldemort had also persecuted non-humans, including goblins.
So if goblins weren't stronger, why hadn't Dumbledore just taken over the bank?
Maybe no one had thought of it.
Harry smiled to himself. If no one had done it yet, then he could do it. Rob Gringotts, and he'd have endless gold.
"Has anyone tried to rob Gringotts before?"
Hagrid gave him a look. "Everyone who tried failed. You'd have to be mad to even think about it. Goblins don't take kindly to theft."
"If you want a safe place to store something," he added, "besides Hogwarts, Gringotts is the only place."
Harry nodded silently, already making plans.
He just needed to understand Gringotts' true defenses, and the opportunity would present itself.
"Either way, I have to go there," he said aloud. "Dumbledore asked you to run some kind of errand, right?"
Hagrid puffed up proudly. "Yep! He always trusts me with the important stuff—picking you up, running errands at Gringotts. He knows I can be trusted."
"Of course," Harry said smoothly. "You're a wise and trustworthy person."
Hagrid beamed.
They got onto a small boat to return to the mainland.
Hagrid, though technically not allowed to use magic, bent the rules. He tapped the boat twice with his pink umbrella, and it began to glide rapidly toward shore.
"That's definitely a wand," Harry thought.
"Why did you say only a madman would rob Gringotts?" he asked aloud.
Hagrid flipped open the paper. "Because the place is full of curses—and goblin magic."
"They say the highest-security vaults are guarded by dragons. And the whole thing is like a maze. Gringotts stretches hundreds of miles beneath London—deeper than the Underground. Even if you stole something, you'd probably starve to death trying to escape."
Goblins. Dragons. A subterranean maze.
Just those three?
Harry committed it all to memory.
He'd seen worse.