For Harry, if crossing from modern times to mediaeval, he might try the legitimate route. In the A Song of Ice and Fire world, he had tried hard to recall various elementary school knowledge, but limited by his intelligence, he'd had few options.
Now crossing from mediaeval to modern, he gave up. What he most wanted was to rob a sum for primitive accumulation, then snowball from there.
Some Gringotts vaults belonged to long-dead owners with no heirs, or to Death Eaters—robbing them wouldn't feel like wrongdoing to Harry.
"Found it," Hagrid finally said, holding up a small golden key.
The goblin examined it carefully.
"That seems to be in order."
"I also have a letter from Professor Dumbledore," he said solemnly, puffing out his chest, "about 'You-Know-What' in vault 713."
The goblin read the letter carefully.
"Very well," he said, returning the letter to Hagrid. "I'll have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"
"What's 'You-Know-What' in vault 713?" Harry asked.
"Can't tell you that," Hagrid said mysteriously. "Top secret. Hogwarts business... Can't tell yeh that, Harry."
Harry wanted to complain—if it was truly secret, you shouldn't mention it in front of me.
Probably wasn't very important anyway.
At least if Harry had something secret and important, he wouldn't want Hagrid retrieving it.
Not doubting Hagrid's loyalty, just his ability to keep secrets—too careless.
It felt like Dumbledore had few available people, or wizards' average intelligence was worrying—most having intelligence like this.
Either having wisdom in some areas or being completely foolish overall, with more foolish ones.
At the pub he'd noticed, including that Voldemort subordinate, many wizards were too naive.
Griphook opened the door for them.
Before them stretched a narrow stone passageway lit by flaming torches. The passage sloped steeply downward with small railway tracks below.
Griphook whistled, and a small cart came hurtling toward them along the tracks. They climbed aboard and set off.
Initially they raced through maze-like winding passages. Harry roughly memorised the route—left turn, right turn, right turn, left turn, middle fork, then right turn, left turn...
When the cart finally stopped before a small door in the passage, Hagrid looked pale.
"Carsick?" Harry found the journey rather enjoyable.
He'd also noticed there were indeed dragons here—he could sense that physical strength and magical power... though compared to A Song of Ice and Fire dragons, their presence was much weaker.
He was also certain that if it were him, escaping this maze wouldn't be difficult. Even if some turns were remembered wrong, violently breaking through walls was feasible.
Robbing the bank seemed less difficult than Hagrid claimed.
The only concern was the so-called goblin magic—he didn't know the details, whether it was as powerful as Hagrid said, whether it had marking and cursing functions, or whether Divine Power could provide direct immunity.
R'hllor's single point of Divine Power had been very effective before; now he had three points.
Griphook unlocked the door.
Thick green smoke billowed out. When it cleared, inside were heaps of gold coins, silver bars, and mountains of bronze pieces.
Though it looked like a lot, most were Knuts.
"All yours," Hagrid grinned.
Harry thought of the Dursleys, who often complained about the expense of raising him. One thing at a time—Harry intended to repay this childcare cost... though what was the exchange rate between wizard money and Muggle money?
How many London gangs were there? Better just rob them directly.
Hagrid helped Harry bag the money, filling one sack with gold Galleons, saying this would last a year.
Then, turning to Griphook: "Now take us to vault 713, but could you please drive slower?"
'Seven hells, can I go too?'
Harry mentally complained. Hagrid really was careless—couldn't he wait until tomorrow or come alone tonight?
But Harry wanted to see Dumbledore's presumably higher-security vault, so he stayed silent.
"One speed only," Griphook said.
They descended deeper, picking up speed.
Vault 713 had no keyhole.
"Stand back," Griphook said solemnly. He stretched out one long finger and tapped the door, which simply melted away.
"Anyone but Gringotts goblins who tries that gets sucked through the door and trapped inside," Griphook said.
I see—ordinary wizard family vaults use keys, while important figures' and nobles' vaults use goblin magic...
Didn't seem very impressive. Rob the upper ones first.
Harry asked: "How often do you check to see if anyone's trapped inside?"
"About once every ten years," Griphook said with a malicious grin.
These cunning evil goblins...
There was a grubby little package wrapped in brown paper. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat pocket.
Harry was curious about its contents but didn't ask further.
After another wild cart ride, they finally stood on the bright sunny street outside Gringotts.
Harry carried a full bag of money—couldn't really judge the purchasing power... should be quite strong.
He didn't need to calculate how many pounds equalled how many Galleons, equivalent to how many gold dragons—shopping later would give him a sense.
Actually, only Hogwarts Muggle-born students had pound-to-Galleon exchange quotas—they weren't freely exchangeable normal currencies.
Obviously, if Galleons were valued as gold, ordinary Muggle families exchanging gold coins for books might not afford school.
A welfare benefit—to increase wizard numbers and reduce risks from uncontrolled magic, Hogwarts would drag all talented young wizards to school even by force, naturally not creating financial barriers.
This small wizarding society didn't need to worry much about financial issues—most ordinary wizards thought having enough money was sufficient.
So they didn't mind the bank being controlled by another species, something Harry found highly improper.
This was disgraceful to national sovereignty. Hagrid even said goblins and wizards had fought a war that wizards won... whoever signed that treaty brought shame to Britain.
"Let's get your robes," Hagrid nodded toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Harry, I fancy a pick-me-up at the Leaky Cauldron. You don't mind, do you? That Gringotts cart was dreadful."
"Fine."
Harry also wanted a drink, but his current small body made it seem inappropriate.