Harry did not sleep much.
The magic that had flared in Hogsmeade still lingered in his bones like distant thunder. He woke before dawn, dressed plainly, no regal Gryffindor robes this time, and made his way to the Headmaster's office.
Dumbledore was already awake.
"Lemon drop?" the Headmaster offered mildly, as though they were not about to confront ancient grudges and goblin politics.
"No, sir," Harry said. "I'd like permission to visit Diagon Alley. Gringotts. Business regarding the shop."
Dumbledore studied him over steepled fingers.
"I suspected as much."
After a moment, he inclined his head. "You may go. In fact… I believe I shall accompany you."
Harry blinked. "You don't have to—"
"Oh, I know," Dumbledore said gently. "But I would like to."
What he did not say, though the thought moved carefully behind his bright eyes, was that Harry James Potter had once fought in the last Goblin Rebellion and personally defeated Ranrok.
And goblins remembered.
As did magic.
Gringotts Wizarding Bank
Gringotts Wizarding Bank stood as it always had: white marble, towering pillars, goblin guards sharp-eyed and sharper-toothed.
But the moment Harry crossed the threshold, the temperature shifted.
He was suppressing it.
He knew he was.
Yet the magic inside him, Narnian sovereignty, ancient British lines, war-forged command, moved like a tide beneath ice.
Every goblin in the lobby stiffened.
Their black eyes snapped toward him in unison.
Recognition passed silently between them.
The one who deleted Ranrok.
Not defeated.
Deleted.
Dumbledore felt it too. The tightening of invisible threads. The wary hostility edged with reluctant respect.
A goblin approached, bowing just a fraction lower than protocol required.
"Headmaster," he said to Dumbledore. Then, after the barest hesitation: "Lord Potter."
The title rippled outward like a struck bell.
"We request an immediate audience with Ragnok," Dumbledore said smoothly.
The goblin did not argue.
He hurried them past the counters and down into the deeper corridors of the bank.
Ragnok
Ragnok stood when they entered.
That alone spoke volumes.
Ragnok was older now, his features lined with the sharp etchings of politics and memory.
He bowed, not deeply, but unmistakably.
"Heir Potter," he said. "Gringotts acknowledges your presence."
Harry inclined his head.
There was no hostility in him.
Only control.
"Ragnok."
The goblin folded his clawed hands on the desk.
"Before business proceeds," Ragnok said carefully, "I must state, on behalf of my ancestors, that their actions during the previous conflict were… misguided."
Dumbledore's eyes flickered.
An apology from goblin leadership was rarer than phoenix tears.
Harry held Ragnok's gaze.
"What's done is done," he said evenly. "We move forward."
Ragnok studied him for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
"Then we begin properly. I recommend a blood inheritance assessment."
Dumbledore raised a brow but said nothing.
Harry extended his hand without hesitation.
A thin blade sliced across his palm. Crimson drops fell into a shallow golden basin etched with runes older than Hogwarts.
The basin flared.
Gold. Red. Silver.
Names rose in light.
Potter.
Gryffindor.
Black.
Even Dumbledore inhaled softly.
Ragnok's eyes gleamed.
"Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Heir to the House of Potter. Magical confirmation of direct descent from Godric Gryffindor."
The room hummed.
Harry felt it settle, like armor clicking into place.
"I claim my lordships," he said quietly.
The words were not shouted.
They did not need to be.
Magic accepted.
Ragnok bowed deeper this time.
"It shall be recorded."
Dumbledore looked at Harry, not surprised, but impressed.
You did not let that change you, his gaze said.
Harry met it calmly.
"Now," Harry continued, voice steady, "business."
He explained about Vesters & Venom. The interference. The legal maneuvers.
When he finished, Ragnok's expression had hardened.
"Lucius Malfoy," he said flatly.
Ragnok tapped a claw against the desk.
"Ownership is clearly registered to House Potter. Attempts to undermine it constitute financial aggression."
Harry's eyes cooled.
"What can be done?"
"We will forward formal notice," Ragnok said. "Documentation proving your sole ownership. Should he persist, he will be summoned before the Wizengamot for unlawful interference and attempted seizure of noble assets."
Dumbledore's beard twitched slightly.
Efficient. Direct. Goblin.
"With your permission, Lord Potter?"
Harry held the goblin's gaze for a long, measured second.
"Send it."
Ragnok inclined his head. "It will be done."
Departure
The tension in the marble halls eased as they exited.
Goblins still watched him, but now the wariness carried a different note.
Recognition.
Legitimacy.
Dumbledore waited until they were halfway back toward Hogwarts before speaking.
"You conducted yourself admirably," he said lightly.
Harry glanced at him. "You were worried I'd explode."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"I was prepared for the possibility."
Harry huffed a quiet laugh.
"I've fought wars," he said. "I don't need to start one in a bank lobby."
Dumbledore's smile softened.
"No," he agreed. "You do not."
They walked the remaining distance in companionable silence.
Behind them, notices were being drafted.
In Malfoy Manor, consequences were already on their way.
And for the first time since Hogsmeade, the storm inside Harry felt… contained.