Upon arriving at Gringotts, Harry and Hagrid separated into two queues because Hagrid needed to take Harry to the vault.
Approaching one counter, Hagrid, unfazed by the Goblins' usual grim expressions, greeted them warmly, "Morning! We're here to withdraw some money from Mr. Harry Potter's vault."
Hearing Harry Potter's name, the Goblin leaned up from the counter in surprise and looked down at Harry.
It seemed these Goblins, due to their short stature, intentionally set their counters very high, even taller than a normal adult.
Harry lifted his hat, revealing the lightning scar.
"It truly is Potter..." he muttered, sitting back down at his workstation, then said, "Do you have his key, sir?"
"I brought it," Hagrid said, emptying everything from his pockets onto the counter. The Goblin frowned, finally waiting for Hagrid to pull out a shiny golden key from a pile of miscellaneous items.
"There should be no problem," the Goblin said after inspecting the key.
Hagrid suddenly added, "I also have a letter from Professor Dumbledore here. It's about 'that thing' in vault 713."
After carefully examining the letter, the Goblin nodded and called out, "Griphook! Take them to the underground vaults."
Then, Harry finally saw for the first time what gave the world's safest vault its confidence to make such a claim.
The maze-like, winding underground passages seemed endless, and the high-speed cart made him recall the first time he was carried away by a dragon.
Wait?! Was there really a dragon there?!
Harry caught a glimpse of a dragon-shaped shadow with a fiery glow, but before he could react, the cart sped past that section.
Before long, they stopped beside vault 687. After opening the door, Harry saw piles of gold coins.
Hagrid led Harry inside, then took out a bag and directly stuffed a large handful in. "Alright, that's enough for two terms. I'll keep the rest for you."
"Wait!" Harry suddenly said, "Hagrid, can I have the vault key?"
"Ah... this. Harry, you don't understand, money is too much of a temptation for you right now..."
"I can give it to Howl," Harry said. "No matter what, magic is always very expensive, isn't it? I can't always be short on money and have to trouble Dumbledore or you."
"Of course you can, you can always trouble me!" Hagrid said very seriously.
Harry's eyes widened, staring intently at Hagrid.
"Oh, alright! Stop staring at me like that, I'll give the key to Jones, okay?" Hagrid had no choice but to relent.
With that, Hagrid gave the bag of Galleons to Harry and the vault key to Howl.
Then, they arrived again at vault 713, which Hagrid had mentioned. Looking at this vault, which had no key and required a special magic spell to open, Harry couldn't help but be curious about what was inside.
But unfortunately, he only saw a small cloth package.
Then he noticed Howl's half-smile.
"Howl, did you find anything?" Harry asked curiously.
"Nothing, I just find it a bit amusing. Oh, and here!" Saying that, Howl handed the vault key to Harry.
Harry quickly took it, smiling, "I knew you would do this, Howl."
"It's just money," Howl said indifferently.
Harry thought for a moment, then said, "Still, Howl, you should keep it, okay? To be honest, I'm not sure I can resist such a great temptation.
And I just feel that my own vault key having to be kept by an outsider is really a bit..."
Although I can see that Hagrid genuinely cares for me, it makes me too uncomfortable."
"Whatever you want," Howl said, taking back the key.
At this moment, Hagrid also returned, and the three of them, along with the Goblin, quickly returned to the surface.
At this time, Hermione had also exchanged her Galleons.
Hagrid almost walked out clutching his head; he was clearly disoriented by the cart, reminding Harry of his first time riding the Knight Bus.
"Hmm... let's go, let's buy robes," Hagrid said, and the group grandly walked towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
After sending the two children into the robe shop, Hagrid immediately looked at Howl and Chris, shaking his head, "Want to go for a drink...? To be honest, I'm feeling very sick from the ride right now and desperately need a refreshing drink."
Chris and Howl agreed almost without thinking.
"Honey, we'll be back in a bit," Chris told Hermione, "You and little Potter go in and order your clothes first."
He had already gotten used to Harry's alias, "Potter."
Hermione helplessly watched the three walk away, then walked into the robe shop with Harry.
Madam Malkin was a short, plump Witch with a beaming smile, dressed in purple. "Are you here for Hogwarts school uniforms, dear... Oh, you're Harry, it's an honor to meet you. Are you attending Hogwarts this year?!"
"Yes, Madam," Harry nodded.
Madam Malkin led the two to the back of the shop, where a pale, thin young man was already inside.
Madam Malkin had Harry and Hermione stand on footstools next to the young man. After they took off their outer coats, she put robes on them, then she and another shop assistant began pinning the robes to fit their lengths.
"Hey!" the thin boy suddenly spoke, "Are you two going to Hogwarts too?"
"Yes," Harry nodded.
"My mum and dad are next door buying my books," he spoke slowly, drawing out his words, which was annoying, as if his throat was coated with something.
"Then I'm going to drag them to look at flying brooms. I don't understand why first-years can't have their own flying brooms. If I could, I'd force Dad to buy me one and then find a way to sneak it in."
"Wouldn't that be against the rules?" Hermione said.
"Who cares?" the boy shrugged, looking indifferent. "Do you have your own flying brooms?"
"No..." Harry replied casually. He didn't like the way this person spoke; there was a sense of superiority.
Then the person babbled on for a long time, but neither Harry nor Hermione listened to him.
"Oh, look at that person," the boy suddenly said, pointing towards the large window at the shop entrance.
Harry and Hermione looked over, only to see that Howl and the other two had returned to the doorway. Hagrid, through the window, met Harry and Hermione's gaze and then held up two large ice creams, clearly for them.
"And the person next to him... is that a watch? He's clearly a Muggle-born," the boy continued.
He was referring to Granger.
"I've always believed they shouldn't let their kind into school, don't you agree? I think the school should only admit those from ancient magic families—"
"Are you prejudiced because you're incompetent?" Harry interrupted his incessant chatter directly, retorting.
"What?!" The boy didn't expect the person next to him to suddenly blurt out such a remark.