Harry thought for a moment and decided to put the wand away. After all, he still needed the goblins to take him down to the vault to retrieve the items.
He truly hadn't expected that after such a long time apart, his old companion seemed to have gained some new abilities. Perhaps it was due to having absorbed Rancorn's power?
That said, the number of goblins who had died at the end of this wand was indeed beyond counting.
Although Harry had once been so kind-hearted that he was afraid of hurting ants while sweeping the floor, witnessing the goblins massacre an entire village had cured him of that misplaced mercy.
Despite Gringotts' repeated claims that Rancorn's actions had nothing to do with the bank's goblins, Harry still believed the goblins of Gringotts were far from innocent.
When Harry finally tucked the wand back into his robes, the goblins slowly emerged from their terror.
"Merlin's beard, what on earth was—" Griphook swallowed hard.
"Don't ask questions you shouldn't," Harry said in a low, steady voice. "I have now presented the token. You will take me to the vault, yes?"
"Yes, Mr. Potter. This way, please," Griphook replied with great respect.
As he led Harry through the bank, Griphook kept one hand behind his back, making subtle gestures to other goblins.
Harry noticed the little signals but paid them no mind.
Before arriving at Gringotts, he had prepared a Portkey in his bag—one that could quickly whisk him back to the outside of the Leaky Cauldron if needed.
Harry followed Griphook into a narrow stone corridor lit brightly by burning torches.
The corridor sloped steeply downward, with a winding miniature railway track running along the floor.
Griphook gave a sharp whistle. Moments later, a small cart came racing toward them along the rails.
"Get in, Mr. Potter," Griphook said, climbing in first.
Harry sat down behind him and casually cast a small Shield Charm in front of himself—just enough to block the wind from his face while conveniently leaving Griphook unprotected.
Along the way, they passed an underground lake filled with enormous stalactites and stalagmites, some of which reached all the way to the ground.
Finally, the cart came to a smooth stop in front of a small door. The carts were clearly enchanted to always halt precisely at the correct vault.
"We have arrived, Mr. Potter," Griphook said, jumping out respectfully.
Harry stepped down and looked up at Vault 313.
He had to admit that, judging by the door alone, this vault looked far more imposing than the Potter family vault.
"Two million, seven hundred and sixty-three thousand, two hundred and fifteen Galleons," Griphook read from a sheet of parchment, his expression calm. "There are also various antiques and treasures from the Austro-Hungarian imperial collection a century ago. Let me see… there are also rare alchemical materials, and even something as precious as an Angel's Feather. I wonder what sort of person the vault's owner was."
*What sort of person?*
Harry thought back. Vivi had mentioned an aunt nicknamed "Sissi" who had married someone named Joseph and apparently held considerable power in the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
But… two million Galleons?!
Was this what Vivi had called "a bit of pocket money"?
Though he was inwardly astonished, Harry kept his face neutral. "Open the door."
Griphook nodded, stepped forward, and manipulated something on the door. The lock clicked open, and a thick cloud of green smoke billowed out.
Once the smoke cleared, Harry looked inside…
After a long moment, he slowly withdrew his gaze from the completely empty vault.
This… this can't be right.
Where is all the money you mentioned?
He searched carefully and finally spotted a single pathetic bronze Knut lying in a corner, along with a silver-white princess tiara hanging at the very back of the vault.
"This is what you call more than two million Galleons?!" Harry demanded, pointing at the empty chamber, his blood pressure rising.
Are you bloody kidding me?
The Galleons themselves didn't matter much—if they were gone, they were gone.
The antiques were of little concern to him either.
But his Angel's Feather?!
Where was the huge pile of Angel's Feathers Vivi had stored here?
Harry refused to believe Vivi would deceive him, especially since the detailed inventory clearly listed everything that should have been inside.
Only then did Griphook turn around. He drew in a sharp breath, his face filled with horror.
"M-Mr. Potter, this is a serious incident. I must… I must notify the senior management of Gringotts…"
Harry said nothing. He simply stared at the goblin coldly and took a sip of Ageing Potion.
"Please come with me for now," Griphook swallowed nervously. "I believe the senior management will certainly provide you with a satisfactory explanation."
"They had better," Harry said curtly, climbing back into the cart.
They returned the same way and soon re-entered the main hall of Gringotts.
The moment Harry stepped inside, two smartly dressed goblins moved to block his path.
"Mr. Potter, the Chairman requests your presence," they said respectfully.
Harry looked down at them and pointed at the floor.
"Let him come to me. Right here."
"This…" The two goblins exchanged glances, both looking troubled.
"My vault has been robbed! All the treasures inside have vanished!" Harry snorted coldly. "I demand an explanation from Gringotts! Was it negligence on the part of your guards, or was it an inside job?!"
The moment Harry's words rang out, the previously quiet hall of Gringotts erupted like a pot of boiling oil.
It was well known that Gringotts had built its reputation on absolute security ever since its founding.
That reputation was the very foundation of their existence in the wizarding world.
Now, someone was publicly declaring in the middle of the main hall that his vault had been emptied.
Even the goblin who had accompanied him to the vault stood with his head lowered, silently confirming the claim.
The impact on both the goblin employees and the witches and wizards present was immense.
Goblins stared at Harry and whispered among themselves.
The wizards who had come to conduct business looked on in shock and suspicion, glancing back and forth between Harry and Griphook.
They were desperate to know what exactly was going on.
The two well-dressed goblins sighed. They turned and left the hall.
"Mr. Griphook, I believe I am owed a proper explanation," Harry said calmly. "Or, if you cannot provide one that satisfies me, I will have to ask some old friends to come and have a little chat with you."
"No, no, no, Mr. Potter," Griphook forced a strained smile. "Please follow me to the VIP lounge. We promise to give you a full and reasonable explanation regarding everything concerning Vault 313!"
"Hmph." Harry snorted and followed Griphook to the VIP room.
Before long, two goblin waiters entered, trembling as they carried red tea and pastries.
They served Harry with great attentiveness, but their faces were deathly serious—and if one looked closely, tinged with unmistakable fear.
"What are those expressions for?" Harry glanced at the two goblins. "I thought the standard in the service industry was to smile. Why aren't you smiling? Do you not like to smile?"
The two goblin waiters thought to themselves that Gringotts had no such rule…
But facing the wizard who carried a wand stained with the blood of countless goblins, they quickly chose survival over pride and forced out awkward, reluctant smiles.
Soon afterward, there was a knock at the door. Upon Harry's permission, the two previously well-dressed goblins entered, followed by a cross-eyed goblin.
"Mr. Potter," the cross-eyed goblin said, bowing. "We finally meet."
Harry gave him a polite nod. "Do we know each other?"
"I apologize, Mr. Potter. We have never met, but I grew up hearing your name."
Bodrig shuddered as he spoke.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am 'Cross-Eye' Bodrig, current Chairman of the Goblin Brotherhood."
"You are not from Gringotts?" Harry asked, visibly displeased.
He had assumed the visitor was a Gringotts representative and had therefore agreed to see him. But now that he was in the middle of a dispute with the bank, why was this outsider butting in?
Noticing Harry's displeasure, Bodrig's heart tightened.
He quickly smiled apologetically. "Forgive me, Mr. Potter. I know you have urgent matters, but I only wish to take a moment of your time…"
After all, one does not strike a smiling face. If Bodrig had come in arrogant and demanding, Harry would have drawn his wand immediately. But Harry had always responded better to softness than hardness. Seeing Bodrig's humble attitude, he refrained from using any petty curse.
"My time is limited. Say what you need to say quickly," Harry said, tapping his fingers on the table.
"It is like this, Mr. Potter," Bodrig chose his words carefully. "We… well, we have all heard of your great renown in years past. Now that you have returned to the magical world that is loyal to you, we goblins would like… to clear up any misunderstandings."
"Misunderstandings do need to be cleared up," Harry said, idly polishing his nails. "There were some minor unpleasantries between us and your kind in the past, during which we exchanged opinions quite fully and frankly. That was not entirely by my choice. However, if any more goblins emerge who covet ancient magic and slaughter the innocent…"
He gave Bodrig a meaningful look. "I will be watching."
Bodrig's heart let out a sharp internal scream.
Minor unpleasantries?!
Fully and frankly exchanged opinions?!
You call that minor?!
Merlin's sake! Thousands of goblins who had followed Rancorn had been wiped out in one sweep!
Bodrig still remembered how the elders had described it: students flinging green curses on sight, and a pair of extraordinarily gifted young witches and wizards who knew ancient magic…
The number of goblins who had died at the tip of that very wand was already uncountable. Otherwise, why would the wand emit such terrifying pressure toward goblins?!
Still…
Bodrig was quite satisfied with Harry's answer.
As long as he did not intend to expand the conflict to all goblins, that was enough…
"Thank you for your magnanimity, Mr. Potter," Bodrig said, placing a hand over his chest. "Your tolerance shines brightly over the entire magical world."
"Let's set that aside for now. I have more important matters to discuss with you goblins."
Harry spoke softly, but his words weighed like mountains in the goblins' ears.
More important matters?!
If suppressing a goblin rebellion counted as a "minor unpleasantness," Bodrig did not dare imagine how severe "more important matters" could be.
"Please speak freely, Mr. Potter," Bodrig said respectfully. "The Goblin Brotherhood still carries some weight at Gringotts. We will ensure you receive a satisfactory resolution."
Harry nodded and beckoned Griphook closer.
"A hundred years ago, my friend deposited a fortune at Gringotts. When I went to retrieve it today, the entire fortune had vanished."
Harry gave Griphook a look. The goblin stepped forward and handed the inventory list to Bodrig.
"I require an explanation. Where exactly has my treasure gone?"
Bodrig took the list. His face immediately contorted into a mask of pain.
This… this is what you call a fortune?!
Even for Gringotts, more than two million Galleons was an astronomical sum—especially when combined with the rare alchemical materials and antique treasures listed.
He didn't even want to think about what would happen if Gringotts failed to provide a proper answer.
"Rest assured, Mr. Potter!" Bodrig declared immediately. "I will personally urge Gringotts to give you a satisfactory reply!"
Harry nodded, pleased with Bodrig's attitude.
At that moment, a Gringotts manager came rushing into the room, skidding to a halt in front of Harry.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Bodrig," the manager said, blinking rapidly. "I have already been briefed on your situation, Mr. Potter. I am now ordering the clerks to investigate this matter thoroughly. You will receive a satisfactory answer!"
"I'll wait," Harry said reasonably, nodding.
Seeing that Harry was not causing a full scene in Gringotts, the manager breathed a sigh of relief.
Harry had no idea what the goblins were thinking; otherwise, he would have scoffed. After living under Headmaster Black's influence for more than five years, even a stone would have absorbed some refinement.
This was, after all, a society governed by law. No matter what, Harry would try to maintain decorum.
Soon, a stream of Gringotts clerks filed in, each carrying thick stacks of documents. They sat down a short distance from Harry and began carefully reviewing the records.
Harry did not rush them. He simply sipped his red tea calmly, waiting for the final result.
Sure enough, he did not have to wait long.
After about half an hour, one goblin suddenly stood up, waving a sheaf of papers.
"Here! I've found it!"
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