Chapter 37: Advertising

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"Pay attention, Mr. Potter, You'll need to remember this. Three up, two across…" she muttered as she tapped her wand on the wall.

Just as Harry was about to ask what she was doing, the wall hollowed into a hole which shivered and expanded into a huge archway, revealing a long row of shops with signs advertising cauldrons and dragon livers and dozens upon dozens of wizards bustling around, getting their shopping done.

His mind worked overtime trying to process all the colors, sounds and smells that assaulted his senses, and somewhere in there, Harry didn't realize that his mouth had fallen open.

'If anything is magic, this place is,' he thought as the immense amount of mana that saturated the air hit him and left him speechless.

"After you Mr. Potter."

And thus they walked forwards, together, into the wizarding world.

There were merchants hawking Hermes Bags- "Made with real Flubberworm hide! 10 sickles each!" and "Self Serving Knives! Forks! Spoons!" There were pants that turned you green and candy that made your ears smoke.

The buildings looked like a child had glued them together for a crafts project. None of it was practical. None of it was cohesive. None of it made sense.

It was the best thing Harry had ever seen.

His head whipped around like a swivel, taking in every single thing that was in there. He would've used Gamer's Mind, but a part of him just wanted to feel the pure unadulterated wonder of walking through the world of magic for the first time. The people… the sounds… the wares… suddenly, he realized something.

"Professor. How am I going to pay for all this?" he asked, waving his hand at the list he held, "I'm pretty sure Uncle Vernon would have an aneurysm and die if he was asked to pay for my education," he paused, "On second thought, I think we should tell him to pay for it."

"Enough of your cheek Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, although there was a small smirk on her face. Her meeting with Vernon hadn't exactly left the best of impressions on her.

Answering his question, she said, "And that won't be necessary. Your parents have left you with a substantial inheritance.

While their assets had been depleted by quite a bit during the war, you should have enough to comfortably get through your Hogwarts years, especially since your tuition is already paid in full due to donations by several well-wishers of yours. Not to mention that you've received several monetary gifts from many people."

Harry frowned as they passed Slug's & Jigger's apothecary, "Could you please pass their names along to me? I'd really like to thank them. They must think I'm a horrible person for not replying to anyone."

Ping!

Quest Alert!

Say thank you to your benefactors you ungrateful mongrel!

Reward,

5,000 Exp

Better relations with the magical world

Failure,

Everyone hates you!

YES/NO?

Harry quickly pressed yes and refocused on what McGonagall was saying.

"Its common knowledge that you have been out of contact with wizarding world since that fateful day Mr. Potter. I doubt any of them expected a reply. Although… a letter from you would certainly make their days. Very well then. I shall arrange to have the names owled to you Mr. Potter," she said as they made their way towards the giant gilded doors of Gringotts.

After a clipped conversation with the goblin teller; who Harry realized with some embarrassment was taller than him; and a heart-stopping roller coaster ride deep into the cavernous caves below the huge bank, they finally reached his vault.

"You get paid to do this?!" Harry exclaimed breathlessly at the goblin that was operating the cart. It grinned with all its teeth and picked up the lantern to get out of the cart.

Professor McGonagall followed after them and handed the key to his vault to the goblin, who then put it in the keyhole while Harry restlessly tried to fix his hair, which had come to resemble a cuckoo's nest after two horses and a sheep had defiled it.

The moment the doors opened, however, his hands dropped to his sides and his mouth hung open.

Heaps upon heaps of golden Galleons. Stacks of silver Sickles. Piles of bronze Knuts. Harry could only just stand there, and stare with his mouth open at the family vault.

From just outside the door of the vault, Professor McGonagall watched him, leaning casually against the wall. But her eyes were intent, and even without Gamer's Mind, it was fairly obvious why to Harry once he picked his jaw off the floor.

Being dropped in front of a pile of gold was a test of character so ancient it'd have fit well in one of Ms. Roemmele's fairy tales.

McGonagall would expect him to jump with greed at the gold and judge him bad, or ask her about how much money he should take and judge him good. Harry smirked.

'Well. That's just a setup asking to be screwed with,' he thought with a smirk, before he turned back towards the goblin that stood near the door and started asking questions.

Twenty minutes later, ignoring the questioning looks from a very confused McGonagall, a tired Griphook the goblin answered Harry's final question "A taxation fee of one twenty-fifth part would suffice for the smelting of the coins," he said warily.

Harry had just made him explain every facet of the wizarding economy in detail. Gold to silver conversion rates, which seemed to be lower than the muggle ones he'd read on last Sunday's newspaper, how the financial system worked, and whether they had a stock market system, which they did.

Harry nodded. "Thank you very much, Mr. Griphook," he said and went into his vault contemplating his new plan.

Without the extra load of shielding his mind from emotions, Gamer's mind worked as it should, making logical connections and supplying information to Harry whenever he needed it.

The wizarding economy was almost completely isolated from the Muggle economy except for the regular influx of muggleborn bringing more money into the wizarding economy.

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