6

- We'll start by getting wands for the young gentlemen," Lucius Malfoy announced. In the meantime, he studied Harry Potter intently. The boy made a peculiar impression.

His clothes were old, shabby, and off the wrong shoulder. But the green eyes sparked with curiosity, and the face was intelligent and moderately sassy. Not cheeky, not evil, but precisely that, mischievous and clever.

Strange child.

- Mr. Malfoy, are there any bookstores around here?

- There are bookshops, Mr. Potter.

- Harry, sir.

- I can call you Henry, Mr. Potter since you're younger than me. But bear in mind that books are expensive.

Harry sulked. Liz had given him money, but he strongly suspected it wasn't enough for everything. Lucius watched the change of expression on the boy's face and asked softly:

- 'Henry, don't you have a bank account?

- From where?

- From your parents. In our world, a child is entitled to a specific allowance.

- N-no... I don't know...

- We'll go to Gringotts, clarify that, and then go shopping.

Draco studied Harry silently, staying out of the conversation. Let's see what kind of Potter he is. And is he worth being friends with? Though he certainly set the godfather on fire in a dashing way...

- Gringotts?

- Yes. It's a world-famous bank run by goblins.

- Goblins, sir?!

- Yes, Henry. It's one of the nations of our world. You'll see for yourself. There it is - Gringotts.

They stood before a snow-white building, towering above the surrounding shops. Beside its front door, gleaming with burnished copper in a scarlet livery embroidered with gold, stood...

- So that's the goblin," Malfoy confirmed softly as he ascended the white stone steps. The goblin was a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, sly face and pointed goatee; Harry could make out long fingers and feet. As they walked inside, he bowed low. They passed through the first doors and stopped at a second, this time a silver one, above which an inscription was carved:

Come in, stranger, but beware.

Not all that is inside is yours.

If someone else takes it,

There's payback on the way out.

Our cellar is full of treasures,

But don't look for what you didn't put down.

You are cautioned to leave greed at the doorstep.

Leave your greed at the doorstep.

Harry read the poem and shrugged his shoulders. He sure as hell didn't put anything in here.

Two goblins bowed and led them through silver doors, and they found themselves in a marble hall of immense proportions. At least a hundred goblins were seated on high stools behind the counters. They were scratching at something in thick ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, and peering through loupes at precious stones. Countless doors slammed along the hall's walls, letting in and out visitors accompanied by other goblins. Lucius, Draco and Harry made their way to the counter.

- Good morning," Malfoy turned to the unoccupied goblin. - We would like to know about the presence and condition of Henry Potter's safe.

- And who are you, sir?

- My name is Lucius Malfoy, and this is Mr. Potter.

The goblin stared intently at Harry.

- Harry Potter?! The Harry Potter?

- Henry, please show Mr...

- Hookfang, sir...

- Mr. Hookfang his scar.

Harry obediently removed his fringes from his forehead. The scar irritated him, and he had already consulted with Liz about getting it out when he came of age. He had to endure and cover the stupid zigzag with his fringes for now.

The goblin got nervous at the sight of the scar - and, with a bow, pulled out a small saucer from somewhere with a needle sticking out in the centre.

- Mr. Potter, you don't have a key to your safety, do you?

- Do I have a safe?

- Yes, Mr. Potter. But to access it, you'll need to prove you're Henry James Potter.

- A DNA test?

- Excuse me, Mr. Potter?

- How do we confirm? - Harry had already lost all awe of the goblin and was looking not without curiosity.

- Put your finger here. A drop of your blood will suffice.

- I told you, DNA test. Where's the alcohol?

- What?!

- Why do you need alcohol, Mr. Potter?

- For courage? - Draco snidely asked.

Harry rolled his eyes.

- Yes, to disinfect. How do I know who you were poking with your saucer? What if it was someone with HIV? I want to live!

The dumbfounded look from the Malfoys and the goblin were his reward. Harry sighed wistfully and pulled a pack of wet wipes from his pocket. Also a necessity, by the way. There was no telling what might end up on a chemist's hands.

Wiped his finger, wiped the saucer and needle - and put his ring finger to it. A drop of blood slid down the hand. Something resembling a rune alphabet appeared on the saucer, and the goblin gazed into it.

- That's right, Mr. Potter. You really are who you say you are, and have a safe in our bank.

- And the key to the safe?

- I believe Mr. Potter's guardian must have it.

- Dursley?! - horrified Harry.

- Your guardian," the goblin stared similarly at the runes, "is listed as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

Harry slammed his eyes shut but didn't bother yet.

- Can I have a duplicate key?

- We can give you a new key, Mr. Potter. But then your guardian's key would become invalid, and he would be denied access to your vault.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. The problems of Professor Two-Bulldog, unknown to him, were of no concern to him. Don't go poking around in other people's vaults.

- Hand it over.

The goblin bowed and retreated into the room's far corner, only to return five minutes later with a large patterned key.

- Drop a drop of blood on it, sir, please.

Harry sighed.

- How, exactly?

- Aa... I have a needle.

- And again, unsanitized.

The goblin's sad look was his answer.

Then there was the trolley ride to the underground vault. Harry tried to remember the way but quickly lost his way and waved and began to enjoy the fast ride.

The trolley picked out branches by itself - Hookwolf wasn't steering anything.

Harry's eyes were watering from the cold wind, but he tried not to close them. In some side tunnel, he saw a column of flame and wrenched his head back - what if it was a dragon? - But it was too late; the wagon rushed past. They descended deeper and deeper, past an underground lake, between giant stalactites and stalagmites growing out of the floor and ceiling.

The Malfoys refused to go with Harry, claiming that it was his family vault and, therefore, his business.

Then the carriage stopped at a small door in the tunnel wall, and Hookwolf bowed and pointed Harry to the keyhole.

Harry obediently unlocked the door. A cloud of green smoke swirled around them - and the boy immediately recoiled away.

- Not chlorine?

- Chlorine?

- A chemical warfare agent. No?

- Just ordinary magic, sir. And what are these substances?

- Phosgene, mustard gas, sarin, saman...

- These are Muggle inventions?

- And very deadly," confirmed Harry, mesmerized by the vault that had been opened. In the open vault were piles of gold coins. And columns of silver. And heaps of tiny copper knots.

- Are these all mine?

- Yes, sir. The gold coins are called galleons, seventeen silver shekels per galleon, twenty-nine copper units per shekel - do you understand?

- Yes, sir. And what is the purchasing power of one tenant?

- Five kanats would buy a loaf of bread, sir.

Harry roughly estimated how much he needed. He generously poured a couple of handfuls of gold, silver and copper into a pouch Hookfoot kindly gave him.

- May I come again?

- As much as you like, sir.

- Thank you. Can we go back?

- Yes, sir.

And as they were driving back...

- Sir, could you tell us more about these pyrites, lures and saris?

Harry sighed.

- Mustard gas. Sarin. Zaman. Okay, so it's organic chemistry. The formula for mustard gas...

Hookwolf listened quite attentively and even wrote something down in a large notebook with a gold pencil. Then he asked where he could find textbooks on organic chemistry. And left something very satisfying.

Harry suspected the goblin's defence system against thieves would soon be enriched with new traps. But... he wasn't going to steal anything here, was he?

In a pinch, hurrah for gas masks!

***

The Malfoys waited politely for Harry in the standard room. Then they all went off together to get books. They ordered them and arranged for delivery with an owl.

Where to? To the Malfoys' house, to Harry's house as well. Snape's. The boy was genuinely afraid the Dursleys would throw away his books and be determined not to tell on Liz.

From there, they went to get their wands.

- Ollivander's shop," Lucius Malfoy said as he touched the cracked door.

The room, to Harry's eyes, was small and dirty. Liz would have chlorinated the place for sure, much less her aunt.

- Good afternoon," a low voice came from behind them.

Harry turned around.

Yes, and the landlord, too. Into the chlorine. The most decent thing about Ollivander's appearance was the glowing eyes. The rest of the place looked like it hadn't been washed or scrubbed in two or three years.

- Hello," Harry and Draco said at the same time.

- Oh, yes. - The old man nodded his head. - I thought I'd see you, Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes...

Harry didn't like references to his parents, especially from strangers.

- Yes, sir. And my father's ears, sir.

Lucius Malfoy could hardly contain an unaristocratic chuckle. Ollivander clapped his eyes.

- Э... Your father preferred mahogany wands, and your mother liked willow wands...

- I suppose you can offer me red willow," Harry queried.

- Are you joking, sir? - Ollivander asked cautiously. He met Harry's surprised stare.

- How?! Do you know about the latest advancement in breeding? Muggles, though they are generally despised, have bred many new species of trees. For example, there was the famous Michurin breeder. Do you know how he died?

- How? - Ollivander asked, dumbfounded.

- He went to fetch watermelons from a tree and got hit by a plum.

- But watermelons don't grow on trees!

- You need to be updated.

Harry held on with absolute confidence. Ollivander snorted angrily and pointed to the scar on Harry's forehead.

- I hate to say it, but I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Tees...

- Oak?

- No, yew.

- Did you buy it - oak?

Nearby, Draco Malfoy choked on a grunt. Ollivander turned resentfully and began placing wands on the counter. This was not a night to remember.

- Which hand are you holding your wand with?

- The left hand.

From Harry's point of view, an idiotic question demanded a stupid answer. Which hand did he hold his wand with? And the herringbone? What about the shovel? How would he know if no one had ever offered him wands?

- Why not? You're right-handed, aren't you?

- What if I want to scratch myself?

Ollivander snorted and silently began to measure Harry's right hand. Draco winked approvingly at Harry behind the old man's back. Harry smirked back at him - and didn't even notice that the ruler had been measuring him for a long time while Ollivander stepped back to the counter and laid some boxes on it.

Harry's only thought was, would there be cockroaches in there?

- Try this wand, Mr. Potter. A beech and a dragon's heart.

Harry obediently took the wand and waved it in front of his nose. A gust of wind whipped up the dirty curtains. Ollivander immediately snatched the baton from his hand.

- It doesn't fit. How about this one? Maple and phoenix feather? Seven inches. Very whip.

Harry gave it a fair try. It wasn't a whip. It did leave a mark on the counter, though. Ollivander also deprived him of that wand until Harry had hollowed out the counter.

And then there was another wand. And another. And again.

Harry snapped at the seventh wand.

- Mr. Malfoy, isn't a shop with an average range here?

Malfoy, who was also fed up with this wand-waving, sighed indicatively.

- I suppose...

- Try this wand, Mr. Potter.

Ollivander was frankly angry, but who cared about his feelings. Harry took the wand in his hands. Suddenly the tips of his fingers warmed. And as he swung it, a stream of scarlet and gold sparks was summoned from the end of the wand.

- Good!

- Finally," Harry muttered.

- Very curious," Ollivander muttered. - 'Very curious.

And since no one asked him what he thought was curious, he continued on his own.

- This phoenix gave away two quills. And the sister of this wand you have now purchased left this scar on your forehead.

- Hence the conclusion - don't sell wands to any freaks," Harry muttered.

Ollivander gave him an odd look and turned to Draco. Tom was picked up with a powerful and neat wand - a beech and the heart vein of a dragon. Ollivander kept muttering under his breath.

- Destiny is a strange thing. You are bound to the untitled-and presumably not just by that magic wand... We must expect great things from you, yes, sir. Tremendous things... Perhaps terrible, but great.

Harry rolled his eyes. This wand-wielding sibyl* in his trousers bore him worse than the bitterest of buggers. And so, on the threshold, he turned around.

Don't you think it's silly to expect awful things from an eleven-year-old boy instead of doing them yourself? At the very least, you have folk heroes, don't you? Professor Two-Bulldog, for example? Or is there no one else to rely on but me? Freeloaders.

And slammed the door.

Lucius Malfoy laughed, wiping away the tears.

- Henry, I can see why Snape is so terrified of you.

- May I point out, sir, that I am equally terrified of his manner?

Lucius Malfoy stood in the middle of the street for the first time in years and laughed heartily.