Chapter 5

The building in front of their group was decrepit, old and very much mundane. It was a pub but even the name was unappetising: The Leaky Cauldron.

"Please tell me that not all English pubs have such awful names!" Ed complained the very second that he caught a glimpse of it.

"Not in surrey but I don't know anything about London." Harry answered.

"This ain' yer normal pub, boys. This is a wizar'ding pub!"

"Muggles and the leaky cauldron? Normal English is fine but what is up with wizarding English?"

"don' know what yer mean, Ed."

"I do." Harry confirmed.

The three walked through the old door, the wood it was made of worn and chipped. There was something chaotic happening within – there was no fight, it was just the atmosphere of the place. The weirdest combination of people that Ed had ever seen – and that was saying a lot – were sitting around a combination of mismatched tables and at the bar. Not one of them was silent – a group of old mean were talking complete gibberish at one table and a group of giggling, teenage witches were giggling about some wizarding celebrity at the next. A nervous looking man with a wonky turban balance precariously on his head looked at them as they made their humble entrance, his eyes wide and his lips quivering.

"The usual I presume, Hagrid?" The barman called out upon witnessing their entrance.

"Not today Tom. I'm here on official Hogwar's business. I'm takin' young Harry and Ed a get their school supplies!"

"Well I never, it's harry potter!" the barman exclaimed. After much unwanted attention that neither Harry nor Ed understood in the slightest their group managed to break through the excited bustle at last.

"Firs' stop, Gringotts." Hagrid declared as they stood in front of a non-descript brick wall.

"But, Hagrid, how do we get there?" Harry asked.

"We go through the wall." Hagrid claimed as he drew the umbrella that both harry and Ed had seen before.

"Your freakish umbrella again?" Ed asked.

Hagrid supplied him with no verbal response, instead tapping the bricks in what was obviously a very specific order. The brick shifted and melted to form a large archway that stretched far above the boys, accommodating to fit even Hagrid's gargantuan size.

The alley that was revealed to them was strange in every sense of the word. There were strange streets, crammed to bursting with strange businesses, being used by the strange people that filed in disorderly from every direction. Knowing which way to look as they waked down these streets was an impossibility, there were shops of the bizarre magical variety in any direction either of the boys could have chosen to look. There were the shops whose physical appearance caught Harry's eyes, an ice cream parlour, the robe shop and the pet shop. Edward was drawn in by the function of each shop that he saw boldly written on the signs displayed on the store fronts as they passed. There was the book shop, towering and full to bursting with shelves and stacks of books that simply would not fit elsewhere, there was the wand shop, ancient and aging still, and there was the apothecary, most would consider the very nature of some of the merchandise available rathe grotesque but Edward merely saw was a chance to experiment.

Of course, the building towering in front of them was a spectacle in of itself. It stood in a way that would cause great many health problems to any architect of the muggle variety. It quite purposely did not stand straight, a great marble structure made of juxtaposing angles, lines and tilts.

Calmly, Hagrid led them up the steps that took them to the entrance of the structure that they had both admired moments ago. As they approached the great doors a gleaming plaque to the side of it captured Ed's attention. It was engraved with a message of warning – a sinister one – that e suspected was to ward off potential thieves. Gringotts bank Ed thought but how will I withdraw money when I don't so much as know the name of their currency?

Hagrid appeared to have been able to hear his thoughts – a very disturbing ability that would have been (he was not yet versed in occlumency, you see) – as he drew them up to the withdrawal desk.

"What are they?" Harry asked, looking at the humanoid creatures that worked in the bank.

"They're goblins. They're good with money bu' tricky things they can be."

The goblin manning the desk turn his attention to them, his sinister face warping around his words "Yes?"

"We'd like to withdraw some money from the Potter's vault, Hohenheim vault," a sour look crossed Ed's face and stuck to it, causing a concerned look to appear on Harry's "and," Hagrid's voice lowered "I've got a withdrawal to make from vault 713 at the request of Mr Dumbledore."

"And do the young Mr. potter and Mr. Hohenheim," Ed interrupted with an outraged yell.

"It's Elric!"

The goblin continued as though he had never been interrupted "Have their keys?"

"Hold on, I had 'em here." Hagrid grunted as he dug through his many-pocketed coat with astounding vigour. He unceremoniously dumped out a small pile of stale dog biscuits onto the desk, much to the chagrin of the goblin. "Ah! Go' 'em!" He dramatically drew the two gold keys, dwarfed in his hands that were too big for even his ginormous figure.

He passed them across the desk to the goblin – who was looking far less than amused. That was an indication for them to follow as he led them to a little cart, made of cold metal. As they sat uncomfortably on the cold cart it moved down the antiquated tracks at a truly unimaginable speed.

As they sped down the tracks Harry began to feel rather ill, Hagrid grew progressively greener and Ed's laughs of enjoyment grew steadily louder. The goblin – Griphook – was unaffected and bored looking. With a violent lurch forward they stopped and Hagrid clambered out with no shortage of desperation to his movements. His face was the colour of parchment and his balance was completely off. Harry, too, was unsteady on his feet - his knobbly knees shook underneath his weight. Edward, on the other hand, vaulted elegantly over the side of the cart, still completely balanced. The metallic noise that followed him like a dog could be heard again – there were no longer groans of complaint from the tracks to fill the air.

Griphook opened the vault. Mountains of gold, silver and bronze were piled on top of one another, a few heirlooms and artefacts that must have been many generations old. Harry stared on in shock, the precious metals appeared to shine – it was rather blinding – and he couldn't believe his eyes. He cleaned his glasses and checked again. The sight had not changed one bit. He had never had anything, but at that moment he had nearly everything. It all had changed in that mere moment, harry Potter was not the same boy.