The interior of Gringotts was far more spacious than its exterior suggested, a clear testament to the power of the Undetectable Extension Charm. The grand, marble hall was filled with hundreds of goblins perched on high stools behind long counters, meticulously inspecting jewels, gold coins, and other rare items with scales and magnifying glasses.
Professor McGonagall led them to one of the counters. "We'd like to exchange some currency for these gentlemen," she said to the goblin on duty.
The goblin, who had initially looked impatient, immediately plastered on a fake, obsequious smile upon seeing her. "Hello, Professor McGonagall. Are these new students for Hogwarts?"
She nodded, and the goblin's gaze shifted to Vernon. The fake smile vanished instantly, replaced by the original look of weary impatience. "How much do you want to exchange?"
"May I ask what the exchange rate is?" Vernon asked nervously.
The goblin shot him an irritated glance but answered the question. "Five pounds to one Galleon."
Vernon visibly relaxed. "Excellent!" he said with a grand wave of his hand. "Let's have a thousand to start."
A flicker of mockery crossed the goblin's face. "Sorry, sir. Hogwarts students are permitted to exchange currency only once a year, with a maximum limit of one hundred Galleons."
"Right, then," Vernon mumbled, slightly deflated. "Two hundred Galleons it is." He handed over a thousand pounds, and the goblin pushed two small bags of heavy gold coins across the counter—one for Dudley, one for Harry. Mr. Granger followed suit, exchanging money for Hermione.
Just as they were about to leave, Professor McGonagall said, "Wait. We also need to visit Mr. Harry Potter's vault." She produced a small, golden key from her robes.
After a thrilling, roller-coaster-like ride on a mining cart through the cavernous depths of the bank, they arrived at the Potter family vault. The sight that greeted them was staggering.
"I didn't realize they were so rich," Vernon couldn't help but exclaim, staring at the literal mountains of gold coins piled high inside. He had always assumed his wife's sister and her husband were jobless layabouts. The reality was that they had been scions of a wealthy wizarding family. Converting this hoard to pounds would amount to a considerable fortune. The Dursleys, however, felt no envy, only a genuine happiness for Harry.
"Please purchase the necessary items according to the new student guide," Professor McGonagall instructed once they were back on the main floor. The list, which was on their acceptance letters, included uniforms, gloves, cloaks, textbooks, a wand, a cauldron, glass vials, a telescope, and scales. Students were also permitted to bring an owl, a cat, or a toad.
Dudley frowned as he scanned the list. It wasn't that there were too many items, but too few. For Potions class, there were only three things required: a cauldron, vials, and scales. "Professor McGonagall," he asked, "are we allowed to bring other things?"
"Of course," she replied. "But I must remind you, it's best not to bring Muggle items. They will not function at Hogwarts."
It wasn't that Dudley wanted to bring other things, but that the required equipment was far too basic. To brew potions properly, he planned to bring the full set of laboratory equipment he'd already purchased. And Harry and Hermione will probably need sets too, he thought.
"It's getting late," Professor McGonagall said, glancing at the magical sky visible through the alley's high walls. "I think we should divide the work. The adults and I will purchase the cauldrons, scales, books, and other necessities. You three, our future young wizards, will go and get your wands and be fitted for your uniforms."
Everyone agreed to the arrangement. Vernon and Mr. Granger were particularly pleased, as they had already made plans to visit the Leaky Cauldron for a drink later.
The three children first headed to a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Madam Malkin herself, a short, plump witch with a beaming smile, greeted them, her own robes a vibrant shade of purple.
"Here for Hogwarts uniforms, I presume?" she said politely after sizing them up. "Two first-year sets and one seventh-year, is it?"
Dudley grinned. "No, all first-year."
The answer clearly surprised her. "Ah, alright," she said reflexively, her eyes lingering on Dudley's massive frame. Hogwarts is accepting wizards older than eleven now?
Another boy was already in the shop, being measured by a second witch. He had a pale, pointed face and striking platinum-blonde hair. While Dudley and Hermione were discussing their robes with Madam Malkin, Harry found himself next to the boy, who immediately started a one-sided conversation.
The boy's tone was a lazy, sing-song drawl that made Harry instantly uncomfortable. He asked a series of questions about Hogwarts, but Harry, who knew nothing beyond the name, could only reply with shrugs and "I don't know." Each time, the boy would drawl a long, bored "Ohhh," making Harry feel small and ignorant.
"Hey, look at that oaf," the boy said suddenly, gesturing towards Dudley with a tone that was impossible to discern as praise or contempt. "Says he's a first-year. He's even bigger than Crabbe and Goyle. I bet he eats a lot, too."
If the previous conversation had only been uncomfortable, this comment made Harry's blood boil. "That's my brother!" he said coldly.
"Is he?" the boy replied with a hint of mockery. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They passed away," Harry answered stiffly, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation.
"Oh, sorry," the boy said, though there was no apology in his voice. "They were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were wizards," Harry confirmed.
The mockery on the boy's face faded slightly. "I don't think they should let the other sort in, do you?" he continued, his gaze drifting pointedly towards Hermione, who was clearly dressed in Muggle clothing. "They're just not the same..."
Before he could finish, Harry's face changed drastically, but it was too late to stop him. A large shadow fell over the boy. He felt a heavy hand press down on his head, slowly turning it. He looked up into a large, expressionless face that was uncomfortably close to his own.
In that moment, he felt as if he were being targeted by some magical, ferocious beast. A bone-chilling cold shot up his spine. Dudley slowly grinned, revealing two rows of clean, white teeth. The boy could feel the hot breath from Dudley's nostrils on his face, and he felt, with terrifying certainty, that his own small head could be bitten off at any moment.
"Hello," Dudley's voice was a low, pleasant rumble. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
***
(End of Chapter)
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