Three hours later, Harry stormed out of Gringotts struggling to keep his composure.
Rage boiled just beneath the surface, threatening to erupt into full fury.
He felt stifled, as though the walls of the bank were still closing in on him.
He stalked a short distance up the alley before stopping.
He needed a distraction — anything to pull his mind away from what he had just learned.
His eyes landed on a bookshop further up the alley: Flourish & Blotts.
Reading had always been his escape.
Now, with a pouch full of gold coins in his pocket, he could finally buy his own books instead of sneaking them from the library.
He stepped inside and took a moment to look around.
The creatures — goblins, as he now knew they were called — had not been pleased with him at first, though none of it was his fault.
After the initial blood test confirmed his identity, they demanded to know why he had never responded to any owls.
It took some effort from both sides to clear up the misunderstanding.
Harry explained that the only piece of mail he had ever received in his life was his Hogwarts acceptance letter.
The goblins were furious on his behalf and promised to investigate why their owls had failed to reach him.
Once that was settled, his Potter Account Keeper, Bloodfang, gave him a detailed overview of the Potter family accounts.
The conversation was frequently interrupted as Harry fought to control the waves of anger rising inside him with every new revelation.
He was permitted to visit his trust vault, where he collected a generous amount of gold along with a special coin pouch that the cart goblin demonstrated was much larger on the inside.
He also retrieved two envelopes addressed to him in two distinct styles of handwriting.
Bloodfang then allowed him a brief look inside the other two vaults — one containing records and documents, the other filled with heirlooms and vast reserves of gold — but he was forbidden from entering either until he came of age.
Back on the surface, Bloodfang guided him through the process of blood-locking the coin pouch to prevent theft, then handed him a complete financial statement.
Harry carried the documents in a sturdy pouch the old goblin had gifted him, now slung diagonally across his body from right shoulder to left hip.
Inside Flourish & Blotts, after browsing for a while, Harry approached a sales clerk and asked for help gathering the books required for his first year at Hogwarts.
She smiled warmly.
“Of course, dear. Just give me a moment.”
Once she finished her task, she led him to an aisle on the far side of the store.
“All the Hogwarts textbooks are kept together here, organized by year. First-year books are at the front, up to seventh-year at the back.”
Harry glanced down the aisle.
“Thank you. If you don’t mind, could you also show me where I can find books on the wizarding world and Hogwarts, information about the ancient families, and anything related to magic of the mind?”
“Certainly, dear,” the clerk replied, guiding him through the relevant sections.
After thanking her and letting her return to her duties, Harry decided to collect the first-year textbooks last, since they were already neatly organized.
As he browsed, he came across a section labeled Harry Potter.
Frowning, he scanned the titles.
There were children’s storybooks about him, along with supposedly factual accounts of the night of October 31st, 1981 — the night his parents were murdered and he was taken from his home.
He picked up one children’s novel, Harry Potter and the Deadly Dragon, and two factual books: Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived and The Boy Who Lived: Our Youngest Hero.
He also selected Introduction to Mind Magicks in hopes it would help with his anger and headaches, Hogwarts: A History, A History of the Ancient Houses, An Introduction to the Wizarding World, Noble Etiquette (since he was apparently from a Noble and Ancient House), and Simple Cantrips for the Beauty Conscious — which looked useful for staying unnoticed.
With nine books stacked heavily in his arms, he carried them to the front counter.
“Would you mind if I leave these here while I grab my school textbooks?” he asked the clerk.
“That’s fine, dear,” she replied, barely glancing up.
“We’re not too busy today.”
Harry quickly returned to the Hogwarts aisle, gathered the required textbooks, and brought them back.
The clerk had already started ringing up the first pile on the old mechanical till and seamlessly continued with the second pile as soon as he arrived.
When she finished, she announced the total.
As Harry counted out the exact number of galleons from his pouch, the clerk waved her wand.
The books bundled themselves neatly into two packages, tied with string that danced merrily under her spell.
Harry watched in quiet fascination.
So that’s what real magic looks like.
He handed over the galleons and received his change in sickles and knuts, which he dropped into his pouch.
“Would you like me to shrink them for you, dear?” the clerk asked.
Harry frowned.
“Shrink?”
She blinked, then brightened.
“Oh, of course! You must be Muggle-born. That explains why you bought An Introduction to the Wizarding World among the others. I’m sorry, I should have realized.”
Harry said nothing, choosing not to correct her assumption.
Blushing slightly, the clerk demonstrated.
“Watch.” With a flick of her wand, both packages shrank down to the size of matchboxes.
She tucked her wand away and explained, “To restore them, just press firmly on the knot of the string.” She showed him, then shrank them again.
“See?”
Harry nodded, genuinely surprised by the casual display of magic.
Taking pity on him, the clerk added, “Since you haven’t bought the rest of your school supplies yet, I suggest you visit Porter’s Portmanteaus further down the alley. Ask Mr. Porter for a featherweight charm on your trunk. It’ll make carrying everything much easier while you shop.” She smiled kindly.
Harry thanked the young woman, picked up the shrunken packages, and slipped them into his pocket.