"So this is my inheritance?" I asked with a certain… tremor of awe and excitent in my voice, looking at the wrinkled little banker with predatory features and a long sharp nose—who, despite his appearance, was behaving relatively politely toward the young wizard in front of him.
"That is correct, Mr. Potter. More precisely, this is your child vault, which Jas Potter opened nearly eleven years ago, putting what are now your funds to work," the goblin replied in a formal tone, while continuing to irritate my magical sensitivity. There were many sources of all kinds of magic in this bank, but goblins… Are they even wizards? They felt more like strange Squibs, like our unpleasant neighbor, than anything else.
"My father… put the money to work?" Even those odd sensations from being near the goblin did not stop from asking what mattered right now… I more or less understood what the little creature ant, but it was still worth clarifying. Especially since Minerva was calmly letting indulge a bit of curiosity.
"Indeed. To be specific, the funds were placed under a floating interest rate. If the young wizard wishes, the bank can provide you with statents of all financial operations connected to this vault… for four Knuts," the banker bared his teeth, making McGonagall press her lips together in faint displeasure.
"That… would be very useful," I decided, since thanks to the Bulgarian's lectures I had a rough sense of what money was worth in the magical world. Even if the statent would cost about as much as a solid lunch at a decent café, it was still worth it. Especially considering… the sheer scale of the gold piled in my vault.
"Mr. Potter, are you sure you should be spending your parents' money on sothing like that?" the Deputy Headmistress suddenly stepped into the conversation, and her… restrained interest in the matter made my paranoia flare. After all, the key to my vault had been in her hands until recently… or perhaps in Dumbledore's, who, if mory from my old life served, could look rather ambiguous on screen.
"Is there so sort of problem?" I frowned, making my confusion clear in response to her displeasure. "I should at least have a rough idea of how much money I have… and how well its 'growth' actually works in this bank."
"That is, without doubt, true… But Gringotts usually requires about an hour to prepare a full statent. And we do not have much free ti. Do not forget, Mr. Potter, you still have a whole list of important purchases ahead of you," the older witch said sternly, apparently thinking that such a… cheap trick would cool my interest.
"It will take about two hours, but no one has the right to keep you in the bank. Once ordered, the statent of the account's status and history may be collected at any ti within the next six months," the goblin confird, catching my look and slightly easing my concern.
"If the only issue is not wanting to waste extra ti on sothing outside the required program… then I can actually understand McGonagall. I never liked staying late at work either," I thought distantly. Despite that, I still ordered the papers and insisted to Minerva that we could quickly drop by the bank again after all the shopping.
That arrangent more or less satisfied the strict professor, though at first she kept twisting her mouth. In the end, to request the statent I also had to fill out a special application form, which could be a real challenge for an ordinary eleven-year-old boy, simply because of the difficulty of writing English quickly and neatly.
I ran into so problems too, since I had never written anything with a quill before, so my first attempt to deal with "magical handwriting" was quite the ordeal… But in the end I at least understood why it was necessary. While I wrote, the quill—completely ordinary in appearance and according to all my senses—sohow drew a few drops of magic out of , which would apparently be used as a kind of signature. They never even asked to sign by hand.
Magic, pure and simple… But I was satisfied with the work done and allowed McGonagall to hurry along to the rest of the purchases. Nothing critical, especially since we went first for a student trunk with expanded space, potion ingredients, new cauldrons, special scales, telescopes and star charts for Astronomy, protective gloves for Herbology, and ordinary robes… along with which I also made sure to buy a few sets of everyday clothes.
The Dursleys did sotis buy new clothes, but most of my wardrobe still consisted of Dudley's old things. Vernon and Petunia were far too unwilling to spend money on clothing for every half year, or even more often. I was growing, like almost every boy my age, quite quickly—sotis changing shoes twice in a single season.
"Luckily, the school uniform, according to the shopkeeper, can adjust itself to a wizard's body… within fairly narrow limits, but even if I grow another ten centiters this year, nothing terrible should happen," I smiled a little awkwardly, sensing that McGonagall had finally cald down completely after my little stunt at the bank… and just in ti.
"Oh, Minerva! Back again? The usual, then? First-year textbook set?" the bookseller greeted us cheerfully and warmly in the bookshop I had been trying to reach for so long… I had even tried to send Krusho here once, promising him all the pocket money I had saved up in exchange for more magical literature… but that had not worked out.
"Good afternoon, William. We need the standard set," my escort nodded politely to the rather stout man, clearly intending to deal with this shop the sa way she had handled every other one. Minerva seed to know every wizard and shopkeeper on this street, which let her handle my purchases at maximum speed. Even so, we had already spent a good deal of ti on all these errands…
"Um, Professor… may I look around a bit?" I asked quietly, not even trying to hide the interest, excitent, and impatience in my voice. "What if I find sothing interesting…"
"Well… go ahead, Mr. Potter," McGonagall hesitated, but still nodded, taking advantage of the fact that the bookseller had already disappeared into the back. She clearly still did not want to draw attention by saying my surna too loudly. "Just rember that Hogwarts has its own library, and almost everything in this shop will be available to you at school as well."
"All right, I won't take much," I smiled, though in truth I had a very specific plan and even a list of books I wanted to buy… And I would rather not rember how reluctantly the Bulgarian had answered my questions on the subject. The bastard had sensed that I was trying to trick him into delivering new books to … and it hadn't worked. But now that list was extrely useful.
Still, out of the eight textbooks and spell collections I wanted, I only found five, fully understanding that directly asking the shopkeeper for specific titles in my current situation would be far too… obvious. Questions that precise would reveal to my escort that I understood more than I should about the magical world.
"Well, this should be enough for now," I smiled, handing my little stack of books to the shopkeeper… Though the Head of Gryffindor still checked my selection, looking slightly surprised by two books on household magic, but she did not dwell on it. I think the volu titled Foundations of Transfiguration by Bark pleased her in so way…
So, after paying for my extra purchases—almost as much as I had paid for all the other required books combined—I left yet another magical shop, feeling fatigue start to creep over … Until then, I had kept myself energized by having a clear goal in the bookshop. But once my plan was more or less successfully carried out, exhaustion from nearly three hours of walking between scattered shops all across Diagon Alley ca crashing down with unexpected force.
"Are you all right, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall seed to notice the change in my mood at once and stepped closer with mild concern. "Tired of pulling the trunk?"
"Sothing like that," I let out a long breath, not even trying to force a cheerful expression. "All these errands are exhausting…"
"I can understand," the witch gave a thin smile, a hint of awkwardness on her face… as she cast so kind of charm on my luggage, making the school trunk feel even lighter. Though it had never been especially heavy. If the cobblestones in the magical world were a bit smoother, even I, an eleven-year-old boy, could have dragged it around all day without trouble. "But do not worry. We only have two shops left on the agenda."
"A wand and… sorry, I don't rember there being anything else on the list," I frowned, never having had any issues with mory. Even in my previous life, I had been surprised by how people forgot recent conversations, or how many university students struggled with the simple morization of so non-core subject…
In this life, my mory was even better. I could picture even the small details from the Hogwarts letter I had read several tis as if it were right in front of my eyes… Which was why I did not understand what second shop McGonagall ant. According to the list, the only thing left was buying a wand.
"It was not on the list, but… every student at Hogwarts is allowed to have a personal pet. Usually cats, toads, or owls, but sotis the school permits sothing more exotic," my future Transfiguration professor returned to her improvised lecture. "And you, Mr. Potter, will certainly benefit from having your own pet. Ideally, a personal post owl, which, believe my experience, can make any correspondence between wizards much easier."
"I see… But I already have a cat. And I think I can convince Dudley and my relatives to let him co with to school," I hesitated, understanding that an owl really could be useful, but also… "Can I bring two pets to Hogwarts?"
"Normally that is not encouraged, but one extra cat will certainly not be a great problem," Minerva answered easily, making nod thoughtfully… In my past life, I had cared for both a cat and a pug at the sa ti. I suspected I even missed those days and my pets, so I would not object to buying an owl. Especially if it truly replaced a normal mailman in the magical world…
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