"Sorry, Aunt Petunia."

Chapter 4: Here There Be Goblins

Professor McGonagall seemed to think that the excursion was a splendid idea. And so, the four of them found themselves standing on the stairs of Gringotts before the clock struck noon.

That was already more effort than anyone had ever made for Harry.

But he didn’t let himself feel hope just yet. What if the goblins said that there was nothing in the will about him not being allowed to go to Petunia? What if the will said he was to go to his aunt? What if they weren’t allowed to see the will at all?

The guards at the door certainly didn’t look very enthusiastic to see them enter.

“Hello,” he said timidly, but they only glared at him harder.

“Goblins don’t really like us wizards,” Professor Snape whispered to him when they passed the guards. “And with good reasons. Do not feel discouraged: they are very professional.”

Harry managed to feel a little bit better.

The inside of the bank was just as overwhelming as the last time he was there, people and goblins bustling on the separate sides of a long counter.

Finding the shortest-looking queue, the four of them prepared themselves for a long wait, even despite the goblins' exceptionally effective services.

Harry waited patiently, used to not expressing any signs of his anxiety. It would’ve gotten him in even bigger trouble if he ever showed impatience during some of his aunt’s and uncle’s rants.

Finally they reached the counter, which somehow still managed to catch Harry by surprise.

“We are here to inquire about the last wills of James Potter and Lily Potter, née Evans,” Professor Flitwick said. He had unanimously been chosen to speak, as his parentage would place him above the humans in goblin hierarchy, just in case the goblins weren’t feeling like being nice that day.

It turned out that that precaution was completely unnecessary.

“Finally!” the goblin - Robok, Harry managed to read his badge - said, throwing his hands up.

Waving his hand, he made a part of the counter rise up. “Follow me!”

Harry was very confused. He was pretty sure that that wasn’t exactly the standard procedure.

They were led to an office that looked pretty much like any Hogwarts teacher’s office, if said teacher was particularly fascinated by axes.

Robok gestured at the chairs.

“As is the common procedure, you will have to take a blood test to confirm that you are who you’re claiming to be,” the goblin said, handing each of them a piece of stone. “The kind of information we are about to share with you is beyond sensitive.”

The professors all used some kind of spell to prick their fingers and press the bleeding tips to the stone surfaces. Harry didn’t know that spell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t really allowed to use magic anyway.

But fortunately for him, he had a scab on his hand from when he’d fallen over that morning. Picking at it, he then pressed the freshly bleeding wound to the stone.

The goblin said nothing, not counting the raise of his brows, when collecting the stones and went towards a set of drawers covering the entire wall behind his desk.

He murmured something that sounded like a confused “Interesting…” when checking the stones, but it seemed to be mere curiosity rather than any sort of obstacle.