Perfesser: Hello people of the FanFiction world, I have come to you with yet another story. This is a response to a challenge issued by Paladeus (awesome author, I highly recommend his work) or more specifically, the Survivor Harry challenge.

The rules are as follows:

Setting: Harry has learnt about magic during the time he spent locked up in his cupboard while he was a child living with the Dursleys. One night, while being beaten up by Vernon for having used magic, eight year old Harry somehow disappears, reappearing in the bedroom of Hermione Granger. He was a brief meeting with her parents as well, and explains to them some things regarding magic. As he is leaving, Hermione tells him that she is also able to perform magic.

In turn, Harry creates two crystal necklaces, one of which he keeps, and the other he gives to Hermione. These allow them to sense each other, communicate, and even feel each other's emotions, although that comes much later. After explaining the crystal's function, Harry leaves.

Pairing: Harry/Hermione is necessary, while H/Hr/LL is an option. (I'm going with the latter.) All of the three must be in Ravenclaw. An official relationship should have begun between the summer after second year and before the start of the fourth year.

Bashing: There is no bashing per se, but Ron will not be a friend either. The rules of the challenge state that Ron will be replaced by Luna in the Golden Trio. I'm not yet sure where I stand regarding Dumbledore.

Antagonist: Voldemort

If you need more details regarding the challenge, you can find it from Paladeus's profile. As you might notice, I'm trying to keep it as close to the one issued as possible. Furthermore, I might decide to combine this with another challenge of Paladeus's, the 'Shattered Mirror of Erised' challenge. For more about that one, you'll have to go read up, because I can't fill up two pages merely explaining the challenges in full detail. That's going to get monotonous fast.

So, I realise there are quite a few clichés in this chapter, but I'm trying to stick to the guidelines here. Plus, before anyone complains about the Goblins being so darn helpful to Harry, hold your horses until the next chapter. That isn't the case.

And also, I cited the date here to give readers a reference point. Should I continue for every chapter, or is it unnecessary. Also, there is an Easter egg here, concerning the names of the Grangers. Double chocolate chip cookies for anyone who can tell me which show I'm referencing there!

Well, I hope you guys enjoy this, I'll hopefully post again soon. Read, review, and favourite or follow if you like it.

June 28, 1989

Vernon Dursley was not the kind of man that you would go out of your way to anger. With an intimidating height of nearly 190 centimetres, and the mass of a small car, he could frighten even the best of men, especially with his infamous temper.

Unfortunately, the young Harry Potter had no escape from his uncle's constant rage. The boy was nothing but a twig compared to his behemoth of a uncle. Weighing barely twenty five kilograms, and not an inch above 85 centimetres, he stood no chance against Vernon.

As it were, he happened to be the man's favourite target. Harry knew not why, but over the years he had grown use to his uncle's hatred for him. Nonetheless, he knew that the man would always allow his frustrations to further fuel his hate, and take it all out on Harry.

It was not very rare to find Vernon beating the boy vehemently while yelling out insults to both his person and his late parents. Just as it was on this night, where Vernon had witnessed the boy using magic to make things float.

"Get up, you freak! Your no-good parents went and got themselves killed, only to unload you onto two fine, upstanding citizens! I will not have it you hear me!" Vernon bellowed, as he raised the boy with one hand, before throwing him against the staircase, allowing a sickeningly sadistic smile to spread across his face.

The eight year old quickly pushed himself up, ignoring the blood that he could feel flowing down his forehead, sticking his hair against his forehead. He knew that not responding would only anger his uncle further. "Yes, sir."

"Don't you dare talk back to me boy!" The alcohol-addled mind of Vernon Dursley made no sense to Harry, who was once again hoisted up by his uncle, this time by the neck. The man slammed the boy against the wall, before he slowly began to squeeze his throat. "Maybe I'll just have to squeeze all the freakiness out of you!"

Harry clawed at his uncle's meaty hand, his feeble attempts to escape completely in vain. He could hear his uncle's mad chuckles, but the blood falling from his forehead prevented him from even opening his eyes, let alone seeing.

At that moment, unable to see, with the only sensations being the aches all across his body, and feeling himself slowly losing consciousness, there was only one thing that the boy could think. 'I need to get away.'

And with those thoughts, Harry disappeared from his uncle's grasp, and from House Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging. Vernon's purple face only seemed to swell further in anger, before he punched the wall in front of him. "Freak!"

Harry felt a sensation of lightness for a moment, almost as if he were nothing but thin air. He briefly contemplated whether this was death, but before he could do anything to confirm this belief, he suddenly found himself being just as heavy as he was a moment ago, and suddenly all the pain he had been experiencing came back. He bit his tongue to avoid screaming, as he fell onto a rather soft surface.

He immediately sat up, using his sleeve to wipe away the blood on his face, to better gauge his surroundings. He was inside a dark room, which had one window, allowing some light to seep into the space. Next to the window was a large wooden desk, covered with thick books, and various writing utensils lay sprawled across the surface.

He turned around, to see a queen size bed, covered with soft covers, and many small stuffed animals. But that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the girl that sat on the bed, looking at him with wide eyes.

Hermione Granger had a bad habit of reading in bed. So suffice it to say she had been taken completely by surprise when she heard a rather loud thud in the middle of the night. Turning off the handheld torch she was using to read, she had first thought her mind was playing tricks on her, and that there was nothing there. But a mere second later, she saw a figure rise from the floor, near the foot of her bed. She remained silent, so as to not alert it of her presence. Though, judging by the fact that the figure was quite a bit smaller than her, she thought she might use the element of surprise and take it down.

But before she could take any course of action, the figure turned around, revealing a boy who looked slightly younger than her. But then her eyes caught his bloodshot eyes, and the fact that blood covered his hair and face. And in that moment, there was only one thing she could do. Scream.

And scream she did. Even the boy winced at her volume, and only a moment later, her father slammed open the door, stepping in. When he caught sign of a dishevelled boy near the bed, he immediately jumped at him, grabbing him by the arm and raising him into the air. "Who the heck are you, and what are you doing here in my daughter's room?"

Harry subconsciously thought that the man could have given Vernon a run for his money. But he couldn't say a thing. Rather, all he could do was scream due to the excruciating pain that shot up his arm, a result of Vernon's last punishment.

Hermione quickly jumped onto her feet, and began tugging at her father's shirt, greatly distressed by seeing the boy in pain. "Daddy stop, he's already really badly hurt."

Robert took a moment to look over the boy, and dropped him down once he saw all the injuries he had sustained, as a sudden sense of dread filled him. He looked over to the doorway, where his wife stood, staring in horror at the state of the boy. "Allison, quick, call for an ambulance. This boy need immediate medical attention."

Just as she was about to head downstairs to telephone the nearest ambulance, the boy once again began to talk. "No! I don't need any help. Don't call an ambulance." Allison watched as the boy pushed himself off the carpeted floor, which was now wet with his blood, before he raised his hand against his chest, where a large bruise surrounded a bloody gash.

A soft glow seemed to emanate from his palm, but in turn, the wound on his chest seemed to grow smaller and smaller, as the bruise also alleviated. The boy bit his tongue in pain as the healing process continued. "This is the worst part."

All three Grangers watched as the boy slowly yet surely healed any major wounds he had. The older two were amazed at the feat, finding it completely incredulous. The boy must have had multiple fractures, and probably a few broken bones, including his ribs. This should have taken months to heal in a hospital. But instead, the boy had taken care of them within a few minutes, and right in front of him.

"What are you doing?" Harry looked up to the girl who had asked the question. For a moment he contemplated lying, but then he saw the worry in their eyes, genuine concern, which was something of a foreign feeling for him. Going by that, he decided it wouldn't be too bad if he told them a bit about the truth. "It's magic. I know it sounds crazy, but I can use magic to do things like healing myself, or cleaning things up."

Once Harry had healed himself to the best of his own abilities, he used another spell to cleanse himself and his clothes of all the blood, to make his point, and followed that by doing the same for the carpet.

"But how can you do these things?" Hermione could feel her heart racing. Over the past few months, she had moments whlere she had done things she couldn't understand, things she couldn't explain. But here, in front of her was a boy her age who seemed to be able to do similar things.

Harry smiled slightly as he looked at the girl, and he saw the passion in her gaze. "You're a smart person, and I see a fierce intelligence burning in your eyes, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Hermione blushed slightly at his kind words. Her father though wasn't nearly as pleased with that sentiment. "Well, how come you appeared in this exact spot, and in our daughter's room?"

Harry looked up at the faces of the two older Grangers. Hermione looked like a miniature version of her mother, except for the fact that Allison's hair was in bushy black locks. She smiled at the boy kindly, and the wizard could see the worry in her eyes. Her father also held the same concern in his eyes, but his face was much sterner as he stared at the boy calculatingly, unnerving him slightly. "I don't know. I just, had to get away from something, and the next thing I know, I'm here. I think my magic took me somewhere where it thought I would be safe."

Allison looked over to her husband, and they exchanged looks of fear. They didn't know much about the magic part, but they were pretty positive they knew what the boy had been trying to escape, judging from his injuries. "Well, it's alright. I guess you just needed a safe place to stop for a while."

Both Hermione and Harry were taken aback by Allison's words. Hermione had expected her to ask further into the matter, yet she had dropped it completely.

The boy knew that their kindness aside, he couldn't stay there for longer than he had. He marched to the corner slowly, before turning to face the Grangers. "I'm sorry for having disturbed you. I should get going now."

"Wait!" Hermione ran at him, worried he would vanish. He was her chance at knowing what was happening to her. She couldn't let this moment slip out of her hands. "I need you to tell me about magic. I've been doing things that no ordinary human can. I can make thing float, or disappear. I can even change the colour of things if I concentrate."

Robert's face morphed from one of suspicion and doubt to shock and confusion very rapidly. He looked between his daughter and the strange boy, as if wanting to confirm what Hermione had just said. Allison herself gasped at her daughter's words, as she found it difficult to imagine that Hermione was not only able to perform magic, but had also kept it a secret from them.

Harry stood surprised at her confession, and out of the corner of his eyes he could see that her parents had looks of even greater surprise. Harry allowed his magic to flow out of him and surround the girl. He was shocked when her own magic reacted by becoming even more powerful, if only slightly. She did indeed have magic within her.

The boy smiled at her, before cupping his hands in front of his mouth. He slowly blew into his hands, and the young Granger could see a glow emanate from within his fists.

Robert was only growing more perplexed by the wild situation. The boy seemed to be forming aomething using his magic, and the idea of that caused him to protectively edge toward Hermione.

Harry was not sure what he was doing, but he just wanted to create something which would keep him connected to Hermione. She was the first person his age he had met who was kind to him. Who didn't judge him, but rather chose to trust him. It caused a sharp sensation of delight in his chest, and a small smile formed on his face. He was glad to have gotten away from the Dursleys. He was even gladder that he had ended meeting someone like Hermione.

And he channeled all those thoughts, all of that joy, and that desire to remain friends with her into his palms, causing a soft glow to emanate from his hands.

He drew back, before revealing what had manifested in his hands to the Grangers. On his palms were two small crystal, each one being tightly wrapped in strips of leather, forming two necklaces. One glowed a soft amber, while the other was a bright green.

"Keep that away from my daughter!" Robert nearly lunged at the boy, who apparently had drawn two crystals from thin air. He had no idea what those might do to his daughter, and he wasn't too eager to find out.

Hermione in turn looked up toward her father. "Dad, he's just like me, and I need you to trust him. If you can't trust him, than you shouldn't trust me either. I have been confused about the stuff I can do for a long time now, but maybe he can teach me about it. I don't want to live confused about something I can do. I need to understand it Dad, and you know me better than anyone, so you know that's true."

Harry took her action as permission, and came closer once more. This time her father did not react, further encouraging the young boy. He carefully placed the necklace with the amber crystal around Hermione's neck, before donning the other himself. The crystals began to glow madly, and all four of the people present were forced to look away. The light slowly died though, and the crystals stopped glowing completely.

Hermione looked to the boy, and felt a strange feeling of familiarity course through her. "We are now connected Hermione. You are a true witch." The girl nearly jumped as she heard the foreign voice echo in her mind, before she realised it was the boy who sat in front of her.

"Now I'll be able to talk to you whenever you wish. This way I can tell you all I know about magic." Harry explained, before turning to her parents. "I promise you, no harm will come to your daughter from this."

Robert had seemingly calmed down greatly, as he studied the crystals. "So, this should allow you to teach Hermione about her magical abilities?" He inquired, still unsure of the boy.

"Yes. And I'll also know where she is, no matter where she goes as long as she wears this necklace." Harry replied, before walking back to the corner of the room. "Now, I need to go. And once again, I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Wait! What's your name?" Allison yelled out the question just before Harry left, wanting to know a bit more about the magical being that had apparently appeared in there daughter's room.

Harry smiled once more. He had rarely been shown such kindness from others, and felt as if he could trust the Grangers, merely judging by the sheer concern they had for him, and the great love he could see they had for their daughter. "My name is Harry, Harry Potter." With that, he told his magic to take him to the nearest place where it could sense magic. He felt the feeling of weightlessness encompass him once more, and just as he vanished, he heard Hermione yell, "Bye Harry!"

As the boy faded out of existence, the older Grangers sat down onto the bed, taking a deep breath to digest what had just occurred. Robert let out a small chuckle, catching the attention of both the females. "Well, Hermione, looks like you're an authentic witch."

Hermione grinned madly at these words, before letting out a shrill shriek of excitement, and hugging her parents.

In the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, a small contraption began to glow red and spout out puffs of smoke. As it were, no one was in the office to notice the alarm. The device furiously pumped out smoke, before it began to crack. Slowly, the cracks spread, before it shattered completely, pieces flying all over the office, and the object releasing a gigantic cloud of smoke. The next morning would see to it that the House Elves employed by Hogwarts would clean up any evidence of the alarm having gone off at all.

Harry felt himself land on a cold cobblestone street, and he looked around to see that he was in a dark street, surrounded by shops that had been locked up for the night. He got up, brushing some dirt off of his clothes, before walking up the street.

The young wizard didn't know what to make of his strange method of transport. It was most likely his magic responding to his commands, taking him to wherever he desired. Kind of like teleportation. 'Hmmm, maybe that's what I'll call it.'

He saw bookstores, clothes shops, and even an ice cream parlour, ur all were dead silent. At the end of the alley was a large building, with uneven marble pillar, and a door of solid gold, but it too was closed.

As he walked past a large pet store, he suddenly heard voices, or more specifically, cackling laughter. He turned toward the direction the laughter came from, and saw another alley which broke off from the main street. He could definitely hear laughter from the alley, and he could see dim lights just around the turn. Knowing that it would be best if he asked someone else about this magic business, he began to hastily walk down the lane, oblivious to the sign that hung on the wall, reading, 'Knockturn Alley'.

As the boy continued moving toward the light source, and turned the corner to see a huge group of people. They were dressed in a variety of colours, but all of them wore robes with cloaks over it to protect from the night. The source of the light had been a large fire they had going in the centre. After a moment, he realised that most of the people were asleep, and the others were too occupied with bottles of beer to even notice him. He discreetly moved around the people, sticking to the shadows as best possible. He sat himself down in a corner taking a deep breath, and allowing himself to rest. He had greatly underestimated how exhausted he had been by the use of magic, and felt himself falling asleep before he even realised it.

The next morning, Harry woke to the bustle of business, and the constant chatter of people. He put up his hand in a feeble attempt to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight. After allowing himself a moment to wake up completely, he got up from the cold floor, and looked around to see the most bizarre scene he could witness. He saw people rushing around, most wearing robes, while some opted to wear shirts and pants. Some were carrying bags and loads of goods, moving through the crowd with practiced actions.

The boy began walking towards the main street that he had landed upon yesterday. Unlike the previous night, it was now bustling with activity, and Harry was barely able to navigate his way through the thick crowds. He walked straight towards the white building, which he saw was labelled 'Gringotts Bank'. He knew he'd need money for whatever he wanted to do and for food. And banks had money, maybe they'd be willing to give him a small loan.

As he stepped into the bank, he read the warning inscribed upon the large doors, and couldn't help but feel great fear. His fear only grew when he saw the guards, which were creatures armed to the tooth with dagger. As he walked in, they kept their glares aimed at him, as if daring him to make a move.

Stepping inside was no better, as he was still surrounded by the same creatures, except now they wore suits, which only made them seem even more frightening. Harry did his best to not show any fear, as he strolled down the hall to the only table where there was an unoccupied teller.

The table was a good metre taller than him, so he knocked against the wood to catch the attention of the creature. Aforementioned creature leaned over the desk to look down at the boy, before muttering in a low, rough voice. "What, may I do for you, young sir?"

Harry was greatly intimidated by his smile, which revealed a mouthful of dagger like teeth. But he steeled his nerves, before responding. "I would like to take a loan."

The creature continued to stare at the boy for a few seconds, almost as if he was pondering something. "We do not offer loans. But I think that I can help you in another way. Follow me."

The teller stepped out from behind the table, and revealed himself to be just as tall as Harry. He gestured for the young wizard to follow him, leading into a small corridor that continued on from the main lobby. The boy watched as they passed many doors, before they stopped in front of one which was a morbid black, with gold on its corners. The teller pushed open the door, and made a gesture for the boy to step in.

Inside was a small office, which was grand despite its size. There was an ornate oak table resting opposite the door, behind which was a large armchair. On the armchair was yet another of the creatures, suited in fine clothes, working. He looked up to see Harry enter. "Griphook, who is this?"

The teller bowed slightly to the other creature, before he replied. "This is the scion of the Potter family, sir. He is in need of funds."

The senior of the two placed a calculative gaze upon the boy, before leaning back in his seat. "Very well. You are dismissed, Griphook."

The teller shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harry couldn't help but feel as if was a small animal, being studied by a vicious predator. The banker gestured towards a small chair in front of him, and Harry quickly sat down.

"Well, well, well, it has been quite some time since a Potter scion stepped into my office. Now, tell me, what do you require?"

Harry replied hastily, not wanting to annoy the creature. "I just need some money. And what do you mean by Potter scion?"

The creature seemed rather surprised by the question, but he masked it well. "You are the male heir of the Potters. And regarding the matter of money, that can easily be arranged. Your parents left you a rather generous trust fund in their will, and the funds have been accumulating for quite some time now."

Harry was greatly surprised by this information. His aunt had always told him his mother and father had no money, and had left him nothing. But now he was being told that his parents had gone as far as to set up a trust fund for him. It was possible that Petunia had merely not known of the money his parents might have had in the magical world, but he doubted it greatly. "How much money is there right now?"

"I think it would be best if I first explained a bit to you regarding your family." The creature spoke cryptically. "The Potters were known for their strong magical abilities, and produced some of the finest Aurors in Britain. Those who did not wish to fight became Unspeakables, another very respectable position. Both of these jobs brought fame and fortune to your family, and every generation added more to the wealth of the Potters. Today, it stands as one of the richest families in Magical Britain. Even your parents contributed greatly to the family's treasures." The creature pulled a thick tome out of a drawer, putting it down on the table.

"This contains information on your parents, financially speaking. Every audit, every transaction, and every deposit they ever made is in here. Your father was a Senior Auror, which gave him a rather fat salary of 40,000 Galleons per year. As it were, he only worked for two years before his untimely death.

Your mother, however, created something that still benefits the Potters today. She produced potions which could hold spells. Drink a Protego spell, and one would grow more resilient for a certain time period, and so on. She sold the rights of those potions to an American company, Unimagical was the name of I remember correctly, and in turn she receives one percent of the royalties from every such potion they make. Over the past thirteen years, their business has been booming in the states, and your pockets have deepened significantly as a result. Let me see…yes, the average gain from Unimagical is around 80,000 Galleons per annum. And that's despite the fact that they're selling the stuff as cheap as dirt."

Harry didn't seem to understand much. All that he registered was that his parents had also both been magical, and that his mother had been something of a genius. But the other things, such as Aurors and Galleons simply flew over him

The banker took stock of the boy's face, and noted that he was still confused. "Now, do you have any questions, Mr. Potter?"

"What are Galleons, and Aurors? And how do you make spells and potions?" The creature sighed at the barrage of questions. It seemed like the boy was out of touch with his magical heritage. "Do you know what I am, Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked away, slightly ashamed of having to admit to that fact. The creature sighed once more. He had his work cut out for him. "I am Pincrack, and like my fellow brethren, am a Goblin, and we manage Gringotts, the Wizarding World's Bank. Galleons, are the highest form of currency in the magical world, with the others being Sickles, and Knuts. Twenty nine Knuts form a Sickle, and 17 Sickles form a Galleon. An Auror is a highly trained professional who works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and protects the magical populace from threats. Spells and potions are forms of magic. Spells are usually used with a wand, although some may use a staff, or nothing at all. Potions are brewed using magical ingredients, and all have separate effects, depending on the ingredients. And I am willing to bet you haven't heard of Hogwarts either." When he saw the boy timidly shake his head, he continued. "It is Britain's school for witchcraft and wizardry, and it is most likely that you shall attend it. The place you are currently in is Diagon Alley, the largest magical market in all of London."

Harry sat back as he allowed himself to think over those words. His parents must have been good at magic if they did so much. He felt a small weight lift off his shoulders as he realised that his parents had indeed left him something in the world. It was also comforting to know that his parents had been magical, just as he was. "What about the trust fund you mentioned earlier?"

"Well, the trust fund gains 500 Galleons every year since your birth. And over the last eight years, it has amassed no less than 4,000 Galleons. The Muggle equivalent should be around 20,000 pounds."

Harry could feel his jaw slacken and his eyes widen as the creature spoke. He doubted that he'd be able to spend such a massive amount in three decades, let alone until the age of eight. And suddenly, having such a fortune thrust upon him. He felt eager to go out a purchase for himself a few good things. But first he had a few important questions to ask Pincrack a few questions. "How can I withdraw some of that money?"

The goblin smiled at the boy, who seemed to have processed all that information rather quickly. "To access the trust vault, you require a key. But, judging by your situation, you evidently don't have it. In that case, you have another option. Most old accounts, such as yours, have a identification system. Although I'm more than sure that Griphook can tell you all that you need to know regarding that once you see your vault. You may take him from here, Griphook."

"Yes, sir." Harry nearly screamed at the voice that came from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see the teller that had brought him to the office standing behind.

The goblin grinned slightly, obviously enjoying the reaction he had received. "Please follow me, Mr. Potter. I shall take you to your vault." With that he turned on his heels, and Harry began to follow. Then silently walked back to the main lobby, which was much more crowded than it had been ten minutes ago.

They turned towards the mouth of a cave, which had ten sets of railings, and ten small carts on each set of railings. Griphook helped the boy into one in a rather forceful manner, before pulling himself into it as well. He then pulled down a lever, and looked to Harry with a mischievous smile. "Brace yourself."

But Harry had no time to do so as the cart lurched forth with great velocity, descending into the dark tunnels at breakneck speeds. The young wizard held onto the sides of the cart for dear life, but was still able to enjoy the rush of wind against his face. The cart moved up, down, right, left, diagonally and in all directions imaginable, until it finally screeched to a halt. There was a wide space to stand on, next to which was a long wall, with large doors built into it after every few metres.

"Vault 687. Step right here please." The goblin waited until the boy had stepped off before he himself got off, and lightly pulled Harry up to the black metallic door.

"Now press your hand against the door, and it shall identify you." The wizard followed Griphook's instructions, carefully holding his hand against the door. He felt a slight prick on his palm, and immediately recoiled his hand. But the purpose had been fulfilled, as the door swung inwards, showing the interior of the vault.

The first thing that Harry caught sight of was the mountain of gold coins that was piled in the centre, surrounded by smaller piles of silver and bronze coins. He stepped inside and lifted one of the Galleons, subconsciously noting that it felt heavy enough to be actual gold.

"This bag can expand to hold up to 1000 Galleons at a time, and I believe those would be sufficient for any expenditures you shall make in the near future." Griphook held out a small leather pouch in his clawed fingers, and Harry took it with great care, not wanting to risk cutting himself. He didn't think that the bag would be able to hold so many coins, but there was only one way to find out.

Harry used the bag to scoop up bunches of the coins, but he didn't feel it getting any heavier. It took him nearly a minute to fill it, but he knew it was full when it had filled to the brim with the wizarding currency. He was amazed that it still carried no weight, as if it was completely empty.

Griphook waited patiently as the Potter scion filled the pouch. He could see that the boy was a novice when it came to matters regarding the wizarding world, but he still didn't understand how he could be so enthralled by things as simple as an expansion charm.

Just as the boy was wrapping up his mission of collecting as much gold as the bag could hold, his eyes fell upon a small, leather bound book that lay in the far corner of the vault. He shoved the pouch into his pocket before walking towards it, picking it up from the ground. It showed obvious signs of wear and tear, but once he opened it, he saw that it was full with long passages, which were labelled with dates after every few pages. The handwriting was mostly a neat, flowing hand, but would sometimes feature a scratchy, barely legible scrawl. "Can I take this as well, Griphook?"

"You can take anything in here, it's all yours." The goblin replied, getting tired of having to deal with the ignorant boy.

Harry quickly grabbed the book as well, clutching it close to himself as they left the vault, which automatically closed behind them.

They sat back in the cart, and this time Griphook pulled on a different lever, before it went flying back up the way they came.

Author's Note:

Hello people, this is the first chapter of a story I wrote earlier this year, from a different account on this website, and now I'm just in the process of recollecting all of these to my main account.

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami