Harry Potter: Returning from Hogwarts Legacy

Harry thought for a moment before deciding to tuck the wand back into his robes. After all, he was still counting on the goblin to take him to the vault.

He truly hadn’t expected this—after not seeing this wand for so long, had this old companion developed new abilities?

Perhaps it had absorbed Ranrok’s energy?

Then again, it wasn’t surprising—countless goblins had perished under this wand.

Harry had once been kind-hearted to the point of worrying about harming ants while sweeping the floor, but after witnessing the goblins slaughter entire villages, he had abandoned such misplaced compassion.

Despite Gringotts’ repeated claims that Ranrok’s actions had nothing to do with them, Harry still didn’t believe that the goblins of Gringotts were completely innocent.

As Harry stowed his wand away, the goblins finally emerged from their terrified stupor.

"Good heavens, what on earth is…?" Griphook swallowed hard.

"Don’t ask questions you shouldn’t be asking." Harry’s voice was calm. "Now that I’ve shown you my token, you should take me to the vault, right?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter. This way, please." Griphook said respectfully.

As he led Harry through Gringotts, he discreetly gestured to the other goblins behind him.

Harry noticed the subtle movements but didn’t particularly care.

Before coming to Gringotts, he had already prepared a Portkey in his bag. If activated, it would quickly transport him outside the Leaky Cauldron.

Following Griphook, Harry arrived at a narrow stone corridor illuminated by the flickering glow of torches.

The corridor sloped steeply downward, with a winding railway running along the ground.

Griphook whistled sharply, and before long, a cart came speeding toward them along the tracks.

"Get in, Mr. Potter." Griphook said, climbing in first.

Harry stepped into the cart and casually conjured a small protective shield—just enough to block the wind from his face while conveniently leaving Griphook exposed.

As they traveled, they passed an underground lake adorned with massive stalactites and stalagmites, some reaching all the way to the ground.

Finally, the cart came to a halt before a small door. It seemed to be enchanted, always stopping precisely at the intended vault.

"We’ve arrived, Mr. Potter." Griphook announced, jumping out of the cart with a respectful nod.

Harry stepped down and looked up at Vault 313.

To be fair, just from the appearance of the door, it was far more impressive than the entrance to the Potter family’s vault.

"A total of 2,763,215 Galleons," Griphook read from a parchment, his expression neutral. "Additionally, there are some antique treasures—heirlooms from the Austro-Hungarian imperial family a century ago. Let me see… Ah, and there are also rare alchemical materials, including even angel feathers. Truly, I wonder who the vault’s mistress is."

Mistress?

Harry thought for a moment. He vaguely recalled that Veratia had an aunt nicknamed "Sissi," who had married someone named Joseph. Apparently, he had some influence in the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

But… over two million Galleons?!

Was this the "small sum" Veratia had mentioned?

Harry was still processing the sheer amount in his mind, though his expression remained unchanged. He simply said to Griphook, "Open the door."

Griphook nodded, stepped forward, and performed a series of intricate motions on the vault door. Soon, the lock clicked open, releasing a thick green mist from within.

Once the smoke had cleared, Harry took a step forward and—

Silence.

Harry stared blankly at the completely empty vault.

Wait… something’s not right.

Where’s the money?

He searched every corner of the vault, only to find a single, pitiful bronze Knut lying in a corner.

And at the very back of the vault, a silver-white princess tiara hung on the wall.

"This is what you call over two million Galleons?!" Harry pointed at the empty vault, his blood pressure skyrocketing.

Are you bloody kidding me?

The Galleons were one thing—money came and went.

The antique treasures? Whatever, Harry didn’t care for them.

But where the hell were the angel feathers?!

Veratia had stored a whole heap of them here!

Harry refused to believe Veratia would deceive him, especially when the inventory list had clearly detailed everything inside.

Hearing Harry’s words, Griphook finally turned around.

He took a sharp breath, his face filled with terror.

"M-Mr. Potter, this is a major incident. I must… I must notify the senior management of Gringotts…"

Harry said nothing, simply watching him coldly as he pulled out a vial of Aging Potion and drank it.

"For now, please return with me. I believe…" Griphook swallowed nervously, "I believe the senior management of Gringotts will provide you with a reasonable explanation."

"You’d better." Harry snapped before stepping back into the cart.

Retracing their path, Harry soon found himself back in the grand hall of Gringotts.

The moment he stepped inside, two goblins in tailored suits blocked his path.

"Mr. Potter, the Director requests your presence." They said respectfully.

Harry lowered his gaze, glanced at them, and then pointed at the ground beneath his feet.

"Tell him to come here."

"This…" The two goblins exchanged uneasy glances.

"My vault was robbed. Everything inside has disappeared!" Harry’s voice turned icy. "I demand an explanation from Gringotts! Was this due to negligence, or was it outright theft?!"

At Harry’s words, the once-quiet hall of Gringotts erupted like a boiling cauldron.

Everyone knew that Gringotts prided itself on its unparalleled security.

In fact, that was the very foundation of its standing in the wizarding world.

Yet now, someone was openly declaring—right in the bank’s main hall—that their vault had been emptied.

Even worse, the goblin who had accompanied him to retrieve the contents was standing there with his head lowered in silent admission…

The implications for Gringotts’ staff and its clients were immense.

The goblins whispered among themselves, their sharp eyes darting toward Harry.

The witches and wizards in the hall looked equally unsettled, glancing between Harry and Griphook in growing curiosity and concern.

They were desperate to know what was going on.

The two suited goblins sighed, then turned and left the hall.

"Mr. Griphook," Harry said, his voice calm, "I believe I need a reasonable explanation."

His tone darkened. "Or, if you fail to provide one that satisfies me, I’ll have to let an old friend of mine handle this discussion instead."

"No, no, Mr. Potter." Griphook forced an awkward smile. "Please, come with me to the VIP lounge. We promise—regarding Vault 313—we will give you a satisfactory explanation."

“Hmph.” Harry snorted and followed Griphook into the VIP lounge.

Before long, two goblin attendants entered, trembling as they carried a tray of red tea and pastries.

They diligently served Harry, but their expressions were unnervingly solemn. If one looked closely, there was even a trace of fear in their eyes.

“What’s with those faces?” Harry glanced at the two goblins. “I recall that the standard for the service industry is to smile. Why aren’t you smiling? Do you just not like to smile?”

The two goblin attendants muttered inwardly—Gringotts had no such rule…

But faced with the man holding a wand stained with the blood of countless goblins, they quickly chose to comply, forcing out stiff, reluctant smiles.

Before long, there was a knock on the door. With Harry’s permission, the two sharply dressed goblins from earlier entered, one after the other.

Right behind them, a Boss-Eyed goblin walked into the room.

“Mr. Potter.” The Boss-Eyed goblin bowed respectfully to Harry. “We finally meet.”

Harry gave him a polite nod and asked, “Do I know you?”

“Apologies, Mr. Potter. We have never met, but I grew up hearing your name.”

Bodrig shivered slightly as he spoke.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am ‘Boss-Eyed’ Bodrig, leader of the Goblin Brotherhood.”

“You’re not from Gringotts?” Harry’s expression darkened.

He had assumed that the one coming to see him was a Gringotts goblin, which was why he had agreed to this meeting without question.

But right now, he was in the middle of a dispute with Gringotts—what business did this goblin have here?!

Seeing the displeasure on Harry’s face, Bodrig’s heart tensed.

He quickly put on an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Mr. Potter. I know you have pressing matters to attend to, but I still wanted to trouble you for a moment…”

After all, one does not strike a smiling face. If Bodrig had come in with arrogance, Harry would have already drawn his wand.

But Harry had always been someone who responded better to softness than to force. With Bodrig lowering himself like this, it wouldn’t be appropriate for Harry to respond with hexes over such a minor disturbance.

“My time is limited. Say what you need to say.” Harry tapped his fingers against the table.

“Well, Mr. Potter…” Bodrig carefully chose his words. “I… hmm, we have all heard of your illustrious reputation from back then. Now that you’ve returned to the magical world you were so loyal to, we goblins wish to… clarify some misunderstandings.”

“There certainly are misunderstandings to be cleared up,” Harry said casually, wiping his nails. “Back then, there were some… minor disagreements between us and the goblins, and we engaged in a full and frank exchange of opinions. But that was never my intention in the first place. However, if certain goblins once again attempt to covet ancient magic and slaughter the innocent…”

Here, Harry’s tone grew pointed. “I’ll be watching you.”

Hearing Harry’s words, Bodrig felt as if a deafening explosion had gone off in his mind.

Minor disagreements?

A full and frank exchange of opinions?!

That’s what you call minor disagreements?!

Merlin’s beard! The thousands of goblins who had followed Ranrok back then had been completely wiped out!

Bodrig still remembered how the elders had described it—those students hurled green spells the moment they saw their targets, and there was even a pair of young wizards who wielded ancient magic…

The number of goblins who had perished under this man’s wand alone was beyond counting—otherwise, why would that wand exude such a terrifying aura of menace toward goblins?!

However…

Hearing Mr. Potter’s response, Bodrig was actually quite satisfied.

As long as he wasn’t planning to escalate the issue to involve all goblins, that was already a relief.

“Thank you for your magnanimity, Mr. Potter.” Bodrig quickly placed a hand over his chest in salute. “Your kindness is a beacon to the entire wizarding world.”

“This matter aside for now, I actually have more pressing business to discuss with you goblins.”

Harry’s voice was soft, yet in the ears of the goblins present, it was as heavy as a mountain.

More pressing business?!

If suppressing a goblin rebellion was just a minor disagreement, Bodrig didn’t even dare to imagine how severe this ‘more pressing business’ might be.

“Please, speak freely, Mr. Potter.” Bodrig said respectfully. “Our Goblin Brotherhood still holds some influence within Gringotts, and we will ensure you receive a satisfactory answer.”

Harry nodded, then gestured for Griphook to come forward.

“A century ago, a friend of mine deposited a fortune in Gringotts. But when I went to retrieve it today, it had vanished.”

Harry shot Griphook a look, and the goblin stepped forward, presenting a document to Bodrig.

“I need an explanation. Where has my treasure gone?”

Bodrig took the document, and as he read it, his face twisted into an expression of utter despair.

This… could this even be called just a fortune?!

Even for Gringotts, two million Galleons was a staggering sum—not to mention the precious alchemical materials and rare antique artifacts…

He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Gringotts failed to provide an acceptable answer.

“Rest assured, Mr. Potter!” Bodrig immediately declared. “I will personally urge Gringotts to give you a satisfactory answer!”

Harry nodded, clearly pleased with Bodrig’s attitude.

Just then, the Gringotts manager came running into the room, coming to a sudden, jerky halt right in front of Harry.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Bodrig,” he blinked his beady eyes, “I have already received a report on your issue, Mr. Potter. I am now instructing our clerks to conduct a thorough investigation. We will ensure you receive a satisfactory answer!”

“Then I’ll be waiting,” Harry said, nodding in a remarkably reasonable manner.

Seeing that Harry had not caused an outright commotion in Gringotts, the manager let out a quiet sigh of relief.

If Harry had known what these goblins were thinking, he would have sneered.

After all, he had lived under Headmaster Black’s tutelage for over five years—even a stone would have absorbed some of that influence.

This was a society governed by the rule of law. No matter what, Harry would maintain his dignity.

Before long, a group of Gringotts clerks filed in, holding thick stacks of documents.

They took seats not far from Harry and began meticulously going through the records.

Harry didn’t rush them. He simply sipped his tea leisurely, waiting for the final results to emerge.

And sure enough, he didn’t have to wait long.

Half an hour later, one of the goblins suddenly stood up, waving a bundle of papers.

“Here! I’ve found it!”

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