As Professor McGonagall had predicted, Gringotts reopened quickly. On the surface, the attempted theft had caused the goblins no lasting trouble at all, and the bank's bronze doors gleamed as proudly as ever. Only the faint smell of smoke and the unusually stiff posture of the guards hinted that anything serious had happened.
"Let us open your account," Professor McGonagall said as they approached. "Every new student may have a personal vault at Gringotts, along with a corresponding key."
She explained the important points as they walked. The smaller the vault number, the older the vault, and the higher its usual level of security. Wizards could store money, documents, heirlooms, and other valuables in their vaults, and through the goblins, funds could even be transferred between Gringotts branches around the world.
"All of this, of course, is conducted under goblin supervision," Professor McGonagall added. Her tone made it clear that Gringotts was useful, powerful, and not a place where anyone should behave carelessly.
As they spoke, the streetlamps on both sides of Diagon Alley lit themselves one after another. Professor McGonagall led Roger toward the brightly illuminated bank, where goblins in scarlet-and-gold uniforms bowed to guests at the entrance. Roger looked up at the second silver door and read the warning carved into it: Enter, stranger, but take heed of what awaits the sin of greed.
The building had clearly been expanded with powerful magic. Unlike Diagon Alley outside, which was gradually quieting for the evening, Gringotts remained alive with activity. The hall rang with metal, sharp voices, and the scratch of quills moving across parchment.
Dozens of goblins sat behind tall counters, processing transactions with strict efficiency. Parchment scrolls marked by special enchantments floated through the air, drifting from desk to desk at a goblin's command. In the center of the hall, mine carts rolled toward the deeper tunnels, carrying gold, jewels, sealed boxes, and customers too nervous to sit comfortably.
"Hurry up, sir. There are other customers waiting," a goblin said, tapping an account book with one long finger.
A wizard in line shuffled forward at once. Nearby, a goblin wearing goggles examined a gemstone under a narrow beam of magical light, while another weighed gold on a set of delicate scales. Some of the metal had come from ancient tombs and still carried the faint chill of old curses, brought in by curse-breakers from far beyond Britain to be purified, melted, and eventually turned into Galleons.
"Fodar, is the transfer form finished?" one goblin called.
"Nearly," the other answered without looking up.
The whole hall was filled with the clinking of coins, the barking of goblin orders, and the rustle of documents. Together, the sounds formed a busy little symphony of wealth. Roger watched the scene with bright, thoughtful eyes, unable to stop himself from wondering what might happen if someone truly managed to slip into the vaults unseen.
Quirrell, Harry, and others had all breached Gringotts in one way or another in the original story. The goblins' security was impressive, but it was not as perfect as they liked to claim. Roger filed the thought away carefully, not because he planned anything now, but because useful truths were worth keeping.
"Roger, it is our turn," Professor McGonagall reminded him.
She gestured for him to take out his Hogwarts acceptance letter. Roger handed it over, and the goblin behind the high counter accepted it with a careful, almost suspicious air.
"Welcome, Professor McGonagall," the goblin said. "A new Hogwarts student, I see. May your vault fill sooner rather than later."
The goblin's nameplate read Gerdlock. He examined the letter thoroughly, checked the seal, and compared the details with a ledger under his hand. Once satisfied, he pushed a copy of the account agreement toward Roger.
Roger read it carefully from beginning to end. Finding no hidden traps or suspicious wording, he signed his name with the quill provided.
"Excellent handwriting," Gerdlock said after checking the signature. "Mr. Roger Williams, congratulations on opening an account at Gringotts. From this day onward, you may deposit and retrieve approved items through Gringotts branches worldwide."
He stamped the agreement with formal solemnity. Then he produced a golden key and handed it over. "This is your vault key. Keep it safe."
The number engraved on the key was 1111, meaning Roger's vault was located on the eleventh level, Vault Eleven. It was neat, memorable, and just serious enough to make him feel as though he had stepped properly into wizarding society.
"Would you like to inspect the vault?" Gerdlock asked.
"Thank you, but not today." Roger patted his pocket lightly. He had very little money left after the day's shopping, and the idea of riding deep underground to deposit a few coins felt faintly ridiculous.
"Mr. Williams, even one Knut can be placed in a vault," Gerdlock said, his ears twitching as he heard the faint sound of coins.
"Next time," Roger replied politely.
He shook his head while thinking that digital money in his previous life had been much more convenient. A proper banking app would have saved everyone carts, keys, goblin moods, and a surprising amount of drama.
After leaving Gringotts, Roger's first trip to Diagon Alley finally came to an end. He had not met Harry Potter, nor had he seen Professor Quirrell, but their shadows seemed to stretch over the entire street. Smoke, rumors, and nervous whispers had done enough to remind him that the story was already moving.
"Mr. Williams, we had an agreement," Professor McGonagall said once they stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and back toward the Muggle side of London.
"Oh, dear wand, I'll see you when school starts," Roger said with obvious reluctance.
He handed the wand over, his face full of sadness and his heart full of anxious calculation. What truly worried him was not losing the wand for a few weeks, but the old second-hand wand hidden in his backpack. If Professor McGonagall discovered it, the lecture would be dreadful.
"Do not worry," Professor McGonagall said, accepting the wand. "You will have it again once term begins."
She pressed the wand gently between her fingers, and a swirl of magic wrapped around it before it vanished into a protected storage charm at her waist. "Wands carried by underage witches and wizards are subject to Ministry regulation. If they are used in prohibited circumstances, the Ministry will be notified."
She looked down at Roger with serious eyes. "And do not cast spells in front of Muggles."
Professor McGonagall knew Roger could perform wandless magic, which made the reminder even more necessary. She was fairly certain he would master the first-year spells before September if left unsupervised. That was impressive, but also dangerous if paired with curiosity and poor judgment.
"Don't worry, Professor," Roger said quickly. "I definitely won't cause trouble."
Professor McGonagall nodded. Her impression of him after the day's shopping was complicated but warm. Roger was composed, independent, polite, and sharp-minded, though the fact that he and Jessica were still staying in a Malfoy-sponsored hospital ward worried her deeply.
Lucius Malfoy had once served Voldemort, and his ideas about blood purity had never truly softened. Professor McGonagall could only hope the Ministry compensation arrived quickly, allowing Roger and his mother to step away from the Malfoys before gratitude became obligation.
When Roger returned to St. Mungo's, Jessica smiled the moment she saw him covered in bags and packages. A faint ache of regret passed through her heart because she had not been strong enough to take him to Diagon Alley herself. Still, seeing him return like an ordinary schoolchild after an ordinary shopping trip filled her with happiness she had nearly forgotten how to feel.
"Quickly, Roger," Jessica said. "Change into your school uniform and let Mum see."
Yuumi was curled comfortably in her arms, tiny and bright-eyed, while Diana watched from her perch with quiet silver dignity. Jessica did not ask how much the owl had cost. She had seen enough pure-blood family purchases in her life to know that some questions were better saved for later.
Roger took out the school robes Madam Malkin had made and changed into them. Then he turned in front of Jessica a few times, the cloak swaying around his thin frame.
Jessica nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. "Wonderful. My son is a little wizard."
"Mum, Yuumi will keep you company while I'm at Hogwarts," Roger said softly. "And if you miss me, Diana can send me a letter."
"Yes, yes." Jessica hugged him tightly.
She wished desperately for a camera to preserve the moment. Roger's new clothes smelled of clean fabric, sunlight, and the outside world, and somehow that scent calmed her fear of the next day's hearing. Whatever happened before the Wizengamot, her son had already stepped beyond Azkaban.
The Wizengamot was formally tied to the British Ministry of Magic, but over the years it had grown increasingly independent. Ancient, solemn, and proud of its reputation for authority, it regarded itself as more than a courtroom. To many witches and wizards, it was the place where law remembered it was older than politics.
The old circular chamber lay deep beneath the busy streets of London. It had been built from dark grey stone, and when two Aurors pushed open the heavy doors, the air that swept out felt cool, ancient, and full of echoes.
"Please follow me," one Auror said.
He led Jessica and Roger toward the center of the hall. This was a special hearing, so the Wizengamot had prepared a protective witness enclosure around a slightly oversized chair rather than the harsher restraints once used for dangerous criminals. Jessica sat down carefully, holding Roger close, and helped him put on the protective mask prepared by the healers.
Roger leaned against Jessica's arm and looked around with quiet curiosity. Tiered circular benches surrounded the chamber, rising row after row beneath shimmering walls that reflected the faint candlelight. Purple-robed witches and wizards appeared one after another, taking their places while looking toward Jessica and her son with a mixture of curiosity and kindness.
.....
Can't wait to read more exciting chapters then what are you waiting for Join my p*atreon right now.
Get 60+ Premium chapters.
Link: p*atreon.com/Earthly_Writer (Remove the *)
2 Chapters for all free members.