Chapter 5: I Thought It Was Harry Potter

Even after a century, the Leaky Cauldron remained as dirty and cramped as Harry remembered. As they pushed open the door, a strong smell of alcohol hit them, mixed with the stench of secondhand smoke. The patrons seemed to recognize Hagrid immediately. Upon seeing his towering figure, several customers at the bar raised their glasses and loudly welcomed him. "The usual, Hagrid?" asked Tom, the bartender behind the counter. "Oh, not today, Tom. I've got important business," Hagrid replied, patting Harry's thin shoulder with his large hand. "I'm taking Harry to Diagon Alley." At the mention of Harry's name, the noisy bar fell silent in an instant. All eyes turned toward Hagrid—more specifically, to the small boy standing by his side. "My goodness, is it really you?" Tom exclaimed, dropping the glass he had been cleaning onto the floor with a clatter. Rushing out from behind the counter, Tom approached Harry, grabbing his hand with tears in his eyes. "Harry Potter, what an honor—welcome, welcome back!" Harry felt both surprised and overwhelmed. Could it be that people even a century later still remembered his exploits—defeating the Ash Serpent faction and quelling the goblin rebellion? If they could recognize him, did that mean— He had no idea what to say as the crowd pressed in, each eager to shake his hand. "It's such an honor, Mr. Potter, truly an honor." "I've always hoped to meet you—my heart is pounding so hard!" After the wizards expressed their admiration, Hagrid finally pulled Harry away, saying, "Sorry, folks, but I need to take Harry to Diagon Alley for some shopping." He managed to extricate Harry from the throng. "See? I told you, you're famous," Hagrid said with a smile. S~eaʀᴄh the novёlF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Harry gave him a faint smile in return, asking quietly, "Why are they acting like this?" "Why?" Hagrid said dramatically, clapping Harry on the back. "You defeated the most fearsome dark wizard of the century! You deserve every bit of respect!" Ah, so that’s it… Harry nodded in understanding, feeling a wave of relief. It was a good thing they hadn’t recognized him as the Harry Potter from a hundred years ago. Time was a forbidden concept; the ability to travel through it and return to one’s youth was enough to drive anyone mad. What’s more, "that Harry" was one of the heirs to ancient magic, something well-known in the wizarding world of the past. Dark wizards coveting ancient magic had once ambushed him openly during his student transfer. Harry doubted the dark wizards of this era were any more merciful. Now that he had returned to being eleven, his magical strength had regressed accordingly. Facing ordinary dark wizards might be manageable, but if someone like Ranrock appeared, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Thus, this secret was best kept hidden. Harry made up his mind silently. Meanwhile, Hagrid was giving instructions beside him. "Count three bricks up—then two bricks across—alright, step back, Harry…" Noticing Harry still seemed lost in thought, Hagrid chuckled, thinking he was upset about the earlier crowd. "Harry, did you hear me?" "Oh," Harry snapped back to reality. Seeing they had reached the wall behind the Leaky Cauldron, he took Hagrid’s umbrella, counted carefully, and tapped three times on a brick with the tip. The brick he tapped began to shake and shift, revealing a small hole in the center that gradually widened. Before long, a large archway appeared, wide enough for even Hagrid to pass through. It opened onto a winding cobblestone street that stretched endlessly ahead. "Not bad at all, Harry," Hagrid said cheerfully. "Welcome to Diagon Alley." Harry returned the umbrella to Hagrid, hesitating as he asked, "Um, Hagrid, I don’t have any money…" "Ah, no need to worry about that. You don’t think your parents left you with nothing, do you?" Hagrid explained. "Come on, if you’re concerned, we’ll go to Gringotts first to withdraw some gold." Gringotts looked the same as ever, unchanged by time. Its entrance faced Diagon Alley, with white stone steps leading to two gleaming bronze doors. A goblin dressed in scarlet and gold stood by the door, bowing as Harry and Hagrid entered. Beyond the first set of doors was an entrance hall, followed by a second set of silver doors. Harry noticed words engraved on the silver: "Enter, stranger, but take heed, Of what awaits the sin of greed. For those who take but do not earn, Must pay most dearly in return. So if you seek beneath our floors, A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware, Of finding more than treasure there." "As I said, anyone who tries to rob this bank is mad," Hagrid remarked. The two walked to a counter in the main hall, where Hagrid addressed a goblin not currently occupied. "Morning," Hagrid said. "We’d like to withdraw some gold from Harry Potter’s vault…" Before he could finish, the goblin let out a sharp, piercing screech. "Who?! Did you say who?!" All the goblins nearby stopped their work, turning toward the goblin that had screeched. Hagrid, unfazed by the reaction, continued, "Harry Potter." "Harry Potter?! I know it’s Harry Potter! But which Harry Potter?!" the goblin demanded shrilly. The main hall of Gringotts hummed with energy as goblins began whispering to one another, clearly excited. "Which Potter could it be?" Hagrid replied, sounding impatient. "Of course, it’s the Harry Potter, the one who defeated You-Know-Who. He’s about to start school, and I’ve brought him to withdraw money from his family’s vault." Hearing this, the goblin visibly relaxed. "Ah, Harry Potter. For a moment, I thought you meant that Harry Potter(1800s)." The goblin straightened up, his demeanor once again professional. "Do you have the vault key?"