Almost too quickly, they arrived at Harry's trust vault, the first of the vaults they would be visiting. Griphook swiftly hopped off the cart and unlocked the door with Harry's key. After quickly filling a purse Hagrid had lent him with a sufficient amount of coinage, they were soon on the move again to vault 713.
As they arrived outside, Griphook asked them both to remain back as he unlocked the heavy metal door, with the gentle stroke of a finger. A series of clunks and thuds echoed in the tunnel as the door slowly opened, revealing a small, grubby bundle of rags that Harry knew contained the Philosophers Stone.
As he silently watched Hagrid lean into the vault and remove the cloth package, Harry wondered whether he should attempt to take it before it was taken to Hogwarts. All it would take is a quick switching spell, replacing it with a copy, which was well within his capabilities.
The risks of attempting to do so were great, however, particularly if he failed. And even if he did succeed, when Hagrid took the fake to Hogwarts, Dumbledore would quickly ascertain its true nature. This would lead to questions being asked and attention being drawn to him that he would rather avoid.
In the end, Harry decided to leave the Philosophers Stone alone. It simply wasn't worth the risk to retrieve at this moment. Besides, if things were allowed to turn out as they had before, he would have the opportunity to take the stone later in the school year.
With their business in the bank concluded, Harry and Hagrid rode the cart back to the surface and exited to Diagon Alley. All in all, Harry thought his time spent in Gringotts had been exceptionally productive and profitable. He had done much more than he had hoped, and he knew Hermione would be pleased.
Now, however, was time to push those thoughts aside and prepare for the greatest trial of all...shopping.
As the duo left the bank to begin looking for Harry's school supplies, Hagrid periodically cast furtive glances over at his charge. Harry had been in a meeting with Director Ragnok for about two hours before emerging, and he couldn't help but think he had missed something important.
The boy seemed different somehow, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly what had changed. Harry seemed almost taller, as if he had grown an inch or so. That he had grown taller in a few hours was unlikely, though, so it had to be something else. Hagrid was certain that Harry had definitely changed. Fortunately for Harry, Hagrid did not notice the addition of three rings on his fingers, and so remained ignorant of a development that Albus Dumbledore would have very much wanted to know.
With a final puzzled look at the child, Hagrid shook off his suspicions and refocused himself on the task at hand. The lengthy travel into London, and the hold-up at Gringotts had cost them time, and they needed to finish purchasing all of Harry's supplies. It also didn't help matters that he was still suffering from the after effects of the Bank's transportation system.
If there was one thing Hagrid disliked about the goblins, it was the mine carts they used to access the vaults. It was akin to being strapped onto the back of a rampant hippogriff. It could go up, it could go down, it could go from side to side, and all at high speed. This all served to make him feel as sick as a dog, and terribly upset his stomach. Unfortunately, however, if you wanted to access your money in the bank, you had to use the carts.
Normally, after visiting the Bank, Hagrid would head to the Leaky Cauldron for a mug of mead to settle his stomach. Once he had a warming glass of that honey delight, he would feel much better. However, with his young charge and the pressing need to purchase his supplies, he simply could not indulge in his usual libation.
'I wish I could have a drink,' Hagrid thought miserably, letting out a sigh of discomfort. This sigh, almost a whimper, drew the attention of his companion.
"Hagrid," Harry called, upon seeing the look on his face, "are you ok? You don't look very well..."
In actuality, Harry knew full well what was wrong with the half-giant. He had known Hagrid for many years, after all, and he knew that the goblin mine carts gave him what must have been severe motion sickness. While he felt a bit guilty exploiting his friend, Harry could use this to ditch Hagrid and shop privately.
"S'alrite Harry," Hagrid replied with a weak smile, "jus' a bit dizzy, that's all." His smile turned to a grimace by the time he finished speaking, as he felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Harry smiled sympathetically.
"Yeah, those mine carts were a bit much, weren't they?" Harry asked, receiving a nod in agreement from the miserable half-giant. "You know, if you wanted to, you could go to the Leaky Cauldron for a bit? It would give you the chance to sit down and rest until you felt better..." Hagrid frowned and shook his head.
"I can't leave yer on yer own, Harry," Hagrid disagreed, "I'm meant to take yer round to get yer supplies, to keep yer safe." Harry smiled fondly at the half-giant.
"I'll be fine, Hagrid," Harry argued exasperatedly, "I'll be going from shop to shop, getting the things I need. They are all clearly marked so I shouldn't get lost, and if I need you I will head back to the Cauldron to find you."
Hagrid stopped and considered this for a moment. Diagon Alley was one of the safest places in magical Britain, and it was common for older children to be allowed to wander the Alley on their own. Harry was right, all the shops were marked and he had his list of supplies. If he was unsure, he could always come and find him, as he had said.
Of course, Dumbledore had also told him not to leave Harry's side while purchasing his supplies. Then again, he had already broken that order when the boy and the goblin director had a private meeting, hadn't he? Well, what Dumbledore didn't know, wouldn't hurt him, so he smiled down at Harry and nodded.
"Alrigh' Harry," Hagrid agreed, "I'll let yer off on yer own fer a bit. Jus' make sure yer don't wander off, jus' go into the shops you need to." Harry nodded in agreement.
"Ok, no problem!" Harry said enthusiastically. Hagrid nodded and went to turn away, before having a sudden afterthought.
"Oh yeah," he exclaimed, "an' don't go ter Knockturn Alley!" He gestured to a dark and dingy side street, past the bank. "It's dangerous. Load o' bad wizards down there..." Harry nodded seriously.
"Understood," the young wizard replied. Hagrid nodded, satisfied.
"Right then," the half-giant said, "I'll catch up with yer in a bit!"
Harry gave Hagrid a final nod, and beamed up at him. Hagrid couldn't help but smile back at the boy. That was a face you couldn't say no to easily. Said boy watched as the man wandered over to the Leaky Cauldron for his mead, before pulling his acceptance letter from his pocket and looking through the supplies list.
"Right then," Harry murmured to himself, "where to first?"
After a moment of thought, Harry decided he would purchase his robes first, and get the least enjoyable aspect of his shopping out of the way first. After a cursory look around the street, he caught sight of the tailors shop Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. A small, fond smile crossed his face, and he entered in short order.
As he pulled open the door and stepped inside, with the tell-tale tinkle of a bell, his nostalgic thoughts were quickly soured. There, stood upon a small wooden stool in the middle of the room, was a familiar blond haired boy. With a grimace, Harry suddenly remembered that this was his first meeting with Draco Malfoy, a boy that had become his bitter rival and a perennial thorn in his side the first time around.
Though his mind was filled with acrimonious memories, and a surge of hate washed over him, Harry quickly chastised himself. At this moment in time, they had not yet met and formed opinions of the other. This presented an opportunity. The boy was not yet his rival, and perhaps, if he was careful, might never be.
While he waited for the shop owner to come and see who had entered her shop, Harry pondered how he should handle the situation. He remembered how the discussion had gone last time, the condescendingly superior responses of the young pureblood having etched the first impression into his mind. He was like that with everyone he considered beneath him.
'But,' Harry thought suddenly, a feeling of mirth rising within him, 'what if he was faced with someone superiorto him?' A small grin broke out on his face, as his course of action was set.
At that moment, the namesake owner of the shop, Madam Malkin herself, emerged from behind a curtain leading deeper into the shop. The squat, bespectacled witch offered him a bright, friendly smile as she took note of her new customer.
"Hogwarts, dear?" Harry nodded and she beamed. "Got the lot here – another young man is being fitted up just now, in fact."
Madam Malkin walked over to one of several clothing rails that ran around the walls of the room, and began flicking through the clothing hangers. While she looked for robes for Harry, said wizard realised that this would be a good opportunity to throw Malfoy off balance and start shaping his first impression of him. As the witch found her quarry and brought over a set of standard Hogwarts school robes, Harry spoke up.
"Thank you, madam," Harry said, as she showed him the robes, "but would you also mind showing me the types of robes suitable for the Lord of a Most Noble and Ancient House?"
The witch was taken aback by the question, while Malfoy's head snapped around to stare at Harry, wide eyed. Harry smiled inwardly. The bait had been set. Madam Malkin, meanwhile, quickly recovered from her shock and nodded in reply, though she looked unsure.
"Yes, I certainly can," the witch responded warily, "but if I may ask, do you have proof of your lordship? You see, I can't sell my specialised robes to everyone..." Harry smiled at her politely and nodded.
"Certainly, not a problem," Harry replied, before lifting his hand and revealing the three house rings that adorned his fingers.
As Madam Malkin glanced down at the rings, her eyes widened and she gasped in surprise as she recognised the well known crests on two of the rings. Malfoy, meanwhile, looked like he was about to faint, as he too realised to whom the lion and eagle sigils belonged.
"Oh," the witch exclaimed, "forgive me, my lord, I had no idea..." Harry smiled at her reassuringly, and cut off any further apology.
"Please don't apologise," he replied courteously, "you couldn't have known. It's not a problem, madam." Madam Malkin smiled tremulously, before bustling off back through the curtain into the back room, leaving Harry with Malfoy.
"Are you really a Lord?" The blond haired boy asked, awe filling his voice.
While Draco Malfoy had met many Lords of Noble and Ancient family lines and their young heirs, he had never met a Lord who had taken on the mantle so young. The wheels in his mind started turning, and he saw the immense opportunity.