This chapter is a bit exaggerated, but it's just to use a comic reference. He won't use it again, in case you're wondering. Now, I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Gringotts
After finishing work, Wanda headed straight to the school to pick up Harry.
That day, they had a special destination: Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Harry had wanted to go for a while, but Wanda had forbidden it several times. She didn't trust goblins. They were unfriendly, cold, ill-tempered… and with a history that nearly bordered on war against wizards.
But Harry insisted so much, with that mix of curiosity and determination so typical of him, that Wanda finally gave in. She promised to take him. Just once.
"When you said they'd be small, I expected something more extreme… but they seem pretty normal to me," Harry commented, watching the goblins walking past them.
Wanda smiled wryly. Of course he saw them as "normal"… Harry barely reached one meter fifteen. But if an adult has the height of a six-year-old child, that's not normal"here or anywhere else.
They entered the imposing underground bank and approached one of the main desks. The desk was disproportionately tall, as if the goblin behind it needed to remind everyone that he was above them"literally and symbolically.
"What do you want?" the goblin growled without lifting his gaze, his voice laced with sharp, dry contempt.
"I want to open an account for Harry," Wanda replied coldly, crossing her arms. Her expression made her thoughts clear: it was absurd that a race that once tried to subjugate wizards now handled their gold.
The goblin finally looked up. His disdainful gaze locked onto Harry… and froze when he saw the scar.
"He already has an account," he said, then turned back to his parchments as if they were more important than them.
"I have an account?" Harry asked, confused.
The goblin sighed in annoyance, rang a silver bell, and without further explanation, a second goblin emerged from a back door.
"The boy doesn't know he has an account. Verify it," the goblin ordered, waving his hand to shoo them away like flies.
"Right this way, wizards," said the second goblin with forced courtesy.
Wanda and Harry walked away without looking back.
But just as the first goblin was about to assist the next customer, something changed.
His face, once so stone-like, took on an expression of confusion.
His lips began to seal shut as if welded by an invisible force. Then his ears vanished, blending into his skin. And finally, his eyes closed completely, leaving only smooth skin where vision once was.
He stood up abruptly, stumbling, waving his hands, gasping silently"as if the air itself was being torn from his lungs.
"He's suffocating!" shouted one of the goblins rushing to help.
Without hesitation, another goblin grabbed a letter opener and made a precise surgical cut where his mouth had been, creating an opening so he could breathe.
"Who did this!?" roared one of them, drawing his sword as his eyes scanned the room for the spellcaster.
But he saw no one. No wands raised. No magical trace.
Only the echo of distant footsteps.
Wanda and Harry kept walking down the corridor, unaware"or pretending to be"of the chaos they'd left behind.
...….
"Do you have your key?" asked the goblin, looking at Harry without any emotion.
Harry shook his head, still confused by the whole situation.
"You don't have it? Then, if you wish to make a new one, it will cost ten Galleons," the goblin said without blinking.
"Yes…" Harry replied softly, more out of curiosity than certainty. Something inside him needed to know what was in that vault.
"Then, a drop of blood," added the goblin, pulling out a short, sharp knife and placing it in front of him.
Harry took the knife hesitantly, then looked up at Wanda, searching for a sign, some guidance.
"Wait," Wanda whispered gently, placing two fingers over Harry's hand.
A tiny drop of blood emerged from the boy's finger, floating magically in the air, shining like a ruby under the torchlight.
The goblin watched it with a strange gleam in his eyes, then pulled out a special parchment and touched it to the drop. The blood was immediately absorbed, and silver fire-letters in goblin language began to dance across the paper.
Wanda and Harry tried to look, but the goblin read it before they could get closer. For an instant, his eyes sparkled with restrained greed. He walked over to a small table with a brazier of bluish flames and tossed the parchment in. The paper was consumed in seconds, and from the fire emerged a golden key, floating with eerie elegance.
The goblin took it without hesitation and handed it to Harry.
"Here it is. Do you wish to go to your vault now?"
"Yes," Harry answered, this time with more resolve. Something inside him was beating strongly.
Wanda said nothing, just followed him with a soft smile. Seeing Harry like this… excited, full of life… it was something she loved seeing in her little boy.
The cart ride was fast, wild, and noisy. A rollercoaster of stone and metal that snaked through the depths of Gringotts. And when it finally stopped in front of a large iron door with the Potter crest engraved on it, the goblin inserted the key.
With an ancient creak, the door opened.
Harry entered first… and froze.
Piles of gold gleamed under the magical light. Coins stacked like towers, forgotten jewels, and objects covered by velvet cloths. But what caught his attention most was a corner"discreet but tidy"where there were books, boxes… and several photo albums.
Without thinking, he ran toward the albums, ignoring everything else.
Wanda entered behind him, stunned by the amount of gold.
"This must be his inheritance…" she whispered to herself, looking around with respect. Then she approached the books. They were old, with worn covers but carefully preserved. She opened them with curiosity.
Spells, yes, but… most were alchemy treatises. Advanced, some impossible to decipher without magical keys. That branch wasn't her strength. And she knew that truly powerful recipes were protected by blood and flesh seals. The common ones were taught at Hogwarts, but the good ones… the good ones were family treasures.
She looked up and turned her gaze to Harry, who was flipping through one of the albums with wide eyes. He was mesmerized.
In the photo, a man with messy hair and round glasses smiled mischievously while holding a baby. Beside him, a red-haired woman with a kind face and sweet gaze gently stroked the child's head with infinite tenderness.
"She's beautiful… isn't she?" Harry murmured, not taking his eyes off the image, a lump in his throat.
Wanda knelt beside him, smiling softly.
"Yes… she is. Now I understand why she chose me to look after you," she added playfully, brushing her own reddish hair.
Harry let out a small laugh, though his voice still trembled.
"And him… he looks like a playboy," he joked, pointing at his father. He vaguely remembered something Hermione had once said and couldn't help but smile.
"He looks like someone who never got a proper beating," Wanda replied, chuckling quietly. Then her expression grew serious. "But the way they both look at you… with such deep love… I have no doubt. They were amazing parents."
Harry nodded, eyes shining with pride and nostalgia.
"I'm sure they were."
He remained there in silence, flipping through page after page. The images moved, laughed, waved. Stolen moments from the past, like a caress he had never received.
With tact, Wanda stood up and left him alone. She wandered among the objects without much interest, until something caught her attention.
A desk. Old. With an intact seal of the Potter House… but something felt off.
The seal was fresh, as if recently used. And on the desk, there was a shape… a sort of empty space. As if something important was missing.
She frowned. Harry's parents had died over five years ago. Why did something here seem so… recent?
Wanda raised her hand softly over the desk, and a scarlet mist spread out as if the very air had turned tangible. The red aura crackled with a nearly living intensity, slowly and elegantly revealing what had been hidden: ancient documents, scrolls with magical seals, and among them, several papers glowing with a faint golden light.
From the doorway, the goblin who had been watching the gold with greed frowned as he saw what Wanda had unveiled. His eyes widened in terror when he clearly read one of the documents: Deed of Ownership.
"Miss witch! You mustn't touch that!" he shouted, running toward Wanda, nearly tripping over himself. "That is… property of Gringotts!"
Wanda remained unfazed. She held the documents with elegance and seriousness, her gaze piercing the goblin like a spear.
"Since when does Gringotts own property titles it never purchased?" she asked, her voice calm but as sharp as an enchanted blade.
Harry, hearing this, approached quickly, confused and alert.
"No! T-those documents… Gringotts vaults have maintenance fees! If wizards don't pay, the bank has the right to recover value with what's inside," the goblin stammered, visibly nervous.
"How much does it cost to maintain a vault?" Wanda asked, one eyebrow raised, her tone still soft but heavy with tension.
"E-eh… Mr. Potter's vault costs a hundred galleons a year…" the goblin said, his trembling hand searching for something inside his tunic. Wanda noticed immediately. It was a magical emergency transmitter.
Her eyes flared with a deep red glow.
"You've charged five hundred galleons to an orphan who didn't even know about his inheritance… and in exchange, you've taken land worth thousands… Are you telling me that all of Ottery St. Catchpole, in Devon, England… is worth five hundred galleons?"
The goblin swallowed hard as sweat dripped down his face.
Suddenly, a group of goblins entered the vault, armed, dressed in black combat robes and wielding magical spears. One of them, taller and adorned with golden ornaments, raised his voice arrogantly:
"What is going on here? Who dares cause trouble in Gringotts? Do you seek death?"
"Sir!" the first goblin cried out. "The witch"she's claiming property titles!"
The leader looked at her with contempt, then at the boy.
"If you don't pay the fees, the bank keeps whatever it wants. It's in the contract. Now, go count your gold or leave before I order your permanent expulsion. We'll seize everything."
Then Wanda spoke.
Her voice was soft… but the world seemed to stop.
"Let the goblins… cease to exist."
A wave of scarlet magic swept through the vault like a silent bolt of lightning. The goblins looked at their bodies… and panicked. Their feet began to fade into red particles, floating like stardust, disintegrating from the base up.
The leader felt a searing heat in his chest: an ancient object he carried began to vibrate and emit a high-pitched hum. It was a magical alarm… one that resonated through all the bank's branches. It only activated in the face of total extinction threats. It hadn't sounded since the last great magical war… and they had lost.
"Fo-ever…" Wanda began, slowly pronouncing the word with terrible weight.
The leader realized half his body no longer existed. His soul trembled. The echo of destruction was inevitable if she finished that word.
"WAIT!!" the goblin screamed, his face twisted with fear. "Please, wait! I beg you!"
Wanda stared in silence, power floating around her like a mantle of the gods. The very atmosphere trembled with each of her breaths.
"We'll return everything… everything… even more. Galleons. Weapons… please, just… just let us exist!" the leader pleaded, now reduced to only a floating head amid flickers of magic.
Wanda sighed and said gently:
"Then… you may exist."
In the blink of an eye, time seemed to reverse. The goblins' bodies reconstructed in an impossible magical dance, as if they had never been touched. All of them fell to their knees, trembling, tears of terror in their eyes. The leader, drenched in sweat, barely raised his head to look at her with reverent horror.
"Return everything you stole…" Wanda said, her voice like thunder echoing through their bones, "or a race as ancient as yours… will vanish from this world. And no one… will remember it."
"Yes… yes… I'm sorry! You'll have it all. Galleons! Properties! Even enchanted weapons! Everything!" the leader screeched before stumbling to his feet and running as if death itself pursued him.
Harry remained silent for a few seconds, then muttered:
"What was that? Were you going to… erase them?"
Wanda gently stroked his hair, like a mother soothing her child after a nightmare.
"No. I don't do that anymore. I just… wanted to scare them a little," she smiled, soft and powerful. "Looks like our Harry… is quite the landowner," she added, easily changing the subject.