Diagon Alley, Gringotts, Underground Vault 687.
The Potter family's bank vault.
The small cart came to a halt.
Everyone got off, and Griphook used the golden key to open the vault door.
A dazzling light spilled out, revealing mountains of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Harry's eyes widened, and he froze in place.
The Potter family had made their fortune through potions and medical innovations. Modern remedies like Skele-Gro and Pepperup Potion were said to have originated from the Potters.
Harry's grandfather had even created a miraculous hair-care potion, founding a company and earning a fortune through patents. After selling the company, the Potter family's wealth had reached its peak.
Their financial acumen and small family size had created the spectacular scene Harry now beheld.
"Take some, Harry!" Hagrid, who had been dry-heaving after getting off the cart, reminded him. "The Potter family's wealth is enough to keep you comfortable in the wizarding world."
But Harry didn't immediately reach for the money. Instead, he turned to Dudley. "Cousin, you..."
"What about me? Did you think I'd be polite about it, Harry?! No matter how much money you have, you're still my cousin!"
Dudley unceremoniously reached into the vault, grabbing handfuls of Galleons and stuffing his pockets until they were full.
When he was done, he added, "Hurry up, Harry! Grab some for yourself too. It's a hassle coming all the way to Gringotts!"
"Huh? Oh! Right, cousin!"
Harry complied, not the least bit bothered by Dudley taking money from his family vault. Instead, he followed Dudley's lead, quickly scooping up several handfuls of coins and stuffing them into his own pockets.
"What a wonderful brotherly bond!" Hagrid's eyes welled up with tears. "I wish I had a brother too."
"Hagrid, don't make a fuss. You'll find one. Now get back on the cart. Once we finish your task, Harry and I have shopping to do!"
Dudley, playing the impatient role, acted as if he couldn't care less about what Hagrid had come to retrieve.
"Oh! Right, right!"
Hagrid ignored Dudley's mention of a "brother," thinking it was just a joke to comfort him. He clumsily climbed back onto the cart.
Griphook locked Vault 687 and handed the golden key to Harry.
Then, everyone resumed their previous positions, and the cart set off again, heading deeper into the vaults.
The distance between Vault 687 and Vault 713 wasn't far.
Soon, they arrived at their destination.
The security on Vault 713's door was far more advanced than Vault 687's.
Because the key to this vault was a goblin's finger.
"No one can steal from Gringotts' underground vaults!"
Griphook's wrinkled face showed unusual confidence. "If anyone other than a goblin touches this door, they'll be sucked in and trapped!
And generally, unless someone comes to retrieve something, we only inspect this vault once every ten years. Hehehe..."
As Griphook's sharp right index finger slid into the keyhole, the vault door slowly dissolved into black smoke, revealing the small space inside.
Since this vault held a small item, the interior wasn't expanded much.
Hagrid, unusually serious, stepped off the cart and quickly walked to the vault, reaching inside.
From the side, Dudley caught a glimpse of the item inside—a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine, almost identical to the decoy he had prepared!
[The Philosopher's Stone, wrapped in brown paper (S-rank)]
The system provided the identification at just the right moment. As Hagrid carefully picked up the package and tucked it into his inner pocket, even Dudley couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.
The heavens were on his side—things were going smoothly!
"Ah—"
At this critical moment, Harry, standing beside Dudley, clutched his forehead and let out a small gasp of pain.
"Cousin, my scar suddenly hurts..."
Seeing Dudley's questioning look, Harry honestly shared his discomfort.
Dudley's expression shifted slightly. He quickly grabbed Harry's hand and traced a letter on his palm.
Harry immediately became alert. Despite all the boasting Hagrid and the goblin had done about Gringotts' security, nothing was as trustworthy as Dudley's silent signal.
"Let's go! What's wrong, Ha..."
As Hagrid turned around after retrieving the Philosopher's Stone, he noticed Harry's furrowed brow and serious expression in the dim torchlight.
But before Hagrid could finish his sentence, Dudley interrupted with a loud laugh.
"Hahaha... Hagrid! You've got sandwich crumbs in your beard!"
Dudley teased, pulling Harry closer to Hagrid.
"Oh, really? Hahaha..." Hagrid, ever good-natured, didn't pick up on the deeper meaning behind Dudley's words. He began patting his beard.
Dudley had anticipated this. Once close to Hagrid, he quickly whispered, "Hagrid, there's a dark wizard nearby. Be careful!"
"What..." Hagrid immediately stopped talking, his eyes widening in surprise. He quickly scanned the area.
Seizing the moment while Hagrid was distracted, Dudley used his most skilled move. With a small jump, his right hand, holding the fake ruby package he'd taken from his coat, darted out like a snake striking its prey—fast as a blur.
"Stupefy!"
Suddenly, a red flash of light shot from the darkness. Hagrid, now on alert, grabbed Harry and Dudley, shielding them with his broad back.
The powerful Stunning Spell hit Hagrid's back, making him yawn and shake his head before quickly recovering. He then pulled out his umbrella-wand and fired a white light toward the source of the spell.
Hagrid didn't chant—it was a silent Transfiguration spell.
"Idiot! That oaf has giant blood! He's resistant to spells! Use something that affects the environment!"
From the darkness, Quirinus Quirrell, wrapped in a turban, robes, and a black mask, reeking of garlic, meekly accepted the scolding from the Dark Lord on the back of his head. At the same time, he cast a silent Shield Charm to block Hagrid's spell.
"Bombarda! Confringo!"
Taking Voldemort's advice, Quirrell immediately cast powerful explosive spells toward Hagrid and the others.
Yellowish light shot from his Alder wand, and deafening explosions echoed through the vast underground vault.
Countless stalactites fell from above, and the ground shook as if a small earthquake had struck.
"Idiot!"
Voldemort, residing on the back of Quirrell's head, was seething with rage.
"Go check! If the Philosopher's Stone is destroyed, I'll kill you!"