When Lord Voldemort was alive, he feared Dumbledore would destroy his physical body, terrified that his secrets would be exposed. Even with Horcruxes, he wasn't invincible—Dumbledore surely had more than nine ways to destroy Tom Riddle.
But now that Voldemort was dead, fearing Dumbledore even in death would mean he died for nothing.
It was likely only after resurrection that Voldemort would take pains to avoid Dumbledore.
Harry, of course, had no knowledge of Horcruxes, that obscure branch of magic. His understanding of magic came solely from Hagrid's tales and the Red God's light-and-shadow magic from another world. Given the differences between worlds, Hagrid's knowledge was all he had to go on.
And Hagrid had been expelled in his third year. Only someone like Voldemort might have heard of Horcruxes by then.
Since Voldemort had not yet fused with Quirrell's body and was merely possessing him, hiding within the turban, Harry sensed two distinct magical auras.
If Voldemort had fully merged with Quirrell, he wouldn't be able to touch Harry directly. The moment they shook hands, Harry would sense something deeply wrong.
That protective charm of love, a hidden power, had always shielded Harry, triggered specifically against Voldemort.
After crossing into the world of A Song of Ice and Fire, the young and inexperienced Harry never realized he carried a protective charm. As an adult, the charm had faded away.
But upon returning to this world, reverting to childhood, the charm had reactivated.
The Harry of today was different. He could sense multiple anomalies within himself, all suppressed and melded by the King's Power in his forehead.
The most prominent were the two divine forces of ice and fire. It would take a long time to fully integrate them as his own, but beyond those divine powers, Harry could feel other foreign magical energies.
He had some guesses about this. Perhaps each time his body grew in that other world, returning to this one reset him to his original state, though his core attributes, skills, and bound equipment remained unchanged. What changed and what stayed the same would only be confirmed the next time he had a chance to cross worlds.
On the other hand, entering Diagon Alley, Harry stopped dwelling on Quirrell.
The other world was called A Song of Ice and Fire, likely named by the system for a specific reason.
But to Harry, that world felt more like A Song of Slaughter and Schemes.
Much like Dumbledore's influence on Tom Riddle, A Song of Ice and Fire and the system had profoundly shaped Harry.
Having been involved in major events in that world, Harry had grasped a fragment of the world's truth.
No matter the situation or conspiracy, there was no need to fear. Crush it with overwhelming, unyielding force.
Was the title of "King of Might" earned in vain?
When facing a malicious enemy, analyze their trump cards, seize the right moment, and kill them outright.
Overthinking was pointless. Instead of pondering why people opposed him, Harry found it simpler to eliminate them. Some would never change—only death, or the brutal dance of slaughter and schemes, could alter them. This was Harry's hard-won wisdom.
He had seen plenty of people weaving elaborate conspiracies, believing they could hide and outlast everyone to emerge victorious.
In his brief life in that other world, Harry learned one thing: the more cunning humans are, the more likely they are to fall into unpredictable traps, their efforts reduced to nothing.
Even if they fooled others, they couldn't deceive the "Legendary Hero" with his beastly instincts.
The final judgment for evildoers was "Lightbringer, Slayer of Darkness, Harry the Mighty King." The fear on their faces before death often paled compared to that of ordinary fools.
Passing by a dizzying array of peculiar shops, the two arrived at Gringotts.
Before a towering snow-white building that loomed over the surrounding shops, a figure in a scarlet-and-gold uniform stood by the gleaming bronze doors—a goblin.
As they entered, the goblin bowed to them.
A second set of silver doors appeared, engraved with a poem warning thieves.
"Like I said, you'd have to be mad to rob this bank," Hagrid remarked.
Harry nodded, though only to humor him. He didn't truly believe robbing a bank equated to madness. "The poem's well-written, but warning thieves at the bank's entrance feels a bit petty."
Two goblins bowed and ushered them into a grand marble hall.
Around a hundred goblins sat on high stools behind a long counter, some weighing coins on brass scales, others inspecting gemstones with eyeglasses, scribbling in large ledgers.
Countless doors lined the hall, leading to various places, with goblins guiding people in and out.
"Morning," Hagrid said to an idle goblin. "We're here to withdraw some money from Mr. Harry Potter's vault."
"Do you have his key, sir?"
"Right here." Hagrid emptied his pockets onto the counter.
Harry's inheritance had always been managed by Dumbledore, including the Potter family's heirlooms.
Before setting out, Dumbledore had given the key to Hagrid to pass to Harry.
Given what Hagrid said about Dumbledore's character, and his status and wealth as the leader of the wizarding world, Harry didn't suspect him of coveting the Potter fortune.
He had already asked about it. The Potter family had been wealthy in his grandfather's time, with a legacy in potion-making and some renown.
His grandfather's generation had a potent shampoo formula and ran a company, making them emerging capitalists, though they'd sold their shares long ago. They had been well-off, but nowhere near the level of great noble families.
James had no knack for earning money and squandered much of it.
Both he and Lily were unemployed—or rather, full-time wizards.
With five Galleons to their name, they devoted themselves to opposing Voldemort.
They had a friend—Sirius, though Hagrid omitted the name. Disowned by his family, Sirius had never worked, living with the Potters. All three were jobless, sustained by inheritance.
The wealthiest era was his grandfather's, when the Potters had some prestige but not vast wealth. They were an ordinary wizarding family. While some made fortunes selling potions, the Potters broke even at best.
His great-grandfather's generation had been excluded from the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" for criticizing the Ministry and advocating for Muggle rights, compounded by their history of supporting Muggle causes and occasional Muggle marriages.
Harry didn't care to associate with the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Bloodlines were glorified by power, not the other way around.
Leadership and command were forms of power. A family strong enough to rule unshakably, ensuring peace and prosperity, would naturally earn eternal glory.
When he became a king or god in the future, local magical families had better not try to cozy up to him.
As for money, what remained in Harry's hands was enough for his needs.
It would cover school and supplies without needing to skimp, but building a warband was far beyond his means. That's why Harry was determined to dig up his first pot of gold.
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