While he was annoyed at Fudge for not owning up to the fact that it was his assistant who framed him for murder, Harry was fairly certain it was at Arthur Weasley's request and not out of any desire to make himself look innocent. He was reasonably certain the foolish man didn't want his wife finding out her son was a Deatheater from the pages of the Daily Prophet. Personally he couldn't see why she shouldn't find out that way since she, like the rest of her traitorous family, had been so willing to believe him capable of murder and not even being willing to listen to his side of the story. Mrs. Weasley should feel the same pain she gave him, by not even listening to what he had to say. He had thought of the Weasleys as the family he had never had, until they all turned on him. How could they think him capable of murder? How could they think he would kill one of his friends?
Harry shook his head, trying to rid it of these thoughts. Dwelling on the past did him no good, especially now . He was here to start on the path to his future. Folding up the paper, Harry pushed his way through the crowd to the empty courtyard in back. He stared at the bricks in the wall, mentally tapping the right bricks.
A moment later the archway into Diagon Alley appeared.
Harry stared at the crowded Alley in amazement. There had to be as many people here as had been at the World Cup in the summer before his fourth year. Sighing resignedly, Harry stepped through the archway and began pushing his way through the huge mass of people.
When he finally made it through the huge crowd, Harry was relieved to find the area around the steps and front door of Gringotts clear of any revellers. Grateful for that Harry nodded to the goblin that held the door open for him.
Inside it was fairly quiet but surprisingly enough there were several wizards in the bank conducting business. Not wanting to alert the wizards to his identity, Harry walked up to one of the goblins seated behind a desk and said, "I would like to speak with an account manager regarding my account."
"And which account might that be?" The goblin asked sounding disinterested.
Handing over a folded slip of paper, Harry said, "I would like this matter to remain confidential."
After taking a look at what was written on the paper the goblin gaped at him like a stunned shark. He quickly recovered and requested, "Give me a moment to fetch a manager."
He returned a few minutes later, accompanied by an elegantly dressed older goblin.
"If you'll follow me, sir." Harry was surprised by the slight hint of respect he could hear in the new goblin's voice.
The goblin led him to an impressive looking office.
Once the door was closed, the goblin gestured to the comfortable chair on the other side of the desk and requested, "Would please drop the glamour, Mr. Potter? I need to be certain of who I am speaking to."
Seeing no reason not to, Harry dropped the disguise.
The goblin gave a quick glance to the scar on his forehead before saying, "While I may not be the first, I want to thank you for ridding both our races of the Dark Lord."
"Actually you are the first," Harry couldn't resist commenting. Certainly no one who had been at Azkaban had thanked him. They had all been wallowing in their guilt and some of them, their stupidity.
This startled the goblin. Given the crowds outside, he would've thought someone in the wizarding world had thanked this brave young man. "Then again let me offer my heartfelt thanks."
Harry nodded.
Getting down to business, the goblin said, "My name is Ironknife Greeva. I am a branch manager for Gringotts. How may we assist you today, sir?"
Before Harry could say a word there was a knock on the door.
"Excuse me a moment, Mr. Potter." Greeva apologised. "Come."
"Sorry to disturb you, sirs," the goblin in the doorway apologised, "but Headmaster Albus Dumbledore wishes to speak with your client."
The goblins watched Harry's face take on a look of disgust as he commented, "I wonder how the old fool found me."
"Probably tracked you by your magical aura." Greeva told him. "It gives a more precise location than a point me spell. It's similar to what is used with the tracking clocks, but it requires Ministry or Wizengamot approval to use and you have to be a fairly powerful wizard to work it. Those who are aware of the Ministry's ability to cast this spell are generally also the quickest to learn how to mask their aura."
"Which means it would be pointless to deny I am here." Harry ground out between clenched teeth.
"We can ask him to wait," the goblin by the door offered.
A smile appeared on Harry's face at the thought of the great Albus Dumbledore having to wait. "I would appreciate that."
At Greeva's nod of approval, the goblin left, closing the door behind him.
"I'd better get down to business," Harry told Greeva. "I don't think Dumbledore is going to wait out there too long before he comes barging in here."
"He is a wizard with a rather inflated sense of his own importance though he doesn't flaunt it much." Greeva observed. "We goblins have also noticed that he is very good at talking people into doing things. Even things they don't want to do."
"I've had first hand experience with that aspect of Dumbledore's character." Harry commented dryly. "I came here today to get a listing of all my holdings."
Greeva looked thoughtful. "While I can provide you with a listing of the vaults and holdings from both the Potter and Black Estates today, that would not tell us if you are entitled to any other properties or vaults in either the wizard or muggle worlds. To find that information, you would first need to go through the Inheritance Ritual."
"I've never heard of this ritual. Then again I don't know that much about the wizarding world, other than what I've picked up in the last seven years. What does this ritual involve?" Harry asked curious.
"It would be easier to show you." Greeva got up from his desk and went over to tap a section of the panelling on his office wall. The panel melted away to reveal a small door similar to the ones in the vaults below the bank. Greeva ran a finger over the door in an intricate pattern and the door popped open.