The goblin pulled out a thin metal box about the size of a legal pad and after restoring everything to its original state, brought the box to his desk.
"After I say the spell to activate it, you place your left hand here." Greeva indicated the hand shaped depression on the top of the box. "It will draw a little blood and read your magical aura, then any estates or holdings, that you are entitled to inherit will appear on a list within the box. Until the document within is removed, you will be the only one who can open it after that since it will be keyed to your magical signature."
After a few moments debate Harry placed his hand in the handprint on the box. There was a small stab of pain then a green glow surrounded his hand and the box.
When the glow disappeared, Greeva said, "You can remove your hand. Now we wait. This could take a bit."
As Harry resumed his seat, he glanced at the door and asked. "Would Dumbledore know the purpose of that box?"
Surprised by the unexpected question, Greeva looked at the door and asked a question of his own. "Is he coming?"
Harry nodded. He could feel the Headmaster's magical essence moving closer.
Greeva quickly concealed his surprise. There hadn't been a wizard who could sense auras from more than a few feet away since the time of Merlin. "No he wouldn't. With the advent of magically binding wills about two hundred years ago, the inheritance ritual has become a thing that is rarely used these days and generally only in instances where there is no clear line of inheritance. We may start seeing it used more often though, now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone. A good many families were wiped out during the Dark Lord's reign of terror, leaving those with only the most tenuous ties to a family with a chance to inherit estates and monies."
As soon as he'd finished speaking, there was a knock on the door.
"Come," Greeva barked. When the goblin entered, he said, "Yes, Griphook."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but the head of the Wizengamot, Albus Dumbledore, would like to speak with your client. He says it is a matter of the utmost urgency."
Harry snorted at that.
"Dumbledore must really want to talk to you." Greeva commented unnecessarily. "By invoking his rights as Head of the Wizengamot, we are required to admit him now."
"Bastard no doubt wants to stop me from leaving the wizarding world." Greeva was surprised by how cold Mr. Potter's voice sounded.
"Since we can no longer delay his intrusion, would it be possible for us to conclude our business another time?" Harry gave the box a meaningful glance.
"Of course, Mr. Potter." Greeva was quick to assure him. "Come back whenever you want and ask for me. If I am unavailable, I will make this information available to one of the other managers. Now before Mr. Dumbledore comes in, is there anything else we at Gringotts can help you with today?"
"Yes. After I conclude my talk with Dumbledore, I would like to visit my vault to withdraw some money and get it converted to muggle currency."
"Very well," Greeva gestured to Griphook. "Bring him in and then wait outside to escort Mr. Potter to his vault."
...
"Hello Harry," Dumbledore greeted the younger wizard as he came into the office.
He was pleased to see the younger wizard wasn't looking quite so bedraggled this morning. Harry had managed to clean up and get some muggle clothes. The dark colours he was wearing made his slender form, the thinner almost elven-looking face and the streaks of silver-white in his hair that much more noticeable. Once he was back at Hogwarts his unusual looks would make him a highly sought after young wizard, even if he hadn't been the Boy-Who-Lived. Dumbledore felt a slight pang of guilt at the knowledge that those exotic looks were wholly due to his time in Azkaban and not to the normal process of growing up.
"Potter." Harry was quick to correct him.
Seeing the icy green eyes staring at him from an impassive face, Dumbledore lost his train of thought. "Sorry."
"You may call me, Mr. Potter." Harry repeated. "I am Harry to my friends and those I trust."
Dumbledore winced at the stated lack of trust, but knew he had no one but himself to blame. He had thrown the boy away at the first hint that he might be turning Dark. He, of all people, should have known better. "Maybe we should discuss this someplace else."
"If you think I'm going anywhere with you, old man, then you really are senile." Harry countered hotly.
"Then sirs," Dumbledore looked at the two goblins, "may I request some privacy? Mr. Potter and I have some confidential matters to discuss."
"I want them to stay," Harry quickly disagreed, "as witnesses if nothing else. Just say what you came to say then leave me alone. "
"First, I would like to apolo…" Dumbledore began.