"Go bring them up." Harry took out his magic wand and pointed it at the door: "Reparo!"
In the worshipful gaze of John, the blown-up brick wall seemed like iron tools attracted by a magnet, swiftly converging to the center. In no time, the house was restored to its original state.
Harry glanced at him.
He quickly ran down to the basement, and after a while, brought up a man and a woman.
"Thank you, Mr. Wizard," the two people said, wiping tears from their eyes, "Oh God, I thought I was going to die here..."
"At least you're still alive, aren't you?" Harry said, "Are you both Muggles? Oh, I mean, the people being captured and tortured by him, none of you know magic, do you?"
"Those two know magic." The woman among the three pointed at the heads soaked in the jar beside them, then rolled her eyes and vomited all over the floor.
"Why did he capture you?" Harry asked.
"We don't know." The three said honestly.
John suddenly said, "Oh, last night, I seemed to see a black-haired person in the basement. I don't know if I saw it wrong, but his body appeared to be transparent..."
"Transparent?" Harry frowned and asked, "Could it have been a ghost? What did he look like?"
"Very handsome, somewhat like a young Bjorn Anderson—he was even more handsome than Anderson," John said.
Harry noted this detail and continued to ask, "Anything else?—I mean, like this person's physical characteristics?"
"I don't remember, only these," John answered.
"What about you two?" Harry looked at the remaining two people.
The two shook their heads to indicate they didn't know.
Harry nodded and said, "Alright—that's all I needed to ask. I'll take you out of Diagon Alley later—this place is a gathering of dark wizards and a bit dangerous for those of you without magic."
"Understood, thank you." The three quickly nodded together.
They had experienced enough these past few days to know that Harry wasn't lying.
"Then... Mr. Wizard," the woman asked, "Are you like... a police officer among wizards?"
"No, I'm not an Auror," Harry said with a smile, "I'm just an ordinary student longing for a normal life."
Upon hearing Harry's words, the three stood in awe.
Not you... with such strength... still a student?
Could it be that students in the Wizard World School are all this... powerful?
Harry knew what the three were thinking. He shrugged and said with a slight downturn of the mouth, "Well, maybe I am a little bit special."
When sending them out of Diagon Alley, Harry reluctantly took them to the bank to receive a "reward."
Not much money; it seemed their families were quite wealthy. In any case... Harry gained a sum of British Pounds, deposited in his personal account.
Given their gratitude, Harry didn't cast the Forgetfulness Spell on them.
After all, he was just an ordinary student at Hogwarts; altering Muggle memories wasn't his responsibility.
But Harry was kind enough to use a magic spell to blur the parts of their memories that they shouldn't have seen, like the heads in jars and various organs.
"Goodbye, wizard classmate."
The three waved to Harry, expressing their thanks.
Harry also waved back and bid them farewell.
He didn't forget to pull out an Ageing Potion from his pocket, taking a sip to extend its effect.
Standing at the door of the bank, Harry was still pondering what John had said.
Who exactly was that young man's soul? What connection did he have with this dark wizard?
Thinking about this, he suddenly had some regrets.
Damn, killed too quickly!
Was too focused on eradicating evil.
Sometimes being too decisive and aggressive isn't a good thing.
But since the outcome was like this, Harry decided to stop dwelling on it mentally.
Having visited a Muggle bank, he hadn't been to a wizarding bank yet—there were important materials waiting for him in Vivi's little treasure trove.
As for that small fortune, Harry didn't plan to use it. Perhaps when Vivi returned, he might need the money, maybe to buy a property or something.
With this thought, Harry returned to the Broken Cauldron Bar.
Old Tom didn't recognize who he was, and when he saw him heading straight for the brick wall after entering the bar, he said nothing, just continued mixing drinks at the bar.
Passing through the bar's brick wall, Harry arrived at Gringotts again.
Gringotts was the same as it was when he last visited, fairies flitting about, with some wizards sitting at the counters handling transactions or following fairies to underground vaults to withdraw or deposit items.
Harry looked around and saw a familiar face from the last time who had helped him—a fairy named Griphook.
With the idea that familiar people are easier to deal with, Harry plopped down in front of the counter.
"Name," Griphook didn't even lift an eyelid.
"Harry Potter." Harry didn't hide his real name.
Griphook made an "oh" sound.
"Oh, Harry Potter, weren't you here to withdraw money last year?"
Saying this, Griphook felt something was off.
He lifted his head to look at Harry, somewhat hesitant.
"I remember... last year you were just a first-year student, right?"
Griphook's small eyes scanned Harry up and down, internally questioning, how did human cubs grow so fast now? Haven't seen them in a few days, grown so big they're unrecognizable...
What on earth have you been eating at Hogwarts this year? Magical Plant Fertilizer?
But he didn't think much of it, just lowered his head again to organize papers, saying quite relaxedly, "Alright, the Potter family vault, right? Even though you personally came, you still need to present the vault key—it's a rule of Gringotts, you understand that, Mr. Potter?"
"No, I'm not going to the Potter family vault first, I want to head to another one," Harry said.
"Another one?" Griphook raised his head.
"Yes, the other one," Harry said, pulling out the vault number Vivi had verbally given him from his pocket: "Vault 313."
"Vault 313, just a moment, Mr. Potter." Griphook crouched down, pulling out a thick pile of documents from beneath the counter: "Sorry, I don't have a strong impression of this vault—it seems no one attempted to take anything from it for many years, please wait a moment while I check."
"Alright." Harry expressed understanding compassionately.
Soon, Griphook hesitantly lifted his head.
"Vault 313? A business conducted by Miss Vilatia Elizabeth Emali Grindelwald from the Austria-Hungary over a hundred years ago?"
"Yes," Harry nodded.
"It says here that the token seems to be a magic wand." Griphook hadn't yet realized the gravity of the situation: "A Holly Wood, Phoenix Tail Feather, eleven-inch wand, with a ruby on it, and red veins—the base of the wand is engraved with the word 'Vivi'."
"Oh," Harry didn't know the wand had 'Vivi' on it. He pulled out his magic wand to carefully look at the base, and sure enough, it was as Griphook described.
He looked up, intending to show the wand to Griphook, only to find Griphook displaying an extremely terrified expression, staring at the wand in his hand.
Hmm?
Oh, Harry remembered, this wand... Harry had used it to kill a few fairies, perhaps this thing was relatively terrifying for them?
With this thought, Harry looked down at his magic wand, only to find it shimmering with an eerie red light.
Oh no, Harry thought, I should put this wand away.
But it was already too late. Suddenly, a strong magical wave burst out from the tip of the wand, spreading throughout the entire Gringotts hall!
Wizards in Gringotts taking money or doing business were surprised to find that the fairies in front of them were suddenly showing expressions of extreme terror.
Not just the fairies behind the counters, even the fairy guards standing at the door were trembling, kneeling on the ground, holding their heads and screaming.
"What... what is this?"
"My ancestors are screaming!"
"I felt the bloodthirst of my race!"
In Harry's eyes, the magic wand seemed to be in ecstasy, the red patterns glowing with streams of light, the shaft vibrating violently, as if longing for battle.
At this moment, Harry finally realized what had just occurred!
The wand had sensed the presence of its prey and was releasing a terror aura!
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(More chapter talk please!)