A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Hagrid kept rambling along the way, constantly complaining about the Ministry of Magic's unreasonable regulations, as if the whole world was conspiring against his adorable fire-breathing dragons.

Two goblins led them into a grand marble hall.

Around a hundred goblins were seated on tall stools behind a long row of counters. Some were weighing coins with brass scales, while others examined gems with monocles, hastily jotting down notes in large ledgers.

The hall had countless doors, each leading to different areas, and many goblins were busy guiding visitors through them, making the place feel extremely bustling.

"I'd like to exchange 200 Galleons," Roy said, handing a small stack of pounds to an old goblin.

Hogwarts practiced a seven-year compulsory education system, meaning the school didn't charge tuition. However, students had to pay for their textbooks, robes, wands, and other supplies themselves.

This raised an important question.

Since Hogwarts didn't charge tuition, how did it cover its daily expenses?

William learned from Hagrid that the school's funding primarily came from Ministry of Magic grants, donations from the school governors, and contributions from notable alumni.

Of course, the revenue sources didn't stop there, but Hagrid, being just the Keeper of Keys, wouldn't know the full details.

The old goblin was clearly a savvy businessman. After a casual glance at Roy and William, his sharp eye instantly judged from their attire that they weren't poor, and he eagerly began pitching his services.

The old goblin seemed to be something of an actor, diving straight into character and starting his sales pitch:

"Gringotts Private Vaults.

Located 20,000 meters underground.

Guarded by Ukrainian Ironbellies.

Exclusive, one-to-one secure keys.

Vaults separated by ten meters, with automatic alarms.

The difference between good and excellent is just a little extra effort. and that effort is called Gringotts.

The Gringotts Private Vaults—you deserve one!"

Roy: "..."

William: "..."

Hagrid: "(☆_☆)!!"

Roy and William looked at the old goblin with disdain. But the goblin wasn't bothered and continued pitching other financial products.

As for the excited Hagrid, who had stars shining in his eyes… the goblin simply ignored him. One look was enough to tell Hagrid was broke, and thus, not a potential customer.

William, watching the old goblin talk nonstop, felt like he was seeing a barber from his previous life—the kind that would prattle on and on, but whose main goal was always the same: "Buddy, how about signing up for a membership card?"

Before William could say anything, Roy decisively refused.

Roy had already asked around and learned that Galleons were magical currency made from goblin-forged alloys, not pure gold.

Since they weren't pure gold, even if he exchanged a large amount and stored it in Gringotts, inflation would still erode its value. It wouldn't hold its worth like real gold would.

Only a fool would keep their money in a bank. Investing it—now that was much more appealing!

"What a shame."

Walking down the street, Hagrid sighed repeatedly.

"If I hadn't spent all my money on that three-headed dog, I'd have liked to open a private vault as well.

"Hey, William, what's with that look? Not just anyone can have a private vault you know—it's a symbol of success for any man!

"I'm telling you, without a private vault, it's hard to even find a wife in the wizarding world!"

Wait, why does that sound familiar? William thought to himself.

Afterward, Hagrid led them into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Madam Malkin was a short, plump witch with a warm smile, dressed in purple. After taking their measurements, she suggested they go buy the rest of their supplies while the robes were being prepared.

So, they headed over to the wand shop.

It was a small, shabby store. The gold letters on the sign had faded, but it still read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Inside the dusty window display, a single wand lay on a faded purple cushion.

Incredible—they'd been making wands for over two thousand years? Roy and William couldn't help but wonder to themselves.

As they entered, they heard the soft jingle of a bell from somewhere in the back of the shop.

The space was tiny, with just a bench and towering stacks of long, narrow boxes reaching the ceiling.

All of them contained wands.

"Good evening," a head suddenly popped out from behind the stack of boxes.

But it wasn't Ollivander. He was young, slim… probably just a year or two older than William.

"On Merlin's beard! Cedric, what are you doing here?" Hagrid exclaimed in surprise.

"Hey, Hagrid," the boy called Cedric replied, dusting off his apprentice robe, which released a cloud of dust. "I'm working here for the summer."

"Oh, is that so?" Hagrid eyed Cedric suspiciously. "If you're looking to earn some money, you could've took the job I've posted at Hogwarts for summer help with magical creatures. You don't need to work here."

Cedric quickly waved his hands. "It's not about the money. I'm here for the experience. I wanted to learn a bit from Mr. Ollivander."

Of course, Cedric didn't mention the real reason—he definitely didn't want to be wrangling Billywig stings all summer. Those things were fast and had nasty stingers.

It was a nightmare!

"You could always get the Weasley twins to help you next time. They could probably use some cash," Cedric "helpfully" suggested.

"On, Merlin's beard, don't mention those troublemakers!" Hagrid's beard bristled with frustration. "I spent half the term chasing them out of the Forbidden Forest… I've never seen first-years brave enough to wander in there!"

Cedric nodded and then turned his attention to William.

"This must be the new student? Hi, I'm Cedric Diggory. Just call me Cedric."

Cedric had a high-bridged nose and black hair. Though slim, his dark eyes shone brightly with energy.

"Hi, I'm William Stark. William's fine." William extended his hand and they shook.

Hagrid smiled and said, "William, you should chat with Cedric more. He's the top student in his year. I've heard plenty of professors praise him, especially Professor McGonagall. And boy, you know how strict she is."

"That's not true," Cedric blushed a bit, awkwardly turning his head before calling into the back, "Mr. Ollivander, we've got a customer!"

A moment later, accompanied by the jingle of the bell, an old man appeared. His pale, wide eyes shone like two bright moons in the dim shop.

"Hello," William greeted him. "I'm William Stark."

"Ah, another young wizard," the old man muttered, his white hair messy, giving off a slightly eccentric vibe.

"Wonderful, I'm sure the wands are eager to meet their new master."

He ran a hand through his hair, speaking in an animated tone. "Oh yes, wands choose the wizard after all, so yours must be hiding in some corner. My job is simply to find it."

Mr. Ollivander approached William. His tone was kind, but his narrowed silver eyes gave him a rather eerie look.

He stared into William's emerald-green eyes for a long moment before turning to Hagrid.

It was as if he had only just noticed Hagrid was there. "Oh! Rubeus Hagrid! How lovely to see you again. Oak, sixteen inches, slightly bent, wasn't it?"

"That's right, sir," Hagrid nodded. "It was a fine wand."

"But if I recall, it was broken when the Ministry expelled you, wasn't it?" Ollivander suddenly grew serious.

"Uh, yes, of course, they snapped it," Hagrid replied nervously, shuffling closer to Roy, as if seeking comfort in his proximity.

"I still have the broken pieces."

"But you don't use it anymore, do you?" Ollivander pressed.

"No, of course not. How could I continue using a broken Wand?"

Hagrid answered quickly, but his large hands were tightly gripping the handle of his pink umbrella.