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Enter stranger, but take heed

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Enter stranger
Harry, dressed in brand new muggle jeans and a loose black shirt entered through the large doors, his eyes only wavering to glance at the ditty for the briefest of moments.

But take heed
Once in the main lobby Harry paused, running his eyes across the room from left to right, finally alighting on a familiar looking Goblin.

Of what awaits
Griphook tried not to gulp at the self assured steps Harry Potter calmly made as he prowled his way across the room towards him.

The sin of greed
'Long time no see.' At Harry's words, or perhaps his tone, the goblin faltered, and a raspy noise made itself known as Griphook had a bare second of insight to its fate, before it turned to a wisp, and arrogance replaced it.

For those who take
The trip down to Harry's vault was silent, as was Griphook's body hitting the ground. Harry's face remained neutral as he sat the unconscious body in the front of the cart and propped it up. A flicker of a smile twitched at the edges of his lips as nimble fingers reached into the extended inner pockets of Griphook's coat.

But do not earn
Harry had chosen the three vaults he would hit carefully. They would come under suspicion too, especially as they were all blood warded to the family. Oh but tattoos could be nasty little things in the wizarding world.

Must pay most dearly
Griphook's betrayal was one reason for this too, as though there was a lot of things going on, up on the surface, and Harry primarily had issues with wizards, Harry hated traitors, so it was as good a spot to start as any.

In their turn
The wizarding world had moved on, and were content pretending they deserved the peace Harry had slaved over, and his family had died for. Harry would make sure that what remained of his family got, if not their peace, then at least their piece.

So if you seek
Harry wasn't afraid to be the hero, he had learned. Now he was trying out being the villain. At any rate, he was more than familiar with quest and adventure than most.

Beneath our floors
Up in the lobby a Goblin of surprisingly high rank slipped on the uniform of a lowly desk Goblin, determined to maintain an understanding of every part of his bank. Back at the vault, Harry slipped of an invisible jacket. Turning it inside out and covering his hand, his limb vanished. With a silent smirk, Harry leaned forward carefully, flicking a tiny switch, almost unnoticeable to the human eye. Griphook was still, and not available to witness.

A treasure
Harry wasn't interested in the gold. In fact, short of the sword that belonged to those that could call it (and not to a greedy goblin capable of breaking into Longbottom manor), and that he wouldn't even be keeping for himself. The sword he'd merely pick pocketed. Harry had only taken one small item from the vaults. It was cold and round in his hand, but Harry knew it would soon be causing all sorts of trouble

That was never yours
After re-arranging the third and final vault, Harry stepped back into the cart and directed it to start moving again. As they passed the point just after Harry had originally stunned Griphook he knocked the cart into reverse. Harry felt a heavy solid weight in his pocket, and with an internal laugh, enervated the goblin. Griphook made a startled noise, but seeing Harry's blatantly bored look returned to the task of driving the cart with only a slight twitch betraying his unease.

Stranger you've been warned!
The signs of atrophy were slow and insidious, but definitely there. Only Harry seemed aware of the erosion of their world already beginning to crumble again. He wouldn’t let their foundation wither, this time. After all, he had a date later that afternoon in the Department of Mysteries, and one later still in Diagon Alley again.

Griphook, despite being a goblin, was fidgeting. Harry maintained a perfectly aloof and comfortable body language. Because for this, he felt no guilt. Griphook should have known better, in Harry’s opinion, because Harry could not abide traitors. Still, Griphook may have talked his way out of things last time, but Harry had stolen Griphook’s magical signature, and this time he hadn’t just left it on the vaults he’d been into.

Of finding more than treasure there.
Harry straightened his slightly ruffled shirt and pushed through the doors back into the lobby. He walked calmly across the room at a sedate pace, the only act outside his tunnel vision to reaching the outside was to flip a cold, round galleon towards the closest desk to the door. Ragnok, the leader of the Goblin Nation, watched as the sun caught the gold as it spun in the air. He barely had time to wonder if someone might have suspected his supposed undercover position, before the galleon landed in his hand, in time with the heavy click of the front door closing behind one Harry James Potter.

One single Galleon. Harry hadn’t taken much… out.

Moments later alarms rang loud and explosions boomed from deep within.