"Ragnak, I think I've heard that name before." Harry looked down at the goblin.

"Maybe one of your classmates has this name?" the old goblin sneered.

Harry shook his head. "No, your great-great-grandfather was also called that, Ragnak I, the goblin king."

The old goblin's face changed: "Aha, now the little wizard still has the heart to learn such a boring history of magic?"

"Even goblins have forgotten a lot, haven't they, Flitwick."

Flitwick raised his wand. "See what I have in my hand?"

"A month and a half." Harry looked at him. "The stove's magic should last until I start school."

"Impossible!" The old goblin immediately refused, "You must give me a real furnace..."

"Let you make weapons and armor, equip your subjects, and then take revenge on human wizards?" Harry sneered and interrupted him.

The old goblin's expression suddenly changed, and he looked a little frightened.

Harry took the wand and poked him hard on the forehead a few times: "Listen, we can do business properly, but we can't ask for so much."

"Perhaps I should report you, the self-proclaimed Goblin King, to the Ministry of Magic. That way I should be able to find another blacksmith who is willing to cooperate with me."

"you understand me?"

The old goblin cursed, "You vile, filthy little wizard!"

"I'm not bragging!"

"I have royal blood in my veins..."

"In a month and a half, maybe you can make a few pitchforks." Harry pushed the old goblin's forehead with a little force, causing a few wrinkles. "This is my bottom line."

The old goblin gritted his teeth and nodded: "Okay, one and a half months is one and a half months."

"At Professor Flitwick's house," Harry added.

The old goblin's eyes widened.

"I already know what you want to do. Is there any need to hide it?" Harry tapped its head. "It's just that I feel more at ease if you do it in front of me."

The old goblin gritted his teeth and said, "You cunning boy, you should go to Slytherin. The insidious venomous snake is more suitable for you."

"Then I should kidnap you and control you with the Imperius Curse." Harry put away his wand and sneered, "You've been underground for so long that your brain has also degenerated?"

The old goblin spat, picked up the troll skin from the ground and examined it. "The skinning was done very well, and the subsequent treatment was also very good."

"A skin like this would probably cost a lot of Galleons."

Harry said, "I'm beginning to doubt your eyesight. If you had noticed the sword wound, you would have known that I got it by hunting myself."

"You are insulting me, a first-year wizard..." the old goblin was furious.

Flitwick interrupted him, his tone cheerful, "He defeated a troll all by himself, with excellent Transfiguration and swordsmanship. Minerva has been bragging to us about this for a long time. Harry is simply the reincarnation of Gryffindor."

"Professor McGonagall gave me detention for a month," Harry deadpanned, "but she never praised me like that."

Flitwick chuckled, "Minerva is always like this. She is very serious in front of students, but she is a Gryffindor after all."

"What other materials are needed?" Harry asked.

The old goblin stroked the skin gently: "What kind do you want?"

"As long as we can use the troll's anti-magic ability." Harry's request was simple.

The old goblin muttered, "You should go to the apprentice for this matter, not me."

"As you wish." Harry nodded and snatched the troll skin.

The old goblin was stunned and a little panicked: "No, you can't do this. How can the apprentice's skills compare with mine? Even if it is the simplest leather armor, the level of the apprentice and the master is a world of difference!"

"Then just be frank." Harry threw the leather back. "I don't like people or goblins who beat around the bush."

The old goblin hugged the troll skin tightly and said, "I also need some magic dust, ten pounds of silver and iron, and it would be best if I could get some unicorn hair."

Harry put his wand against the old goblin's forehead again: "Do you take me for a troll?"

"Do you think that what you have in your hand is the skin I shed?"

"Ten pounds! Are you going to give me an iron armor? Be honest!"

The old goblin shrank his neck: "Five pounds..."

Harry's eyes turned dangerous.

"Okay, okay, two pounds, two pounds is enough for me." The old goblin quickly changed his words.

"Half a pound." Harry drew back his wand. "I'll grind the iron and silver together and give it to you directly."

The old goblin clenched his fists: "Damn it, how did you know to use it like this?"

"I'm really sorry that I couldn't let you fool me." Harry sneered.

The old goblin spat out a sentence from between his teeth: "Since you are unwilling to provide me with the materials, I want a hundred Galleons as a handling fee!"

"You've been provided with a stove," Harry refused decisively.

The old goblin shook his head: "No, no, that's only one and a half months."

"That's enough, isn't it?" Harry looked at it. "As I recall... the last time the goblins rebelled was last century? I'm afraid you haven't touched a forge in a hundred years."

"Greedy, stingy, and cunning!" the old goblin cursed, "How can you be a Gryffindor!"

"Damn little wizard!"

"You're not giving me anything, and you're just sending me to waste with a stove that can only last for a month and a half!"

Harry ignored it and looked at Professor Flitwick: "Professor, I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you later."

"It doesn't matter." Flitwick shook his head, "My house would be perfect for goblins to live in."

They walked out of the crypt.

The old goblin stopped at the entrance of the cave, raised his hands to cover his eyes, staggered a few times, and then stood up again.

"The air above ground is much better than underground." Harry took a deep breath, "and it's too narrow and short. If I were taller, I'd have to bend over."

The old goblin sneered.

Flitwick's home is in the southeast corner of Godric's house, and it is larger than his neighbor's.

"It seems that my yard will have to suffer for a while." Flitwick waved his wand, cast a few concealed spells, and cleaned up the flowers and trees again. "Ragnac, what kind of stove do you want?"

This old goblin is indeed a skilled blacksmith.

He directed Flitwick, and soon he built the furnace he wanted.

"It's okay." The old goblin looked at it critically. "It's much worse than what I used before, but to deal with an apprentice like this..."

It paused and said, "It's more than enough to handle such a simple leather armor."

Flitwick walked over to Harry, muttering, "I really want to cast a spell on it. It's so noisy. I didn't know it could be so noisy."

"After all, I haven't seen the sun for decades." Harry shook his head. "This is really a trouble for you."

Flitwick waved his hand, "No, it's no trouble."

"Ragnak and I have known each other for decades. He is the most stubborn goblin. In his eyes, all the goblins in Gringotts are traitors who have sided with wizards."

"It would be good for it to come out and see the changes that have taken place over the past few decades."

"What are you doing later?"

"Should we go visit Godric, or go to your house?"

Harry took a deep breath and gripped his wand tightly: "Come back to my house."

He was in a mixed mood.

Home……

Such unfamiliar words.

Kaer Morhen is of course home. Vesemir and even Geralt are people he is willing to call father - but Lambert is not good enough, he is even more reckless than himself, he is his uncle.

Eskel may be able to play the role of a mother. He is ugly, but he is gentle.

Can……

No matter how good they are, there is always a lack of blood relationship.

Flitwick remained silent as he led Harry towards the road leading out of the village. After a short while, they saw a dilapidated house, overgrown with weeds and in a desolate state.

Most of the house is still intact.

"This is your home." Flitwick slowed down his tone. "Although the outside looks a bit desolate and dilapidated, Dumbledore arranges for the house-elves to come and clean the house every year."

Harry nodded, walked over and grabbed the door.

A faint breath of magical power surged.

Harry stepped back instinctively, pulling out his kitchen knife and wand.

It's not a trap.

A wooden sign emerged from the tangled grass and rose up before him, with some words of remembrance written in golden letters on it.

James, Lily, and Harry...

"This is what Dumbledore did," Flitwick said softly. "Lily and James need to be remembered."

Harry sighed, "His brain is really becoming more and more like a troll's."

"You don't need to be remembered in this way."

But he didn't deal with the wooden sign, opened the door and walked in.

Flitwick followed in his footsteps.

The furniture in the room looked like new, clean and spotless, but there was no smell of living people. Even Harry could not sense the breath of those tiny lives.

Very well protected.

He took a few steps inside.

"James?" A voice suddenly sounded beside my ear, "Is that James?"

Harry turned his head and looked over.

It was a portrait. The person in the portrait looked very similar to himself when he was in his thirties, but with rougher lines. He was wearing a wizard robe, and there was a bottle of sparkling potion on the table next to him.

"No, you're not James, you're... Harry?" The portrait's voice trembled a little.

"It's me." Harry nodded.

The portrait beckoned, "Come closer, let me see, you look so much like James, and your eyes are also amber..."

"Oh, what's the matter with your eyes? They look so like a lion?"

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you that he thought my eyes had changed because of the Potter family?" Harry replied, "And you?"

The portrait introduced itself: "I am your grandfather, Fremont Porter."

"Hello." Harry hesitated, not knowing how to greet.

Fletmont frowned in the portrait. "Dumbledore never told me about your eyes. This seems very strange."

"No Potter that I know of is like that."

"You can go to the family library and have a look."

"Although there was an accident that day, fortunately there was no damage there."

"That's a place that only we Potters can enter. Dumbledore asked me many times, but I didn't agree to his request."