Chapter 40 I am your grandfather (please read ~ please vote ~)

"Legnac, I think I've heard this 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 named Legnac I, the goblin king."

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

"You've even forgotten a lot of the goblins, haven't you, Flitwick?"

Flitwick raised his wand: "Do you see this thing in my hand?"

"A month and a half." Harry looked at him, "The magic of the stove will last until I start school."

"Impossible!" The old goblin immediately refused, "I must be given a real stove..."

"Let you build weapons, armor, equip your ministers, and then take revenge on human wizards?" Harry sneered, interrupting him.

The old goblin sneered.

"It's a good thing for it to come out and see the changes in the past few decades."

Harry stepped back subconsciously and took out his kitchen knife and wand.

"To be remembered, you don't need to use this method."

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

He took a few steps inside.

"No, you're not James, you're...Harry?" The portrait's voice was trembling.

Flitwick's home is in the southeast corner of Godric. The house is one size larger than his neighbor's.

"James?" A voice suddenly sounded next to his ear, "Is it James?"

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

"Perhaps I should report you, the self-proclaimed Goblin King, to the Ministry of Magic, so that I can find another blacksmith who is willing to cooperate with me."

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

The old goblin was stunned and panicked: "No, you can't do this. How can the apprentice's craftsmanship be compared with mine? Even the simplest leather armor, the level of the apprentice and the master is hugely different!"

"Then I should kidnap you and control you with the Imperius Curse." Harry withdrew his wand and sneered, "After staying underground for a long time, your brain has also deteriorated?"

A weak magical energy surged up.

Flitwick interrupted him with a pleasant tone: "He defeated a giant monster by himself. Minerva has been bragging to us for a long time about his excellent transformation spells and sword skills. Harry is simply the reincarnation of Gryffindor."

It's not a trap.

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

His mood was a little complicated.

"This is Dumbledore's doing." Flitwick said softly, "Lily and James need to be remembered."

Home…

They came out of the crypt.

"Such a piece of skin would probably cost a lot of galleons."

A wooden sign grew out of the messy grass, raised up, and was revealed in front of him, with some words of memory written in golden characters on it.

The old goblin gritted his teeth: "Cunning boy, you should go to Slytherin. The insidious viper is more suitable for you."

"In a month and a half, you might be able to get a few pitchforks out." Harry exerted a little force and pushed the old goblin's forehead to get a few wrinkles, "This is my bottom line."

Very well protected.

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

"Then speak more frankly." Harry threw the leather back, "I don't like people who talk in a roundabout way, or goblins."

Harry sighed with emotion: "His brain is indeed becoming more and more like a troll."

Flitwick followed in his footsteps.

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

"Half a pound." Harry withdrew his wand, "Iron and silver are added together, and I will grind them into powder and give it to you."

"Do you think the skin on your hand is my shed skin?"

"What other materials are needed?" Harry asked.

"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 would have to hunch over."

Harry turned his head and looked over.

Harry's eyes became dangerous.

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

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

Most of the house is still intact.

James, Lily, and Harry...

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

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

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

"Oh, why are your eyes so like a lion?"

Such unfamiliar vocabulary.

"Okay, okay, two pounds, I only need two pounds." The old goblin quickly changed his words.

Harry pressed his wand against the old goblin's forehead again: "Do you think I'm a troll?"

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

Flitwick remained silent and led Harry towards the road leading out of the village. After a while, he saw a dilapidated house, overgrown with grass, dilapidated and desolate.

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

The old goblin gritted his teeth and nodded: "Okay, a month and a half, just a month and a half."

"I know of no other Potter who is like this."

"Give me nothing and send me a stove that can only last a month and a half!"

He directed Flitwick, and within a short time he had built the furnace he wanted.

The furniture and furnishings in the room were as new, clean and spotless, except that there was no breath of living people. Even Harry could not feel the breath of those tiny lives.

Flitwick muttered and walked to Harry: "I really want to cast a spell on it. It's so noisy. I didn't know it could be so noisy before."

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

The old goblin's eyes widened.

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

"What will you do later?"

Harry took a deep breath and clenched his wand: "Go back to my house and have a look."

The old goblin spat, picked up the troll skin on the ground, and inspected it: "The skinning skills are very good, and the subsequent processing is also very good."

This old goblin is indeed a skilled blacksmith.

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

"You have been provided with a stove." Harry refused decisively.

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

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

"I already know what you want to do, do you still need to be secretive?" Harry knocked on its head, "It's just that right now, I feel more at ease."

"It seems that my yard is going to be a little rough this time." Flitwick waved his wand, cast a few hidden spells, and cleaned up the flowers and trees again, "Legnac, what kind of stove do you want.

"

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

"It doesn't matter." Flitwick shook his head, "My home will be very suitable for goblins to live in."

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

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

Harry nodded, walked over, and grabbed the door.

The old goblin stopped at the entrance of the cave, raised his hands to cover his eyes, staggered before standing upright again.
To be continued...