Chapter Text
When Harry finished his 4th year, he was depressed, angry, and most of all filled with so much guilt he didn’t know what to do with it. It had almost suffocated him. With him also having to return to the Dursleys for the summer made those emotions a lot worse.
Just thinking of all the chores and beatings he was going to have to do made his stomach churn. He hated it at the Dursleys. They are absolutely the worst kind of muggle. He hated them. Hated Dumbledore who made him come back each summer. Hated Voldemort for killing his family. Hated himself for letting Cedric die. He just–hated.
That’s probably why he let it get so out of control.
———————————————
It was the first of July when it happened. Harry was doing his usual chores when Vernon stormed into the house, looking pissed off and like utter shit. Harry didn’t voice this, though he sure thought it. He tried not to pay attention as Vernon was yelling about ‘pay cuts’ and ‘demotions’, so Harry assumed he was either demoted, had a pay cut, or both. Harry snorted, probably a little too loud, and then-nothing. He couldn’t hear Vernon bitching anymore, so he turned around just as a fist was thrown his way.
“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY, BOY!?” He screamed in Harry’s face, which drained of color the second he saw the fist in his peripheral vision.
Harry gulped and shook his head vigorously. Trying to avoid a beating.
Vernon’s face was purple, royally pissed. Harry didn’t make much of an effort to fight it when Vernon dragged him upstairs, into Dudley’s—now his—second bedroom. He was slammed against the wall with such force it took his breath away for several seconds. Then the next thing he knew, Vernon was choking him, his hand clasped so tightly around Harry’s throat that it was impossible for Harry to breathe, let alone fight back.
Harry knew he was fucked. He fucked up in the worst way possible, and now he’s probably going to get the worst beating on his life for it. He sent a silent fuck you to the universe… and to Professor Dumbledore.
After what felt like an eternity, which was probably just a few minutes, Vernon finally released the tight grip he had on Harry’s throat and let him drop to the ground.
Laying there, Harry was taking huge breaths of air, now that he could, but he knew the beating wasn’t over.
“I asked you a QUESTION.” Vernon practically hissed as he stepped into Harry’s space. “I expected an answer, BOY!”
Still struggling to breathe, Harry croaked out a small, ‘I’m sorry’, which didn’t seem to be satisfactory for Vernon, since he then kicked Harry in the ribs, making pain bloom all over his stomach.
“Not GOOD ENOUGH!” Vernon screamed, kicking and punching wherever he could.
The beating went on for at least 10 minutes, if not more, because, by the end of it, Harry was littered with cuts and bruises and open wounds.
“You better think before speaking, boy.” Vernon spat before he finally departed, leaving Harry to clean up the mess of himself.
He lays there for a few minutes then weakly stands up. He goes to step forward and almost falls from the pain coursing through his body, though he pushes through it, knowing he needs to get at least some of the wounds bandaged.
Slowly, he makes his way to the bathroom across the hall from the bedroom. Once there, he opens the door, goes in, and crouches on the floor to get the first aid kit. Rummaging through it, he finds the gauze and tape he needed to care for the wounds.
He closes the bathroom cabinet, keeping the kit out in case he needs something from it again, and starts the rigorous process of bandaging his own wounds.
It takes him longer to get mostly everything properly covered with the gauze because of his broken fingers and the fact he feels dizzy, probably the blood loss he muses, but he somehow manages it.
Finally done with the worst of his injuries, Harry puts the little bit of gauze and tape that’s left back into the first aid kit, then puts that back under the sink.
Huffing, Harry gets up and slowly walks back into Dudley’s second bedroom. Looking around, he sees the puddle of rapidly drying blood on the ground. He stares at it for a while, thinking that if Vernon kept up the beating, he would probably have died. Hell, he feels half dead right now!
He just stares at the cooling blood on the floor, and knows what he has to do. Knows that if he says here, he won’t be around for Voldemort to even try to kill him again. The wards on this house might keep him safe from he-who-mustn’t-be-named, but they don’t keep him safe from the Dursleys—from Vernon.
Nodding to himself, resolve hardened, Harry starts cleaning the blood. The last thing he’s going to do for these people, that’s for sure.
Already knowing the best way to get blood out of carpet, it takes barely any time for him to clean it all up.
Happy with the way the carpet looks, Harry sees the sky had darkened already. Somewhat surprised it took him that long to bandage himself and clean the carpet, Harry looks at the broken clock on his nightstand. It reads 9:50 pm.
Everyone should be asleep by now, Harry thinks. He looks around his room for the last time, hopefully, and mentally says goodbye to it. Not that he will really miss it, what with all the horrid memories it has, but he lived in this bedroom since he was eleven, and while it wasn’t the happiest times of his life, it was still his.
Sighing, Harry gets up and grabs what little he has from his bedroom. Hedwig is out hunting, but will find him wherever he’ll end up, so he’s not too worried about that.
Quietly, he slips out of the bedroom, the room surprisingly unlocked. Vernon probably didn’t bother with how beat Harry is.
Limping towards the steps, trying to be silent but failing marginally, he tries to strain his ears to try and hear if anyone is up.
Satisfied that all he hears is Vernon’s snoring, Harry limps his way down the steps. Though when he gets near the bottom, he peaks his head out to see if anyone is up or if he was correct in his assumption.
Seeing no one, he limps the rest of the way down and gets to his old cupboard. Still locked to hell and back…. Maybe he could try wandless magic…?
Taking a deep breath, Harry mutters an ‘Alohomora’.
click.
Surprised it worked, Harry takes the locks off and kneels down. He grabs everything. His broom, wand, books, invisibility cloak, and trunk. He locks it back up, hoping to buy himself a day or two from anyone coming after him, and leaves out the front door with his invisibility cloak draped over himself.
Once he’s a few blocks away from No. 4 Privet Drive, he calls the Knight Bus. He’s home free.
———————————————
He pays, thanks the driver quietly, and gets off. The second he steps off though, the bus is speeding away. Sighing, Harry goes to go inside, but remembers the last few times he did. How everyone stared at him and his scar or tried to talk to him… yeah no thanks.
Not wanting to deal with that, he goes into a side alley and thinks for a moment about what to do… could he try a wandless glamor? It worked with the unlocking charm, he could try it with the glamor.
Taking a deep breath, he whispers the incantation and… nothing happens. Sighing, he tries again, this time trying to feel the way his magic feels when he casts a spell. He whispers it and this time he feels magic wash over him.
Smiling to himself, Harry leaves the alley and walks to the Leaky Cauldron. On the short walk there, he catches his reflection in a shop window. He does look different. Really different. He now has long light blonde hair… honestly he could look like Lucious Malfoy’s illegitimate son or something.
Shaking his head, he keeps walking, eventually going into the pub.
———————————————
He walks in confidently, knowing no one can know it is him with the glamour, and waits for a few wizards to leave the pub so he can follow them out into the alley discreetly.
He breathes a sigh of relief once he’s in Diagon, happy he is no longer under the Dursleys roof.
He contemplates writing to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius, but remembers that they haven’t written to him at all that summer. Keeping him completely in the dark about what has happened since school.
Angry about the reminder of how alone he is, Harry goes into a side alley to count the money he has.
Putting his trunk down, he rummages through it, collecting all the money he has from his last Hogsmeade trip, and counts it.
He has five galleons and two sickles… not much but he should be able to get a hostel for the night…
Sighing, Harry puts everything except the money back into his trunk, he should be able to go to Gringotts tomorrow and get some money out then. If only he had Hermione and Ron with him. They would be able to make this more bearable.
Taking a breath, Harry resizes his trunk and leaves the little alley he was in. He walks around for a bit and comes across the entry to Knockturne… there has to be a cheap place down there…
Harry subtly looks around, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. Seeing no one is looking, he goes down the alley.
After wandering for a few minutes, he found an old witch who was willing to let him stay in a room above her shop for a few nights, and for a cheap price as well. So he now has two galleons and the two sickles left, and is standing in a barren room with just a bed, a night stand, and his trunk.
‘I need money…’ he thinks to himself, looking at the small room he has for the night. ‘...I’ll go to Gringotts tomorrow, I guess.’
Shaking his head, he puts his things by the foot of the bed and sits on it. Surprisingly, it’s comfortable, though anything is when you live with the Dursleys…
Stopping that train of thought before it turns into a breakdown, Harry lays down, and goes to sleep.
———————————————
For a few minutes, Harry was content to just lay there, basking in the peace that washed over him. No more having to do chores, no more beatings, no more of anyone telling him what to do and how to do it… The freedom was intoxicating. Is this how being free for the first time in your life feels? Harry really doesn’t want it to stop.
He doesn’t want to get up, but knows he has things to do today. Sighing, he reluctantly gets out of bed, looking mournfully at the cozy sheets, and goes to get dressed.
While getting dressed, he hears a pecking at the window. Looking over, he sees Hedwing, looking–glaring–at him. He sheepishly goes and opens the window after he finishes dressing.
Hedwig hoots at him, nipping his ear harshly, bordering on painfully, almost like she's telling him ‘I'm glad you're out, though I’m pissed you left me’. Giving Hedwig a small smile, Harry affectionately pets her until she calms down.
Harry knows it would be better to tell his owl where he’s going this time. “I’m going to be going into Diagon today, so you will be here by yourself for most of it.” He explains to his owl.
Hedwig just blinks at him once and nuzzles against his neck, begging for more attention.
Chuckling softly, Harry gives in and pets her for a few more minutes until he absolutely has to go. “I’m sorry Hedwig, but if I want to do everything I want to do today, I have to go.” She hoots in understanding, and goes to sit on his trunk, looking expectantly at him. Confused, Harry goes to ask why she is looking at him like that, then he remembers. “Oh, you want your cage, huh?” he asks. She hoots a conformation. Sighing, he goes to his trunk and has her move. He then gets out the cage and puts it near the window for her. “There,” he says. “now I really have to go.” He puts the glamour back on, and slips out of the room.
———————————————
Walking into Gringotts, Harry can feel the glamour come off. ‘Probably goblin magic’ he thinks. He walks up to a goblin closest to him. “Can I talk to my account manager, please?” he asks.
“Name?” The goblin curtly says, not looking up from what he’s writing.
“Harry Potter.”
At this, the goblin looks up, most of his attention on the small boy. “Do you have your key, Mister Potter?” He asks.
Shaking his head, Harry replies. “No sir… I’ve never gotten my key from anyone.” Actually, it’s weird. Shouldn’t he at least have a copy? It is his vault after all.
The goblin hums at this. “You will need to complete a test then, to see if you are who you say you are. Follow me.” He gets up and leads Harry to the back of the bank.
They walk for maybe a minute, before the goblin gets to a set of double doors, and knocks rather loudly. “Enter,” they hear from inside, and do as instructed.
“Griphook, this boy is saying he’s Harry Potter, though he doesn’t have his vault key.” The goblin explains then promptly leaves. Bewildered, Harry watches the goblin go and then turns to Griphook, who is already staring at him.
“Mister Potter, please, take a seat. It seems we have a lot to discuss.” The goblin says, not unkindly.
Nodding, Harry does as asked. “Uh, what do we have to talk about exactly?” Harry asks, curious.
Griphook puts the papers he was working on, before the interruption, aside and gives Harry his full attention. “We, at Gringotts, have been trying to get in contact with you in regards to your accounts. Since Lord and Lady Potter are no longer here to have these meetings, I have been trying to get a hold of you to keep up the maintenance of them.” The goblin explains. “We have sent numerous letters to you and your former muggle and magical guardians in regards to it, though we find every letter unanswered.” Griphook stops talking and looks at Harry expectantly.
Realizing he should say something, Harry says. “I didn’t get anything from you guys… also magical guardian?” He questions.
Griphook nods. “Yes, Albus Dumbledore.”
Harry feels like he goes through the five stages of grief just then. Dumbledore is his magical guardian? So he deliberately placed him at the dursleys? He knows what they do to him! He knows everything that they do to him, so why was he placed there each summer?
Griphook, either not caring that Harry is having a mental crisis, or just doesn’t notice, says. “Anyways, the first order of business will be the inheritance test. Just to make sure it’s actually you and not some person impersonating you.” He does something with his hands and a piece of parchment appears, along with a sharp knife. “All you have to do is place three drops of blood here,” He points to the parchment. “and wait a few seconds.”
Calming down, Harry nods and takes both the parchment and knife. He places the parchment on the desk in front of himself, and pricks his finger with the knife. He lets three drops drip onto the paper then pulls his hand away.
They wait a few seconds before the parchment glows faintly and starts getting longer. Once it is done, Harry picks it up and reads the contents.
Harrison James Potter.
Status - Emancipated.
Paternal Parent: James C. Potter
Maternal Parent: Lily J. Potter (née Evans)
Other familial relations:
Petunia Dursley (née Evans) - Aunt (Maternal)
Sirius Black - Godfather - Paternal
Severus Snape - Godfather - Maternal
Dorea Potter (née Black) - Grandmother (Paternal)
Fleamont Potter - Grandfather (Paternal)
Rose Evans (Maiden name unknown) - Grandmother (Maternal)
Henry Evans - Grandfather (Maternal)
Heritages, Vaults, and Properties:
Heritage:
Potter (Birthright)
Peverell (Direct lineage)
Black (Heir via Sirius Black)
Ravenclaw (Maternal Descendant)
Slytherin (Conquest)
Vault Contents:
Potter main vault - 724,912 Galleons, 14,240 Sickles, 4,219 Knuts.
120 books, 392 artifacts, 260 heirlooms.
Potter trust vault - 15,321 Galleons, 3,490 Sickles, 1,092 Knuts.
Peverell main vault - 9,354,120 Galleons, 829,045 Sickles, 153,192 Knuts.
3,827 books, 5,128 artifacts, 4,102 heirlooms.
Peverell artifact vault: 16 items.
Black main vault - 24,892,254 Galleons, 1,143,542 Sickles, 623,413 Knuts.
1,253 books, 7,144 artifacts, 2,937 heirlooms.
Ravenclaw main vault - 862,138,009 Galleons, 47,295,732 Sickles, 4,856,902 Knuts.
160,975 books, 86,553 artifacts, 67,432 heirlooms.
Slytherin main vault - 732,957,316 Galleons, 75,419,573 Sickles, 82,573,235 Knuts.
1,854 books, 23,753 artifacts, 2,980 heirlooms.
Properties:
Godric’s Hollow Cottage (in disrepair, uninhabitable.)
Potter Manor (Needs repairs and cleaning, somewhat habitable.)
Potter Europe Vacation House (Needs repairs and cleaning, somewhat habitable.)
Peverell Manor (Needs repairs and cleaning, inhabitable.)
Peverell Cottage (Needs cleaning, habitable)
Black Manor (Needs major repairs and cleaning, Inhabitable)
Black Townhouse (Repairs happening, habitable, 9 residents 1 house elf.)
Black Paris Vacation House (Needs repairs, habitable.)
Ravenclaw Cottage (Habitable, 1 elf.)
Slytherin Castle (Needs repairs and cleaning, inhabitable.)
Transactions over 5 years across all accounts:
Albus Dumbledore - 1,457,389 Galleons 29,573 Sickles, 929 Knuts. 35 books, 582 artifacts, 285 heirlooms.
Molly Weasley (née Prewitt) - 25,000 Galleons per summer.
Petunia Dursley (née Evans) 1,500 Pounds each month.
Hermione Granger - 500 Galleons each month.
Ronald Weasley - 750 Galleons each month.
Ginevra Weasley - 750 Galleons each month.
Compulsions and Blocks:
Compulsions:
Loyalty keyed to Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley.
Love potion administered once each month, keyed to Ginevra Weasley.
Loyalty to Gryffindor house.
Hate Severus Snape and the Slytherin house.
Won’t think things through.
Do as told by Albus Dumbledore.
Hate Dark Magics.
Blocks:
Magical core - 70% (30% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Parseltounge - 20% (80% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Dark/Grey core - 95% (5% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Dark Magic - 85% (15% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Soul-Bond to T.M.R - 90% (10% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Necromancer abilities - 100% (0% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Glamour - 95% (5% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Eidetic memory - 90% (10% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Natural Occlumency - 100% (0% broken) - Placed by Albus Dumbledore, Nov 1st, 1981.
Bonds:
Tom Marvolo Riddle - Soulmate (Blocked)
Sirius Orion Black - Godfather (Blocked)
Severus Tobias Snape - Godfather (Blocked)
Titles:
Heir Potter
Heir Black
Heir Peverell
Heir Ravenclaw
(Soon to be) Master of Death.
Harry just stares for a long time. Not noticing anything that's going on. All he can do is stare at the parchment, because everything he thought he knew was a lie. Albus Dumbledore made sure of that.
He wants to know why. Why him, why not someone else? Why did Dumbledore do this? Why did they all do this? He wants to scream. To be allowed to break down and not worry about anything for the rest of time, to be allowed to just cry and be held.
He wants to kill someone. Preferably Albus Dumbledore. He will make sure he rots in hell. For himself and everyone else he has wronged.
Looking up from the parchment, Harry meets the black eyes of his account manager. “I’m going to fucking kill Albus Dumbledore.” He declares, giving the long parchment to the goblin.
It takes a moment for Griphook to read it all, and in the meantime, Harry is thinking of hundreds of different ways he could kill Dumbles and get away with it. No one could know it was him.
“Well, Mister Potter… I have not seen this bad of a case since… at all really.” Griphook says, marveled at how bad the kid actually has it.
Sighing, Harry closes his eyes. “Anything we can do about it?” He asks.
The goblin hums. “There is… for a small fee.” Griphook says. “We can remove all the compulsions and blocks on your person for 1,000 galleons,”
Thinking about it for a moment, Harry says. “Alright, I accept.”
The goblin on the other side of the desk smiles viciously. “Alright then, Mister Potter, follow me” He says then gets up.
Harry follows him out of the office and into the hall. They take multiple turns until they end up by another door, this one is labeled, saying ‘INFORMORY’.
“Just right in here Mister Potter,” Griphook says, gesturing to the door. “Someone will be with you shortly, then we can start the cleansing process. I’ll talk to you about everything else once it is complete and you are more awake.” He explains, then promptly leaves.
Blinking for a few seconds, Harry shakes himself out of it then pushes the door open. Inside looks like a waiting room of sorts. There's chairs lining the walls with the occasional end table by them. Shrugging, Harry sits in one of the chairs and resigns himself to wait.
———————————————
It takes maybe twenty minutes for someone to come in and take him back to a room. The goblin who took him back is named Karka. She’s the head nurse for the goblins.
When they get back to the room, she tells him to sit on the bed in the room and lay down. The room looks like a typical ER room. With just a bed, some chairs and a counter.
He lays down as instructed and turns his head to ask what to do next, but he only gets the first word out before the world goes black.
tbc.