Chapter one: A Large Birthday Gift

Author's Note: I need to take a moment to say that the entire beginning of this story in inspired by Harry Potter The Lord of the Light by diabolic321. The author has a good story, but didn't execute it correctly. I took the beginning, and I am building from there into my own. This is the first story I have ever written, so please take that into account when you consider reviewing. Thanks! P.S. A Poet's Dream is that ideal world which a poet writes about, but will most likely never see the light of day.

Harry Potter awoke with a sudden flash of green light behind his eyes. The dream of Sirius' death has been plaguing him since he returned to Privet Drive after his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Every time the dream had a different ending to it. Tonight, Voldemort had attacked Sirius and killed him with the Killing Curse in the Department of Mysteries. The rest of the details were already fading away from Harry's mind.

It was three o'clock in the morning, and considering his dream, Harry felt unable to fall asleep again, fearing another encounter he would rather live without. With his fingers, he groggily searched for his glasses, and put them on.

He immediately noticed an unfamiliar owl standing on attention on his desk and, in her cage, Hedwig giving it the evil eye, as if to judge the owl's worthiness. He warily approached the owl, and it immediately held out it's leg. It was a beautiful owl - dark brown with several lighter spots and piercing yellow eyes, like beams of sunlight. There was an envelope attached to its leg, and Harry carefully removed it. The owl immediately dropped it's leg and stood on attention, clearly waiting for a reply.

On the envelope, with straight and bold text, stood the words Harry Potter. Harry opened it, and read the dark parchment that came out.

31 July, 1996

Dear Mister Potter,

It is our solemn duty to inform you that your Godfather, Sirius Black, left all of his worldly possessions in your care.

That includes, but it not limited to, all of the Black estates, the contents of the Black vault and the collection of the Black artifacts.

We have waited until this time to contact you to allow you time to grieve. We hope that it has been sufficient.

We hope that you will find the time to visit Gringotts as soon as possible so that we can sign the final documents to complete the transfer to you. Please ask for me at the any desk and I will arrive to assist you.

Yours Sincerely,

Gringotts Bank

Head Goblin Gritspear

Harry closed his eyes and felt a sudden stab of anger that the Goblins can talk about Sirius' death as though it were a business decision. He cleared his mind, knowing that such thoughts would not get him anywhere, and decided to confront his uncle in the morning to arrange a lift to London. He would settle this as quickly as possible, so that he could move on with his life.

He picked up a spare piece of parchment lying on his desk, and started writing a reply, accepting and thanking the Goblin and agreeing to meet. He carefully attached the finished letter to the owl's leg, and it flew out of the window.

Harry took a moment to look at the stars. They seemed to feel his grief and guilt, the way they meekly shone against the street lights. Harry finally shook his head, took off his glasses and climbed back into bed, suddenly feeling very tired. He could not care less if he was haunted by dreams or not.

He was not.

Harry woke up at seven o'clock that morning. He had an uncle to catch a lift with. He got dressed in a pair of jeans and a black, sleeveless shirt. He briefly examined himself in the mirror before he declared himself too thin. He decided that he would have to take care of that, somehow.

Upon entering the kitchen, Harry saw his aunt and uncle (Dudley was probably still sleeping) blissfully ignoring him. Harry took a piece of toast from the table and as he was eating, decided to casually mention his need to get to London.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry tentatively said, watching his uncle wince at Harry's talking to him. After several seconds of pretending that Harry hadn't spoken, he snorted to indicate he was listening. "I need a lift to London -"

"And you think that I'm going drive you there?" His uncle cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "Fat chance."

"I'm willing to pay. You are going anyway, aren't you? You have work." Harry said.

"Pay?" His uncle said. His greed was already getting the better of him. "I don't know where you plan to get the money, boy, but I'll drop you off. Now, about my payment. I'll expect twenty pounds, at least."

"That seems a little harsh, but fine. I'll show you where to drop me off," Harry said, as he finished his toast. His uncle heaved himself out of his chair, and kissed Harry's aunt on the cheek. They climbed in the car, and after a while of awkward silence while driving, Harry's uncle stopped near the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, as per Harry's request.

"If it won't be a problem, you can come and pick me up here after work," Harry said, climbing out of the car. "Thank you for the lift, Uncle." His uncle just snorted and drove off, leaving Harry alone at the Leaky Cauldron.

He walked into the pub, and stayed in the shadow's as he walked to the wall that opened unto Diagon Alley. He tapped the brick that would allow him to enter, and stepped into the Alley. He decided that he would eat breakfast after seeing the Goblin, so went straight to Gringotts.

Inside the bank, Harry was inside the same opulent room he was in the last time he visited. Rows of desks with Goblins sitting behind them were on the sides while several moody Goblins were walking by with expensive looking treasures in their hands.

Harry walked over to the desk closest to him and the Goblin looked expectantly up at him. Harry cleared his throat and said, "Good morning, sir. I'm here to see a mister Gritspear." The Goblin stared at him, and finally said, "And whom should I say is looking for him?" Harry was distantly surprised that the Goblin did not recognize him, as anyone else would have after seeing his scar. He pushed those thoughts away and said, "Harry Potter."

The Goblin nodded and and motioned for Harry to follow him. He led him off into a side room which was about the size of a large office. Amoung the walls hung several portraits of moody Goblins, all staring coldly at Harry. Behind a desk at the far side of the room sat a Goblin, whom Harry assumed to be Gritspear. The Goblin that led Harry in said, "Harry Potter to see you, sir," and left. The head Goblin stood up, smiled at Harry and bowed. Harry thought it only polite to bow back.

Harry walked forward towards the desk, and the Goblin said in a husky voice, "Thank you for coming, Mr. Potter." He motioned for Harry to sit, and they both sat down. "Thank you for informing me of his decision to leave his belongings to me. I have to ask, though. I do not remember signing any papers in regards to what my parents left me after they passed away."

Surprisingly, Gritspear smiled, and gravely said, "Those documents will also be signed now. It was the wish of your father that you receive those at the age of sixteen. As your birthday was yesterday, you are now old enough to legally own all of the estates and other possessions." Griphook smiled, then and continued. "I must inform you, Mr. Potter, that my service as solicitor is only for the very wealthy, so rest assured that whatever you may become the owner of today, is only that of great monetary value."

Harry nodded, and briefly thought about telling Gritspear to just get on with it, but then decided that he might as well just be diplomatic. "Thank you again, sir. I do wish to finish this as quickly as possible, so if you do not mind..." Harry tailed off.

Gritspear nodded and placed a blank piece of parchment in front of Harry. On top of the parchment, was a silver knife with a hilt that looked a lot like ivory. Harry glanced at the parchment, and then back at Gritspear with his eyebrows raised. "All you have to do, Mr. Potter, is cut your finger and let a drop fall on the parchment. Your finger will immediately heal, and the parchment will inform us of everything that you will inherit."

Harry warily eyed the knife as he picked it up. It looked normal, but he felt a trace of healing magic coming from it. He poked his index finger with it, and a few drops of ruby red blood fell on the parchment. Harry felt the cut immediately heal as words appeared on the parchment.

Harry James Potter

Owner of the Black estates, money and possessions.

Owner of the Potter estates, money and possessions.

Owner of the Ambrosius estates, money and possessions.

Harry stared at the parchment in shock, wishing he knew why Ambrosius was on the list. He heard Gritspear gasp and say, "Bless my soul. You are the heir of Merlin!"

Harry stared at Gritspear, and he immediately said what his instincts told him to do. "There must be some mistake-" Gripspear suddenly looked sternly at him, and said with a voice that had an edge of a warning to it, "I assure you, Mr. Potter, that this parchment can not possibly be wrong. Although I doubt you are the blood heir of Merlin, you are certainly his Magical heir. Before we go and inspect your vaults, we must first determine your current worth." Gritpear stood up, and went to a large file cabinet that was next to his desk. He pulled out three files, and sat behind the desk again. Harry, still in a daze, could only listen.

"The Potter file estimates the worth of the Potter possessions as ten million Galleons. The Black file estimates a worth of fifty million Galleons for the Black possessions and finally..." Gritspear paused, then eagerly said, "Mr. Potter. This file has not been opened in almost a thousand years!" He opened the last of the three files, and looked at the contents. "Oh my. Mr. Potter, I do believe you are the wealthiest person in the world. The Ambrosius line is worth nine-hundred-and-eighty billion Galleons." He scanned the rest of the file and finally said, "I think we need to visit the vault of the account. All your other funds will be transferred to this account. I will personally escort you to your vault."

Gritspear stood up, and Harry, now finally out of his daze, followed him out of his office and into a cart that drove them to his vault. While the cart was driving, Harry thought about the repercussions of what this could mean. He could, if all that money and wealth was his, make sure that no wizard family is poor ever again. He could help the Weasley's so that they will never be poor ever again. He could fund anything his heart desired to make the world a better place. He could even make life fun for himself, as well. He could buy anything he could ever want, without even considering cost.

After the cart finally came to a stop, Harry looked up at the vault. On the door stood the words "Vault One." They climbed out of the cart and stood in front of the door. Gritspear, standing next to him, said in a hushed voice, "Just say your full name to the door, and it should open. I will wait in the cart until you have finished." Harry smiled at Gritspear and said, "Thanks, Gritspear. You've been a great help." He nodded and walked back to the cart, leaving Harry in front of a very large vault door. He gathered up all his Gryffindor courage, and said in a firm voice, "Harry James Potter."

The vault's door melted away like lava and in it's place, was only a black abyss. Harry walked forward, and entered. For a moment, he saw and heard nothing, save for his own beating heart. After a moment, a figure walked in the distance. It was coming towards Harry. At first, Harry thought that Dumbledore was standing in front of him, but after seeing the blue robed, tall man with intelligent green eyes, he realized who was standing in front of him.

"Hello, Harry. My name is Merlinus Ambrosius, but you can call me Merlin."