As a long-time fan of I must say this as my disclaimer. DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD BE POSTING THIS FOR FREE IF I COULD ACTUALLY BE MAKING MONEY OFF OF THIS IN ANY LEGAL FASHION. Thank you.

Warning: A.U, Slight Dumbles bashing, Possible Slash

Harry Potter in:

Making them All Pay

or

How Harry Fixed his Life

Harry James Potter of Number 4 Privet Drive was safely, though not soundly, sleeping in the smallest bedroom. His second Year had just ended quite fitfully and the only thing he desired at that moment was to dream a better dream. This would later become a motto in a film not related at all to the subject at hand, but I digress. It was nearly dawn, the time of day which Harry wakes up and Harry was having a wondrous dream of an all magical town where he would live.

"Boy! Get up and make breakfast!" A shrill voice screeched, abruptly waking the slumbering teen, "it had better be done before Vernon leaves for work or you'll get no food for a month!" The harpy of a woman, Petunia Dursley, was Harry's aunt and one of only two blood relatives he knew to live. It wasn't that he harboured doubts about Dumbledore's words, but rather that he still harboured hope that the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts was wrong and he could live with someone without playing house-elf.

Shrugging himself awake Harry got up, dressed, and walked calmly down the stairs. He knew that if he didn't eat for a month either a friend or teacher would show up just in time to rescue him. He could only hope it was Hermione Granger and not Ronald Weasley. As much as he loved the Weasley's he knew that Hermione would press charges against the Dursley's on his behalf, unlike what the Weasley family was likely to do. In fact, the Weasley family couldn't file charges because they 'didn't exist' in the muggle world. The Wizarding family had even tried at one point, only to have to obliviate the officer because their files weren't existent in the muggle system.

"Aunt Petunia, would Dudley like his eggs scrambled or sunny today?" Harry asked his shrill shrew of an aunt when he walked into the kitchen. She was standing by the doorway into the living room, rubbing her arms for warmth. It was an unusually cold morning in Privet Drive that week, and the meteorologists couldn't pin-point the reason.

"Sunny side up," his aunt said, "bacon too, if we have it. If we don't I will get some for tomorrow. Also sausage, and toast. You will take a plate of food up to your room, come down after and wash up." Harry was thrilled with the prospect of food in the morning. He had hardly eaten all week that he had been home. "I am going to London today, you can come with if you want. If not you're going to Mrs. Figgs, you can't be home alone or you're likely to burn the house down."

"I'll go with you, thanks. Can I go to 'that place', I need to check something out about my family for school." Harry asked his aunt politely, thankful that she fell for puppy-dog eyes.

After a few moments under Harry's gaze she caved, "Fine, but Vernon can't know or we'll both be screwed."

"I don't want to put either of us in trouble," Harry said, "He won't learn it from me."

Harry and Petunia huddled into the car. Sitting down in her brown housecoat Petunia started the car up. She smiled to herself as she felt the engine purr beneath her. She had never felt so happy as she had when driving. 'I wish hosting dinner parties was as fun as driving,' she thought dryly before pulling out of the driveway, "Now remember Harry, Vernon can't know about you're side trip. You were with me getting Marge's present the whole time," she reminded Harry for the twelfth time that morning.

"And you had to reprimand me several times during the trip," Harry said, smiling at his aunt, "I remember Aunt Petunia. I will help you carry in Marge's present after we get back." They both grinned, for slightly different reasons.

'He isn't as much of a freak as I thought,' Petunia's thoughts swirled with realisation, 'but I can't act too different towards him. I swear that Dumbledore put him here so he'd be abused and downtrodden.' Ashamed of herself she sighed in her mind, 'well he succeeded on one account then. Harry was most definitely abused.' Thinking of all the times she'd let it happen she felt slightly ill.

Time passed quickly for the two as they engaged in debates over politics. Harry debated one side while his aunt took the other to keep it going.

"Okay, here's your stop Harry. That little bar. I imagine you already knew that though," Petunia told him, "Do what you have to do and go to that coffee shop right over there, the one with the green awning. I'll meet you there."

"Okay Aunt Petunia," Harry said, "Maybe we can debate on the way home too?"

"Of course," His aunt replied, "What better way to pass the time does exist but a nice modern debate."

Harry exited the car and waved goodbye as it sped off to do the shopping. He walked up to the Leaky Cauldron and entered quietly as though not to arouse excitement. The bar, as loud as it was, didn't pay him any mind as he once again thanked all those above that he hadn't gotten his hair cut. His jet black hair covered his scar and nearly all of his eyes, he nearly looked like one of those Americans who mope a lot. 'What were they called again?' he thought to himself, 'Elmo's?' Quickly making the assumption that he was better off not knowing he filed the information away for later and went to the barkeep, Tom.

"Can you open the corridor to Diagon for me?" Harry asked the older man politely, "I need to get to Gringotts and get some books." Harry had decided that year to take Runes and Arithmancy with Hermione. He was going to buy the books early so that he could study up on them, after all making wards relied on Runes and Warding was a much needed skill for him, especially after he had caught himself looking at Percy's arse at the end of the year.

"Will do Mr. Potter," Tom said, whispering the last part so only Harry could hear, "I won't be telling anyone you were here. I got the feeling that the 'eadmaster don't wanting you to come here."

Smiling at Tom for his understanding Harry followed the man out to the other side of the tavern and through the door. Facing the wall Tom used a finger to tap the bricks. When faced with Harry's inquisitive stare he shrugged saying, "sometimes you need to charge a rune without a wand. You're finger does the trick."

Harry, confused at the explanation, simply nodded. "Thank you for opening the wall," he said as he walked through, pondering the new piece of information. "That could be considered wandless magic, right?" going on thinking he barely managed to reach the bank without being trampled. Having made an ominous picture anyway, a young man on his own shopping, he never even realised that his best friend was on the cover of the newspapers littering the Alley. He walked up the Gringotts steps and through the door which opened as he was walking up, a goblin coming out as he went in.

Harry walked up to a teller that he recognised, "Griphook," He asked the surprised goblin, "may I go down to my vault please?"

"Key Please," Griphook said automatically, "thank you," he said upon receiving the key. Gesturing for the young wizard to follow he started walking towards the carts which would take them down to the vaults. "I should probably ask this now. Which vault would you like to go to?" Smirking at the confused expression he explained, "The vault you've been using is a trust vault, meaning only for when you're in school. You're family is very old, extremely so. They have an heirloom vault, which contains the family grimiore and the potter rings. The rings are the keys to the wards to you're properties. You would have been told at fifteen at the latest." Smirking he continued, "Which vault?"

"The heirloom one first," said a shaken Harry, "I want my family grimiore, then to the trust vault."

"Very good," said the smirking goblin, "May I remind you that there is no gold in the heirloom vault. The lord vault is for after you turn fifteen. At fifteen you are a recognised lord of the state and will have the perks of that. This includes the access to your family vault. Your trust vault currently has 2 million galleons. It refills every year on July 31st." The Goblin smirked again, "You could probably buy the Daily Prophet and still have enough money to ward the ministry building thrice over."

"Thank you Griphook, shall we..." Harry was interrupted by the swift action of the now moving cart. Its steep angled dive towards the lower levels quenched his thirst for adventure in a single second. He now realised what Hagrid had meant by slower, though he wanted it faster. His grin was matched by Griphook, of whose race was filled with thrill seekers. As they stopped Harry only had one way to describe the ride there, "That was awesome can we go again?"

The goblin was surprised, but hid it well. He then broke out into a smile and said, "We'll see young wizard," before looking in the Potter file to check for Goblin blood. 'Not a drop,' Griphook thought, 'Maybe some sort of Elemental connection with the earth? Or just a adrenaline junky?' turning to the door of the vault he waved at it, causing the locks on the lock to shift. "Please insert and turn the key. I would do it but I don't have Potter blood. I would be disintegrated within seconds." The key fit into the lock and turned, opening the door.

Harry was astonished by the vast treasures that he saw as the door opened. Walking inside he noticed a large book on a stone pedestal. He walked over to it and read the cover The Book of Infinite Shadows Was on the cover and just below that was The Grimiore of the Potter Family. Harry smiled, 'That was easy,' he thought whilst grabbing the grimiore. The grimiore shrunk on contact, allowing him to put it in his pocket, which it somehow transfigured into a case that just happened to be connected to the pants. He smiled and went over to Griphook, "I think I will need a list of properties mailed to me. I'll send Hedwig tonight if you'll allow her to send it."

"That will be fine Mr. Potter," Griphook said, "I will do so when we are finished."

"Thank you Mr. Griphook."

The duo walked back to the cart and clambered in. The cart, now moving back up the line, went swiftly up towards the top to Harry's trust vault. "I will need the Key now Mr. Potter, as only a Gringotts Goblin may open this." After receiving the key Griphook opened the vault, allowing Mr. Potter inside.

"There has to be a way to easily remove coins," Harry said, "even muggles can do that now."

Griphook looked at the young Potter and said, "You could get a cheque book." Harry's mouth dropped.

"Can I get a cheque book please Griphook?" Harry asked and pleaded the normally surly, though currently quiet helpful, Goblin.

"Okay, but only if you stop pouting like that. I'm sure humans believe its cute but its odd to Goblins," smirking as Harry quiet pouting Griphook waved his hand and conjured a cheque book for the Potter heir, "here you are. You have to sign them for them to work you know, and unusual purchases will be looked at with scrutiny. Also, never give one to Albus Dumbledore, he is persona non grata with the goblins right now."

"What did he do?" Harry asked, wondering what was so horrible to Goblins refused to do business with the elderly man.

"He stole the keys to several vaults, including yours," Griphook said, "we here at Gringotts don't condone thievery."

Harry made a noise of understanding and ginned, "I hope he gets what he deserves," he said diplomatically.

"He will," Griphook said with a feral grin, "he will." Harry thought about warning the Headmaster through a letter, but decided otherwise. If he had pissed off the Goblin nation then he should be pushed off a bridge, not helped to float in air. With that decision made he thanked Griphook, who looked extremely surprised at the courtesy, and walked out the door.

'Down the street to Flourish and Blotts then,' He thought to himself, 'Madam Malkins will have to wait until closer to the school year.' Walking down Diagon Alley he was happy to notice that no one noticed him. Once again thanking the gods above for not getting a haircut, and briefly wondering how wizards and witches were so blind, he walked into Flourish and Blotts. Wondering into the charms section he saw the book, Bindings and How to Find and Remove them. Seeing as it was the first thing he saw, and he was curious as to the bindings he had heard parents placed on children to limit their accidental magic, he picked up the tome and walked around the store more. Finding a book on his new classes, Runes and Arithmancy and picking up a few extra books, he walked to the checkout.

"MERLIN. ITS HARRY POTTER." Harry heard shouted right after he left the store. Sniggering about the stupidity of magical people he went to the trunk store. He needed a new trunk as his old one was nearing pieces. The Luggage store Wise Acres was something he hadn't expected. It looked rather like a muggle store, simply with wizarding attachments.

"Hello Sir," said the man managing the checkout, "What may I do for you today?" Harry looked at the man, who couldn't be more than twenty. He had brown hair and eyes and a nameplate that said, "Hi, I'm Adrian." He looked rather harmless, and if he wanted to admit it to himself, cute.

"I need a new trunk," Harry said, making sure that the man couldn't see his eyes or his scar. They identified him better than a revealing spell, or so he thought, "My current one isn't in good condition."

"Ah, Hogwarts... Second year?" Adrian asked and then shook his head, "I'd remember you if you were a firstie last year. Third year then, no higher." He walked around to where Harry was standing, "So, What will you be looking for then?"

"I think three compartments... One for my clothes, one for my books and one for my supplies, or maybe four... I want to split my writing and potions supplies up," Harry rambled, wanting to make sure he didn't embarrass himself in the shop. He had, after all, been honest with himself that day.

"Of course," Adrian smiled, "I have just the thing. I see you have a warding book, are you going to add your security or would you like me to? I charge ten galleons upon fully warding the trunk, it takes energy and time but no supplies will be missing but the trunk so I can't really charge more than that without a dirty conscience."

"Could you please, I don't want people to notice all my books, especially not my friend Hermione. She would try to read them before I did and I want to read them," Harry smiled at the man.

"Of course Mr. Potter," Adrian said smiling back.

Harry flinched back in surprise, "How did you guess?"

"A smaller than average third year with a friend named Hermione. The only one that fits that bill is Harry Potter," the man said grinning, "It wasn't hard to fit with the jet black hair and emerald green eyes that you flashed with that smile."

"Oh, thanks for the information... How does everyone know about my school life?" Harry asked Adrian who handed him a Daily Prophet.

"The Daily Prophet runs stories on you at least three times a year during school and five times during the break. Everyone knows about your friends, classes, even grades. You're slightly above average and hate potions, everyone knows that," the man said sombrely, as though realising that it was a great invasion of privacy that occurred every year, "If you want it to stop you could buy the Prophet."

"I don't want to subscribe..." Harry started only to be interrupted.

"No, I mean buy the business. Then they would have to do what you say," at this point Adrian had sat down upon a stool and started carving the runes into the trunk to make the wards, "You'd be able to fire anyone you wanted to, especially Rita Skeeter. She's the one who writes most of the stories. She is always saying that you and Hermione are going to end up together. That and Ms. Ginevra Weasley will end up killing Hermione and marrying you after covering it up."

Harry's mouth gaped open in surprise, "That may be the sickest thing I've ever heard," Harry said , "I'm going to buy the Daily Prophet."

"You may want to check with the Goblins to see if you hold any shares," Adrian said smirking at the boy, "I wouldn't put it past your family to have already bought half the company. Also your trunk is now warded," The smirking man said, "That will be one hundred ten galleons and two sickles."

The boy-who-lived wrote out the cheque and after loading his new books into the first compartment, where Adrian said the library would be, hugged the man and walked to the bank. Behind him a bewildered shopkeeper smiled, that had been his first hug in a month.

Harry walked straight up to Griphook, who was not busy with a customer, and smirked in a way that made the Goblin feel fear, "Do you know if I own any of the Daily Prophet?" This caused the Goblin to smirk wildly. The two smirking, wild as they were, frightened the customers near them. The customers simply assumed that it was normal behaviour and that the little boy they saw was a part-Goblin, after all Flitwick was and he was short too.

"Come with me to my office young Harry," the Goblin nearly purred, if he could have purred that is, "We have large amounts of information to discuss." Harry's feral smirk softened slightly.

"Lead the way Griphook," Harry told the please Goblin, "I'll follow you." The goblin lead him to a medium sized room about the size of the Smallest Bedroom in Number 4 Privet Drive.

"Let's see. The Daily Prophet is owned by your family. The current manager is aware of this and is printing what he is anyway. Your great-grandfather started the paper in 1920 in order to allow the wizarding world to stay connected easier. He appointed a manager and your family continued to appoint new managers until 1981 when Dumbledore, acting as you're magical guardian, fired the former manager and hired Mr. Darcy Prince. This was illegal technically, as Dumbledore isn't actually your magical guardian. Mr. Sirius Black is, and he is currently illegally incarcerated in Azkaban Prison. He still hasn't gotten a trial," Griphook explained.

"Okay," Harry said, "I want him to receive a trial. How do I do that?"

"Madame Bones, she's the head of the DMLE, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She can get him a trial without alerting Fudge or Dumbledore. Fudge is highly corrupt and we have reasons to believe that Dumbledore helped to put him there," Griphook said, "I will send a missive on your behalf to the ministry as soon as we are done here."

"Can I get my list of properties now?" Harry asked in exasperation.

"Of course Mr. Potter," the goblin assured him.

"Good, I'll need to review them."

Amelia Bones of the DMLE was happy that day, no crime was reported and she could relax for an hour or two until she hit the streets for her patrol. No one would know it was her but she often felt better knowing that she was out there doing something on a relaxing day like that. She hardly noticed the owl that dropped in until it dropped a letter on her head. "Seriously?" she asked the owl, "You seriously dropped it on my head?" The owl merely looked at her as though to say, "better a letter than my droppings." She shook her head, knowing that only owls from Gringotts were so intelligent. "Remain so I can write a reply," she instructed it, only for its eyes to roll at the repeat instruction.

The letter read:

Madame Bones:

It has come to my clients attention that Lord Sirius Black never received a trial. He will either get one or be released as per the laws of the Ministry of Magic. I know you know better than to go to Fudge or, worse yet, Dumbledore with such information. Please do be quick as this incarceration is in direct violation of the last treaty signed by the wizards and goblins. You wouldn't want a rebellion, would you?

From:

Griphook

Madame Bones sighed. Her friend was, as always, in a surly mood. Many people thought her crazy for having a friend among the Goblin Nation but she thought herself rather intelligent. He was also a great person to bounce conspiracies off of, most of which would turn out to be true. 'Griphook,' she thought to herself, 'What have you uncovered now?'

Eight pages later and we have the start of a new story. I will be continuing this story before starting on Harry's Third Year on my other series. I hope a break will allow me to push creative juices better. I hope you enjoyed this start. I know it seems a bit cliché but I like it so far at least. Lol.