Chapter one;

It had been an awful few days at his relative's house. He had been there merely days too, having recently just returned from being away at school for the year. Having already been unwell and still aching from battling the basilisk, the beatings that he received from his uncle had done him no good. He had attacked him the moment they had returned home, and the three days he had been home he had been stuck doing chores.

Today, he was stuck doing chores…in the attic.

It was dusty, it was icky and it was cramped. His aunt had ordered him into the attic and demanded that he cleaned it out – sorting all of Dudley's old clothes and toys into new boxes (the old ones damaged by time, dust and mould) and to send the undamaged things down for her to sort through. Anything that was damaged beyond repair was to be thrown away.

He had been at it several hours before he had finished with Dudley's old things, and sent them down to be sorted or binned, and his aunt had gone for her lunch with her friends from church that she attended every Tuesday. Dudley was still away at school, and his uncle was away at work still – it was safe to say that he had the house to himself, but that didn't mean he would risk the wrath of his aunt by leaving the attic before the jobs were completely done. That included re-ordering and re-boxing everything that needed to be re-boxed, and giving the full attic a general cleaning from dust and cobwebs that had built up over the past year since he had last cleaned.

There was always one trunk that he was never allowed to touch. Never allowed to go near – it was tucked away in the back corner, and usually when he was set this chore, his aunt would have him drag it out of the attic first before he started the job, either that or she would have Vernon stand over him all day whilst he cleaned.

She had been in a rush when she set his chores though, maybe she had forgotten?

Or…

No. she wouldn't have purposely left it there.

But it had been recently disturbed, that he could see by how clean it was compared to the rest of the attic – usually it was thick with dust by the time he dragged it out every year, especially this year it should have been since Vernon had left it in place last year when he stood over and watched him for hours.

The trunk was old fashioned, looking many years old, wooden with iron bands of metal wrapping around it – a heavy padlock, that was surprisingly open. It was similar to things that he had seen in the luggage shop in Diagon Alley, but he had dismissed the thoughts before now. Along the top was inscribed CALIX, he wondered what it meant, was it the brand name? or something else?

Listening carefully for sounds around the house, Harry stood and walked slowly and carefully towards the trunk. It was easy to pull off the padlock – so much more modern than the actual trunk – and it was even easier to lift the lid, although it he did wince when it bounced off the wall it had been stood against.

He was almost disappointed to see paperwork on top.

Wait, paperwork that was written on parchment?

Calix?

"What the -?" He whispered eyes widening,

Adoption papers – not one but two sets, both sets bound together by paperclips. The first, the one on top, were clearly many years older – the adoption of Lilia Hazel Calix, daughter of Katherine Calix and unknown, by Christina and Charles Evans.

The second set was the adoption papers of…

Deo Perseus Calix, son of Lilia Hazel Calix (*Lily Ann Evans) adopted by James Markus Potter.

At first he thought he had a brother, well half brother, that he didn't know about. But reading the parchments more carefully he discovered that he was Deo Calix.

How?

Who the hell was his biological father then?

Why hadn't his mother used the Evans surname when he was born, before he was adopted by James Potter?

Why hadn't anyone ever told him?

Who the heck was Katherine Calix? And who was his mothers father?

He had so many unanswered questions!

According to the notes, James Potter had adopted him and he had been renamed six months after he had been born on July 31st.

Underneath the paperwork, the adoption certificates and birth certificates, as well as death certificate of his mother, adopted father, adopted grandparents (both sets) and his maternal biological grandmother, was a letter. It was addressed to Harry Potter.

Hastily dropping all of the legal documents he scooped up the letter into his hands and tore it from the envelope,

My Dear baby boy,

I am so sorry if you are reading this. Just know that James and I loved you, more than life itself. If you have received this letter, we have passed before you were old enough to understand – as I plan to rewrite this letter on your birthday every year.

You were 1 today.

You are too young to understand just yet that you were adopted by James six months ago, you already call him dada – he absolutely adores…

As he finished reading the letter, all three pages of it, he had tears sliding down his cheeks. James Potter had loved him like his own child, and his mother hadn't ever intended for it to be kept a secret from him. No one outside of herself, James and Dumbledore knew the truth about him being adopted though. Lily had been studying in America at the time she had fell pregnant, and had only returned to the UK when Dumbledore had written about the desperate state that the Wizarding World was in, they had told their friends (according to the letter) that they had married in secret, and that he ("Harry") had been conceived on their wedding night. They told everyone that Lily had stayed in America to give birth, and had only returned because she decided that Harry needed to be around his father.

Dumbledore knew.

Dumbledore knew, and had kept it from him.

He didn't know whether to be upset, angry or shocked with all the news.

Within the trunk were items that – again, according to the letter – Lily had decided to leave her son to grow up with. Ranging from books with wizarding childhood fairy tales, to all of her school books ranging from 1st to 7th year, and all of her mastery books and research papers on Charms. Why a child would want them, he had no idea, but he wasn't able to turn them down. Not only where there books from the Hogwarts curriculum but also extra books on all the subjects, and extras on the subjects that apparently she hadn't taken.

There was a stuffed black dog that he had apparently received when he had been adopted from James, and dark blue blanket with D.P.C in white in one corner, and H.J.P, again in white in the opposite corner.

There was a dagger, bronze in colour, with a black handle with a pentagram between the handle and blade.

There was a pouch with a potion and a note in,

Deo (Harry),

If you decide you want to look like your birth self again. We disguised you to protect you, and fool those around us to think you were truly mine – we will understand if you wish to be yourself again. If we were still alive, you wouldn't be receiving this note, but rather the offer on your 11th birthday.

Love you,

Your adopted-father (dada),

James,

p.s. your mother says the potion hurts like hell!

There was also a note within the weather pouch that the dagger was in, his mother explained that she had woken to it under her pillow when she was eleven and just before she left for Hogwarts. She had never used it, nor had any reason to, she said that it had been left with a note to use it if needed and carry it with her at all times – and that she was asking him to do the same.

That he could comply with, with all the danger he got into!

Now, did he take the potion?

Harry had nearly forgotten about the potion that he had underneath his pillow two days later, with how busy his aunt had kept him with chores and his uncle with the beatings. Dudley had also arrived home from school yesterday, and had spent the full first 24 hours screaming for more food to be brought to him. Even in the middle of the night when he should have been asleep.

so when it clinked under his pillow against his glasses, he decided to drink it.

He wasn't exactly sure what he had expected from the potion – he had expected some changes to his appearance, but nothing so drastic. Everything from his hair colour and texture, to his height and body shape had changed. The scar upon his forehead had vanished and his eyes had changed too.

He didn't feel like Harry Potter anymore.

No, he was Deo Calix.

Harry Potter was 5 foot 2 inches, very skinny (you could actually count his ribs!), but no muscle mass, probably from being starved as a child. His hair had been mess – often refered to as a birds nest – dark brown in colour, and his eyes had been a dull dark green colour, his skin had always been rather pale even in the summer.

Deo Calix, could have been a totally different person.

Well, he was and he wasn't, he mused.

He was below average height at 4"8, (the average height of a bloody 10 year old!), he was still thin but no longer looking skeletal, his muscles were defined, strong but wire-like, like he had seen on swimmers. His skin was now an olive-tone, looking like he had a golden tan. His hair was a mixture of brown and blonde streaks, laying flat on his head but looking a bit wind swept, it reached down past his eyes. His eyes were now a startling mixture of emerald green, sea green and burning gold splashes mixed in.

When he had woken – before he got lost staring in the mirror – he had found a note on the floor that had clearly been shoved through the cat flap that was still on his door. It stated that his aunt, uncle and cousin had gone to see Aunt Marge for the weekend because she had suddenly fallen ill and ended up in the hospital.

Oh, well that was convenient.

Well, he had absolutely no intention of staying at their house. He hadn't left when he found the trunk, because no matter where he had gone he would have been recognised and dragged right back – now he had seen the drastic changes, he knew better.

He had hurried around his bedroom, packing up all of his belongings into his school trunk – even with everything in it, it was still ¾ empty still. There wasn't any point in taking his school robes (they wouldn't fit him anyway now, too big!), nor his cousins cast-offs, again they were too large. Far too large. All that was actually in his trunk were his school books from 1st and 2nd year, his invisibility cloak, photo album, potions kit (cauldron, blade – he needed new ingredients). That was all he owned.

His eyes sparkled as he realised that he had room for all of his mothers belongings, without removing the trunk and raising suspicion. The attic was still open, because his aunt had left him the job today of putting all of the freshly sorted items back. It took a few trips down, but he soon managed to fit the trunks supply into his own school trunk.

Where to go? Where to go?

Chewing on his lip nervously he looked around for an idea, he couldn't go to the Weasley's or to Hermione's house – both would be happy to see him, but he would have to explain the changes, and they would probably tell Dumbledore, who would send him right back.

Then his uncle would beat him probably to the brink of death for daring to leave without their permission, despite not wanting him there in the first place.

And it wasn't like he had any money to stay in a hotel or anything…

Wait! He did!

Gringotts!

He certainly did need some new clothing, he looked down and grimaced, he was currently wearing his short sleeved white school shirt and black school trousers. Both had fit him just nicely a week ago, but not they hung off him, like a small child trying on his older brothers clothes. Even his school shoes were too large on him, he felt like he was wearing clown shoes.

Deo pouted and stomped his foot childishly.

…actually that really didn't help matters.

Smirking to himself, Deo pulled his now-heavy trunk down the stairs and outside into the front street – it was practically deserted with the very hot weather they were having, families could either be heard out in their back gardens having parties or their cars were gone, probably travelling to the local park or something, since it was the weekend and so warm.

Walking to the edge of the curb and ensuring no one was looking his way, he stuck his hand out (with his wand in it), like Seamus had instructed him to do on the train. He had been sat with Neville, Dean and Seamus for about an hour on the way home from Hogwarts – he had managed to slip away from Ron and Hermione – and they had talked about meeting up this summer, when he had pointed out that he had no way of getting to London, Seamus had told him about the Knight bus, transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Well, transport in general really, since anyone could use it whenever they wanted.

He had to wonder why Ron hadn't ever told him,

"Welcome to the knight bus, transport for the stranded witch or wizard – we can take you…"

Deo tuned them out as he yanked his luggage onto the bus, the spotty teenager that was talking never even offered to help. Inside the bus were rows and rows of seats, more like couches, that were on wheels and seemed to move around with the bus – some of them still jolting around as he sat own.

It wasn't a very long trip – only a stop off in Newcastle and one in Edinburgh. He wasn't the only one that got off at Diagon alley, maybe that was why he was one of the first to get off.

Once off the knight bus, he found Tom at the bar and politely asked to rent a room for a few hours – to store his trunk in, he had no intentions of staying beyond that – the Inn keeper was more than accommodating, after handing over a few sickles. Apparently it wasn't an uncommon request, to keep luggage at the Leaky Cauldron rather than dragging it around Diagon Alley all day.

Diagon Alley was packed, more so than he expected. Then again, it was a Saturday and the school holidays, so perhaps he should have anticipated it being busy – after all, even the small row of shops in Little Whinging village was busy on a Saturday morn. It was quite often that his aunt dragged him out to carry the shopping for her.

Witches and wizards of all ages were gathered, both inside and outside of the shops. The ice cream parlour was practically over run by Hogwarts students, and the quidditch supply shop, well he couldn't see the front of the shops displays because of the crowd outside. Unlike the times that he had previously been, there were also market stalls lining both sides of the alley, filling the already crowded space.

Oh well, with so many people and his new appearance, he was bound to be unnoticed so long as he didn't do anything dramatic.

Ok, so first – Gringotts.

That was why he was here after all.

After fighting his way through the crowds, he found Gringotts surprisingly empty – there was only a very short wait to see one of the tellers, and an even shorter wait to be dragged off down a side corridor that he hadn't even noticed before, and shoved into a very large ornate office that had a very official looking goblin sat behind a large desk.

Of course, he couldn't just walk into Gringotts and claim to be Harry Potter when they didn't look alike at all.

"You aren't on the list of those currently allowed access to that vault," Axegar the goblin explained, "Yes, before you start ranting, we know you are Harry Potter – we knew about your identity since the adoption, after all we are record keepers of inheritances!"

"You didn't think to tell me? Wait, if you know, why aren't I on the approved list to visit my vault?" Deo demanded,

"Your magical guardian set dates which you would be allowed," Axegar stated pulling out a piece of parchment, sending a smirk over the top of it before answering the other question, "And because it was not our duty to do so. We had assumed, by your parents wishes, that you knew. We assumed that you had chosen to remain Harry Potter, rather than Deo Calix."

"I found out three days ago." He admitted, "My aunt left the trunk with the paperwork in unlocked. Who is on the approved list?"

"Hmm, year around is Albus Dumbledore as your guardian," Axegar read off the list, Deo bit his tongue. Literally. To stop himself to exclaiming his disgust and anger. "Mrs Molly Weasley, Mr Ronald Billius Weasley and Miss Hermione Jean Granger. Your access is restricted from July 31st until September 1st each year."

"Why on earth do they have access?!" He demanded,

Axegar explained that since Dumbledore was his legal guardian in the wizarding world – abet unconventionally and against his mothers and adopted fathers wishes – he could restrict his access to his vaults all he wanted. Although, apparently he had only set it to his trust vault; after all there was no need in locking the other, family, vaults when he didn't bloody know about them!

It was easier than even the goblin thought to circumvent the ban – his mother had set him up a trust vault when he was born, before his adoption, in the name of Deo Perseus Calix. His mother had been the last born before him of the Calix magical line, her own mother being a squilb – so he had received everything from her, as well as his adopted father. Unlike the Potter vaults, the Calix vaults weren't under Dumbledore's control; perhaps he hadn't known about them, the goblin theorised, or just thought that Deo would never find out about them.

As for preventing anyone on the list stealing from the Potter trust vault – which was refilled to exactly 10,000 galleons a year (10,000 of that in amount in sickles and knuts) out of the main Potter family vault – he transferred the remaining 6, 483 galleons out of the vault and into his Calix trust vault, which surprisingly was set at the same amount as the Potter vault each year. The total reset itself on July 31st each year, so all Deo had to do was leave a written order behind with a right of transfer, for the goblins to transfer the full amount immediately into the Calix vault instead of the Potter vault. Well, it would go first to the Potter vault and then to the Calix one.

And Albus-bloody-Dumbledore couldn't do anything about it!

After all, he had stated that Harry Potter wasn't allowed to physically enter the vault. The order said nothing about his rights to transfer funds, without going into the actual vault. And any order that Deo gave apparently outweighed Dumbledore's, so long as his orders were given first – he couldn't go against Dumbledore, but neither could Dumbledore take back any orders that Deo had given. It would rise too much suspicion for him to even try and do so.

Another thing that he found out was that Katherine Calix – his maternal biological grandmother – and own father, a squilb himself (her mother had been a witch, but a weak one apparently), had built up funds within the muggle world too, and stored all of their information with Gringotts. The Calix name was somewhat well known within certain circles, a well-known clothes designer of all types – and a very expensive brand at that. Axegar said that the business basically ran itself, the CEO of the company taking care of everything, and annual reports were looked over by the goblins to ensure that no trickery was happening. Goblins were dead serious about money, after all.

He had several, very, very large accounts within the muggle world.

Rich, well, that was an understatement.

Deo left Gringotts rather late that afternoon.