Chapter One

Harry Potter tossed and turned all night. It had been like this every night since Voldemort's return. The only difference was at least when he was in school he could put up a Silencing Charm around his bed, being home, well that was a different story all together.

"No! Don't kill him. Kill me instead! Cedric!" Harry woke to his own screams, sweating and gasping for breath while trying to untangle the sheet that he had wrapped himself in.

He never even heard the heavy footsteps coming from the hall. "What the blazes is going on in here, Boy?" Roared Uncle Vernon from the other side of the door, opening the many locks in the process.

"N – nothing Uncle Vernon." Harry stuttered in between gasps, finally managing to throw the sweaty sheet off him.

The door burst open and Harry's angry uncle barged in. "What the hell do you mean by this Boy? You've only been back three nights and every night you insist on waking the whole house up by your screaming. Is this some kind of sick joke?" Harry watched as his uncle's face got redder and redder with every word finally landing on his favourite colour; puce.

"No Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, still trying to shake himself out of his horrific nightmare. "Had a bad dream that's all. Sorry."

"You will be, Boy." Uncle Vernon turned to leave. "Don't even think of letting it happen again!"

Harry sighed and leaned back against the wall. There was no way he could go back to sleep now. Not many people would be able to if they had just relived Voldemort murdering Cedric Diggory yet again.

It was horrible, Harry felt as if he was actually back in the graveyard. He could see the dirt and grime on Cedric's Champion robes from the Maze. He could see the dirt on his face, the fear on his face. He could see Wormtail carrying a bundle and a wand, walking towards them. He could hear the raspy hiss that belonged to none other than Lord Voldemort. He could hear the incantation, see the green jet of light speeding towards Cedric, see the fear on Cedric's face turn to pure terror, see Cedric's body fall, his face frozen, hear his body hit the ground, see the life leave his eyes, watch him die.

Harry jumped from the bed, shaking his head to rid himself of the memories. Walking over to Hedwig he said softly. "It's OK girl, just another bad dream."

With Uncle Vernon's threat hanging over his head, along with the welcome back to the graveyard Harry was sure he would receive he decided not to go back to sleep. Not that he could if he had wanted to anyway. A glance at the repaired alarm clock said that it was just before five in the morning.

After dressing quickly in the smallest pair of jogging pants that he owned (though they were still far too big on him, being just another hand-me-down from Dudley) and a baggy hoodie, Harry went to open his door, enraged to find it locked again. Even after the conversation that Mad-Eye, Remus and Mr. Weasley had with Uncle Vernon, he still insisted on locking Harry up!

Harry snatched his wand of the bedside table and trained it at the door. He was so tempted to use under-age magic but managed to restrain from doing so. After all, Cornelius Fudge wasn't Harry's best friend at the moment and was looking for any excuse to degrade him to the public. The only people who believed Harry at the moment were Hermione, the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus and Dumbledore.

Dumbledore! That was it! Dumbledore could do wandless magic surely if Harry concentrated enough he would be able to do a simple Alohomora, a first year charm. After all, he had managed to blow up Aunt Marge. And even if that was considered accidental magic, he hadn't even had his wand on him at the time, therefore it could also be categorized as uncontrolled wandless magic. At least to Harry's reasoning.

Harry put his wand on the bed, he didn't want to accidentally end up using it, that would only guarantee a letter from the dear old Ministry whereas attempting wandless magic still proposed the possibility of a letter it didn't guarantee it.

Laying his hand on the door handle Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on his magic and how it felt every time he used it to cast a spell or charm. He slowed his breathing and thought about the door unlocking, willing his magic to do what he wanted it to do. He pictured the locks turning one by one until there was no barrier left between him and the hallway bar the door itself. After what seemed like an age and a day but was only ten minutes of deep concentration, Harry pushed down on the handle and pulled the door towards himself astonished to find that it had actually worked. He'd done it! He had actually used wandless magic. He, Harry Potter had used wandless magic!

Harry dashed to his trunk and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak out of it he also grabbed his wand back of the bed, he would never know when he would need to defend himself after all. And being Harry Potter meant that he had to defend himself quite a bit!

After waiting a full ten minutes and not receiving any Ministry Owl, Harry decided that it was relatively safe to leave. "Be back soon, Hedwig." He crept slowly down the stairs, not wanting to re-awaken the slumbering Dursleys. Once was enough for one night. Not wanting anybody to see the front door open for no apparent reason, Harry slipped out the back. It was much easier opening the back door, mainly because there was only one lock on it and the key was still in the lock but Harry still managed to waste a good five minutes with his fumbling fingers due to his excessive giddiness.

He didn't bother locking the door again, for one he needed a way back in before the Dursleys woke and second, well who would bother stealing from the Dursleys? If Uncle Vernon heard anybody in the house... well there was a reason why Harry feared his uncle.

There was plenty of light by now, a glance at his watch revealing that it was a quarter to six. How had the time passed so quickly?

Harry put on his cloak and hurried down to Westieria Lane, once there he stuffed his Cloak into one of his pockets preferring to keep himself visible. He would need to be if he wanted a trip on the Knight Bus. There was a distinctive pop, announcing the Knight Bus's arrival to Harry sticking out his wand arm. It would be just his luck that it would be Stan Shunpike who would be conducting the Knight Bus that morning.

"I need to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Now." Harry said, interrupting Stan while stepping onto the Bus. Stan's eyes popped open when he saw the new customer. Of course Harry already knew this would happen and had made no attempts of trying to hide his scar, what was the point when every member of the Wizarding World knew his face regardless? Epically due to the fact that the lovely, Rita Skeeter had his face plastered all over the Daily Prophet all throughout the Tri-Wizard Tournament – wait, best not to think about that!

The point was though that Harry couldn't go anywhere without being recognised. It was infuriating!

"O' 'course, Mr. Potter." Stuttered Stan after a moment of gawking. "Leaky Cauldron, Ern! Pronto!"

Harry was about to sit down when the bus appeared right in front of his destination. Although, maybe being Harry Potter wasn't that bad sometimes. He'd noticed that it certainly had its perks when it came to queues. "How much?" He asked, pulling out his money bag. He always kept a few coins on him, even when he was at the Dursleys.

"Nufink, on the 'ouse." Said Stan, that awestruck expression never leaving his face. Harry stepped of the bus, thanking Stan and Ern over his shoulder.

The Leaky Cauldron was just as drab as it had always been. Nothing had changed. Tom the barman was wiping down the worktop when Harry walked in. "Ahh, Mr. Potter. What can I do for you this morning?"

"Honestly, Tom." Replied Harry, propping himself up on a bar stool. "How many times do I have to tell you that it's 'Harry,' I mean if I get to call you by your first name then why shouldn't you receive the same courtesy?"

"Right'o, Harry," laughed, Tom. "So, how are you doing then, since I've seen you last?" It wasn't a well known fact that Tom had gotten rather close to Harry during the summer before Harry's Third Year at Hogwarts, when he had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. Of course this was mostly due to the fact that Harry's screaming during the night had woken Tom more than once during that time.

Tom watched as Harry's eyes took on a haunted look, the same as they did any time he thought of the Dursleys, hi parents, Voldemort and now Cedric. "Same old, same old. You know yourself Tom." With a visible effort, Harry perked up and clapped his hands together. "So, any breakfast going then?"

"Well there's porridge or a fry if you want."

"I'll have the fry please."

Tom walked off through a concealed door behind the bar, returning a moment later with a platter of food for Harry. Harry ate the food hungrily, his lack of manners easily comparing to Ron's. Though he couldn't really be held accountable, he hadn't eaten in three days, not since he had returned to the Dursleys care.

"What time does Gringotts open?" Harry asked as he finished, dropping a couple of Galleons on the counter.

"Ten minutes ago."

"Thanks Tom. See you later."

Fifteen minutes later, at around seven-thirty in the morning Harry Potter walked through the doors of Gringotts and up to the counter. "Can I help you?" Asked an uglier than usual goblin. The goblin was peering over a high desk with a nameplate reading Griphook. Harry remembered with a start that this was the goblin that had taken him down to his vault the first time he had ever visited Gringotts.

"I was wondering if you could tell me how much gold I currently have in my vault. The name's Harry Potter."

"If you have not made a transaction since your last Contents Summary then the amount will be the same." Griphook sneered.

"Excuse me? Contents Summary? I have never received a Contents Summary from Gringotts." Harry replied confused. How many Contents Summary's was he supposed to have received and why had he not received them?

"You have never received a Contents Summary for your Vault? Or for the Potter Family Vaults?" Griphook asked obviously startled by that revelation.

"No sir."

Harry fought the urge to squirm under the goblins gaze. It was as if he was looking into his very soul, his very core. Finally after what seemed like far too long Griphook spoke again. "Come with me Mr. Potter."

Harry followed the goblin down a maze of hallways, it was obvious that he would have gotten himself thoroughly lost had he been on his own. He followed Griphook into an office and sat down when instructed only to see Griphook leave. "Wait," called Harry. "Where are you going?"

"I will be back momentarily Mr. Potter." He said leaving Harry alone in the office. The office was dark, the lamps in the corners of the room giving out an ominous glow. It was very simply furnished with a desk, a chair behind it and two chairs in front. One currently occupied by Harry.

Harry whipped his head around at the sound of the door opening again. Griphook stepped into the office. He was alone but had a piece of parchment in his hands. "Mr. Potter." He began, sitting down behind the desk. "In my hand I have the Contents Summary's you wished to see, of both your own vault and that of the Potter's Family Vault." Harry started at this but Griphook ignored it, continuing as if nothing had happened.

"I also have a reason as to why you never received any of our Contents Summary's beforehand. It appears that all Summary's were sent to your magical guardian up until now so as not to alert your Muggle guardians to your fortune as we were under the impression that they would somehow try and lay their hands on it, even though there is no way they could have." He added hastily, when he saw the look on Harry's face.

"Your Summary's were supposed to be re-directed to you during the first year at Hogwarts School. Unfortunately, due to an error on my part this did not happen. I would like to offer my full anthropologies in this matter." Griphook bowed his head in Harry's direction.

Harry who had still not moved an inch after hearing the words 'Potter's Family Vault' looked at him in amazement. Never in his life had he heard of a goblin apologising. He knew to be certain that this was a rare occurrence at best and to be apologising to Harry, an under-aged wizard was even more baffling. "It's okay Griphook. I accept your apology and hold you to no fault." He said offering the custom words that would absolve the goblin from any wrongdoing, thus saving his job and probably his life. For a goblin would only offer an apology if they were in fact facing death for their crimes. Not that Harry had any idea as to why Griphook would be facing death for a mistake as simple as this but Harry knew enough about goblins than to ask about their customs.

"I thank you Mr. Potter." Replied Griphook. He looked a small bit relieved. He handed Harry the piece of parchment and then asked, when Harry was finished reading; "Do you have any questions Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced down at the first part of the parchment again. The first vault was his own trust fund.

Trust Fund of Mr. Harry James Potter. Son of Lord James Xavier Potter and Lady Lily Rosalinda Potter.

Current holdings: 136,000 Gallons 28 Sickles 75 Knuts

Next instalment due: July 31st

Amount due: 100,000 Galleons

Total amount to be received on seventeenth birthday. (170,000 Galleons)

"My parents were Lord and Lady Potter?"

"They were indeed. You are to be Lord Potter when you inherit the estate on your fifteenth birthday." Griphook said looking at Harry strangely. After a moment of hesitation he stated softly. "You did not know of this."

"No," Harry replied just as softly. "I did not. How is it that I can inherit the estate on my fifteenth birthday when I wont be of age until my seventeenth?"

Griphook placed his elbows on the desk, leaning forward slightly when he spoke again. "You are able to inherit the estate Mr. Potter for two reasons. The first being because your parents wrote in their will that they wanted you to inherit at fifteen rather than seventeen. This wish was only to be implemented only if you were not in the care of either of your godparents. Lord and Lady Potter also wrote that they wanted to give you a way out of your current living arrangements. They were under the impression that they wouldn't be the most satisfactory arrangements, for either party."

Harry nodded, slowly. "And the second reason?"

"Mr. Potter you do know that Gringotts Bank is completely independent of wizards? Goblins run everything with no input from wizards except about their individual vaults. When a wizard makes a will with the bank we ensure that the will is carried out to the letter, hence the reason you can inherit your parents estate at the age of fifteen.

"The second reason is because, as your Vault Manager, I can deem you competent and fit to manage your own affairs, thus emancipating you and allowing you claim your inheritance. I can do this without the knowledge of your guardians, Muggle or magical.

"This is rare that a Vault Manager can do this as he would have to have been bonded with the family he serves. I myself bonded with both your mother and father and when your parents died the bond we shared passed on to you. In essence, you and I share a bond Mr. Potter and this bond allows me to give you your inheritance when I deem you fit to receive it."

Harry was gob smacked. Never in his life had he heard of a goblin bonding with a human. He had never thought it possible and here he was being told that he was bonded to this goblin via his parents.

"Would you like to claim your inheritance Mr. Potter? We can do it in such a way that nobody will know that you are in fact a legal adult." Griphook said leaning back in his chair once again.

"Why would we need to do that?" Harry asked confused.

"Mr. Potter, it seems to me that the fact that your magical guardian never once contacted us in reference to our mistake regarding your Vault Contents Summaries would indicate that he would prefer for you to remain indifferent to your assets."

"Hang on a second. You keep mentioning a magical guardian. Who is my magical guardian?"

"You honestly don't know?" Griphook asked amazed. How was it that this boy, the Boy-Who-Lived no less, knew so little about his life. It was as if he was a puppet having his life dictated by those around him. "Mr. Potter, your magical guardian is Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of your school."

"WHAT?"