Prologue: An Anticlimactic End

Gringotts – July 31st, 1997

It was a shell-shocked Harry Potter that stumbled drunkenly out of one of the many offices at Gringotts Bank before practically collapsing into the arms of the waiting Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and Remus Lupin. While Harry's mind was barely moving, the three adults wasted little time casting a number of diagnostic spells in an attempt to seek out the cause of Harry's incoherence.

While the others worked, Remus gently grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shifted him onto the chairs the three had previously been occupying. Torn between staying to make sure Harry was all right and rushing off to find help, Remus only barely noticed Harry's attempt at speaking.

"What was that? Harry, what did you say? What happened?" Remus' gentle voice cut through the continued spell casting of Tonks and Moody.

"He's dead… He's dead." Harry's voice barely carried to the werewolf's ears it was so quiet, but immediately all three of the adults froze and met Harry's vacant stare with varying levels of concern.

"Who's dead Harry? Who?" Came Tonk's voice, filled with no little amount of apprehension.

Harry took a shaky breath before turning and meeting her eye, just barely bringing his own gaze into focus.

"Voldemort. Voldemort is dead."

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Voldemort was dead.

Their civil war was over.

Sitting next to his Order of the Phoenix guard, Harry could hardly believe it himself as he told them how it'd happened. He was still trying to come to grips with exactly how easy it had been.

It had all started with a letter from Gringotts that had arrived at his bedroom in Number 4 Privet Drive via owl the week before his birthday. As he was turning seventeen and becoming an adult in the wizarding world, it was time that he went over his finances with a Gringotts accountant.

While they had requested his presence as soon as possible once he turned seventeen, it had at first appeared as though he wasn't going to be able to go due to security concerns. In actuality, it almost ended up as an all-out row between different Order members in the sitting room of the Dursely's home. Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt both had concerns that Harry could be intercepted on the way to or back from the bank. Lupin had argued that Harry had a right to review what Lily and James had left him whenever he wished.

All the while, the Durselys themselves cowered in the kitchen pretending there weren't a dozen "freaks" arguing on the other side of the wall.

It wasn't until Bill Weasley promised to get not only a secure portkey provided by Gringotts themselves, but also a promise from the goblins to ensure the safety of Harry and his escort while dealing with bank business, that it was decided Harry would go to the bank just before midnight on the evening of his birthday. Only he and his small escort would be in the home at the time to ensure no one else would be in danger when the protections around the house fell.

And so it was that Harry entered the office of the appointed Gringotts accountant at 12:01 AM on the day of his seventeenth birthday.

The first order of business had been a simple identity check via a drop of Harry's blood and an enchanted parchment. He was distracted from his unease of giving up his blood when the parchment glowed with the words The Right Honorable Harry James Potter, 18th Earl of Black as soon the blood touched it.

This of course led to an explanation that while the Potter family held no hereditary titles, the Black family, having been granted the title of Noble and Most Ancient by the sitting English monarch some several centuries previous did hold an Earldom with no place-name. This was the title that Harry inherited when the previous head of the Black Family, one Sirius Orion Black, had left all properties and titles belonging to the family to Harry upon his own death.

The next hour or so was consumed by the review of all holdings of the Potter and Black families, both of which were substantial on their own, but combined to form a private estate that rivaled the operating budgets of most good-sized corporations.

Harry was more than a little overwhelmed, but he was also more than a little annoyed that this was the first time he was hearing anything about any of this. The goblin, in the face of a rather disgruntled and incredibly wealthy customer, explained that while Harry was the last of the Potters and the heir apparent to the House of Black, he couldn't become the "Head of House" for either until his majority, and only the Head of House could access or grant access to the family accounts. The goblin also took some time to show Harry how exactly the bank had both been using and growing the wealth of the Potter and Black families during their fifteen or so years of relative inactivity.

It wasn't until the goblin reviewed the remaining members of each family and went over Harry's responsibilities to them that everything came to screeching halt.

With a startled gasp, Harry all but ripped the parchment with the Potter family tree out of the Goblin's hands. The tree displayed the last few generations of Potters and their cadet branches, all of which showed their members to be deceased. But there were also two names that represented living family members. The first was his own, Harry James Potter, with the symbol next to it denoting the paterfamilias. But underneath it, connected to his own with a line denoting offspring was the name…

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Harry could only stare at the name in shock and denial for what felt like eons before he was able to pull himself together enough to speak.

"What…? How…? What is his name doing on here?"

The goblin hesitated for only a second hearing the panic keep into Harry's voice. "By rights of blood, the one known as Tom Marvolo Riddle is your child. Did you not sire a son three years ago?"

It took a full minute for the impact of what the goblin said to hit Harry.

By rights of blood. Three years ago.

A shaken Harry looked up and met the goblin's uncertain eyes. "He took my blood. Voldemort took my blood and used it to create a new body almost three years ago. That makes him my son?!"

While Harry began to shout, he couldn't help but be impressed that the Goblin neither flinched at the volume of his voice nor at the knowledge that Voldemort was apparently Harry's son. How the Goblin could simply shrug off such a fact, Harry wasn't sure, but much to his confusion, rather than flinch or pale or freak out or react in any other predictable manner, the goblin merely grinned in a way that would give a dementor nightmares.

"Mr. Potter, I believe we may have just discovered a solution to your problem." The goblin brought his hands together in front of his face, elbows resting on the desk. "You see, in using your blood to create his new body, the human Riddle not only created a connection of flesh between the two of you, he also anchored his magic to yours."

Upon hearing this, Harry's face formed into one of horror. He understood now – the visions, the connection between them – it had always been there, his scar had always hurt in Voldemort's presence, but it'd become so much stronger after that night in the graveyard. Dumbledore had tried to tell him, tried to explain that he and Voldemort were connected in ways no two normal beings ever could be, and yet Harry hadn't truly understood. Not until he saw their names on parchment, connected by a thin oh-so-damning dashed line.

And yet, in the face of Harry's horror, the goblin's wicked smile sharpened into something dangerous. The goblin's eyes narrowed and a shiver ran down Harry's spine.

"But you're not just any wizard, are you Mr. Potter? No, you are the Head of Household for both the Potters and the Blacks. So it wasn't just you that Riddle bound himself to. Oh no, it was your families. Families whose members you have authority over."

Harry didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Certainly not how there could be any benefit to having a monster like Voldemort in anyway involved with any sort of family Harry had. And yet, not long later, Harry too was grinning like a demon.

Using his authority as head of the family and with the help of several goblins, Harry was able to beseech the very magic of the Potter and Black families – passed down through the very blood in his veins – to judge the one known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. Judgment to be wrought for such crimes including, but not exclusive to, murder of the previous head of house and the attempted murder of the heir apparent. And if found guilty, to strip him of his connection to magic before casting him out of both houses.

At first nothing seemed to happen and although Harry really hadn't known what to expect to have happen anyway, he began to worry that the horcruxes had prevented Voldemort from dying yet again. A worried inquiry to the group of goblins still occupying the office with him led to several raised eyebrows and a relieving denial, that no, horcruxes, while protecting against physical death, could do nothing to stop the retraction of one's family magics.

And so they'd waited.

The first thing Harry began to notice was that the pulsing headache he'd had since Voldemort's return began to fade away along with a weight he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying around. Harry had just a moment or so to bask in this new pain-free existence when a number of different goblins began to rush in and out of the office.

Another half-hour of much parchment checking and growling in Gobbledygook revealed that, in some sort of last-ditch effort to keep himself alive, Voldemort had attempted to draw upon his followers' connections to magic in order to supplement his unraveling strength. One of the goblins proposed that this may have been done through the Dark Marks branded onto each of the Death Eaters, but the mechanics of such a thing were not readily apparent. Regardless, the end result was that now not only was Voldemort dead, but that he'd ended up killing his followers in the process.

That's when it hit Harry like the 9:17 freight train from Glasgow. Voldemort was dead. And he had taken all of his marked followers with him. In one night, with just a few words spoken in broken Latin and a couple of signatures, Harry had completely ended Voldemort's insurgence.

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Chapter One: The End of Summer

King's Cross Station, London – September 1st, 1997

Following the events at Gringotts, the rest of that summer was a complete blur to the one now known as Lord Harry James Potter, 18th Earl Black, head of House Potter and the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. The day of his birthday was a complete frenzied mess. All throughout greater Britain and even some parts of continental Europe, witches and wizards were waking up to find their family members and coworkers either dead or in the process of dying rather painful deaths.

To say the day was both chaotic and confusing would be a massive understatement.

That afternoon, a full meeting of the Order of the Phoenix (with the addition of Harry himself) was called together at Hogwarts. The events at Gringotts were quickly explained to everyone's disbelief and overwhelming relief. The stunned silence following the explanation was quickly followed itself by a rapid discussion on what to tell the rest of the British Wizarding World.

Harry was all for not saying anything and letting the details die a silent death, but Mad-Eye Moody was quick to shoot that idea down by disclosing that the Unspeakables had already determined that the two and a half-dozen or so dead ministry employees had perished due to some sort of magical strain. The ministry were now under the impression one of two things were occurring: Either Voldemort was dead and had taken his followers with him, or he had drained his followers of their magic in order to perform some incredibly powerful ritual that would bring doom to the world as everyone knew it.

Given the penchant for witches and wizards to panic, no one was surprised to hear that the ministry was leaning towards the second option. After another hour of debate, it was decided (against Harry's fervent protests) that a statement would be given to the Ministry detailing a rough outline of what had happened. Of course, no one had any doubts that the details would quickly find their way into the Daily Prophet.

So of course by the afternoon of the second of August 1997, most of the global magical community knew that Harry Potter (now Lord Harry) had inexplicably once again defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and this time seemingly for good.

Not having wanted to move into Sirius' old house fulltime, Harry spent the rest of the month staying at Hogwarts, something that Headmistress McGonagoll did not seem to find anywhere near as objectionable as her late predecessor. Mrs. Weasley of course objected, but once it was explained to her just the shear amount of things that Harry had to get done in the next few weeks, she backed off somewhat knowing that Harry would have both privacy and the safety of the Hogwarts wards (in the case that any unmarked Death Eaters went looking for revenge).

As it was, Harry was indeed very busy for the rest of the month, spending most of his time either at Gringotts or at the Ministry. With the goblins, Harry was able to take the time to thoroughly go over his accounts and family affairs. This included the reinstatement of one Andromeda Tonks and her family to the House of Black, as well as some distant cousins. Harry was a firm believer that no one should be without family.

Meanwhile Kingsley Shacklebolt was somehow able to convince Harry to attend a series of judicial inquiries into the actions of those unmarked supporters of Voldemort and any one else who'd been involved in the attempted pureblood supremacist uprising. After a while, Harry was forced to admit, if only to himself, that his testimonies likely did some good – he was even able get a peek at several legislative proposals that would help bring the British Wizarding World to a more tolerant future. Of course his time at the Ministry was dampened a bit by having to avoid Minister Scrimgeour's attempts to turn Harry into the Ministry's version of a combination mascot and poster-boy.

As if that wasn't enough, Harry's available time only became more scarce when Headmistress McGonagoll requested (or rather informed him in the guise of a question) that he be Head Boy for his final year at Hogwarts. Harry was very much surprised when she'd brought up the idea and had immediately attempted to turn it down. In his own mind, Harry considered himself a terrible choice - he didn't think he represented what one might call a "good student" and he hadn't even been a prefect after all.

For all his enthusiasm to turn down the position, however, alittle less than two hours after stepping into the Headmistress' office, Harry left with a Hogwarts Head Boy's badge, a new list of dates to go over his new responsibilities, and a sense of complete and utter defeat.

And so, over the last two weeks of summer Harry met several times with Headmistress McGonagoll and the new Head Girl to discuss the up-coming year. Harry had been at first surprised to find out that Padma Patil had been selected as Head Girl rather than Hermione Granger as he'd expected. After asking McGonagoll about it in private, Harry was informed that while Hermione's academic record was nothing short of stellar, she had ostracized too many people during her first few years with her attitude and hardly spent anytime getting to know people or engaging in extra-curricular activities.

Harry promptly pointed out that the Headmistress might as well have been talking about him with that description. McGonagoll then began listing out all of the times Harry had acted (or motivated his friends to act) in such a way to either serve or better the school. She had made it through him being a Tri-Wizard Champion and was beginning to recount his time teaching the DA when Harry once again admitted defeat and decided to let her have her way. Seeming to take pity on him, McGonagoll informed him that she expected him to take to the position like a duck to water and that she looked forward to see what he did with the role, knowing that he would both respect tradition and initiate changes as he saw they were needed.

It was one such change that led Harry to be standing in King's Cross railway station on the morning of September the 1st, 1997. He had brought up the idea that instead of having both the Head Boy and Girl standing near the train helping people board, it might be better to have one of them standing on the non-magical side of the border to help first year students and their families through. He pointed out that even if one knew where the entrance to the platform was, it was still disconcerting to run at a seemingly solid wall.

So, wearing an expensive muggle suit with a Hogwarts crest on his left breast and his Head Boy badge on his lapel, Harry loitered a few feet from the barrier that allowed access to platform 9 ¾. If he had realized beforehand, however, exactly how popular he had become with students and parents alike, he might not have so readily volunteered for the job.

While many families apparated, flooed, or took a portkey directly to the platform, many more enjoyed the novelty of going through the station and barrier. And it seemed to him that every one of them, student and parent alike, wanted to stop and shake his hand to congratulate and thank him for his defeat of Voldemort.

It made for a long couple of hours and Harry found himself frequently checking his new watch (which had once belonged to Mrs. Weasley's brother Fabien) between shaking hands and directing people through to the platform.

He was just thanking Merlin that there was only a quarter of an hour before the train left when a harsh voice reached his ears.

"Hurry up, girl! The sooner we get to this train of yours, the sooner we can get rid of you and I can be wash of this whole business."

Harry immediately turned, almost expecting to find Vernon Dursley escorting someone to the Hogwarts Express. Instead of his uncle, however, Harry noticed a rather weedy but well-kept looking man marching furiously towards where he stood near the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Why can't they just use a regular platform like normal people?" The man's voice continued to grate against Harry's ears as he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Well come on then, hurry up!"

It wasn't until the man shifted a bit that Harry was able to see who he was barking at. Several paces behind the man, a rather small and frightened looking girl was dragging a battered suitcase and attempting to keep up with the man's longer strides.

"Hurry up, girl! If you miss this train, so help me, I'll leave you here!" The girl let out a whimper, her eyes never leaving the ground as she caught up to the man leading her through the train station. The man had just begun to raise his hand to slap the girl when Harry decided that was quite far enough, thank you very much.

"Is there a problem here?" Harry's voice cut through the bustle and noise of the train station as he stepped toward the two. If he weren't so furious he probably would have chuckled at how cliché he sounded. As it was he couldn't help but glare at the man who still had his hand raised above the child's head.

With a start the thin man spun around before quickly dropping his arm. His eyes narrowed as he took in Harry's presence. "What's it to you? Who 're you, then?"

Harry took a moment to raise himself up to his full height and did his best to project a menacing aura. "I am Lord Potter, the Earl Black."

It seemed that the man didn't know what to make of that declaration as he simply spluttered for a minute before he noticed the crest on Harry's jacket, causing his eyes to re-narrow. "You're one of them! You're one of those fre–."

"Finish that word and I'll turn you into a toad." Harry quickly cut in. The man flinched back as though he had been struck and Harry took a moment to look down at the girl. He met her eyes for a brief moment and winked before she turned her head back toward the ground.

Just as the man was opening his mouth to say something certain to be rude, Harry spoke up in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "Are you off to Hogwarts for your first year?"

The girl looked back up at him and her eyes flickered towards her traveling companion before she nodded timidly. "Yes, sir."

Harry gave her a bright smile. "That's wonderful. I remember the first time I –."

"Are you an instructor there, then? I need someone to sign these." The man rudely reasserted himself into the conversation and shoved a small sheaf of paperwork into Harry's hands. The man quickly took a step back, though from fright or disgust, Harry wasn't sure.

Leafing through the paperwork, Harry quickly determined that the man was most likely not a relative of the girl (thank Merlin for small favors), but rather an employee of the orphanage she lived at. It seemed that the orphanage was more than happy to turn over custody of young Mackenzie Lynn Williams to someone at Hogwarts so she wouldn't have to return to them. Disgust filled Harry, almost completely replacing the anger he'd felt at the man's behavior, as flashbacks of his own early childhood as an outcast in the Dursley household filled his mind.

"Very well, I'll see to it that the Headmistress sees these." Harry promised himself that more than just McGonagoll would hear about this man's treatment of Ms. Williams.

"Not good enough. I need those signed by someone willing to keep the girl before I can hand her over." The man seemed to have regained his confidence in the face of finally being done with Mackenzie and Harry felt his disgust deepen even further.

As was his traditional method of operating, Harry barely took a moment to think about the situation before acting. Finding the nearest smooth wall, he quickly signed the documents at all the indicated places with an engraved fountain pen that had been a gift from one of the Gringotts bankers. Subtly drawing his wand with a flick of his wrist, Harry made a duplicate copy, and promptly placed the original paperwork inside his jacket pocket. The new copy was rather forcefully shoved into the clearly reluctant orphanage worker's hands.

"There, it's done. Now leave."

Without taking a second to question whether Harry was even old enough to legally take responsibility for a child, the man turned and made his way out of the train station. Harry watched the man leave as he took several deep breaths, trying to calm the raging of his blood. Only when he was certain that none of his anger towards the man and orphanages in general showed on his face did he look back at Mackenzie, who was still staring at the floor.

"Well then, Mackenzie. My name is Harry." Harry crouched down in front of her, taking care to smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, sir." Harry received only the briefest of eye contact from her before she turned back toward the ground.

With a small sigh, Harry wondered what it was that he'd gotten himself into this time.

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AN: The portion at the top, "An Anticlimactic End" ( /s/9503810) was originally going to be a one-shot and then it became the launching point for multiple stories I wanted to write, which is why it is also staying as a separate "story" on FFN.

It was pointed out that this sort of follows the whole over-done "Harry as an heir" theme, but all truth be told, making him wealthy makes the rest of this story flow better (in my opinion). I tried to temper it a bit by acknowledging that the Potters had no titles (but even in the books they had enough money to create a well-off trust account for Harry) and by pointing out that the Blacks were in canon a "Noble and Most Ancient House", a term which is similar to the "The Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle", an order of chivalry associated with Scotland - so I figured it would be okay to give the Blacks a title without a place-name (i.e. being the Duke of York or some-such). Thanks go to u/ChocolateTeapot for catching my typos and errors.

This story obliviously has a lot in common with and was greatly inspired by u/BlueRosesAtMidnight's ( /u/272385) story called "The Little Child To Lead Him" ( /s/3123443). I want to acknowledge that writer along with their story and plan on writing "Forging Futures" as a tribute to their ideas. The young girl that Harry just met, Mackenzie Lynn Williams, even takes her name from Allyn Louise Williams, her counterpart character from "Child to Lead Him".