Author's Notation: This is an author's note (Duh), as I need some pointers with how to make my stories better. I'm still a relatively new writer, so try not to flame my stories if they aren't that great. Practice makes perfect, doesn't it? Anyways, back to the AN: I'm not sure how I should lead this story. Right now, I am simply "Going with the flow", if you will. No definite plot-line. I know, it's not a very efficient way to write stories, but for me I'm more of a act-first-think-later sort of guy. So... I'm gonna turn to the readers of this story! Perhaps any suggestions or how you want the story to go? I try to make my stories as original as I can, and I have not yet found a story quite like the one I am thinking of right now. I also try to follow the original stories as much as I can (Canon), so it may take a bit long to post some chapters. I'm prone to writer's block. Sorry, I'm rambling. Basically, It would be greatly appreciated if you could leave any feedback to help in the reviews. Now, on with the story.

Story Summary: The famed alchemist, Nicholas Flamel, leaves Harry Potter his fortune in hopes of creating his sort-of heir after his death.

|INFORMATION|

Pairings: So far, undecided. Major characters are still young, so lots of wiggle room.

Main Characters (In Current Chapter): Harry Potter

Lime/Lemon Content (In Current Chapter): None.

Current Time/Era: 1996 to 'Undecided'

Current Place/Residence: Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Great Britain.

Pre-Chapter Information: Because Harry Potter rescued his stone from the clutches of Voldemort four years ago, Nicholas Flamel feels indebted to Harry. He leaves behind the Flamel Fortune to Harry, in hopes of showing his appreciation. This has many consequences to Harry's future.


'Kill the spare...'

'Avada Kedavra!'

'Flesh of the servant...'

'Crucio!'

'Blood of the enemy...'

'Expelliarmus!'

'Your father's coming...'

'Let go... let go now!'

'Kill the spare!'

'CEDRIC!'

"AAAAAAHHH!" Harry screamed, as he woke up. He checked the clock on the battered, old desk: 3:14 AM. "Bloody buggering hell!" He cursed. Why would he be awake at-

Tap Tap Tap. Tap Tap Tap! It came from the window. He looked up; there was an owl! But... Tap Tap Tap! "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Who would send him a letter at 3 AM in the morning?! He walked over to the window, opened it, snatched the letter, and slammed the window shut again, all while listening to the indignant hoots of the owl still outside. He closed the blinds.

'Ha! Serves it right, waking me up at this ungodly hour...' Harry thought. The hoots slowly faded. He decided to open the letter in the morning.

"'Night, Hedwig." Hoot.

'Kill the spare...'

'Avada Kedavra!'

'CEDRIC...'


Harry woke up in the morning with gaunt, blood-shot eyes. He went to go get his glasses, knocking something to the floor in the process. 15 seconds later, he picked up what he had knocked over, recognizing it as the letter he got yesterday. He then caught sight of his reflection in the reflective surface of the table. Merlin, he looked like a zombie.

He looked back at the letter. On the back side it read:

Haraldr James Potter
Heir Apparent to House Potter (Unclaimed)
Heir Apparent to House Black (Unclaimed)

"Haraldr?" He muttered. Well, guess it's not that far off from Harry... Now, for the second details that caught his eye.

Heir apparent? Houses? "I'll get back to that later," He decided, "It might be explained in the letter."

Flipping to the front side, what he read confused him more.

Gringotts Owl Delivery System (G.O.D.S.)
Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, Smallest Bedroom

Gringotts? The wizarding bank? Why would they-

Summons to the Last Will and Testament of Nicholas Flamel
Summons to the
Last Will and Testament of Perenelle Flamel

He had a flashback to the end of first year:

"They have enough left to set their priorities in order..."

Harry suddenly realized that he would have a not-so-normal summer this year.


Dear Mr. Potter,
You are hereby summoned to the last will and testament of Lord and Lady Flamel, Of the
Noble and Ancient Houses of Flamel. Please arrive at Gringotts Wizarding Bank at 1600 on
July Twenty-Second, and bring the badge enclosed within as a sign of proof. for any questions
or comments, please send an Owl with this letter to Gringotts Support Center, UK.

Sincerest Regards,
Sharpsteel,

Head of Steel Family Clan
Senior Staff-Goblin of Gringotts
Leader of Ancestry Department

~DO NOT INFORM ANYONE ABOUT THIS MEETING~

Wait... Gringotts has a support center?

He smacked himself; think about that later. Now, the headmaster had told him, back in first year - He shivered as he remembered those cold, red eyes on the back of Quirrel's head - that the Flamels had just enough elixir of life left to "set their priorities in order." Guess they ran out of elixir now.

"You'd think it would've been sooner," He whispered to himself, "They could've made a new stone in the four years they had."

He wondered why they didn't. Maybe they didn't have enough time? Or did they really want to pass away peacefully? The bigger question was what did he have anything to do with the Flamels' will? Sure, he'd saved the stone during his first year, but he's never even met them in person! Perhaps they were leaving him a note of thanks, or something else like that.

Yeah. Just a note of thanks. Well, there's no use in worrying about it now. Just go to Gringotts and go back out. Real simple.

Of course, first he had to get through the rest of the Summer.

Oh boy... this would not end well for the French.


It wasn't like Harry went actively looking for trouble... It just seemed to be naturally attracted to him; like that time he accidentally impaled himself with a dagger he found in the ground while helping Aunt Petunia dig a hole for another tree in the backyard, or when Uncle Vernon had taken him to the shark pool for Dudley's birthday - "We can't leave the freak at home alone!" - and he had ended up soaking wet and swimming with the sharks.

Professor McGonagall was right; he was an abundance of "sheer dumb luck". In fact, it was a wonder that it had not run out yet.

Although it the times had seemed bleak at some point, he was always able to bounce back.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

Voldemort had returned to physical form. It wasn't just a game anymore. He wasn't that little first-year who couldn't get the professors to believe him when he told them that someone was after the Philosopher's stone. He wasn't the naive child anymore. Sometimes, people have to change, in order to survive.

He wasn't the innocent little boy anymore.

And even the smallest of things can make the biggest of differences.

"Hopefully this will end up being something good, and not end in disaster. For once in my life, I hope..." Harry mused.


Alright, let's see just how many reviews/favorites I can get on this story. Sorry I haven't updated much (at all) on my other stories, but the end of the school year is always the most hectic part. I'll try to update more frequently from now on however, as I have much more free time. Feel free to leave behind comments, suggestions, anything; constructive criticism is always welcome. It's always nice to hear the opinions of the readers.