Summary

One day after Harry's return to the Dursleys home and he is a wreck. He has suffered another beating at the hand of his Uncle Vernon. But what bothers him is everything that happened in the maze after the Triwizard Tournament. Voldemort returned, using his blood. His Godfather had tried to rescue him, but was killed and the killer was hailed as hero by the Minister of Magic. No one believes him when he says that Voldemort has returned. Dumbledore seemed more concerned about the politics then he did about him. He is thinking of running away. And then an opportunity comes.

The moon was shining brightly into one bedroom of Number 4 Privet Drive, and a nearly fifteen-year-old boy sat looking out the window thinking about all that had happened in the last year. Harry Potter was the goat who had tricked the Goblet of Fire into letting him play in the Triwizard Championship – so said the sheep of Hogwarts. Harry Potter was the hero who went into the maze as the leader in points just before Cedric Diggory. Harry Potter was the winner of that trophy grasping it for a tie along with Cedric Diggory. But Harry Potter was the goat again. After being an unwilling witness and participant to the Resurrection of the Dark Lord, watching his Godfather Sirius Black try to follow and rescue him, only to see him die, and then somehow getting back to the Triwizard Trophy, he was the goat again.

Harry Potter was the goat when he had tried to get them to listen. The Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge would not listen. Instead he had given the Dementor's Kiss to Bartemius Crouch Jr, rather than attempt to find out what was going on. He had dismissed Harry's claims that Voldemort was back. He dared to claim that Cedric Diggory's death had been an accident in the maze during the last challenge. He dared to claim that the Avery person that Voldemort had blasted the crucio curse on was now a hero for bringing Sirius Black down with a hex.

Even Professor Dumbledore, Harry's hero was subject to Harry's ire. The Headmaster was too worried about Fudge and politics to care how Harry was doing. He had hardly said any words to Harry after that time in the Hospital wing. On the train, Harry had to hear from Hermione and Ron again that they would be unable to write to him for the whole summer – Dumbledore's orders. Harry was sick of it.

The icing on the cake was the list of chores that Aunt Petunia had set Harry on right at the start of the summer. And when Harry hadn't been able to get the lawn clipped before dark, he had to endure the end of Uncle Vernon's belt. Harry felt that he had snapped.

Just then, a proud owl came flying across the moon and through the open window of Harry Potter's window. It landed on his desk and dropped its burden, a letter in fancy parchment. Then, without any payment, it jumped up and soared back through the window and into the night.

Harry peered down at the letter. He had thought Dumbledore had charmed the house against any and every letter from anyone. "To prevent unwanted attentions – " He had told him through Ron. He probably would have added a "My boy – " or would have if he had spoken directly to Harry. Harry reached down for the letter and immediately recognizes the crest from Gringotts.

After he opened it up, he read:

"Dear Mr. Potter,

It is with heavy hearts that we reach out to you following the death of your Godfather, Sirius Black. The Goblin nation wishes you its condolences.

The reason for this correspondence is to invite you to Gringotts bank for the reading of a secret will. Instructions were left at the bank for special measures to be taken to get this letter to you in the case of Mr. Black's passing. Please take the key below and hold it at 4pm. This is a Portkey that will take you to a secure location in the bank. It can also take you back.

We look forward to doing business with you.

Regards,

Griphook"

Harry read the letter a few times over but didn't seem to think there was anything out of the ordinary. He supposed that Dumbledore would want him to inform the Headmaster about any correspondence that made it suspiciously to him, such as this, but Harry felt that Dumbledore would insist on his remaining at his Aunt and Uncle's home. Harry was just too curious. So, he put the parchment and key in the loose board of his bedroom. Then, he continued to look out into the night sky.

The next day, Harry worked through his tasks as quickly and as thoroughly as possible, but when it seemed that Aunt Petunia would give him little respite despite all the work he had done, he took a quick bathroom break and took the key out of his pocket. Then at 4pm exactly, the portkey activated and he felt that familiar pull from his navel as the portkey took him away. Then he found himself in a large marble meeting room.

Sitting at a chair at the end of a long table was the goblin, Griphook. He had helped Harry with his finances many times before. He stood up at Harry's entry.

"Greetings, Mister Potter –" he said.

"Thank you, Master Goblin," Harry replied. "May your gold increase," Harry said. He was sure that more was usually given for that line, but he was young and just a little frightened. Griphook seemed to appreciate the gesture.

'We have some business to attend to, Mr. Potter," he said. "Please have a seat next to me."

There was a ledger along with a box with a few items in it.

"Before we begin," Griphook exclaimed, "Let me again offer you my condolences on your loss. The Goblin nation knows how much you have gone through and also about Mr. Black's innocence, and we will do whatever we can to help you."

Harry was speechless. He never had anyone offer him sympathy or such an open invitation to help.

"Thank you, Sir – " Harry replied. "Why don't we just get down to business?"

"Of course –" Griphook said motioning for Harry to sit down next to him.

"You may not be aware Mr. Potter, but your Godfather named you as the heir to the Black family." He waited as Harry heard these words. "This means that you inherit the vaults that are beneath us in the name of Black. They shall be assumed into the Potter vaults on the day you turn seventeen. Until then, we will keep them separate. You gain the Black residence, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, along with its House Elf, Kreacher. You also gain all other Black heirlooms and every item found in the house."

Harry tried his best to let this sink in. He had a home. But he wasn't sure he wanted to live in it alone. He also wasn't sure if Dumbledore would want him to leave the Dursleys – not while he was underage. But at the moment, he was tempted.

"It is important that we go to this house immediately, Mr. Potter," Griphook continued. "If you do not claim the house and the elf and all its possessions, the Black house will be inherited by another."

"Who?" Harry asked.

The Goblin replied, "That would be Draco Malfoy. He is a Black through his mother, Narcissa. Narcissa Malfoy nee' Black was your Godfather's cousin."

Harry remembered just how intermarried the purebloods of the wizarding world really were. He felt so lost and unsure. Did he really need a house? Did he want to enslave another elf? He didn't know. But he knew one thing. He couldn't let Draco have all that money and all that went with that house.

"When do we leave?" Harry asked.

Griphook, took another key out of the box at the table. "Take my hand, and we will take this portkey there immediately."

Harry reached over and held the key along with Griphook. "Portus," Griphook said, and Harry felt that pull at his navel as he suddenly found himself in a dark and forbidding home.

Harry and Griphook stood in a long dark hallway. Griphook started to walk forward and as he did a large chandelier lit up above. Harry moved to follow Griphook as they walked through the house. As they walked they came to a large imposing portrait. It was a life-sized portrait of an old stern looking woman. There were some red moth-eaten velvet curtains, and between them was the picture of the woman.

"Who are you?" the portrait said.

Griphook motioned to Harry and had him step forward. "This is Harry Potter, the godson of Sirius Black and the grandson of Dorea Black Potter. He has inherited this house at the passing of your grandson.

The woman looked intently at Harry, but Griphook made a silent motion that put the woman to sleep and then he covered the portrait up. When that was done, he turned to Harry, "Your Godfather gave us instructions on how to deal with that portrait. They were left in that box for you. Make sure you take the time to read them. The portrait is as unpleasant as the woman was in real life."

Griphook led Harry further along the hallway to a dining room, which featured a dresser holding the Black family crest and china. At the end of the hallway there were stairs to the upper floors and they were decorated with a row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall on plaques. The dining room also contained a long wooden table with chairs and hanging light fixtures.

Griphook led Harry through the dining room and below to the kitchen. He accessed it through a narrow staircase at the end of the entry hallway. The kitchen was a cavernous room with a large fireplace at one end and a large wooden table in the center with chairs on either side. Suddenly, a house elf came out of a small room connected there.

The elf had a bulbous, snout-like nose, bloodshot eyes, many folds of skin, and white hair growing out of his bat-like ears.

"Kreacher – " Griphook said in greeting.

"Yes," he said with searching eyes. "What is going on here?"

"I am here to introduce you to your new Master, Mr. Harry Potter." Griphook said.

"No!" the elf growled. "I was so certain that I would default to my rightful Mistress, Miss Belatrix Lestrange."

Griphook turned to Harry. "Now, it is up to you, Mr. Potter. You need to give the elf an order. If you don't, then what he wishes will come to pass. You will have troubles if you do not claim this elf. I can guarantee it."

"I will never work for such a filthy Muggle loving –" Kreacher started.

But Harry wasn't feeling patient. "Shut up –" he said.

Kreacher's sentence stopped instantly.

Harry looked at the elf and the house around him for a minute. The makings of an idea came to him. "Kreacher, clean up the kitchen and Sirius Black's bedroom. I will be arriving here later today."

Kreacher glared at Harry, but was unable to refuse the order. He popped as he went away to do his work.

"Be careful with that one, boy," Griphook said. "He will twist your words in whatever way he seems fit."

Then, he grabbed Harry's arm. "We have just a few more items to finish with at the bank."

Harry nodded, and let Griphook take him by portkey back to Gringotts.

When they returned to the same meeting room at Gringotts, Griphook had Harry sit down. He handed a folder with papers inside to Harry.

"I, Sirius Black, of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, being of sound mind and body do name Harry James Potter, my heir.

I leave Mr. Harry James Potter all the contents of the Black Family Vault. This includes every jewel, weapon, book, and of course all my galleons.

Griphook seemed to know exactly where Harry was in the letter, because he added. "Mr. Black's vault currently contains $2,562,357,210 Galleons."

Then, Harry continued reading: "I also give Mr. Harry James Potter ownership of the Black estate Number 12 Grimmauld Place."

After reading it, Harry asked. "Could I make a withdrawal from the Black vault?"

Griphook nodded. "Of course. There are no limits here as there are in the Potter vault. No one will know either." He showed a conspiratorial smile as Harry looked at him. He nodded. "Let's do it."

Harry withdrew about ten thousand galleons and then used the Portkey that Gringotts had given him to return back to Number 4 Privet Drive. It was night time and the Dursley were watching television. Uncle Vernon did not seem to hear the pop or notice anything unusual at this point.

"Where have you been, boy?" Aunt Petunia screeched.

Harry had thought to respond. "I was outside, and I fell out of the tree," but before he could Uncle Vernon shouted at him.

"Go up to bed, boy. There will be no supper for you."

Harry shrugged and headed upstairs. He had plans. Thanks to Griphook, he had an extra magic wand in his pocket that didn't have the trace and he could pick the lock in the cupboard. He wasn't staying another minute at Number 4 Privet Drive if he didn't have to. He was running away. He walked quietly up the stairs and went into his bedroom and looked out the window. He smiled when he heard the lumbering up the stairs from Uncle Vernon and the locking of the door. He knew he wouldn't be interfered with. He got his chest and everything he owned. He put it into the chest and dressed for a trip out. Then, he waited.

Two hours later as the sound of Uncle Vernon's snoring floated through the house, Harry shrunk his trunk and snuck down the stairs. Another swish of the wand had the cupboard open. He grabbed all his books and his second trunk. Then, he took out his invisibility cloak and put it on. Then, he opened the back door of Number 4 Privet Drive and left suburbia and the Dursleys forever.