A/N:

Hey guys, it's Sam. So, some of you might be wondering why did I published a new story? Well, to answer that, this story belongs to a friend Aiden936. He couldn't publish it from his own account and so he asked me to do it here.

So here we go, the very beginning of a new saga, Count Peverall.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Harry was tossing and turning in his sleep, again. Those nightmares were getting more solid and even more realistic by every night. Every time he sees the same dream, over and over again, a white naked tree bare of any traces of leaves and a castle in the background. It was so terrifying and haunting, yet it was so beautiful. The tree reeked of raw power, and the castle; it was like a fort, huge slabs and overlooking a meadow.

Green and grey, feels somehow primitive, like a power, a presence waiting to be unleashed upon the world. He recognized the tree, it was the same wood his headmaster's wand was made of. Like someone impaled seven berries with a piece of wood. The dream ended when he tried to touch the tree, such power coursing through its xylem. It was rejuvenating yet exhaustive, warm yet cool, powerful but still unreachable. Today's dream was the same, but a bit different, like it was happening right now. The fog wasn't too thick this time. It was chilling but not cold. There was the familiar fort or castle in front of him. Grey stony exterior with a tower. Like a charm, he was approaching the castle, it was the curiosity that bought him there like a moth to a flame. The gate was massive, rusty iron, and two statues stood there like sentries.

Two huge Griffin, made of stone, or rather, carved from stone, guarded the gates in their full glory. He tried to enter the griffin shaped, ironclad gate and then, someone or something called his name, barely above a whisper. A hauntingly serene voice calling him, over and over again and he couldn't see who it was. Suddenly he was back in the reality, like a port key gone off and vomited him back in the living world. The most dreaded, second hand bedroom of his cousin, who could put the wahle to shame, whose snores were penetrating the wall and vibrating against his tympanic membrane.

Damn you Dudley! Harry groaned and rubbed his eyes, the nightmare or dream whatever it was, exhausted him even more. Like he got sapped of his magical energy. He glanced at his borrowed wristwatch and deducted that it was still two hours before his aunt, Petunia would wake up. So, he stayed in his bed and started pondering about that weird dream. His friends said he broods too much over a topic, that's makes him really paranoid.

Maybe, Sirius would be proud of him.

This thought came over with a fond smile, friends, that's correct. He has some wonderful friends. Ron, Hermione, even Neville. Ginny was a bit younger, but still a friend. Now if only Sirius would take him away from here, that'd be a real treat. He wasn't welcome here.

His own aunt, blood related and the only connection to his mother, treats him like a disease. If only he had a place of his own.

Harry got up and put on his glasses. There was a blinding headache claiming his head after he woke up. He filps and checks the time in the watch; 0430, Sunday, 23rd August, 1994. One week until he returns to Hogwarts, his true home, for his fourth year. He suddenly got a feeling that today would be very exciting for him.

Harry slowly made his towards bathroom and started his morning cleanup proces, what he couldn't do while the Dursleys are awake. With every step it felt like a hammer blitzing in his head. About 10 minutes later, Harry came out from the shower, somehow relaxed . He pulled a baggy t-shirt, a jumper, and a worn looking jeans, of course hand-me-downs from that piggy Dudley.

The joy of life!

Harry's thin frame looks terrible in Dudley' bigger clothes . Silently, he moved towards the kitchen to do his chores for the day. Life in #4 Private Drive wasn't easy. His current guardians, Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley. his uncle and aunt, weren't really co- operative toward him. Of course, Dudley Dursley was raised like muggle prince.

He knew that someday he'd blast that derogative dunderhead.

He had to do work or chores around the house while the fat one was gathering more oils in his rotund stomach. He had to work very hard to earn his food and money . That's definitely not normal for a fourteen year old. He had to work like a freaking house-elf!

Aunt Petunia must have been a banshee in her previous life. Even a wizard armed with sonorus charm would lose against her.

Then there was the insults, he was good for nothing, parents and their freakiness from precious Dudder's 'game' , Harry hunting, which ends when Harry got injured or exhausted, to him and his parents being'the freaks' . Yup, life definitely wasn't easy. Some times he thought about running away, but where'd he go? He don't have place to go. he had money, of course, but he wasn't old enough to use it. His godfather was alive but on the run, from the idiotic ministry. So basically he was alone. He stopped his thoughts when the toaster vomited the breakfast material. He ate his share of Breakfast and made his relatives a pile of sandwiches and turned to the stairs to his room again. But, his bloody jinxed luck! Petunia was there, standing with her arms crossed in front of her chest. Seeing the boy trying to flee, she shrieked- "Where are you going, boy? " .

Damn! and he thought he'd avoid them today. Dejected, Harry answered being without even surprised by her sudden appearance, "Back to my room, Aunt Petunia."

The female Dursley eyed Harry suspiciously, and spoke again, "The garage has lost some of its glossy exterior, I want you to fix that before 10."

Well, not surprising at all. Harry wasn't in a good mood, both physically and mentally. The nightmare took a very high leap today and he was exhausted. But Harry being Harry, said, "Ok, Aunt petunia, I'll finish it."

So thats how, after three hours, we find the hero of the wizarding world, covered in white paint droplets, staring at his newly repainted the garage wall. Hmm, it'll be shiny when the paint would dry, not that it needed to be repainted in the first place. But his aunt insisted, he had no choice.

He wasn't in the mood today to argue with them. His reason won't make them tolerable because they won't see his reason and would lock him up in his cupboard again. One day he'll have his revenge.

His thought suddenly interrupted when a large eagle owl swooped down towards him and dropped a letter in his hand and flew to perch on a nearby tree.

Harry frowned in confusion. Who's sending him a letter? Ron and Hermione haven't got his letter yet by Hedwig, then who?' Sirius was on the run, he uses the headmaster' carefully opened the envelope , and peeked inside. There was a very elegant silver pendant, shaped like a Griffin with emerald eyes. That intrigued him the most. Why'd someone giving him a jewelry? Harry opened the letter first and started to read ...

Dear Mr. Potter,

You might be wondering who I am and what was I thinking when I sent a letter to you. I assure you that all will be explained in details, later. And I'm not a death eater if you're wondering. Any way, as the last descendant of the Peverall line, I'd like you to hold the family legacy alive. You have to accompany me to the Gringotts, but first I'd like to meet you in person. In order to do so you have to come in Peverall manor , the home of your Ancestor. I packed the portkey and family emblem in the letter, just say ' Peverall'. Safe journey, and I hope to see you here soon. Best would be before noon today.

Your faithful,

Alfred shaw

P. Secretary, Peverall estate

Harry read the letter thrice, still couldn't believe what was happening. He was the last descendant of a Ancient family! That was awesome but he never heard of the Peverall line, he knew only one place where he has seen the surname. I G Peverall, signed in a corner of his Invisibility cloak, so he was related to them? That made sense, how he inherited the cloak. And his own bloody castle! That was kind of fishy. Where were these people all those years when he suffered in this wretched household.

He glanced through the backyard window, the Dursley's enjoying each others company. like he was not even there, Bloody gits! Wherever this castle was, must be better than this awful place. If someone want to kill him, at least they'll admit it openly. Only one way to find out if this things real!.

He quickly grabbed the emblem and muttered under his breath, "Peverall. " And almost immediately, Harry felt the familiar jerked and pulling sensations in his naval region from port key travel.

He arrived at the destination, sprawled on the ground. He really hates the magical travel. When his head and body stopped spinning, he looked up and gasped at the sight. His heart started beating faster, pupils dilated, breathing hitched...

A tree, total white with no leaves stood alone in the grassland and behind it was a castle, with high boundaries and two towers. Just as same as his dream, but in reality it was huge, bigger than he thought and of course beautiful beyond words. A quick throat clearing sound of someone disturbed him from eating the scenery. It was a elderly man, maybe around his fifties, suited in well fitting robes and a humble smile upon his face.

"I've been waiting for you, Master Potter. I'm Alfred Shaw, the caretaker and Secretary of Peverall estate and I welcome you to Fort Peverall, the home of your ancestors."

Then the big creaky and rusty gate opened. Alfred told Harry to follow him and started walking towards the front door. Harry still couldn't believe that this castle was his. Alfred smiled at the gawking teenager, it was the kind of feedback he expected. Then he looked at the boy and frowned. He was way to skinny and malnourished for his age. His clothes was hideous too, and he was wearing a scratchy pair of glasses. Alfred just got his work cut out from him.

"You're a very hard man to find, Master Potter. Whichever ward was placed in your household was very powerful." Alfred started.

"Headmaster placed some blood wards around my relatives house, so I'd stay safe." Harry remembered the words of Albus Dumbledore.

"Blood wards, eh? Nasty piece of magic. Who knew Brian was capable of that kind of warding. If your magical core was any bit smaller, I never would've find you," Alfred mused. "You're a lot powerful than you think Mr. Potter." He said seeing the curious expression on Harry's face.

Harry snorted, powerful? Him? Not a chance, maybe lucky.

Alfred chuckled and said, "How much you know about someone's magical aura?"

"Magical aura?" Harry was still lost.

"Yes, Master Potter. It's the magical manifestation of your core and overall magic saturated in your body," Alfred glanced at Harry. Seeing his thoughtful look the old caretaker continued. "You're what we call a mage, Mr. Potter, whose newborn aura is higher than the most wizards," Harry grasped the content easily. But some questions popped up too. He was going to ask them when Alfred stopped him. "I'll answer all of you question Mr. Potter, but first we have to report in Gringotts."

"Okay." Harry responded.

Harry and Alfred arrived at the front door of the castle. It was impressive piece of wood. So many runes and designs carved into it. Alfred took out his wand and tapped three runes, and the massive door opened. Harry suddenly turned and faced Alfred, question in his eye.

"Only one question Mr. Shaw, what kind of tree is that outside? I've seen it before."

"Ah! That's an Elder tree, Master Potter. Very rare wood used for wand making."

With that they stepped into the front ballroom. It was royal. Harry was in the front of the royally large staircase that gone up and connected the first floor from either side of the room. Armors of medieval knights and old paintings decorated the room, there were some weapons too. The curtains were a royal purple, a huge chandelier illuminating the room. In one word, it was magnificent. Alfred suddenly returned to him with a file of papers and an olive green robe. Not that he noticed his short departure.

"We must be off, Master Potter. We're already late."

"Alright."

Alfred produced another portkey destined to the bank. Before he can say the password, Harry pelted him with another question. .

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Shaw?"

Alfred sighed. He'd have this coming for a while. "I wasn't aware of your existence until this summer, Harry. Brian never told me that James's son was here in Britain," the old caretaker explained.

"Wait! Brian means Dumbledore? Albus Dumbledore!?" Harry looked flabbergasted.

"Yes. We do know each other. We studied under Nicholas Flamel for 15 years," Alfred looked even more old now. "I thought you're in France until Sirius informed me about your existence."

"Sirius was here!?" Harry looked even more gobsmacked.

"Yes, he rode that bloody Hippogriff and crashed into my window. I thought he was a dark wizard or bloody bonkers to ride that brute." Alfred chuckled and shook his head.

"What did he said?" Harry pressed. He wanted to know why he was kept in the dark about his heritage.

"That the true heir has returned. And lo and behold, here you are standing beside me, ready to embark on a journey."

"So how did I never knew about all of this? This mage thing, Peveralls? Why keep me in the dark?"

"Don't know, Master Potter. You have to ask your magical guardian about all of this," Alfred said.

"And who is my magical guardian? It's not Sirius, is it?" Harry asked.

"Nope. I think its Brian."

"Albus Dumbledore?!" Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Yes. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who is a mage himself," with that exploding information, they both portkeyed to Gringotts. Harry just thought how he got himself in this kind of mess, the Peverall buisness, then the overcharged battery theory.

Aww god why, why can't he have a normal year for once?

Magical travels must hate Harry. Hate maybe some small word, despise would be better. Once again, the portkey spat him on the floor, again and this time he landed on his rear side, hard. He groaned and opened his eyes. Only good thing is his glass was still intact. Alfred hovered in his line of sight, amused by the scene.

"You fell again, Master Potter? "

"No, I attacked the floor," Harry said with sarcasm thick in his voice. Alfred merely raised an eyebrow.

"Backwards?"

"I'm freaking genius!" Harry said as he pulled himself up from the lobby of Gringotts. Alfred chuckled. This boy inherited the wicked sense of Lily. Now if the temper was only the same...

Gringotts was, in one word elegant, yet scary! The goblins only made it even scarier. Each one of the eyed Harry like a piece of meat, ready to be devoured. Alfred walked straight to the front table, where an grey haired goblin sat. He haven't glanced at them yet but was aware of there presence.

Goblins weren't precious to most wizards. They tend to avoid this particular magical creatures. They're seen as vicious, greedy, and very cunning species, which wasn't completely untrue. They do cheat to increase their wealth. In their word, it's fair business. In sixteenth century, their was a huge rebellion of goblins due to wizards claiming the gold and various valuable mines. Both side lost a huge number of life and money. In the end the ministry struck a peace treaty with them and started a bank to manage most old family's vast wealth. So, Gringotts was founded.

Alfred cleared his throat loudly. "We would like to visit the Peverall family chamber, Master Goblin."

The goblin didn't spare them a glance, still he asked in a hoarse voice "And who may be'we', Regent Peverall?"

Alfred knew the goblin was speaking of Harry, probably to insult him like last time. He simply answered "Harry potter, the last remaining Peverall."

The goblin slowly raised his head. Harry noted that the rest of their hosts suddenly gone very quite. Too quite.

'Not a good sign' Harry thought.

The head teller suddenly scowled at them, or was that a grin?

"Ironfoot! Take Mr. Potter and his old friend to vault 139 and take the last heir test to justify their word," then he turned to Alfred and Harry. A grinning goblin was the quite scary sight. Harry gulped, he didn't understand why the head goblin teller was smirking at them. "Lets see if the last enemy is truly death," the head teller finished.

'I feel like they just won a lottery, and the prize money is me.' Harry shivered.

So here you go. It was the first chapter for a new beginning. I hope my friend would make it to the end with it. And he needs your support for it. Make sure to hit the favorite and follow button and review will be greatly appreciated.

The next chapter would take some time so don't just hang on it.

Till the next time.