Harry was jostled awake the next morning, his birthday morning, feeling stiff and cold, which, if he had been more awake, and less irritated, would have made him suspicious. But, at the moment, he was being assaulted by a rather annoying bit of fluff calling itself an owl. The aforementioned furry menace was zooming around the room, hooting to it's little heart's content, now that it had Harry's attention, before flying straight at him, and hitting his chest at full speed. Harry swayed a bit as he coughed, working air back into his lungs. The owl, Pigwidgeon, who was currently looking very dazzled, had landed in his lap. Scowling, Harry removed the card from it's leg and sent it to Hedwig's cage to sate itself and rest before heading back. There were also five other owls perched on various pieces of furniture throughout his room, watching Pig with, what Harry could only interpret as the owlish version of shame and apology.

Following some kind of preconceived order, a different owl gracefully hopped from Harry's dresser to the foot of his bed, then from their to his feet, waiting patiently for Harry to lean forward and remove the outstretched package before retreating to Hedwig's cage, sipping a bit of water and flying away. Then came the owl from one of Dudley's broken-toy shelves, and the shelve of books Dudley refused to read, including various textbooks. Still another came from the broken-beyond-repair table in the corner. They, too, demurely offered up their cards and packages before helping themselves to a sip of water and exiting.

The last owl, an eagle owl Harry noted with mild surprise, came forth with an arrogant regality from the highest point in the room, Harry's wardrobe, another Dudley cast-off. A certain tow-headed youth came to mind at the owl's superior attitude. As it drew nearer, Harry saw a gold pendant hanging from it's neck embossed with a large, golden 'G'. Now Harry's was truly surprised. What was a Gringott's owl doing here, he thought. Only one way to find out, he answered himself, lifting a rather weighty envelope from the eagle owl's leg and watched as it soared majestically out of sight, not stopping for even a sip of water on it's way.

A flash of annoyance came, and went just as quickly, as Harry stared with only the mildest of curiosity at the unexpected delivery. With an almost casual flick of his finger, Harry broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out the large bundle of papers therein.

To: Mister Harrolden James Potter

It is my duty to inform you that, upon reaching your majority this the 31st day of July, 1996, you have been given full access to the estates of inheritance that have, to this point, been held in trust. The following papers herein are a general listing of the solid and liquid assets, as we know them, of aforementioned inheritances, as well as a general accounting of vault contents. The estates are separated by house and/or bequest party. To properly lay claim to all estates and assets herein, you must present yourself to the Head Goblin of the Inheritance Office within thirteen (13) days of this correspondence. Failure to present yourself could result in loss of inheritance. All parties for which you inherit, and the houses therein are as follows:

The Lord and Lady James Ericsson of the Noble and Ancient House Potter

included estates as follows

-The Noble and Ancient House of Potter

-The Noble house of Bonfere

-The Noble house of Dor

The Lord Peter Timothy of Pettigrew

included estates as follows

-The House of Pettigrew

-The Ancient House of Prewitt

The Lord Sirius Orion of the Noble and Ancient House of Black

Included estates as follows

-The Noble and Ancient House of Black

-The Noble and Ancient House of Hilamana

-The Noble and Ancient House of Jarhandi

-The Noble House of Ekor

The Lady and Ladess Eirena of Qushare

included estate as follows

-The Noble and Ancient House of Qushare

If there are any discrepancies in these papers or those included, please either contact your representative or contact myself. Congratulations on reaching your inheritance and have a nice day.

Chieftain Ragnok oc Mrand

Head of Inheritances

House of Lords: Liaison Office

Gringott's Wizarding Bank

British Isles Branch

Harry hadn't even gotten to the many packets of additional papers from the inheritance office and his head was already reeling. The seemingly straightforward missive raised more questions than he thought possible, not the least of which, how the owl had gotten through to him in the first place? (He had decided upon first starting the letter, not to even bother with the issue of names.) Dumbledore had been very specific about him only getting owls from a select few and only today. Though Harry had protested vehemently, his arguments had fallen on seemingly deaf ears. All he had managed to accomplish was adding both Neville and Luna's names to Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid's on the list of allowable post.

He had been graciously informed that additional wards would be placed over the property and they would be keyed to drop for a few hours after dawn and then reset themselves. The Gringott's owl must've just slipped through with the rest of his birthday mail.

Though the thought of these restrictions usually left him seething, this morning he was feeling surprisingly numb, almost cold. Not even the prospect of missives from his friends could raise more than a faint smile. Which brought him back to the letter from Gringott's.

He felt his smile turn decidedly cold at the knowledge, here, in plain black and white, that that treacherous little rat had bequeathed his estate to the very child that had defeated his master. The fact that Voldemort's defeat at his infantile hands had not only left him leaderless, but penniless as well, seemed fitting. He just wished that blasted rodent were really dead, along with the crazed bitch Lestrange, instead of just presumed dead.

The thought of his parents' estate brought mixed feelings. On one hand, it was nice to know that the vault money, extensive though it was, wasn't only he had from them directly. And he also spared a passing thought of the security and freedom it could bring. If he had learned nothing else from the Malfoy's, it was that even freedom wasn't free. But it also made him wonder why no one, especially Dumbledore, had mentioned that his parents had left him a legacy? He hadn't even known that his parents had left a will, not to mention Sirius' or Peter's wills. And if Sirius' will was already being executed and he was, apparently, the main beneficiary, shouldn't he have heard of it, at least? Let alone been present?

Harry's faith in Dumbledore had been radically shaken these past few months, but he still hesitated to think that even Dumbledore would keep something like this from him. He couldn't be the person referenced as his representative, could he? I mean, even though he had taken Harry under his wing, acted as his mentor, protected him, in actuality, he was still only his headmaster. He wasn't his legal guardian. It wasn't as if he was obligated to tell Harry things he should already know, or explain the ins and outs of a system he had supposedly been born into. But he knew that the Dursley's didn't know that the Potters had money, let alone the legal process of accessing it, because his trust fund wouldn't have survived their avarice.

But Dumbledore had taken Harry under his wing. He had acted as his mentor. He had seemed to protect him. So, knowing how keen he was to know everything of his parents, and knowing that the Dursley's told him nothing but lies, why hadn't the Headmaster informed him, himself?

Deciding to turn his mind toward, hopefully, less confusing matters, Harry put aside the letter, mind-boggling contents returned to their envelope, and dug until he found Ron's letter and the Weasley's package. He set the package down to examine after he read the letter already in hand. His eyes widened a bit as his thumb made contact with the parchment directly below the crest of House of Weasley pressed into the wax seal. A burst of hot magic captured his finger, pressing slightly, before letting go shortly thereafter, satisfied as to his identity.

Even more surprising, was his own recognition of the spell. When he, Ron, and Hermione had been trying to find a way to communicate with the members of the D.A., this identity / privacy spell had come up, but they decided that owling was too obvious, simple paper too easily removed. Besides, if someone else tried to open and read the letter and couldn't, it would look suspicious for all of them.

The spell used two points to identify a person: blood and magical signature, which made the spell borderline dark magic. The fact that Ron had used it, never-the-less using it on what was supposed to be a simple birthday letter was more than a bit surprising. Also was the fact that it got through the wards baring a potentially dangerous spell. It could've been a pre-curser to a port key, after all.

Setting yet more questions aside determinedly, he opened the letter and read;

Hey Mate,
I know that Dumbledore told us not to owl you, for your safety and all, but I really don't think you should be left alone, at least not completely. So, I did send you some post, even if it did come back undelivered. They were open, though, so it makes me wonder.
I wish you were here, mate, if only so you could sit with me while we both brood!
I've been thinking lately, ya know, about everythin' we've gone through. I haven't always been the best friend, have i? To caught up in trying to be a good Gryffindor to think for my bloody self and be a good person, I say, thought I talked to Dad about it, between angsty brooding, of course, and he said i just needed the chance to grow up. Guess I did. I can remember all those things so clearly, mate, but when i think back on it, i could never remember them with this much clarity before. At first, i thought i was just imaginin' it, but my dreams are getting clearer, and less scary. I think I'm even starting to tolerate spiders now! I just wonder why the memories are so clear now? Even Gin's noticed it with her own memories!
And it's not just that. I've never been one to be really suspicious, but growing up with Forge and Gred as brothers, you learn not to be exactly trusting either, or to judge too quickly. You know they always look more innocent the guiltier they are, but I've been so quick to judge everything. That was alright at first, but I'm usually not that clumsy. I know i have a temper, but i can usually see when I'm wrong. I used to wonder why gin fussed at me so much last year. It wasn't her, it was me. I usually know how to bow our gracefully, or try. I've played enough chess to figure that, at least. Even if i don't want to admit it!

But bloody hell, I knew Blaise before i came to Hogwarts through the Ministry and our dads and i blew him off because he's a Slytherin. I even promised him i wouldn't! We weren't best friends, but we could've been really good ones. It's all so confusing, mate. I don't know what to think. It's like i don't even know myself anymore. I worry about how much i changed. Was it on purpose? Did someone do this to me? Has Ginny changed more than natural and I didn't notice or her me? If so, did they do it to all of us? You, Hermione, my family? Are me and Gin the only ones? If so, why?
Is it wrong that we're so paranoid now, mate? I'm even starting to wonder about Dumbledore now and how he's always treated you, like some kind of valuable prize, indulgent-like, or is that just me? We've always gotten away with so much, unless Snape caught us. Was that fair? Bloody Merlin, was Snape right all these years? Frightenin thought. And how come all the things you got away with always ended up putting you in danger? You're a person, Harry. Why can't most anybody see that, but us? Why can't they see you just want to be treated like a normal wizard? Why can't they just leave you be?
Look, mate. I respect Dumbledore and all, but if having so many siblings has taught me anything, it's taught me that you have to make up your own mind, live your own life. I learned the hard way that trying to live through someone else isn't living at all. I used to want your life, but this past year has taught me that what i want is a life of my own. Don't get me wrong, you're my brother, you're family and if you ever need us, we'll be there, at least me and Gin will. She's watching me write this and she agrees. Where you go, we go. You need a hand, we're there. But that doesn't mean we want to live through you, or envy you, not anymore. Everyone has tough times, Dad says, but even he agrees that yours are tougher than most. We're with you Harry. Always. We just want you to have a chance to live your life how you want, no apologies or exceptions.
Now that i can look back completely on our years at Hogwarts, along with Gin, of course, we wonder if you've ever been allowed to be completely yourself, no matter who that is. We don't rightly know. It makes us wonder how much we know you. If you want to, maybe you can let us find out once we're back at school.

Your Family,
Ron and Ginny

P.S.- Dad says there's a meeting at the House of Lords. Nothing major, just the first of the fall season Wizengamot meetings. He says it's two weeks before school starts and he's gonna take you, then back to the burrow for the rest of the vacation. Before this, I asked if you could come and Dumbledore blew me off. I don't think Dad told him you were coming, mate. Just thought you should have a heads up, mate.

Though Harry had always been seen as the epitome of rash Gryffindor courage, the last few months, especially the Department of Mysteries incident had taught him to appreciate the instincts and perceptions that had made the hat consider putting him in Slytherin. He had had to admit that if he had allowed himself to use Slytherin calculations instead of hiding behind brash Gryffindor bravado, and the image he had always felt needed to be projected, he may have been able to avoid the whole disaster, not to mention the several before it.

So self-examination and doubt weren't new to him, neither were the weird flashbacks and odd bursts of crystal clear, yet impossible, memories, which he had written of 'til now. Though the thought of someone tampering not only with his mind, but the minds of people he cared about was frightening, he decided to come that when he had to. Besides, it wouldn't surprise him, at this point, and there was nothing he could do hear.

What did surprise him, however, was the careful, almost Slytherin-like letter, and from Ron, no less. If there was anyone more Gryffindor than Harry acted, it was Ron. But the almost paranoid privacy measures, as well as the slightly careful hints dropped about his suspicions about their years at Hogwarts, in general, and Dumbledore in particular, shocked Harry.

He knew his best friend's family nearly worshipped Dumbledore. To even consider him in a suspicious manner took a great deal of maturity and strength of character for both of them, especially Ginny. Apparently, the Department of Mysteries had changed both of them as well.

Several things about the years they had shared at Hogwarts didn't add up, had never really added up, for Harry. The fact that Dumbledore hadn't suspected a thing about Quirrel when even Snape suspected. And if Snape was harassing Quirrel on his orders, then why didn't he keep a closer eye on them? He knew everything else that went on in the castle. Hermione had found an obscure passage in an outdated copy of Hogwarts: A History, the told of how all the Headmasters and Headmistresses were tied directly into the wards, for added protection. So how had three first years gotten past him so easily? And how had he managed to get there just in time to be too late?

Second year brought the Chamber of Secrets. Supposedly, there were alarms around the school to warn of such dangers as Basilisks, but none had sounded when the chamber was opened, not the first, or the last. It had taken Hermione to even figure out what the creature was. How had she figured it out when Dumbledore, who'd had fifty years and considerably more resources hadn't? How had such a thing, obviously dark magic, made it beyond the supposedly impenetrable dark arts wards? Even if the chamber was protected from such protections, the rest of the castle wasn't. Not to mention the fact that, even though Hagrid had finally been exonerated, he still hadn't had the opportunity to continue his wizarding education, or even get his wand repaired or replaced.

Third year saw a possibly dangerous convict and escaped prisoner at Gryffindor tower itself. Apparently, anyone can sneak onto and off of the school grounds. The dementors not withstanding, of course. And it hadn't been missed that no one had been properly warned of their coming. What if, like most sane parents, they hadn't wanted their child near such creatures? It would already be too late to start them at another school. It had also become clear that year that the Ministry had little control over the dementors. Only Dumbledore's strong magical presence had ensured the students' safety, though barely. Not to mention the evidence of corruption that Malfoy's little stunt with buckbeak had made so evident. He didn't even want to think about the huge gap in security the tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack continued to be, to this day.

Fourth year brought the Tri-wizard Tournament. Dumbledore had made it abundantly clear that no one under a certain age was permitted to enter, yet when his name had be spat from the Goblet, was he withdrawn? Was he made to conform to the same rules as everyone else? Was an investigation even launched to find out how his name had come to be in the Goblet at all? Of course not. They just blithely let him risk his life for what was supposed to be no more than a challenging contest, but turned out to be a plan of execution, namely his. Though it had been brilliantly done, he couldn't help but wish it had been done to someone other than himself and poor Diggory.

Then, there was the glaring eyesore that had been him Fifth year. The silent treatment, the news blackout, the abomination that was Kreacher, the horror of Sirius' imprisonment, and in his own home, no less. The strange and violent nightmares, the doomed occlumency lessons, that toad Umbridge and her blasted blood-quill, slick Malfoy and his Inquisitor's Squad. The embarrassment of Trelawney and the relief that was a clan-less Firenze, the incredulous of Grawp's presence, and the terror of Sirius' capture. The blessing of Hermione's brilliance and a mad dash of the backs of Thestrals. The sick fear of facing Death Eaters, and fierce pride at the courage of friends. The sharp stab of Sirius' fall and the hot flush of new hate. The blurred fury of running after Bellatrix and the fierce disappointment of a failed beginners' Crucio. The false calm of possession, the fierce love for a protector, the pain of being free again. The haze of returning to the castle, the sharp clarity of Dumbledore's office. The twinkle less blue of Dumbledore's eyes as his memory ripped Harry's world apart all over again. The sharp twist of something inside him crumbling as his magic is set free and the fierce satisfaction of justified destruction.

Out of all that, the hardest, was the look in Dumbledore's eyes when Harry had finally tired himself out. There was sorrow there, but not for all the things his ignorance had wrought, not for the year of uncertainty and pain and his part in it. The sorrow was for the boy he thought Harry had been and no longer could be. He just didn't seem to realize that The-Boy-Who-Lived had never existed.