Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Chapter 1: The Heir's Choice

Harry James Potter was having trouble sleeping.
He'd been having this problem since Sirius' death. In fact, he hadn't slept a wink over three hours in a single night for over a month. And he had not been contacted in any way by his friends, which only cemented his closely guarded belief that they were no smaller sheep than Malfoy. The difference lay in the shepherd. And right now, Harry was not happy with either of them. In fact he wasn't happy with pretty much anyone in the wizarding world, except Remus, Tonks, and the cool Weasleys (Bill, Charlie and the twins). And he didn't know anyone in the bloody Muggle world, so it was fair to say he was pretty much pissed with nearly everyone he knew.
He was suspicious of the Wizarding World's idea of mental health. At fourteen, he'd seen a murder. He'd also committed murder at eleven, been abused since he was one or two years old, and he had been subjected to the loss of his Godfather at fifteen, just a month and a half earlier. Heel, he'd been warned of the prophecy almost immediately after that, and he couldn't even count the amount of times he'd been in mortal danger. Safest place in the world, indeed. And to cap it off, he'd been forced to compete in a tournament meant for wizards and witches far more qualified than him, and had only gotten hatred out of it. Worse, he'd been tortured and socially ostracized and vilified, even slandered by his own incompetent government this year... which had started with the same government trying to kill him, and then almost expelling him for not dying.
And through all this, he had never seen head or tail of a shrink or any kind of professional help. And there hadn't even been consequences for anyone involved unless they'd already been killed! He was the freaking boy-who-lived and he had been more attacked by his government and people than anyone else! Thank Merlin he had been wise enough to pretend to just be a reckless, stupid Gryffindor. Who knew what would have happened if he'd let his mask slip.
Harry was far more Slytherin (and surprisingly Ravenclaw) than everyone ever knew. And he hated having to pretend to have a half a Hufflepuff in him. All an act, as he was determined, but not at all friendly, and his loyalty was far more difficult to earn than he pretended. He considered Neville a true friend, but no others. Hermione was... Hermione was Hermione. His excuse for having good grades, and an insufferable arrogant, moralist and bossy know-it-all. And of course, not half as clever as she thought.
Ron was someone that completely repelled Harry and had for four years now, but he had unfortunately been his first acquaintance, and Draco had also rubbed him the wrong way right off the bat, rendering him a Gryffindor with the entirety of the stigma associated. Hermione's rescue had happened when he was still relatively innocent, but it had been a huge surge of luck, for it had allowed him to have good grades without raising suspicions. Ron was just the opposite of what Harry found attractive in a friend, and was in fact almost Harry's exact opposite.
At least, Third year onward Harry. He'd lost his saving people thing during his second year, and had only rescued Ginny because he wanted to fully clear his name and because he couldn't let Hogwarts close. He was still wondering how he'd let it resurface and make him save Gabrielle, even though it had helped with his image. And he supposed it had made him get on good terms with Fleur, who he still kept in touch with. She'd been really thankful for the way he'd helped Gabrielle out of "zat horrible lake", since they had Veela blood, which meant that cold water was dangerous for them and merpeople even more so. After all, Veela were creatures of air ad fire.
Fleur was one of the few people he considered his friends. Sure, she had been a little rude when they'd first met, but then again, she had a very distrusting attitude towards all males, since few or none could resist her Veela allure, making it impossible for her to have a normal conversation with any male her age. Only after the second task had both of them discovered he was pretty much immune, unless she focused her allure exclusively on him with maximum power, and even then only because he was a hormonal male teenager looking at an incredibly beautiful seventeen year old girl. Which meant that Fleur could interact normally with him, a very rare commodity for her. Besides, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, she was half-Veela, they had similar experiences with public opinion and unwanted attention.
She was also is only friend who knew about is mask. He had taken it off for no one else. She'd been ever so fascinated with the concept of one such as him being plagued by a "saving people thing". She'd laughed for ours, but Harry knew it had only made her appreciate what he did for Gabrielle even more.
Harry almost laughed, remembering that before the Department of Mysteries catastrophe, one of the few things he'd been looking forward to was a date with Fleur that she'd forced him to agree upon after the Cho situation crashed and burned. Well, now it was difficult to look forward to anything, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to go on that date with Fleur. If they let him out of the house, it would probably be to go to headquarters or the Burrow. Either way, Molly would be there, and he was pretty sure she would try to stop him at all costs.
He was grateful that Molly had been so kind towards him over the years, no matter the reason, but she was not only a Dumbledore fanatic through and through (almost like a Bellatrix Lestrange of the Light), but also one of the biggest control freaks he had ever met. Besides, she had no problems with Muggles or their descendants, but for some reason had a similar bias against all foreigners and on-humans except Hagrid (who she still didn't like much) and Remus, who was the only reason she even tried to hide it. It rankled with Harry, after all, she was a lot like a talkative Banshee herself.
And worse, she' gotten in her head the idea that Ginny was going to be his wife and tried to kick out of his life by force any other potential romantic interest. Worse, she tried to force the idea on Ginny, and she'd even gotten the idea that Hermione would marry Ron! The two were like siblings, and besides, Ginny and Hermione had been dating for three months now... Not that Molly would ever accept it. Muggles had progressed far beyond them in social acceptance, for sure, but Molly's lack of a problem with Muggles was more on the lines animal support. To her, Muggles were like animals who did not deserve the animal cruelty displayed by Death Eaters. She was completely ignorant of the Muggle dominance of the planet. As the world stood, wizards were definitely at a disadvantage. But Molly would also never accept this.
"Maybe I should have negative thoughts more often" Harry thought as he finally felt sleep embrace him.

Harry dreamed of the night he'd met Sirius. "Weird... Normally I dream of the night he died..." He saw his first meeting with Sirius, Peter's escape, Lupin's chase, and the Dementors' attack on the shores of the Black Lake. Then he saw the time-turner and their rescue of Buckbeak the Hippogriff, and finally his defeat of the Dementors. Then he saw Andros showing up, WAIT, WHAT?! WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?!
Then Harry remembered meeting his ancestor, and reviewed his every word through the dream. Then, still shaken from the returned memory, he watched the rest of the night play out. He woke up at dawn, with a voice echoing through his mind, saying:
"From Dawn till Dusk, one day to decide you will be given. But come Nightfall, you will come before your bloodline and choose. And tomorrow at Daybreak, you will wake a man and a recognized Heir to those who came before you. Good Luck."

Harry stood in his bedroom, still reeling from his dream and the warning that came after. One day... ONE DAY?! People could take YEARS to make such a choice! How was he expected to reach it in a day?! He couldn't even learn Occlumency...
WAIT!
THAT'S IT!
Occlumency was the art of defending your mind through complete mastery of it, which was also great for memory recall and information processing, as well as heightened reflexes through elimination of redundant processing. But essentially, it was mastery over oneself that required perfect control and knowledge of oneself. If his answer, his choice, could ever be reached, it would be through Occlumency.
On the other hand, he pretty much sucked at Occlumency. But that had been Snape's class, which was focused on its interaction with Legillimency. Meaning, in defending his mind. But that wasn't his goal. Instead, his goal this time was to know himself. To know whether he would choose Darkness or Light. Neither sounded appealing.
Darkness wasn't appealing because, while he wasn't a good, innocent kid without sin, he certainly wasn't evil or cruel, and he couldn't understand sadism. Sure, hurting those who had hurt him he could understand, but random bouts of torture? Unpleasant, unnecessary and bad for his image.
Light was just as inconvenient. He had no patience for the sheep, and if he didn't have a public image to protect he would send them all to hell. For all he cared, the wizarding world could burn to ashes and he wouldn't piss on it. Besides, if he chose to fight in the war, he would have to use more tools than what the Light condoned. Winning a war with stunners? How daft were they? People died. And in a war, people killed. He didn't LIKE to kill, but he understood the necessity, and if it had to be done, he would do it.
Maybe he could just go Muggle...
No, bad idea, they might find him anyway, either the old creep, the zombie creep or both. Occlumency it was, then.

Harry stood inside the public library in Surrey, with a couple of books on meditation in front of him. His idea was to use his magical core to reach his mind, and use meditation to reach his magical core. It was in a very rudimentary phase, but then again, most of his plans never had a chance to go past "rudimentary".
So far, he hadn't had much success, and it was almost lunch time. He really needed to speed this up... There! Might as well try.
He tried a new breeding technique, and to his great surprise, found his eyes were closing and he falling within himself. "NOW? I've been trying for two hours and my breathing is what was wrong? Unbelievable..."
He saw a sphere of pure white, with currents of gold, red, blue and green all around it. And in one corner, a black spot that too the shape of a lightning bolt. The surprise was he size. It dwarfed Harry, since it was pretty much the size of the Hogwarts Grounds and surrounding woods and lake, and this was the diameter. Then he saw three tethers. One left from the black spot, and he couldn't see where it led. Another led to what he could see was his body, and one other led to his mind... Or at least he thought so.
Two tings worried him. The tether between his mind and his magical core was wide and thick, strong as could be. But the tether between his core and his body was incredibly thin and frail, like a tiny water stream in the rocks next to the Amazon that was the Mind-Core tether. Also, that black spot... and its tether... could it be that he had just found his connection to Voldemort?
He had a huge core. Hermione had once ranted (while reading up on Occlumency, since he was having lessons with Snape) about how an average person's core looked about as big as shack, with the abnormally strong wizard having one as big as the Burrow. Dumbledore was thought to have one as big as the Black Lake and Voldemort's core to be only slightly larger.
Which meant that Harry was stronger than they would be if their cores were multiplied by the other. How could he be that strong and not show it? "Well, stupid, that might be because the connection between your body and your core is almost nonexistent. Maybe you should put your Choice on hold for a second and dedicate a couple minutes to fixing it, no?" "...Shut up."
After a minute of sarcastic internal banter, Harry tried to push magic through his tether, only to suffer incredible pain. Nothing like a Cruciatus, almost pleasant in comparison really, but still hurtful. But his tether had grown larger. "Well, this is going to hurt. But if it has to be done, it has to be done. I just wish I had some painkiller potion..."
Five minutes later, his tether was looking healthy, if not as strong as the other one. "Good enough for now. Maybe I should try to visit my mind now..."
"Hem-Hem."
"Stop imitating Um-bitch."
"Whatever gets your attention. Shouldn't you maybe focus on, well, I don't know, THE LINK TO FREAKING VOLDEMORT IN YOUR CORE?! Not that it's important or anything, just thought you might find it noteworthy."
"...Again, shut up." Sometimes, Harry hated himself. He was such a sarcastic, condescending dick.
With horror, Harry realized he was starting to take after Snape. Then, Snape was becoming more and more understandable to him. He didn't like the student's either, and he had no patience for fools. Harry's only problem with Snape was Snape's problem with him because of his dad. And Sirius, but Sirius was more than understandable. He had almost gotten Snape killed, after all, and Harry himself wasn't too forgiving. Fleur he forgave because he understood her and she him beyond anyone else, and he hadn't actually forgiven Ron, he was just a good actor who couldn't afford the image he put out (especially Dumbledore, who no doubt used him as a spy) by not forgiving him. He had already pushed it as far as he dared.
Focusing on the problem at hand once more, he looked closer at the tether. He tried to manipulate it, only to find that he could actually move the dark spot. The tether followed. Then he tried to see inside the dark spot. There he found a number of memories of Dark Magic, Legillimency and Parseltongue. He also found out through these memories that he couldn't be a Parselmouth because of his connection to Voldemort. He also found that originally, Parseltongue was used for incredibly powerful healing magic, as well as Shadow and Water manipulation. The first Parselmouth had been Aesculapius, known to the Muggles as a Greek God of Medicine.
"And Andros' ancestor, young one"
Damn, that was creepy! Bu that certainly explained why he could talk to snakes. And according to Voldemort's research, the older the ancestry, the more powerful the gift was. He had theorized that a descendant of Aesculapius could probably talk to Dragons and read and write Parselscript, as well as use the legendary healer's skills in healing and elemental magic, all through the gift of Parseltongue.
Harry reasoned that he could later access his own memories of looking through Voldemort's, so he decided that he didn't want to make his Choice with Voldemort's influence weighing down upon him. It was time to cut their connection loose and separate their minds for good.
Harry picked up the dark spot with a look of repugnance on his face. Touching it was all he needed to do to know that its very existence was wrong. Nothing that felt like that could be natural or right. This thing was an abomination he needed to destroy. He didn't want it in him another second!
He tried to leave his core, but the thing in is hands didn't want to leave. It weighed down upon him, trying to escape his hold, hardening the barrier that ended is core, sending pain across his entire body (which was technically in his mind, where he wasn't... It was too confusing, he didn't know the particulars), but Harry wanted it gone, and despite the exhaustion and the pain, he violently threw it out of his core, dissolving the tether and causing the thing to release an inhuman screech before dissolving.

Harry came out of his trance, too exhausted to maintain it. Looking at the clock in the Library wall, he realized it had been two hours since he started his trance. "Right, Voldemort's memories, that's what did it. Must have lost track of time. I'm lucky I didn't lose any more time."
It was lunch time, but Harry didn't go to the Dursleys'. They'd be pissed he hadn't made breakfast, and besides, he didn't have the patience to deal with his boneheaded relatives. He'd left with twenty pounds and ten galleons, he'd make do. But he didn't want to enter the wizarding world, because he was sure Dumbledore had spies everywhere that could easily and would happily tell him that the Potter brat had escaped.
He left the Library and had lunch in a nice American diner, where he ate a bloody raw steak with French fries and flirted with the cute waitress, who was only a couple years older than him. One of the few good things about spending the summer with the Dursleys was that he could let some of his mask slip, and one of the things he kept well hidden in the wizarding world was that he'd been a shameless flirt ever since he was 13, but only because in the Muggle world no one knew him. He had no problem with feminine interest when the Boy-Who-Lived stigma wasn't there.
Leaving the diner and heading wherever his feet led him, thinking of a place to meditate so he could make his Choice before Nightfall, he failed to notice an eagle tailing him, waiting for him to be isolated so she could deliver her message. She didn't have to wait long, as he soon found himself sitting on a bench in a public park, with no one in sight. The place just felt right.
Before he could start meditating, though, a black and white, regal looking eagle, with a gigantic beak and wingspan, approached him and landed on the edge of the bench. Harry stared dumbstruck at the intimidating raptor, having the distinct impression that particular species wasn't found in England, or the rest of the British Isles for that matter, outside of a zoo. A really good zoo.
Then he saw the crest in the scroll attached to her enormous leg. A cornucopia spiting golden gallons, with crossed great swords behind it, superimposed upon an exploding volcano on top of an anvil. That was Gringotts' crest, the crest of the nation of some of the greatest smiths, warriors and business "men" in the world.
While cautiously looking at the eagle, with whom he felt an odd familiarity, he removed the scroll from her leg. Then he opened it and read its contents, after looking around to make sure no one was around to investigate the bizarre occurrence. The scroll was uncommon, as even the wizarding world had progressed to envelopes, but he guessed this was the bank's way of being extra formal.

"Esteemed Heir Potter,
Our fondest greetings. Gringotts would like to extend you an invitation to attend the reading of Lord Sirius Orion Black, as not only a member of the Black House through you paternal grandmother Dorea Juliana Potter nee Black, but also Appointed Heir of his late Lordship Sirius Orion Black.
The will reading will occur right here at Gringotts' branch in Diagon Alley, at noon tomorrow. At eleven thirty, this letter will become a portkey to Gringotts, which can be activated with the sentence: "Black as starless night.". We expect your presence and hereby extend our deepest condolences for your loss. Lord Black was very popular here at Gringotts due to his snarky and direct character. He will be deeply missed, and as his Heir and one of our most esteemed clients, you may ask of us anything you need to help you in this time of grief and crisis.
This letter finds you later than we would like, as Dumbledore has done his very worst to attempt to keep this information from reaching you. For this, we are contemplating banishing him and future descendants (but not his brother Aberforth, who is a good friend and not half as foolish) from the bank. We thought you might like to know all this.
Hoping to see you tomorrow at noon,
British Isles Director and Archduke Ragnarok Steelburn,
Diagon Alley Britain Branch Overseer and Countess Karnataka Cogwheel
Black Account Manager and Baron Grok Snakebite

-Well, my predator friend... I sure as Hell didn't see that one coming, that's for sure.
Harry realized he was talking to the eagle, who in turn seemed quite amused, but couldn't see how they'd developed such familiarity. Sure, he'd done it with Hedwig (who didn't seem quite as clever as this bird), but only after months. It was like he'd always known this damn bird, but he was positive they'd never bloody met!
Too confusing, he didn't have the patience. Or the time, because he only had four hour till Dusk. He decided it was best to ignore the bird(who for some reason hadn't flown away yet, looking quite busy as he carefully inspected his feathers, looking positively "Hedwigish") and meditate into his mind through his magical core (which he was starting to suspect was either actually the soul, or something that shared a REALLY deep connection with it.
Soon, his core was in front of him. Somehow, it seemed to be even larger! And given its size, if he could tell when seeing it for the second time that it was bigger, than the enlargement wasn't small. Harry realized that it was probably a consequence of severing his connection to Voldemort.
Anyway, it had no effect upon his current priority. He quickly found the Mind-Core tether and followed it to, oddly enough, a walled lake. It looked a lot like the Black Lake, only it was slightly smaller. There was a wall all around it, and between the wall and the water there was a one street town that was actually a circle around the Lake as well. From the town came four pathways to what could only be described as a hanging garden in the center of the Lake. There was a dark forest around the wall, and the Lake was deeper and blacker than the Black Lake of Hogwarts.
Harry was standing in the center of the garden. The voice that had spoken in his head earlier manifested itself once again:
"To come upon such a place as your mind... You are a box of surprises, you know? You must truly be my Heir. In here lies your answer. You just have to know where to look, and see beyond what you see."
Harry groaned. "Metaphors now?", he thought. Then he decided to get to work.

Harry was frustrated. He had only twenty minutes till Dusk, and he was no closer to discovering his choice. He knew it could be Light, and it could also be Dark. But which one? Of that, he had no clue.
The garden had housed HIS mind, with all his memories and skills and emotions. What was deeper in the mind-scape, he had no idea. When he'd tried to approach the bridges, the voice had lightly scolded him and told him that that wasn't his and was off-limits until his Choice had been made. But from the look of things, it wouldn't get made!
His memories (contained in different plots of plants) had showed his potential for Light, but also his potential for Darkness. And they were both as strong. There was no edge. No nothing. He was balanced. Sure, he had a little more tendency towards Darkness, but less control over his Light than his Darkness (as evidenced by his "saving people thing")... Which left him back in square one. He remembered something he'd asked of his ancestor Andros ("who must be the voice", Harry thought") back in third year: "Why do I get the feeling you chose neither?"
There was something there, but what? WHAT?!
"Oh, fine. If you really need a clue, what time of day is it here?"
Harry looked up, confused by the question. It was dusk, or dawn, whichever. For some reason, he couldn't tell which one. He told the voice so (while feeling like an idiot for talking to the air). The voice, sounding exasperated, asked what time of day it had been when he'd arrived. Harry then realized the sky had been like this since he'd arrived.
The voice sounded bored, but asked one last time "What does that tell you?"
Harry could have banged his face against a wall right about then. "Good grief, it's been staring me in the face this whole time. You know what, maybe Hermione is smarter than me... Nah, she would probably be incapable of thinking outside the box. She'd just fixate on Dark and Light and never get my choice." Harry met Nightfall in his mind-scape with an annoyed look upon his face, but without a care in the world. He knew his Choice.

Unbeknownst to him, his magic was simultaneously locking up a sphere with a radius of almost a click around him, forcing out any wizards and gently compelling all Muggles to leave and stay out. Most animals left of their own volition, but the eagle stayed, standing on the shoulder of the dormant wizard, guarding his body from whomever might come. What immediate consequences would come of Harry's choice to the world around him, only the Dawn would tell.

A/N: Well, another chapter. Bet you thought all my chapters would be as small as the last one! No, they're not, but don't expect another one so big so soon. Also, responding to an anonymous review I'd like to say that yes, J. 's name is Joanne Kathleen Rowling.

And thank you for all your support! Almost 20 followers and 15 favorites in TWO DAYS?! You guys are just awesome… Now if only more of you would review…

Who can guess the eagle species? Try to guess in the reviews! Also, if anyone has any suggestions, let me know in the reviews as well! I should be able to incorporate your ideas in the details. After all, God and the Devil hide in the details, so f*** them up or f*** with them and you're pretty much F****** with a capital "F" (like so).

The nest chapter will be called "The Heir's Legacy". It will cover the choice, Harry's ancestors and Gringotts. I'll probably have it up by the weekend. Anyway, Idovelicus over and out, read and review, please!

(P.S: And try to count how many times I used the word "review" in this author's note!)