Right, this is an updated, grammatically correct version of this chapter with no missing words and stuff. Well, its supposed to be. I am planning to get it Beta read at some point so if you spot anything, do not worry and do try to keep enjoying it. love you all. please review.

Chapter 3

"Parseltongue", Thoughts, "Normal speech", "telepathy"

When Harry woke the next day, it took him a few minutes to get his bearing and realise where he was. Upon doing so, he swore viciously and loudly. It wasn't just a weird dream, he really was here, back in time and probably stuck. His body protested as he painfully peeled it off the cold floor he was lying on. Seriously, how muddled was his mind that he didn't even think to transfigure the horrible excuse of a mattress he had slept on into a nice bed or even a sofa?

He could sense that his family was still in the house as he stretched and came out of the cupboard. To be honest, he would have found it endlessly amusing had Petunia packed up and snuck away in the middle of the night while he slept and was none the wiser. Looking into the living room, he sighed when he saw Dudley's slumped form still on the chair. He should have known that his aunt wouldn't be able to carry him up to his bed. Then again, he really shouldn't find it funny that he she just left the boy to sleep on the chair. He trudged upstairs and into the bathroom in a sleepy daze, and it was only when he was in the shower that he realised that he had no clean cloths he would want to wear. Another sigh slipped from his lips as it dawned on his that he was going to have to use his little magic to clean and transfigure what he was wearing earlier. Ever since his escape from Azkaban he was used to a certain standard of appearance when in the presence of others and he wasn't about to let that change just because he was back in time.

He didn't know how long he spent in the shower, but he was faintly aware when his aunt and nephew woke up. He ignored them though, focusing instead on the hot spray of water as a sort of massage for his sore muscles. When he realised he was turning into a prune, he finally shut off the water and towelled himself dry. With a wandless and silent scrougify, the clothes were clean, and he was slipping it on. Finally, he turned to the full-length mirror hanging behind the bathroom door and took a closer look at himself. He was incredibly small, and his features were gaunt from near starvation. The top alone looked like a dress on him, causing him to appear even more sickly than normal. The dull muted tones of the top and his glasses did nothing for his complexion either.

There was nothing he could do for the glasses at the moment, so he focused his attention on his clothes. He transfigured the top into a somewhat loose fitting black robe with silver detail and the bottoms into a matching pair of trousers with cuffs at the bottom around his ankles. Picking up one of his aunt's hairpins on the counter to his left, he also transfigured that in a nice pair of black shoes. With the limited access he had to his magic, he was quite proud of his work. He didn't look anywhere as prim and proper as a pureblood heir, but he didn't look like a scruffy rug rat either. With a nod to his reflection, he left the bathroom and wandered downstairs where his aunt was making breakfast.

She didn't say anything when she saw him which he appreciated immensely. He was still very peeved at her for not mentioning the kind of relationship she had with Vernon and even more peeved at himself for not noticing anything the first time he lived with them. Dudley was already sat at the table, his face clean, scoffing down food, but he slowed down considerably as Harry took the seat opposite him. The paper was sitting innocently on the table and he sighed when he picked it up and saw the date. 2nd of July 1990. Just a few weeks under a year before he received his Hogwarts letter. If this wasn't proof enough, he didn't know what was.

He started slightly when a plate with steaming breakfast was put down in front of him and looked up in time to see his aunt turn back towards the cooker. He wasn't going to thank her something that she should have been doing but he appreciated it non-the-less. "we will be going to London today and you will be driving. I would go alone but I do not have either muggle or wizarding money at the moment" he noticed her flinch when he mentioned wizards, but he ignored it, waiting for her reply.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" again, he took a small amount of pride in the strength behind her voice as she straightened her back and turned to him, no hint of fear in her eyes.

"No, I will find my way back. I want you to return here and pack up all of Vernon's belonging, someone will be coming to take care of it later" she flinched again at her late husband's name, but he could also see relief in her features. She nodded once before turning back to the cooker and he turned his attention to his nephew who was once again concentrating on his food. The boy had watched his father being murdered just the day before, and he didn't even have the decency to look mournful, instead he was shovelling food into his mouth like a pig. In fact, Harry was very tempted to turn in to said pig. "If I were you aunt petunia" he started, addressing his aunt but keeping his eyes on Dudley. No doubt she could see the disgust in his eyes "I would look into putting your son on a diet or seeing a doctor. All that weight cannot be good for his body at his age and I would hate to see him die at such an early age due to his eating habits" and if she bothered to listen to him, she would no doubt hear that the word was spoken with so much glee that it implied the opposite.

They ate breakfast in silence with a small amount of tension in the air. When they were done he told his aunt to leave the dishes and just get ready to leave. If they left early enough to beat the traffic, they could get to London in just about an hour. He had too much to do today to waste time waiting for her to finish the dishes. He would have apparated, but after transfiguring his outfit, he didn't have enough magic for such a feat without risking magical exhaustion. So, he settled down into a comfortable chair with the paper and a cup of tea as his aunt bustled his nephew upstairs to get ready.

Soon they were locking up the house and pulling out of the driveway. It took them about an hour and ten minutes of a tense car ride to get London and he directed his aunt to drop him of at Charing Cross road. He saw the car pull away from the corner of his eye as he straightened his clothes and stretched his sore back. He hated car rides, no matter how awesome the car was.

Arranging his hair so that it covered his scar, he adopted an air of a child that knew what he was doing and made his way into the Leaky Cauldron. It was barely midday and he could see some drunk patrons loitering around as he stared straight ahead and made his way to the back of the pub. When he came to the entrance of Diagon Alley, he let a small trickle of his magic into his fingers and tapped the brick the correct order. Watching the alley open never ceased to amaze him so he stood back with a small smile on his face and did just that for a little while, watched.

The air changed immediately he stepped into the alley. On the muggle side, the air was warm, bright and fresh, it had that haze that made you feel languid and lazy. In Diagon Alley, it was charged with magic and excitement. There were people all over the place, shopping, gossiping, and just bustling around. There were still some drunk patrons in the pub, but they were decidedly less. The sound of the floo as people came and went was also somehow comforting as he made his way out the pub and towards the Bank.

He had never been so grateful for his small form as he easily weaved his way in and out of the pub. His back automatically straightened and his head rose, his nose in the air slightly when he stepped foot in the back. Goblins didn't take any shit from anyone and responded better to those who were straight forward but sneaky and curt with them. Even if they didn't Harry wasn't the kind of person who could do sweet and nice anymore.

"I would like to speak with my account manager" his words were clear and succinct as he spoke to the first free teller he came to. The goblin looked up from what he was writing and leaned over the edge of the podium to scrutinize him. From his original timeline, he knew that the potter account manager had been Ironclaw, but he had no possible explanation for how and why he knew that, so he set his face into an impassive mask and waited.

"And who might you be?" it's mouth opened to reveal two rows of sharp teeth in parody of a smile and if he was any other ten-year-old, he might have scared but he was a bitter, jaded and insane forty-one-year-old hit wizard in his ten-years-old body. So, he just levelled the goblin with a sneer and swept his hair up to reveal his scar. He didn't want to say his name in such a crowded place, too many ears.

"Follow me" the goblin didn't spare him another glance except the slight widening of his eyes as he took in the scare before turning and striding deeper into the bank. He was very familiar with the layout of the bank because he had spent quite some time in the building sorting his life out when he broke out of Azkaban so, he didn't bother taking in the décor. He followed quietly behind the goblin till they came to an ornate mahogany door with gold inlays. He knew that the goblin nation worked in a strict hierarchy and the more money you made the nation, the higher up the ladder you moved. Ironclaw seemed to be in the same office as he was when they first met in his original timeline, of course, with the kind of money Harry made as a hit wizard, Ironclaw had moved up the system and changed offices quickly. Harry stopped when the goblin motioned for him to wait outside the door as he informed the other of his presence. "Ironclaw will see you now" Harry gave a slight nod to the departing gobbling before opening the door and striding in. That was one of the reasons he like goblins, they really didn't care who they did business with or what age they are, as long as they made money.

"Ironclaw, may your coffers never empty" Harry greeted the gruff looking goblin behind the desk traditionally.

"And may your gold ever flow Heir Potter" the goblin return, his beady eyes, looking at Harry with hidden curiosity. Harry noticed still. "How may I help you today?"

"I'm in need of a few things in fact, the most pressing being my recent awareness of my magic is being supressed. I want to get rid of this suppressant and I know that the bank has healers that can do this" Harry kept his voice hard, confident and demanding but not too demanding. He didn't want to anger the goblin nation.

"For a price"

"Of course, name your price" Harry returned, a glint in his eye. He had always enjoyed haggling with goblins. They always asked for a higher price than is required to see if the wizard in question would have the guts to haggle them.

"First, we would need to know what the suppressor is and for that you need a blood test. The price varies depending on which block it is. The blood test cost five Galleons" as if. A standard inheritance test was two Galleons and the blood test was just a more thorough form of the inheritance test at three Galleons.

"Two Galleons" he supressed a sharp grin at the startled look on the goblin's face as he challenged the price before a slow smirk took over his ugly features.

"Four Galleons"

"Three galleons, no more no less"

"You have a deal mister potter" the goblins' grin widened, and he seemed to be sitting on the very tip of his chair as Harry relaxed back into his.

"Remove the money from my trust vault" Harry instructed the still grinning goblin. From his original timeline, he knew that children's trust vault statement only started going out when they turned eleven. Prior to that time, the only way to monitor the vault was by looking at the amount deposited in it from the family vault statement. When they do start going out, they went out to the owner of the vault, the child, and the parent or magical guardian to help the child better gauge their spending on their own. So, Dumbledore would not be notified of any transaction he made from the vault today. For at least another year. By then, he planned to give Dumbledore bigger problems to worry about missing money from trust vaults.

"Of course, Heir Potter" A thin piece of parchment appeared before him as Ironclaw set down an ornate dagger beside it. "place three drops of blood onto the parchment Heir Potter".

With a nod, he picked up the dagger he was rather familiar with from his original timeline and pierced his index finger lightly. Once three drops of blood had dropped onto the piece of parchment, he stuck the finger inside his mouth to stop the bleeding and ran a small amount of magic over the blade to cleanse his blood from it. He didn't miss the slight of interest on the goblin's face at his action. Most wizard didn't bother to clean the blade of their essence, not thinking much of the goblin.

This piqued Ironclaw's curiosity even more. Who, no what was this small child with so much grace and confidence. The goblin nation has of course heard of the Boy-Who-Lived but never really cared much about wizards and their affairs. they stayed out of wizards' business most of the time and they were not about to change their tune. But this boy was turning to be even more interesting than they assumed.

They were both distracted from their musings, as the parchment started to glow. Once the glow died down, Ironclaw picked up the parchment and the look of surprise on his face is very clear. Goblins were the ultimate Slytherins, they never showed any overly expressive facial expressions. So, for Ironclaw to show such open surprise then whatever was on the parchment must be huge. To be honest, he had not done a blood test before, he just did a simple inheritance test to see if he was entitled to any other vaults to see him and his sister through for a while, so he didn't know what to expect. He took the parchment when Ironclaw handed it to him a slightly manic smile on his face and began to read:

Name:

Hadrian James potter (half-blood)

Parents:

James potter (Pure-blood)

Lily Potter nee Evans (muggle-born)

Title:

Lord of the archaic house of Mortem

Heir apparent to the royal house of Evered

Heir apparent to the most ancient house of Peverell

Heir apparent of the ancient and noble house of Slytherin

Heir apparent of the ancient and noble house of Potter

Heir to the ancient and noble house of Black

Vaults:

1,2, 10, 25, 123, 146, 234, 268, 231, 169, 364, 363, 389, 395, 398, 400, 456, 687, 698, 701

Magical abilities:

Parseltongue

Parselmagic

Natural occlumency

Natural legilimency

Animagus transformation

Magical blocks:

hoc est meum (make this mine) – 89% – Albus Dumbledore

Blood Wards – Albus Dumbledore

Blood glamour – Albus Dumbledore

Compulsion – inactive for one more year – Albus Dumbledore

The parchment went on list his properties and many other things he owned but his attention zeroed in on the first magical block. He had a mastery in both Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Dark arts. That wasn't just a magical suppressor, that was a magic siphoner. Albus Dumbledore has been stealing his magic all this time and he didn't even know about it. He was so angry that his magic exploded around him as he stood up to pace. It would have done more damage than the chair it destroyed had he had more access to his magic, but he didn't really care much in that moment.

"I want all of these off me. I don't care how much it costs" he seethed. He was so absorbed in his anger that he didn't even notice the slightly awed look on the Goblins' face. The boy was functioning on only 11% of what his magic was supposed to be at and yet he had not only managed to destroy the chair in his anger, but Ironclaw could see the deep crack in the marble floor of Gringotts. It only begs the question; how powerful would he be when the siphoner was off not to talk of when he reaches his majority.

"Of course"

Harry had barely managed to get control over himself and his magic before a female Goblin that looked just as vicious as Ironclaw walked in. She was dressed in royal blue and wore a golden necklace around her neck that showed she was a certified goblin healer. He bowed to her in respect before Ironclaw announced that her name was Mara and he was to go with her to the ritual room.

Harry himself was aware of what the ritual entailed having studied and performed it on others before, so he knew that it would not take too long. By his calculation, it should take about two hours to get all the blocks removed. His mind wandered as they walked deeper into Gringotts than most wizards got to see. He could not remember ever having this particular ritual done to his person in his original timeline, does that then mean that all of his life he had lived and functioned with 11% of his magical capabilities. He knew that Dumbledore wanted him dead, heck he even knew that the stupid prophecy was a fake, but he never even considered that the man would go as far as stealing his magic.

"Would you please remove your robes and put on these ritual robes please?" he was pulled out of his thoughts by Mara's voice. He had only ever met a female goblin once in his original time line. Her name was Medea and they worked together on a curse breaking job. They didn't keep in contact after that, but the experience had surprised him. To be honest, logically he knew that goblins had to reproduce somehow, he just never thought of the possibility of female goblins. He nodded his understanding and she turned away, so he could dress. He frowned at the scares on his body but chose to ignore it in favour of more important things. After getting changed, he followed Mara deeper into the ritual chambers.

Like most ritual chambers, this one was circular, but it was made from obsidian. A type of stone that was exclusive to the goblin nation, so exclusive in fact that most wizards didn't know about it. An alter was raised in the middle of the room where he would lay on with a rune circle drawn around it. There were eight crystals in the circle and he could see that were each sat in a seat of power for the cardinal points and element. Once the conclave entered the circle, it would close, and they would only be let out once the ritual was complete.

"Drink" Mara handed him a sapphire crystal bowl that contained a clear liquid. Purification water. It was technically a potion that worked with the magic of the ritual and would cleanse the body while the ritual magic cleansed the magic and aura. The potion had a sleeping agent in it that put the person to sleep during the ritual, because it could be quite painful. He nodded to her and downed the whole thing before making his way to the alter, already feeling dizzy.

Everybody in Gringotts felt the quake when his magic released.