A/N: Sorry about the long time since the last update, I've had writer's block. This chapter just did not want to cooperate. I'm not really happy with it, but I'm tired of editing it, and have chosen to move on to the next chapter instead. Constructive criticism is welcome, flaming is not.

Thank you to all the people who have read this fic so far, left comments, and of course a special thank you to those who have liked it enough to subscribe to it! :D

It was finally, finally, Wednesday, 24 July, 1991 and the almost 11 year old Harry was lying awake in the small cupboard that doubled as his bedroom. He was waiting for his aunt to come and 'wake' him so he could make breakfast for his 'relatives'.

Today was the day when the first acceptance letter from Hogwarts would arrive, and he was planning to allow it to play out more or less the same way as it had the first time, except for the part where the Dursley's found out he had gotten mail. In fact he had it all planned out in his head, but like so many other plans it would not survive contact with reality.

The difference this time was that he was prepared; he had a lot of real, authentic knowledge about his family, both the Potter family and the Evans family, instead of just the lies his aunt and her husband had always told him in order to make him feel worthless. He also knew about the magical world, both the good parts, the bad parts, and the extremely horrible things.

Harry's heartbeat sped up as he heard a door upstairs open quietly and close before the same thing happened with a second door further down the the hall. A while later he heard the tell-tale sound of feet going down the stairs above him, and he changed back into his human form before he sat up in anticipation.

Several sharp raps on the cupboard door was followed by his aunts shrill voice, "Up! Get up you lazy freak! I need you to cook breakfast, and don't you dare burn the bacon again!" The burnt bacon had, of course, been Dudley's fault, which Aunt Petunia was fully aware of, but like most things in the Dursley's household anything that went wrong was Harry's fault. It didn't matter one little bit if he was actually guilty or even present. Anything that could could be blamed on him was, as was anything the three of them were unwilling to take responsibility for.

Two low clicks were followed by another knock signifying that she had unlocked the door.

"I'm up, Aunt Petunia." He rearranged his limbs on the thin mattress that was supposed to be his bed, before he went up on bended knee so he could open the door and get out.

"Hurry up, boy! I don't have all morning." Then he heard her walking towards the kitchen. Right afterwards Harry heard his cousins heavy footsteps on the floor above walking towards the stairs and he hurried over to stove, and the waiting bacon, before Dudley could ram him into the wall on the way past. For a family claiming to be so 'normal' it was remarkable how different they were from the actual normal families.

The next 15 minutes were more or less the same as it had been the first time around; Vernon glared at him and ordered him to get a haircut, his black, unruly hair now reached about half-way between his ears and his shoulders; Vernon and Dudley demanded more food; they both had a distinct lack of table manners; and Harry and Dudley even had the argument over who should get the mail. Unsurprisingly he ended up having to get it, both to avoid his cousins Smelting's stick and to secure his Hogwarts Acceptance Letter.

After having successfully avoided his cousin's parent sanctioned bullying he walked out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to the front door where the mail had been dropped through the mail slot. His heartbeat had been increasing as he left his relatives in the other room, soon he would have his ticket out of this hellhole! Except when he neared the front door he didn't see the yellowish parchment that the Wizarding World was still using, nor did he see it when he came closer. He rapidly moved the last bit to the door before he picked up the mail from the indoor entry mat before he quickly sorted through it. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when he saw it beneath all the other mail.

Everything else from the last time around was there as well: the more modern white envelopes addressed mostly to Vernon Dursley, the brown envelope that was most likely a bill, glossy junk mail, the postcard from aunt Marge, and the day's newspaper.

The changes he had made on the sly had been many and some had even been ground-breaking, and there had been a small chance that his status as a time traveling adult in a child's body mightn't somehow have gotten him considered to be the adult he really was.

Regardless, he still had to keep up appearances with his relatives while he tried to figure which of his many plans he was going to use going forward, and so he hurried back to the kitchen his heart beating a nervous rhythm against his ribcage. Only this time he made sure to hide his newly acquired letter inside his baggy clothing before he came into view of the kitchen's occupants.

Two hours later found Harry in the garden pruning his Aunts roses. It was a boring and repetitive job, but he didn't really mind. The work was automatic to him by now and it gave him a good opportunity to mentally go through his plans, make adjustments, and generally make rough outlines of new plans or polish the existing ones. It had also given him the chance to use some of the knowledge from his Herbology classes. Yes, there were obvious differences between magical and muggle plants, but some of them were either the same or similar enough that they could be adapted for non-magical flowerbeds. Prior to the pruning he had mowed the lawn, which was even better for such things as grand plans.

The garden at Number 4, Privet Drive was the envy of the neighbourhood, which his Aunt took credit for despite the fact that everyone could clearly see Harry working with both the flowerbeds and the lawn several times as week. The additional fact that no one had ever seen Petunia Dursley even attempting to do any gardening, ordering her nephew around did not count, didn't seem to matter to her. It would become quite obvious once he left this god-forsaken place.

Unless either his Aunt or Uncle decided to start mowing the lawn or pruning the various flowers during the late Summer/early Autumn, which was highly unlikely. He laughed again at the mental image of Dudley trying to mow the lawn and collapsing in exhaustion after only a few meters.

In between the two tasks he had been able to sneak enough time to read his letter. Something he had immediately thanked his lucky star for as the letter, while mostly what he expected it to be, also included a few more details than the first time while lacking in others.

Albus Dumbledore was still headmaster and he was still listed as having an Order of Merlin, First Class, plus being a Grand Sorc. and Chf. Warlock, but the Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards part was missing. Apparently something Harry had done had gotten Dumbledore fired as the head of the ICW. Harry's face split into a huge smile for a few seconds at the implication.

However the last paragraph of the letter was changed somewhat. It still told him that term would begin on 1st September, but instead of informing him that they expected his owl no later than 31st July it said a representative for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would come to his place of residence at ten to explain and answer any questions he and his guardians might have.

The second parchment had a number of additional mandatory clothing than the original list had had, it also had a longer list of books, and under 'Other Equipment' there were several extra items such as safety goggles. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that if his Hermione was back she would be absolutely gleeful at the extra subjects which had been added to the curriculum.

The first new book on the list was Introduction to the Magical World/Introduction to the Muggle World. With any luck was written by someone, or rather several someones, who actually had first hand knowledge of the two worlds instead of the Muggle Studies book Hermione had had in Third Year. It seemed to consist mostly of outdated information and Pureblood prejudices.

The other five new books were obviously for Mathematics, English, Muggle History, and Latin. They had even managed to include a dictionary. Harry mentally gave himself 10 points. The muggle subjects were obviously mandatory, but the big questions here were; who's teaching them, were they mandatory for Second Years and onward, or would they become electives or dropped altogether?

No matter, he had obviously managed to make enough changes to seriously upgrade the extremely outdated curriculum Hogwarts had insisted on keeping for centuries. It wasn't perfect, but at least they were getting somewhere. Hopefully the upgrade included the old core subjects as well. He mentally crossed his fingers, hoping for certain teachers being exchanged for new, actually useful ones.

A few minutes to ten he heard footsteps coming down the sidewalk close to Number 4, but he didn't pay it any mind as he was physically busy with pruning and mentally occupied with trying to figure out how the new information fit into his plans and what he needed to adjust. On the plus side there would definitely be less self-study, but on the negative side there would be less free time.

His attention was redirected when he suddenly heard the footsteps turn towards the Dursley's driveway and whoever it was was coming closer to him. When he looked up he got the biggest shock in his most recent past; less than three meters away and moving closer was the diminutive form of none other than Filius Flitwick. Harry blinked, and blinked again. Nope, the Charms Professor was still there.

"May I help you, sir?" Thankfully his voice sounded only vaguely surprised rather than the mild shock he was feeling. He had been expecting Professor McGonagall to come, as in the last timeline it had been one of the duties of the Deputy Headmistress to visit the muggleborn and their families and enlighten them to the hidden Magical World. But then again, Dumbledore had sent Hagrid last time, so he wasn't complaining. Professor McGonagall versus Aunt Petunia promised to be even more entertaining, especially since he had the necessary information to understand the implied things.

Apparently one of the changes, or perhaps a series of changes, he had made over the years had caused a personal meeting with an actual professor rather than just a letter which had arrived out of the blue last time. Or perhaps it had something to do with the new subjects. Not that he minded, this would have been most helpful back then.

"Actually, Mr. Potter, I would like to speak to you and your guardians, if you have the time? I believe you received a letter earlier this morning stating that a representative from Hogwarts would be by at ten?" The little part-Goblin asked in his high squeaky voice.

"Of course, but are you really sure you want to talk to them? They're pretty rude to anyone who doesn't fit their perception of 'normal'. He asked in a dubious voice before he added, "Aunt Petunia is inside, but her husband is at work." Harry had very deliberately waited until Vernon had left for work and Dudley had gone to meet his gang before he showed his aunt the acceptance letter. Her behavior tended to be less volatile without her husband and son around.

Harry could see the professor frowning at him in slight confusion, but he had decided that at the very least giving the appearance of having good manners would go a long way. Memories of Ronald Weasley and his distinct lack of such, plus the behavior of his male relatives, had made the decision easy. He had no wish to be compared to any of them.

After a short discussion, which included some very basic information on why he was there, Harry went inside to inform Aunt Petunia that were was a professor from a boarding school outside who wanted to talk to them. Her reaction had been just as horrified as he'd expected it to be, despite the earlier warning, just as he schooled his features to show show slight surprise and confusion at her sudden anger. None the less, five minutes later there had been a part-Goblin in the Dursley's kitchen and Harry was smirking inwardly like it was going out of style.

At noon Professor Flitwick apparated Harry to the Leaky Cauldron, where they quickly walked towards the little backroom where the entrance to Diagon Alley was located. Thankfully there were no mentions of the Boy Who Lived or his curse scar, the latter Harry had made certain was covered by his hair before they left for the bar, and they were allowed to pass through to the cobblestone street on the other side.

Flitwick had explained to Harry that they would be visiting Diagon Alley just so he could go to Gringotts to get gold for his shopping, and to buy his wand. Everything else would be bought at Mystic Alley, which he explained was the main shopping street of the Neurotic Alley Shopping District.

As soon as the archway was open Harry did his best to act like the shocked and amazed almost-11 year old he had been the first time around. His eyes straying first to the cauldron shop across from the back entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, then to the various shops as they walked towards the bank. When they came to Eeylops Owl Emporium he quickly looked away; Hedwig was in there, or more likely the owl who would become his trusted familiar. Across the street was the Quidditch supply store, Quality Quidditch Supplies, where a group of boys about his own age were standing with their noses pressed against the window trying to get a good look at the new Nimbus Two Thousand.

Finally they reached the snowy-white building which towered over all the little shops. The front door was made of burnished bronze, and Harry knew there was a second pair of doors behind them with a warning written as a poem and a compulsion charm which activated every time someone read it.

Both Flitwick and Harry bowed respectfully to the goblin who stood guard outside in his scarlet and gold uniform after the magical creature bowed to them first. He pretended not to see the goblins eyes widening at the sign of respect from a wizard, and instead kept his eyes wide as he took in everything before him. Filius Flitwick had given his a crash course in how to behave while in the bank; what to say, what not to say, what not to do, and so on. It would been good to know originally.

After the second pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors, and Harry bowed back, they were suddenly inside a marble hall. More than a hundred goblins were sitting behind the counters and even more were showing people in and out of the many doors leading out of the great hall.

The two of them walked over to the counters, and once there Flitwick said something to the goblin in gobbledygook before handing over Harry's key. After the goblin examined it closely, he nodded, and said, in English, "That seems to be in order. I will have someone take you down to the vault. Griphook!"

There was no mention of vault seven hundred and thirteen, and Flitwick chose to stay in the marble hall rather than intrude in Harry's personal business. Which Harry appreciated very much. It also gave him a chance to talk to Griphook.

As he followed Griphook down the steeply sloping and narrow stone passageway Harry sought out the railway tracks he knew were there. Once they were in the cart, after the goblin guide/guard had whistled for it, they hurtled down the twists and turns which would eventually lead them to the Potter Trust Vault.

Once they were out of sight Harry grinned at the goblin.

"Greetings, Griphook. May your gold flow eternally and your enemies always be crushed by your will."

Griphook bared his teeth in what the young wizard knew passed as a smile within the goblin race.

"Greetings, Mr. Potter. May your gold flow eternally and your enemies always be crushed by your will."

"So far things have worked out pretty good on my end, are there any news from yours?"

"Mystic Alley have proven to be a valuable investment and so far your other plans have also been showing a good return."

Harry allowed himself to grin in pleasure at that. Mystic Alley had been a calculated risk, but he had been more than willing to take the chance. After several long chats with some of the goblins, they'd had to meet him in the muggle world due to his supposed age and therefore difficulty getting to London, but they had finally agreed.

Thanks to a meeting with the Potter Family Estate Manager at Gringotts, Harry had gotten a crash course in how to get around Dumbledore's manipulations of his entire life. Lily Potter nee Evans had been an independent woman, and unlike most married witches she had not merged her Personal Vault with her husband's Personal Vault, nor had she merged it with the Potter Family Vault when her in-laws were killed and she was given free access to all things Potter by James. A fact very few people had been aware of and the old coot, being a traditionalist at heart no matter what he portrayed to the public, didn't even consider that a first generation witch might want to control her own finances.

Among the paperwork in her vault was a pre-nuptial agreement which clearly stated that anything which was in Lily Potter's name, either her married name or her maiden name, would remain hers in the unlikely event Lily and James would be separated and/or divorced, and that if something were to happen to Lily it would be transferred to any children she might have. The contract was ironclad, it also made it crystal clear that the only person/people who could use and enter the vault was her and her children. Not even James had access without her explicit prior permission.

What this meant was that Harry could use the vault to fund things in the magical world. Unfortunately he couldn't withdraw smaller amounts to use for his shopping sprees nor could he exchange it for pounds. There was a large amount of gold in there, both from Lily's own investments in the magical world and because James had given her a lot of money. There also turned out to be paperwork for a normal bank account in a normal bank for her investments in the non-magical world. However he could not touch that until he turned 18. It was first and foremost earmarked for his university education in case of her untimely death.

The vault also had copies of Lily and James' marriage certificate, Harry's birth certificate, both Lily and James' Last Will and Testaments. There were two each of the birth and marriage certificates, one for the magical world and one for the muggle world. There were also various deeds, contracts, and other important paperwork/parchmentwork.

Part of the land the Neurotic Ally Shopping District was on had already belonged to the Potters, but the rest had been bought from various magical families who had shares going back centuries. In the future Harry had found parchment work which listed all the properties he owned, all the businesses he owned – both completely and partially, all heirlooms, various magical objects, and so on and so forth.

One of the properties he had owned shares in was an old, abandoned entirely magical settlement which had had its own shopping area. No one had lived there for more than four centuries and all the shops had closed decades before it was deserted. With the help of the goblins he'd bought the entire land plus some of the surrounding land owned by muggles. The last part had been more tricky, but with some give and take on both Harry's and Deathclaw's parts they had managed to come to an agreement.

Fast forward to July 1991 and it was a small but thriving area with a lot of shops owned mostly by first, second, and third generation magicals who had been unable to rent something in either Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade due to their blood status and in some cases a lack of financial support. The Decision to focus on the newer magical lines had been deliberate, both to make sure they remained in the magical world but also to ensure that there was growth somewhere in the otherwise medieval society.

In accordance with the Statute of Secrecy he had also built a large non-magical shopping center with an accompanying multi-level parking space right next to the magical district so no one would question people going to what appeared to, non-magical people to, be nowhere. Both parts seemed to be working out well so far.

He had briefly thought of naming it Magic Alley, Majestic Alley, Manic Alley, Mort Alley, or something equally egocentric, but figured it wouldn't help anything and Hermione would probably not approve. Or rather she'd give him what he'd dubbed The Look and tell him he'd been juvenile again when she found out while trying not to laugh. The thought of her reaction to that had brought a smile to his face. Her reaction to the names he had chosen remained a mystery, for now.

Harry's ownership of the Neurotic Ally Shopping District was a closely guarded secret between Harry and a few select Gringotts Goblins however, so he would need to remember to act surprised when Flitwick took him there later that day.

They reached Harry's vault and he climbed out and waited for Griphook to unlock the door. The same green smoke that had come billowing out the first time came out again and when it cleared he went inside.

He found a bag and started to fill it up with Galleons, Sickles, and even some Knuts. Last time he had only taken about 150 Galleons, which had held him over for his first and second year since he hadn't known how much money he had actually had, or what was expected of him. This time however he had no intention of looking like a pauper or have any of the cheap school things. Therefore he needed more gold. He also needed to buy a bunch of non-magical stuff. He winced inwardly at all the shopping trips he was going to have to go on in the near future.

After giving the vault a once-over and taking a walk around the inside to make sure he didn't miss anything he left, and he and Griphook went back up where the Charms Master was waiting patiently. But before they went into the cart he formally requested an audit of all of his vaults and the handling of his family estate. He also requested that he be given a list of all transactions to and from all his vaults since his parents deaths, and that all payments from his vaults were to be frozen until he had time to look it over and approve or reject them. Anyone with access to his vaults should have their access revoked.

Griphook bared his teeth again, and the two of them re-entered the cart before going back up to the main part of the bank.

20 minutes later Harry had 10, 000 pounds in cash hidden away in a magical wallet he had found in his trust vault, and Professor Flitwick was showing him the way to Ollivanders.

The shop was as narrow and shabby as ever, and when they entered a small tinkling bell announced their presence. This time though, Harry was prepared for the creepiness that was the shops owner and rather than allowing himself to be startled Harry made sure to turn around as soon as he felt his neck prickle.

"Hello," he said politely, "You must be Mr. Ollivander." The shock on the old wizards face only showed for two seconds before his face smoothed out and got his serene mystical persona back.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. You are an observant young man." Behind him Harry heard Flitwick startle and get up from the spindly chair he had sat down in.

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry, but Harry narrowed his eyes and moved backwards and to the side to avoid the other wizard. Ollivander ignored his attempt to avoid him and advanced again while he kept talking.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I saw your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

When the old man was once again to close for comfort and lifted his hand to move Harry's bangs away from his forehead in order to expose the lightning bolt shaped scar, Harry moved quickly out of the way – this time to the right rather than the left – and glared.

"Mind your manners, Mr. Ollivander. In the civilized world it's considered extremely rude to move into someones personal space without permission, especially when it's done to a complete stranger. And you do not attempt to touch them, especially not to see the scar left after a murder attempt on a child." There was steel in Harry's voice and it was clear that he found the behavior unacceptable.

He turned toward his escort, "Is this behavior indicative of the general magical population?"

"It is highly possible many will attempt to see the scar, or even demand to see it. As I explained when I picked you up this morning, you are a hero to many and they have waited for nearly a decade to see you."

Harry gave the frown that was expected of him at that reply, but truthfully he had already known the answer. Instead he asked another question.

"Is there another wand maker here?" Behind him he heard Ollivander draw in a breath, but before he had the chance to interrupt Flitwick replied.

"Unfortunately, no. At least not legally. The Ministry of Magic keeps a close eye on all wand makers in order to keep the crimes down. As registered wants are easier to track."

"I refuse to buy a wand from this creep. He clearly has no idea about personal boundaries or how to behave around children. I'm leaving. I'd rather get an illegal wand than give him any money." He said the last part as he began walking back towards the door.

"Mr. Potter! Please stop! I did not mean to offend you. I apologize."

"Not good enough. If you think it's acceptable to touch children that way you belong in prison, or possibly in a psychiatric ward, but not in a shop selling wands to children." He had turned his body half-way towards the older wizard, but turned back and kept walking as soon as he was finished and opened the door and stepped through.