This story is a hybrid of ideas given to me by the amazing InsaneScriptist, please direct some love her way if you enjoy it.

(Although all the plotholes, typos, and spelling errors are mine, unfortunately. Editing is not my strong point!)

Starts out very Harry-centric, but will shift as the story progresses- if it progresses.

None of my muses are actually cooperating right now, I apologize for the silence.

I'm primarily a reader anyways, I don't know where all this writing nonsense is coming from.

Please enjoy this tidbit!

(Also, the summary is my worst to date. Oi vey.)

Solid Ground

Summary: Harry decides to take his destiny in his own hands and becomes his own man. This changes his fate. However, changing his fate was only the beginning, and now he has a shadow peeking over his shoulder, and this changes his shadow's fate. A lot can change when you've got your feet planted firmly on the ground, especially when there's someone there to pop your head when it starts to swell too much.

Harry Potter had done an immense amount of soul-searching and growing up since the end of his Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It was as if watching Professor Dumbledore die at the hands of Snape had irreparably shattered the little world he'd tried to hide himself in since he'd learned of magic and Voldemort and the Prophecy.

Suddenly the simmering rage that had been bubbling in the back of his mind had been quelled and he could hear himself think.

It was strange, he'd decided, to be able to think clearly after so long.

Harry had retreated to the Astronomy Tower once everyone had settled down from the attack and pondered his next course of action.

He wouldn't be coming back here, obviously. The sixteen-year-old let out a bitter laugh, the late Headmaster had apparently seen fit to settle the weight of the population of magical Britain on his shoulders, so Harry would be traipsing around the countryside looking for these Horcruxes, and now that Dumbledore was gone it was only a matter of time before Voldemort started operating brazenly.

"Harry?" Hermione called hesitantly,"Are you coming to the Feast?"

The green-eyed boy turned to his best friend and smiled, their time together had been fun, but Hermione had been jealous over a book this year when he'd had valid concerns over Malfoy being an actual Death Eater. Furthermore, there was no need to involve her on this fool's errand. "Yeah, I'm coming, Hermione."

He'd just have to stop relying on the brilliant witch and do his own legwork.

Harry was thankful for Dobby, and Sirius.

The Fidelius Charm on Number Twelve was broken, but Harry had had Dobby take his blood and smear it on the door like Sirius had instructed, so now the Wards had officially reset to Harry. The Order had freaked out, and Harry had acted clueless when they had grilled him about the Wards shifting, so according to them, Grimmauld was lost- which made it a perfect place for Harry to stash his supplies.

The little elf had managed to get Harry camping supplies and a number of things from Gringotts- including information about Sirius Black's Will, which had gotten the green eyed boy into Bellatrix LeStrange's Vault, on the off-chance that Bellatrix had been entrusted with an item, after Kreacher had been forced to inform the duo that 'R.A.B.' had been the late Regulus Black.

(Kreacher had been more than happy to track down Dung's pilfered goods as well, and since it kept the treacherous cretin busy, it made Harry happy. He hadn't entirely forgiven Kreacher just yet, but the elf had sworn loyalty because of Harry's intent to fulfill Master Regulus' last request.)

Dobby had also been busy moving portraits, (unfortunately the portrait of Sirius' mother wouldn't budge), so that they couldn't spy, as Harry had remembered the portraits reporting back to the Headmaster that night that Sirius had died and he'd learned about the Prophecy.

The elf was also taking out sums of money at regular intervals and having it converted to muggle pounds or just stowing it at Number Twelve in case Gringotts ever became inaccessible.

Harry sat in his room at Number Four and tried to plot out his next course of action.

Most of this had occurred while he was still at Hogwarts, as Harry had known that he hadn't had any time to waste. He had also snuck down to the Chamber of Secrets and nabbed a few, (disturbingly well preserved), Basilisk fangs and sent them off with Dobby, so he had a viable way to end the wretched abominations once he could get free from the Order and his Trace broke.

It wasn't that he was anti-Order, he just didn't want anyone else to die for him or because of him. He wasn't a hero, a saint, or damn messiah- he was a teenage boy who was stumbling around in the dark like an idiot with a fucking parasite in his head.

That had been an unpleasant realization.

Once he'd stripped away everything and looked at the situation clearly, it was obvious what his end was supposed to come to- death.

Figures.

He'd told his Aunt goodbye and left a note for the Order, grabbing Dobby's hand gently.

"Let's go."

The Cup and the Locket were gone. The Diary was destroyed in Second Year. Professor Dumbledore had gotten the Ring.

Harry was certain that he was a Horcrux, and that Nagini was one- so that was five.

So what was the remaining one?

It had been three days since he'd left Privet Drive- and about thirty-six hours since his majority- and he'd made sure to have the elves burn most of his clothes and things that he wouldn't be needing, just in case of tracking charms.

Time to hit the Black Library and put some Black Family tracking prevention into play.

Hedwig was not enjoying her stay at Grimmauld Place, but it was better than Number Four, so Harry hadn't heard her complain too much.

He now was warded against just about every class of tracker he could find existed, Post Owls included, so he felt safe enough to have Dobby take him across London to get decent glasses and some clothes he could move around in without tripping.

Harry had learned more in the two months that he'd been staying at Number Twelve, (only leaving long enough for self-assigned 'missions'), than he'd learned in Six Years at Hogwarts.

Of course, he had plenty of motivation- what with his face being splashed across the front page of the Prophet as 'Undesirable Number One' and everything.

The more the press vilified him, the less he felt guilty for leaving everyone behind.

Everyone had always been trying to protect him and they always died instead- it was his turn, he'd do this on his own terms.

Now, the Legend of Ravenclaw said something about a crown…..

So, Harry was pretty certain that Ravenclaw's Diadem was one of Voldemort's Horcruxes, because the man was an egomaniac like that, but Harry also had a sneaking suspicion that he'd need to think about things carefully because if Voldemort was smart he would have hidden it in Antarctica under a Fidelius Charm or something, but the man was possessive and arrogant, so it might be somewhere obvious, like Hogwarts.

Which was under Death Eater control at the moment.

Fuck.

Harry had gone to Professor Dumbledore's tomb to say his final piece, and he'd found a snitch that had apparently been left to him in the last Headmaster's Will buzzing around. Actually he'd walked right into the damn thing in a parody of his first Quidditch Match and the Resurrection Stone had popped out of the stupid thing.

(He knew this because he had been turning the Stone over in his hands and thinking about Sirius and Sirius' Shade had appeared and they'd chatted for a few minutes before Harry had forced himself to release his Godfather's spirit before he forgot that Sirius didn't belong with the living any longer.)

After that Harry had taken the Headmaster's wand on a hunch, (he'd read 'The Deathly Hallows' at Grimmauld Place, and Dumbledore had been a ridiculously powerful wizard), and had made his way up to the Castle under the Cloak.

Luna Lovegood was one of the oddest, bravest, most brilliant girls on the face of the earth and no one would ever convince him otherwise. Within minutes she had found him, (when he'd passed a half a dozen Death Eaters posing as Professors), and dragged him towards the Grey Lady.

Or, Helena Ravenclaw.

It wasn't one of Harry's most elegant conversations, but apparently whipping out a Basilisk fang and promising the Lady that she could witness the destruction was enough to grant him the information he needed, and barely three hours after he'd entered the Castle the Diadem was a smoking heap, and Voldemort was very nearly mortal.

November, Harry decided tiredly, was a shitty time for an epic battle.

Voldemort had apparently felt the destruction of the Diadem and had converged on Hogwarts, Harry having ordered Dobby to charm a Basilisk fang to drill through Nagini at the earliest, clearest opportunity.

Which just left Harry and Voldemort to face off against each other, just as it had always been.

Harry had a plan though, and just beyond the Wards, (the attackers hadn't managed to break through), he grabbed Voldemort and Apparated.

Dobby watched the green light hit Master Harry Potter and snapped his fingers, causing the Basilisk fang that was still slick with the blood from the Dark lord's snake driving itself through the man's head cleanly.

The little elf was horrified as the body broke apart and vanished, but he padded over to his fallen Master's side.

A House Elf is a being of Magic, and Dobby's Bond hadn't snapped yet, so his Master wasn't truly gone- not yet at least.

Dobby took his Master's hand and took them back to Number Twelve, leaving only the Dark Lord's robes in that clearing of the Forbidden Forest.

Harry returned to consciousness slowly, more annoyed than he cared to admit by his, (former), Headmaster's appearance in the In-Between.

…..only to find out from Dobby that the magical world had been losing their collective minds in the day he'd been unconscious.

"Seriously?" He muttered into the tea Dobby had brought him on the breakfast tray, "I defeat the Dark Wanker and now they can't decide whether that's a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Sorry, sirs." Dobby said sadly.

Harry shook his head, "Not your fault Dobby. People are stupid."

Harry ended up spending about a full twenty-four hours at Gringotts straightening out his affairs, and that was with him having spent a full week writing up the initial plans while still holed up at Grimmauld.

He had plenty of things that he wanted done, (with the money that he hadn't truly acknowledged he'd had up until now), and he wanted to make sure that they were done properly while he was pulling himself together and trying to figure out where in the hell he was supposed to go from here.

Which was why he now had a Representative, a magically-binding one who was professional and damn good at his job.

Granted, with all the work Harry had just dumped on the man, he was paying him a King's Ransom, but if he got even half of what Harry wanted accomplished accomplished, then it would be money well spent. Also, the Magical Oath that Harry had crafted was incredibly stringent and the man hadn't batted an eye before swearing it, despite the sheer amount of paperwork being Harry's Wizengamot Deputation would entail. Oh, Harry wasn't being heartless or reckless, because Mr. Auberon had an extended amount of family who would soon go from the edge of bankruptcy to comfortably employed as long as they took the Employment Oaths, which was Harry's only condition besides aptitude.

Investments and ground-breaking business models were calculated, money was appropriated to various causes and new enterprises. Principally Harry set up his magical assets to run without much direct input from him as he had zero desire to stay in Britain now that he had played his part like a good little boy.

Potter Manor had been destroyed back during the First Blood War so that had taken up a lot of his attention- as he wanted that restored, and the Black Properties had been sorted quite sharply in Harry's favor, with Goblin upgrades going in over the next year.

Of course, he did make provisions for those that he considered family. He also had to deal with the hassle of having a bunch of other estates that were either Bequeathed or Conquests, so those had to be sorted through and planned for as well, and a lot of them had living members and other issues that would require personalized dealings and oversight- hence the need for a reliable Representative.

(A part of him nagged that he should actually contact the Weasleys or Hermione or Remus, and that he was being a shitty human being.

The rest of him was just damn tired and wanted to be able to live his damn life without an entire world looking over his shoulder and telling him what to do, even if they thought it was what was best for him.)

Harry shook Mr. Auberon's hand and accepted the Gringotts Register and Gringotts Secure Post Key, (to the Gringotts Secure Post Box that his house elves could check for him), that they would use to communicate unless they needed to schedule a face-to-face meeting.

"Well," Harry said wryly as he turned to leave, "See you around."

The man smiled gently, "'Not all who are wander are lost, all that is gold does not glitter.'* Mr. Potter."

The teen looked startled for a moment and then he grinned, "I like that. Thanks Mr. Auberon. Grapplehook."

Goblin and wizard watched the young Man-Who-Conquered leave.

"I hope that young warrior finds a worthy tribe." Grapplehook commented idly as the Goblin shuffled a pile of parchment.

"Mm. I hope he finds a measure of peace, old friend. He has tired eyes."

"Indeed."

Harry spent the next month property hopping as he tried to decide what to do next.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't busy, as he was inundated with paperwork of all kinds from Bryan and Grapplehook.

(Two people can only go through so much paperwork together before they decide to be on a first-name basis.)

Business proposals, Bill Proposals, Wizengamot Transcripts, Estate Affairs, Marriage Contracts, newspapers- basically if it could be put on paper, it ended up on the desk that Harry was using that day.

As he rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and jotted down another note about not wanting to see another marriage contract ever again, (he was pretty sure Grapplehook was only forwarding them to piss him off- bloody Goblin humor), he came to a conclusion.

Harry Potter needed to go back to school, because he obviously missed the lessons on how to manage a freaking empire back in Hogwarts.

Harry paused mid-stroke and stared at the wall for a moment.

Actually. I should probably take my NEWTS. Maybe get a Mastery. I'm the last of my family so I need- Harry paused and stared at the wall a little harder, his green eyes narrowing behind his new, lightweight glasses as his thoughts took a deeper turn.

Wallburga blasted a lot of people off the Tree without them actually being disowned. It's why no one knew that Sirius hadn't betrayed Mum and Dad despite him taking the Godfather's Oath- because Grimmauld hosts the Animate Family Tree, the others are just replications of it. Meaning that his picture was already burnt, so no one questioned the Trees, thinking Magic had burnt his Twig from his supposed betrayal. Sirius was only Lord Black because the other Main Line Blacks had died out and the Family Magic rejected Draco's claim when Malfoy Senior took him after Arcturus' death, as the Black Family Lordship was in dispute.

Harry jotted down a note to Bryan, I need a spell or potion that will heal a Animate Family Tree so I can see if I have any other living family members that I should be taking care of. Wallburga Black damaged the Animate Family Tree terribly. Potter Manor is too damaged for me to make it inside to check that one, the Elves say the charms are unstable and the Goblin Craftsmen concur.

Harry had found that he was terribly behind in his nonmagical subjects, and opted to find tutors for them as opposed to trying to go back to school.

So, time passed and the paperwork slowly decreased, (slightly, they finally got through the bulk of the Death Eater Trials), and Harry decided that Switzerland was a nice enough place to settle for a little while.

His tutors were from the Switzerland Magical Society, and while they were friendly and accepting they were also entirely unsympathetic as they piled onto his workload mercilessly, as Switzerland believed in a ten-year magical education that included nonmagical subjects such as Business Management and Magical Exploration, which was basically Magical Science.

It was nearly March before he remembered about wanting to take his NEWTs and he was slightly irritated at the thought of having to enroll in a school just to do so, but Bryan had laughed, (through an inanimate object), and told the young Potter that he was scheduled to take his Internationally Acknowledged Comprehensive Wizarding Education Assessments, (IACWAEs) in August.

Which sent Harry into a frenzy of studying because those tests were damn hard. They were Internationally Acknowledged for a reason.

Harry knew he wasn't supposed to, but he abused the hell out of Wit Sharpening Potions between March and August.

Hey, he had homework for the last half a decade of nonmagical schooling that he'd missed, homework for his magical schooling that he'd missed or just hadn't been there to begin with, and all of his paperwork to complete.

Harry held his letter with slightly trembling hands and tried to steady his breathing.

He was back at Grimmauld and his IACWAE results were inside the envelope he was holding while the spell-Potion combinations were at work on the Family Tree, and he was just as nervous about seeing his results as he was about finding previously unknown family members.

Apparently Wallburga had done so much damage to the Tree over the years she had used Dark Magic to sear people off of it without the Lord's consent, that just spells or Potions wouldn't repair the Tree, it had nearly needed a ritual.

C'mon Potter, where's your Gryffindor courage? Harry tried to joke to himself, but it fell flat, even inside his own mind. It was moments like this that Harry was reminded that he was truly alone. Oh, he had his elves and his employees, but he didn't actually have anyone else.

Part of that was by choice, of course, as he had voluntarily cut ties with the people from his old life, but he also wasn't the same boy he had been and he was quietly terrified of going back to being either the desperate orphan or the raging lunatic.

Harry took one more fortifying breath and popped the seal.

"The International Confederation of Wizards Academic Examinations Authority, (ICW AEA), administered the Internationally Acknowledged Comprehensive Wizarding Education Assessments, (IACWAEs) to one Harry James Potter under the Special Exception Clauses between 3 August, 1998 and 7 August, 1998.

The Assessments were administered in Belfort, Switzerland, by a multi-national group of educators. None of whom hailed from Mr. Potter's home country or had any prior contact with him or his family and were under Magical Oath to be impartial in their academic judgments.

IACWAEs standards supersede the regional OWL and NEWT testing requirements for any country that participates in the ICW, and can be submitted to any ICW participating Ministry, ICW facilities or subsidiaries as proper Credentials for Employment Consideration.

Results for Harry James Potter:

(IACWAE Scoring:

E- Exemplary knowledge of theory and exemplary demonstration of the practical aspect: highest score in category.

T- Admirable grasp of theory, with lackluster results in the practical portion of the exam: above average score.

S- Superb demonstration of the spell casting or practical aspect, but lacking in the theory portion of the exam: above average score.

A- When added to a score, this drops the exam grade down a level. For example: 'TA' would be someone who passed the exam mostly on their theory score, with poorer practical results. The 'A' lowers the score from 'above average' to 'average'.

IACWAEs are awarded up to 'AA' levels due to their difficulty, as the 'below average' standard is still above most of our participating countries' median graduation requirements. Anything below an 'AA' is simply a 'failed' score and no IACWAE is awarded.)

Transfiguration: S, IACWAE Awarded

Charms: E, IACWAE Awarded

Potions:SA, IACWAE Awarded

Herbology: SA, IACWAE Awarded

Astronomy: SA, IACWAE Awarded

Magical Proficiency- E, IACWAE Awarded

(Score is decided from the three separate examinations. Individual scores are directly underneath.)

Spell Theory: SAA

Defensive Magic: E

Offensive Magic: E

Operational Knowledge of Nonmagical Culture: E, IACWAE Awarded

Care of Magical Creatures- SA, IACWAE Awarded

(Score is decided from the three separate examinations. Individual scores are directly underneath.)

Creature Theory: SAA

Applied knowledge: SA

History- SAA, IACWAE Awarded

(Score is averaged from the three separate examinations. Individual exam scores are directly underneath.)

Ancient/Old World: SA

Medieval/Statute-era: SAA

Modern: SA

Congratulation on your nine IACWAEs!

The ICW AEA Examiners"

Harry stared dumbly at the parchment in his hand, knowing that by now Grapplehook and Bryan were receiving their own copies as he had broken the seal on the original.

That…

…..couldn't be right.

Nine IACWAEs?

He'd barely passed his OWLs!

The IACWAEs were tough as hell. Almost legendary. There was no way that he, Harry Potter, had passed nine of them.

They were the toughest non-Mastery tests in the magical world!

How?

Harry stumbled back and plopped himself down in convenient chair.

There had to be a mistake.

Harry was jolted out of his stupor by Dobby calling for him.

"-ster Harry Potter sirs!"

Harry shook his head and blinked rapidly, "Huh? Sorry Dobby, what?"

The little elf looked at Harry worriedly, "Master Harry has been sittings theres for three hours, Dobby and Kreacher bes gettings worrieds."

Harry smiled at the little elf, "I'm fine Dobby, I just….passed, is all."

Dobby's whole face lit up and he started babbling about Harry's greatness and food before popping out.

The black-haired teen shook his head in bemusement and stood, stretching as he made his way towards the study. Grimmauld had become more of a home throughout the time that Harry had been using it, mostly through his spellwork and the elves' efforts.

The colors were far cheerier, though they were still muted hues, and Harry had finally convinced Kreacher to move the portrait of Wallburga to the room with all the other portraits- which had the added bonus of keeping them empty as no one wanted to hear the woman scream.

Harry finally made it upstairs and sat down in the desk chair and fished out his Register. He was surprised, but delighted, to see the congratulation from Grapplehook and Bryan. They both recommended releasing the results to the public, as a lot of the naysayers to Harry's more radical business models and Bills were using his education- or lack of- as a selling point in their arguments. Especially as Harry hadn't been spotted since that brief moment during the Battle of Hogwarts- which had turned into more of a Death-Eater-Roundup after Harry had made off with Voldemort.

He hummed as he remembered giving Luna Lovegood an interview back in Fifth Year, and then the help the girl had given him when he'd gone to search for the Horcrux.

Harry's grin was sharp as he penned his reply. I'll do an interview with Luna Lovegood, the Prophet and other publications can run it a day or so later. Actually, Bryan, make her my official Press Agent, other than you so people can't make up fake interviews again.

Luna was still one of the oddest, bravest, most brilliant girls on the face of the planet, but the interview had gone swimmingly.

The lithe little blonde had smiled dreamily at him, but her eyes had been strangely intense when she'd thanked him for ending the war so early.

Harry had no idea what that meant, but the hug she'd given him before she'd left was one of the best hugs he'd ever received.

Just before she'd pulled away she'd placed her lips next to his ear and whispered, "Not all who wander are lost, but that doesn't mean that you must wander alone."

Harry stood in front of the Animate Family Tree in the Lineage Room of Grimmauld Place and frowned heavily.

Well, this needed investigation.

Harry-

From what we can gather, Bellatrix Black graduated from Hogwarts two years early in 1968, marrying Rudolphus LeStrange immediately afterwards.

From what we've been able to uncover- thanks in no small part to your Conquest of House LeStrange and our subsequent access to their diaries- her daughter was born in 1970. In 1981, the girl did not receive a Hogwarts letter, and Madam LeStrange tortured the girl terribly.

The girl was being raised by her paternal grandparents in the LeStrange property in Southern Italy when this occurred. Actually, the girl spent most of her life at this property and with her grandparents, from what we've gathered. At some point Madam LeStrange was called away by the Dark Lord and someone in the household took the girl and dumped her on the streets of Southern Italy with absolutely nothing.

We have located her, as per your request. She is a sex worker in the slum and she has a young son.

Her mind is mostly gone, Harry, and it is doing the boy no favors. He seems to be about 7 or so.

How would you like for us to proceed?

-Bryan

Harry shifted awkwardly as the boy stared at him distrustfully. "I'm Harry Potter-Black, and I'm your cousin. I'll be taking care of you and your mom from now on."

Granted, Harry didn't blame the boy for being distrustful as his mother was currently sedated in the next room, being seen by a professional Healer, while Bryan stood off to the side. Harry imagined that all the other males the boy had seen had probably been 'clients' of his mother, so having this many adult males, (the Healer was a woman), in the room and talking to him was probably a new experience.

It probably didn't help that they were obviously foreigners and not speaking Xanxus' native tongue.

Fortunately, the Black Family was nothing if not fully stocked on useful enchanted items. So while Xanxus spoke mainly Italian with some English and French curse words thrown in, and Harry only spoke English, they were able to communicate thanks to the translation device sitting between them. The device translated their words as they left their mouth, making the person on the other side's brain perceive them to be in the pre-programmed language for that side. Harry's was English and Xanxus' was Italian.

Harry had made sure to have the device thoroughly tested before this conversation however, and the device only had about ten languages programmed into it. The Italian it used had had to be updated, as well, so it definitely wasn't a permanent solution, but it would work until Harry could learn the language himself.

The boy scoffed derisively, "Why would you do that?" His voice was fragile, though. Still too young to hide the longing for someone to give a damn about him and his mother's plight.

The teen blinked bemusedly, "Because you're my family. Family is supposed to take care of each other." Harry gave the boy a haunted, sad half-smile. "I just found out about you guys because I had to take care of some stuff, but I'm here now and that's all that matters."

Xanxus' red eyes seemed to scrutinize him, still distrustful but not quite as hostile.

Harry suddenly grinned, "You have a last name now, you know. It's Black. Xanxus Black, of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

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