Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 14

It was the summer holidays once again. Harry Potter was back to Leaky Cauldron, a temporary place of lodging for him.

Tom had somehow recognise him from the visit he had last year. The barkeeper had to have that good of a memory in order to function well for his business since that particular trait was one of the few main reasons customers would come back to Leaky Cauldron. Luckily for him, Harry had not tell Tom his name yet and Tom had not pestered him for his identity. It was a win-win situation for both. Harry could ensure nobody knew of where he stayed and Tom had one more loyal patron for his bar. It was just a simple order of business.

Harry gave his thanks once again for the meals, services and room provided. An extra tip given allowed Tom to provide the best services for him. The adage 'Money makes the world go round' is indeed universal even here in the magical world, granted that they were still stuck in the Dark Ages where bribery was still strife.

For him, it was a great fortune to inherit the great wealth from his family. He was really glad to be born into the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter even though his parents were dead.

As much as Harry would like to spend his summer just lazing around and enjoying his life in solitude without anybody disturbing him, he had much things to do these three months.

The first agenda would be to visit the goblins. The last visit was hurried, seeing that he was still new to the world and that he needed the fundamental knowledge in order to survive in this great new world.

But now, having lived and studied in a castle where magic was the norm, he attained much enlightenment. Blood and family ties were extremely important. Magical Britain was an oligarchical society, where in the Wizengamot, Wizarding Britain's high court of law, seats that granted the lord or lady a single vote each was passed down from generation to generation by blood, not counting those few exceptional cases where the lord named someone else an heir for his house.

The highest status a magical family could have would be the 'Ancient and Most Noble' status. This was followed by the 'Ancient and Noble' or just 'Ancient' houses. The lowest form of status that could be granted to a family registered in Britain was with a simple term of 'Magical'.

The House of Potter, Longbottom, Bones and Black were among the few that were already conferred the highest form of status within society. Just being born or wed into the family would grant anybody respect. These people would be akin to royalty and nobles. Each of the lords and ladies in these houses could have the final say for all matters brought up in Wizengamot. But they would only have the power to overrule the general consensus of the entire Wizengamot if and only if at least three quarters of the houses agreed to it.

As for the Ancient Houses which included the House of Greengrass, Malfoy, Lestrange and Nott, they were sort of like the middle-upper class within the social hierarchy. Each was granted a vote in Wizengamot.

Last but not least were the Magical Houses. These houses were newly formed during this century. In order to merit for the status to be conferred, they would have to have at least three generations of wizards and witches born in Magical Britain. Only then could they have the status. As for their power, they could not vote at all in Wizengamot. Yet they would have their say and could attend the parliament in order to ensure matters concerning them were heard.

So for Harry, being the only survivor and heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, he would definitely be rich. The history of the House of Potter goes all the way back to the starting of Magical Britain and the founding four for Hogwarts. That goes to show how old the House of Potter was, and with that amount of time, it was without a doubt that the gold for the house would flourish. Old and priceless tomes and artefacts could definitely be found in their vault as well. It was with this reason that brought Harry back to Gringotts once again, hoping to visit it.

"Key please?" The goblin-teller asked.

"I'm here to see my account manager, Master goblin." Harry replied politely. He had read beforehand that the goblin was a proud race. They loved gold as much as they wanted to be treated with respect. Given how the current Ministry of Magic was extremely biased against all forms of magical creatures, including the goblins who were the backbone of magical economy in Britain, it was to be expected for them to dislike humans. Harry was not stupid though. By treating them with respect, he could ensure at least a return of such favour from them, which was much needed seeing how his entire family riches were within their vaults. It would not do him any good were he to criticise and ostracise them. That part was what he did not understand about the current Ministry.

The goblin just stared at him with a surprised look, not used being treated like an equal from human, and gave Harry an expression that looked like a sneer to him, showing his dirty teeth. But Harry knew that it was just their way of showing a smile.

"Give me a moment." There was various conversation going on after that, much of which Harry could not understand at all. It must be their language.

A goblin came walking towards him. He was wearing some form of armour with a distinct Potter crest on it. So it seems this was his account manager.

"Follow me." He told Harry and headed back without even waiting for a reply. Goblins were extremely busy creatures. So, he followed closely behind, looking around the corridor that was made of some kind of metal as seen by its shine.

Once they were behind the doors, Harry waited for permission before he sat.

"So Mister Harry Potter, what do you need to see me for?" He asked, a tone of urgency beneath which Harry could discern easily.

"Master goblin, is there any other vault which I can access, coming from my family?"

"No. You must wait until you get emancipated in order for you to access your family vault."

Harry gave a frown. He wanted to try his way of persuading his account manager so that he could give him some form of leeway but it might create more trouble. Goblin culture as he learned during Histories of Magic (which is useful for once) was extremely brutal such that any form of rebellion would result in death. Going against the instructions of the Goblin King was considered that.

During his thoughtfully moment, the goblin was seen tapping the table impatiently. Harry gave a sigh. Just his luck.

"Can I at least check up on my account balance for all the vaults?"

"A moment."

The goblin was seen searching through his cabinet of files, before getting one out and opening it. Inside was a piece of paper which was given to Harry to peruse.

As he read through it, his eyes became wider and wider. Shocked was an understatement for what he was feeling now. He had known his family was rich but THIS rich?

Apparently, his trust vault was given five thousand galleons every year since he was a born, with five thousand galleons less for the school fee in Hogwarts. Thinking of Hogwarts brought another incident to his forethoughts.

"Is there any last will left behind by my parents? Can I..."

"Locked. Your magical guardian saw through it."

Another frown. "What do you mean?"

"I meant what I said Mister Potter. If you are quite done? Time is money and I have much things to do, unless you do not want your vault to flow with gold?"

"My apologies Master Goblin. One last question. Is Dumbledore my..."

"Yes" The goblin sneered, cutting through Harry's question before beckoning him to please leave.

'How did my family end up with such a disrespectful account manager?' Harry rolled his eyes before leaving without a small amount of haste. Even if his account manager did not force him to leave, he would. Before he left, he ensured that the account manager would inform him of any unauthorised withdrawals from anybody other than him.

Leaving Gringotts, he had many thoughts within his mind. Somehow, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts became his magical guardian and locked up the wills and testaments left behind by his parents. Did that mean that it was his parents who asked him to take care of him when they died? If so, why did he not do anything to ensure his living accommodation was at the very least, liveable? Ever since the open bigotry of the Slytherin and favouritism of Gryffindor during the last-day feast in Hogwarts, Harry disliked that old coot. Now that he had enough information from the goblins, he could openly say that he hated him.

Harry would keep those thoughts in his own mind. It would not do him any good to leak out that something fishy was going on. The art of deception taught him to not unveil any information unless it was done on purpose. That was what he planned to do. Until he had more information regarding the crazy old coot, he would not make it known that Harry suspected him for doing uncouth things.

Yet now that he could not stay in any of the properties owned by his family due to the lock on his family's will and his family vault as well, he had no choice but to live in Leaky Cauldron until the end of summer.

Having finished the most important tasking he set himself to do, it was now time for Harry to visit Knockturn Alley again. His goal this time was to find and obtain books on his shadow and fire manipulation. Ancient runes and Arithmancy seemed important for him as well since the former allowed him to extend his knowledge into learning runes that might do much things that could aid him in the future and the latter helping him learn more about wandless magic.

A more in-depth book on mind arts was needed as well ever since the fiasco last year with the troll. He needed to learn how to Obliviate and change memories of the target so as to ensure his cover remained. If he could learn Legilimency as well during the process, it would be all the more better for him. But he could not hope for more until his occlumency were up to master standard.

Once again, he went into the dark dimension, walking through the streets unseen and exploring the place. Knockturn Alley did not change much since his visit here last year. With some galleons, he gathered information from the various shopkeepers on places that sold rare and precious tomes on fire and shadow elementalism, as well as on mind arts. Ancient runes and Arithmancy books could be bought easily in the mainstream shop in Diagon Alley and were not of concern for him.

Now that his control on shadow manipulation was up a notch, he could use it as an extension of his appendage, threatening the shopkeepers physically without moving. Since the shadow was intangible, that provided him with a great tool in his disposal by not leaving any mark on the other party as well as preventing them from overpowering him with pure physical power. Also, it had not dawned on him yet but so far, nobody could overcome his shadow abilities yet. Due to the lighting within the shops that conducted shady deals, he could hide his use of shadow, thus confounding the shopkeepers into thinking he was actually using some form of wandless magic. The fewer people who knew about that, the better for him.

Yet even with his extortionist methods, it seems none of the shops had books on fire and shadow manipulation. He did see a shop selling the one and only book on Necromancy which he bought at an exorbitant price even when it was haggled down. Such a rare tome would definitely be worth the cost.

'Be gone Sorting Hat! Luck seems to favour the tenacious.' Harry smirked inwardly. Necromancy was as close as he could get to manipulation of the shadow, even if it was a completely different art from what he could control. Nevertheless, having an army which he could raise at his disposal would be useful for him.

Having done his futile search, it was time to begin the third task for today – sign up on a class for martial arts. Harry could see one of the greatest weaknesses wizards and witches had, and that was the lack of close combat skills. If he could not defeat his opponents with magic, then he would just combat them with his bare fists, legs and whatever he could use.

Furthermore, he had always wanted to learn it after watching all those movies and shows Dudley watched when he was young. It was totally awesome seeing the actors and actresses kick the butts of the enemies. He would have gone and find himself an instructor to teach him but due to extenuating circumstances, also known as his relatives, he could only dream of it. Now that he was finally free from those 'pots' who called him, the 'kettle', monster, he could do whatever he wanted and martial arts definitely would be one of them.

Walking through the streets in London wearing normal jeans and shirt, he was just an ordinary human being. None was the wiser that he was actually a magic practitioner. Were he to do something abnormal right in the crowd, it might instigate another 'wizard-hunt' yet again. Thus it was vital to stay undercover and that was what Harry does best.

Muggle London did not change much since the last time he was here. He could still vaguely remember the shops selling clothes and books he bought from last year. The streets were still as busy as always, with commoners prowling about.

Something caught his mind last year – a small poster that touted an instructor teaching a class of students on MMA. That was what Harry hoped to find. He crossed his fingers as he walked to his destination.

'Please let it be there still...' Harry wished hard.

He found the alley for where the poster referred him to. It was empty and filthy. The drains were clogged with rubbish, permeating a distinct odour that made Harry cringed his nose in disgust. But with a rugged determination, he continued on, walking towards the address dictated on the poster.

He reached the place. A gate was what separated him from the building before him. It seemed kind of small and looked just like any normal residential place. There were totally no signs at all that showed it as a training house. So, with some kind of anxiety in him, Harry gave gate a push, opening it and walking towards the door.

Somehow, before he could even knock on it, the door opened and an old lady was there, looking at him weirdly.

"How may I help you?" She croaked out slowly, as if it might be her last breath any time.

Harry gave an awkward laughter. "I think I came to the wrong place. But is this..."

Before he could even finish his sentence, the old lady opened up the door to invite Harry within.

'What a weird person.' But Harry followed after her anyway, in search of answers. He kept his guard up. This was a strange and might he say, dangerous place. He never knows what he might face. This was also against the principles indoctrinated in him.

Never ever enter a place without any preparation made. It might be the last thing you know. Gather information from the locals. Find out who or what lives within. Rushing in blindly is a gamble that will certainly lead to a lose-lose situation.

The old lady might be a retired MMA champion and could still kill him if he was not prepared. Still, there was nothing he could do to quench his curiosity for what lay ahead in this room. Harry had his hands clenched in a fist, ready to react to anything.

She continued walking, as fast as an elderly could move. Harry followed behind her, muscles within his legs tensed and his eyes darting around the place. There were no windows at all within the living room he just entered. The only exit was from the door he just came in from.

He followed her into the study room, dark as it could be from the curtains covering the window. This was his domain. He felt empowered from the simple act of entering the room.

When he took a step into the room the old lady suddenly turned around, brandishing out her left hand with an object on it. Harry was not one to take any chance and so, he moved backwards in a bid to dodge it so that he could stay behind the wall once he was outside the room. But in the process, he tripped over a leg, falling backwards. Before gravity could fully pull him, he was manhandled. His left hand was pulled upwards behind his back. In seconds, both his arms were locked by the hidden perpetrator behind him. He was not worried however since he could always escape back into the dark dimension, bringing him along and killing him in the process through suffocation. For now, he would just inspect the situation. Who knows, he might be the MMA instructor he was looking for.

"Why are you here?" A question was posed from the man behind him.

Harry gave a chuckle. How ironic was this person. He posted a notice looking for students to come so he could teach them for money and yet, here he was, asking him that question.

"Aren't you the one looking for students?" Harry answered.

He did not answer. For a moment, Harry thought that he really was in the wrong place. He was prepared to apologise for his mistake. Before he opened his mouth, he was let go by the perpetrator. Not a person to look into the mouth of a gift horse, he moved as quickly as he could away from the hidden assailant, facing him and with his back on the wall so that he would not be backstabbed once again.

Throughout his actions, the person gave a light chuckle. "Kid. You sure do have an immense instinct for survival eh? Follow me into the room. We need to have a talk with granny." With that, he entered into the room.

Harry raised an eye brow, wondering what was really happening. This whole situation caught him unaware out of the blue. He did not expect anything like that to ever happen in his life. He did not like it since he was not the one in power with the knowledge.

So, warily, he went back into the room, only the find the old lady with a fan on her hand. Harry could only eye-roll at his own stupidity and paranoia. But he would not let his guard down still even if he was overpowered in seconds by the big man.

"So, just a question from me. Am I in the right place?" Harry asked the two.

"Yes, son. Let me ask you a question. When did you see the poster?" The old lady asked Harry.

Tilting his head, he replied, "Last year? At or about the end of July?"

This time, the man gave a full-blown laughter. "You do know that we stopped teaching ever since then the start of this year?"

Harry blinked his eyes and double-checked his hearing to see if he heard it right. "Wait...What?"

"Yes. We stopped ever since then because there seem no point in teaching these students. All they want is to fight because of their thirst for violence." He shook his head. "Kids these days... I wonder what their parents are teaching them."

Harry gave a nod. "I understand. But please give me a chance. I promise you that I'm not here to learn how to fight for the sake of fighting."

"What are you fighting for then?"

"Me...?" Harry looked downwards, reflecting upon his values and beliefs. Even if he loved to be in power and knowledgeable and that his initial thoughts of coming here was because he thought fighting was cool as seen from the movies and shows, his real purpose here was not all that. "I want to learn it for self-protection."

The man seemed quite interested in Harry's answer. "Oh?

That invited Harry to further elaborate his answer with a twist to his answer so that he would not be revealing his true heritage. "I'm being chased after by some powerful lord. I need to learn how to fight so that I could protect myself. I want to live and not die."

Translation? Voldemort is coming after him unless he pledged his allegiance with him. That would never happen and so, Harry would need to defend himself in order to give him a chance to strike back.

It was fortunate for Harry that this man was not one for questions. He truly treasure the privacy behind his students' personal lives even though he had none currently.

"Call me Mike." He extended a hand for Harry, which he accepted it with a firm shake.

"Harry."

"Okay. Meet me here tomorrow at seven. We will begin with some basic physical exercises and a spar just to see how far you stand currently. I will be teaching you mostly on defensive moves, unless you have something to tell me?"

Harry shook his head. "It'll be fine. Thank you Mike."

And thus, Harry started on his lesson. Amazingly though, the old lady of the house was actually a master in martial arts. She was the one who taught Mike into what he is today. Harry knew then to never ever rile the old lady up. He did not have a death wish even if he was a wizard. He learned that lesson once and that was enough.

It was approximately a week later where we found Harry back in his room reading. Somehow, the book on Necromancy was not of much help. Granted, it stated various ways one could raise an army of skeletons or give life to a body by inserting a soul within, most required huge and macabre sacrifices that involved murdering someone. Harry might admit that he tends towards the darker side of magic due to the nature of his repertoire of spells and abilities, but murdering another person in cold blood for personal gains was totally out of league for him. He was still a human with a conscience, mind you.

Yet there were several rituals he could do which would allow him some form of edge against others should he need to use them. For now, he would just keep it within his trunk.

Currently, he was reading on Arithmancy. The mathematical calculations and equations involved were making him headache. It was little wonder that such a subject was taught only for the third years and higher. A more mature brain was needed to understand these things. Even though he could get some of it, it was totally time-intensive due to the duration needed just to understand a 'simple' equation within the book. Harry was determined still to learn them in order to master his wandless magic.

That was another advantage that he had living in Leaky Cauldron. Since this place was filled with wizards and witches coming in and out all the time, he could practice magic without fearing of being caught for underage magic. He found out through trial and error as always. When no letter came for him, he knew then and there that a loophole was found.

So now, he was in the midst of making turning Incendio into a wandless weapon for him. Having a special affinity for fire, it would definitely allow him to bring doom for his opponent. With his bare hand, he could probably become a Pyromancer if he trained hard enough. That certainly brought him enough motivation to continue on striving to achieve his current goal. Ancient runes were a great help for him in allowing practice without burning or raising any forms of warning for other patrons of Leaky Cauldron.

Just then, the door to his room opened. As much as he would love Tom the barkeeper to come and remind him that supper was ready, he had remembered telling him not to ever barge into his room without warning. Harry was prepared to reprimand him when he realise that it was not him.

Without hesitation, he pointed his wand at the unknown person. He was old, really old judging by the colour of his hair and goatee, similar to that of Dumbledore. But what made him fear for the first time for his life was that he could sense the aura radiating from this person. It gave him the shudders just by being in his presence. His looks and stature portrayed a person of immense wisdom and experience which Harry could never hope to overcome even with a hundred year of continuous training. So he decided to use diplomacy as his foremost way of saving himself before all things go hell.

"Who are you and why did you barge into my room?" Harry questioned with a cold, emotionless voice just like how he always did in the past. There was no change in the man's expression. He gave Harry a chuckle. Fear began palpitating through his body once again. He wanted to try intimidating the man with the mask he practiced continuously for several years but he seemed to be invulnerable from it.

"I'm here to take you." Those simple five words coming from him illustrated the worst possible scenario Harry would ever have thought to ever occur to him. It seemed that he would be assaulted right even before he became a well-trained wizard. Nevertheless, he would not be going down without a fight.

Shooting a blasting hex, it was absorbed by a blue shield cast mere seconds before the bolt reached him. It seemed that either his reaction was slow or he had some fetish with theatrics and was mocking him. Regardless, it was his loss.

Harry began shooting spells after spells in his repertoire. He released his restraints mere seconds later. Control or not, he would definitely need his entire magical core to survive through this fight. He felt an orgasmic pleasure rushing through his body the moment his entire magical core was released. Coupled with the adrenaline rushing in his blood, Harry was really into this battle for his life.

Yet somehow, his kidnapper just stood there, defending himself without caring to return any spells.

'Is he mocking me?' Harry fumed inwardly, though he controlled it with Occlumency.

But nothing seemed to break through that shield of his. He was even beginning to sweat from the continuous use of magic for a few minutes in his attempt to overwhelm that shield, yet to no avail.

Thus, it was decided then to uncover his trump cards. They would not serve him any well were he to die before he could even use them.

Sending a shadow, he willed it from behind his kidnapper in a bid to strangle him. He was still distracting him by his continuous throwing of spells.

Slowly, the shadow, an extension of his left arm moved ever closer until finally, it ledged itself on his target. It was right on the neck of the kidnapper. With a smirk, he gave it a squeeze, as hard as he could do to choke him.

It appeared to be working. The blue shield shimmered before dissipating in its existence. So it seemed that even a powerful wizard could fall due to arrogance. Harry was now mocking at him, proud of himself.

"Tsk. Even if I'm curious in finding out your identity, I'm not going to let you survive because it might be the end of me."

'Information isn't as important as my life.'

Suddenly, he his left hand was forced open. That very action jolted him, making him take a step back from the backlash. A conjecture at hand was that his kidnapper had in fact broke through the hold on his choke, and that brought back a backlash from the use of his magic within the shadow all the way to his body.

Harry knew then that it was time to escape. He could do nothing against such an enemy who could overpower him completely. Willing the shadow to envelop him the moment he recovered from his shock, he was planning to hide within the dark dimension where theoretical, he could not be reach. Or is it?

...

He flew forward towards the door. An immense bright light was seen within the room with the source coming from where he was flying towards. The abrupt outburst of light blinded him momentarily and there was nothing he could do.

'Will this be the end of me? What will happen to me? Sigh... I'm sorry for not being able to keep my promise. Hope you will find peace someday.' Harry closed his eyes. He was ready to accept his fate.

Moments later, his consciousness left him.

The very last image in his mind was of the blonde-haired girl.

A/N: And so Harry's summer begins. Everything is going smoothly for him for the first week even if there is a minor setback in trying to claim his family vault and properties. His skills are coming off well with better control in his magic, a greater repertoire in spells and better usage of wandless magic. Now he is going to be incorporating close combat as well! That combined with his natural shadow and fire affinity will definitely make him a great dueller and someone not to be messed around with.

But who is that person who tried kidnapping him? And for what reason? Even after he trained 'so hard' and in the right way, he was overpowered totally. Is this the scenario that might occurred when he face Voldemort too?