Non-Compliant or Just How Angry Was He

by Lil Nezumi

Just how angry was he that his life was not his own, that his future had been irrevocably mapped out and that he was being forced into an unloved machination of a marriage. Well he was angry enough to do the ritual, cast the spell and let his body die... See chapter one for more.

2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: See chapter one for all notes, disclaimers, etc… from here one this will not be repeated.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

CH 2

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Big bright green eyes tried to blink away the fading nightmare of a future red-headed bride's face turning an unholy shade of Uncle Vernon purple rage. A tiny hand with bitty fingers rose to rub away the sleep crust from the dark long lashed lids covering those same vibrant eyes. Those lovely green orbs blinked quickly and adjusted to the greyish dark enough to note the angled wood that had been shaped to form the very familiar view of an underside set of stairs.

A couple of webs with a spider or two that moved about above his head catching dust motes and a few small houseflies, fluttered with every breath the boy took. 'It worked,' he thought and sat up in wonder. He noted that he still fit in the small cot in that particular cupboard. 'It bloody well worked!'

The child was none other than Harry Potter known to the Wizarding World as their boy saviour, the future Chosen One and the Boy-Who-Lived. He grinned and knew that he now had plenty of time to change quite a few things. He had plenty of time to alter his living and educational situation. He definitely now had plenty time to take control of his own life long before some white bearded magical old meddler stuck his twinkly eyes into his business and mucked it up right good.

Harry checked the small alarm clock on the shelf above his head and noted that there were no rounded, oversized glasses on said shelf. 'Must be before the time I needed glasses since I can still see somewhat clearly,' he thought. The clock showed the time to be two in the morning. 'I have plenty of time to order my mind and ensure that my magic is properly sorted.'

He sat up, crossed his legs and began the slow process of putting everything in order in his mind. He needed to be sure that he had strong Occlumency shields up and other guardian barriers so that no one could get into his mind. It wasn't too difficult since he'd already done it before. There was time to make improvements to his personal protections, but for now only needed to sort out the events of his younger mind which had merged with his older mind. He needed to know what happened the past few years before fully sorting his older memories of a time that will never be.

Sorting his magic was different, but it was something that had to be done since he'd technically gone through an advanced form of magical maturity. Sorting magic was a process that sorted his magical access into the paths that he instinctively knew were there and was where his magic truly belonged. He tweaked it a bit to increase his understanding of human and magical languages, including an understanding of animals.

That was something that would have happened naturally as he aged anyway.

Magical maturity had always been a process where magic could be shunted through a body. That's when those that were good in potions could become masters or mistresses of the field or how those with 'green thumbs and fingers' could become renowned at growing things or become Herbology masters or mistresses, and so on to the other prominent magical fields and guilds.

He'd always had an instinctive knack with animals and languages. That had been discovered to be, much to his surprise, his hidden magical gift which had only awakened after he'd matured magically before he physically turned twenty.

The old ritual he'd used was a true back in time thing with the exception that his magic and memories come back with him. It wasn't one that did away with the soul of his younger self, it just added his aged self with all his future training, knowledge and magical access into the vessel that his younger body was.

A very mouldable and pliable vessel that would grow and experience pretty much everything for a second time around including other bouts of magical maturity whenever his body and magic felt like thrusting that upon him. He already accepted that that would be the case and he was prepared to accept the consequences because any future where he was not aware or in control would have been as unacceptable as the previous one.

He thought that it was one of the only ways to improve his living conditions, but it was also because he wanted to improve the lives of those few others in the magical world that didn't have his connections, fame or money. He wasn't about to give things away like handing out charity, but he knew that there was a lot more that he could do if he had the opportunity, chance and knowledge to do it.

The first time he'd been made aware of magical maturity or any magical aging process had been during his travels with Hermione, after Ron had left them during their summer Horcrux hunt. This time around it could happen earlier, later or not at all, but he had enough magic now to be able to get declared independent from his relatives no matter what his physical age appeared to be.

Harry used his highly controlled magic to unlatch the lock on the door to the cupboard under the stairs. He didn't have to, but he was testing something related to the Ministry of Magic and whether they can detect him doing an active spell rather than a passive one which had been what 'accidental magic' was labeled in their records. It was deemed to be passive magic because it was technically undirected even if it was guided at the subconscious level. Also there was the fact that there were no registered wands in the vicinity of the muggle house so they couldn't claim that they were tracking wands in this particular muggle neighbourhood.

He entered the tidy kitchen. It had a window by the sink so he opened it magically and waited for some kind of official Ministry owl to turn up, but nothing came. He waited for about an hour and still no owl. He left the window open and went to do a few other things.

He walked up the stairs to use the loo as he passed the calendar he checked the date and used that opportunity to see himself in the mirror. 'So, I'm about four or five then,' he thought. 'That means it's before the time I need to be registered for muggle schooling too which is definitely a good thing. I'll be taking over my own education from now on and I will be leaving this place as soon as I possibly can.'

He'd taken the opportunity to take a long hot shower. He magically dried himself, altered his clothes to fit him and then returned to the kitchen to shut and lock the window before returning to the cupboard under the stairs. He magically cleaned the space and fixed the light bulb in order to review the contents of the leather case that he'd brought back with him. He re-latched the lock to the cupboard and then sat down to organize his things.

"Now what to do first," he muttered. "Get them to sign these and get to the Alley undetected. But first, creating a non-magical disguise."

He lifted out several items that he'd prepared. They'd be enough for his first venture into Diagon Alley.

There was something to cover his head, face and scar, plus a wizard robe to hide his clearly, muggle clothing. He'd need to find better shoes for his feet and maybe some gloves to hide the fact that he was too young to be out on his own. "Need a visible weapon too, something like this long dagger to hide the fact that I have no wand. Hm…maybe I should see about getting one made in Knocturn Alley or some other magical alley. Can't go to the Ministry approved shops in the heart of London as they'd likely want to trace my wand activity."

"At least I can Apparate wandlessly," Harry mumbled. "That way I don't have to go through the bloody Leaky Cauldron." He looked over his items and figured that they'd be just fine for the time being. He knew of a couple of places in Diagon Alley that rented rooms on a monthly basis for business travelers.

Some were strictly walk-in businesses so he knew that he didn't have to book one ahead of time. He had some muggle money on him too that he could get converted quickly in order to get one of those rooms or a suite before heading to the bank to follow through with his new plans.

He looked at his clock which read three-forty five am. He put everything back in the case except for a folder of legal papers. He locked the case, reattached it to the chain and hid it under the protection spells he created for his private property. If no one was told about the property, then no one would ever know what it was that he carried with him.

The papers were related to muggle and magical emancipation under a shell company name that currently didn't exist, but Petunia and Vernon Dursley didn't need to know that. He'd be legally released from his muggle relatives and that's what he really wanted. He can readily set up the company after the fact with a little help from the goblins at Gringotts to deal with the magically legal side of things.

In actuality that wonderful species had many different types of coming of age rituals and banking regulations that they barely had to follow the Ministry of Magic's Financial Laws as they ruled the Bank. For that reason alone going to the goblins would be a sure fit for his immediate personal, magical and monetary needs.

Harry tucked himself back under the thin summer sheet that he'd been forced to use until the weather turned in November. He had to sleep with a long sleeved shirt and old sweat pants in order to mimic the heat that a real blanket or comforter would do. 'First thing after breakfast and after the fat ones leave the house, Petunia will sign the papers…yawn…then it's off to Gringottsss…'

Harry - James - Potter

Petunia Dursley didn't know what had happened, but she'd sensed that something had changed almost overnight. 'Freaky magic is what it is,' she thought as she watched her pudgy son try and torment the small black haired child that she and her family had been forced to put up with for the past four years.

"Diddims," she called out through the back screen door. "Why don't you go play with your little friends down the street and leave the Freak alone?"

"Yes mummy," the boy replied semi-obediently. He kicked his cousin in the leg before leaving the yard.

Harry blinked his eyes and smirked. He stood up and walked to the garden hose to wash up. He removed the dirt covered shoes and left them outside the door. "I'm going to wash up more thoroughly and then we're going to have a talk," his green eyes twinkled in her direction. "Just a few things to take care of before I leave you permanently…"

The long necked, nosy woman of the Privet Drive, Surrey neighbourhood only registered the one word, 'Permanently?' She prepared a bit of mid-morning tea as per her usual before her preferred programs started on the telly and wondered, 'Permanently… permanently how?'

Twenty minutes later, she watched him enter the cupboard under the stairs to change into the strangest outfit she'd ever seen. He came back out wearing oversized pants, cinched at the waist with an oversized leather belt and matte brass buckle, 'Much too large to be natural,' she thought. 'The coat looks like one of Diddums old pea coats from two years ago, but it's much too long for the boy.'

Harry came out wearing the larger pants, tied in such a way that they looked to have ballooned around his thighs and tapered to his ankles which finished in a pair of used brown work boots that his uncle used to wear until he changed his position from factory worker to an office job in sales at the same company.

The boy had used magic to reduce the size of the boots and to make the toe portion round out in a sort of large comical bubble. They still looked like they were too large for his feet. But magic being his to play with ensured that they were light. That whatever they looked like on the outside, the inside fit securely to his feet with full support in order to prevent any sprain or injury to his ankles and tiny legs.

He had a pair of matching leather work gloves that had had their fingers reduced a bit to fit his small hands, but also to look like they belonged on a short statured adult. The way the magic worked was to compensate part of the reduced glove by enlarging the cuff of the glove which he'd been able to modify to look like it was made to go over the larger cuffs of his jacket.

He'd nearly copied the strange look of a creature from one of his cousin's video games called 'Final Fantasy IX', the creature was known as a Dark Mage and Harry liked how Vivi Ornitier looked. (…i…)

'It would certainly hide me,' he'd thought. 'Especially while I'm in Diagon Alley. I just need to look like a short man who prefers to keep his face hidden. I need to look kind of like Professor Flitwick or some other type of magical creature that hides from humans.'

Harry - James - Potter

Harry had learned to tailor and charm his clothing while he was at his four year post-secondary magical education. All the students at one of the few known magical-technical schools had been encouraged to take as many diverse courses while they concentrated on their primary magical career choices. He'd figured that since he already knew how to sew the muggle way, that he'd learn a few tricks and charms the magical way as he'd always been somewhat envious of Hermione's brilliance at creating her nearly bottomless purse.

Some of the tailoring tricks he'd learned had been to make magically expanded pockets to a specific size. He had needed to learn a bit of Arithmancy at the time before he could do much more than simply adhere an additional outside pocket or two to his regular clothes. But he'd been good with muggle calculations in general and had muddled his way through the magical versions of the lessons.

However the professor of that particular class had always advocated that material was finite, but could be altered infinitely within the parameters of its existence. Material would always fade through wear, tear and time. It just didn't matter how often they played with it or alter it, it would always fade through use.

All of which meant that if you had a pair of oversized pants, you could alter their shape any which way you wanted, but you had to calculate and create a purpose for the excess fabric without cutting it or banishing it away. Doing any cutting or banishing diminished the strength of the material and eventually you'd run out of it or else the spells tended to fail in forming to its intended shape or purpose. Sometimes like in Harry's case with his excessive magic the material exploded into floating shreds of string and bits and pieces of faded fabric.

Most of the students chose to create pockets of various dimensions by learning to strategically fold the materials and form the needed pockets with their magic. They also learnt how to create solid, hard surfaced, reinforced padding by use of a combination of transfiguration and charms to protect the needed physical zones related to their animal field of study.

For example some of the students that worked with horses or larger creatures reinforced their pants around their thighs, groin, knees and shins for whenever the animals accidentally kicked them when their hooves were being cleaned or when claws were being trimmed. Others like Harry who worked with birds or other smaller creatures had usually reinforced the fabric around their shoulders, arms and general chest area or the body of their coats to allow the smaller creatures to scamper up with their sharp claws or too land safely without the excess fabric harming their aviary friends or snagging the claws of the tiny scampering critters.

But almost all of the students had always added pockets to keep treats for any animals that they chose to learn about at 'Gellik's Institute of Magicum' in Ireland.

It was a technical, magical trade school created by Venantius Blank back in 1327 A.D. when the man had wanted to do specialized study in 'Commoner' magic and couldn't find one single person to teach him what he wanted to know.

This problem had lead him to create a whole school for various 'common' magical skills which grew into a technical institute of magic that had teachers teaching pretty much whatever they hell they wanted to teach and when without the need for a magical Mastery. They were not limited by any magical political body as the things taught were deemed beneath the Ministry Standard and did not have any corresponding O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s to muddle through. They were only loosely linked to specialized Guilds in the sense that some spells were more commonly used than others, but they could not claim expertise in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms or some other magical field due to the low nature or non-specialized form of the training that happened at the technical school.

There were plenty of core career paths like animal husbandry and breeding up to and including; magical chefs to fashion designers that crossed the magic-muggle worlds much like those known as; Armani, Chanel and Klein, being three of the more famously known ones in muggle and magical worlds in this day and age. (…ii…)

Harry - James - Potter

Hence the back-in-time tiny Harry's funny looking pants with hidden folds and multiple pockets that he'd loaded with any and all of his belongings, including: his birth certificate, the letter that had been left with him on the doorstep and anything small thing related to his mother and father which he'd called forth with his controlled magic while he'd been upstairs supposedly taking a long shower. He had actually raided his uncle's private papers that were hidden in the desk of the master bedroom. He had to get them before cleaning up.

He preferred to shower as he never wanted to take a bath in the Dursley's tub because his cousin still had bathroom accidents. He'd been forced to clean that up while the piggy boy got doted on by his indulgent parents. He shuddered at the thought of sitting down in a tub that had been shat in numerous times, ugh.

Harry met his aunt at the table a short while later and sat down to join her after he had grabbed his stuffed legal folder. "You don't like me," he started. "You'd rather I not have been placed here. I have something for you to sign and then I'll be on my way."

"What are you talking about," Petunia said. She looked at the forms. They were all quite legal and only her name was on any of them. "Why isn't Vernon's name on these?"

"You're my only blood family here other than your son," Harry said. "He can't sign them because he's underage and so you as the parent are signing on his be-half too."

"What are these," the woman asked.

"Guardianship transfer papers," Harry said. "I was approached by a man in the park who handed me these papers." His aunt's eyes narrowed at the thought that some Freak stranger had been in the park with her precious Dudders. "He knew my parents and was told that I was to have these signed by you in order to be placed in another home." He shrugged and looked at her with a disappointed expression on his face. "I don't mind staying here, but I do know the real truth that you've been hiding from me all these years. I know my parents didn't die in a stupid car crash and that my father was fully employed." He looked her in the eye and said, "He was no drunkard."

Petunia's nosed wrinkled as though she smelled something foul. "Is this a guarantee that you'll never darken our doors again?"

Harry shrugged, "I can fix it so that Dudley, Vernon and Marge never need know anything about me having been here. I can't do anything for you though."

"Why not," Petunia said. "I'd sooner forget about the lot of you too."

"Including my mother, who's your only sister," Harry asked, but shook his head. "I can't take away that much history from you, it's just not right."

"I rather not remember you either," Petunia sniffed.

"Fine," Harry agreed. "I can make you believe that when your sister and her husband died that their young child had died too better?"

"Better," the woman said. "What's with these circles by my name?"

"Needs a drop of your blood to be legally binding," Harry replied.

"Hm," she noised. "Very well," she signed everything, dropped a pin-prick of her blood, including full index fingerprint inside all of the circles. "When will we forget about you?"

"Soon," Harry said as he put all the papers together. "You all have to be in the house before I leave. I'll be going tonight and I'll make sure that Marge is taken care of too. It won't do to have her remember that I used to live here. I've finished my chores."

"You seem feverish," Petunia said with a pointed look to his face.

"Let me fix the cupboard to how it's supposed to be," Harry said. "Why don't you go watch your programs and I'll make sure that all traces of my existence are removed from your home."

"Right then," she said. "I trust that once you're gone you're never coming back here."

"That's the plan," Harry nodded. "If Vernon gets a promotion between now and say whenever Dudders turns seven, take it and move away from here. Make sure it's whenever Mrs. Figg has gone away to visit her extended family."

"There is no Mrs. Figg in the neighbourhood," Petunia said with a frown. "If I forget about you, how will I remember to move?"

"I can fix it so you remember this as though it came from a dream. It'll just nudge you to accept any promotions and encourage you to move," Harry replied, making a mental note to plant that suggestion in her mind. "Make sure you leave before one of that name moves into Privet Drive or else make sure she's away on an extended vacation. You know how nosy some neighbours tend to be."

He went into the cupboard under the stairs, packed the last of everything that could be deemed to belong to him and then he shrank the small sleep cot. He moved stuff around in order to turn it into a cleaning cupboard with generic supplies and small storage space for his aunt's mops and rags. He walked up the stairs and into his cousin, Dudley's second bedroom.

He marginally cleaned up the space in order to fold the cot down to scoot it under the small bed within that room. He didn't clean up the toys or books, but he'd made it look like his tiny cot had always been a part of that room by using magic to redistribute the dust within the room.

He walked to the small attic door and headed up a tiny set of poky stairs to see if anything larger had been stored with his aunt and uncle. He'd heard a couple of thumps when he'd first summoned his paperwork. He was sure that something had to be up there. Sure enough by the trap door there was a typical Hogwarts trunk that looked like it had needed to be replaced.

The luggage straps and hinges looked to be about bursting. There were lots of scuffmarks all over it and either spilled ink or paint on the top of it. The initials on the side were LRE. He grinned since he'd seen his birth certificate with his mother's full name of, Lilly Regina Potter, along with his father's, James Ignotus Potter.

The trunk had his mother's maiden initials and was something that he'd never seen or known about in his past life. He did note that the locks on the trunk looked to have been tampered with, but not broken into. He'd wondered if his aunt in her jealousy had done the damage or perhaps it had been his uncle looking for money or something to sell.

He shrunk it and then stored it in his pants, securing it there from anyone attempting to pickpocket him. He found another trunk up there without any markings or ownership information, but when he did a summoning for anything related to him, that other trunk had bounced once. He shrugged and repeated the steps to secure it in one of his many pockets.

Harry looked around the room and noticed old hard cover books, a series that looked like an outdated encyclopedia set, various magazines, sewing patterns that Petunia had used when she'd been frugal and needed to make clothing for her growing baby boy. There were old clothes stored up there too, much of which looked like they used to belong to his aunt and uncle before they'd gotten married.

He returned to the front room and asked his aunt about them. "Aunt Petunia," he said as she slowly turned her attention to him. "Those old books and clothes in the attic are you planning on doing anything with them or can I take them?"

"Make us think that we'd donated them a long time ago and you can have them," she said. "Make sure that you clean up after yourself up there and make sure that you're in your cupboard before Vernon gets home tonight. You need to be locked in there."

"Yes, understood Aunt Petunia," Harry said. He returned to the attic, packed much of what he wanted into a large smelly muggle suitcase by use of shrinking and reinforcement charms. Once he completed everything, returned to the cupboard under the stairs and allowed his aunt to lock him in one last time under the pretext that he was ill and needed to be kept away from the rest of her family for the remainder of the day.

Harry had kept a few books free in order to read them using his magic to memorize them and store the memories in his mindscape as practice for strengthening his Occlumency and adult magic while he waited for everyone in the house to go to sleep.

'You'd think with all the spells I'd done today that the Ministry of Magic would send me a notice,' he thought as he looked at the book detailing how to make wooden boxes and chests with drawers without power tools. It was fascinating and he thought that he could do that with magic. 'I guess it's because of the wards around the place. They may have been weakened around the time I turned eleven in order to allow owls to find me back then.'

Harry - James - Potter

In the wee small hours around one in the morning the two goblin guards for the magical bank known as Gringotts Wizarding Bank noted that a person almost as small as they walked into the bank wearing a black face mask with orange defusing goggles that hid the client's true eye colour and a long pointed hat that even doubled over looked to be twice as long as the person wearing it. They barely noted anything else about the figure as they were used to seeing outlandish costumes and different forms of dress.

What they did note was that the person had bowed to each of them before entering the bank and what's more that person said, (…Good 'eve…) in perfect Gobbledegook. The two goblins looked at the person, then each other before shrugging and turning back to glare into the darkness as the nighttime elements walked, strode, flitted and hovered through the streets of Diagon Alley to get to the darker areas of the secluded magical alley.

The person that had walked into the bank went to the far back to speak to the Goblin seated at the high podium. This goblin was the one in charge of the bank. Actually he was only in charge of the nightshift goblins, but still he was the night Director and named Ragnuk (…rrrahg nuuck, roll the R sound…).

The daytime Director was some other goblin Ragnok (…rrrahg knock, roll the R sound…), both carrying the names of their ancestors. It had been arranged in this manner to confuse the uppity humans and make it seem like they were both the same being. They were in fact only from the same family cave.

(…Good 'eve Ragnuk…) The small person said in the perfect tongue of the bankers without faltering on pronunciation of the director's name as read from the plaque in front of the elder goblin. They only allowed the one name to be shown to the humans. They usually had several, gained over a lifetime of accomplishments.

The human in question had pulled the bottom drawer in the podium to reveal a small set of stairs that a short person could use to climb and speak to one of the directors of the bank face to face. In fact it was a service in all the podiums, but not many remembered them. (…I've need of a ritual and advice…)

(…Do you now…) The director looked at the dark eyes hidden by the strange eyewear of the person whose face had been completely hidden by a black mask. (…and what kind of ritual are you seeking?...)

(…Age of magic…) His client told him in perfect Gobbledegook.

Ragnuk blinked and then looked closer at the person before him. He lifted his index finger for the person to hold out his hand. It didn't matter if the hand was covered or not he just needed that hand in order to test the person for concealment magic. Nothing had been detected by the guards and nothing in the wards indicated that something magical was concealing this client. So he was curious as to how they client was cleverly hiding his appearance.

A gloved hand was presented with the palm up, much to the goblin's surprise. 'Not many know of this custom,' Ragnuk thought. 'Not many would willingly present their limbs to a goblin and no human on record has ever presented their hands palm up in centuries without being instructed to do so.'

Ragnuk ran his index finger from thumb-tip to the circle the centre of the palm as his magic sought the spells used to conceal the person's identity. He blinked after several moments after his magic told him that the only spells on the person before him where wrapped in the person's clothing. (…Interesting! He only used tailoring spells…) Ragnuk muttered too soft for a human to hear. (…Very well…) He turned to one of the goblins on the floor near one of the numerous doors main banking corridor and said, (…Griphook lead this person to one of the ritual rooms. I will be there shortly…)

(…Yes Director…) Griphook said as he approached the podium. He waited until the client had descended the small set of stairs and had pushed the drawer closed before he said in Queen's English, "Follow me."

The person nodded and followed one of the shortest goblins in the bank to a room that had been properly set up for various rituals related to estate inheritances and other rituals such as: blood adoptions, sibling adoptions, marriage, companionship bonds, divorce, many others and of course the one most important to this client, the ritual for testing the magical age of a person no matter what their physical age seemed to be at the time of the ritual.

Age of magic was a key factor in many of the goblins transactions because they were highly aware that sometimes magic will wreak havoc and a person could be aged, de-aged or have stopped aging altogether. The human magical family vaults always required additional protections after such events in order to prevent fraud which is a thing that goblins really hated and loved to deal with in equal measure.

"The director will be bringing you a potion and the ritual equipment needed," Griphook told the person. "Will that be all?"

"A question," the person said. "What's your position here?"

"Security and cart operator," Griphook replied with a slight quizzical expression. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you manage accounts," the person asked. "If not, do you know of one who's reliable and not liable to listen to false information about a client? One that will treat the human client fairly and without question."

"I have a cousin who'd do well in managing accounts," Griphook said. "It will also depend on the accounts in question. You may need to have more than one in charge or at the very least one in change and someone assisting them."

"I see," the person nodded as the night director entered the room followed by another goblin dressed in robes similar to human wizards who carried a potion vial. "Would you please come back after the ritual is done? I would like your advice."

"His advice," Ragnuk questioned.

"Actually I would like the advice of all goblins in this room," the person said. "But…only after the ritual is done, of course."

"Of course sir," the robed goblin said. "Are you familiar with this ritual?"

"I've studied it," the concealed person said with a nod.

"Very well," the robed goblin nodded and then explained. "It is quite simple. You make a small cut in each fingertip and thumb-top of your non-dominant hand, let three drops from each digit fall into this potion and then you walk to the centre of the engraved ritual circle and drink it."

The person nodded and removed only the left handed glove. The hand of the person was quite small and they'd be surprised to have come to a common consensus. 'He's human,' they thought. But Ragnuk had the additional thought of, 'How did he learn to speak our language so well? He seems so young.'

They watched as a small virgin silver-steel pen-knife was used to make small pricks to release the blood as required for the ritual. Three drops per digit were meticulously added to the potion vial before it was taken to the centre of the room. The mask was then lifted revealing full cherub bow like lips of the small human before them. The vial was emptied and the person sat down immediately to prevent harm. If the ritual invalidated the client's claim in some way one of the results would be that the magic would retaliate against a person quite harshly.

The person then lay down as his magic flowed out from the small body and into the lines carved into the ritual chamber. The colour of the magic, plus the spread of it, showed the age of the user and the pale green-blue colour indicated that this person had full control of their magic. That information included the fact that the human magic had already passed through three maturity stages despite the seemingly youngish features of their small client.

The goblins knew that humans went through at least six stages in their lives after their first expression of 'accidental magic' or 'passive magic' as the human Ministry of Magic called it. The first expression didn't quite count as a stage of magic. The Ministry only recognized the first stage as the start of their formal magical education when they acquired their working wand and another during the onset of puberty or around the time they turned fifteen, sixteen or seventeen years of age.

A human's third mature magical cycle usually coincided with having passed their second decade of life. Although that stage in more recent times occurred closer to their thirtieth year rather than in the early twenties or even teen years. The rest of the cycles varied per person and not all humans reached a sixth cycle as they no longer trained their bodies physically like they used to in the older days.

"Well," Ragnuk said. "We'll draw up the paperwork and ensure that you are recognized as being legally and magically emancipated in the eyes of the Ministry of Magic."

"That will be binding too, won't it," the person asked.

"Yes, it will be legally binding," the goblin director replied. "You requested our advice."

"Yes," the person said. "First I'd like the paperwork completed in full now."

"Of course, follow me to my office and we'll take care of everyone," Ragnuk said.

"May I have a personal vow from the three of you to never reveal my name to anyone in the bank or to any seeking information about me," the person said. "Nor of the fact that I've come here, I mean before receiving a formal invitation to a magical school and obtaining a school wand."

Ragnuk looked at the other two with him in the room and then said, "We'll do that once we are in my private office."

"Thank you Ragnuk," the small human said, rolling the R properly growling, expanding the U tone and hitting the K sound correctly from the back of his throat in a guttural KUH noise as that's part of how these creatures spoke.

Ragnuk had led them to his private office where he'd erected the topmost privacy wards and security measures. No words could be overheard when silencing and muffling spells were in effect. No person concealing themselves through use of transfiguration magics or animagus forms could enter the bank let alone find this small office.

"Thank you," the small human said as he removed the oversized hat, the goggles and the black mask to reveal the semi-rounded face of a small human boy. It was a boy that had distinctive dark green eyes, messy black hair and the telltale lightning bolt scar on his forehead, "My name is Harry James Potter and I would see that all accounts, vaults and estates under the Noble House of Potter are in proper working order."

The three goblins were shocked.

Ragnuk snorted and then had to chuckle. "I do see what you mean."

The goblin set the potion's results on an official piece of parchment and added them to a formal document for age of magic declaration. He had his colleagues sign as witnesses along with the boy's bloody fingertip prints.

A number appeared on the forms which were linked to a magical human's family files which were a part of the ongoing census of magical families kind of like family trees being tracked, but only by Gringotts and the family accounts or estates. The Ministry had no access to the goblins data of the human families that banked with their institution.

"Remember this number as it will allow you to apply for O.W.L., N.E.W.T.S. and any other tests like the Apparating Licence test or for studies to a Master Program. The number will permit anonymity…unless you want to be revealed through relevant publications. I could be mistaken about that though since those regulations may have changed," Ragnuk advised. "That number will also allow you to be anonymously skill tested, if you want, in order to properly gauge your educational levels in your preferred subjects. It is similar to a National Insurance Number (NIN) found in the UK National Registration (…iii…) system to which you can apply for a muggle one with this number. This number is only for your magical education and magical employment background records. But all those records are kept here within your family files. It's called the Gringotts' Family Number or GFN for short. If you choose to apply for an NIN number, it will be linked to your GFN. This will allow you to obtain other official documentations that will cross our worlds without calling into question their validity or legality."

It was standard practice that every magical human with a vault received an automated number that was linked to their name, their date of birth and the date of birth of their magical parents. It was a personalized number system that had always been issued by Gringotts.

'Not that I'd been made aware of this in my past life,' Harry had thought with a slight sigh. 'I could have avoided a lot of headaches and sleepless nights if I'd been told all this before it had been too late.'

The ritual used had proved that the young human had reached their third level of 'Magical Maturity' and that he was legally deemed adult within the eyes of the Ministry of Magic and its Laws despite his actual physical age. As stated magical accidents do occur and so someone around seventy could have been de-aged to five or ten years old, but the age of their magic couldn't change, neither would their experience or education unless they'd been mentally attacked too.

"Thank you," Harry said as he looked his issued number. He memorized it and indicated that he'd like an ID card made with the number and have it linked to one of his personal vaults. It was a common request. The card would also work like a muggle credit card and a vault key, until he could organize things to his satisfaction with the highest security protecting all his vaults as well as getting all outstanding keys back into the hands of any estate managers he chose to hire.

"What else can we help you with today," Ragnuk asked as they were still under the privacy wards of the room.

"I would like to review my estate files," Harry said. "I have several things that I need to discuss with a competent manager, but I would first like to have someone other than the current goblin in charge of the Potter accounts to help me to review the files. I just need to know if any transactions have been done on my behalf and other things of that nature without my being made aware of them since the death of my parents. I'll need your help to vet a set of competent human lawyers. I want the best ones and only those that will continue to work on my behalf no matter what's printed in the newspapers. Since physically I'm like this I'll need someone that wouldn't think to take advantage of me plus I want to know of someplace other than Ollivander's that makes wands for wizards, but I don't really need one for now."

"I see," Ragnuk said as he made notes for his client's files.

"My cousin is available for vault management her name is Sibilo," Griphook said. "She's very competent and has studied various human accounting systems as well as business management systems. She's also very organized and will probably require that you get house-elves if none are living on your existing properties. She also has a background in Investment Tracking for both Magical and Muggle businesses."

"Why isn't she employed," Harry asked, thinking that she sounded perfect for him.

"She's female," Griphook said with a shrug, as though that explained everything. "Unmateable so the family is willing to allow her to be of use to our cave."

The boy blinked, shook his head and muttered something about cultural differences.

Harry then looked to Griphook and nodded. "I have a room at The Margrave, under the name Lunar P. Black. If she wants to have an informal meeting with me, I'll be there this afternoon after two. I want that alias tagged to me legally with the image I used when I entered the bank. It's not to be made available for the public or for the Ministry to know that we're the same person," he said. "I'll be back tomorrow night too so I can meet her then if she's available and would rather meet here in security. I need to take care of quite a few things and I know that some tasks will take some time to get organized. We'll discuss house-elves after I've met her to see if we can have a good working relationship."

"Mr. Black," the robed goblin called to him. "I too have someone that can help with your accounts or vaults."

"Who," Harry asked.

"Me," the robed goblin said. "My name is Galamar and I'm familiar with business contracts from a law perspective including other articles of Ministerial Law. I'm well versed in the human court system, but only for business law. If you ever need someone to aid you with the Goblin Court system and businesses in general, I'd love to be your advocate. I'd be willing to work alongside your human lawyers and any others you choose to hire."

"We can discuss that tomorrow too if you're available," Harry said and received a nod. "I'll be here for ten at night." He looked to Ragnuk and asked, "Can I rent a secure boardroom or meeting room in order to go through the files?"

"Yes, at twelve sickles per hour," Ragnuk said.

"Deal," Harry said. "Put me down for eight hours for the next five days around this same time, including meals and breaks."

"You should have bargained. You could have had the room for less, including the meals," Galamar said with a shake of his head.

"Don't really have the time to dicker for a lower price right now and I'm still getting the meals and breaks for the same price since he agreed to the final terms," Harry said. "I really need to get caught up with what's been in the newspapers first. I'm nearly through the events leading up to the appearance of 'You-Know-Who'," he sneered at the name and continued. "…and his Death Eaters being named the ones terrorizing the magical populace, I'll see all of you tomorrow night."

Harry bowed to all three goblins with respect and said, (…May your gold grow and your enemies flail at the sight of your ever-sharpened blades…)

(…Blessings to your family and may you ever increase your gold…) They replied.

"I'll escort you out," Griphook said as Ragnuk booked an out-of-the-way meeting room for next five nights so that young mister Potter could thoroughly organize his accounts.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

TBC...

(…i...) I love that game, see link - en dot wikipedia dot org/ wiki/ Vivi_(Final_Fantasy) #Appearances (change the word dot and remove the spaces to see Vivi). Yes, Harry will look like that, but with muggle modifications, for the few years that he's on his own. FYI – Don't care about the timeline of the game.

(…ii…) You know I did not make those names up and so any part and parcel of anything related to those names belong to their originators.

(…iii…) Used web and wikia to find that information out, no claim to origins or affiliation to the actual UK governmental organizations, policies, or laws.