Chapter 1

The first thing his mind registered was darkness. A silent darkness where the air smelled like it had not been disturbed in centuries. His mind felt muddled as if there was something important, he needed to remember, but nothing really made sense, so he pushed it aside to slide back into a dream-filled reality.

The second time he woke he had enough sense to conjure a light source and felt a flash of heat in his chest for a moment. Not that it helped much because he still did not know where he was or why he was there. It mostly looked like a vault as he climbed off the surprisingly comfy, altar-like bed he found himself on and wandered around. An enormous treasure-filled vault, but a vault, nonetheless.

A closer look had him recognizing a few artifacts and trinkets that had previously been placed within his home. It did not take long for him to realize that he had been placed in a vault with his material possessions and the objects that had been willed and given to him by friends and family.

That thought alone almost brought him to his knees as the images assaulted his senses. He was alone, he gasped as the realization struck him, he was the only one left.

He didn't know how long he sat there as he tried to make sense of things. The draught of living death should have left him in an eternal slumber after his family and friends lost their lives or died one after another, but a traitorous voice whispered in his mind…the individuals who took it wouldn't survive long enough to wake up after drinking it anyway, so who could have known?

He pushed the voice back and returned to his 'bed' to search for clues. A small journal lay next to a dry and cracked wand. He felt relieved to see it, but the feeling disappeared as he reached out to pick it up. It looked as if the magic had been sucked out of the wand and it didn't light up or even pulse as he gripped it.

Instead, he felt a pulse of something on his chest again and he pulled his robes open to reveal the sign of the Deathly Hallows right over his heart. The symbol had a familiar feather weaving through it, and it took him only a second to realize that it was the phoenix feather that once resided within his wand. He focused on the journal and mentally commanded his magic to summon it.

He felt the mark give a slight pulse and the book snapped into his hand. A quick glance through the book made it clear that it was of goblin origin. It explained how the goblins had found him and the note that he had left behind to explain the situation. The Ministry had not been able to do anything as his body was placed within a goblin refuge with guards.

Not that the Ministry apparently did not try, Harry grimaced in disgust as he read the notes on what the Ministry had wanted to do with his body. Some of the Unspeakables wanted to experi…ahem…examine it while the Minister had wanted to place it in an open coffin within Godric's Hollow to finish the so-called Boy-Who-Lived historical site. Harry almost did not want to believe it, but sadly it was something that he expected them to try and do.

The rest of the entries were filled in sporadically and never by the same goblin. It spoke of years passing and magic steadily becoming weaker as the magical and mundane mixed together. Both creatures and magic-users slowly evolved to blend in as muggle fear gave rise to hunters. Many magical races and creatures became extinct during this time while the rest did their best to hide and the world somewhat stagnated in its technological evolution. (A/N: Yes I know that it doesn't make sense because it means that the middle ages didn't exist in the Grimm world, but that's just how I tried to blend the worlds together.)

Harry glanced at the last entry. It was filled in by what had apparently been the last living relative of the goblins as he had known them and spoke of a world full of magical beings called 'Wesen' and the 'Grimms' and 'Royals' that governed them. It didn't go into much detail, but apparently, the main hunters became known as Royals and they governed and ruled the Wesen (previously magical beings) with an iron fist.

The Grimm lines were selected from known squib families as it gave them the ability to look past magical enchantments and they became known as the so-called 'police'. Yet they seemed to mostly use the title as an excuse as they killed any Wesen they came across.

The explanations stopped abruptly, and Harry almost dropped the book as he realized that the last entry trailed off before stopping at a bloody handprint. He looked around, but there were no corpses in the room, much to his relief. He did spot a bottomless bag next to the book though, so he quickly spelled his belongings into the bag. It was a relief to find that the bag was big enough to fit everything…and that its magic had somehow survived.

The chamber felt uncomfortably empty once he was done and Harry became worried when he realized that the goblins had placed him within one of their vaults where Gringotts had originally been. He wondered if the building still stood.

He glanced at the lock on the vault door and groaned. Of course, they would place him in the deepest vault. It required seven different goblin chiefs to open the bloody thing with seven keys at the same time in order to prevent anyone except the heir from being able to enter Merlin's vault.

He warily approached the door, but a familiar handprint made him sigh in relief. A panel, much like the one that was usually on the outside to test the blood of the heir, now resided on the inside of the vault so he placed his hand upon it, not even flinching when the panel drew blood before abruptly healing his hand.

The door seemed to repair itself before slowly opening and Harry was relieved to see that the magic had taken care of the rust. He didn't like the thought of blasting himself out when he didn't know what was on the other side, especially seeing as Gringotts went way down and there had once been dragons in the caves. A shiny item caught his eye and he glanced to the side to find a key with a very old note attached to it.

It seemed to be a portkey, but as he reached out to take the note it crumbled in his hands and not even a Reparo was able to put it back together again. He decided to take his chances with the cave but what greeted him was a gaping cavern with numerous rockfalls on, what had once been the tracks and stairs.

He grimaced and turned back to the key. The paper had at least stated that the password was 'out' so he glanced back and made sure that he had everything he needed. With a last glance, he straightened himself and closed his eyes before muttering, "out". The world started spinning.

Harry grabbed hold of the first thing he saw next to him as he landed in order to steady himself and found himself touching the remains of a familiar old stone pillar, eroded by age. The usual lingering sickness faded, and he lifted his head to look around. Only the pillars of Gringotts remained scattered on the surface.

The area around him looked abandoned. Tall grass grew among the ruins and it was only here and there that he could slightly make out another piece of what had once been Diagon Alley. Only the buildings with a goblin origin have somewhat remained though. There wasn't even a hint of any of the other buildings around and it was clear that Gringotts, and maybe even the entire Alley had been moved to a different location at some point.

He felt a slight tug on his magic and frowned as he faced the direction it was pointing him towards. The faintness of the tug told him that it would be a long journey to get to his destination, but he had nothing else he could do at the moment so he settled the bottomless bag onto his back and started walking.

Only to curse at himself a few moments later as he spelled himself invisible and willed himself to fly. It would make the journey a lot shorter.