I don't own Harry Potter. Please let me know what you think.

Harry Potter: The Spider-Man Burglar.

As soon as he walked through the lobby, Harry's keen eyes swept the bank floor, and he saw nobody was looking at him, but then he noticed one man wearing voluminous robes who was talking to a teller, so his attention wasn't on Harry. However he recognised the man at once, he was the same weirdo who'd excitedly shaken his hand in public and had earned him a nasty beating at the hands of Vernon Dursley. But right now the man's attention was focused solely on the goblin in front of him, not on his surroundings.

Nowhere near, but Harry noticed him instantly as soon he recognised the face; his mother's vault had contained diaries, and in one of them there was a worn photograph full of moving people who had been with his parents. The goblins had given him names while the diaries and his own deductive skill had told him he was looking at a photograph of the Order of the Phoenix.

The man's name was Dedalus Diggle, and he was one of the members of the Order who was going to 'inherit' the cash from the Potter family. While making sure the little man didn't notice him, Harry couldn't help but grin in delight as he walked through the Leaky Cauldron and back out into the street while his hood was up, feeling freer than he had done his whole life; he had never realised until now just how oppressive the Horcrux had been when it had taken up residence in his head, but now it was gone he felt different.

For a start, while he was pleased the Dursleys were gone and they would never hurt him again ever, a large part of Harry was now sickened by what he had done even if it had been vital to getting rid of the Dursleys so he could make it out into London. Now he was experiencing the feeling, Harry knew now a large portion of his desire and his lack of hesitation for the murder of the Dursleys had come from Voldemort's soul fragment itself.

But at the same time…

A part of Harry wondered if he would do the same again if his life depended on it. Only time would tell, it always did. But then again there were many things he would like to do, such as getting a nice home which was a priority given he was now homeless and he was now living off of the streets even if the money he had taken from the goblins which came from the myriad of muggle-born parents who didn't realise the magical world their kids were now a part of didn't have a decent exchange rate and instead massively taxed the magical families to allow muggleborns into the magical world which only caused more disgust and distaste for muggleborns, but all the goblins were left with was a large ton of paper notes and coins they didn't even need and was usually burnt although they kept a large supply just in case, then he had turned up and he had offered a suggestion for the goblins to give him a large amount so they didn't need to. The goblins had been more than delighted by the solution and at that moment they had referred to him as a goblin friend and a lengthy explanation of what that entailed.

In the meantime, he had a lot more to do now he was freed from the effects of the Horcrux. After the procedure, he had felt more powerful than he had done in his entire life, but that was to be expected, really; the goblins had explained to him the Horcrux had been leeching off of his own magic to stay alive after all these years, and it wasn't helped Dumbledore had placed dozens of blocks on his own magic until even the goblin healers were amazed he was even able to function, never mind be able to use his magic to the level he had.

Harry didn't even know if he was still able to crawl on walls, never mind be able to hypnotise others, but he wasn't worried about that just now. Thanks to the goblins, he had been able to gain access to his mother's own vault - his family vault wouldn't be open to him until he was in his late teens, and somebody else had access to the vault key to his own allowance vault, which had annoyed the goblins, but they had already begun the plans to make a new key if he couldn't get it back. But it didn't matter - there was more than enough cash in his mother's vault, and since she was dead and he was the only member of her family left, grisly as it sounded, he had more than enough money.

The goblins owed him a favour anyway. During his visit to Gringotts, Harry had learnt the goblins regularly became frustrated by the amount of muggle money they were forced to take from the muggle-born students who came into the magical world with parents who'd accepted their child's gifts, although Harry had a sneaking and sinking feeling that many of them were like the Dursleys in attitude and mind. The piles of coins and notes were useless to the goblins and the wizards never really touched it, unless of course, they left the magical world, which was rare in itself. So the goblins were left with piles and piles of useless paper and coins they simply did not have the contacts in the muggle world with to get back the gold they needed to exchange it with.

It was then Harry had offered a solution when he realised they normally burnt it. He offered to buy it off them for a few galleons, and since there was a lot of money in his allowance and in his mother's vault, there was more than enough there to buy the paper notes. A few galleons was a lot better for them, and since it cost them their work, the goblins jumped at the chance to get rid of one of their biggest headaches. As thanks, they had allowed him a brief look into his family vault on top of getting into his mother's vault, where he discovered that his mother had owned a flat of her own, and it was this flat she and Harry's father had used as a home shortly before they had moved into the house where they had met their end.

Harry had the keys to the flat in his pocket and the documents which proved it belonged to him - Lily had arranged it all nicely in case anything had happened to her and James, and he was left on his own, and he needed a home.

"Thanks, mum," he whispered to himself as he kept his head down and left the Alley before he walked through the Leaky Cauldron and back out into the muggle world. Today had been a good day, not only did he have a home now, he had a book the goblins claimed was his family grimoire which contained a vast treasure trove of magical knowledge, which was one of the biggest reasons why he had bought it in the first place. After he had been deprived of knowledge about his heritage, his family for years, Harry planned on catching up on what he should know.

According to the goblins, Charlus Potter, his grandfather, had feared for the Potter family's history and future and knowledge, and he had known of the danger posed to all the Potters out there since Voldemort had a major grudge and had proven himself in Charlus' eyes as being nothing more than a genocidal monster who murdered everyone around him for his own sick, twisted delight, who murdered pureblooded witches and wizards, the same people whom he claimed to be the saviour of with nothing more than the stupid excuse of them being 'blood traitors' he had stored the grimoire into the Potter family vault, where nobody but a Potter could get in.

So, not only did Harry now have the grimoire and the keys to a new flat which would become his home, he had a sizeable amount of cash ready to be put into a bank account - the goblins had given him the means to open it with the aid of something called a rune cluster, which would allow him to appear as an adult so he could enrol himself into a school or open a bank account.

And, perhaps, a few other possibilities… Harry closed that thought down as quickly as it formed; one step at a time. For the moment he wanted to move in, see his new flat, and establish himself in the city before he began committing new crimes. As he walked out of the grotty looking pub which he knew his relatives - former relatives, he corrected himself - would have sniffed disapprovingly at simply because it was grubby, Harry thought about the wealth of possibility opened up to him now.

XXX

In his office at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was going mad. It had been two days since Harry Potter had escaped, and the Dursleys were murdered; Albus had gone in to investigate the scene himself, although he had needed to do so while the muggles continued to investigate the killings while he magically scanned the scene; he had gotten there as quickly as he'd needed to, and he had discovered there wasn't any magical residue on the knife used to murder the Dursleys, but there was no clue to who had murdered them, or even where Harry had gone. All the blood magic trackers had failed and collapsed as soon as he'd left and the Dursleys had died. Even worse, the muggle Aurors had found the Cupboard under the Stairs; Albus had known about the conditions the boy had been forced in, but it was for the greater good if the long term gains were worthwhile. In any case, the boy would soon die as soon as he defeated Voldemort, and died with the Dark Lord. It was inevitable, especially since there was no way the boy could survive the backlash when the Horcrux in his skull was destroyed.

The only practical thing Dumbledore could do was wait instead of ordering the few members of his Order whom he could trust to finding the boy and understood the ways of the muggles in order to find clues of where the boy was. In a few years, the boy would receive his Hogwarts letter, and when that happened, he would finally know where the brat was, and then he'd be in a position to taking full control of his life again.

But at the same time, Albus wondered if he was too late and the Horcrux in Harry's scar had influenced him to the point where he would willingly murder the Dursleys, although he knew even without the soul fragment in his scar, it would have been tempting for anyone to commit murder, but all he had at the moment was nothing more than conjecture. Not proof, but when he found out for sure….

Albus sighed and he mentally prepared himself to engage the contingency plans he had in place should Harry Potter turn Dark; he hadn't wanted to use them, although his plans to manipulate Lucius Malfoy into releasing the Horcrux trapped inside Tom's diary which he'd found out about once he had sent a house-elf to Malfoy Manor which had been dangerous enough as it was, with a talisman designed to detect Horcruxes also included an opportunity to make Harry out to be the Heir of Slytherin, but make him appear to be eviler than he actually intended.

But, since he needed Harry to find the Philosopher's Stone to test his ability to see things other students could not, then the diary released on the school would provide him with the chance to see how far he'd stray to the Dark…

XXX

Harry walked around the flat and couldn't help but mentally praise his mother for her choice and her taste. The flat was on the river, so it had a decent location, which was one of the reasons why she'd bought the place. While he didn't know too much about the neighbourhood, that wasn't a problem in the long-term so long as he was quick; if there was one thing being in Little Whinging and enduring the pointless chases from Dudley Dursley had taught him, it was to always know your surroundings and have a decent route of escape.

For the time being, he would settle down and try to find a decent school he could apply for, preferably one where he wouldn't need to grit his teeth and wish the whole place wouldn't burn to the ground like his previous two schools which had begun long before that buck-toothed little bitch had revealed he was stealing from everyone. Harry had decided already he wasn't going to use the name Potter, but rather he was going to go with Evans instead, so the police wouldn't find him.

However, as he thought about that little bitch, Harry wondered where she was, and he hoped she wasn't going to be anywhere near the school he applied for, and that included that bitch of a teacher who'd judged him simply because she'd listened to the lies of Petunia Dursley.

He shrugged his shoulders while he pulled off the dust sheets somebody, most likely his parents, had used to cover the furniture in his new flat, and dumping them down in a corner while he waved his hands as the clouds of dust blew off into his face. Hurrying over to the balcony, he threw open the doors and stepped out and leaned against the rail.

"Forget the school," he muttered to himself, "I need to clean this place up a bit."

Going back inside the flat, Harry discovered the cleaning products were long since out of date, so he bagged them up ready to throw them out with the rubbish. Taking the money from the goblins, he left the flat and went to the shops, mentally making a map of the streets as he did, before he reached a nearby supermarket. As he got close, he took a look at his clothes, and he shook his head; he would need to change his wardrobe instead of looking like a scruff. Great, something more to add to the list of things he needed to do…

With practiced ease, Harry walked around the supermarket and gathered everything he felt he would need; he gathered simple cornflakes, fruit which consisted of apples, bananas, pears, plums, and grapes, milk, ham, bread, meat, some clean mugs, toilet and kitchen rolls, some pens and a notebook to write his priority of ideas, soap and toothpaste, and some toothbrushes, dishcloths, sponges, cleaning materials, mop and bucket and some disinfectant, hoover bags (he'd found one at the flat, so he didn't need to worry there), some rubber gloves, bin bags. He spotted the pizzas on display, and he wondered what they tasted like since he had never had one before in his life. Opting to buy a simple pepperoni pizza for his dinner tonight, Harry grabbed hold of a pizza tray to go with it and some greaseproof paper. It was a simple collection of stuff and there wasn't a great deal of it, but he could always come back for more later. Once he got to the checkout, the woman at the till eyed him speculatively, making him sigh in irritation under his breath.

"A lot of stuff, here," she said in an attempt to make some conversation and get some idea of who the boy was and why he was alone.

Harry wondered if he should hypnotise her but he decided against it. "You could say that," he said without giving too much away.

The woman smiled at him invitingly. It didn't really work. Harry knew many people used honeyed words to ensnare others, and he didn't want to become trapped despite his lack of experience there. "Shopping alone?"

"Yes."

"Oh, how come?"

Intrigued by the woman who seemed as much as a gossipmonger as his late aunt, although she seemed more subtle, Harry decided to tell her the truth. "My parents are dead. I'm just buying these," Harry's voice became ice-cold, hoping it would make the woman drop it.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the woman actually placed a hand to her mouth, but Harry wasn't touched by her intrusive manner. He ignored her later attempts at conversation, and he left the supermarket, weighed down by his purchases.

When Harry returned to his flat, he instantly got to work. He scrubbed the floors and the tops, dusting down the surfaces and counters, before deep cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen before he finally stopped. Taking a bath while he put the pizza into the oven, Harry decided to focus on his immediate plans for the future. Now he had a place to live, Harry needed to establish himself here. He needed to find out if there was a school here, and he would need to con his way inside. That was no problem thanks to the goblins, but there were so many other things he needed to sort through for himself.

Figg told him Dumbledore wanted him to be wretched, meek, shy, all the more perfect for his masterplan, but Harry had no intention of arriving at Hogwarts with that kind of facade. He had several ideas of what he could appear as when he turned up at the school for the first time, but he had a few years to go before he needed to decide on it. For the meantime, Harry would just focus on his life and he would continue to practice what magic he had available to him now. He had to make contacts, find fences and other criminals to learn from, develop and hone his skills as a burglar, and he hoped to find some martial artist dojos to learn how to properly defend himself. The last thing Harry wanted was to find himself in the same kind of hopeless position he had found himself in more than once at the hands of the Dursleys and not being strong enough to fight of Dudley. Another thing was he didn't want to keep depending on his powers to protect himself, and while he had little faith a punch would be enough to stop Dumbledore meddling in his life, it was better to have that skill than not to have it.

Between eating his pizza and watching TV, Harry slowly wrote down the list of things he would need to do.

Find a decent school, something better than the ones he'd had in the past.

Study the local area.

Enter into martial arts

See if there were abandoned houses and warehouses nearby where he could practice his spider crawling powers.

Commit burglaries.

Find other thieves to learn and practice from, and also find fences.

Number 6 on the list was likely going to be the hardest since burglars were hard to find, but even if he couldn't find them, Harry knew he was smart enough and imaginative enough to learn quickly and form his own style which was better than the one he'd used in Little Whinging.

XXX

Five months later.

The punch took Harry by surprise, and he staggered back into the gaggle of school kids who cheered on the fighters, one of which was him. Harry glared at his opponent, Andrew Mercer, a weasel-like kid who had quickly decided to bully Harry for reasons the smaller boy had never really understood. Sometimes Harry had the feeling he had a bullseye painted on his back, with all the bullies who ganged upon him.

While he was half laying on the crowd, Harry had a moment to think, to let his mind wander.

He had been in this school for four months now, after spending a month familiarising himself with his new neighbourhood, although he spent a great deal of his own time trying to find his way around, finding a warehouse where he had discovered he had far greater control and skill with the wall-crawling power he had discovered although he hadn't yet begun to commit any crimes yet. But he had found a martial arts dojo, and he found it quite good it was ninjutsu after the ninja fighting arts, although his research into them yielded a more serious, more different side to the ninjas when compared to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and despite being a newbie, Harry was putting a lot of effort into studying the martial art while at the same time he was looking out to develop expertise in something else further down the line.

When he arrived, no-one knowing anything about his past since no-one knew Harry Evans, except he was being brought up by his 'father,' who was Harry in disguise, but Harry doubted very much Mercer and others like him cared one little bit about that aspect about himself. No, he had the feeling they were just bullies who picked on anyone whom they just didn't like.

Mercer had been the only major drawback to this new London school; Harry had mostly kept himself to himself, although now Dudley wasn't around to cause him any problems to stop him having friends, that old conditioning remained. But despite trying to keep himself mostly undercover, Harry had reached out a little bit, tentatively. He had a couple of close friends, but nothing major while he didn't try to push the boundaries since he knew his lack of social experience meant he didn't know what a faux pas was when it came to friendship.

But Mercer didn't care about pushing boundaries. Harry's faith in authority figures had never been strong during his time in Little Whinging and they were not strong now since the teachers at this damn school didn't do much to Mercer; every time he was punished for bullying someone, he kept going back and causing more pain. Again and again.

Harry hadn't bothered to tell the teachers what the dickhead was doing because their punishments were worthless, in any case, he knew Mercer was a lot like the other bullies he had known when he'd been in Little Whinging. Unfortunately, his pseudo friends didn't think the same way, and they'd told the teachers, and Mercer clearly believed he (Harry) had tattled.

"You think you're funny, don't you, freak?" Mercer panted; the punching had winded him for some reason, but he realised the other boy was not only unathletic, but he was also not good at punching. But when he heard what Mercer had just said, Harry bit his lip in anger as he heard what the other boy had just called him.

Freak.

Was that the best Mercer could do?

It didn't matter, really. Harry prepared himself for the rest of the fight, pushing his emotions and locking them behind his occlumency barriers which he had been putting up for the last few months since he had gotten hold of his family's grimoire, and he went through his nascent knowledge of ninjutsu.

Mercer growled and sprang forward, preparing to snatch Harry and pull him forwards. But Harry sidestepped the other boy and he punched Mercer hard in the chest before shifting his body into a combat stance, while he brought his leg up, and kicked him in the stomach while pushing all of his magic into the blow.

Mercer let out a pained gasp or a cry, somewhere in between, and he collapsed to the ground. But Harry wasn't finished. He bent down and he punched the guy in the eye. Mercer cried out a gurgling cry of pain.

Harry slapped the boy in the face as he leaned down. "Okay, you sack of shit," he hissed, sounding like an angry snake. "If you ever bother anyone in this school again, not just me, I will bring my baseball bat into this school, and when I am finished with you… well, I hear sucking food out through a straw ain't pretty."

Message delivered, Harry stood up and walked away while the crowd parted.