Harry's life consisted of primary school during the daytime, making his own meals at home, and tutoring in the evenings.

In primary school he had finally been deemed smart enough to be moved up a year. But apparently they were very hesitant to move him any further up than that because they feared his social skills wouldn't develop properly. Harry couldn't exactly come out and tell them that they were wrong. And his antisocial behaviour with his peers didn't help matters.

Even though he wasn't moved up with the older students, they still provided him with work that was leagues above the year he was in. Harry hoped he'd be allowed to take his O-levels and A-levels before he went to Hogwarts. If not, then he'd sit them during the summer in the following years.

For his non-magical studies he'd managed to contact a few people who had been actual teachers when they were alive. He summoned them whenever he had any subject related questions, otherwise he mainly did self study.

In his magical subjects, Ignotus remained his main tutor. Eventually, other people were brought in to teach the subjects Ignotus didn't feel he would be able to cover well enough.

Cadmus had apparently been a potions master during his time, but had admitted that so much had changed in the field since he was alive that he felt teaching Harry alone would be an injustice towards his education. So instead of Cadmus taking the sole responsibility, he worked together with a recently deceased potions master from Columbia named Martin Rodriguez. Together they got his general knowledge from an acceptable to an outstanding. He soaked up the knowledge they were offering like a dry sponge.

They couldn't do any practical brewing yet since he lacked the right equipment and ingredients, but his potions theory was finally up to par.

Ignotus continued to teach him runes, arithmancy and blood magic. They had covered the most used runic alphabets and Harry felt like he held a good understanding of them and their use.

Runes was something he could practice extensively in his bedroom without the need for special equipment. In the beginning all he did was copy rune after rune until he could do the correct shape of each one in his sleep. Ignotus was very firm on that part. One misdrawn line could cause the whole runic array to change meaning or misfire, sometimes having grave consequences.

When it came to blood magic, Ignotus had taught him the basics, but since he didn't know the method of weaving family tapestries he had brought on the help of a sarcastic woman named Ophelia Gavras from Greece. She said the weaving technique she used had been passed down in her family for generations, but that she was happy to teach it to him. Her ungrateful grandchildren had scoffed at her knowledge when she tried to give it to them, 'and look at where they are now, dirt poor and barely able to feed their children' she'd said.

Apparently snubbing her had soured her disposition to the point of her deriving some vindictive satisfaction out of letting the family secrets go to someone else. Harry didn't complain.

Arithmancy was often used when creating your own spells, and Harry found the branch of magic very similar to muggle mathematics, a subject he'd had a natural knack for in school. He took to the subject like fish to water, and once again he cursed himself for not having picked different electives while he was at Hogwarts.

ΔΟΙ

Something Ignotus had been interested in learning, was exactly which sacrificial ritual Harry's mother had used. Harry himself was also curious, and so a meeting between the three had been set in motion a few days after their first lesson.

Before Harry summoned his mother and Ignotus, he transfigured some socks into a comfortable sitting group consisting of three plush chairs and a small table for himself. Even though the spirits didn't need the chairs, it made him feel more at ease, plus, he was sure his mother would appreciate the gesture.

On the table, one could find a well used notebook, a black pen, and a steaming cup of tea. The notebook was there in case he felt like something needed to be documented. He wanted to know everything he could about the ritual that saved his life, even if he realised that at the moment the information would probably go way over his head.

His eyes roamed over the area one last time, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Everything seemed to be in order so he sat down and called the spirits to himself.

"Hello darling." His mother greeted him softly and sat down in the chair facing him to the left.

Ignotus nodded his head in Harry's direction and took place in the other available chair.

"Good evening Mrs Potter. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I have made many speculations as to what kind of ritual it was you used that fatal night, and as such i am thrilled to finally be able to hear what you have to say!" Ignotus' inner scholar shone through at the prospect of solving a puzzle.

"Please, call me Lily." The redhead said with a laugh.

"Very well, then you may call me Ignotus." The old wizard acquiesced with a nod and a smile.

"Thanks for finally explaining what happened… Everyone seems to think I was the one who did something to defeat him. I mean come on, how stupid isn't that? I wasn't even out of nappies!" Harry gestured wildly.

"And Dumbledore kept saying how it was the 'power of love' that saved me." Here he made quotation marks with his fingers and scoffed. "But if that was true, then there would be plenty of children alive who had their mothers die for them, right? I don't know. It always sounded like rubbish to me." Harry mumbled sourly.

There was a snort coming from Ignotus. "The power of love" He muttered in incredulity. "Although love is indeed a powerful force, I sincerely doubt it would be able to achieve a feat such as that." The old man looked over to Lily. "Why don't you instead explain to us what you did?"

Lily bit her bottom lip. "You have to understand, by the time we knew that Voldemort was out to kill us, I knew I couldn't leave Harry's fate up to chance. I did what I had to do." She almost seemed nervous to admit what she had done. Harry wondered how bad it could be. He was fairly sure that she hadn't sacrificed anyone to save him, well, other than herself.

"In the beginning we went from safehouse to safehouse, always a step ahead of the Death Eaters. It was a very stressful time and James kept joining the Order on missions, fighting for the cause, as he called it. I begged him to stay home with me and Harry, but he felt that he had some sort of responsibility towards the Order. I suspect Dumbledore convinced him because James was a powerful dueller and easy to manipulate. He worshipped the very ground that old bastard walked on." Her lips thinned in anger at the mention of her old headmaster.

"I had to do something to keep you safe." She said and looked at her son. "Staying home alone made me feel so worthless, like I was nothing more than a trophy wife, only suitable for cooking and childrearing. Not that I would have left you alone with someone else even if I could, not at a time like that." The witch sighed.

"Sirius was just as devoted to fighting as James was, but I never managed to figure out if it was because he wanted to stand beside James or because he wanted to stick it to his family. It could have been either, both, or neither. One of the times he came to visit, and it was just you and me at home, I convinced him to get some books for me. Begged him actually. They… were quite illegal, and him being an Auror should have made him report me right away, but I knew he wouldn't. His idea of right and wrong has always been a bit messed up, probably because of his family. However, he loved you and his friends immensely, and would have broken every law in the world if it meant to keep you safe."

Harry listened with rapt attention. This was a view of the past that he'd never gotten before. It painted a vastly different picture than the stories he had been told after his parents death. They had been elevated almost to saints post mortem. But getting to know them now, with all their faults and quirks made them more real, more human.

And Sirius…hearing about him made Harry ache for the godfather he could have been if it wasn't for Azkaban and the war. One day he'd get him out. He wasn't ready right now, but one day he would be, he made a promise to himself.

"After a few weeks of searching he found one of the things I'd asked for, Ritualibus et Sanguinem Magicae. It was an old tome on Rituals and their connection to blood magic. Runes had always been one of my best subjects besides charms, and I realised that even though rituals were illegal, they were deeply connected to runes and could maybe provide the solution I was looking for. It gave me hope and a purpose."

"It took me some time to translate the content of the book. I had to be careful so James didn't see it, or what I was working on. I love him dearly but he is extremely biased when it comes to Dark magic. He hates it with fervour, no matter if it's a harmless ritual or runes infused with your own blood. In his eyes, Dark equals evil." She sighed. "I couldn't risk it. I have no idea what he would have done if he found out."

Harry frowned. "Were you worried he might hurt you?" He didn't like to think that his father would be capable of something like that, but sadly enough the memories from Snape did make it a possibility. He had a tendency towards cruelty when he felt it was justified.

"Heavens no!" Lily snorted. "And even if he'd tried, I would have had him on his arse and out of the house in minutes. Although I preferred not to be on the front lines of the war, I was very skilled with a wand." The redhead said with a mischievous smirk.

"No, I mostly worried that he would find a way to stop me. So, I worked in secret. When I'd finally translated the book, I settled on a ritual I thought might work. It needed some changes, but I was fairly confident. I invested all my time in making it just right. In the end I had no way to test it to be sure, I just had to pray and hope that it would work as it should. Clearly it did." Lily smiled lovingly at her son.

Harry swallowed away the lump in his throat. It felt so strange knowing that someone had loved him so much that they were willing to risk everything just to keep him safe.

"Which ritual was it?" Ignotus asked curiously.

"It was a sacrificial ritual meant to give the caster strength by blooding a witch or wizard. Essentially transferring some of that person's power over to the one who did the ritual. It didn't have to be voluntary. Obviously this wasn't what I wanted to happen, but I was able to change it to meet my criteria." Lily replied.

"Hmm, I think I know which ritual you speak of. It should be classified as Black magic, at least it was in my time. That ritual was designed to steal life and power from other living beings, and worked best if the sacrifice was unwilling. Nasty, nasty stuff." Ignotus explained with a grimace. "How did you manage to turn it into a protective ritual instead?"

"It wasn't easy," Lily replied. "It took months of work. I had to almost reverse it so that my willing sacrifice would power it."

The two spirits then went into arithmancy and rune theory that made Harry's head spin. It was like they were speaking Greek. It detailed runic arrays drawn in blood on both him and his mother amongst other things.

"You used sowilo as an anchor." Ignotus said in reverence. "Binding the rune to your blood and lifeforce, making the runic ritual activate once all the right requirements were met. I suspect your willing death was one of them?"

Lily nodded. "My death and blood. It took a while to prepare everything. It had to be done at the right moon phases for it to work to its full effect. That Voldemort chose to attack on Samhain was a strike of luck on our part. I suspect it strengthened the power of my sacrifice, making the protection more extensive."

"Is that why Quirrel burned when I touched him?" Asked Harry pensively.

"I suspect so." His mother replied.

"I wonder if it's still active or if me going back in time has changed it." Harry pondered.

"It should still be in effect, but it's impossible to tell without testing it. And I rather you didn't seek out my murderer at only five." Lily deadpanned and gave him a flat look.

"Hey! I have no such plans. Give me some credit will you? I'm in no rush to put myself in danger. I've had enough fighting for a lifetime."

"I wish you hadn't gone through all of that. It breaks my heart." His mother sighed. "Sometimes I think the best thing I could have done, would have been to take you and run off to Australia to raise you in secret. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part, but we probably could have made it, Voldemort never had much of a following outside of Britain."

"I'm sorry things went the way they did. But I'm glad I have a chance to get to know you now, even if you didn't get to raise me." Harry offered a small smile, fingers clutching his nearly cold cup of tea. He had mostly forgotten that he had it.

"Yes, so am I. Promise me you will give them hell for me? I will teach you some nasty and humiliating curses for anyone who tries to control or hurt you." she said with a malicious smile that promised pain for those who upset her baby.

Harry swallowed. "I promise. I'm my own person this time."

The trio went silent, each lost in their own thoughts. It took Ignotus to break it.

"You said blood was one of the requirements for the ritual to activate, yes? When did you put that in motion?" He asked the witch.

"When I took Harry and ran upstairs I'd already cut myself accidentally on some shrapnel. I used the blood from that and smeared a little on his forehead, over the sowilo rune that had been drawn in both our blood during one of the preparatory stages. Since it didn't require me to draw the rune again it wouldn't look suspicious. It was just a little blood that could have come from anywhere. "

The conversation on runes, blood, rituals and arithmancy continued between the two scholars, and Harry slowly nodded off in his chair, tea cold and forgotten on the table, and notebook untouched.

ΔΟΙ

Harry lived and breathed for his magical education in the following year, and by the time his sixth birthday came around, he was finally ready to start working on his family tapestry. The only problem was that he didn't have the tools or supplies he'd need. And the only places he could get them were in Diagon Alley, or similar shopping districts abroad.

It posed a problem that he wasn't quite sure how to solve. He was physically too young to go to Diagon Alley alone, and he didn't want to take Petunia with him. First of all she was a liability, and secondly her hatred for magic made persuading her to go there more effort than Harry was willing to expend.

Option number two was Imperioing a muggle to chaperone him. It was the option he was leaning most towards. If he found a woman with dark hair then she could pose as his mother for the duration of the trip without arousing suspicion.

It wouldn't be the first time he used the Imperius curse and probably wouldn't be the last either. He wasn't someone who enjoyed taking away people's free will, but for a short duration of time, and if the action posed no risk to the person, then he'd condone it. He realised that it was probably massively selfish and hypocritical, but that was just the way it was.

Option three was talking to Death and asking him to be his chaperone. With Harry being his anchor he would be able to take a physical form in the realm of the living.

Harry had talked to him a few times since the train and they now held a more amicable relationship. Death clearly cared about him even though Harry was still miffed about the whole 'not being able to die' thing.

"Sweetheart, you're sulking." His mother said, bringing him out of his musings.

"Just call him, you know he won't deny you."

"But I don't want to call him" Harry whined. "He's always so nice"

"Yes because that is absolutely terrible. Heaven forbid someone is nice to you. How awful." Lily drawled sarcastically and rolled her eyes at her son's antics.

"Fine, fine." Harry sighed. "I'll summon him tomorrow. Happy now?"

"Yes." His mother grinned at him.

Harry rolled his eyes.

ΔΟΙ

The day after, he did as promised and summoned Death. The being took the familiar form of the elder gentleman he'd first met. Unlike the other spirits Harry could summon, Death came in a fully physical package that could interact with the world around it.

"You called, Master?" The deity queried with a fond smile. Even though he was no servant, the title of Master had stuck and he seemed to get some sort of amusement out of teasing Harry with it.

Sometimes Harry wondered if Death viewed him a bit like a pet, one you'd indulge in almost anything. His mother said that she didn't think that was the case, but couldn't be sure since the only time she'd met the being was when she'd died. Apparently Harry was a rare case there too.

"Yes." Harry sighed.

"I need to go to Diagon Alley soon, or somewhere similar so I can do some shopping. My magical education is at a bit of a standstill at the moment for subjects that require supplies and tools. Problem is that I'm still tiny. Going alone as I am will draw too much attention. "

"And therefore you are in need of a chaperone." Death replied with a hum. "I take it you wish for me to accompany you?"

"Yeah. After that I should be able to brew some polyjuice potion so I can go on my own. I'm starting to go stir crazy over here. I need those supplies." Harry confessed with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. It now fell nearly to his shoulders. Just like he'd hoped, the length took away some of the wildness and instead left wavy locks.

Harry felt like the style gave him more of an aristocratic, wizarding look. He liked it. However he didn't think he'd let it get any longer than to the shoulders.

"I will join you on your trip whenever you are ready. " Death agreed with a nod. "Do you wish to proceed right away or do you need more time?"

Harry blinked in bemusement. Sure, he'd expected Death to say yes, because up until now he'd never denied Harry anything, but he hadn't expected him to be available right this minute.

"Uhm...just give me like ten minutes and then I'll be ready?" Harry asked.

He got a nodding agreement.

Harry quickly jumped down from his chair and ran over to his wardrobe. He pulled out a shirt that no longer fit him and transfigured it into a simple robe to put over his clothes. It wouldn't last forever but it would do its job for the duration of the trip.

Next on the agenda was the colour of his hair. More than once had he wished that he had the metamorphmagus ability like Tonks did. It would have made his life so much easier. Nevertheless, Harry managed to change his hair from pitch black to a sandy blonde with a charm his mother had taught him.

His scar was still pink, but it was no longer raised or exceedingly prominent. It would fade with time. But for now it was a liability and he needed it gone. For that purpose he'd nicked a concealer from Petunia's makeup bag.

Using a conjured hand mirror, Harry applied the makeup over the scar, making it nearly invisible to the naked eye. He did a final scan over himself and deemed the masking job adequate.

When he turned to Death the being was no longer there. Or rather, in his place stood a sandy blonde woman with blue eyes and a modest dress. It looked expensively made and well tailored. The gold embroidery shimmered against the black fabric in a way he'd only ever seen wizarding attire do.

Harry blinked. "Er… Death?" He asked the woman just to be sure. She looked too solid to be a spirit however.

The woman nodded, long, wavy locks of blonde hair bobbing along with the movement.

"Yes. I thought I could pose as your mother. However if this form makes you uncomfortable I can change it to your liking." Her voice was soft and gentle, like a warm summer breeze.

"Er… no it's fine. Thank you." They did in fact look like mother and son now, so that made the plan even safer.

Harry thought about how they were going to get to the Alley. They could take the train to London but it would be unnecessarily time consuming, not to mention expensive. He only had the bits and bobs that he'd squirreled away from Petunia over the past year. It wasn't much though and a train trip for two would completely deplete his stores. He needed to go to Gringots to withdraw some money from the Peverell vault. He didn't dare use his Potter trust vault. He had no idea if Dumbledore had any control or insight into it, but seeing as he had the key in his possession that made everything highly suspicious.

The second option was taking the Knight Bus, but Harry had no Knuts or Sickles on him which rendered that option moot.

That only left Apparating. Harry wondered if Death was able to take them.

"Can you Apparate us to the Alley?" Harry asked.

Death quirked her head in thought.

"No. Apparition is not within my abilities. My magic differs from that of witches and wizards. I am able to travel through shadows though. It is a skill you yourself will also be able to do with practice. It comes from the gifts I gave you. In return for being my anchor to the mortal realm you gained a fraction of my power. To me, it is inconsequentially small, but to you it will prove quite a boost I should imagine."

That was something Harry hadn't known. He gaped at Death. He thought he was done with being surprised by the deity's proclamations, but apparently not.

Harry shook off his stupor and gave the woman a stern look, as stern as a six year old face could get at least. "We'll talk about that later. For now I'd like you to transport us to the Alley, preferably without being noticed."

"Of course, Master." The woman replied with a beaming smile and twinkling eyes. She held out her hand for the young boy.

Harry glared at her. Why was it that he always felt like some sort of cute, furry little animal that the deity could coo over and pet whenever she was around?

"This will be fun!" Death chirped happily.

Harry wasn't sure he agreed. He gave her a wary look before grasping on to the offered hand. He had a bad feeling that Death was going to screw with him on this trip.

The world around them dissolved into black smoke, and from one step to the next they were in the back of the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had to admit that it was the most comfortable form of magical travel he'd experienced so far. Neither Floo, Portkey or Apparition seemed to agree with him much. Maybe it was a practice thing? He didn't know.

Death held on to his hand and tapped the bricks serving as the entrance to Diagon Alley with her free hand. The brick wall shifted and moved, opening up to the cacophony of sound and colours that was England's magical shopping district.

Until now, Harry hadn't realised just how much he'd missed the energy and vibrancy that came with being saturated with magic on all fronts. He soaked in the ambient magic and sighed softly. It was still the early hours of a Friday morning, so the streets were not as full as later in the day. Witches and wizards milled about the Alley quickly to get to where they needed to go.

"Come along Tom, we have to get to Gringotts before we can do our shopping. Maybe if you're good I'll get you a treat!" His 'mother' chirped cheerfully.

Tom? Harry almost sputtered out loud, his brain coming to an abrupt halt. Oh she was good, really good, playing the part of doting young mother perfectly. Harry glared at the being before playing along. She was there to provide him a disguise after all.

Technically he didn't have anything to complain about since she was doing a stellar job, but Harry thought she was deriving way too much amusement out of it on his behalf.

The supposed mother and son walked hand in hand to the enormous, white, marble bank. It stood out starkly among the colourful and odd wizarding shops. Harry had always thought it was rather beautiful in its clean elegance.

They nodded their heads in a polite greeting to the goblin on guard outside the doors to Gringotts, earning one in return.

Once inside, Harry's eyes were immediately drawn to the spot where he and his friends had broken out of the bank on the back of a dragon. The poor thing was probably still in the darkness underneath. Harry felt pity for it. It didn't deserve the pain and fear that was it's current life. A majestic creature being chained up like that was just sad. He wondered if there was something he could do to help.

However, he wouldn't be breaking in, or out again, that was for sure. The goblin race was one he preferred to have on his good side. Destroying their bank and stealing a dragon would surely put him on top of their hit list.

"It's our turn now Tom. One of the tellers are free." Death said, guiding the reminiscing child over to the available till.

"Greetings master goblin ." Death spoke politely in the goblin language, causing the tellers eyes to widen with surprise. The guttural sounds had been pronounced perfectly and with ease.

Language didn't seem to be a barrier for the deity, which made sense really, Harry thought. What did surprise him however, was the fact that he could understand what was being said. He wondered if it was because he was holding Death's hand.

"My charge would like to access his vault. But first, we would like to do an inheritance test, in private please." The woman continued.

If the goblin was surprised by this request it didn't show. He had gotten his facial expression under control quickly after the first slip.

With a sharp nod, the teller called for another goblin to take them into one of the private offices. Harry was glad to note that it wasn't Griphook, the backstabbing traitor.

The walls of the office were luxuriously decorated with artwork of great battles, and silvery weapons. It was the first time Harry had been in one of them. In the past, his trips to Gringotts had consisted of going quickly in and out of his vault, nothing more.

A door opened and what seemed to be an elderly goblin with white, thinning hair stepped inside. He greeted his clients with a brusque nod before seating himself behind an intricately carved desk, looking over at them shrewdly.

"I am master Ragnok, how may Gringotts be of service?" He said curtly, words almost a sneer.

"We would like an inheritance test for my charge." Death answered without missing a beat or being put out by the others attitude.

"Inheritance tests cost 100 Galleons." The goblin said, steepling his long, talon-like fingers together and looking at the blonde woman over his glasses.

Harry thought he came across as haughty and not expecting Death and him to be able to pay the cost.

"That will be no problem." Death replied with a sweet smile. "Darling, show the nice goblin your ring."

Harry didn't know what good it would do, but did as he was told, holding out his left hand so the signet ring was clearly visible.

The only sign of the ring meaning anything to Ragnok, was the slight widening of his eyes. Other than that, the goblin kept his composure well.

"The Peverell ring," Ragnok mused. "It hasn't been seen in generations, much less been worn."

The sharp gaze that had evaluated Death had now moved to focus solely on Harry. Apparently wearing the ring meant something special. Harry wondered if Ragnok knew about his status as the Master of Death and the ring's powers. He hoped not. It wasn't something he wanted as public knowledge. He had developed a distrust for the living, rightfully so, he thought.

"Very well." Ragnok raptly agreed. "Gringotts will issue the test for the standard fee agreed upon."

The goblin reached into a desk drawer and pulled out what looked like a large, gold and silver cube with inlaid gems. It made Harry think of one of those puzzle boxes with how the metal was sectioned into parts. The top held a small, round, runic seal, engraved into what Harry assumed was a ruby.

Unintelligible runes went along the upper edge of the cube, making him wonder what kind of runic alphabet they belonged to as he'd never seen anything similar.

Ragnok pressed a gnarled finger against the seal on top, and the seal, along with the upper sections of metal, dissolved into nothing. Out from the box came seven round crystals, each glowing a different colour. One of them was larger than the others and took a position in the middle with the other crystals orbiting it. It reminded Harry of an atom with the way the crystals moved around the core.

The beautiful gems hovered over the box they came out of and Harry could barely take his eyes away from them.

"Give me your hand, dear, the left one." Death said, moving Harry's attention onto herself.

He placed his hand in hers, and without using a wand or speaking a word, a small, nearly painless cut appeared at the tip of his middle finger.

A thick, red, drop of blood welled up and Death guided his finger over to the strange contraption. She placed it on the softly glowing opal in the middle of the box.

The runic circle around the opal suddenly lit up, and Harry felt the blood, along with a thread of his magic being sucked into it. He startled and quickly yanked his hand away, but it was already over.

Ragnok noticed the child's alarm and began explaining the contraption and its purpose.

"Each individual who signs up with Gringotts, either through opening a new vault, inheriting one or being employed by the bank, has to donate a drop of their blood and magic. The sample goes into a filing system of sorts that it cannot be withdrawn from." While he talked, the orbs rapidly changed colours.

"The blood and magic you just gave is being checked against previous samples to see if there are any heirships or vaults you are eligible to inherit. Inheritances that aren't bequeathed to a family member, or that you have no claim to through blood and, or, magic, will have to be looked up through name." The goblin explained.

"What do the crystals do?" Harry asked curiously.

"The six smaller crystals act as a magical energy source for the artefact to process the samples you just gave. The one in the middle is the actual information base. It is linked to this parchment," here Ragnok gestured to a piece of parchment laying on his desk. "Which will display what you are eligible to inherit."

The entire process turned out to be much more intricate than Harry had expected. For some reason he thought there would be something like a potion that would list all his vaults and titles, but no. He was kinda glad though, this method seemed much more thorough.

He watched as words appeared on the parchment. From where he sat he couldn't see what it said, but it still filled him with relief that the artefact was working.

As soon as the writing stopped, the crystals dimmed and floated back down into the box one by one, the smaller ones first, followed by the large one last. The lid materialised out of nowhere, along with the seal, closing the box shut. Lastly, the glow of the opal died out, leaving only a pretty cube on the desk. It looked very inconspicuous considering what it actually was.

Ragnok picked up the parchment and read through it. Harry couldn't see the goblins expression, but there was a thoughtful hum coming from him.

"You are full of surprises Mr Potter." Ragnok said, the words making Harry freeze inside.

The grip he had on Death's hand tightened as his panic started to rise. Paranoia struck hard. How did the goblin know? Had he informed anyone? Was this whole thing just a ploy to buy time so Dumbledore could arrive and obliviate them all?

Harry's breathing sped up, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Calm down, Master." Death's voice murmured quietly next to his ear. "The test shows the Potter vaults, you are the only Potter left so it was a logical leap for him, nothing more."

Her dainty hand gently squeezed his, the action and words grounding him into reality. He got himself under control and felt embarrassed about his overreaction. He wondered if picking up Occlumency again would be a good idea. He had planned on starting it eventually, but this incident proved that the sooner the better. Hopefully being able to protect his mind would provide some control over his emotions.

Ragnok had watched the entire thing with shrewd eyes. "I am not able to disclose what happens during this meeting to anyone if that is your concern Mr Potter. "

Harry looked inquiringly at Death for guidance. The woman gave him a quick nod which soothed his concerns.

"Oh, good. What does the parchment say?"

"There are a few things that were expected, like the Potter and Peverell vaults, and a few that I have to admit came as quite the surprise." Ragnok replied.

The parchment was handed over to Death as she was posing as his guardian at the moment.

"How curious." She uttered as her eyes scanned the document.

The parchment was then passed over to Harry so he could have a look.

His eyes widened the further down he got.

Available vaults, titles and properties

Potter estate

Titles: Lord Potter - Right by blood and magic

Vaults: 410, 484, 812

Properties: Potter Cottage - Godric's Hollow

Peverell estate

Titles: Lord Peverell - Right by blood and magic

Vaults: 106

Properties: Île de Anastasie - English Channel

Slytherin estate

Titles: Heir presumptive - Right by blood and magic

Vaults: N.A

Properties: N.A

Black estate

Titles: N.A

Vaults: 702

Properties: N.A

Most of what was written he'd expected, like the Potter and Peverell estates. Ignotus had told him that only those with a natural gift for necromancy would be able to inherit the title, which explained why his father hadn't been able to pick it up.

The Black vault he figured came from Sirius. He hadn't known about it in his first life, but then again, he'd never actually had the time to touch any of what he inherited from his godfather, except from Grimmauld Place and Kreacher.

What did surprise him however, was how many vaults the Potter estate held. He'd been under the assumption that his trust vault was all there was. No one ever told him any different.

Lastly came the Slytherin estate. That had completely blindsided him. He didn't see how it could be correct. The Horcrux was gone from his scar so there shouldn't be any connections between him and Voldemort anymore. If the parchment was correct though, that made his second year at Hogwarts all the more ironic. He'd actually been the heir of Slytherin.

"What does heir presumptive mean?" He asked Death hesitantly.

"It means that unless the current Lord Slytherin has any children, then you are next in line to inherit. If he dies childless then the lordship goes to you." She explained calmly.

"I suspect you may have some ties to that bloodline through your mother. She never took an inheritance test, correct?" She turned to Ragnok and inquired.

"You assume correctly. This type of test is not often requested due to the price, and it is not well known amongst those of muggle descent. Mrs Potter neé Evans never asked for one." Ragnok confirmed.

"Now, unless you have any objections, I will have to send word to the account managers of each estate Mr Potter has inherited something from. They will be able to walk you through the titles, vaults and properties you have inherited, as well as the contents of your vaults."

Harry frowned. He didn't want to be revealed to more people but it sounded like he had no choice.

"They aren't allowed to tell anyone that I've talked to them right?" Harry asked.

"The Black and Slytherin manager may inform the Lord of their respective estate if the Lord enquires about it. However, they are not obligated to inform them without being questioned. Since you are the last member of the Potter and Peverell estate, the same does not apply. You are technically the Head of both families." Ragnok explained.

Harry nodded, his worries assuaged. Voldemort was still incorporeal and wouldn't be speaking with his account manager any time soon. As for the Black Lord… Harry had to admit that he didn't know who he was. Sirius had been in control of the Black estate by the time he broke out of Azkaban, which meant that whoever Lord Black was, would most likely die within the next few years.

"Please send for the Peverell and Black manager. If it's possible I'd like to make an appointment with the Potter and Slytherin manager at a later date." Harry said firmly.

If Ragnok was surprised by this, or by the fact that Harry's supposed guardian was deferring to a six year old child, then he didn't show it. The goblin nodded and wrote something down on a piece of parchment. The note was placed into a small, carved, wooden box. The runes on the lid lit up within a minute and Ragnok opened it, pulling out a different note.

"The Peverell and Black managers will be here within ten minutes." Ragnok relayed the information from the note.

"While you are speaking with them I will cross check your name against any non related beneficiaries. I suspect there are many who have left you something in their wills after your supposed defeat of the Dark Lord."

"What? Really?" Harry was startled. It had never even crossed his mind before that people who didn't know him would want to write him into their wills.

He should have suspected it though, he was a 'hero' in the eyes of the public after all. That made him think of mail. Shouldn't he have gotten some? Even just a thank you note? Not that he wanted fanmail, but famous people got fanmail all the time didn't they? Could Dumbledore have done something to redirect the mail? He decided to discuss it with his mother and Ignotus when he got home.

"Yes. It was quite common, especially for minor Houses who lost all of their heirs in the war." Ragnok answered with a nod.

"If you find anything, can we schedule another meeting later?" He asked. Just like with the Potter and Slytherin estate, he wanted to make his visit as quick as possible this time around.

Harry was incredibly curious about the Potter estate and what people may have willed to him, but he had a feeling it would take him all day to go through it. Right now all he wanted was some money so he could get his shopping out of the way. He knew mostly what the Peverell estate had in store for him, Ignotus had informed him before he left, and his inheritance from the Black estate only held one vault and no titles so he figured it wouldn't take too long.

Ragnok agreed to set up a new meeting in a week, then left. Harry remained seated next to Death.

It didn't take long for the door to open again. Two unfamiliar goblins entered. The first one, an ancient looking, surly goblin with glasses and barely any hair, introduced himself as Grapnok, account manager to the Blacks. The second, a much younger goblin with slicked back, black hair and a haughty look on his face, introduced himself as Raatok, the Peverell account manager.

Harry immediately took a dislike to both of them, each for different reasons. He didn't voice his opinion out loud though.

"My charge was informed by master Ragnok that he has a vault from the Black family. We would like to get that out of the way first before we deal with the Peverell estate." Death said primly.

"Very well." Grapnok's gravelly voice replied as he hobbled over to the desk.

The elderly goblin placed a thick book in front of himself and flipped the pages in silence, ignoring the other occupants of the room. A finger trailed down the contents of the page until it stopped.

"Ah, it seems one Sirius Orion Black set up a trust vault for his godson Henry James Potter, January 22nd, 1980. "

Harry blinked dumbfounded at Grapnok. Had he heard wrong or did the goblin just call him Henry? It had to be a mistake, surely? The goblin was practically ancient, maybe he read it wrong… either way it was definitely another thing he had to bring up with his mother when he got home. The list just kept getting longer. He sighed internally. Merlin how he hated surprises.

"Vault 702 currently contains 820 Galleons, 136 Sickles and 427 Knuts." Grapnok said and looked up at Harry.

It was a lot more than Harry had expected from that vault. He wondered why Sirius never mentioned it in his previous life. Had the man thought that he'd already used it up?

Harry looked over at Death and squeezed her hand, hoping she'd be able to take charge of this meeting, at least until the Black account manager was out of the room. He didn't trust Grapnok not to go blabbing to whoever was Lord Black at the moment.

"We would like a new key to the vault made and any others invalidated." Death demanded.

Grapnok sneered at Harry's guardian but seemed to comply. A note was sent through the message box, the same one Ragnok had used earlier.

"A new key can be picked up at the entrance in half an hour. All other keys have been disconnected from the vault. Sirius Orion Black will however still have access to the vault until the day Mr Potter turns seventeen, as is stipulated in the contract." He offered sourly.

Death nodded. "That is acceptable, thank you master Grapnok. There is nothing further today."

The wrinkly, old goblin bared his sharp teeth in a sneer, then nodded. He closed his book and hobbled back out of the room.

The Peverell manager had the entire time this went on seemed impatient, as if he was too good to be there, and now that it was just him and the two 'humans' left, he finally let his true colours shine.

"So what is this nonsense about a child being the Peverell Lord?" Raatok sneered demeaningly. "I don't believe it for one second. You're lying. There hasn't been a Peverell Lord for generations."

Death raised an eyebrow and stared back just as disdainfully. "Mind your tongue." She said sharply. "Have your elders taught you nothing?" She cocked a blonde eyebrow. "An inheritance test does not lie, nor do we. It is most unwise to insult your clients."

Raatok's face twisted in insulted anger. Harry watched the scene unfold with bemused fascination. He couldn't ever remember having met such an unpleasant goblin. Griphook had been a backstabbing arsehole, but this guy was just so full of himself. This had to be Raatok's only job, surely other people wouldn't agree to being treated like this? Harry thought.

The two beings rapidly exchanged words, Death getting more and more annoyed and Raatok nearing a stage of apoplectic rage. Harry thought he behaved like an entitled toddler with a tantrum. Actually, he reminded him a bit of Dudley.

"I see that we will get nowhere with this." Death finally stated. With a simple gesture a large moth appeared in her hand. She guided it to her mouth and whispered something before sending it to fulfil its task.

Harry inspected the moth as it flew away, finding it eerily beautiful with its brown and yellow hues. On its back were a white marking that resembled a skull. He had never seen an insect like it before.

The moth flew straight through the closed door, behaving like a messenger Patronus, which made him wonder whether it was actually solid or it just looked like it. He was leaning towards the latter. It probably was some fancy death magic.

Raatok's tirade about Harry not being the Peverell Lord kept going, he didn't even notice when the door opened and Ragnok stepped in.

"What is this?" The senior accountant hissed, causing the younger one's head to snap around, stopping his vitriol mid-sentence.

"Have you no shame? Embarrassing Gringotts like this in front of clients. You should be sent back to the carts! Never in all my years working here have I experienced such despicable behaviour. You shame your clan Raatok." Ragnok sneered.

The younger goblin sputtered and tried to defend himself.

"But master Ragnok, he is just a child! Clearly they are lying! To open the Peverell vault and claim the Lordship he has to have gone through magical maturity and gained necromantic abilities. He's only six. It's impossible!" He retorted hotly, gesturing wildly towards Harry.

Ragnok gave the Peverell manager a hard look. "It does not matter to Gringotts if he's six or three hundred, the test does not lie. You know this!"

"Um… is it possible to change managers?" Harry's tiny voice broke through the tense argument. His eyes darting between the two. Raatok looked incensed and deeply offended, whereas Ragnok was practically gleeful at the suggestion.

"Yes, it is more than possible. All it requires is for you to sign a document Mr Potter." Ragnok replied with a shark-like grin, black eyes glittering.

"Wha-!? You can't just sign over the position! It's been in my clan for generations!" Raatok blustered, incensed at the very suggestion.

"Well, perhaps it would still be with your clan if it wasn't for your shameful behaviour." Ragnok replied merrily. He turned to face Harry "Did you have someone particular in mind Mr Potter?"

"Well, if you're not too busy master Ragnok, I thought maybe you could do it?" Harry said, and if anything, the goblin's dark eyes gleamed even stronger at the suggestion.

"Oh it would be my pleasure Mr Potter." Ragnok grinned, looking like the cat who got the canary.

It sounded like the Peverell estate still held some value with the goblins, it made Harry curious just how much it was actually worth.

ΔΟΙ

"Now that we've gotten that sorted, we should be able to go through your assets together. And may I thank you for this opportunity. I've wanted to stick it to that clan for ages. I won't bother you, or your guardian with goblin business, Mr Potter, but know that I greatly appreciate it." Ragnok said as he put away the contract he and Harry had just signed in their own blood.

For Ragnok to be this happy about his new position must mean that there was a significant amount of gold and status involved. Harry honestly didn't mind if the goblin boosted his reputation or pockets from his interactions with him. All Harry cared about was having a manager that he could somewhat trust, and if not exactly trust, then get along with and be taken seriously by.

"Did you find any wills with my name in it?" Harry enquired curiously.

"Yes, in fact there were quite a lot. All varying in value. Some bequeathed money, artefacts or other gifts, and some even left property. I will need to look through it more closely before i can give you a complete list, but I will have it ready for when we meet again next week." Ragnok replied and opened the book and folder that he'd taken from Raatok.

"The Peverell estate, however, will be easier to deal with." He continued, eyes scanning the pages in front of him.

"I will try to be quick, as you seem eager to get on with your day. " Ragnok's lips twitched in a faint smirk.

"This," he said and held out a silver key with the Peverell crest on, "is the key to your vault. Normally you would have to try on the Lordship ring first to see if it would accept you, but seeing as you are already wearing it, that point is moot."

Harry took the key with his tiny hand and softly brushed his finger over the familiar crest. It was the same as the symbol on his ring, that of the Deathly Hallows.

"The property that comes with the Peverell estate have, according to these files, not been tended to for a very long time due to the family wards. I cannot say what kind of condition the house or surrounding land will be in. The wards are still standing strong, keeping out anyone who isn't family or have been accepted by the Head of House, which is now you. I expect that you might find some sort of book or stone within the property that is connected to the warding scheme, allowing you to give others access if you so wish."

Harry had already been told about the property by his ancestor so he nodded at Ragnok's explanation. He expected it to be severely overgrown. Hopefully the house itself hadn't rotted away.

"Île de Anastasie, or Resurrection Island as it is also called, is located somewhere in the English channel. The island has been made unplottable and therefore I can't help you with more accurate directions. However, I suspect that you might find some clues in your vault." Ragnok explained.

Harry didn't actually need any clues to find the island. Ignotus had already informed him about the directions for it. He planned on asking Death if she could take him there by shadow travel one day soon. That way he could apparate there himself the next time. He hoped to be able to turn the island into a sort of base for himself. Freedom from the Dursleys and the world was alluring.

"The contents in vault 106, aside from money, consists of various books, weapons, artefacts, furniture, jewellery and other miscellaneous items. I have a comprehensive list here for your perusal." Ragnok said as he duplicated a stack of parchment and handed it over to Harry.

"When it comes to monetary funds, the last Peverell Lord allowed Gringotts to use the liquid assets in the vault towards investments that might prove profitable for both the Peverell family and the bank. This was in 1648, and Gringotts has since then increased the value of the Peverell estate by over five million Galleons."

Green eyes were wide as saucers as he listened to the amount of money in the Peverell vault, his vault. Ignotus had spoken to Gerrard Peverell, the man who closed down the island because there was no eligible heirs with the talent of necromancy to take over the Lordship, and he said that the vault at the time contained only around 20 000 G.

No wonder that Raatok's clan had been so happy about keeping the manager position within their ranks. A 10% commission for the manager was huge.

"B-but… That's…" He didn't know what to say. He'd thought his trust vault from his parents had made him rich when he first saw it, even if it would barely cover him out of Hogwarts if he spent it frugally. But this? It was an incomprehensible amount to a boy who'd grown up in a cupboard with only ratty hand-me-downs and too little food. Harry opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

"Quite a lot, indeed." Ragnok smirked. "And seeing as your manager gets 10% of any investments, well, let's just say that it is a very lucrative position."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "explains why you were so happy to take over the job, not that I mind." He looked intensely at the senior manager. "As long as you keep my secrets and talk to me like an adult, I don't see why we can't have an exceedingly fruitful business relationship."

He returned Ragnok's shark-like grin. Of course, with his own blunt, pearly whites, it didn't make quite the same impression, but the expression was nonetheless very disturbing to see on a child.

"I look forward to it Mr Potter, or should I call you Lord Peverell now?" Ragnok retorted with a mockingly raised eyebrow.

Harry snorted. "No, Mr Potter will do for now. Just don't say it in public."

Ragnok tilted his head in acquiesce.

"Would you like to visit the Peverell vault before you leave? If not I can arrange for a money pouch to be brought up."

Although there was plenty he'd like to have a closer look at in the vault itself, especially the books and artefacts, he didn't want to take up any more time.

"Just the money, please. I think I'll have a look after our next meeting. Could you withdraw 10 000 Galleons for me?" Harry asked, feeling hesitant about taking out that much money. It was practically a fortune to him even if it didn't make a drop in the ocean that was the Peverell vault.

"Certainly." Ragnok said, making a note of it. "Gringotts offer money pouches with added Feather-Light and Extension charms on them for a fee of 5 galleons. Considering how much you plan on withdrawing I would recommend getting one. That much gold is quite heavy."

"Oh. Yeah that'd be great. Just charge it from my vault along with the fee for the inheritance test." Harry replied.

"Very well. Is there anything else I can do for you today?" Ragnok inquired as he stipled his claw-like fingers together.

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think s-" He abruptly stopped and frowned. There had been that issue with the post. He didn't know for sure, but it did sound plausible that there was something interfering with the owls. "-actually, I think someone might be intercepting my mail. Is it possible for me to buy something similar to those boxes you use?" He gestured to the carved box on Ragnok's desk.

The goblin seemed thoughtful. "It isn't normally done, but I suppose I could make an exception, for a fee of course." He said and smirked.

"Of course." Harry snorted. "I wouldn't have expected anything less. So, how much?"

"I cannot say just yet. I will have to bring it up with our crafters first. However, it should be ready by our next meeting."

The child nodded his head. "Alright. Then we have an agreement. Until then, please don't send me any owls. I don't know who might read them, although I have my suspicions." Dumbledore was the top contender. Although, whether he actually read the letters, or just collected them somewhere, was still in question.

"As you wish." Ragnok gave a quick nod. "Well then Mr Potter. I shall see you again next Friday."

Harry smiled and jumped down from the chair he'd been sitting in. "Thank you for all your help today master Ragnok." He bowed politely. "I look forward to our meeting next week."

"As do I, Mr Potter." Ragnok replied, giving an equally respectful nod without having to get out of his chair.

Harry and his chaperone left the office and collected the money and keys at one of the tills. Finally he could do what he came to the Alley for.

Let the shopping begin!

AN: Hello and thank you all for reading! I have received some absolutely wonderful reviews and they all warm my heart. For those of you worrying about me not updating regularly, there is no need. I already have 21 chapters written (about 90k words) and still going strong. Posting times will be Mondays and Wednesdays for now.