Dressed in a heavy robe that obscured his appearance, Harry stepped through the front doors of Gringotts, walking up to the nearest teller. "I'm here to have a meeting with Director Ragnok," he curtly told them.

The teller didn't even bother looking up as he counted through a stack of gold. "Director Ragnok is extremely busy. Meetings are scheduled three months in advance, and can only be done by individuals possessing high level vaults…"

The sound of metal scraping metal brought him out of his speech as the goblin looked up to see the blade of a sword. His eyes widened as he took in the extraordinary craftsmanship, which to the well-trained eye could easily tell it was beyond the skill of even goblin craftsmanship.

"I'm sure you can bump me in about now," Harry told him curtly.

"R-Right this way…"

As the goblin led him through to the upper levels of the bank, Harry mentally ran over his plan in his head again. It was vital for him to obtain early support from the goblins, however their distrust of humans and wizards ran deep, and in the early stages of his rule the goblins had nearly rebelled again. The only thing they respected was a good deal, however Harry could give them much more than a good deal.

"Director Ragnok," the young goblin squeaked as he burst into his office. "Someone is here to see you!"

The Director was a massive goblin, bigger than the rest, and the teller cowered under his hard, wicked gaze, before resting on the figure behind him. Harry revealed his sword once more, and surprise registered in him, as he attempted to regain his composure. "Please," he spluttered, "have a seat."

Harry threw off his cloak, having decided to go without disguise, dressed immaculately in a tailored suit before taking the proffered seat.

The two sat there for a minute as the teller left, regarding each other, Ragnok with caution, Harry with neutral coolness. Finally the former Emperor spoke. "You won't see a sword like this, not even for another three thousand years if wizard society continues as it does. Even by then, the closest your goblins will get will be cheap knockoffs that look nothing like my own. And no, I am not going to provide you the means to forge a weapon like this. The reason why I revealed it is because I know you goblins respect fine craftsmanship, and I have a deal to offer you."

Finally Ragnok spoke, his lips curled into a sneer. "There are many goblins in this bank. Why could we not just kill you and take it for ourselves?"

Harry's grip on the sword tightened, and the goblin was in for another shock as blue energy began pulsing off the blade in a light glow. "I assure you, that would be a very, very foolish thing to do. But trust me, what I can offer you will benefit your race a whole lot more in the long run than a sword which can never be reproduced."

"I'm listening."

"You already know who I am. You know that I have great prominence with wizards, and if we play our cards right that prominence will spread even more. Gold will flow into Gringotts like it never has before, and after that…equality. Goblins and wizards will be on an equal level."

Ragnok raised an eyebrow. "How do I know you'll hold to your end of the bargain, if what you say can even be done?"

"I'll start with a little opening offer, or taster, of what I am going to bring," he said with a small smile. "First off, the location of Atlantis."

Ragnok burst from his seat in anger. "Impossible! Atlantis has been lost for several thousand years!"

"I assure you I know of its location and have known so for some time," Harry answered levelly. "That should only add credence to what I am saying. You know as well as I do that the Atlanteans' knowledge of enchanting and crafting metals has all but vanished from the magical world, and that the goblins, advanced as they are, pale in comparison to them. Such knowledge would only strengthen the position of the goblin race. Why would I wish to add such power to the goblin name if I were planning to betray you?" Harry pulled a tattered papyrus from his suit, handing it over.

Ragnok pulled out a large magnifying glass as he unfurled it, studying it before realising that it was, indeed, genuine. Suddenly, he burst into a grin, showing massive, sharp rows of teeth. "Well Mr. Potter, you've caught my interest. What do you propose?"

"I would like to propose a joint venture between myself and the goblins, a business enterprise funded and regulated by your race and spearheaded by me, acting as its figurehead and CEO," he began. "An enterprise that not only encompasses the magical world but muggle also. Not only will you make a considerable sum of gold, far more, I assure you, than all your business stakes put together, but you will help me pave the circumstances for goblin equality. In return for this, I would like to be officially recognised as Goblin Friend by your race, be able to request aid from your considerable army as well as call in a few special favours. Also, I would like access to some of your fine metal smiths, not only for our business venture but for personal use also." He also added, "I understand what I'm asking is considerable, especially given the…strained relationship between humans and goblins. However rest assured that I do not break my word, as long as you do not go back on my deal first. I make it a habit not to make Unbreakable Vows as I consider my word sufficient, and let my yes be yes and no be no, so to speak. That having been said, due to the importance of this I am willing to make an exception if you so desire."

Ragnok thought for a moment, weight the options before him. Mr. Potter did not ask for anything excessive, they were well within reason, and the goblins had good dealings with his family beforehand. His confident conduct showed a maturity far beyond his years and the goblin had no doubt he was a prodigiously talented individual if he could barter so well. "You have a deal, Mr. Potter."

Harry smiled as they shook hands. "Excellent."

As the former Emperor made his way to leave, Ragnok added as an afterthought, "for the enterprise you are proposing... I am assuming standard contract fees?"

"...No. I believe as a sign of good faith instead of the regular ten percent, I'm willing to increase it to twenty." Harry inwardly smirked at the greedy glint in the goblin's eye. Although the goblins were an honourable nation with a strict code of conduct, Harry was well aware they could turn traitorous at an instant, especially in light of the amount of gold they were about to make. Because of that, he needed to ensure their loyalty, and if worse came to worse, he would make sure that they could never speak about what went on behind the scenes.

-HP-

2 years later

"Hermione! Come on, let's go down to the beach, it's a great day!"

"Just give me a minute!" Hermione said, scribbling furiously on a notepad.

"What is it you're doing anyway?" Hector asked with a frown as he walked into the Lounge, looking over her notepad. "Whoa..."

"It's those markings I told you about," the girl muttered.

"Come on, what are we doing?" Jake complained, hurrying back to them. "Oh no... Hector, didn't you tell her not to get obsessed over them?"

"I did," Hector answered, "remember what happened last time Hermione?"

"I do, and trust me, I've learnt my lesson," Hermione said. "But it's been in the back of my mind for a while, and after some time, I think I get it now." What had happened was that Hermione had spent much of her time with Hector and Jake, exploring the castle and virtually all the grounds. Hermione, ever observant, had noticed odd symbols over many of these areas, and in her obsession had forgone sleep to try and solve these baffling clues. Jake realised what happened, and told Hector, who talked her into calming down. "You know how last year we spent most of our free time finding all the secret passages? They had markings as well. They're the last pieces!"

"Pieces of what?"

"This." Hermione rose what she was working on, a highly complex inscription contained within a circle. "It's simple. All the markings are a part of the same inscription."

"What is that?" Jake frowned. "I see the rune for fire, but the rest..."

"It's a map, I think," Hector said, indicating one of the outlines. "See? That's the cliff face by the beach."

"Well what are we waiting for?" Jake burst towards the door. "Let's go!"

"Wait!" Hector snapped. "Let's go to the beach like we were planning to. Hermione, you looked incredibly stressed, whatever's waiting in there can continue waiting. Once we come back, we can get ready. I mean, who knows what's in there?"

Hermione was already half-way towards the door, eagerly anticipating what awaited them, but she sighed when she saw the determination in Hector's eyes. "...If you really insist."

"I do. It's been a long day, and the thing we need the least is for any of us to be falling asleep while exploring."

Several minutes later Hermione found herself sitting on the beach, watching several of the students splash around in the water. It was a beautiful afternoon, and as Hector said the day had been exhausting for all of them. Sarge had pushed them hard through their weapons routines, and they had spent quite a bit of time learning duelling from Professor Lupin, as well as being tested on chemistry and biology. It had been a flat out day, and the more Hermione relaxed the more she realised it was probably "overkill" to immediately jump into a situation that she knew very little about.

"Hermione!" Jake yelled, waving at her. "Come on in, the water's great!"

"No thanks, I'm fine here!" she shouted back. From the very moment she stepped foot in the Royal Academy she found herself making fast friends with all the students. It was fantastic that the roster was so small, everyone literally knew everyone. She was especially close however to Hector and Jake.

Hector's father was in the army for a few years before joining the police, and as such, he grew up doing everything from hunting to camping to playing sports. He had inherited his dad's cleverness and was calm under pressure, and dependable.

Jake however came from a family where his parents ran a business. They were wealthy, but busy, and left him to his own devices. Because of this, he made his own fun, and was undeniably brilliant, as well as hyperactive. He was energetic and constantly restless, and his mind was just as quick, but Hermione found that he got bored with things extremely quickly before needing to move onto something else.

They seemed unlikely best friends, but somehow it worked.

Hector and Jake shared a look as Hermione was stuck in her reverie, before running towards her. Breaking her out of her thoughts, she gave a shriek as they grabbed her, and collectively dunked her into the water.

"Gotcha!" Jake said with a laugh as they dove in with her.

Hermione broke the surface, trying her best to look angry without breaking into a fit of laughter before finally pulling her wand from its sheath on her thigh.

Jake's eyes widened in horror as he quickly leapt out of the water. "Oh, no…"

"Oh yes!" Hermione began sending stinging hex after stinging hex towards his rear as she chased him down the beach. "You're going to pay for that!"

"What about Hector?"

"It was your idea, I know it!"

"Oh come on Hermione!"

The students at the beach burst into laughter as they watched the pursuit, along with Hector as he walked back to the rocks.

Good times.

-HP-

Though Harry in his timeline had grown used to virtually all forms of transport, his child's body still was not used to the effects of long-haul travel even in a high-class business jet, and he was badly jetlagged as he rode in a limo through the city and into the desert.

Many of his business associates were squibs or wizards who had left magical society, making it easier to diversify and simultaneously run an enterprise in the muggle and wizard world. In just two years, Harry's corporation had skyrocketed to the very top of the industrial ladder, specialising in entertainment, electronics and even military research in the muggle world, while in the wizard world they dealt in potions supplies, home ware and top-of-the-line racing brooms.

A sign outside read TOP SECRET: TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT as the limo pulled into a large military test site. Several Humvees behind him carried the equipment he intended for the demonstration, and, disguised as a young entrepreneur, he raised no suspicions among the US generals as he shook each of their hands.

"Good morning, and thank you for coming," Harry began as his crew began setting up the equipment behind him. "Most of you know I am the CEO of Marauder Industries, and as requested by the Secretary of Defence I am here to make a presentation on several weapons we have in development and are nearly ready for shipment to the US Military." He turned and gestured to a man dressed in army fatigues. "Our man demonstrating these weapons today is an ex-SAS soldier, he has worked closely with our research development team in making the weapons not only effective, but portable and usable by a typical platoon of soldiers. As you know, I am a firm believer in the strength of the typical soldier, or 'grunt' if you like. Alexander the Great could not have conquered the whole Persian Empire without the help of trained, hardened troops and similarly it is the soldiers who should take due credit. We say jump, they ask how high – that's a lot of trust in our men, and no robot, or unmanned vehicle, the so-called 'soldiers of tomorrow' can ever replace a soldier's battle instinct."

An engineer now came up to him, giving him the thumbs up to indicate they were ready. Harry smiled as he continued. "That example of Alexander the Great's men is particularly relevant, as you all know what contributed to their success is that the men were armed with superior equipment. With superior equipment, even a lone soldier can take down a tank. They say the grunt is becoming obsolete. I say think again!"

The demonstration soldier raised a large, tube-like cannon, looking down the scope as one of the technicians operated a remote.

"This baby here is the Marauder H3 Concussive Missile Pod," Harry said with a grin. "When a rifle squad see something they know they can't handle, they either call in reinforcements or air support. Both can take time, time they might not have. This weapon here IS your reinforcements and air support, and it has a range much farther than that of conventional weaponry, meaning that you'll be safe and sound from enemy retaliation while this weapon blows them to oblivion. The patented ID system will prevent it from tampering and make it useless if it ever fell into enemy hands. For a demonstration, kindly arranged by General Harper, we have, out of conventional weapon range, a convoy."

The screens the technicians set up flickered to life, indicating a group of five tanks as well as dummies in jeeps.

"The Missile Pod has a fire-and-forget mechanism. Use the scope to acquire the target, wait for the beep, and..."

WHOOSH! A dark shape burst out of the barrel at high velocity, streaking into the air. It blinked red for a moment as it climbed altitude rapidly, skimming over the desert before breaking open and scattering into smaller pods, before finally colliding.

A fierce flash of light illuminated the horizon before a large cloud of thick black smoke rose, visible even from the vast distance.

The screens however told a different story. To the astonishment of the generals, all they showed were a fiery inferno, the tanks shattered, their armour burnt to a crisp. There was not one trace of the dummies, other than several black bits.

"If in the unlikely scenario that anyone survived, we found that the smoke is toxic and is extremely volatile. Whoever survives that inferno won't survive the fallout. The area will be a no-go zone for half an hour at least," Harry explained. "The missiles are small enough that four can be loaded into the weapon, with two high-explosive, which you just saw, and armour-piercing. The armour piercing is deadly for levelling buildings and bunkers as well as surface-to-air attacks – you can take down an armour-plated bomber with what it packs."

Harry waited until the applause had finished before turning back towards his limo. "Thank you for listening, if you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask our demonstration soldier..."

"Mr. Marauder...or should I call you by your real name?"

The former Emperor stopped. "Mr. Fox. I thought I saw you in the background. Let's talk in my limo."

After the door was safely closed, the vampire began to speak. "Marauder Industries. Interesting name."

Harry rolled his eyes – he was aware that Mr. Fox knew the history behind the choice of that name, as the vampire informant network was vast and extensive. There was virtually nothing that the vampires did not know, with of course a few exceptions. "We can dispense with the pleasantries, Mr. Fox."

"As you wish. Imagine my surprise when in less than a year a rival corporation's profile literally skyrocketed, a feat which even Fox International cannot boast of."

"Rest assured, Mr. Fox, Marauder Industries is perfectly legitimate. I keep wizard and muggle affairs strictly separate, and we have a branch specifically devoted to magic. Our success has come out of the normal channels – and not, as you imply, through magical subterfuge."

"Is that so? Then you won't mind telling me about your military research projects, and about that little device you demonstrated back there. It is, after all, an almost revolutionary weapon. A portable missile system that explodes with the equivalent of a bomber jet payload?"

"I wasn't aware that Fox International had a military branch. Neither do I like what you're insinuating. If the military were to break open one of these weapons, they would not find anything that pointed back to magic. True, they would find highly complex circuitry and mechanical engineering, but I assure you there is not an ounce of magic in them nor has magic been used in their construction."

Mr. Fox regarded Harry with cold, harsh eyes for a moment before responding, changing the subject completely. "We have detained Lord Voldemort, as you requested. He will not know of our influence, but he lays weak and powerless deep in Romania, without any human contact."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You're lying." Through his sharp perception he could see the barest flicker of surprise in the vampire's eyes. Only after a century of almost constant dealing with vampires could he comprehend their subtle body language. To the common eye, they were as still and as poised as statues. Legilimency was useless against them – they had natural mind shields, and it was an art Harry had taken the time to hone after they nearly destroyed his network from the inside.

Playing games with vampires was always a dangerous thing. They could exploit even the slightest loophole in agreements. Voldemort knew of this and made sure their contract was airtight, and Harry intended for them to know they weren't dealing with a little boy here.

"That's a serious accusation," Mr. Fox narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, one I do not take lightly. Voldemort most likely has already escaped the country when he heard your race became involved. Though because he has nowhere else to go, he most likely has concealed himself further in Romania, going where even vampires fear to tread. You wish to conceal this fact and use it as leverage against me before allowing Voldemort to attack me, an inevitable occurrence, and in my surprise allow him to deal a killing strike."

"I'll not stay and listen to this any longer," Mr. Fox snarled, leaving the limo. "Just know this Mr. Potter: we are watching you."

"And know this Mr. Fox. If you ever act in any way against me, I will know, and the consequences will be dire. Unlike Voldemort who treats his allies and enemies with equal contempt, I reward my allies well for their loyalty. My enemies however... are punished severely." Harry sneered.

Mr. Fox's eyes, if possible, became icier as he turned and left.

-HP-

"I should have foreseen this," Harry snapped. "Getting drawn into playing games with the vampires…"

Remus pursed his lips thoughtfully. "It's not your fault Harry, vampires are tricky and unpredictable."

The former Emperor massaged his temples. "I know! In my future they acted as mercenaries and soldiers of fortune. I had hoped by establishing contact with them earlier a better relationship could be forged. It seems to have made it worse, but at the very least Voldemort has moved deeper into Romania. And not to mention we need to start our search for a new Headmaster." It was time for Harry's plans to move even further ahead, meaning personal management of the Royal Academy became nigh impossible save for a Time Turner. He had been spending less and less time at the Academy, and he needed someone capable in charge. "Never mind. How go the exercises I've taught you?"

At this Remus looked excited. "They've gone very well – I've managed to mentally converse with the inner wolf."

"That's good progress. I give it a week or two before you prepare to meld with it." Harry turned around, heading to the Headmaster's sleeping quarters. "I need some rest, it's been a long day. Good night, Remus."

Harry needed very little sleep, often working till late into the night, his powerful magic sustaining his body, but as a child with all his travelling he needed to get plenty of it. As he laid onto the bed, Harry put his sword, in the size of a dagger, underneath his pillow as he always did. Even in the future this had long been a habit since days spent out in the wilderness with all sorts of magical creatures, and the ever-present prospect of assassins.

With that, Harry closed his eyes and entered blissful slumber.

-HP-

After what seemed like a second, but in fact had been most likely several hours, Harry suddenly became alert, waking up, but kept his eyes closed as he fractionally tightened the grip on his weapon.

Someone was here.

He brought his magic to the surface, feeling it warm and sharpen his already acute senses – Harry regularly trained, re-schooling his muscles through a rigorous regime and long meditation. Whoever it was, they were deathly quiet, no footsteps, no breathing. Had his magic not warned him he would have suspected nothing.

Harry sensed them draw closer, inching near him. He could 'feel' the presence of a blade, and this person, rearing to draw blood…

In a blur of motion Harry drew his weapon, deflecting the blade and throwing them aside with a burst of magic. Leaping out of bed, his sword elongated to full size as he paralyzed them, resting his sword's tip on their neck. "So… vampire. Pull off your mask and show me who you are." He demanded.

To his slight surprise the person simply laughed, a musical, yet chilling sound, distinctly feminine as they removed their mask. "Daddy was right! You ARE powerful! I can't wait for when you turn seventeen…" Rachel purred, fluttering her eyes cattily.

"So, Fox sent you?" Harry growled. "I warned him…if it's war he wants…"

"Dead-wrong cutie. I'm acting all on my lonesome self!"

Harry frowned as his mind's gears began clicking. "You go to all the trouble to find me in a well-hidden location…" his eyes fell on the intricately carved blade. "That's no normal weapon either, that's a ritual knife. You want my blood, but you want it for a magical ritual."

"And smart as well! That's right, and you know how daddy hates vampire traditions…"

"Correction: he fears vampire tradition," Harry answered, lowering his weapon. "I have my own sources too. My blood is magically potent, and that's why you need it. You want to perform the Ritual of Resurrection."

Several minutes later found Harry, Rachel, Remus and Sirius sitting in the Headmaster's study as the former Emperor poured the vampire a glass of wine.

"Thank you," Rachel said as she sipped her drink.

"Wait a minute," Sirius frowned. "I thought vampires couldn't eat or drink food?"

"It's a common misconception," Harry answered. "Lesser vampires are only capable of drinking blood, but higher vampires like Rachel can consume certain things, such as what you see here, though they gain little nourishment by it. It also explains why Rachel didn't automatically attack Remus on sight for being a werewolf." He glanced up at Remus who was visibly relieved by this. "Now what I'm wondering is why you're here. I don't understand why you want my blood for the Ritual of Resurrection. It was my understanding that most of the ancient vampires have long since suffered final death."

Rachel smirked at this. "Yes, most of the second and third generation have."

At Sirius' and Remus' confusion, Harry hastily explained. "The older the vampire the more powerful they are. With every generation of vampire their power becomes slightly weaker, exception for higher vampires. The second and third generation vampires were once the most powerful in existence, worshipped by many ancient cults and civilisations as gods. So which vampire have you unearthed?"

"Recently a team of archaeologists were excavating some ruins in Italy," Rachel explained. "They accidently unearthed a crypt, one that they have dated to somewhere in the late Roman Empire."

"To the time of Merlin?" Remus gasped.

"Yes. We sent our own team to investigate, and the signs on the crypt are highly consistent and although baffling to the archaeologists they are clear to us…" Rachel's eyes burnt a malevolent red. "We believe we have discovered the crypt of the last sleeping ancient – our father: The first vampire himself, Dracula."