Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything, not making money off of it, etc.

Chapter 3: Backlash and Tea Cozies

While Harry was getting ready for bed, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, lemon drop in his mouth and Sirius Black's will in his hand. After sending the letter to Harry this morning, Albus had spent the better portion of the day finding ways around the Will. The major weakness of his plans was the assumption that the Goblins would send a summons to Harry and not directly send him the will. Albus figured his mail wards would just bounce the letter back to his office in a day or two, and even if they managed to get through, Harry would stay at home like his letter had told him to. Yes, Albus thought he was quite safe, now all he had to do was keep Harry from Gringotts and a copy of the Wills and everything would be just lemony (Albus didn't like peaches, they were too sweet).

'The first thing to do', he thought, 'is to write the Goblins and tell them that Mr. Potter wished me to express that he does not wish to declare his last name Potter-Black, as that would freeze the Black accounts and still enable us to use Headquarters'. A brilliant plan, he concluded, mentally patting himself on the back. He began composing his letter to the Gringotts Goblins. Just as he finished the last touches on the letter, Fawkes appeared in all his brilliance and dropped Harry's letter on his desk before flying off to his perch.

Albus picked up the parchment and broke the seal, scanning over the paper. He was quiet pleased at Harry's response. Yes, it seemed like he would be able to carry out his plan.

Noting the time, Albus put the letter and Wills to the side to finish up tomorrow. Now that he knew his plan wasn't in jeopardy from a stubborn teenager, he felt he deserved a bit of a rest. 'After all, if you were one of the strongest Wizards in the world, you would need your beauty sleep too' he reasoned in his head, chuckling at his own joke.

A few hundred miles away, a fierce looking goblin with beady charcoal eyes and skin the color of moss was looking over a ledger when the next person in line walked up. Without so much as a glance at the person, he started the standard procedure for vault visitations.

"Key, please" Glinhog sneered in his best intimidating voice. 'Great Gold do I hate the desk shifts'.

The Goblin looked up from his ledger to watch as the wizard fumbled through his robes searching for his key. Glinhog decided to upgrade his look to sneer number 7, which caused most week willed wizards, like the one before him, to hasten their search. 'What a waste of time. Honestly, there's no more than half a dozen decent wizards now a days. The lot of them would rather believe a washed up ghost who can't remember which day of the week it is than confront a Goblin about the wars. Then again,' Glinhog began to muse, 'the desk shift wouldn't be near as entertaining if they did grow a brain.'

The wizard, noticing the increased displeasure added to the Goblin's sneer, did increase his fumbling through his pockets before his eyes brightened and nearly threw the key at the Glinhog.

"Everything seems in order, Lightcave will bring you to your vaults," and with a slight wave, and his sneer number 3, which indicated his displeasure at the notion of having to spend even a minute more in the presence of the person graced with it, he sent the bumbling fool off to his vaults. 'I wouldn't be surprised if in five years his entire holdings have disappeared from his idiocy.

An hour, and many idiot wizards and witches, later, Glinhog was finally reprieved from desk duty. He really wanted to murder the founding Goblin who had insisted that every Goblin, no matter what their rank in the bank was, was to have at least 1 shift of desk duty every two weeks. Something about keeping in touch with the 'patrons'. 'Patrons indeed,' he snarled in his head, 'there hasn't been a true patron in over a thousand years, all we have are brainwashed idiots. But of course, the other managers don't want to 'break tradition', plus I suspect they want to keep it because it prevents the bank from needing to hire a lot of tellers'

Glinhog's thoughts were interrupted by a Gringotts owl landing gracefully on his desk with a parchment in hand, a rather thick parchment.

The Goblin broke the parchment seal and looked over the letter and knew he'd get no sleep tonight. But strangely enough, he wasn't repulsed by that idea. 'Finally, a wizard who asks a question. I'll have to keep an eye on Mr. Potter.' and with that thought, he grabbed a dictating quill and began writing the answers to each of the questions presented to him, pulling out informational brochures and documents where needed. By the time he was done, he had declared this night his most exhausting, but rewarding night of work and packaged everything in a box to send to Mr. Potter - after all, there were a lot of questions, and each question had at least one outside reference for the boy. He shrunk the box and had it wand activated, which was explained in the accompanying letter, and sent them off with the same Gringotts' owl from before.

As all this was happening, Harry was asleep in his bed on Privet Drive dreaming of Dumbledore, Voldemort, and a troop of revolutionary bunnies with machine guns pointing out various inconsistencies between his life and what was written in his parent's will. While not the weirdest dream he had ever had, it did rank in the top ten, and as dreams go, he had forgotten half of it before he even woke up. Eager to get this day started, he stole to the bathroom and took a nice shower. The water was a bit hotter than he normally liked it, but he didn't mind as his thoughts were otherwise preoccupied.

His thoughts eventually drifted to the Marauders' Tower while he shampooed his hair. As he worked and lathered his hair, he started to wonder what would be there, and why Sirius hadn't told him before hand. It was rather odd, only giving him knowledge of the place if he died or was imprisoned. Was something dangerous or potentially dangerous there? His thoughts were suddenly derailed as he rinsed out the shampoo a bit rinsed off into his eye. He rinsed his eye off immediately, keeping it slightly closed as it still stung and finished up his shower. Maybe he could write Remus and see if he would be more forthcoming than Sirius' letter had been. 'And,' he admitted to himself, 'it would be nice to strike up a better relationship with him.'

Harry dried off, scrambled into some clothes and then headed downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal. After a bowl of frosted wheats, he did the dishes that were in the sink as well as his own before heading back up to his room. He sat down at his desk, trying to figure out something to do for awhile. After a few minutes, he decided he should start on rereading his textbooks, and though he was loathe to admit it, he decided to start on his potion texts, if he did happen to get an O on his Potion's OWLs, he didn't want to have to rely on Hermione for the class.

After a few chapters, he looked up and realized it was a decent hour, 'Though, I doubt he would have been angry at me for calling him earlier...but still, it would have been rather rude of me'. Harry put down his book, marking his place by slipping in his school tie as a bookmark, and snapped his fingers. "Dobby!"

With a loud crack, Dobby appeared next to Harry and then leaped and hugged Harry's leg, "Master Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is happy to sees you! What can Dobby do for you?"

Harry smiled at the enthusiastic house elf, "I have a favor to ask of you. On Friday, I need to get to Diagon Alley."

"But Harry Potter, sir. There are bad wizards out there. Dobby hear Headmaster Dumblydore tell the Order about them." Harry raised his eyebrow, 'Why would Professor Dumbledore tell them, I would think that Snape would have.' "Dobby, it's okay, everybody thinks I'll be at my Muggle relatives all break, the Death Eaters won't think to look in Diagon Alley. If it'll help, you can come with me."

Dobby appeared to be thinking about it when his face lit up, "Yes Master Harry Potter Sir, Dobby would love to come! Dobby will protect you from the bad wizards!"

"That's good, but do you know of a way that will keep Auror Moody from noticing I'm gone. We'll be gone for a few days, I have to talk to the Goblins and it might be take more than one day to get all my affairs in order." Harry hoped that his little friend would be able to pull through for him, but the second Moody went on duty, he would realize Harry was missing and then his little excursion would be out. He was deep in thought about the various lectures and stern looks he'd get if caught when Dobby brought him out of his reverie.

"Dobby could enchant your blanket to fool his eye, Harry Potter sir, but the second there is trouble Dobby will be bringing you back here," the house elf threatened with his sternest look. Said look's effect was severely diminished by the mountain of tea cozies on Dobby's head as they tumbled down from Harry giving the elf a hug.

"Thank you Dobby, I don't know how I'd have been able to do this without you. You'll have to get here early on Friday Morning, before six. While we're out, I'll buy you some clothes too," the boy hero rambled as Dobby was shocked in place that a wizard as great as Harry Potter had hugged him. The house elf swore that he was never going to wash the neon green and peach striped vest that he was wearing, and maybe hang it up in his room.

After some more chatting, Dobby left and Harry picked up where he left off in his Potions work. He made a mental note to buy a self heating cauldron when in Diagon Alley, as well as some ingredients. It would be nice to be able to practice brewing some potions too over the summer, and as Potions didn't require a wand, the Improper Use of Magic Department wouldn't be able to detect it. He would also have to see if it was safe for them to put a Muggle Repelling Charm on it, he didn't want the Dursleys finding it either.

Being the third day into the break at the Burrow, everything was going okay. Molly was in the kitchen fixing breakfast, Arthur was getting ready for work, the Twins were already at their shop, and the youngest male and female weasley were still sleeping. At about five in the morning, a snowy owl flew in an open window, nearly giving Molly a heart attack, which quickly turned into excitement as she recognized Harry's owl. She took the letter off Hedwig's leg before putting the letter in Ron's usual place at the table and returning to breakfast.

An hour later, the tall redhead was in the kitchen following the scent of the cooking sausages. While yes, it was only the third day of vacation, Ron felt the necessity of waking early enough to eat his breakfast warm, as heating charms did effect the flavor, if you asked his opinion. So far his summer had been rather boring. When your siblings weren't around and all you had to do was homework, and really, nobody but Hermione did homework at the beginning of summer vacation. As such, any diversion was well received, especially if it was in the form of a letter from his best friend Harry. So when Molly informed the sleepy eyed red head of the letter waiting for him at the table, he rushed over and broke the seal. Today was going to be a good day, a nice big breakfast and a letter from Harry had to be good omens, right?

Ron read through the note, eagerly going through Harry's questions and summer activities so far. 'Doesn't sound like he's having any better of a time than I am, I wonder if he'll be able to come to the Burr-- OH BLOODY HELL,' and Ron's thoughts quickly stopped after he finished the letter.

Noticing the sudden paling of her youngest son, Molly quickly went into her mother hen mode and started to coddle Ron, trying to find out if something was wrong with Harry and if there was anything she could do for Ron. All Ron did was burn the letter and rush upstairs without breakfast. To a degree, he could understand why Harry had to share that ... interesting bit of information. But the larger part of Ron was disgusted and suddenly, homework didn't seem as bad as an alternative to boredom anymore. He'd do just about anything to get that mental picture out of his head. Without a word to his mother, Ron rushed upstairs. He only braked for a quick lunch, which was about a fifth of his normal meal size. Honestly, he wasn't that hungry anymore.

Later on that night, the family would note that it was the first time ever that Ron was chatting excitably about Potions, of all things, and only took second helpings. It worried the family, after all, Ron had just been through that dreadful Ordeal at the Ministry. Maybe he still had mental wounds that needed to be healed. They couldn't bring in Harry, Dumbledore never had allowed him over this early in the summer. But maybe Hermione or Neville could come and stay over for awhile.

With that thought in mind, Molly pulled out a slightly rumpled piece of parchment and composed invitations for the summer to both Hermione and Neville.

It was mid-afternoon when Harry stopped in his studies again. He had a few dozen scrolls of notes from his Potion's tomes and his hand was cramping. It was as good as time as any to eat something, so he made he way downstairs. After a small, but hardy, meal, Harry discovered that there was a note on his chair. Thinking it might have been from the Goblins, he quickly went over and opened it, immediately frowning as he read it's contents.

"Bloody Hell, Dumbledore, what are you trying to play at," growled Harry as he went through the letter. He pulled out another blank sheet of parchment and the previous day's letter. At this rate, he would need to buy another set when he was in Diagon Alley. He then tried to figure out the puzzle that was Dumbledore's recent behavior, slowly working himself into another rage against the headmaster. It was rather lucky for Dumbledore that Harry had no means of getting to his office or else another dozen trinkets or so would meet their demise.

Hermione's day had been significantly better than Ron's day had been. Though, this could largely be attributed to the fact that Harry had written his letter to her before he had his vision, so its contents were limited to 'you were right' and 'sorry's' as well as a few lines about OWLs. Hermione knew those lines about OWLs were mainly for her benefit, Harry wasn't studious enough to be worried about the results at the moment- after all, they had just taken them a week ago. A second contributing factor to Hermione's day could also be attributed to the fact that she didn't receive his letter until mid-afternoon, right as she was taking a break in her summer homework, at same time that Harry had gotten another letter from Dumbledore.

Feeling the need to stretch her quill on something other than a scroll detailing her thoughts on the arguments presented in the infamous Debate of the Liverstrife of 1507, she penned Harry a nice long response detailing that he wasn't to blame for Sirius's death, that no apologies were needed, that she couldn't wait for her OWL scores, as well as a detailed summery of what summer homework she had completed and some recommended readings she had for him. She was quite realistic that Harry probably wouldn't take her suggestions, but she had to try.

She gave her response to Hedwig who flew out after stealing a bit of water from Hermione's glass. Once the snowy owl was out of sight, Hermione returned to her summer work.

By the time Hedwig returned home, she had found her owner in a rage. Sensing her owner's distress, she allowed Harry to run his fingers through her feathers absently. When he had calmed down, he finally noticed that she had a letter tied to her leg, he quickly removed it and apologized.

"Sorry girl, It's just that I can't figure out the Headmaster anymore. Up until last year, I would have thought that he was a grandfather of sort, somebody who watched over me and gave me advice, but wasn't very active in my day to day life. But then this year he ignores me to 'keep me safe', and then there's that blasted Prophecy and Blood Wards," Harry paused as he sighed and gave her an owl treat, "You look like you could use a rest and here I am detaining you. Have a nice rest girl." With one last pat, Hedwig flew to her stand and Harry opened the letter. After reading, Harry gave one of those laughs that, had anybody heard it, would bring into question his sanity. The letter was so typical Hermione that he couldn't help it, after all the turmoil with Dumbledore and Wills, it was nice to know that there were some things that weren't going to cause another shift in his swiftly changing universe.

He made a mental note that he should look into the books Hermione recommended, After all, it was going to be a long summer and he didn't expect to be able to escape from Privet Drive again until school began since he doubted his rouse would last as long as he wanted it to, but he would take what time he could get. After scribbling the titles on a spare piece of parchment, which he titled "books to look for:", he decided to continue rereading his textbooks. He would start his homework, but he figured his homework would be of a higher quality after he reread his books and didn't want to constantly update his homework.

After reading a nice chapter on the properties of various types of frog eggs and their reaction charts, Harry closed his Potion's text. As if on queue, his stomach grumbled causing his emerald eyes to sparkle in amusement. "I suppose I should grab a bite to eat," he stated to nobody in particular as he opened his door to head downstairs. The Dursleys had already eaten dinner and had cleaned up. Shrugging, he went into the refrigerator and made a sandwich and grabbed a glass of water before heading back up.

Once 9:00 PM hit, Harry decided to stop his studies for the day and get to bed. He wanted to get his rest, tomorrow he had to deal with going through his notes on Dumbledore, a night of rest on the problem would clear his head.

Story Notes:

Time line - I'm working off the assumption that the Leaving Feast is on Friday Night, the students leave Saturday Morning (11AM), get to King's Coss by 3PM, and Harry's back at the Durlsey's by 4PM. This also means he doesn't have his vision until Sunday Morning and a lot of things happen on Sunday. This chapter encompasses Monday, though the beginning parts take place Sunday night.

Updating Schedule - I'm no good with schedules, absolutely horrible with them. So I'm going to try and update once a week, but take that statement with a grain of salt. I'll usually try and update my profile with the week's potential story updates.

"Great Gold" - Well, I wasn't quiet sure what to use for the Goblin's version of "Merlin" or "Circe", and since Goblins like gold, I figured it was a decent enough replacement.

Next Chapter: Dealings With Dursleys

Harry has a little chat with the Dursleys...

The Gringotts' Owl returns a little worse for the wear, but with answers for Harry.