I'm neither famous nor a multi-millionaire therefore I have no rights to Harry Potter. However, I do thank J.K. Rowling for allowing others to play in her sandbox.Please, read and review.

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Harry Potter was happy. This was a highly unusual event as his relatives did everything in their power to make him as unhappy as it was possible to be. However, today, he was happy and there wasn't anything they could do to change that.

It all started a week ago when his relatives decided they were going to go away for the weekend. As usual, they sent him over to Mrs. Figg's house as they didn't want to take him with them. When he had walked in, as she had told him to stop waiting for her to answer the door years ago, he saw something that made him look twice and gasp in shock; Mrs. Figg had her head in the fire. Actual flames, granted they were green which he'd never seen before, but still!

She must've heard his gasp because she jumped and hit her head, told whoever she was talking to that she had to go, and pulled her head out. It wasn't burnt, a little sooty, but not burnt! That's when she sat him down and explained all about the world he'd been born into and everything he should have already known. She almost seemed relieved to tell Harry about it.

So, that brings us to today. The Dursley's are gone and once again they expect Harry to be with Mrs. Figg. Only, he's had enough. After packing his meager belongings (his baby blanket and Dudley's hand-me-down clothes that are three sizes too big) and the wad of cash from Aunt Petunia's secret hiding spot, Harry heads to the nearest rail station. A little over an hour later and he's at Charing Cross Rd. There! He sees it! The dingy little sign that everyone seems to miss. Putting on his beanie cap he heads inside and makes his way quietly to the bar.

"Excuse me, sir. Could you please open the portal to Diagon Alley?" Harry asks the toothless bartender.

The man, who until then had been keeping an eye on a flinty sort of guy, quickly makes his way to the back, taps the bricks in a pattern, smiles, and tells him to have a great day.

As the archway opens Harry can't help but be amazed at all of the sights and sounds. It takes him back to what he imagines Victorian England would have been like. Stalls set up all over the place, sellers shouting about their wares, children running about, animals wandering around, owls hooting, people dressed in robes, displays in shop windows, moving shop signs, and cobblestone streets.

Trying to ignore the majority of it, as he didn't have the correct currency yet, he made his way to the large white building straight down the street. A little startled by the appearance of the goblin guards, he quickly got himself back in hand and bowed his head in greeting before entering the building.

Inside there are rows of goblin tellers, counting out coins or helping customers. The inside is the same white marble as the outside with flecks of gold strewn in. Moving up to an available teller, Harry waits to be noticed. A few minutes later the goblin, impressed by the child's patience, puts his pen down.

"How can Gringotts be of service, child?"

"I need to speak with the Potter account manager, please." Harry leaned in and spoke quietly while looking at the goblin, noticing his name, Quickdeath.

"I'll need to verify your identification before that is allowed." Quickdeath narrowed his eyes as he stared at the youth.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Harry earnestly said.

"Very well. Prick your finger and allow 3 drops of blood to fall on this piece of parchment." The goblin said as he handed the boy a knife and moved a piece of parchment within reach.

Harry did as told and watched as writing flowed out from where the drops of blood had fallen to show:

Harrison James Potter

Father: James Fleamont Potter

Mother: Lily Rose Potter neé Selwyn (adopted Evans)

"Looks like that's in order. Griphook!" Turning to speak with the goblin who had appeared, he handed off the parchment, then said "Follow Griphook now."

"Thank you, Quickdeath!" Harry replied, and then decided goblins must be treated terribly by humans if Quickdeath and Griphook's reaction was anything to go by.

After more turns than Harry could keep track of, they made it to a door with a gold nameplate that said

Bonecrusher

Potter Account Manager

Griphook knocked, went inside after being called, then returned and said "Bonecrusher will see you now."

"Thank you, Griphook." He replied as he stepped into the office.

"Ah, Heir Potter, I've waited for the day you would come to my office again."

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