Harry looked around his new house with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. He finally was getting a place all to himself!

It was a modest sized two storied house in the middle of the countryside somewhere in North Yorkshire a few miles from Whitby. The property was surrounded on all sides by meadow. From the first floor window in the master bedroom, Harry could see a cliff in the far distance that lead to the coastline. He could also make out a pathway running down to what he was hoping would be a decent enough beach.

The inside wasn't half-bad either. There were three bedrooms with attached bathrooms in the first floor while the ground floor comprised of a large drawing room, and a decently-sized dining room and kitchen.

'I like this place, alright.' Harry said as he joined Dumbledore in the empty drawing room.

'Yes, it does have a certain charm,' Dumbledore remarked his voice echoing slightly in the empty room. 'I am surprised that you chose this place. I thought you would have gone for the other options…'

'I suppose that is true,' Harry replied. 'That flat in Kensington looked rather appealing, but I doubt I will be able to play Quidditch there! Besides, this place is nice and far away from Muggles, we have a big chunk of land to adequately protect without drawing too much attention. And I like the quiet.'

'If you like it…' Dumbledore looked around him. 'We should get some furniture here.' He commented.

Harry made a face when he thought of the shopping that would be involved. He wasn't all that big on shopping to begin with.

'Or maybe when I have people over, we can just conjure the necessary furniture!' Harry said brightly.

'I would not recommend it.' Dumbledore said slowly. 'Asking your guests to conjure their own furniture is rather gauche. It's as bad as Apparating directly into someone's home. Regardless, you don't really have a choice. You haven't learnt conjuring at that level yet.'

Harry exhaled. 'Fine,' he said, admitting defeat.

'Worry not, my dear boy. I have taken the liberty of having someone choose the appropriate fittings. If I may?' Dumbledore looked at Harry inquiringly.

'Sure,'

The headmaster took his wand and a small box out. With a wave, the box opened and an assortment of objects flew out of it. Within a few moments, the once barren living room was now well-furnished.

'Well, it looks comfortable,' Harry said as he gingerly sat down on a wingchair. Peering around him, he had to admit that it all looked pretty good.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. 'Yes, it does fit the house rather well. And I am assured that it is something someone your age would find apropos. Shall we take care of the other rooms?'

In the span of fifteen minutes, what was once an empty house was now a well-furnished home. Harry had to admit that whoever had chosen the furniture had done a good job. He had a hard time imagining the house without all the fixtures that now populated the room. And it didn't look too old-person like.

'I had a hunch you'd have gone for this place,' Dumbledore commented when the boy mentioned this. 'So I had someone I knew pick the right decorations. I have already paid for this, so consider this a housewarming gift from me.'

'Thank you sir!' Harry said gratefully. This was the biggest gift he had been given, and he did not know what more he could say.

The rest of the day was spent in packing both the boys' possessions and moving to the new house. Harry might have stayed in Grimmauld Place for a short time, but somehow all his possessions had become scattered. And his younger self had acquired a fair amount of his own possessions that had to be packed in as well.

Harry collapsed in what was fast becoming his favourite wingchair with a sigh. At least he only had to make one trip with all the luggage to the new house thanks to magic.

'So, what do you think, mate?' he asked Little Harry, who had by then quietly made his way into the room.

Harry sighed as the toddler just climbed into his lap and burrowed into him, feeling guilty for the small flash of irritation that came to him at the child's clinginess.

At least the moppet had dialled down the anxiety displayed every time Harry had to step out of the house. Harry vividly remembered the first time he had left in front of the toddler. The boy had started bawling at the top of his head and absolutely refused to relax the death grip he had on Harry's left leg. It was only after the child had fallen asleep out of exhaustion that Harry could leave.

He had come back to quite a bit of drama. The boy had managed to barricade himself in Harry's room at Grimmauld Place and wouldn't leave till Harry himself came in, somehow managing to use magic that had bamboozled all the counter-spells the adults had tried to unlock the door.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by his stomach growling. Immediately his younger self looked up at him.

'Hungry?' Harry asked the tot. He smiled at the empathetic 'Food!' he got from the child in reply.

Lifting the boy up, Harry placed him on the floor and got up himself. Taking the child's hand, he moved towards the kitchen.

Just then, a sudden sound came from the direction of the kitchen, making both boys freeze. The teenager extracted his hand from the toddler and ushered his charge behind him. Taking his wand out, he slowly opened the door to the kitchen.

'Harry Potter, Sir!'

Harry blinked as a small missile hurtled towards him and latched onto his knees.

'Hello, Dobby.' He said with no small amount of surprise. 'What are you doing here?'

The elf bounced back with a big grin on his face. 'Dobby heard tell that the great Harry Potter be living on his own! So Dobby thought he could help Harry Potter. Especially when Dobby hear of bad elf Kreacher,' here he turned to glare at the far end of the kitchen.

Glancing in that direction, Harry saw the surly form of Sirius' old House-Elf at the stove. 'Ah, Kreacher. What are you doing here?'

'Kreacher is cooking for the good master.' The old elf said in reply. 'It is, after all, Kreacher's duty.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. The smells coming from the kitchen so far were quite inviting, and the elf seemed to have come around. That didn't mean he didn't have reservations, though. 'Very well,' he finally said.

'Dobby be watching bad elf and ensuring he is doing his work properly,' Dobby declared, unknowingly solving Harry's dilemma before it began.

'OK, then,' Harry said to the free elf. Leaning down to Dobby's height, he put a hand on the elf's shoulder. 'If you are going to be helping around here, then I guess I should inform you about what's going on so far in my life.'

Turning around, he raised his voice. 'Oi kid. Come in here, it's safe.'

A pair of big green eyes slowly peeked into the kitchen from the doorframe. Seeing the encouraging looks from Harry, the rest of the toddler's body slowly came into view.

Dobby immediately gasped. 'Oh, how glorious! The Great Harry Potter has a son!' He turned his much larger green eyes towards Harry. 'What is his name, sir?'

Harry found himself blushing. 'Ah, Dobby, I am afraid that isn't my son.' He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Dobby doesn't understand,' the elf squeaked, confused. 'He looks a lot like the Great Harry Potter, just like former little master Draco looked like former bad master. Former bad master called former little master his son.' He paused, staring intently at Harry's charge. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. 'Ah, Dobby understands now, this is Harry Potter's daughter! Dobby doesn't understand the difference between young masters and mistresses.'

By this time, a curious Kreacher had shuffled his way to the small drama that was unfolding. 'Don't be silly,' the old elf rasped with an air of authority. 'That is clearly a wizard. Look at his hair, it is short.'

'Bad elf Kreacher does not know what he is talking about!' Dobby said just as authoritatively. 'Albus Dumbledore is a wizard and he has long hair! So does Professor Snapey.'

Kreacher pondered this. 'The little one does not have the shape of a witch,' he finally said. 'Maybe we should check under the clothes…'

At this point Harry found his voice. 'Alright that is quite enough.' He said loudly. While the conversation he was witness to was entertaining (especially what they called Snape) he didn't think it was a good idea to let this go further. 'This is Harry, and he is not my son, or my daughter. He is my clone.'

The two elves looked at him blankly.

'What is a Köln?'

Harry wasn't sure how, but he had the distinct impression that Kreacher was pronouncing the word differently.

'Clone,' he repeated slowly. 'A clone is a … well, he is a – a part of me, erm, created by…' he trailed off, at a loss of words as he realised that nobody had really covered the mechanics of how his charge came into being. Something told him that it would involve words and subjects covered at a higher level after school. Not that it really mattered either way seeing as the documentation relating to his clone's existence was missing, the head of the project having absconded with it.

Just then he noticed that the elves were still looking at him expectantly. 'Fine,' he said with a sigh. 'That's my son.' Throwing his hands up in the air, he muttered to himself. 'Why not?'

Catching the eye of his clone, he gave a smile and a wink, amused at the toddler's clumsy attempt at winking back as Little Harry smiled back shyly.

Harry watched Dumbledore as the old man waved his wand and muttered to himself, pacing the perimeter of the house.

The headmaster had turned up nearly a week after Harry had moved into the new house to cast the protective enchantments that would be powered by the sacrifice Harry's mother had made. Harry still marvelled at how painless the process of drawing blood was through magic. All the headmaster had done was tap his wand to his and his clone's arm and tap a phial which instantly was full of the red fluid.

'Is it done?' Harry asked uncertainly as soon as the old man stopped.

'I do believe it has,' Dumbledore said looking around. 'Now all I have to do is bring down the charm on Privet Drive. And while I am at it, I should probably inform your relatives that you shall not be residing with them anymore.'

'They'll be over the moon,' Harry said sardonically.

Dumbledore's beard twitched. 'Indeed,' he said. 'Is there business you wish to take care of at Privet Drive? Perhaps some belongings …?'

Harry snorted. 'I highly doubt that. There is no way I would ever consider leaving any of my possessions there. They'd probably burn it or throw it!'

'Ah, so I take it that you have no desire to go there?'

Harry thought about the question. 'Actually, why not?' he said with a shrug. 'Might as well check. What do we do about this one though?' he jerked his head towards his clone who at the moment was doing … something nearby. Harry really couldn't make any sense of what game the boy was playing as he frolicked about.

'He seems quite lost in his own world,' Dumbledore remarked.

Harry snorted. 'I think he's become comfortable in your presence for some reason. He's quieter than Hedwig out on a hunt when Mrs Weasley or Tonks is around.'

They spent a few moments looking at the child. Dumbledore had a wistful look on his face.

'Perhaps we could take him with us?' he finally said. Turning, he saw the incredulous look on the young wizard's face. 'Ah, you have concerns. Not to worry, Harry. He will be with me at all times.'

Harry was not assuaged. 'I hope you mean that he will be far, far away from the house. If not, then I'd rather have Dobby take care of him. There's less chance of something bad happening that way.'

'There is no need for such extreme measures, my boy,' Dumbledore said mildly. 'I do believe there is a play park nearby where I can supervise your young charge. It will be nice to take him out somewhere new.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Fine.' He said. 'Just keep him from Dudley's gang then.'

'I do not envision any problems in handling a few juvenile Muggles.'

Turning to call Harry the younger, Harry rolled his eyes. 'Oi, kid!'

The boy immediately stopped what he was doing and dashed over to Harry. Bending down, the older teen said. 'Do you want to go out for a short trip?'

The toddler nodded vigorously and giving Dumbledore a slightly suspicious look, sidled to Harry's other side where he grasped his hand.

'I heard from Miss Tonks that you have managed to acquire an Apparition licence.' Dumbledore commented.

'Oh yeah,' Harry said with a proud smile. 'It took me three days but I did it! Even managed to do the side-apparition thing too!'

'Yes, Miss Tonks did mention that. She was very impressed. I admit that I am as well. It is a very remarkable achievement. I doubt there are many who can do it in such a short time.' Dumbledore replied.

Harry ducked his head, blushing a little. 'Thank you, sir.'

'Now, how about you show me your skills?'

Nodding, Harry scooped up his younger version in his arms. Dumbledore put an arm on the boy's elbow. 'Guide me,' he said simply.

Swallowing, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on a secluded place he knew well in Little Whinging.

With a crack, they disappeared.

Dumbledore looked around curiously. They had reappeared in a small copse of trees.

'This is a tight fit,' he commented.

'Well, it was bigger the last time I was here.' Harry muttered.

'And when was that?'

There was a long moment of silence.

'When I was ten,' Harry finally said sheepishly. A shift in the weight in his arms brought his attention to his clone. The little boy had relaxed the grip he had around Harry's neck and was looking around curiously. Harry was impressed with how well the boy was taking it.

The three emerged from the small clearing onto the far end of the play park that Harry used to frequent so many times in the past. Somehow, the condition of the equipment hadn't worsened since he had last been there the previous year. He wondered if the dementors had robbed Dudley of his desire for senseless destruction.

'Charming,' Dumbledore remarked, looking around at the vandalised and broken equipment. 'Will you be alright visiting your relatives on your own?'

'I have managed so far … I think I can manage one last meeting.' Harry said grimly. 'Besides, Vernon will still be at work.'

'If you are sure,' Dumbledore said uncertainly.

Harry bent down to his charge's level. 'I will be gone for a very short while. I will be back soon. Will you be OK here, playing with Professor Dumbledore?' he asked the boy. Getting a hesitant nod in return, he straightened up.

'He really likes you,' Harry remarked.

'It's a gift.' Dumbledore replied, smiling. 'Now, I suggest you hurry, Harry.'

'Yes, sir.' Saying so, Harry turned around and headed down the familiar path to Number Four Privet Drive.

As he made his way to the place he had spent most of his life in, he took in the sights one last time. He could hardly believe that barely a year back he was fighting for his very soul.

Harry smiled sadly when he came to the spot where he had first seen Sirius two years back. While he had come to terms with his godfather's death, it didn't mean that he didn't miss him.

All too soon, he was at Privet Drive. Walking to the house, he noticed Mrs Next Door, Aunt Petunia's neighbour and regular gossip partner. The woman stopped what she was doing in her yard when she saw Harry.

Harry quirked the side of his mouth into a smirk as he passed her by, making sure that his hand didn't go up to touch his neatly coiffed hair. Over the years he had found out a lot about this woman. He knew that she was a lot like what Madam Malkin was in the Muggle world. Judging by the way her eyes were roving over his clothes, he had a feeling that she had recognised good quality bespoke clothes made of high quality material and was curious about this new version of him that wasn't scruffy. Not for the first time, he was glad that he had his entire wardrobe done by Madam Malkin and that he had availed of the benefits that came with being the heir to a successful company that made good quality hair-care potions which not only made one look good, but were actually good for the hair.

'Hi Aunt Petunia,' he said with as much fake joviality as he could manage when he saw the woman step out of Number Four. He didn't have to turn around to know that Mrs Next Door was now intently listening in to this conversation.

Meanwhile his mother's sister was frozen on the top step of her house, the door still ajar.

'What are you doing here!' She finally hissed in a low voice when Harry reached her.

'Why, visiting relations of course!' Harry said in a voice that was so loud and jolly that his mother's sister actually cringed, glancing at her openly curious neighbour. With a saccharine smile he walked past her into the house. 'You might want to stay for a moment. I do have some lovely news to share with you.'

He dashed up the stairs and into the smallest bedroom. He took a moment at the doorway before pushing the door open and entering.

One glance around the mostly bare room told him that there weren't any of his personal possessions in there. Just to be sure, Harry looked through the wardrobe and then beneath the loose floorboard.

The only thing that belonged to him were a few stale Cauldron Cakes. He let that stay where it was in the floorboard. Hopefully it would cause the house some rot.

He debated taking some of the books that Dudley never read for Little Harry, but then decided against it. There was no way he was going to be letting his child touch that!

Harry froze a moment. Since when did he think of his clone as his child?

Shrugging he discarded that thought and made his way back downstairs.

He saw his aunt standing just inside the door, looking at him sourly, clearly waiting for some explanation. 'Well?' she said in a huff. 'Care to explain why you're here so many days earlier? Did they finally throw you out of that freak school of yours?' She gave him a once over suspiciously. 'What have you done to your hair, and where did you get those clothes?'

Instead of answering, Harry chose to give the hallway, the kitchen and the drawing room one final once-over. He paused for a moment at the door to the cupboard under the stairs, but didn't open it.

Curiosity satisfied, he turned to his aunt. 'I am leaving. For good.' He said abruptly. 'I thought I'd do the decent thing and tell you this myself. Not that you deserve any of that.'

'What?' his aunt snapped out, equal parts irritated and confused.

'I said that I am not going to be staying here any longer,' Harry said with deliberate slowness. 'See, my "layabout drunk of a father" as you called him had left me quite a bit of money. Enough so that even my children won't have to work for a day in their lives to live a life of luxury. You should have seen my bank balance. I have never seen such a big number in my life!'

'I have never called your father a layabout drunk,' Petunia said snippily. 'That was all Marge, I will have you know!'

Harry snorted. 'Is there a difference here?'

With that, he shoved past her and made his way to the front door.

'What about the wards?'

It was Harry's turn to be irritated and confused. 'What?' he said, turning around.

'Don't take that tone with me, young man.' His aunt snapped out. 'You know what I mean. The blood wards. That protection that your crackpot of a headmaster said would protect us from your lot.'

Harry's lip curled. 'Well, excuse me for being confused about incorrectly used words. The last I checked, nobody has constructed a hospital room around here for the sole purpose of housing blood samples, so I really wouldn't know what the hell you mean when you say "blood wards". If you are talking about the protections around this house, then yes, there was an enchantment.' He put special emphasis on the last word. 'Around this house cast by Professor Dumbledore based off the old magic my mother invoked when she died saving me. And quite frankly I can't be arsed to watch my tone around someone as undeserving as you. Especially considering that I am going to be shot of you the moment I leave this place.'

Furious, his aunt made to speak, but he overrode her. 'Regardless, that enchantment is coming down. We've found a way to transfer it to a new location where I can reside in without having to deal with the likes of you and your family. So yeah, that enchantment is coming down. Professor Dumbledore should be coming along soon to tell you about that. That is, if he decides that you are worth the trouble. You can be assured that I will be doing my hardest in trying to convince him that you really aren't worth any wizard or witch's time because quite frankly you Dursleys aren't worth the dirt under my shoes.'

'You don't get to talk to me that way!' Petunia screeched.

'Why?' Harry asked coldly. 'You think I should be respectful to you because of the fact that you are my mother's sister? You and your husband made it quite clear when I was growing up that I was unwanted. Now I am only returning the favour. And so I deny that we were ever related. I think that should make you happy. Also, the way you have treated me has put paid to any other reason I should even think of talking to you in a civilised fashion. In short, you don't deserve my respect. And so you aren't getting any … Muggle.'

At his words, his aunt recoiled half a step back, unnerved at the amount of loathing and resentment being directed at her through eyes that were reminiscent of her late sister. For a moment, it looked like Harry was going to start shouting at her, vocalising all the anger that was in his eyes. But he just snorted derisively instead, turned around, opened the front door and stepped out. 'Oh, and one last thing.' He said at the threshold, not turning around. 'My kind has ways of reaching out to loved ones from beyond the grave. My mother was kind enough to tell me that she and your parents were quite disappointed in you and how low you have sunk as a human being. She also told me that had your roles been reversed, she wouldn't have taken her feelings towards you out on your son like the way you took out your feelings of petty jealousy and inadequacy towards her out on me. And as proof, so that you believe that those words come from her and not from someone else, well …' he turned and smiled nastily. 'She told me about those pathetic letters you wrote to Professor Dumbledore begging to be let into Hogwarts. As if they'd let a Muggle like you in, eh Tuney?'

The stricken expression on Petunia's face was the last thing Harry saw of his aunt when he slammed the front door closed. It was something he was going to be cherishing for the rest of his life.

He snorted once more as he made his way off the property. '"Wards" …' he muttered to himself, shaking his head. 'What utter bollocks!'

'Productive visit?' Dumbledore asked Harry politely when the boy was within hearing distance.

'Yeah,' Harry said with satisfaction. 'Pretty much.' He had particularly enjoyed the small chat he had with Mrs Next Door (who he finally found out was called April O'Brien). He was right to think that the woman was very interested in where he got his clothes from. She did recognise good work and expensive material when she saw it. Harry made sure to tell her that he had come to Privet Drive one last time because he had finally managed to secure his freedom from his hateful relatives, and was now going to live in a house he had bought from his vast inheritance. The gleam in her eyes when she heard something this juicy gave Harry such a feeling of deep warmth, that he found himself sharing abridged details of what life was like for him there. He hoped that he had made social life difficult for the Dursleys in Privet Drive at the very least.

Dumbledore gazed at the surroundings. 'Well, the protection seems to have faded away.' He said slowly. 'I suppose there wasn't any need for me to come here.'

'Perhaps it is because I told Petunia that I no longer see her as family?'

Dumbledore looked surprised. 'You did?'

'What if I did? I am just returning the favour, to tell the truth, sir. They were quite clear when they said that I was an unwanted addition to their home when I was Little Harry's age.' Harry said a tad belligerently.

'It is your business,' Dumbledore said simply in a sad tone. 'I just never saw that coming. Now, I do believe there is a little boy who is waiting for you.'

Harry smiled as the child in question came running up, a big grin on his face.

Scooping the boy up, he looked at the play park properly.

'Uh,' he trailed off taking everything in. Not only was everything in pristine condition but also transfigured and charmed extensively. The slide for instance looked quite a lot like a tongue coming out of the mouth of a Hungarian Horntail.

'Don't worry about that,' Dumbledore said, casually waving his wand. Both boys watched in identical expressions of wide-eyed amazement as all the equipment noisily changed back to their dilapidated original forms. 'I had placed enough repelling charms to keep the Muggles at bay. They shall not have the pleasure of witnessing the miracle of a Wizarding play park. Which is a pity, this is by far the handsomest park I have ever made.'

They started to walk back to the copse of trees.

'I had the pleasure of encountering Professor Snape the other day. He had some rather interesting things to say about you.' Dumbledore remarked casually.

'How nice,' Harry said blandly. 'It's too bad I am not interested in what he has to say.'

Dumbledore only looked at Harry over his glasses.

'Why should I be interested in what the Death Eater who painted a target on my parents by telling his master about the prophecy has to say about me?'

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks. 'Harry –'

'I don't care,' Harry said quickly. 'As I told Snape. I am done with him. His anger at and hatred of my long departed father is not something I have any interest in dealing with anymore. It has turned him into this bitter, miserable, petty bully who just has refused to grow up. I came to the realisation that he is just not worth my time. Now that I can drop Potions classes, I am more than happy to be rid of him.'

'What of your aspirations of becoming an Auror? I do believe a Potions N.E.W.T. is needed for that.'

'What of it?' Harry asked. Ducking his head, he entered the copse of trees from where they had first arrived. 'Considering what I know of my financial situation, subjecting myself to two more years of abuse is just not worth it. I can always reconsider my career options. Quidditch might be fun, for one. Alternatively, I can find something else to do relating to the Defence Against the Dark Arts, or Charms or even Transfiguration. I do like those subjects well enough, and Professors Flitwick and McGonagall are much nicer. They certainly are a damn sight more professional than certain people.'

Harry turned on his heel, disappearing with a crack.

Albus looked at the spot from where the two boys had disappeared. He wondered how his student was going to take the news that there was a good probability that Severus wasn't going to be teaching Potions the coming year, seeing as the number of people willing to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts was right now at an all-time low.

Of course, that depended on him finding and convincing Horace Slughorn to retake his old position in the first place.

And here we are!

Did you know that all those so-called "protective wards" aren't really mentioned in canon at all and are a complete fanon invention? I realised that myself recently...