Ordinarily, Harry would have noticed the adrenaline rush brought on by the Gringott's carts, but this time he was too lost in his thoughts to notice the journey.

He was too busy thinking through his plans.

He was too busy thinking about the desire to travel to America, to the MACUSA, and thinking about his fears that even when he finally came of age, Dumbledore and Fudge would look for a way of keeping him trapped. If they did that, then he would become a Dark Lord, and he would lash out in ways even Voldemort would have envied.

"Vault 665," the goblin sent to escort him announced.

Harry nodded solemnly, and he stood up and followed the goblin, who waited until he was standing right outside the vault before he waved his large, long, pointed hand over the lock, and it opened slowly.

His mother's vault had a small pile of gold within it, but Harry was not interested in that. His interest was tucked neatly in the shadows, near the side of the vault. To the right of the pile was a long, thin box. Harry picked it up and he opened it, revealing the two custom wands within, and he smiled fondly at the wands he had left in this vault before his third year at Hogwarts.

When he'd had the wands created, Harry had been left reeling from the attack from the shade of Tom Riddle, who'd taken his wand. And after he had done some research on wands, Harry had learnt the wands made by Ollivander were mass produced and after they passed through the Hogwarts wards, they activated the Trace, allowing the Ministry to track the wands.

And after he had discovered the basilisk parts were valuable, Harry had secretly summoned a group to Hogwarts to strip it down and he had received a nice hefty profit which he had put into a new vault under a different name. When he'd had the chance, Harry had secretly travelled to Knockturn Alley before Marge turned up and commissioned a custom wand crafter working there to design a pair of new wands that would work only for himself and be trace free.

The wand crafter had taken the job with gusto; many wizards and witches, wanting to avoid the Trace and other aspects of Ministry Control had gone to crafters like himself. And he had risen to the occasion wonderfully.

Harry's original plan was to wait for the crafter to finish, go back to Knockturn Alley and put them in his mother's vault after trying them out for safekeeping since Dumbledore was constantly keeping watch over him. Marge had changed the plan slightly, but otherwise, the wands were kept safe. Harry was just relieved he hadn't been stupid and taken them both to Hogwarts; the last thing he'd wanted was to lose these beauties to those fools after he was accused of mass murder - 'NO! Don't even think about that!'

Opening the box, Harry smiled as he took in the two sleek wands. Thirteen inches long, with a Yew outer casing with a ceramic inner casing, lined with runes, with two diamonds mounted at the tips of the handles. Their cores were a Rougaru hair sitting in an enclosed vial of Rougaru blood, a dangerous magical being, and the hairs were known for their affinity for the Dark Arts.

"Hello, my friends," Harry smiled before he closed the box and slid it back into his inner coat pocket, and he turned back to the goblin. "Could you take me to my Trust Vault, please? I'd like to collect some muggle money from there before returning to Senior Account Manager Bloodbringer's office."

"Very well," the goblin replied.

Harry nodded and they both got back on the cart.

Xxxx

Once he was finished with his business in his vaults, Harry was returned to Bloodbringer's office. The moment the old goblin saw him, Bloodbringer held up the scroll he had been reading. "The Wizengamot are certainly determined to keep you in Britain, Mr Potter. They can do this easily at this point, as you are still under seventeen. But when you do reach your majority, their options will become limited."

"Unless Fudge and Dumbledore and the rest of those intellectual giants come up with a second scheme designed to keep me here," Harry was annoyed that his plans to emigrate to America had been messed up. "Senior Account Manager Bloodbringer, I discovered enough about Hogwarts to learn if I took the OWLs and NEWTs back to back within the same year and if I took up masteries, then I could prove I was a qualified wizard. Is that possible now, in my unique case?"

Bloodbringer sat back in his chair. The question had rocked him but he recovered quickly, "I don't see why not, Mr Potter. However, you will need to be extremely quick in your plans."

"I figured as much. If I don't do this then Dumbledore will keep me locked up in this stinking shithole of a country - no offence - for the rest of my life," Harry scowled at the thought of himself being confined by the Ministry of Magic and conjured an image of himself at 80 still pining for freedom but knowing it was never going to happen. He was determined to make sure the Ministry didn't make that mistake, and an even nicer image of the Ministry in flames filled his mind. The thought of destroying the Ministry, with their magical brethren' fountain destroyed, melted into a million pieces. He shook his head to rid himself of the images and he turned his attention back to Bloodbringer. "I learnt of my American cousins a few years back, but I was never able to contact them. Are there any other methods of getting in touch with them?"

Bloodbringer knew how important this was for the young wizard, and he nodded quickly, "Barring conventional owl post, which is far from ideal in this case, there are protean journals or two-way mirrors; they are very simple, they are enchanted in a way that allows communication over large distances. You simply say the name of the person whom you are trying to contact, and they will answer it and vice-versa."

"An enchanted communications mirror? I never knew they existed?" Much of Harry's research into magic revolved around spells mostly, not something like this. "I've heard of Protean Journals; they use the protean charm, and you write messages in them and the second journal picks it up, is that right?"

"That's correct, Mr Potter," Bloodbringer said patiently.

Harry mulled the choices over in his mind. "I like them both," he said at last, "where can I buy them and how can I send them off without the Wizengamot or Dumbledore interfering?"

"You believe they will, especially after your defeat of the Dark Lord?"

"They did before," Harry minded the goblin. "Dumbledore went out of his way to draft legislation preventing the Potters from America from coming here and visiting, never mind adopting me," he grimaced at the thought. "The sooner I rebuild bridges with them the better. As far as I'm concerned, those fools didn't have the right to decide where I lived, just so I would fight off their Dark Lord. Voldemort was going to come after me, no matter where I lived or who I lived with."

Bloodbringer nodded at the logic. The Dark Lord had shown his obsession with the last British Potter. "I can arrange for you to have the Protean Journals and the Communication Mirror right now, Mr Potter, and I'll charge it to your vault."

"I don't care, so long as I get to speak and meet with my family," Harry wondered if his stomach could be bouncing anymore fiercely at the anticipation he was feeling. The doubts he'd had with Sirius Black were irrelevant now. He'd had doubts about the convict his godfather had become, who'd cared more for revenge than looking after his newly orphaned godson, but he'd been willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because of his earnest manner.

But the MACUSA offered him hope and if that hope turned out to be as empty as Sirius's promises, then he could emigrate somewhere new. It wasn't a problem for him.

Bloodbringer wrote a quick message on a sheet of parchment and with a wave of his long fingers, it vanished. A few minutes later, there came a knock on the door.

"Enter!" Bloodbringer barked.

The door opened and a goblin stepped inside carrying a small but bulky package. The new goblin dropped it onto the desk and bowed to Bloodbringer before he walked out and closed the door. Bloodbringer opened the package, revealing two leather-bound books and two mirrors. "I will give you a journal and a mirror, Mr Potter," he said, "and I'll send the other two in the sets to the MACUSA now."

Harry nodded and watched as Bloodbringer wrote a note, waving his fingers and summoning an envelope and placing the letter inside it. He then wrote a second note, putting it into another envelope, before he repackaged the journal and the mirror and placed them into the out tray, where they both vanished.

"My counterpart in the MACUSA will receive the package and the letters now," Bloodbringer reported. "Now, is there anything else you need?"

Harry thought the question through for a moment. "No-Oh, wait, there is something you can clarify for me. During the Triwizard Tournament, Dumbledore and Barty Crouch Senior and Ludo Bagman told me I was in a competition for wizards who were of age. Remember, I sent you a letter in the goblin message box, and you told me I was an adult. Recognised by magic. I want to know if I can get into Potter Manor now."

"I wouldn't know for sure, Mr Potter," Bloodbringer remembered how interested Harry was when he had learnt of Potter Manor's existence; he had been determined to find other properties at the time. "However, we can try now."

Bloodbringer opened his desk drawer and he drew out a small box and handed it to Harry. It reminded him of the ring boxes muggles used to hold engagement rings, except this box was covered in runes and the Potter family crest. Opening it up Harry found a dark metallic ring with a small ruby mounted on it. Harry recognised it at once as a Head Ring; he had seen similar rings on the fingers of Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley's fingers, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

With this ring, he would be seen as a true adult in the magical world even if he was early by a couple of years, but this ring would grant him several abilities like nobody being able to read his mind, and with luck, he would get the location of Potter Manor. Traditionally the Head Ring would give him information when it registered his adult status and his age, usually when he reached his magical majority, but since the Triwizard Tournament had deemed him old enough, Harry hoped the ring would see it as a good loophole and he would be allowed to not only know where Potter Manor was, but clearance to get in.

For a moment, Harry was disappointed there was nothing, and then he felt something. Knowledge of the family's history filled his mind, chunks of the personalities of his ancestors crossed his consciousness and so did memories. As images of the various Potter properties flowed through his mind like a gently flowing river, Harry acquired the knowledge of how to enter them.

Harry nodded to Bloodbringer. "The ring's accepted me," he said distantly as he tried to control the flow of information, but before he could speak further there was a knock on the door. Impatiently, Bloodbringer turned to the office door. "Enter!" He barked again.

The door opened.

A goblin walked in but didn't come further into the office. "My apologies, sir," the goblin said, sounding like he genuinely regretted the interruption. "Albus Dumbledore is here in Gringotts. He says he wishes to speak to your client."

Bloodbringer turned to Harry. The young wizard was annoyed but he looked resigned. "Dumbledore's agents must have told him I was here," Harry commented, "several people saw me walking through Diagon Alley. I went without a disguise because I wanted the wizarding to know I was out. It also means Dumbledore's known I was here, and I haven't left."

Bloodbringer could see the young wizard wasn't happy about this. "We can delay him?" He suggested.

Harry considered the offer for a moment, but he shook his head. "Tempting, but no," he said at last. "Dumbledore doesn't like being told no. He'll keep pushing and pushing until you relent. You might as well let him come in. But, take your time but don't take too long, if you catch my drift?" He smirked at the waiting goblin.

Both goblins grinned viciously. Goblins weren't fans of wizards at the best of times, but Albus Dumbledore had caused them more than a few problems over the years. And what he had done with the Potter heir was a nightmare in itself. Harry had only kept them quiet about it because he didn't want the old wizard to be tipped off, it would disturb so many of his plans for freedom. And he didn't need the trouble now, not when so much was at stake.

Bloodbringer turned to the second goblin. "You heard the young man," he showed his newfound respect for Harry Potter by calling him that. "Lead him around and then bring him here. Try to take…ooh," he pretended to think up the amount of time, "half an hour, three-quarters of an hour?"

The goblin grinned even more like a shark, and then he was gone, politely closing the door behind him.

Xxxx

"Hello, Harry," Albus Dumbledore was able to hold off his fatigue and annoyance with the goblin, who claimed to be new, who'd led him around the maze of corridors in Gringotts through sheer experience and self-control.

For a moment he cast his eyes over the young wizard in the office. His heart ached when he saw the toll Azkaban had had on Harry. The shoulder-length white hair was still matted but by far cleaner than it had been before, and while he was stronger now in build, there were signs of hollowness in his cheeks.

But what scared the old wizard the most was Harry's eyes.

His emerald green eyes, once sparkling and full of life despite everything he had gone through, were harder and colder like the power was contained in a cold, frozen lake.

Dumbledore knew a large chunk of the blame for Harry's current state rested on his shoulders, but while he had tried to protect the boy, eventually he was caught up believing the lies Severus and Barty Crouch junior had given him about Harry, so he'd turned his back as well. But discovering the boy had always hated him hurt a great deal, but after witnessing those memories of Harry's life pre-Hogwarts, he could understand it.

"Mr Potter to you," Harry's cold voice snapped him back to reality.

Dumbledore blinked in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Mr Potter. Only my friends can call me Harry, and you are not one of them," Harry snapped.

Dumbledore flinched, knowing he had nobody else but himself to blame. "Very well, Mr Potter," he said, knowing his habit of ignoring people's wishes would cause problems later. "First, let me say, on behalf of myself, the Wizengamot, the wizarding world, and Hogwarts, I apologise from the bottom of my heart for your imprisonment."

Harry was silent, but Dumbledore could hear the hisses of breath as the boy's chest rose and fell while he glared back at him. Dumbledore could see Harry was incandescent with rage.

"That it?" Harry asked.

A little concerned Harry was unemotional and unconcerned, since he had expected something more, Dumbledore decided to go on. He took out two scrolls from his robes and placed them right in front of the boy. Harry eyed them untrustingly.

"I assure you, they're not dangerous, Ha-Mr Potter," Dumbledore said.

Harry didn't touch them. "What are they?"

"One of the scrolls is a pardon and a release from the Ministry, countersigned by Fudge, Madam Bones, and myself. It also contains an order for compensation, a million galleons."

Harry snorted in disgust. "Does Fudge think money is going to erase the fact I've lost a whole year of my life?!"

Dumbledore went on. The question was not an unexpected one and he knew the boy had taken it as an insult, and after seeing what he had gone through, Dumbledore couldn't blame him. "The second one is a re-admittance to Hogwarts. You will receive another from Hogwarts when you receive your list for the upcoming year."

Harry glared at him. "Alright, I'm coming back to Hogwarts. You win. I would have wanted to go to a different school to get a fresh start. Speaking of which, I will be re-sorted when I get back."

Dumbledore looked down at him in disappointment. "Since we have no choice since you would die and lose your magic, something we don't want, you will have to be re-sorted. You shouldn't have done that, Harry. How will you forgive your friends if you're in a different House?"

"I don't have any friends," Harry replied brutally. "Everyone turned on me when I was made a Champion in the Triwizard Tournament and the time between that night and when I proved my innocence proved to me friendship is a pointless weakness. Later they stood back and joined in when I was accused of mass murder, and I got the message. You can't trust anyone. I learnt that during my years with the Dursleys, but I didn't follow that lesson."

Dumbledore flinched.

"What, you don't like being reminded of how you condemned me to a life of solitude, and yet you kept forcing me to see them as family, trying to make me enjoy a childhood that simply didn't exist," Harry said with contempt. "It's amazing how many different contradictory sides to your nature exist, Professor. One side of you seems to care for everyone, and yet another sees people as pawns. I know you turned many students into child soldiers during the last war, and how you did nothing when Grindelwald was running unchecked. And yet you dare claim I am a potential Dark Lord when you keep pushing me there more than once?"

Dumbledore glowered at Harry furiously. He had gone to a lot of trouble to keep his actions during Grindelwald's rise to a prominent threat contained and quiet, but he was furious when Harry accused him of creating child soldiers, and throwing inside his inner fear of Harry being overwhelmed enough to become a Dark Lord.

"Harry, I am trying to keep you safe, and I didn't turn anyone into child weapons-," Dumbledore protested.

"Oh no? So the time when you made me, Granger, and the Weasel go after the Philosopher's Stone in a trap that was easy to break into wasn't a training program, and you didn't manipulate anyone into joining the aurors when they weren't suited to the job or fighting the Death Eaters?" There was a sneer in Harry's voice before the boy stood up, and a glint of light caught Dumbledore's eye, and he thought he had just seen a flash of ruby, and his heart stopped; no, Harry couldn't have done… "You are not playing that game with this time, Headmaster. I don't care what you do to anyone else since you can clean up the mess for a change, but I want you to leave me alone." Harry turned to Bloodbringer, who'd been listening to this in amusement and even admiration, and the boy's hardened and expressionlessly calm manner faded a little and a genuine smile appeared on his face, "Thank you for your help today, Senior Account Manager," Harry turned back to Dumbledore, and his face became a blank mask with his eyes becoming harder. "I'll be on my way, then-."

"One moment, Harry. There's the matter of where you will be staying for the summer."

"You will not tell me where to go."

"Harry, you are a minor," Dumbledore protested. "You can't be on your own, especially in your current state. You're a powerful, very angry young man. You need to be around people to help you."

"Oh, I will be hanging around other people to keep me sane. But I don't plan on being around anyone I know," Harry said.

Dumbledore didn't like this. He needed the boy to be watched so then he could forgive. "Harry, the Weasleys, Sirius, and Andromeda Tonks are waiting in the Leaky Cauldron, hoping you will spend the summer with them."

Harry's mouth was opening with the refusal on the tip of his tongue, but he blinked in surprise. "Andromeda Tonks?" Harry ran the name in his mind but nothing rang a bell. "Who's Andromeda Tonks?"

"A distant cousin. Incidentally, she is Sirius's cousin. She was friends with your parents," Dumbledore explained.

"Why am I hearing about her now?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "I… made sure you didn't meet her, Harry."

Harry scowled at him. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You did what you did with the Potters living in the MACUSA. You used your position to keep her from meeting me, from taking me in, all because you wanted me to be your little weapon against Lord Voldemort. Y'know I wonder how many sins will be shoved down your throat when you finally die."

With that, Harry walked out. He didn't bother to say anything else as there was nothing he could do, as it was in the past. Dumbledore stood there in the office, stunned. The goblin's chuckling and shuffling of the papers on his desk made him return to reality, and he rushed off after Harry.

Bloodbringer chuckled harder. "That boy grows on me."