A/N: Sorry for the long delay in updates, a power surge fried my PC and once I did get it replaced writer's block kicked in fierce. I was finally able to power through and get the words on paper for this chapter and I'm hopeful that it will keep flowing from here. Thanks to everyone who follows or favorites this story, it's what keeps me going!

July 31, 1991

Harry awoke in his bed, feeling a rush of excitement course through him. He was finally eleven, and Sirius had promised him and Neville a trip to Diagon to celebrate. Grinning, Harry tumbled out of bed and tore down the long wooden steps into the great hall of Black Manor. Skidding to a stop in the kitchen, he found Amanda cooking breakfast. She turned to give the boy an indulgent grin, warmth lighting up her blue eyes. As queen of the peerage, to cook would have been seen as beneath her in Underworld society, but Amanda found it relaxing. Seeing the appreciation of Sirius, Harry and the others as they devoured her food was all the reward she needed.

"I hope you're hungry, Harry. I whipped up a special birthday treat just for you."

Shooting him a wink, she slid a plate of pancakes towards him with a simple white candle sticking out. She snapped her fingers and the candle lit with a white flame before dissolving into a fine mist. The mist hovered over Harry's plate for a moment before condensing into a thick cloud that began to snow down powdered sugar over his breakfast.

"Wicked!" Harry exclaimed as he watched the mini storm sweeten his meal. Amanda grinned at him and busied herself with the rest of the meal. She was just sliding the last of the bacon onto a plate when a disheveled looking Sirius wandered into the room. Spying Harry, his face split into a wide grin.

"There's my birthday boy! Get over here and give your godfather a hug!"

Cheeks turning red in embarrassment, Harry tried to give Sirius a light squeeze before stepping away, but Sirius wasn't about to let that happen. Capturing Harry by the arms, he held him in place, overcome with nostalgia. Every year he felt a dull ache ripple through his chest as he gazed at those familiar green eyes, but it had lessened significantly. The scar which had graced the young boy for the first years of his life was all but gone, fading slowly ever since Azazel had helped Harry expel the piece of Albion within him. He was still a bit short for his age, but his eyes held a bright shine of happiness, and he was as fit and healthy as any boy his age. The glasses Harry had worn early on were nothing but a memory, as his vision had cleared up once the piece of Albion had been expelled. Azazel theorized the conflicting magical energies had placed pressure on his nerves, causing the vison problems. Finally releasing the boy with a tussle of his hair, Sirius sat down to eat. A stack of letters appeared next to him with a sparkle, likely a house elf sensing its master's arrival.

A thick parchment letter bearing a wax seal caught his attention and he scowled at the familiar crest before picking it up with a resigned sigh.

"Looks like your Hogwarts letter came," he said, trying to show some enthusiasm for his godson. Harry accepted the letter, looking conflicted.

"It's okay if you want to go there Harry, but like I told you it'll be your choice. There's plenty of fine muggle or Underworld schools we could arrange for you."

He tried to keep his voice neutral, but inside he was scowling. He had finally sat Harry down and explained Dumbledore to him a few months ago. Keeping his account neutral had proven harder than anticipated, and he'd had to rely on Amanda to finish the tale for him when it came time to tell how Dumbledore had tried to get his wrinkly old hands on Harry and his inheritance.

"Well, um…Neville's going to be going there…and I'd like to at least see where you, mum and dad went to school," Harry stuttered nervously. He cast an anxious glance towards Sirius, who was surprised to see trepidation in the young boy's face. Grimacing, he realized that he must not have been nearly as neutral on the subject as he'd hoped if Harry was this nervous to even have the conversation with him. Meeting the boy's eyes, he leaned forward.

"Harry James Potter, the world is your oyster. If you decided you didn't even want to go to school, I wouldn't force you. If this is what you want, then we'll pick up your supplies today in Diagon."

Harry immediately relaxed, a grin splitting his face.

"Thanks Sirius. Don't worry, I'll be careful around Dumbledore. Me and Neville will keep each other safe and watch out for him trying to meddle."

Sirius felt a wave of relief sweep over him. Neville Longbottom and Harry had stayed close since the day Harry collapsed, and knowing he would have a staunch ally in his corner made Sirius feel a little better. He privately resolved to have a word with Dumbledore before the year began and inform him in no uncertain terms that Harry was beyond his reach.

"Well, if we're going to get there with enough time to get all our shopping done, I'd best get dressed. Care to join me, Amanda?"

Her response came in the form of stinging bolts of red light which Sirius had to duck and dodge, yelping as they chased him from the room.

"Remember Harry, when you do get a peerage, don't make as many passes at your queen as my lecherous Lord."

"Yes ma'am," said Harry seriously.

Before Harry and Sirius could leave for Diagon, a pair of unexpected visitors showed up to give the boy their best. Sirzechs and Azazel chuckled at Harry's clear impatience to get out of the house and onto the day ahead. His attention was diverted when he realized that both men had brought him gifts. Molified, Harry opened the small box from Sirzechs first. Inside, he found a set of chess pieces, glowing red and pulsing with rhythmic light. He peered at the older devil in confusion before remembering his manners.

"Um…thank you, Uncle Sirzechs. It's a really nice set of pieces, I'm sure they'll help me win my next game."

Sirzechs rolled his eyes as Azazel snickered.

"Harry, those are no ordinary pieces. These are Evil Pieces." Harry felt a shiver run through him at the foreboding name as he peered again at the innocuous artifacts. "They allow the king of the set to create devils with the remaining pieces. It's how devils create our peerages." Sirzechs motioned for Harry to lie back and pull his shirt up. Feeling trepidation, but trusting the devil he had come to know well, he followed his instructions. Sirzechs reached into the carved box and removed the king piece from within it. He placed it on Harry's sternum, just over his heart. With a look of intense concentration on his face, Sirzechs began to whisper unfamiliar words. "Infernum invoco, tenebris accendo, Corpus tuum mutare in daemonium volo! Evolvatur ex te, ignis infernalis! Devilus esto, per aeternitatem!" As his chant continued, the piece on Harry's chest began to glow and pulse in time with his heartbeat. Harry gasped as the piece began to heat up, growing uncomfortably hot against his bare skin. Once Sirzechs chant was finished, it slid into his skin like it was sinking into water. Tossing his head back, Harry gritted his teeth. He could still feel the heat burning him from within now as it settled into his chest, radiating outward like fire through his veins.

Ddraig's mind brushed against his, offering wordless comfort to the struggling boy which he seized onto like a lifeline. The dragon's presence filled him with resolve and he found he was able to rise above the pain, conquering it even as he felt the fire subside within him, leaving a warm glow throughout his whole being. When he opened his eyes, the room came into sharper focus than ever before. Harry felt like he could see the individual dust motes dancing in the flickering firelight of the Black Manor sitting room. Peering up into Sirius's concerned face he gave his godfather a grin before sitting all the way up, head spinning.

"It is custom in the Underworld for nobles to receive their Evil Pieces when they enter their teens, so they have years to learn and grow their powers before becoming full fledged members of our society. Given your affinity with the Boosted Gear, I felt you would be able to handle the piece earlier than most."

Harry sat up slowly, still feeling a lot of new information flooding into his suddenly keen senses. Sirzechs watched the boy, exhaling slowly. The King piece had taken to its new host, and he could already sense the changes it was working on the boy's magical core.

"Each set of Evil Pieces is unique, designed to be used by one devil only," said Sirzechs, adopting a lecturing tone into his voice. "This set stands out above all others however. It was crafted for the only noble devil to ever reject his pieces. Your father."

Harry shot an incredulous glance at the devil king. He glanced down at his arm, calling forth the Boosted Gear silently. When the gauntlet appeared, it had undergone a transformation with its master. The gauntlet, which had only covered his hand up to that point, now extended almost to his elbow. New rows of spiky plates layered together to cover its masters forearm, and the golden spikes near its top had elongated. Azazel stepped forward with an interested look, examining the sacred gear's new appearance.

"It appears your Boosted Gear has responded to your new King Piece and evolved. You should find your abilities improving with it rapidly. You might even achieve a balance breaker form within the next few years."

Although Harry was pleased with the news of his progress, Sirzechs' words still stuck in his mind. He looked back at the devil king, his question written all over his young face. The older devil sighed and leaned forward, sincerity etched into his face.

"James Potter was a respected member of the underworld. Although not a politically active family, the Potters were still one of the 72 pillars now matter how minor. When he was just a few years older than you, he too received his King piece. It is the very piece that sits within you now."

Harry felt a pulse of magic emanate from the piece now embedded within him. Although he couldn't feel it physically, its magic radiated through his body like a howling wind. The thought it had once been a part of his father comforted him, he had never had anything of his parents to call his own.

"When he met your mother, he was smitten. Women from both the underworld and wizarding world were begging him for marriage, but he only had eyes for her. He offered her the world, immortality at his side and anything else she wanted. She chose to remain human, to stay mortal." Sirzechs paused at the memory of the vibrant young woman. "In all my years, I've never met a human who truly did not fear death. Offered the opportunity to escape it, she turned it down in favor of a life with her husband and family. It left an impression on James, and he rejected his Evil Piece and returned the set to Ajuka. When I asked him to procure a set for you, he suggested this one. He thought it may have been meant for you all along."

Throat suddenly thick, Harry turned his eyes downward.

"Do you think they'd be disappointed I accepted it then?" he asked in a small voice. It was Sirius who spoke from behind him.

"The one thing James and Lily would never want is for you to feel guilty over who you are. These pieces are a part of your heritage, Harry. Just like any magic, its effect depends on the user. Will you create a force of warriors around you to protect the weak? Preserve the brightest minds of the age? Or take a page out of my book and score some babes."

The crass attempt at humor cut through the gloom that had begun to descend on Harry and he couldn't help but laugh at the suggestive look Sirius sent his way. Looking down, he reached his decision.

"I'll keep it and the other pieces. Just because my dad found someone he would give up the world for doesn't mean that I will. If he had just kept this piece, that night might have turned out differently. I won't let anyone hurt the people I love, ever again." Hearing the resolve in his godson's voice moved Sirius, and he knelt to hug him.

"Remember Harry," Sirius spoke, voice stern. "Just because you have these pieces now doesn't mean you should be in a rush to use them. Some devils take years to fill their peerage, others take centuries, and some never use all their pieces. When you reincarnate a human, you are effectively murdering them and resurrecting them as a magical being bound to you. It is not a choice either you, or they, should make lightly."

Nodding his assent, Harry stood up and gave Sirzechs a firm hug. Taken a little off guard, the devil looked flustered for a second before returning the gesture. Clearing his throat, he stepped back and gestured towards Azazel, who was holding a small package of his own. Upon opening it, Harry found a simple-looking necklace with a single black feather on it.

"Thanks Azazel, what does this do?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's one of my wing feathers, if you're ever in trouble just send some magic through it and I'll be able to sense where you are and your current condition." The fallen angel looked a little self-conscious, but accepted Harry's sincere hug with a smile tugging up the edges of his mouth.

With birthday celebrations out of the way, Sirius and Amanda took Harry to Diagon to shop for his Hogwarts supplies and to introduce him to the goblins who would be managing the Potter fortune for him until he came of age. Although Harry had accompanied Sirius occasionally to the gleaming marble domes of Gringotts, entering himself had left the majesty of the place weighing in on him. Remembering Sirius's advice, Harry squared his shoulders and marched with purpose to the nearest desk. The goblin perched above him peered down in annoyance at the young wizard.

"Harry James Potter, to see the Potter account manager."

The goblin's demeanor changed immediatly and he eyed Harry with an appraising look.

"Wait here, Heir Potter, and I will inform Account Manager Urnok that you have arrived."

The goblin hopped down from his high stool and scurried off. Not for the first time, Harry idly wondered why such small creatures used ridiculously oversized furniture.

"Compensating for something, I would imagine" Ddraig chuckled. Harry fought to keep his face impassive at the dragon's comment, but broadcast his agreement. Only a few minutes later the reception goblin returned.

"Account Manager Urnok will see you now, Heir Potter."

Leading him through a side door, Harry found himself in a hallway of offices. Through the few open doors they walked past, Harry could see a variety of goblins working on stacks of documents taller than they were. Finally coming to a door that looked just like the dozens of others they had passed, the goblin escorting him knocked once before opening the door and ushering Harry inside. Account Manager Urnok was tall for a goblin, almost Harry's height. His office, although plain at first inspection hinted at his status. A finely carved wooden desk dominated the center of it, sitting atop a thick and colorful carpet. A few small paintings hung on the wall, framing a simple bookshelf packed with binders. After the brief introductions, the reception goblin hurried out, leaving Harry with his account manager.

"Well Heir Potter, it is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance finally. Your godfather has done his diligence in seeing to your investments, but I have all your records here and ready to review in as much detail as you wish."

Seeing his afternoon out slipping away from him, Harry blanched.

"As you stated, Account Manager, my godfather has wisely left financial decisions regarding my family's vaults to your experienced judgement. I have no desire to change that now, but an introduction to my assets and claiming of the Potter family ring are my main goals today."

Sirius had instructed him that goblins were intelligent, cunning and above all looked down upon. He had impressed upon Harry that he should be polite, direct and courteous without showing weakness or appearing to slight the goblins. By the small smile that appeared on Urnok's face, Harry guessed he had just won a few points in the goblin's book.

"Very good, Heir Potter. I will send for the ring, and in the meantime, we can begin our review of your assets."

Harry's mind was swimming with numbers as he stared at the spreadsheets the goblin had handed him. Aside from several properties around the world, the Potters had apparently kept a sizable amount of land in the Underworld. He was now the owner of Potter Manor in the Norfolk countryside, a private villa in the Swiss Alps, and he was almost positive his dad had purchased an island in the Pacific. Besides the property, his family vault held an almost inconceivable amount of galleons. Sensing the boy was getting overwhelmed, Urnok gently cut in.

"Heir Potter, listing the assets your family holds would take us the better part of the day. Suffice it to say, there is enough at your disposal that you and your descendants would never need to work again if you chose to do so. For now, you only have access to your trust vault which contains 250,000 galleons and will refill to that amount at the end of each year of your schooling. That is all you need to worry about now, the rest can be gone over later."

A knock sounded, and a goblin entered bearing a small box, which he handed to Urnok with a bow. Opening the carved wooden box revealed a plain silver ring, adorned with the Potter crest of arms. Holding the box out to Harry, Urnok indicated he should take it. Harry picked the ring up, feeling the cool silver on his skin. Pausing for only a moment, he slid the ring onto his right ring finger where he had seen Sirius wear his. There was a brief flash, then the ring shrunk to fit snugly around the digit.

"Very good, Head Potter. The family ring has recognized you as the heir to the Potter house. As you have not yet come of age, you are not eligible to claim the title of Lord Potter for yourself, but as the last surviving member of the Potter house, you can now assume the position of Head of House. I believe we can conclude our business here today, but I look forward to working with you in the future."

Harry got up, the ring an unfamiliar weight on his hand as he extended his hand to the goblin for a perfunctory shake.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Account Manager Urnok. May your gold flow and good fortune smile on you."

Urnok blinked in surprise as Harry gave the traditional goblin salutation. He gave the young boy a genuine grin. Young Harry Potter, he mused, was going to be an interesting client indeed.