Pardon my french. *Ahem* Wassup b*tches! Guess what?! Guess what?! I'm re-posting the chapters, newly updated, hopefully improved, with more detail and plot, and the plot is different slightly. You'll see. In this chapter I established Harry's powers a bit more, among other things. Prepare yourselves for the coming updates. (I wanted to do a 12 days of Christmas thing, but I don't have that many chapters. Don't worry, you get Christmas Specials for all my stories!)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything, except for theories and explanations as to why some things happen, as well as some abilities. I'm sorry for copying the idea of an intro Song from a writer I think is great, but it is way too good of an idea for me not to do. :D

"Hi, I am dialogue!"

'I am thoughts, most often used with angsty and frustrated ones, since Harry is a moody and hormonal teenager. Also creepy voices in the back of your head. Don't worry about it.'

I have no single quotes on me, so I may be a book title or a spell or just being here to emphasize something.

Magical Chanting. YAY for sacrifices!

Intro Song: From Shadows [Black RWBY Trailer] (Italics: Abaddon, Bold: Shalltear, Both: Both)

Born with no life
Into subjugation
Treated like a worthless animal
Stripped of all rights
Just a lesser being
Crushed by cruel ruthless human rule
When it started
All we wanted was a chance to live our lives
Now in darkness
Taking everything we want and we will rise
We'll rise
We'll rise

[Chorus]
From shadows
We'll descend upon the world
Take back what you stole
From shadows
We'll reclaim our destiny
Set our future free
And we'll rise
And we'll rise
Above the darkness and the shame
Above the torture and the pain
Above the ridicule and hate
Above the binding of our fate

Call us liars
Degenerates and killers
Psychos, heartless, insane criminals
Stupid mutts and
Nothing but pure evil
Primal, bloodshed, that's all that's left to do
We're misguided
Treated us like we're criminals and we should hide
Born indicted
Tired of being pushed around and we will fly
We'll fly
We'll fly

From shadows
We'll descend upon the world
From shadows
We'll reclaim our destiny

-End Intro-

Now, see, Harry James Potter was not your average teen, let alone your average wizard. He is known as the Boy-Who-Lived, the killer of Voldemort, the Chosen One. As of the last year at Hogwarts, his fourth year, he had been put into the Triwizard Tournament. The Tournament consisted of three deadly trials, each designed to test the combatant. And with his Potter Luck, he had been entered by one of Voldemort's followers, seeing as he was not old enough to pass the age line that surrounded it. Unfortunately, the goblet accepted him under a false school, and he became a contestant. The entire thing was rubbish, and ended with the Hogwarts real champion dying, and Harry winning. He still had nightmares about that night.

"Kill the spare..." A slithery voice whispered.

A flash of green, like Harry's eyes, but more toxic.

Cedric's dead body hitting the floor.

...

Voldemort, rising from the cauldron, his pale face shining in the night.

Harry, being forced to duel Voldemort. Rolling to the side past a killing curse. Diving sideways to dodge a strange white curse, which rippled as it moved. The curse went through his Protego, and hit his heart. And nothing happened, which was as worrying as it was surprising. Harry hid behind the tombstone, putting the information that he was hit with something unknown, and focusing on the threat behind him.

His parents, coming out of Voldemort's wand, him breaking the connection between the wands, and grabbing the cup.

Then darkness.

Harry had escaped with Cedric's body, and used the cup to return to Hogwarts. When he returned, the entire audience thought him a fool, an attention seeking brat, and did not believe him when he said Voldemort was back. After that fiasco, he decided that if Dumbledore wasn't going to teach him to fight, then he would teach himself. There was no need to try asking for assistance if he were going to get none. As he did not have a large repertoire of spells, he using his books he had nicked from the school library when madame Pince wasn't looking. Getting the books was no small task, but he managed it in the end thanks to the marauders map and his cloak.

He had heard his uncle complaining loudly to his Aunt one weekend over the summer.

F

"Petunia, the bank sent a bank statement about the accounts!" his uncle said, frustrated, to his aunt one day at dinner.

"Vernon, darling, what's wrong about that?" she said, confused.

Vernon sighed. "They noticed we have more money than we should from Grunnings. What should we do?"

Petunia shook her head. "We'll simply hide proof we have that much. Everything is starting to go online, so it's simply an error from that?" she tried.

Vernon nodded to himself. "Yes, that should do it." he said to himself, blissfully unaware Harry could hear him from outside under the windowsill.

F

Harry had became suspicious. Why hadn't Gringotts sent him any letters about the conditions of his accounts? It should be a common practice, especially since the snobby purebloods wouldn't want to go all the way to Gringotts just to get a checkup. It would be beneath them. Harry smirked at the thought of Draco and Voldemort waiting in line together to access their vaults.

He had managed to sneak away from the Dursley's gaze on some off weekends, and leave Privet Drive. He had known of an apartment complex that was collapsing nearby, and had left to go there when no one was observing him. Upon arrival, he broke the font door and placed a locking charm on it. He also repaired the structural integrity of the building. Honestly, repair spells aren't difficult, you just need to understand where something is broken and why, then use the spell. It turned out that the spells that kept track of underage magic were on the wand, but also on the wizard's house, if there were no other magic users who might set them off. Harry jotted that down on his rapidly compiling list of things he hadn't been told about.

He practiced all the spells in his textbooks within the apartment complex. Harry began with wards, and then once he could safely ward the building, he then began offensive spells, now that he had a building resistant to magic. His favorite types of magics were the wards and runes, because it naturally came to him. Fire magic was also his forte, because he understood that it was unpredictable to the enemy, being able to jump through the air in a second, twisting into different shapes and forms. It also was really pretty. He had read about Fiendfyre and wanted to try it, but it was illegal, which was disappointing.

One last thing he had found out was when he was experimenting with fire in the beginning, is that he has a natural instinct for wandless magic. He had been practicing small fire whips, and one had gone astray. The flames licked hungrily on his books, which would burn up, losing most of his knowledge. Acting on instinct, he flung out his hand as he closed his eyes. He opened them when nothing happened. He saw that his book was hovering away from where the fire was, completely fine. His magical core felt like he wasn't using it much. After some practice, he realized he could do wandless magic. It wasn't as hard as one might thing. Really, it was directing accidental magic, although it isn't accidental anymore. He was confident now that he was on par, if not better than the average Auror, simply from the determination not to have one of his friends die again, and the skill he had shown with the fire magic. He was ready, and headed to Gringotts.

The Knight Bus pulled up to the bank with a screech, and a few seconds later a disheveled Harry stumbled out of the bus. He passed the appropriate amount of money to Stan Shunpike, and walked briskly into Gringotts. Arriving at the goblin teller's desk, he patiently waited as the goblin finished writing on whatever document he had before him. Once the goblin finished, it looked up at him with a toothy sneer. "Greetings, Mr. Potter." it said, sounding forcefully polite. "Have you finally decided to reply to our requests to see you?"

Harry frowned, looking back on his life. He could say with one hundred percent certainty that he had never received a bank missive from Gringotts. He peered at the name tag on the goblin's desk. "Greetings, GrimmJaw. That is what I wished to speak with you about. I have never received any kind of note or letter from Gringotts in my life." he said with great uncertainty. "I also would like to know about the state of my accounts."

GrimmJaw frowned. "You are saying you have never received any notes or requests to speak with the bank about your accounts?" it inquired. Harry nodded the affirmative. "Very well." he said suspiciously. "If you would please prove your identity. Place three droplets of blood onto this parchment." The goblin gestured to an ornate knife that was on his desk. Harry reached for the blade, and as he held it, he felt a strange feeling. As if a voice in his head was whispering to him. 'That knife is rather sharp. It would be so easy to just stab someone.' it whispered ominously. He shook his head, startled at the thoughts, which appeared out of nowhere. Harry had had thoughts like that out of nowhere recently, like one time when he had accidentally burned a bird nest once when using the magic. He absentmindedly noted that he didn't mind the smell of burning flesh. He almost enjoyed it, really... It sounded a lot creepier out loud.

Harry quickly cut his hand to let out blood and distract himself, and cut himself deeper than was needed. Harry dripped the blood onto the parchment, and then removed his hand, covering the wound. He cast a healing charm on it, and it glowed as it healed.

Upon the page, lines began appearing.

Harry James Potter
Age: 16
Born July 31st 1980

"Thank you for confirming your identity." the goblin began, "However, we are sorry to inform you, Mr. Potter, that Gringotts cannot do anything about your financial issues or help you with your duties as heir to the Ancient and Noble Houses, due to multiple reasons. Those being firstly, you are a minor. Second, your magical guardian has forbidden it. Thirdly, you do not have your key. Fourth, you Finally, unless these are cleared up, I cannot allow you to access your vaults. Although Dumbledore was taking money from your vault without consent, according to the Gringotts contract, it was your fault for letting anyone other than you use your key." GrimmJaw informed Harry.

Harry gaped at him. "Dumbledore? Dumbledore?! Ruddy Albus DUMBLEDORE was stealing from my accounts? How?" he cried, outraged. The goblin frowned. "This is a unique position we have here. You were never given instructions about your vault, let alone the Lordships. I am informing you know that once someone has your vault key and permission from either the owner of the vault or the magical guardian, they can access your vault freely. The person removing money from your vault it Molly Weasley née Prewitt, who gave the money to Dumbledore."

"Mrs. Weasley?!" he gaped. Harry shook his head and asked his next question. "Well then, what contract? I haven't been given any contract! I had only let Mrs. Weasley use my key to get stuff for Hogwarts! How was I supposed to know she was stealing from me?" Harry replied in outrage.

"Your magical guardian should have explained all of this to you, as well as your guardian being the one to sign the contract that gave you a vault and made him a Guardian. Speaking of contracts, he also put you into one with a 'Miss Ginevra Weasley'."

"Just who the bloody hell is my magical guardian? They put me in a marriage contract with Ginny Weasley, who frankly is the largest Boy-Who-Lived fan-girl I have ever seen! They should be taking care of me, so I wouldn't have to deal with those magic hating muggles." Harry snarled the last word in disgust. His anger began rising at the implications of his guardian doing so. "And what about Sirius Black? He's my godfather!"

The goblin shuffled his papers a little bit before glancing down and reading off the parchment. "Why, Albus Dumbledore of course." he said, ignoring Harry snarling. "It is not our fault that the situation ended up this way Mr. Potter, and frankly we can see no possible way out of this without permission of your guardian, who, to be honest, we both know will not help. Sirius Black is unable to adopt you at the moment, as he is still accused of being a murderer, and regardless of the validity of that statement, he is unable to do so while still being a fugitive. We at Gringotts would like to assist you, but that will only be possible if you were to deal with some points outside of Gringotts that are preventing us to do so."

Harry roared internally in frustration. He sighed, calming for a moment, and turned to GrimmJaw. "May I please take some money out of my account at least?" he asked hopefully. The goblin nodded.

"How much would you like to remove? We can have it sent up, although you cannot access much more of your accounts." Harry thought about what he knew now, and decided he should be prepared for the worst, including his access to the bank being lost more than it already is.

He decided on an amount. "I would like to remove 10,000 galleons please." he said. The goblin nodded, not questioning the amount. The goblin sent off a note with another Goblin who ran off down a corridor to retrieve the money.

Harry had a thought. "This money, will Dumbledore be informed of me removing as much as I am?" he asked. The Goblin shook his head with a chilling grin.

"He won't know if he doesn't ask, now will he? And I don't believe he has a reason to ask." the teller replied with a snarky grin. Harry grinned back. The second goblin ran back to the counter, and deposited a small bag.

"Space charms?" Harry asked, eyeing the very small bag.

"And feather-light charms as well." the Goblin replied. "We hope to see you when you are able to solve your issue Mr. Potter."

"Very well sir. Thank you, and good day." the Harry said with finality, nodding to the teller and turning away in anger from what he had just learned.

Harry stormed out of Gringotts in frustration, mostly towards Dumbledore, finally letting his anger cover him. He blew past a few witches in cloaks, and didn't bother moving and bumped into one forcefully. Harry felt like a wild animal, trapped in a corner. He couldn't ask Ron or Hermione for help, because they frankly didn't care enough to owl him life or death news, especially because Dumbledore told them not to. They were so enamored with the old goat that Harry couldn't rely on them. "You think real friends would at least try harder to help their friend. Actually, now that I think about it, what the heck have they actually done for me? They always leave when it gets to dangerous, and claim glory later on! I should have noticed this back when I was in the TriWizard Tournament! Also, how can I get out of a contract or two? Especially if one of them is a marriage contract and both are bound by blood and magic? It isn't like one could simply change their blood." Harry complained. Then paused.

Unless... No. It isn't that easy, is it? Changing your blood? If I were to

Somewhere on the inside, he knew it all along. The knowledge that none of his supposed friends even trusted him, was what allowed Harry to come up with what he did. He spun around, eyes flickering as he headed down to Knockturn alley, and ensuring that nobody could see him, slipped into Borgin and Burke's. Inside the dimly lit store, Harry kept his hood up and headed to the back shelves where the darker of the dark books were. There were many such books, and he skimmed along them to find the proper ones. The books flashed by as skimmed through them.

Curses for your Enemies, Foul Beasts and Where to Find Them, Killing Through the Ages, Fogging Up the Past, and A Magic Most Evil. Ah! There it was! Harry snagged the book and continued perusing the shelves. Harry had nearly passed it in his interest of the other titles. He continued skimming through the books and in the end chose some that he wanted and some that would help him learn about Voldemort. In the end he had the following Dark books:

Dark Curses and Their Effects

A Magic Most Evil

Moste Potente Potions

Blood Magiks and Rituals

Mind Magiks and Dark Defenses for Them

Soul Magics and Containers

Borgin looked up from the counter to see a figure in a black cloak walk up to the counter carrying some books as well as a silver ritual dagger. "That will be twenty three galleons and five knuts." Borgin said eagerly. Harry eyed the books and snorted.

"No. I offer eighteen Galleons and 3 sickles." he countered.

"21 and 14 sickles."

"20 and 10 Knuts."

"Deal." Borgin smiled, passing over the books in exchange for the money. He looked at the books. "These books are illegal to purchase sir, I must inform you." he said snidely.

"That's why I'm in this bloody store you idiot! Why else would I be in a store with only Dark and Illegal items?!" a voiced said, a hissing quality to it. "Don't worry, no one will see them while they are in my possession. I can trust you to keep quiet about it, yes?" The voice offered, as a few more galleons were set on the counter. "Of course sir! Not a soul will know." Borgin said fearfully, bowing.

"Good, keep it that way" the figure replied, stalking out of the store.

Once he left the building, Harry pulled off his hood and snorted. Borgin was a weak minded fool. All you had to do was look even remotely threatening or be on a mission for the Dark Lord and suddenly you get discounts and he stays quiet. Harry was surprised that Borgin hadn't been caught on, but he had met Death Eaters and Voldemort enough to be able to mimic them.

Harry went through the other stores. First was Flourish and Blotts, where he purchases new inkwells, quills, and scribing tools for runes along with paint. Next he went to the Apothecary to retrieve potion ingredients and cauldrons to work on his potions. It wouldn't do to do badly on his OWLS. He stopped by the greenhouse store to purchase some seeds. He was interested in actually attempting Herbology, instead of messing around with Ron. In the back of his mind, the thought of his betrayal burned, powering his determination. Finally, Harry purchases some new robes, and a new expandable trunk from the other stores.

He headed back to the Leaky Cauldron and called the Knight Bus again. Harry hopped off at his destination at the apartment as the bus left with a bang.

Harry had already moved all of his items he would ever need in the apartment building, protected by a very powerful ward set, which absorbed ambient magic left from his spell casting to power itself. Harry hummed to himself as he packed everything into his new expandable suitcase. Pulling out his scribing tools, Harry carved runes into the bottom of it, and activated them. The runes allowed him to shrink or grow the trunk on command, which worked fine with the expansion charms. Harry was ready.

He set up the ritual he read in Blood Magiks and Rituals in the middle of the room. Earlier in the previous years, Harry had asked Dobby to go and retrieve potions ingredients from the basilisk carcass in the chamber of secrets. He had known they were worth a lot of money, because Snape had ranted when Neville nearly shattered the jar holding a basilisk eye back in third year. He sold the parts for a couple thousand Galleons, and the money kept him going for a few years, which lead to him not checking his account and not hearing about the money being taken out. He still had most of the carcass down in the Chamber so he didn't overwhelm the market with too many parts, lowering their value. The ingredients were put into the center of three circles interlinked, which were within a triangle with the large symbols on each corner, and was within a hexagon, all with runic symbols around it. The runic symbols represented Earth, Life, and Change, and it should work, according to the book.

"Alright, here goes nothing!" Harry thought. Harry began chanting from the book.

Carpe et sanguinem offerens holocaustum et pacifica O potens est et da mihi partem de potestate! (1)

The room started shaking, and the runic circle glowed a crimson red, as the shadows along the walls grew. The blood from the bowl and the ingredients seemed to melt together and flow towards Harry. He could feel his magic reacting with the ritual, and his head started pounding. Suddenly with a scream, a shadowy purple oval appeared in the center of the circle! The last thing Harry saw before passing out was the oval pulling in the surrounding area into itself.

If anyone had been watching the ritual, they would have seen a black mist exit Harry's scar and disappear in a shrill screech, and then he was pulled into the darkness of the portal, along with his bag of supplies and wand into the unknown.

AN: This chapter has been redone as of Christmas 2017. I am going to update the others to have better grammar, more plot, and increased detail over the next few months or so depending on how much time I have. Also note, Harry is having some off thoughts...

(1) Take my blood and these offerings, oh great one, and give me some of your power!