A soft, boney, finger traced the side of a crib. In it were toys of all sorts. Soft bunnies and cows, an elephant, and even a toy broom. The room was colourful, but the being's demeanour seemed to dampen the atmosphere.

"Your child will be beautiful, Lily of the Valley." A ghostly-looking man said. His fingers slowly squeezed the front of the crib, splintering the wood.

"Who are you? Get out of my house!" Lily yelled, her red hair shining and frayed. It flew behind her as if the wind was pushing it back. Her green eyes, which watched the being carefully, shone with magic.

"I am your family's saviour," He gestured to the woman's stomach. "He will know this too, in time. Listen to me carefully, if you want to save your child's life."

Harry woke with a start, his wand clenched tightly in his hand. This was the seventh time this week he had had that dream, and it was Tuesday. Every time he fell asleep, the dream replayed over and over again. He knew the woman with fiery red hair and determined eyes was his mother, Lily. Who he didn't know was the creature that stared at her, lined in a dementor's cloak and wispy hair that looked like the mane of a unicorn. And at Privet Drive, one couldn't simply go and check the library.

Harry stood up, his knees sore and battered from yesterday's work. And the day before that. And this whole summer. The pain never left.

Rubbing lightly at his scar, Harry walked over to Hedwig's cage. The snowy owl hadn't been seen in a few days, and Harry had no clue when she would return. He looked at the mirror behind it. Next to it? and stared. His skin was lighter than normal, almost a snowy pale. Which didn't make sense, regarding how much time he had spent outside this summer. Removing his shirt, he noticed his whole upper body had changed. Gone were the soft chest hairs he had been growing, but now white skin. Harry knew his father had been Tongan-Romanian, which explained his normal darker complexion and black hair. However, now it seems as if his skin matched his mothers completely. Even his hair was different, falling in neater sections than his normally unruly bird's nest.

"You better be up!" He heard from behind the door. Before he could say anything, it was thrown open. Harry stared at his aunt, her face morphing from rage to shock. Her gaze travelled from his eyes, to what Harry assumed was his nose, to his chest.

"You." Harry stared at her unimpressed.

"Me, what, Aunt Petunia? I was just getting dressed."

"You bloody freak!" She roared. Normally, Uncle Vernon or his cousin Dudley was the one to raise their voice like this, not his aunt. It was, truthfully, a little frightening. The shouting didn't stop.

"You look just like them, and you dare to keep living in my home? I could take it while you looked like Potter, but now- we told Dumbledore that this would happen, but he never believed us! Pack your things and leave FREAK!" Aunt Petunia threw the towel she held in her hands at Harry and slammed the door shut.

"Bloody hell." Harry said to himself, before mentally shrugging. If Petunia was going to let him leave, then he was going to take it. Throwing everything he had ever gotten out of his trunk back in, he stared around his room.

Well, it wasn't his room. It was always going to be Dudley's second bedroom. Thundering footsteps sounded the said teenagers' entrance.

"Mom said she's finally kicking you out. Going to your boyfriends' house, you poof?" Harry rolled his eyes, but inwardly his heart ached. If only. There were a lot of "if only"s when it came to Cedric. When it came to the whole goblet situation. "Why do you look so weird?" Dudley asked, a quizzical look on his whale of a face.

"Shove off, Dudley. I'm just trying to leave before my teachers come after me. Or the death eaters. Wouldn't that be a sight? You tied up by your ankles while Lucius Malfoy cursed you." Harry knew Dudley had no clue who the man was, but the thought offered Harry a sort of comfort. "Anyways, tell Petunia she'll have to take me, the knight bus doesn't work during the day." Dudley looked torn between getting out of Harry's presence and beating him to a pulp.

"You'll finally learn to stop messing with us, freak!" Dudley laughed, and went back down, each step shaking the stairwell.

Focusing on his magic, Harry pointed his first two fingers at his trunk. He had gotten better at using his hands to do magic instead of his wand, but it was still hard. He could manage a Lumos and Accio, as well as will himself warmer, but he had only managed to shrink and unshrink his trunk once. Harry pushed his two fingers together until the trunk was the size of his palm, and slipped it into his pocket, along with his money pouch. Giving himself a silent cheer of triumph, he walked down the steps.

"Hurry it up, boy! We'll be- what the bloody hell." Vernon's angry yells quickly quieted as Harry descended. Just as Petunia's eyes had looked him over, Vernons did too.

"Just as I said, Vernon." Petunia hissed, her white bag clutched in her hands. She kissed Vernon and Dudley on their cheeks and glared at Harry. "Come on, boy. We're getting you out of here." When he didn't follow her automatically, Petunia slapped him on the side of the head.

Now that he thought about it, he was taller than he originally thought. Maybe magical growth spurts made you look more like your maternal side? Harry didn't have a clue.

The ride to, well, wherever they were going, was done in silence. Sometimes, Aunt Petunia would glance at him and glare before muttering to herself, but that wasn't often. When Harry looked out of his window, though, he knew exactly where they were going.

"You know the way to the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked in his surprise.

"Of course, I do, boy." She said, looking at him through the rearview. "Brought my idiotic sister here. Like a curse, I tell you." Harry's fist clenched. The car suddenly jerked to a stop.

"Get out, now, you freak. You're no longer our responsibility. Don't ever come back to my home again." When Harry stepped out of the car and closed his door, his aunt drove off.

Sighing, Harry went inside the hidden building, making sure no muggles were watching him go in. No more secrecy breaks.

The Leaky Cauldron hadn't changed a bit, Harry noticed. Same dull curtains, grimy floor, and sticky sickly drunks all over the place.

"Ah hello, who might you- oh! Mr Potter! What can I help you with?"

"Hullo, Tom. I was wondering, do you have a room here? I'll need to stay for a few weeks. At least until Hogwarts starts." Tom nodded.

"Ah of course, of course." The old man began adding some numbers on a small pad. Harry looked him over, noticing his hands were wrinkled and toughed over. Oh, and his knuckles were bleeding. "Alright lad, that should be 307 Galleons, 16 Sickles, and 28 Knuts. Harry paled and quickly checked his pockets. 17 Galleons and 2 Knuts.

"Sir, is there an uh, cheaper option? Anywhere?" Harry showed Tom his pouch, and Tom clicked his tongue.

"Can you cook, Mr Potter? Or clean?" Harry nodded his head.

"Both, sir. My aunt and uncle made sure I could survive on my own." Tom nodded appreciatively and tossed him a pair of keys.

"Then that's what you'll do. Every day except Sundays, you'll work for me. From five am to six pm. That's when we start breakfast and dinner. Lunch is served between one and two. You may be Harry Potter but don't expect to laze about. You start tomorrow and don't forget your key. Room 109." Harry smiled and shook hands with the old man before looking for his room. It took two long hallways and a flight of stairs (that Harry realised he could have taken in the beginning, bugger) before he got there. Once in, he noticed the room wasn't too bad. It seemed like a luxury to him. A large bed with soft white pillows resting on it. There were grey wood posts on every corner, some having cute hearts with names in them or letters like R+H. In the corner stood a small library with a multitude of books. Some were even stacked on top of the two shelves. There was a small closet, which Harry would likely put to use, and another door that led to the bathroom. All of these nice decorations made Harry's head spin.

Putting his trunk in the middle of the room, Harry focused on it once more. It took less time, this time, for his trunk to go back to its original size, and Harry quickly pushed it up against his bed. Noticing the bunched-up carpet, Harry vowed to fix it later. First things first, a shower.

The on-suite bathroom was beautiful. Sure, the dormitory bathrooms were great, but he had never had his own bathroom before. It had sinks that were made of a white marble material which was covered in black and grey spots. The cabinets are the same wood as the bedposts. A large shower and bath are separate from each other. But close enough Harry could switch from one to the other without covering the floor in water. There were a couple of hair and body washes on the wall, and Harry even noticed a conditioner. He had never used one before, but he knew his aunt had a bunch of them.

Rather quickly, Harry was washed and ready to go through the alley. First stop, Gringotts. He may not have a lot of money, but he needed some clothes. It would do him no good walking around in his muggle clothing. However, Harry supposed his muggle jeans and shirt would work for today.

After saying goodbye to Tom, and assuring him that he knew of his duties, Harry headed out to Gringotts. It took Harry a while to get there, seeing as it was in the middle of Diagon Alley, but he got there alive. Taking in the beautiful marble scenery around him, Harry followed an older man up to the front. He saw that the man was giving him a key, and he was soon led somewhere in the back. He overheard something about 'I'm in her will', and decided he shouldn't eavesdrop anymore.

"Ahem." Harry looked up at the new bank teller and smiled.

"Oh, uh, hello sir! I'd like to remove some money from my account."

"Key." Harry blushed softly.

"Oh, I don't have a key. See, the man that brought me here my first year, Hagrid, he had my key and he never gave it to me.." Harry kind of trailed off. The goblin teller glared and bared his teeth, before hopping off his seat.

"Follow me then, and we'll see if you have an account with us." Harry followed. quite lamely in his opinion. Some of the other goblins seemed to stare at him, their (beady) eyes following him. Soon, they were in a new office, this one covered in lush cushions and chairs, with a long set of cabinets filled with books and other trinkets.

"Prick your finger." The goblin handed the boy a short, shiny needle. "And add a few drops of blood into this bowl." He pushed the mahogany bowl forward. Harry did so and quickly cleaned off the needle with his shirt. The goblin stared at him appraisingly.

"So, Mr... Potter, is it? Harrison Silas Potter. You have both a lord vault and two heir vaults. One from your mother and one from your father. Oh, Mr Potter, you should look at this."

Harrison Silas Potter

Age 14

Mother: Lily Elise Evans

Father: Unlisted

Blood Adoption: James Fleamont Potter

Overseen by: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Housing Assets:

Potter Manor in Limavady, Ireland

Evans Household in Cokeworth, England

Potter-Evans Household in Godric's Hollow, England

Financial Assets:

Potter Lord Vault

103,993,918 Galleons

24,973 Sickles

38,702 Knuts

Potter Grimoire

Other Materials on Page Two

Potter Heir Vault

1,206,400 Galleons

(16,000 added tri-yearly)

Evans Heir Vault

3,498 Pounds

Two letters, addressed to Heir Harrison Silas Potter

"What is all of this? And I thought my middle name was James. Why do I have so much money? Is James not my dad?" Harry asked all at once, questions rolling off his tongue quicker than he could stop them.

"Well, Heir Potter, it seems that you had no clue you were blood adopted." The goblin raised his hand to stop Harry from speaking. "Before you ask questions, let me tell you what I know. My name is Grungewhipper. Now, onto your adoption. The young Lord Potter was likely infertile. This happens among the pureblood circles, due to their very specific pool of mates."

"You mean their inbreeding?" Harry asked. Grungewhipper nodded.

"Not the word I would use for it, but essentially yes. So, your mother likely got artificially inseminated. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, one of Aunt Petunia's friends had that, since her husband couldn't give her babies."

"That is the most obvious course of action, and since the name appears as unlisted, either your sperm donor doesn't know you exist, or he's dead. Though, it was probably a wizard. Your magical signature is exceptionally strong. Even as a goblin, I can feel it." Harry nodded, quickly getting the gist of things, and putting away what he needed to think about later. His dad just needed a little help bringing him into the world. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Alright, are you able to give me a new key then? I need to get some money from my vault to go shopping." Harry stated.

Soon, Harry had a pouch filled with money and anti-theft charms on it and was ready to go shopping. Slipping his key around his neck, (it came with a chain, how cool!) Harry began his shopping spree. Starting with robes.

Some were colourful, soft purples and bright greens, dark navy's and stunning ivory's, while most were black or light brown. His trousers were next, from a mix of khaki tan to pitch black dragonhide (slightly expensive, but worth it for quidditch this year, Harry reassured himself). Shirts in every colour of the rainbow and shape to boot.

Next were his books. He didn't have his list yet, but he got each and every book he fancied. Two on quidditch, a few more on Charms and Transfiguration, one on Herbology, and even a big old dusty Potion one. Soon, the sun was setting and he needed to get back to his room.

Once Harry was in and had said his hellos to the crowd, he got to work hanging everything up. He had the space for it, so why not? And his books, those had to be close by. Two went by his bed, "Britain's Most Complex Potions" and "Charms to Charm Anyone!" went beside his bed, while the rest went to the plump chair next to the bookshelves. Settling down in bed, as it was already eight, Harry thought he could sleep easy that night.

Thought. He, in fact, slept horribly. It wasn't the bed or the atmosphere, but the dreams. Quickly alternating from his Mum talking to that horrid figure, to Cedric laying dead in front of him. When he woke, he couldn't decide which was worth it. Checking the hanging Tempus spell on the wall, Harry noticed it was already 4:30. The skies outside were dark, and the sun was barely starting to rise. Harry quickly got dressed, in tan trousers and a white shirt, and hurried downstairs to meet Tom.

Days blurred together at the Leaky Cauldron. Every morning, awoken by nightmares, working and meeting new people during the day, and then falling asleep with his books. And soon, Harry realised, it was two days before his birthday.

That day had already been rough, but Harry had enjoyed it. The scrubbing of floors, the cleaning of pots and pans, dicing and frying and baking. He'd earn his keep here for a while if he didn't have to go back to Hogwarts. Harry really wasn't missing Hogwarts. No letters from his friends and everything he wrote came back unopened, it was as if they didn't care anymore. He had even tried muggle calling Hermione but to no avail. Harry scrubbed the floor harder at the thought. After last year, how dare they put him through this much hurt!

"Potter, what are you doing here?"

Harry looked up and froze.