Harry panted as his body sank gratefully into the bed after having finished his latest training session. Almost a whole year had passed since Petunia had handed him his mother's trunk, and a lot had changed since then. Harry had read almost every book in the trunk, and a couple key pieces of information Harry had learned of since then had caused him to train hard every day since then.

One, Hogwarts. Harry had been made aware of the prestigious wizarding school through a book in the trunk titled Hogwarts a History, which helped him understand more of the society he was now part of.

Two, there were many followers of voldemort still at large out there, and Harry needed to be ready to defend himself if and when the time came where he had to defend himself from one of them or other sympathisers. Harry had read about the war in multiple old letters and copies of the Daily Prophet and managed to piece together what had happened, as well as how his parents had died, from what seemed to be the newest edition of the prophet which read Boy-who-lived successfully vanquishes dark lord! Potter family almost wiped out in attack! Harry held back tears as he remember the details of the article.

And three, because Harry was planning to take back his house, the Ancient and most Noble House of Potter, and to do that he would need to be powerful, even if he was only nine-turning-ten-soon years old.

His mum had also left loads of useful annotations on all her books, helping him navigate all of these subjects he was determined to be prepared for, which was especially useful as his mother only seemed to have mastery level books, and Harry hadn't even attended Hogwarts yet.

Harry had gotten into a routine of finishing whatever chores the Dursleys gave him as quickly as possible, as from his point of view, his time was way too precious to be wasted on menial labour.

As Harry had learned, all wands given to wizards under the age of 17, had something called the trace put on them, which allowed the british ministry of magic to track if these underage wizards used magic outside of Hogwarts, which was illegal due to the statute of secrecy, an agreement between all wizards and witches in the world to maintain all of wizarding society secret from the non magical world, who were also known as muggles.

What made his wand special was that it belonged to his mother, who had been of age when she died, was that it didn't have this trace, and Harry spent most of his days practising with the wand. Even with the extra annotations from Lily, there was a lot of basic information that Harry had to figure out through trial and error.

Luckily, all necessary school supplies were in the trunk, so Harry had a fairly easy time with most subjects that didn't include materials only found in school, such as herbology, but as he wasn't particularly interested in herbology, Harry was not very disappointed by this.

Harry was currently practicing his shield charm, one of the most important charms used in dueling. Harry had been practising to expand his magical core, as to be able to make his spells more effective and have them last longer. He was currently progressing fairly well, and he estimated he'd be able to take on any adult wizard unfamiliar with dueling at this point in time into his training.

What Harry did lack however, was transport.

Harry had at this point needed to go to Diagon Alley, to get wizarding money, more potions supplies, a subject which he took to like a moth to the flame, especially with the help of his mother's annotations, a wand holster, an owl for mail and to take orders for parcels, as well as more books to hopefully fill his gaps about not only himself, but many other aspects of wizarding culture which he was still unfamiliar with, especially on noble customs, if Harry was to regain his house's influence and wealth, at least that was what The Sacred 28: The history and origins of Britain's Ancient and Noble Houses had told him.

Also, he was really sick of the Dursleys, and he knew for a fact he could find accommodation in Diagon Alley, and get away from his tormentors forever.

Freedom, It's so close I can practically taste it. Harry thought dreamily.

This meant that Harry had to ask Vernon to drive him to Diagon Alley, something which Harry was not looking forward to. What if he starts questioning why I asked? What if he refuses?

It was a gamble and Harry knew it, but he had reached the limit of what he could practice and study, but Harry knew he was ready to finally leave his horrid relatives, and venture into the society he had been preparing to integrate into since he had been given his mum's trunk almost a year ago.

Harry packed up his things, his heart pumping. Well, here goes nothing. Harry thought to himself.

He walked down the stairs slowly, careful not to hit the trunk against anything. He gripped his wand tightly as he stood a bit away from Vernon, who was sat on the kitchen table with a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper.

'Hello Uncle Vernon' Harry said, pleased to hear more conviction in his voice than he felt at that moment.

'What do you want, boy?' Vernon replied gruffly while barely glancing up at Harry before doing a double take at seeing Lily's wand in Harry's hands.

'Now don't you point that at me boy!' Vernon growled threateningly, 'I've clothed and fed you for 9 whole years, and this is how you repay me?' His eyes narrowed dangerously as his body shifted.

'And you'll never have to see me again.' Harry said calmly as he watched his uncle's face grow more and more red with every word he said.

'I bet you don't even know how to use that thing, do you? This is all just a big bluff, one big game for you.' Vernon blustered pathetically as he slowly edged away.

Harry took a tentative step back, slowly put his trunk down, pulled out a piece of paper with the words The Leaky Cauldron written on them. He levitated it over to a gobsmacked Vernon with his wand.

'This is the address where I need you to drop me, I promise you you will never need to see me again.' Harry tried to say calmly, but he could feel his voice wavering.

Vernon just stared at him, he obviously hadn't expected Harry to be able to do magic, much less right in front of him.

Harry rolled his eyes. I'd appreciate an answer sometime this century.

He went to take his trunk in his hand again, but, Vernon finally seemed to come back to his senses.

'Now now, lets get that trunk into the boot, the sooner you and your… oddness are out of this house the better I say.' Vernon said with all his usual scorn, but Harry saw the look in his eyes, the look of fear.

Did I cause that? Harry asked nobody in particular. Harry didn't feel any remorse at having caused Vernon this discomfort. He's had it coming since he treated me like a servant and second class citizen.

Harry made sure to keep a tight grip on his wand as Vernon put his trunk in the boot of the car, and got into the back seat of the car.

The entire trip to the Leaky Cauldron was undertaken in silence. Uncle Vernon frequently glanced at Harry through the rearview mirror, just to see Harry staring stonily back at him.

It was almost dark when the car arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry promptly got out of the car, opened the boot, took his trunk and left towards the entrance to the pub without even so much as looking back at Vernon.

When Harry entered the establishment, he saw it was a rather large establishment, lit by a network of candles and Chandeliers found throughout the pub.

Harry made his way to the bar, where he saw a large portly man with salt and pepper hair serving drinks.

'Excuse me, would it be possible to book a room here?' Harry asked, in his best imitation of the shy face Dudley always made when he asked an adult for something.

'Sure you could, although it does cost 5 Galleons a night.' The Barman replied amicably.

'Oh, I was hoping to pay tomorrow? I just arrived and I haven't had time to visit Gringotts yet.' Harry said. In truth, it was a complete gamble, as Harry only assumed that he'd have money from House Potter being an ancient and noble house. They'd have left some money for him, right?

Suddenly Harry felt a chill run down his spine. What if the Bartender didn't believe him? Where would he go?

What am I doing? I didn't think any of this through. He admonished himself.

The bartender stared at him for what felt like hours, before finally speaking again.

'Well we can't leave a young man like yourself to brave the elements on your own, can we? Don't worry about tonight, Gringotts will surely already be closed, what's your name little one? My names Tom.' The barman said amicably while guiding Harry up the stairs.

'My name is Harry Potter.' Harry said.

Harry stopped walking when he saw that Tom had stopped dead in his tracks, looking straight at Harry's forehead.

What's he looking at? Harry wondered to himself.

'The scar, I thought… I thought it was a coincidence.' Tom whispered in awe.

So that's what he's looking at. Harry mentally slapped himself in the face, he hadn't realised that his scar would be such a giveaway.

Hindsight's 20/20 I guess. Harry mused to himself following Tom to one of the rooms in the Leaky Cauldron, after the bartender had overcome his shock. He got settled in and Tom bid him good night as he got ready for bed and prepared his things for the next morning.

The next morning Harry prepared himself for his first day in Diagon Alley. He still wore his ratty hand-me-downs from Dudley. I need to get money before I can get started with my to-do list. Harry reminded himself excitedly. He was free, finally free! No more Vernon, Dudley, or Petunia. But Petunia was the one who made this all possible. A small voice in his head reminded himself. Harry frowned as he contemplated this, before he felt his heart turn to ice. It's the least she could have done after what I had to go through with them. He reassured himself coldly.

Harry left his room and said bye to Tom the barman before making his way through the enchanted wall he had read about in A History of Wizarding Britain.

Harry forgot to breathe.

He gazed in wonder at the throngs of wizards making their way up and down the crowded street. On either side were shops of every variety that Harry could think of.

Harry shook his head. I have all the time in the world to wander up and down the street, I have a lot to get through today.

Harry made his way down the street, struggling to keep himself unseen. Don't want another Tom incident. He told himself.

Soon Harry saw the large golden sign he been searching for. Gringotts. Hopefully my parents were prudent with their money, maybe I can even get some more information on them there.

Harry took a deep breath. Remember what you read, goblins respect power and money, maintain eye contact, you are the heir of the Most Ancient and Noble house of Potter, they have to listen you. Harry gulped. At least I hope they do.

Harry walked through the two massive iron wrought doors of Gringotts bank and stood still for a second at the entrance, taking in the environment around him.

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

All around him were desks with what he assumed were goblins, as he suddenly realised had never seen one in real life, with wizards bustling importantly all throughout the lobby, and Harry felt overwhelmed.

Where do I even begin?

Harry resolved to go up to an unoccupied desk.

'Hello Mr...' Harry squinted as he read the name on the nametag the goblin wore. 'Mr Griphook.'

'I was hoping to withdraw a rather large amount of Galleons for the purchase of equipment.' Harry continued smartly, praying that his nervousness didn't reflect in his speech.

The goblin stared at him for what felt like an eternity before responding.

'Name?' He asked grumpily, while opening a big book.

'Harry Potter.' Harry replied.

The goblin froze. He then slowly raised his head as his eyes seemed to bore straight into his forehead. Do you need directions? Harry thought snarkily.

'Right, well do you have your key?' The goblin continued, much more flustered now.

Harry furrowed his brow. 'I never received a key.'

The goblin raised his eyebrows. 'You haven't been given the key to your vault?'

'Honestly Mr Griphook I don't actually know if my parents left me anything.' Harry responded abashedly.

This time Griphook's mouth hung open in surprise. 'You mean you haven't been informed of your will?'

'My parents had a will?' Harry asked with wide eyes. This was turning out better than he could imagine.

The goblin just stared at him for a second, before snapping out of his reverie. 'Er-YES, yes' The goblin responded hurriedly before returning his attention to the massive book on his desk.

Having regained his composure, the goblin continued as if nothing had happened. 'Well it seems here that the will says that your parents left all of their monetary assets and worldly possessions to you, their only successor, as well as-' Griphook trailed off into intelligible mutters as he stared at the weathered book in front of him.

'What is it?' Harry enquired curiously.

'Well,' The goblin started slowly, 'It seems here that this requires the attention of someone more senior than myself.'

Griphook stood up. 'If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment, I will find a colleague of mine who will be able to assist you in this matter.' Griphook hurriedly got out of his seat and scurried away through a door behind him.

Harry waited patiently for a couple of minutes until a larger goblin with wispy white hair bustled over.

'Mr Potter, my name is Ripmaul, if you wouldn't mind following me, the information we will be discussing is of the utmost importance.' The Goblin didn't wait for an answer as he made his way back to the door he had exited from.

Harry quickly followed him as he was brought into a large corridor lined with office cubicles. Harry followed Ripmaul into a large office at the end of the hallway.

Ripmaul sat down in a chair behind a desk as he motioned for Harry to sit on a chair on the opposite of the desk.

'Please, sit,' He offered calmly. 'It seems we have much to discuss.'

Harry furrowed his brow. 'I'm sorry to cause any trouble Mr Ripmaul, I only came to withdraw some funds from my parents account -I assume they have sufficient funds- I wasn't aware my parents had written a will.' He explained abashedly while scratching the back of his head.

'Well if we can confirm your identity then according to your will you will never have to work a day in your life.' Ripmaul replied will pulling out a strange metallic cylindrical contraption out of one of the drawers in his desk.

'If you could please insert a finger into the tube it will extract a drop of your blood to confirm your identity.' Ripmaul continued, handing over the contraption to Harry.

Harry entered a finger into the finger, and felt the now-familiar feeling of magic as harry felt a small prick on the fingertip.

'If you could hand that back to me Mr Potter I can confirm your identity.' Ripmaul said.

Harry handed over the cylinder to Ripmaul, who left the office.

Harry waited in silence. Never have to work a day in my life, huh? That doesn't sound too bad. Harry mused to himself. But why do I get the feeling that this doesn't have to do with inheriting my parents wealth? Harry pushed down the feeling of foreboding as he started to grow weary of these goblins. There's something they aren't telling me.

Some time later, Ripmaul returned holding a small brown wooden box in his hands.

'Well Mr Potter, thank you for your patience, as well as for allowing Gringotts to confirm your identity.' Ripmaul said diplomatically, putting the box down on the desk.

'No problem.' Harry replied uneasily.

'Right, now that your identity has been confirmed, we can begin with the contents of your parents will, and your inheritance.' Ripmaul began.

'As Griphook no doubt already informed you, you inherit all of your parents wealth and material possessions, as well as the position as head of house, as the only living individual of direct Potter descent,' Ripmaul continued.

'What he was not authorised to tell you however before your identity could be confirmed was that you also inherit the position as head of house of the most Ancient and Noble house of Black.' Ripmaul said.

Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. House Black? That's one of the most powerful houses in wizarding Britain! Harry vaguely remembered in shock.

Harry quickly regained his composure. 'How?' He asked incredulously.

Ripmaul narrowed his eyes at the parchment he was reading. 'It seems your godfather, Sirius Black, left you his inheritance as well, as quote, "my only son," I can only assume that as his godson he considers you his offspring.' Ripmaul replied.

Harry stared at Ripmaul. 'How… So I just claim both houses?' Harry asked sceptically.

Ripmaul looked at him with a cool appraisal. 'Not exactly.' Ripmaul stood up and opened the small wooden box, taking out two ornate rings. He held them out to Harry. 'These are your house rings.' Ripmaul explained. 'They are imbued with ancient house magic, which grant the heads of houses the authority and respect they wield, inside and out of the Wizengamot.' One of them was a thin silver band with a black gemstone in the centre, while the other was a similarly thin gold band with a green gemstone in the centre.

'As two separate ancient and noble houses cannot be ruled by the same individual, these houses must be fused.' Ripmaul looked at Harry seriously.

Seems like a lot of responsibility. Harry thought to himself. Welp, here goes for nothing.

'And if I don't accept?' Harry enquired cooly.

'Then House Black and it's influence and wealth become the inheritance of one Draco Malfoy, Son of Lucius Malfoy, a former death eater, the followers of Voldemort, the man who killed your parents.' Ripmaul replied nonchalantly.

Harry gulped.

'An acceptable reaction I assure you.' Ripmaul said dryly. 'You are aware of how a house fusion ceremony works?'

'Not exactly.'

'That's okay, not many do, it's not something that comes up daily.'

If I may, Mr Ripmaul, are there any other examples of fused houses?' Harry asked apprehensively. Better I know what I'm getting myself into.

'There are many examples, such as house Malfoy, a fusion between the spanish house of Mal, and the southern french house of Fois. After the 30 years war, the house migrated to England, and had the name anglified from Malfois to Malfoy.'

'Alright then, let's get this over with.' Harry decided resignedly.

Ripmaul got out of his chair, put the rings back in the wooden box and made his way to the door. 'In that case Mr Potter, follow me, there is one other item we need for the ceremony.' He held the door open for Harry before making his way briskly down the hall, Harry briefly jogging to catch up to him.

They entered a room with a cauldron in it, filled with what seemed to be a boiling hot golden mixture.

'You just happen to happen a ritualistic room set up?' Harry asked jokingly.

'It was prepared the moment I was alerted of the unusual contents of your will.' Ripmaul replied quickly. 'We aren't the premium bank in wizarding Britain for nothing you know.'

Ripmaul took the two rings, and pulled an ornate silver dagger out of it's sheath at his hip. He turned his attention back to Harry. 'I am afraid that I require a drop of your blood for the ritual.' He handed over the dagger to Harry. 'Be sure to have the drop of blood fall into the cauldron.' He advised.

Ripmaul then dropped the two rings into the mixture. The mixture changed colours before settling into a dark blue.

Harry winced as he nicked his fingertip and coaxed a drop of his blood into the swirling now blue mixture.

The mixture changed into multiple different hues before settling into a glowing light green.

Harry glanced worriedly at Ripmaul.

'Good, magic has accepted your petition as heir to both houses as well as your wish to fuse them.' Ripmaul confirmed at Harry's worried look.

The liquid slowly evaporated until only a singular ring was left at the bottom of the cauldron.

Harry stepped forward and leaned in to pick up the ring.

As he touched it, he felt a warm sensation travel up his arm and through his body, much like when he had first held his mother's wand. He set his face into a determined grimace. Mum, dad, this is for both of you, I promise I will return our house to its former glory. He vowed to himself as he put on the ring on his left ring finger, flexing his hand as he did so.

'I have the honour of welcoming you, Lord Potter-Black, into the wizarding world.' Ripmaul intoned reverently.

'So I'm just a lord now automatically?' Harry questioned skeptically. Huh. That was a lot easier and faster than I expected.

'Nobody truly understands how family ring magic works.' Ripmaul began. 'But it is confirmed that it is different for different houses, and different depending on the person wearing it.' He continued. 'But nobody really knows for sure, for all our knowledge magic is still largely a mystery to all magic races.'

Ripmaul waited a second for Harry to take this in, before pressing forward. 'Now that you are officially a Lord, there are two things that will happen.' Ripmaul looked at Harry seriously, who suddenly felt the need to stand straighter. 'The first, will be an owl directed to your residence, with a hearing before the Wizengamot to have your seat there confirmed as a newly formed house.' Harry nodded in understanding, I've read about this, I've already been chosen, so there isn't much the Wizengamot can do about it either way.

'The second,' Ripmaul continued, 'Is a meeting with your guardian, to inform them of your ascendance.'

Harry froze. They are going to tell the Dursleys?

His eyes must have conveyed the horror he felt, as Ripmaul simply chuckled. 'Not your muggle guardians, Lord potter-Black, your magical guardian that your parents designated, the one who then decided to have you placed with your muggle relatives.' Ripmaul paused for what Harry could only assume was dramatic effect.

'One Albus Dumbledore.'

Albus Dumbledore had been having a rather pleasant and uneventful day.

Had been.

Dumbledore was rudely interrupted from his lovely nap by a tawny owl, which unceremoniously dropped a letter into his lap before flying out of the open window on the opposite side of his office.

Dumbledore quickly snatched the letter from where it fell before quickly opening it. I wasn't expecting any mail, perhaps Minerva is protesting my decision to leave Nicholas Flammel's stone in the 3rd floor again. A slight headache formed in Dumbledore's forehead. Minerva had been quite staunch in her opposition of guarding one of Nicholas Flammel's stones of immortality in the castle. It does not matter, she does not understand, it is for the greater good. Dumbledore reminded himself for the thousandth time while reading the letter. It made his blood freeze.

To Lord Dumbledore

Dumbledore frowned. The use of Dumbledore's house title was already a bad sign.

As the guardian of the now Lord Potter-Black, formerly Mr Potter, Gringotts bank invites Lord Potter-Black's magical guardian to be informed of Mr Potter's ascendance to head of house.

Regards,

Ripmaul

Chief Treasurer,

Gringotts,

London Branch,

Diagon Alley

Albus simply stared at the message.

Lord Potter-Black, Formerly Mr Potter? Lily and James's son? Dumbledore remembered Harry as if it was yesterday. He had left the boy at Lily's sister's doorstep, how had he claimed, and consequently fused house Potter and Black, two of the wealthiest and most influential noble houses in wizarding britain?

Actually, scratch that, when did Harry even find out he was a wizard?

It must have been Petunia. Dumbledore mused to himself. Vernon hates magic with every fiber of his being, it's why I left him there in the first place. Truthfully Dumbledore did not hate the boy, but he did not wish for him to know the truth about his heritage before he knew the boy was fully under his sway.

Either way this is a politely worded summons, I should make my way there as quickly as possible. Dumbledore reminded himself, before standing up and apparating out of his office, the only evidence of him having been there the discarded letter on his desk.

My dear boy, what have you gotten yourself into?

AN:

So, It was a bit of a struggle to finish this chapter, I got sick, so I was only able to finish the chapter today.

As for future updates, Minimum one update weekly, your average chapter will be from 3000 to 5000 words long, although depending on how much free time and how little of a life I currently have, I may update more than once per week.

Now, for the plot, as I'm sure many fo you are wondering, Harry is an absolute GENIUS in this fic, and takes after his mother way more than his father. As for the house thing, it's a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine, I love mediaeval and modern politics, so this is my way of incorporating it into the story, as well as giving Harry a badass surname.

For those of you who think harry being able to cast spells and completing mastery level magic books, let me put this into context in case I didn't make it clear enough in the chapter, but Harry has literally nothing to do for most of the day with the Dursleys apart from chores, and it's pretty easy for him to finish those quickly with magic, as his mom's wand doesn't have the trace on it, so Harry's spending like six to seven hours every day for months and months just studying and practising magic, not to mention as I mentioned before that this iteration of Harry is much, much smarter than regular canon Harry, as well as fiercely independent, which will be a pretty common theme for practically all of the fic.

That's pretty much it for me, so yeah HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERY WOOO I'll see you guys next update, probably sometime at the end of this week.

Murph signing out.