Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot. The original concepts belong to JKR and Warner Brothers. Any concepts brought from other fictions are either coincidental or will be used in their own way, and no plagiarism is meant. Cover Image found on Harry Potter amino, which I took from google. Imaging rights belong to them and the creator.

A/n: (2/24/24) This chapter has underwent several revisions in the past month. Mostly on his thoughts on the past and over Dumbledore.

The original A/n talked about Harry being overpowered, which I have removed. I won't say he will be overpowered, nor will I say he won't be. The term is rather objective to the person and plot. And no, this won't necessarily be a bashing fiction, nor will Dumbledore be secretly evil. It will be an alternate universe, so once it's said and done, it won't be coming to the same ending. Some characters that died will get to live and some that live, will die.

Chapter 1: Harry meets Death

Final Battle of Hogwarts

(Parts taken from the Deathly Hallows)

"Harry Potter" Voldemort called out, "The Boy who Lived"

Harry stood still with his shoulders square, knowing what was coming, but refusing to be a coward, refusing to turn away from the man that would end his life. He briefly wondered what the other's would do, how things would end for everyone else. He even wondered if this was truly the end, but it didn't matter, nothing did. He took a breath, watching as red eyes met his, and two words left the inhuman man's mouth.

"Avada Kedavra." the man hissed out.

Sickly green light arced across the forest, it even seemed to move slower than normal. Was it just adrenaline, or the anticipation of what was to come? Everyone watched with awe, the curse coloring their faces as it passed them. Hagrid screamed, but nothing came out as he was still silenced. Bellatrix watched with her sickening smile, the same she wore in the Auditorium after she killed Sirius. If there was one wish Harry had, it would be to end her life before he died.

It didn't matter though, as only seconds later, Harry felt the energy arc across his skin, and a feeling of falling, before everything went black.

{Break}

Harry shouted as light blinded him. The sudden change from green to black to white was a bit too much for his eyes, as he covered them. He had to slowly tease his eyes, allowing small but increasing amounts of light through, before he was able to see properly. Thankfully, it only took a few seconds, but it was long enough to notice several things. The first being that he was laying on the ground…

The second was that he was naked.

Suddenly terrified of someone seeing him in such a manner, he wished he was still clothed, and almost like the universe had read his mind, they appeared, though far nicer than what he had been used to. These were a nicer button down gray shirt, and tighter fitting trousers, with new shoes. Though that confused him, he realized that he was in fact dead, and things might be different here.

"About time." A voice grumbled, "You are slow for someone who has fought a war, Mister Potter."

Harry was instantly alert, and looking around did him no good. It looked to be Kings Cross, Platform 9 ¾ to be exact, but other than a bench with a baby that looked like Voldemort in the Graveyard, there was nothing around him.

A chuckle rang out, echoing slightly, "You cannot see me because I have not allowed you to, Mr. Potter." A figure appeared suddenly, wrapped in black cloaking, with purple orbs glowing beneath his hood. There was an oppressive weight that suddenly appeared with the being, making it harder to breathe. Harry had only felt something similar to this before, when Dumbledore and Voldemort dueled.

It was a weight of magical power, and whoever was in front of him, made the two look like ants in comparison.

"You know, just because I am an immortal deity, does not mean I am ok with being stared at in such a manner." The voice radiated power with an underlying hint of teasing humor.

"Sorry… b-but, who are you?" Harry had no idea what was going on.

"Well, I have several names, each varies depending on religion or what my job was for them, but that seems quite irrelevant for you, Mister Potter. I am Death." the entity responded. Suddenly he laughed at the poor boy whose mind just failed him.

"Figures… can't even die normally can I?" Harry muttered, "Well, I am dead. Can I please see my family now?"

Death eyed him for a moment before speaking, clearly resisting the urge to laugh at what Harry figured was him, the insignificant human, "Well, you are not dead, you cannot die normally, and you cannot see your family. There is still a prophecy to fulfill after all."

"Hm, you have claimed my artifacts. The first to do such a thing. No, Mister Potter, you are not my master, nor could anyone be." Death said, as the thought crossed Harry's mind. "Hm. I believe you will be my champion. With a little work, you have the potential to be more than any alive. You simply need to educate yourself on what has happened. When you return in a moment, you will be without the soul-shard. It will allow you to think clearly, and get rid of the leech slowing you, physically, mentally, and psychologically. I will also remove that pesky binding of yours, allowing you access to all of your magic. I would suggest starting at Gringotts once you have reevaluated your past."

The being stood, and before Harry could speak, to ask the hundred questions that had come to mind, it nodded. "Well, we are out of time for now. We will speak again soon. Good luck!"

The entire area dimmed, before Harry felt his knees give out, and then a falling sensation. Suddenly, everything came to a stop as he hit something soft causing him to reflexively flinch. His vision was blurry, far worse than normal. He reached around looking for his glasses, before realizing they were already on. He reached up and removed them, and rubbed his eyes. Before his glasses were back on, he realized he could see perfectly fine. He looked around, taking in his surroundings.

He was in his bedroom in Privet Drive, though what was worse was that he could see his assignments on his bed, the same ones from before third year that he did while his relatives slept. Hedwig was perched on the window sill with a package tied to her leg, with two other owls each with their own burdens. One was from the school, the other was Errol, the Weasley owl. Harry frowned, before realizing it must be his thirteenth birthday.

But how? He was just seventeen fighting a war. Had he traveled back in time? If that was the case, then he had so many opportunities. He felt the tears appear at realizing Sirius was alive, that Remus and Tonks, Moody, Cedric, and Fred were all alive. Even others, like Amelia Bones, were still here. If he had really gotten a second chance, he had an opportunity to save them.

It was an overwhelming thought, and it took Harry the better part of thirty minutes to calm down enough to actually unburden the owls of their items. He quickly looked through them all, and noted that everything was the same. Harry quickly flicked through Ron's letter, before sitting down at his desk with a piece of paper. He then remembered that perhaps none of this should be written down, before sitting back and thinking.

'First', Harry thought, 'is getting to Diagon Alley sooner than last time.' He knew he needed to go to Gringotts, and see what all he had. Then there was buying books, and maybe a trip down Knockturn Alley for some books on Occlumency so he could actually learn the art. That was another major priority if for no other reason to keep Voldemort from discovering the future.

Now, he just had to figure out a good way of getting there. If he remembered right, today Vernon would tell him of Marge's arrival. Maybe he could use that as a method of escape.

Harry sighed, and glanced over what had been the next few years. It was a horrifying revelation that he probably mucked things up pretty badly. Like, truly mucked it up. He should have studied more, certainly on magical combat, spells for fighting, and his broader magical knowledge. Runes and Warding would have been useful too, as would some things about healing. While Dumbledore's Army was certainly a step in the right direction, it wasn't nearly enough for him to win.

Meanwhile, he had conflicting thoughts about Dumbledore. On one hand, the man had given him the knowledge to hunt down the Horcruxes and destroy Voldemort, but on the other hand, he couldn't deny that the headmaster's intent was to see him die by Voldemort's hand once more. That's not to forget his years of schools where he nearly died every year, excluding fourth year where he nearly died several times. Harry couldn't discount the fact the man had no real care for his safety even within the school, treating him a bit like a puppet while putting him through trials.

Certainly the forbidden corridors and the Triwizard Tournament were both parts where Dumbledore could have protected the students better. Even an age line set high enough to prevent even young adults from passing it would have protected the stone better, and surely Dumbledore could have challenged his entry into the tournament with all of his powers and positions?

His final thoughts were on Voldemort. Destroying his anchors wouldn't be hard. He knew where they all were, bar Nagini, but she would be in the graveyard. Killing the Dark Lord would be the hardest thing, for sure. Harry knew the man had taken on Dumbledore repeatedly, and while he had no clue if the headmaster had ever put in his maximum effort to actually defeat the man, Voldemort was certainly capable of rivaling Dumbledore. His Death Eaters, too, needed taken care of. They killed too many, including children, and he didn't truly think they deserved to live again, especially since Voldemort had proven that Azkaban wasn't something that was hard to break into.

'I will not waste this chance. I will better myself, and do what I must to save those who didn't make it before. Next time I end up in a fight with the likes of a LeStrange or Dolohov, if they aim to maim or kill, then so will I. Innocent people and children aren't worth their lives.'

It was with those thoughts that Harry fell asleep, his mind calming and allowing him a night without nightmares or visions of torture and death.

July 31st, 1993

Dursley Residence

Harry awoke to a knocking on the door. Unfortunately, due to having been on the run and always fighting for his life, he immediately grabbed his wand, and aimed it at the door. After it dawned on him of what had happened, he realized his relatives hadn't entered his room, or else there would have been hell to pay. Sighing, Harry stood and grabbed some of his 'clothes', before getting dressed and heading down stairs to cook.

Once they had all stuffed themselves appropriately, Vernon spoke, "Boy, sit down. We need to have a talk." Harry nodded, faking his old obedience.

"Good. Now, Marge is coming to visit us starting tomorrow for a week. We plan on telling her that you attend St. Brutus' School for Unruly Children, and that they hit you with a paddle when you misbehave. I want you to stick to that story, do you understand me?" Vernon said, an edge to his voice.

Harry nodded, having prepared his idea last night, "Uncle Vernon, if I may suggest something?" His pudgy eyes narrowed, but he only nodded, so Harry continued, "Well, you see, I have a bit of my kind's money left, and as I am sure neither of us want me here for this visit, how about something else."

"Continue." Vernon growled out. Petunia and Dudley watched with bated breath as Harry continued with his idea.

"Well, instead, you could tell Aunt Marge that I was an especially difficult case, and I had to be there for a few weeks this summer, and that I won't return until the week before classes begin again. I will instead stay somewhere in our world, keeping my nose clean, and all I ask for is this slip signed. While, because I won't be here, I won't have any money left to buy things in the village, it still allows me out from the school." Harry explained everything carefully, watching every word and his tone the whole time. At this time before, his uncle was prone to anger fueled explosions of yelling and locking him in his room.

"Hm, this costs us nothing?" Harry nodded, "We can tell Marge whatever story we wish then?" Harry nodded, "You won't return until next school year if we sign this form?" Harry nodded again. "Fine, then when can you be gone?"

Vernon was more than pleased with this. If the brat wasn't here, then Marge was more likely to not bitch so much like she normally did, and the less of either of them there was, the better things were. He was quick to sign the form as Harry spoke.

"I can be gone in a few hours, I just need time to repack my trunk and get Hedwig in her cage, though I need to clean that first too." Harry replied, hiding his glee.

"Very well. Hurry and get out of here, and make sure that room is cleaned before you leave." Vernon huffed out.

Harry had to slow his step as he grabbed his trunk from his old cupboard and rushed to his room. It was only two hours later that he was packed, his wand tucked against his arm, and his cloak stuffed in his pocket. Harry was slightly distressed that his wand was cold, no longer radiating that feeling of comfort and reassurance it always had given him. He shook his head as he made his way down the stairs to the front door, leaving his trunk there as he continued to the kitchen.

"Aunt Petunia, I am leaving. I won't be back until next year." He got no verbal response, only a jerk of the head even told him she was listening. Whatever, he had more pressing concerns.

Leaving the house, he made his way to a quiet alley just down the road from where he had been. He knew Sirius hadn't escaped yet, or at least it wasn't public, so he wouldn't see his godfather, but he would still take advantage of the Knight bus as he was again, not allowed to apparate.

After a short, but extremely dangerous journey, Harry stood outside of the Leaky Cauldron, and after taking a deep breath, walked it. Surprisingly, the place wasn't super packed, but it was only nine, so it wasn't a mealtime and since it was past breakfast, there were only a few people eating. "Hey Tom."

The barkeep looked up, surprised, "Mr. Potter, a pleasure to see you again. How may I be of assistance?"

"I need a room until September first. My relatives leave the country tomorrow for a business trip, and other arrangements couldn't be made, so I have to stay here." Harry explained. The barkeep nodded.

"Well, a room for that long is a galleon a day, including three meals, or seven sickles a day, not including meals. So either thirty one galleons or twelve galleons and six sickles." The man explained. Harry pulled his sack of gold back out and handed over the thirty one galleons. After getting his key, he made his way to the room to drop off his trunk.

It was only a short while later the green eyed boy stood in Gringotts, waiting in the short line to speak to a teller. The two goblins that guarded the entrance had eyed him as he had entered the bank, but neither had said anything, putting Harry on edge. "Next!"

Harry stepped forward once it was finally his turn, "What can I do for you, little wizard?" the teller asked in a tone that clearly said that he wouldn't accept someone wasting his time.

"My vault key has been misplaced, and I needed to get a new one. Along with that, I was hoping to put in a request for information about what I have in my vault." Harry said, the goblin not taking his eyes off of him.

"Name?" The goblin picked up a piece of parchment.

"Harry Potter."

The goblin stilled his hand, having reached for something to write with. "You need to go see your account manager then. I cannot help you." was the firm reply.

"I was unaware I had one. Who is my account manager?" Was this something Harry had missed last time? Was this why Death wanted him to seek answers here?

"Manager Ripclaw is your account manager, Mr. Potter. Go see him. Guard, escort Mr. Potter to Ripclaw's office." A goblin in silver armor stepped forward, before gesturing to a set of doors on the side.

Harry followed the goblin, ignoring the sword that the goblin's hand rested on, or the thud of each of its steps, the heavy armor making it sound like Moody's fake leg. Instead, he focused on the bank itself. The marble halls had paintings of different battles and goblins, with names in goblin-tongue below it. It was a part of the bank Harry had never been in, so Harry paid close attention. Surprisingly, it was only a short walk and two turns to make it to their destination, where the armored goblin gestured to the door.

Harry looked between him and the door, before knocking with trepidation. It was only moments later that a reply came, "ENTER!"

Harry slowly opened the wood door, and saw an older goblin sitting behind the desk. He quickly glanced around the room, seeing mostly bookshelves lining the walls, though there was an armor stand, set with full armor, and behind the goblin, a display of several different weapons. Praying that they wouldn't be used on him, he walked in further and closed the door behind him.

"Manager Ripclaw?" Harry asked. The goblin's glare was enough to cause him to step back, having far exceeded any look that Voldemort could have ever given him.

"Well, you ignore my summons, ones I have sent to you since you were first within these walls, only to show up now, without warning or confirmation that I was free?" The goblin snarled, clearly angry.

"I was unaware you wished to see me, or that I even had an account manager. No one ever told me. I only knew I had a vault with an unknown amount of gold in it." Harry replied cautiously.

"How were you unaware that I wished to see you, when I have sent over a dozen letters to you?" Ripclaw asked, there was an undertone to his voice, daring Harry to challenge this. Of course, he was oblivious of it.

"I never got any mail from Gringotts… or mail from anyone unless it is carried by my owl or the school, or occasionally Errol." Harry spoke, his voice trailing off as something dawned on him, "You know, for being famous, I never get any mail."

"Hmfp, well, if that is the case, would you consent to a truth serum to confirm such a thing?" Ripclaw asked, getting a nod in return. He pulled out a vial with clear liquid in it, Merlin knows why he had it in the first place, before holding it out to Harry. "The effects last roughly thirty seconds."

Harry sniffed it, and not getting much back, downed the vial, "Have you ever received mail from Gringotts, or a summons to see me?" the goblin asked.

"No." There was a ringing silence as Harry watched the goblin get angry. The goblin glared at the clock, seemingly wanting it to melt, but alas, it stayed whole.

"Sit Mr. Potter. We have much to discuss." Ripclaw demanded.

20 minutes Later…

"So let me get this straight, Albus Dumbledore is my guardian?" Ripclaw nodded. "I have more than a million Galleons sitting in my vaults, plural, right now?" He nodded again, "I am the heir to my family and due to become its Head and Lord, and sit on the Wizengamot once I am old enough?" The goblin nodded again.

"What the fuck." Harry was at wits end. The goblin had first started with the simplest matter, the money in Harry's vault… or vaults. His heir vault, the one he had been using, refilled to twenty thousand galleons every year from the family vault, which currently sat at over a million galleons. Then there was his mother's vault, which sat separate from the Potter Vaults, but also had another seventy thousand galleons in it that he was permitted to use.

Then, the goblin asked him if Harry would finally accept Heirship, donning the Potter Heir ring as proof of his lineage and showing honor for his family. Which then turned into a ten minute lesson on what the hell the Ripclaw was talking about.

"So, Mr. Potter, will you be doing an inheritance test, and taking up your responsibilities?" Ripclaw asked.

"Yes, it seems I have a lot to learn." Harry replied, watching the goblin withdraw a plain silver knife and a bowl.

"This is an inheritance ritual. All you must do is cut your hand open above the bowl. Once there is sufficient blood in the bowl, it will glow and after a moment, create a piece of parchment with your inheritances on it. Do not fret, your hand will be healed for free." the goblin explained, holding the knife out to him.

Harry cautiously took the blade, and with gentle pressure, cut his palm open. He watched as blood lined the bottom of the bowl before starting to pool, and after only a few more drops, glowed. Harry was surprised by the warmth coming from it, and his hand, but soon enough, it disappeared leaving a parchment in place of the bowl, and a healed hand.

Ripclaw picked up the parchment, reading it carefully before handing it out to Harry. Once Harry had it in his hand, the goblin stood and walked towards the door. "I will return momentarily." He said, leaving Harry to read the results alone.

Hadrian James Potter

Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black

Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter

Heir to the Ancient House of Peverell

Heir to the Ancient House of Gryffindor

Harry sat confused about what any of it meant, but knew he would gain no answers until Ripclaw returned. Which turned into a five, then ten, then fifteen minute wait. Suddenly, the door opened, allowing two goblins to enter. One was Ripclaw carrying a tray with two rings on it, but the other Harry didn't recognize.

"Mr. Potter, this is Account Manager Axeblade. He works for the Black Family, and was needed for this meeting." Ripclaw spoke, "I have already informed him of your status and why you haven't been present."

"Well met, Mr. Potter." Axeblade said, his voice rough and deep. He was even older than Ripclaw.

"Well met Axeblade." Harry replied, trying to match etiquette. There had to be some hierarchy and etiquette, right?

"Let us start with you wearing the rings Mr. Potter, before we go over your results and the Black Family accounts. We will start with the Potter Heir ring."

Harry slowly picked up the gold band, looking at the writing around the ruby gemstones that lined the top of it, embedded into what Harry guessed to be the Potter Family Crest. Slowly, he slid it onto his finger, causing it to glow, and warmth to flood his body, magic wrapping around him before settling and disappearing. It was… odd yet comforting, and a little more than confusing, but Harry accepted it for what it was.

Ripclaw gestured for Harry to accept the next ring, which was the Black Heir ring, if Harry had to guess. "Onto the same finger Mr. Potter. The rings will merge with one another."

It was platinum, Harry thought, with a deep purple amethyst set into the band. A single engraving was across the stone, Toujours Pur, which had been the Black Family Motto. Sirius had told him it once stood for 'Always pure to blood and magic', but had been warped by his more recent ancestors to mean 'Always Pure' in terms of blood status.

Shaking his head of such thoughts, he slowly slid the band onto the same finger as told, and was surprised to watch the Potter ring fade away. He felt a cold pressure, squeezing and judging him, before warming and wrapping around him like had happened with the Potter ring. He glanced down, and saw the ring had shrunk and now sat comfortably on his hand, though the Potter ring was now missing.

After a few moments, where Ripclaw provided Harry with hot tea, they continued their business.

"How is Heir Potter the Heir of House Black?" Ripclaw asked Axeblade. The older goblin sighed, before speaking.

"The late Lord Black, Arcturus, was afraid of the family falling into the wrong hands. Unlike most of the Blacks, while he was a vicious bastard, he was one that never swayed to Voldemort's wishes. He knew, without making it official, that the family would fall into the hands of the Noble House of Malfoy, or the Ancient and Noble house of LeStrange. In his determination, he visited his nephew, who was your father-" The goblin stared at Harry a moment, "And asked to make you the Heir. Sirius still had primary heirship until he ascended, but as he is now Lord Apparent, you are now the Heir."

Harry processed this information, "So unless Sirius has children, I am the heir?" Harry asked. Axeblade shook his head.

"Sirius, if his innocence is ever proved, could never have children. It is one of the long term side effects of the high security wing of Azkaban. Dementors slowly damage the body, and it is why after so long, people die from their exposure. It shuts down organs, and one of the early ones is the reproductive organs." Axeblade explained. Harry felt guilt rise up, realizing Sirius could never have a normal life.

"How do you know Sirius is innocent?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Magic. If he was guilty, and had been convicted, he would have no longer been eligible to be Lord. As he was never properly tried, magic still recognizes him as Lord Apparent." Ripclaw responded.

"What about House Peverell?" Harry asked. The goblins glanced at each other.

"The House has been dead for over a thousand years, Heir Potter." Axeblade replied slowly.

"They are an ancient house for the fact that they were old even when they married the Potter family. The Potter Vault has a small section dedicated to what was left from House Peverell, along with Peverell Castle, which is a part of the Potter family holdings, but that is it." Ripclaw continued.

They then delved into more business talk. They informed him that the rings could become invisible on demand, making Harry relax a little at the knowledge no one would see the rings before he was ready. Harry also found out that they did not hold a ring for House Gryffindor, as apparently it was never stored within the bank and to their knowledge, there may not even be a ring. He also found out that though he was the Heir of House Peverell, it was a part of the House of Potter, and had no seat on the Wizengamot, nor did the House of Gryffindor, as it was before the Wizengamot.

As for other matters, the goblins couldn't help Sirius, per the treaties. They could only offer advice for Harry to seek legal counsel, though Harry wouldn't do it until he talked to the man. After discussing what Harry had access to, and gave Harry keys to his vaults, they bid him a good day. Harry knew that his mother's vault was unmonitored by Dumbledore, having asked earlier, so he went and pulled out two thousand galleons, stuffed into an expanded pouch, before going and pulling out two hundred galleons from his heir vault. Now Dumbledore wouldn't be suspicious of anything Harry bought.

Heading back to the tavern, Harry ate a good dinner before heading to his room. After a long hot shower, something that felt amazing after having been on the run for a year, he climbed in bed and fell asleep, feeling a comfortable and relaxing calm in himself despite the circumstances.

Chapter Length: 4404

Post A/n: Some of you may be wondering about my other Potter Fiction, Revival. It is still on hold as I can't seem to figure out how to twist the GOF arc the way I want it. I promise, I am still searching for how I want it to be, but this came into my head and I thought you may enjoy some content at least. Cheers.