A Flower By Any Other Name

-oOo-

Rambling and Dribbles: A dribble that I hope some enjoy. All updates are now in chapter 1 of Rambling and Dribbles.

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter does not belong to me.

-oOo-

Premise:

Waking up in the Forbidden Forest should make most panic. For Harry, it is just another day. What wasn't another day was to find out he had gone back to a point where Hogwarts hadn't been destroyed.

Harry/Fleur (3 year gap or time travel?)

Fleur doesn't appear appear until ch 5/6. Harry has work to do first.

-oOo-

Chapter 1

-oOo-

Unknown Date…

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry was getting tired of the games the old headmaster was playing with is life.

For the second time within minutes, the world was a bright white mist. There was a chill to the air.

Closing his eyes, he was surprised to find that he actually felt his eyes closing. He hadn't felt any sensations when talking with the old fart in King's Cross Station. He had just been. It had been rather peaceful there, and he hadn't felt any of the anger he should have at the old man for setting him up to be a lamb for slaughter, but now that he had moved on, a slow simmering rage was building up in him.

Opening his eyes, the world was just as blurry as it had been when he went on to that place between.

Sighing, he ran a hand over his face to realize he didn't have his glasses on.

He turned his head to the side. Leaves crackled below him. He blinked a time or two to see the ground. Unsure what was going on, he turned to his side. All the abuse his body had taken in the last two days had a groan come out of his mouth.

He could feel the numerous bruises, cuts and what was probably a separated rib pulse through his body.

"The bloody wanker didn't say it would hurt to come back," he whinged.

His glasses were just at the edge of where his sight started to come into focus. He was nearly blind up close, but could see fairly well at distance. Patting his pocket for his wand, he was relieved to find it. Pulling it out, he flicked his wand. The silent accio had his glasses flying into his hand. They must have been a good ten or more feet away. He hadn't remembered taking them off before…

Suddenly remembering where he was and why he was here, Harry rolled over, came into a crouch, jammed his mangled glasses onto his face then stared to whip his wand around the clearing, ready to fire off any spell that might save him.

The world really was a white-greying haze.

It took him a moment to realize the dark shapes coming from the ground and looming over him were massive trees.

He blinked a few times.

He was all alone.

He was all alone, and by the light in the forest, the sun was up and he was in a dense fog.

Unsure if he should make a sound or not, he fell back to the habits that had kept Hermione, Ron and him alive since last August. He swished his wand towards his feet, silently casting a silencing charm on them. He then ran his wand down his body, making himself odourless. Finally, he tapped his wand over his head to dissolution himself. He knew his cloak would work better, but the charm allowed for free movement at a moment notice without the chance of his wand arm or head getting caught in the material when milliseconds could be the difference between life and death.

He then cast a few revealing spells. He wasn't as good as the as Hermione, but he wasn't a slouch either. He turned his head to look in the direction that a spell revealed some arachnids not far off. They must be big too.

Swallowing, he realized that not all the acromantula had been driven from their nest.

Putting the wand in his hand, he cast one of the few spells that needs words, even though they tried this one non-verbally many times. "Point me Hogwarts."

His holly and phoenix feather wand turned to point a little towards his left. Luckily it would take him away from the acromantula. It took him nearly ten minutes to find his way to the edge of the forest. In the thick fog, the only reason he knew he had reached the edge of the woods was because the trees thinned then abruptly stopped. The leaf litter turned into browning grass.

The bell in the clock tower rang, echoing in the fog banks.

Harry was confused. He had seen the clock tower fall when the giants had attacked the courtyard.

He was even more confused when the sounds of hundreds of students came to him. Instead of screams and shouts pain and anger, it was the general murmur of conversations, the ringing laughter of some and the general feel as though they hadn't a care in the world.

He moved back against a tree when he heard people walking towards the school. His mouth dropped open when he heard three distinct voices that had him thinking he had gotten on the train to go on instead of going back.

"Thicker than porridge it is," a much younger Ron whinged.

He saw the shapes come out of the mist. They were at the head of a group of Gryffindors, with a group of Slytherin walking a little fast not far away. He had to keep himself from not sending a piercing hex through a half dozen people he recognized. The only thing that kept him from doing so was that they all looked to be thirteen or fourteen.

A sinking feeling was pooling in his gut.

"It allowed us to the see the bowtruckles in the trees though. Hagrid says they usually run if they can see you coming," Hermione noted.

"I still swear I saw an acromantula I the mist though," a much younger and scrawnier him stated.

The much younger Ron shivered.

"What the bloody fuck? Did I fall on a time turner?" he asked himself as the class disappeared into the mist on their way to the school.

In his addled mind, he almost missed the swelling of a powerful magical. He spun about, his wand coming up and landing just between the eyes of a bearded old man that flared into existence from a fiery ball. Fawkes screeched at him as a man Harry had trusted looked a little surprised at him.

"Who the hell are you?" Harry demanded. Even though he had just seen himself four years younger, he had learned to never take anything for granted.

Fawkes squawked angrily at him before landing on Dumbledore's shoulder. Dumbledore when to take a step back and Harry stepped with him. "Tell me who you are or I blast your head all over the grass."

This time the man looked a little curious. "It has been many a year when someone can get a jump on me like this."

"Cut the crap! Who are you?"

Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes looked right into his. "I think I should be asking you that, since you have gotten past the dementors and wards that should keep you off the grounds."

Harry blinked. "Dementors?"

That probably explained the chill and the mist.

"Yes. The minister, in his infinite wisdom, has posted dementors around the school to protect the students, but I am wondering if he not the real enemy out there. Could you please tell me who you are and how you got on the grounds? There are almost four hundred students under my protection and I would not want them to see them hurt," Dumbledore said.

Harry felt really confused. The dementors had only been posted around the school… it then hit him where, or more specifically when, he was. "Sirius?" a managed to choke out. The deaths of Sirius and Dobby were his greatest personal griefs. The destruction of Hogwarts and the deaths here he wasn't sure who to blame yet. It was still too fresh and raw and… hadn't happened.

Harry took a stumbling step back.

Dumbledore didn't move.

Harry put his hands on his knees and his head down. "Bloody hell. This is my third year."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked. When Harry didn't reply, Dumbledore asked, "Do you know Sirius Black?"

Harry gave a half crazed laugh. "Yeah, I knew him. What date is it?"

"It is May sixth. What do you mean you knew him? You do not look old enough. Who are you?" Dumbledore questioned, this time have a little bit of a harder tone to his voice.

Harry stood up. Seeing the man that had led so many to their deaths had him going through an internal struggle. Up until an hour or two ago, he never would have believed it, but Dumbledore had played them all to see Voldemort defeated.

His emotions must have played across his face because Dumbledore took on a very serious look and his hand came to his hand.

"Are you just going to kill me this time or are you going to wait to send me to Voldemort to die at the right time like you planned for me since the night you left me on my relatives' doorstep?" Harry bitterly asked, not raising his wand.

Dumbledore kept the elder wand at his side, looking shocked this time as what Harry had just said.

Harry was furious at the man, waiting for a response.

After a moment, Dumbledore said, "I see. A broken time turner accident?"

Harry gave a dark chuckle. "Try a killing curse," he said, rubbing his chest.

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," Harry replied.

"And you were hit by another killing curse?"

"Yeah. Just like you wanted. You wanted all the horcruxes dead, and waited for me to be last…" Harry didn't hesitate. Dumbledore may have the strongest wand in the world, and have decades of duelling experience and power to spare, but Harry had just come off a battlefield after a year on the run, not to mention now that the horcrux was gone, he had a power reserve to match the old man, even with him having the elder wand.

Harry's wand was up and the white hammer smashed through a hastily erected shield before the whispy white spell of an obliviate hit the man followed by a stunner.

Fawkes took off before Dumbledore could do more than cast his first spell. He screeched at Harry, who responded by sending an ice spear at the bird. It pieced the phoenixes chest, which caused it to burst into flame and ashes. Harry felt guilty about it, but after what Dumbledore had set him up to do, there was no way he was light enough to earn the allegiance of a higher phoenix.

If he was wrong, the bird would be reborn and hate him while still being with Dumbledore.

"Professor!" the booming voice of Hagrid called out.

Harry couldn't be found here and he couldn't see Hagrid. Rushing over, he grabbed Dumbledore's wand, which send a flush of power through him, then threw it back down before scooping up the baby phoenix that was rising out of the ashes before running off into the woods.

The elder wand was too powerful for anyone to possess and he knew that a wizard using another wizard's wand would never work as well.

Fang barked behind him.

-oOo-

Later that day…

London, England

Hermione really was right. He did just run into situations and react.

Now that it had been a few hours, Harry was berating himself for what he had done.

He should have obliviated Dumbledore of the last hundred year, not just the memory of himself.

He should have found out how Dumbledore knew he was at Hogwarts, since he clearly hadn't always known things when Harry had been in school… though Harry was starting to second guess that.

He also should have grabbed Fawkes. What was he going to do with a phoenix when it grew older? Dumbledore would surely recognize his familiar and Harry would never keep the bird away from the man. He knew all too well the attachment of a familiar.

So far though, the little chick had only crooed happily and not made a fuss.

What he needed now, considering he only had his wand, his invisibility cloak, the clothes on his back and his moke skin pouch that held an assortment of odds, ends and about ten galleons worth of coins, was to figure out if he had any other resources.

He then need to know if he had truly gone back to his past or if this was something else. Hermione had said horrible things had happened to people that meddled with time. When he asked her what, she had stopped in the middle of the corridor, looked troubled and then said, "Actually, I don't know. There are just warning against it."

Ron, in his ability to cut to the simplest things, questioned, "Why the warning then if you don't know what happens?"

She had bitten her lip. "I don't know."

It would be a few weeks later that she mentioned that there was nothing in any of the books on time travel except theory on possible alternate realities or timelines. That would mean that there would be infinite number of mirror realities where things either played out the same or diverged. Harry would be the first to admit that it mostly went over his head, but now that he was living one, he wasn't sure if it might be true.

He figured the only way to find out if it was true would be to find what had happened in the current time he was in, then see what happens if he messes with things. There was no way he was going to let himself live through the dementors, the Triwizard Tournament, Umbridge or the last year when he had been on the run.

To do that, he needed resources.

He couldn't make any plans until he knew what he had to work with.

Finding his way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest had been relatively easy. London was a short apparition hop away.

Little known fact, per Hermione, apparition has a limit based on the wizard's power. Most can comfortably apparate around a hundred miles in a single hop. The most powerful maybe a hundred fifty. When trying to figure out how far Harry could go so they knew what to expect when escaping snatchers and Death Eaters, he could go nearly two-hundred. The two times he had side-alonged with Dumbledore, it figured it had been nearly four-hundred miles from Scotland to the cave.

Without thinking, he had just hopped from Hogwarts to London in a single hop.

When he realized what he had done, he filed that away to figure it out later. Things were screwed up enough since he had had taken the killing curse to his chest.

Walking to the Leaky Cauldron, he was able to get through without much fuss. No expected to see a seventeen year old Harry Potter so most just thought him a recently young man here on business.

It was with no small amount of trepidation that he approached Gringotts. To him, it had been less than forty-eight hours ago he had ridden a dragon out of the bank's lobby. His nervousness must not have been that noticeable as the the guards outside didn't look at him any differently. When he approached a teller, the goblin held out its hand without looking up.

"Key, please," it asked while still writing in a leger.

Harry opened his mokeskin pouch and took out his key. He didn't say a thing as the goblin took, examined it, then looked up. He then passed the key over a stone on his desk, waited for something Harry couldn't see, then tried not to frown with the goblin frowned. The black eyes didn't betray what the goblin was thinking. "You are Harry Potter?"

He stood a little tall. Hopefully he could bullshit his way through this. Luckily, there was only one of witch on the otherside of the bank right now. "I am."

The goblin just stared at him for a moment. The goblin closed the large leger, waved his hand over it, then hopped down from his chair. "Follow, please."

He took it as an encouraging sign that alarms weren't going off and he wasn't being poked with any blades. Harry followed the rapidly moving goblin to a side door, down two halls and then stopped outside a darkly polished, heavy looking wooden door. The goblin knocked. When he entered, Harry was motioned to follow.

There was a small office behind the door. A few book cases with tomes, legers and scrolls were off to one side of the room, a large desk for a goblin was in the centre and three chairs were arrayed before the desk. A rather aged goblin in a dark blue suit adorned with many gold and silver chains and dropping ears sat behind the desk.

The two goblins spoke gobbledegook for a moment before the teller put Harry's key on the desk. "Account Manager Gripsac will talk with you."

"Ah, thank you," he said.

"Take a seat, Mister Potter," the aged goblin said, indicating one of the hard back chairs.

The teller gave Harry a nod of his head before leaving the room. He closed the door behind him.

Harry took a seat, unsure what this was all about. "Did I do something wrong?"

The goblin leaned back in his chair, touching the tips of his fingers together before tapping the pointer fingers on his wide mouth. "I find this interesting."

Harry waited with bated breath. He wouldn't steal from his younger self, but he need some funds. Not sure if he should play stupid or not, Harry figured the goblins might be easier to deal with if he was straight forward. "I know that is the key to my vault. There should be one other key. I can swear that I do not intent to steal anything that is not mine already."

The black eyes of Gripsac bored into him. "Nothing you have said is untruthful, but there is problem."

"Like what?" Harry questioned.

"Your magic signature is different than what we have recorded in the past, yet is similar enough to be you. This key is registered to you and your trust vault, but the last I knew, Harry Potter is only thirteen. He could not be an adult wizard. Not even aging potion could fool our magic. Who are you?" Gripsac questioned.

Harry frowned. "Would you believe me that I am Harry Potter, but from a different time?"

He hoped this wouldn't blowup in his face.

Gripsac still looked rather calm and unbothered. "The change in your magical signature does seem to be what we see as people age over time." The goblin frowned. "This is not some simple time turner or other time spell, is it? Even we have not been able to determine how to send anyone back further than a few days."

Harry quirked a brow at the goblin. "You have tried this?"

Gripsac didn't say a thing. "We have a problem."

Harry frowned, reaching for his wand. "What kind of problem?"

Leaning forward, Gripsac reached out a tapped the key. "There can only be one Harry Potter."

Harry swallowed. "Meaning?"

"Either we kill you. The other Harry Potter is eliminated. Or, you claim you are someone else."

Harry had a sinking feeling. "I am not killing my younger self and I have no intentions of dying."

"I figured not." Gripsac tapped the key again. "You have no other name you can claim?"

"Ah, not that I know of," Harry said.

After a moment, Gripsac nodded his head.

"Very well. Prick your finger and place a smear on this parchment," Gripsac said. He put a long pick on the table that came to a needle point.

"Does it have to be blood?" Harry questioned, having dealt with blood magic more than he ever wanted in his life already.

"Unless you would like to take one of the first two options, you will need to press a blood print onto this parchment."

"Why?" he asked dubiously.

"It is to determine your magical parentage. It will be far easier for us to ritually change your name if you are related to or claim headship of another family than making up a new lineage," Gripsac explained.

Still feeling very unsure of this, but not wanting to consider murder or suicide, he did as instructed. When he pressed his bloody thumb print to the paper, it eagerly soaked up his blood. Harry could also feel the slight drain on his magic until he hastily removed his thumb.

The wound healed within seconds.

Gripsac watched as the blood splotch slowly grew into a gnarled, twisted branching. Every inch or so, a two small line of runes would appear. Harry had no clue what it said, but Gripsac just kept watching. When the twisted tree had gone about half way down the parchment, there were three lines that ended, while others continued to go further.

"What does it say?" Harry queried.

Pushing his chair back, Gripsac stood up without a word and walked over to one of the shelves. Pulling out a large, red leather-bound book, he opened the front cover, read the first page, then put it back. He did this two other times before moving back to the desk with a black leather bound book.

He put the book on the table and moved the pick towards him again. "Prick your finger and then touch it to the crest on this book."

Harry looked at the book, curious to see an impressed herald that had a knights helm above a shield with a faded red diagonal stripe and blue and yellow stripes in horizontal stripes. A wand lay onto of the red stripe.

"What is it?" he asked.

"According to this parchment, you have the right to take over three houses by conquest. Your Potter line has other inheritances, but if you were to take them up, the Potter name would die as any name absorbed into the bloodline can only be used at the dominant name," Gripsac explained.

His brow rose. "Meaning I would have to kill Harry Potter still?"

The goblin gave a toothless grin that made Harry uncomfortable. "That is still a viable option."

Harry shook his head. "Which house is this?"

"You have the supremacy rights over the House of Malfoy, Lestrange and Gaunt," the goblin explained.

"Bloody fuck no!" Harry shouted, jumping up and knocking the chair over.

Gripsac just sat back, not looking impressed. "If you do not like the house of Guant, you can claim the others, but I do not think you could do that without a challenge from Mister Malfoy and the Lestranges have some large debts I would not recommend you taking on."

Harry scowled. "I am not taking over the Gaunts! Do you know how is the last of that house?"

The goblin's grin was more predatory now. "Gringotts has known for some time about the last Gaunt. I can not talk about their holdings unless you accept your regency through conquest until you agree to bind your blood to the accounts."

Harry got his temper under control after a long moment of taking in some deep breaths. The goblins knew who Tom Riddle, thus Voldemort, is. They probably also knew the wanker was still alive. What he didn't get was… "How the fuck did I win the regency of Malfoy and Lestrange through conquest?"

"That I can not tell you, but magic clearly recognizes your claim," Griphook said, indicating the parchment.

Harry looked down at it, going through his head as to what this meant… he knew he had potentially killed a few Death Eaters in the battle he not so long ago left. Could he have defeated one of the Lestrange brothers?

"How do you gain a house through conquest?" Harry asked.

"You defeat the heir or regent of the house three times in deadly combat, kill the last heir or win the right through an agrees upon duel," Gripsac explained.

He swallowed. He had beaten Mister Malfoy three times. That night Dobby had tried to come to his aid but Harry had grabbed Malfoy's wand first, the battle of the DOM and he must have won a duel with Malfoy at Hogwarts. He had fought atleast a dozen Death Eaters in masks. He could only assume he had killed one or both Lestrange brothers. And he had definitely defeated Tom more than three times.

"Bloody fuck," he muttered.

Harry sat in the chair.

"Unless you want to kill yourself, then you need to put some blood on this book to bind yourself to the account. You can then take up the regency ring and take on the name of Gaunt," Gripsac told him.

Looking at the book, Harry felt very dirty about this, but as he thought about it, what irony would it be for him to take over everything Voldemort might have? He knew the man highly prized his heritage, as much as he hated his mother and the rest of his family.

As sick as it made him feel, Harry could also see the sick satisfaction in the it too.

Tom had killed off his family and had continuously tried end his family name. If Harry could return the favour..

"What do I gain by doing this?"

"I can't discuss anything with you until you take the bloodline of Gaunt as your own or claim the titles and regency of your house and kill the current heir," Gripsac told him.

Harry growled. With a quick movement, he grabbed the pick, jammed it into his thumb again, not even wincing at the pain as he drove it in far further than it should, then put jammed his dripping, bleeding thumb onto the crest.

He felt the magic right away. It was a foreign magic that rose to fight him off. Harry, not willing to submit to anything anymore, wrestled the magic and brought it to heel almost as fast as it had tried to take him over.

His hand glowed white before there was a small thunderclap and a rush of power.

Gripsac rose a brow. "That was quickly and more decisive than I had expected."

"Tell me what I need to know," Harry demanded.

The goblin's toothless grin was more unsettling than before. "Well, Mister Gaunt, let's go your accounts, the powers granted to you as being an ancient family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and what you might want to do with other members of your family."

Harry's brow rose. "Other members of my family?"

Gripcas reached for the book. Harry took his finger back. It took a few more seconds than last time for his thumb to heal while there was a blood smear still on the crest of the book.

"This is the official family account book for the Gaunt family at Gringotts. This current volume was started in seventeen-forty-three. The listing of heirs and branch lines come down to only two people." He opened the book. Harry saw the twisting vines and branches of a family tree. This time it was in a language he could read. Griphook started to leaf through the pages. He looked as lines ended and dwindled so that on the back of the third page there were only two names.

His had a thick tangle of vines attached to his, while one Tom Marvolo Riddle had a broken tangle with a single withered vine attached.

"You are the primary heir now. If you wish to take up regency, you will have the rights to cast any other family members from your bloodline. Any you cast out will no longer be considered a Gaunt, loosing all familiar connections to any moneys, heirlooms, properties, inheritances and will be unable to pass any of the family magics on. You can not reclaim any magic they might already have though," Gripsac explained.

Harry grinned. "I wish to take up the regency."

"Very good. I will send a runner to retrieve the family ring from the vaults," Gripsac said.

Harry's brow scrunched. "Wait. I thought the Gaunts were penniless and destitute?"

Gripsac was still grinning. "The last regent of the house died penniless. The family vaults had been closed and all the heirlooms sold off. The last heir was rather busy working to restore the house, including added more than a hundred heirlooms to the vaults," Gripsac said, turning the pages. "He also made quiet a few large deposits over the thirty-eight years the heir had to repopulate the new vaults."

Harry blinked. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know where the money and heirlooms had come from. "How much are we talking?"

Griphook was not about half way through the book when he stopped. His finger ran down the page. "Seven million three hundred and fifty-seven galleons, eight hundred and seventy-three sickles and one million two hundred and seventy-nine knuts."

Harry's mouth went dry. "Merlin! That more than I used to have."

Gripsac shook his head. "I should not talk about other clients, but the Potters are just as wealthy."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Mister Gaunt, but I really can't say more about it," Gripsac told him.

"There was no way their was that much wealth in my vault," Harry hotly replied.

"That was just a trust vault. It is standard for one to be established for an heir and many family members," Gripsac told him.

Harry growled out as though it was a curse, "Dumbledore!"

"Mister Gaunt, I really can't talk about other client, but there is a substantial amount for you handle here and it has sat mostly idle since nineteen-eight-one. May I suggest ways to invest and handle your estate?" Gripsac said.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "How much?"

Gripsac grinned again. "A modest fee, I promise."

Harry trusted the goblins as far as he could through them. "Only if I get to read the contract. First, how do I disown Riddle?"

"I will get the ritual room ready for you to attempt for the regency and then you can wear the family ring as proof," Gripsac told him.

-oOo-

That night…

London, England

Harry sat on the edge of the hotel bed. He hadn't wanted to stay at the Leaky Cauldron, just in case he hadn't escaped all notice and needing to get away from the magical world.

Now that he wasn't running on adrenaline, everything that had happened to him the last few days hit him. He had come from a war into the past and was unsure what he could do…

Images of all the bodies in the great hall, Hermione kissing Ron, the Weasley's wailing for George's and Bill's bodies…

His eyes burned. He shut them tight. He had been taught many years ago and through many beatings not to cry.

He was now on his own, all alone, the horcruxes were still all there and his other self had the potential of four more years of hell if he didn't do anything about it.

As the visions of death and destruction threatened to overtake him, Harry felt a panic attack coming on. Usually Hermione would help him, but with the Hermione he knew four years in the future and haven chosen HIM!...

As his breaths became shallow and the pain built in his chest, he knew he couldn't fall apart now. There was too much to do. That didn't keep him from have a total mental break down that night.

-oOo-

Chapter 2

-oOo-

May 15, 1994

London, England

It had been nine days. Nine days that he had only really done the bare minimum to take care of himself and start to move forward. The only thing he had done in the last nine days was go over old Daily Prophets, pick up a few history books and take a trip down to his new vaults.

It had taken those nine days of eating well again, using his occlumency lessons that Hermione and him had started after finding a book from Dumbledore and taking a few dreamless sleep potions to start to feel like he was a normal man again.

That first hot shower he had been able to take was wonderful. Even though they had spent two weeks at Shell cottage before breaking into Gringottts, it hadn't really felt restful.

The soft cooing and songs of the maturing phoenix in his room helped as well. Fawkes was already getting close to malting, thought still only half the size he would be when fully grown. Since the phoenix wasn't asking angry with him, Harry could only think the fire bird didn't mind being taken from Dumbledore.

As the cart trundled through the cavern, he was starting to formulate plans. Hermione had always been the details person. He usually just pointed himself at a problem and it worked out in the end. Unfortunately, that usually meant there was collateral damage.

First year Ron had almost been killed playing a game of chess.

Second year Ron and him had almost been eaten my giant acromantula, obliviated and crushed under tons of rocks.

Third year Hermione had almost gotten her first kiss while a werewolf wanted to snack on them both.

Fourth year was Cedric.

Fifth year was Sirius and all his friends seriously hurt in the DOM.

Sixth year had been Dumbledore. Harry had been sad at the time, but now wished the man was already dead knowing what he had planned for his younger self.

Last year had seen hundreds, probably thousands, of people killed, raped, tortured or a dozen of other depravities he probably couldn't even imagine because he had been unprepared and unable to do more.

His anger at the headmaster had grown as he thought of everything that had happened and that so much of it could have been prevented if Dumbledore had acted instead set up Harry to die and just abandoned everything else to see the dammed prophesy come to life.

As he had thought of it all, he had started to wonder what was in the Gaunt vaults. Perhaps there was something that could make it easier to get rid of the horcruxes and save the Harry of this time. He didn't want the boy to have to take a killing curse again.

As he had found, he now had a new lightening bolt scar on his chest.

The cart came to a halt a level or two up from the deepest vaults.

"Vault seventy-three. Key please," the goblin said as he got out of the cart.

Harry handed over his new key and followed the goblin to the door. The goblin put the key in, then ran his finger down the crest in the centre of the door. There was a series of clinks and clangs before it slowly opened on its own. The goblin moved out of the way.

Harry moved to the portal.

Harry thought his vault from his parents had been large. Looking int vault eighty-seven was the difference between a large closet to a large master bedroom. The listing he had gotten from the Gaunt family leger didn't really convey what more than seven million galleons looked like, or that the 'miscellaneous' scrolls and books were a libraries worth of knowledge.

The wall were lined with shelves. Half the shelves were stuffed with books, scrolls, artefacts, weapons and off instruments. The other shelves held boxes and boxes of what Harry could only assume was full of coins or other valuables as there were no piles like there had been in his old vault. Eight large steamer trunks ran down the centre of the vault. Three full sets of what looked like full goblin steal chainmail, and one that looked like goblin armour, were on stands in the back.

Harry blinked.

If Voldemort had this type of wealth, why did he need financial backers like Malfoy and Parkinson?

Still feeling weary and Moody's montra of 'Constant Vigulance' running through his head, he asked the goblin, "May I use my wand?"

The goblin's black eyes bored into his. "Why?"

"I don't trust that anything in here isn't cursed," Harry said.

The goblin had a slight grin. "Apparently not all wizards are ignorant. For a small fee you can use your wand in the vault, or you can hire curse breakers to check your vault and items for curses."

Harry knew enough detection spells to know if he in over his head, but not really anything about curse breaking. Why hadn't he thought of this when he came to the bank nine days ago?

Oh, yeah, he had just come from a battle field, been killed, obliviated a man that he had once looked up to as a grandfather and had been sent back more years. Why didn't he ask about this? He internally snarked to himself.

"How much and how long for a curse breaker to go over everything?" Harry questioned.

"Four galleons and three sickles an hour per team member to determine if anything is cursed. Two galleons and eleven sickles an hour to determine how to remove the items. Prices vary depending on what is required to remove or destroy the items," the goblin told him.

Harry frowned. That could turn out to be very cheap or very expensive.

"Could you or a curse breaker tell me today what is safe to touch and what is not?" Harry asked. "I'll pay double the rate."

The goblin looked interested. "If you would come back to the lobby, we can see if any are available."

Harry nodded. He made sure the vault door was closed, the bolts and locks securely in place an his key in his hand before taking the trip back to the surface. It was almost two hours later when two goblins and a witch entered the vault after ensuring it was safe to do so.

It was a good thing they did as they had found it had been password protected. It took Harry all of ten seconds to figure out the strange language the curse breakers were squabbling over was parseltongue and that the arrogant sod would think no one would be able to get in. A quickly hissed, Let me in you stupid wanker, had the dangerous curses dropping. He was pretty sure that wasn't the password, but he was now the head of the Gaunt line, so he shouldn't be kept out of what was rightfully his.

He would need everything in this vault to carry out the rough plan that had started to percolate.

He had arrived at the bank just after nine in the morning. He was walking out of it with a pocket full of coins and muggle bills, a half dozen books, including one with the Potter crest on it, and two old wands that had responded to him. After losing his holly and phoenix feather wand, he understood the importance of having multiples. Besides, he really didn't like Draco Malfoys old wand and the new one with the reddish hue wood responded to him as well as his old wand did.

With a growling stomach, he found a hole in the wall place that served a good fish fry before making his way back to the hotel room he was renting.

Dropping the rucksack he had bought from the goblins onto the bed, he made sure the wards were still up and not disturbed before sitting in the chair at the desk. Those wards that Hermione had ensured were drilled into him had saved their lived to many times for him never to not use them again. Call him paranoid, but it was what had kept them alive. The one time they had let their guard down, the taboo had brought the wards down in a spectacular light show and snatchers had gotten them…

He would think about that.

It was a sure way for him to get lost in melancholia instead of focusing on what he needed to do.

Reaching for the rucksack, he took the books out. Even though he was Gaunt now, he was still a Potter by birth, so was interested to find out why Voldemort would have a book with his family's crest. It had called out to him the second he walked by it when the curse breakers indicated what was safe for him to touch and what wasn't.

They estimated it would take a team of three of them a month to determine everything that was on the items and come up with a plan on how to make them safe for Harry to touch. Looking at the treasure trove of items and knowledge, he figured the sixteen-hundred galleon estimate would be worth it. He was not able to get an estimate of what it would cost to break the curses though.

Harry ran his fingers over the crest on the front of the leather bound book. The book looked a few hundred years old. Opening it, he found a long list of names. He was curious about that. Three pages of names with his father and mother being the last ones to put their names in. Just above them were the names of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.

He had the urge to add his own name to the list, but he wasn't a full Potter anymore, and what would happen when Harry, the other Harry, saw his name in the book as all the names looked be clearly written in different hands, like each person had signed their own. Each name had the name of Potter, or cross and the new last name of the females husbands next to it.

Avoiding the urge, he flipped a few more pages. Ten pages in, he found the first page of script to be done in a very elaborate way. Frowning, Harry could see it was in an much older style of writing. It took him a little bit to go through the old English, then decode the roman numerals, but in the end, he found that this book was the history and magical heritage of his family, with the first entry being in fifteen-seventy-two.

Harry licked his lips.

He had heard of others talking about a family grimoire, but he had doubted his family had one. There had only been coins in his vault.

Realizing the treasure this truly was, he couldn't stop thinking about how Voldemort had gotten this book.

Pursing his lips, he started to read the true history of his family.

-oOo-

May 20, 1994

London, England

A still fuzzy phoenix slept on a perch next to Harry as he rubbed his eyes and leaned back in the partially comfortable office chair. The rubbish bin next to the desk was full of take away containers. The book before him wasn't cracked even a quarter of the way through. For the better part of five days now he had been engrossed in Potter grimoire, with his mind whirling in the background. There was a lifetime of knowledge in here and had only really scratched the surface.

He had come to a few conclusions while going through the book.

First, he needed this book. The history and magic were his birth right and could be what he needed to beat Voldemort. Perhaps he wouldn't even need to go horcrux hunting this time, even if he knew where they all were now.

He had not idea how he would get the locket, the diadem or where Nagini was at this time, and he did not want to break in and out of Gringotts again. At least not until the items in the Gaunt Vault were clean enough for him to touch or use.

Second, he needed to get his other self away from the Dursleys and Dumbledore. He had known that since coming back, but figured he had a little time with Harry at Hogwarts. Though, that time was quickly running out. It was only about four weeks from now that they would find Scabbers and everything would go tits up.

Harry, the other Harry, deserved to know everything about his family and to have a good life.

The Dursleys, Dumbledore and everyone that willingly helped him deserved to burn.

Third, he needed to find out how Voldemort had his family's grimoire.

Fourth, of the other five books he had taken, he now realized that the thickest one was the new grimoire that Voldemort himself had made and it held secrets and magics that must have come from hundreds of other sources. The secrets to the horcruxes would most likely be in there, but he felt dirty after looking through some of it. Not everything was bad, but there was enough dark stuff in that book to make him feel like he needed a scaulding shower after looking through it.

The other books were tomes Voldemort had collected somewhere. Two were on warding, another on healing and the last on defence.

Harry was realizing he would need to learn more about runes and arithmancy. The little that Hermione had taught them when they were on the run was not going to be enough.

Lastly, he was coming to the conclusion that he was going to have to act and change things.

He figured the first change would be to fully change his name. He was getting to muddled in his own head at times to keep saying Harry and the other Harry to himself. According to the Gaunt family tree he had translated by the Goblins, the Gaunts were not as old as everyone thought. They had started out as the Peverells, much like the Potters, and it was the third son of XXXXX Gaunt, the Duke of XXXXX, brother to King Edward XXX and father to King Henry XXX that sired the Gaunt line, and then the son married the last Peverel daughter of Cadmus Peverell.

Harry didn't like that he was related to Voldemort, even if it was distantly, but hadn't Sirius said one time that all Purebloods were related in some way? And the Gaunts and Potters were mostly purebloods for the last few hundred years.

Given that the Potters have royal blood in them, like the Guants, he had decided he would take on the name Henry. Harry was once a king, so why not be named after another king?

Next, he was going back to Hogwarts.

He needed to get certifications in the wizarding world. He woud have to find out about his OWLs, but knew you could take them at the ministry over the summer. Again, the lovely Hermoine, his Hermione, had found that out after that disasterous year with Umbridge.

Harry also needed access to the Chamber of Secrets for the basilisk and to the Room of Requirements to get the tiara.

But even before going back for that, Harry needed to go back to resolve an issue that should have been resolved years ago. There was no reason, aside from an old dumb man's hubris, why Harry had to grow up the way he did. The wards did nothing except keep some Death Eaters away from the house, but Harry spent more time out of the house than in it between school and being kicked out most days. Not to mention the way he was raised.

His only reluctance was trying to figure out how Dumbledore had known he was there that day.

Pulling the Mauraders map to himself, he scanned it again. Peter Pettigrew was near the kitchens. He had been the last week since Harry had had the idea to look for him. If he had only know what to expect at that time and why Lupin hadn't seen the name considering he had the map by then Harry didn't know.

Not wanting to wait, he determined that there was no time like the present to resolve this issue, and night time was the best time to sneak around the castle.

-oOo-

That night…

Hogwarts, Scotland

The invisibility cloak was wrapped firmly around him as he silently made his way to the room below the humped back witch. Looking at the map one more time, he was satisfied that it was late enough that no one was up at this hour. Patrols usually ended around one in the morning. At three in the morning, all the students and teachers were where they were supposed to be.

Satisfied that Peeves was making trouble off in the north tower and that there were only ghosts about, he whispered, "Dissendium."

The statue soundlessly slid to the side.

Thanks to years of sneaking about and learning the passage and hidden ways of the school, Harry was able to make it the first basement without any issues. He took the cage out of his expanded rucksack that he had picked up at a pet shop and enchanted.

The map said that Pettigrew was just outside the kitchens.

Harry made his way past the kitchens to where he knew the private stores of one greasy potions master were. The charms and locking spells were impressive, but Hermione had found all these and taught him how to cast and undo them. The two special ones were that of a certain Half-blood Prince that he knew all to well.

It didn't take him long to get through the charms.

He was just lucky that wards could not be setup in the castle unless the headmaster allowed it and Dumbledore was too much of a control freak to allow anyone to setup things he could not easily get through himself.

It took Harry a few minutes to find the latch to the second room. A few minutes more to find two vials of veritaserum, a few bottles of essence of dittany, some polyjuice potion and a few wood sharpening potions. He jammed them all into his rucksack. Then he grabbed as much as he could of the standard and much rarer potion ingredients he recognized he might need.

Snape may have really been working for them, but he was still a git that made Harry's life hell.

When he left, he made sure all the charms were back in place, then went back up towards the kitchens. He was already in the school too long, but needed the potions and Pettigrew.

Looking around, it took him a few minutes to find a hole in the wall just outside the kitchens. He had avoided using any magic until now just in case that was how Dumbledore knew where people were. Crouching down, he couldn't see anything into the dark hole.

He checked the map one more time. No one was out of their offices beds or pacing anywhere.

Risking it, he took out his new wand, slipped out of his cloak. Placing the cage down, he made sure the door was open and in the direct line of the hole and his wand. After letting out a calming breath, he cast a silent accio. There was a squeak, that turned into frantic rat screams as the Animagus came crashing out of the hole and into the cage.

It was a lot louder than he had intended. A quick stunner silenced Pettigrew. He slammed the cage door shut, put the strongest locking charm on it he could, the dissolusioned the whole thing. In less than thirty seconds he was already on his way to the stairs back to the entry hall.

He hastily put the cage into the expanded rucksack.

He had hoped that he had gotten out without an issue, except that a gleeful Peeves was zooming down the main stairs and towards the kitchens. "Peevsey's hears trouble. Peevey's making it worse," the poltergeist gleefully sing songed as he zoomed down. Harry pressed himself against he wall of the stairwell, hoping the poltergeist wouldn't see him.

It was just enough to have the poltergeist pass him.

Harry didn't wait. He took off as fast as he could to get back to the humped back witch. Knowing Peeves, he would have half the teachers up in minutes.

He didn't start breathing normally again until the humped back witch silently closed behind him.

He wasn't out of the woods yet, but he close.

Once in the basement of Honeydukes, he left a few galleons before taking a few bars of chocolate then made sure the door of the shop was locked behind him. The money was far more than the chocolate bars were worth, but using the passage way was worth Pettigrew's weight in gold.

"Me and you are going to have a long talk, Pettigrew, before I had you over to the ministry," Harry said, hefting the rucksack back onto his shoulders and then disappearing with a soft crack.

-oOo-

May 21, 1994

Westfield, England

Harry tapped on the cage.

The rat had slept all night and now much of the day. After his late night tryst, Harry had needed some sleep and food before he interrogated the man. He also had needed some time to brew after finding somewhere that no one would interrupt them. Thus, they were in an abandoned barn that Hermione, Ron and him had hidden in for a few days last November. With all the standard wards up, anything short of the taboo would take anyone days to locate the place and hours to break in.

Plenty of time to do what he wanted.

The rat started, looked around, and then started to panic. Harry lowered his face down to the cage. "Hello, Peter Pettigrew."

The rat suddenly stopped. It looked over its shoulder to Harry. Something about Harry's demeanor had the rat shaking. Harry had many reasons to hate this man, and was sure that his features and magic were telegraphing his hatred for the Animagus.

"Do you know who I am?"

The rat squeaked, then scurried to the door of the cage. It desperately tried to undo the latch.

Harry had a rather nasty grin. "That won't work, Peter. Do you think I would be stupid enough to leave the cage unlocked or unenchanted. I would be interested to see what would happen if you tried to change back while inside something charms to be unbreakable. Should we try?"

The rat vigorously shook its head, then ran to the far side of the cage.

Feeling he had played with the man enough, he stun the rat. Opening the cage, he levitate the Animagus to a chair, then reversed the transformation. He snarled at the disgusting fat man with rat like features to his face. Only through shear will power did he not put a drilling hex thru the man's forehead.

After letting out a long breath, he bound Pettigrew with conjured ropes. Pulling the man's hair, he lifted his head so his mouth opened. Harry dumped a vial full of a green potion into the man's mouth before silently casting rennervate.

Forcing the man's mouth closed. Pettigrew woke up and involuntary swallowed a large dose of the potion before sputtering and spitting out the rest that had been in his mouth. Harry didn't really worry since he had given the man a triple dose. Hopefully that wouldn't be fatal.

Pettigrew started to panic as he realized he was bound.

"That will do nothing," Harry said in a very cold voice.

Pettigrew stopped, then lowly looked up to Harry. The man blanched. His face lost much of the ruddy appearance Harry thought it had gone as white as a sheet. The man's eyes bulged open. "James?"

Harry grinned. "Try his son."

"But… but… Harry is only thirteen and…"

"And like half my size? Yeah, I know."

The man frantically tried to get out of the roped.

"You won't be able to escape and you can't turn into a rat," Harry told him.

Pettigrew stopped. He was shaking now. "What… what do you mean?"

Harry shrugged. "There is a rather useful potion. Did you know that the Potter's are known to be Animagus? It appears most of my ancestors were, and they had learned a lot about the transformation. I bet that you and the others used a potion that my dad gave you to find your animal. Didn't you?"

Pettigrew looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Did my day also tell you there is a potion to keep someone from turning? I bet he didn't by the way you look," Harry casually said. He then took out a small vial with a dropper and filled with a clear liquid. "My family talents lay mostly in transfiguration, but were no slouches in potion making. I may not have had time to make this, but apparently my family was also filled with really talented potioneers. The veritasurem potion was invested by one of my ancestors. Did you know that?"

"You can… can't. It's illegal. I'm a pure blood," Pettigrew stammered.

Harry grinned. "That is the interesting thing about legality. You have to be caught for it to be illegal. But you would know all about not being caught, wouldn't you?"

Pettigrew swallowed.

"You can't be Harry Potter," Pettigrew said.

Harry lifted his fringe. Since being hit by the killing curse again, it had turned into just a very faint white line, but it was still visible. "Fate decided I could go back in time. Though, you are right. I'm not Harry Potter."

Pettigrew looked a little confused. "But you look…"

"Oh, I was Harry Potter. Don't get mistaken there. I have not taken on a new name, but you don't really need to know that. Now, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?" Harry dangled the bottle before the man.

"You can't!"

Harry sighed. He really didn't enjoy being mean and cruel, but the last few years had had shown him that you needed to be at times. He roughly grabbed the man's chin. Pettigrew was determinetly keeping his mouth shut. Harry stopped on his feet as hard as he could. Pettigrew screamed and Harry's wand cast a body bind.

With his mouth stuck open, the man's eye franctically moving around in his head, Harry unstoppered the bottle then put four drops of veritaserum on to the man's tongue. It look about five seconds before the eyes stilled. Once satisfied the man was under the calming and mind altering concoction, Harry released him from the spell.

"Why did you sell out my parents to Voldemort?"

Pettigrew answered in the monotone Harry had come to associate with the potion. "The Dark Lord was powerful. Our friends were dying and Lucius Malfoy found out where my mother was. If I sold Lily and James out to the Dark Lord then I would live and my mother would be left alone."

Harry's nostrils flared. He could understand Pettigrew's reasoning, but he would never have sold out his friends.

"Where is Voldemort?"

"I don't know," Pettigrew said.

Harry's eyes narrowed. What had Hermione said? Veritaserum only requires the person to answer truthfully. "Where do you think Voldemort is?"

"There are rumours of an evil spirit in the woods of Albania. There are also stories of a great evil in eastern Russia and in the mountains of Pakistan," Pettigrew replied.

Well, fuck! Though, Albania was the most likely place. There were ties there that he knew about.

"Do you have anything from my parents, Voldemort or Sirius Black?"

"I have the Dark Lords wand and a dagger he had on him the light Harry Potter destroyed him."

Harry pursed his lips. He really wanted to know how Voldemort got his families grimoire. "Did you ever take anything from my parents or Sirius Black?"

"I took many books and items from Potter manor after it was destroyed by the Dark Lord. I have three of the journals we all made while in Hogwarts. I stole more than two hundred galleons from Padfoot and Prongs. I stole a bra and three knickers from Lily…"

"That's enough," Harry said, feeling disgusted. "Where is everything?"

"I gave all the books from Potter manor to the Dark Lord. The journals, the Dark Lord's wand and the dagger are hidden in a chest in the yard at my mother's old house. I sold everything else," Pettigrew told him.

Harry was on the verge of loosing it. "When were my grandparent murdered?"

"Fleamont and Euphemia Potter were killed in April of nineteen seventy-seven. Garret and Rose Evans were killed in May of nineteen-seventy-seven."

Harry had never known that. He had a sinking suspicion though. "Did you sell them out?"

"Yes."

The floor felt like it was dropping out from beneath him. They were all sixteen in nineteen-seventy-seven. "When did you join Voldemort?"

"Easter of nineteen-seventy-seven."

FOUR YEARS! This bastard was a spy for four years and had killed all his family! The man's first job must have been selling out Harry's grandparents! Wormtail was a fitting name.

Rage didn't begin to describe what he was feeling.

He pushed it down. There were more important things than to get his revenge at this second.

It took him a few minutes to calm enough to focus again.

"Who did you sell out to Voldemort?"

"Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, Garret and Rose Evans, Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, William Longbottom, the McKinnon family and James and Lily Potter," Pettigrew replied.

Harry had heard of the Prewitt twins, but not Willam Longbottom and only a vague recollection of someone mentioning the McKinnons. What disturbed him the most was that he had sold out the entire family.

Not sure what else to ask, Harry frowned. The potion should last another fifteen minutes or so. Looking to around, his eyes fell on his rucksack. "Did you steal things from other families?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"The family grimoire's of the Potters, Prewitts and McKinnens. Many other books and items from their houses…" Pettigrew went on for nearly ten minutes describing what he had done and answering Harry on any specifics.

When done, he had a much better understanding of what Voldemort had squirrelled away in his vault. He doubted that Pettigrew was Voldemort's only minion to do so, but many of the items were family heirlooms or books from other families. Harry would have to go through them all and return those to any families that still had living relatives. As for the others, he might need them.

The heirlooms he would do the same. He would have to ask the goblins if they could identify who they belonged to.

Satisfied that he got what he could, Harry stunned Pettigrew to figure out what to do next. He didn't really trust the DMLE or the ministry. Not with Fudge, Umbridge and Malfoy crawling all over it. Pettigrew had to go to trial though and Sirius had to be freed.

Perhaps next he should look for Sirius?

Harry didn't trust the man around Pettigrew though.

He wished the man could turn back, but the anti-animagus potion would take a week or more to work out of his system and he didn't trust himself enough to brew an antidote. He would have to look through the Potter grimoire to find it. He had only copied the potion while hiding the books, not wanting to lose them if he had been caught.

"Well fuck. I'm have to go hunt a grim," he muttered.

Harry made sure that Pettigrew was stunned again. He found himself wishing he had a draught of the living dead. Instead he would have to trust in the potion and the bindings. Harry made sure that each wrist and ankle were individually tied up before making sure the man was then bound with ropes from neck to ankles. It was be uncomfortable as hell before Harry returned, but it should keep the man here. Especially without a wand.

He made sure there was nothing left to identify him if Pettigrew escaped or was found before walking out of the barn and ensuring every obscuring and locking spell he knew was on the building.