Chapter 2 Changes and Plans

It had been a month since the scene at the bank and Rita did run an article on how the Golden Trio was banned from Gringotts. Only Harry was accused of using Dark magic to break into the bank and steal from the goblins, which was true, but she didn't know that. The fact that it had to be done to stop the war was conveniently not mentioned, Skeeter more than likely knew exactly why the Golden Trio robbed Gringotts. She wrote that Ron was probably threatened or controlled by the new Dark Lord rising. The vindictive bitch called Hermione a useless Muggle-born who was easily swayed by Harry Potter and brushed her off as unimportant. The goblins covered their arses by not mentioning exactly how Harry had accomplished the heist, which was good because he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban for using the Imperius Curse.

The dark-haired teen now faced a problem; he had a bit of Muggle money, and loads of wizarding. But he would soon run out of pounds and had no way of exchanging galleons. The goblins knew who Kreacher belonged to, so that was out. His friends were still in the same plights they were a month ago. He'd have to figure out how to get money soon. He knew the galleons were enchanted so you could not melt them down. Besides, flooding the market with gold would only reduce its value.

In the past month he went to dinner at the Burrow, one time. Molly cried the entire time and George's false happiness was grating, even if Harry understood it was for Mrs. Weasley's sake. Ginny took Harry aside and informed him that she was seeing Dean Thomas again, because she felt he needed her more after what he suffered the past year. Harry was conflicted on how that made him feel, but nodded his understanding because it was her life. He left that dinner feeling worse than when he had arrived, and declined all invitations that followed.

Harry had invited Ron and Hermione to help him sort everything he got from the vaults. Hermione was busy trying to find a way to get her parents back and catching up on a year of missed school, so she declined, but stated she wanted to know what was there when he was done. Ron came over once, but an argument ensued about Harry's newfound wealth, which ended with the redhead storming out in a fit of jealousy. So Harry was left with only Kreacher for help.

There were many interesting things to be found in his pocketspace. There were books on subjects Harry had never even heard of. Like Dimensional Travel or Time Warping, and others on wards and inventions. Gizmos and trinkets were aplenty, though Harry was going to have to research on exactly what they did. Thank Merlin, there were hundreds of books and journals to explain it all.

One of the families— the Frostwells— were inventors. They came up with a way to get Muggle electronics to not only work with magic, but to excel. The last member of that family left a journal on his inventions: it listed all of his discoveries and that he was about to publish when the second war with Voldemort broke out. Since he was a Half-blood, he was scared that he wouldn't survive the second coming of the Dark Lord. He noted in the journal that he was going to leave his vault to the Boy Who Lived, in hopes that Harry could use his inventions and theories to make the wizarding world a better place. The teen was disappointed that he couldn't make the man's last wish come true, at least not in this time. Harry damned Rita to the deepest pits of hell, but then a smirk came over his face. If he read some of this correctly then it might be useful for his revenge.

Harry didn't understand much of the inventions, so he would have to take himself to a bookstore and get every idiot's guide to electronics he could find. He was thankful that all the magical books were found among the inventory.

Another family— the Stonewalls— were the ones looking into traveling outside this world into the next or back in time. That's where Harry started making his plans, they were only tentative now, but it was a start. When he went to the Muggle bookstore he'd make sure to load up on fantasy novels that depicted those subjects. He figured it wouldn't hurt to get more perspectives.

The last vault left to him, by the Moreovers, contained only coins and a few family heirlooms. It saddened Harry that he couldn't return them to anyone, since the family had been wiped out during the last two wars.

The stuff from the Black vault was Dark; there were no ifs, ands or buts about it. Harry made sure to scan each and every item before he touched it, all the while thanking Hermione for teaching him the spells when they were on the run. Anything that was too Dark, he had Kreacher sell in Knockturn Alley. The rest he set aside to look at later as they might be useful. He did find a letter addressed to him with a vial of blood. The letter read:

Hey Pup,

I left this to you in case I didn't make it. The vial of blood is to be used with a potion to make you a closer member of the Black family. You can find the receipt for the potion in the book titled 'Blood Magic, Make It Work For You', which is in Grimmauld Place's Library. You'd still be a Potter, but since your grandmother was a Black this'll bring your heritage closer to be the head of the Black family, so you will be more of a brother or first cousin. I don't want the Malfoys to inherit the family name. So take the vial and use it. I was going to explain all of this to you this summer, but since you're reading this that didn't happen.

Talk to Moony, he'll know my plans and help you make the adoption potion. I know your grades in that subject (probably Snivellus' fault) and you're going to need help. Do this as quickly as you can, so that you don't lose the inheritance.

If you decide not to do this, I'm declaring the Black name dead. It is stipulated in my will; the Malfoys will try and fight for the name either way. I hope you do the adoption and not let my family name die. The choice is yours.

I hope that I went out with a bang, but I am sorry to have left you alone. Take care, Pup, and remember the good times.

Padfoot

Well, that didn't work. But, I think this will help my plans nicely, Harry thought as he reread the short letter. He still missed his godfather, and now reading this he realized just how much that man was doing behind the scenes. The teen vowed to do this request as soon as he could get the ingredients. Maybe he'd have Kreacher buy them in Knockturn Alley. It was a good thing that the goblins made him clear out the vault before the Malfoys could recover their place in society and try and take it from him. He doubted they would fight for the name now that there was no money attached to it, though there was still power behind it. Who knows, Harry didn't care either way, he would do this because it was the last wish of his godfather.

The Potter vault yielded things from past Potters, like journals and old schoolbooks, some with notes in the margins. Harry had spent a few mournful days reading the diaries. He learned a lot about his parents and their school days. He was pissed that such a great family was now fallen. He was the last Potter and felt he had let his family down. He had been tempted to call the shades of his parents to apologize to them. However, he was worried they might berate him for letting the family name be ruined, even if they had praised him the last time he summoned them.

A few days later, Harry was spending the last of his Muggle money at a bookstore. He was on his way home and was just completing his Disapparition when he was hit with a killing curse. His body landed right outside the house. Kreacher seeing his Master's corpse quickly levitated it into the parlor. The poor house elf grieved over his kind Master. No one since Master Regulus had ever treated Kreacher with kindness, until this teen came along. It was the destruction of the horcrux that brought the two to an understanding. Now Kreacher was alone again.

Harry, meanwhile, was in an empty grey space. He had the feeling that he was dead and was remorseful that he couldn't carry out his plans to make the wizarding world pay or help those loved ones that he could. He was wondering why he wasn't moving on, when a dark cloaked being appeared. The figure in front of Harry wore a black hooded cloak that covered all but his face and hands, as it was the hood of the cloak cast shadow on that very gaunt and pale face. Its hands were ghostly white and very thin. It was tall, very tall, and skinny. Harry was kind of glad it wasn't the skeletal being that was depicted in the books—just a very dead looking man, like a centuries old vampire.

"Master," the cloaked man rasped, "I was not expecting to see you so soon." The entity waved his hand and two chairs appeared.

"Let me guess, you're Death," Harry said calmly, "and I'm dead. I do have to wonder if it was a Death Eater or one of the wizarding sheep bent on destroying the new Dark Lord. I guess it really doesn't matter, I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. I was hoping for later, but, here I am, maybe I can finally rest. Don't you have a book or something that tells you when people are going to die?" He took one of the chairs and waited for the being to explain.

"Yes, I am Death. No, I do not have such an item," were the succinct answers, and the deity took the other chair. "However, you cannot die. You will rejoin your body in a few minutes. I brought you here, because I would like to explain the Hallows and what they can do to further assist your plans. Yes, I know all about them, and I agree to what must be done. I feel you can do wonders, for you, your lost loved ones and your family, should you complete them."

"That is upsetting, but at least I can still get my revenge," the dark-haired teen said, he didn't seem to feel emotions here; he'd have to look into that when he got back. He settled back on his chair and then waited quietly for Death to finish.

"I cannot give you all of the answers; however, I can tell you that you are headed in the correct direction. Use the wand to complete your final task. It has properties that you will need. Use the ring to get answers from those that have passed on. Use the cloak to hide from your enemies, so that we will not meet again anytime soon. You have these tools; you should utilize them to help you along." Death chastised, not understanding why the young man in front of him didn't use the Deathly Hallows to their fullest extent.

Harry nodded his head, and berated himself for putting the most powerful magical objects away and forgetting about them. "Can you talk to me anytime, or do I have to die to see you?" he inquired.

"I cannot interact with the living," Death answered. "I belong in the Land of the Dead."

"So I'd have to die, figures," the teen nodded in understanding, nothing in his life was ever easy. He would have to get some philosophy books on death, since it seemed the being in front of him was limited in what it could tell him.

"It will also do you well to reflect on your life thus far, and note who did and didn't do the things you required as a child in their care," Death evasively hinted.

"I've been doing that, kinda. I mean, I know that most of the crap that I was put through at Hogwarts should've never happened. I'll think more on it, but it makes me mad when I do, so I try and forget all that shite," Harry said with a shake of his head.

Death nodded in understanding. "One last thing, if you do not want to create a paradox you will need to use the vial your godfather left you," the deity reminded his young master.

"Yeah," Harry said sheepishly, he hadn't so much as forgotten about it, he just got caught up in making his plans. "I'll get to that first thing," he said decisively.

"It is time for you to return, Master," Death said as he stood. "Though you are the Master of the Hallows, you do not belong in this realm. Read my tale again and research all you can. We will meet again."

"I'd say it was nice to meet you, but I'm kinda disappointed that I'll never join my family," Harry said as he too stood. The chairs disappeared and Harry had one more question to ask. "Speaking of my family, do you have any idea how they're reacting to what's going on now?"

"I can tell you that should you wish to talk to them, they will come joyfully," Death answered with a bow, and then with a sweeping motion of his arm, he flung Harry's soul back into his body.

Harry sat up with a gasp, making Kreacher scream and topple over. "Sorry, Kreacher, looks like you're stuck with me until I either leave or you die," Harry said to the scared house elf. He wondered if he could bring the loyal house elf with him when he left. He would have to experiment on a few things first. Then again having two Kreachers in the same timeline would cause a paradox and he didn't know if he could change a house elf enough to not cause one.

Harry sat the elf down and explained the experience he just had, and Kreacher was soon calmed and was overjoyed that his Master couldn't die. Hopefully that meant he would never be alone.

"Did you grab the bags I had when you brought me in?" Harry asked bringing the house elf's attention back to him.

"Yes, Master Harry, Kreacher is not leaving Master's things on the sidewalk," the old house elf answered. He then pointed to the bags on side table.

"Thanks, Kreacher, you're the best." Harry patted the tiny being on the back. He too was glad they had put their differences aside and now worked together. It was only after he went over the times that the necklace horcrux affected him and his friends that he realized it probably did the same for the house elf.

"Kreacher, did you get the ingredients for the adoption potion?" Harry asked as he looked through the bags to make sure everything was there.

"Yes, Master Harry, Kreacher is getting them this morning," the house elf said and scurried away to get them.

Harry watched him go and started defining his plans. He still needed to find a way to get his money switched over. He ran all of his friends and acquaintances through his mind and came up short on who was in a position to help. Most of the Half-bloods and Muggle-borns were still struggling to find a foothold in the war-torn society. Maybe he could ask Kingsley, then again since the man was Minister now he might be a bit busy. McGonagall was working hard to get Hogwarts repaired and staffed so it could be ready for the new school year. As much as he loved Hagrid, he couldn't be trusted to keep his mouth shut on who he would be doing the errand for. Mundungus was a tempting thought, though that man would want a hefty fee. He'd have to think on that one, and if he couldn't find anyone else there were loads of things from the vaults that thief would want.

Kreacher popped back into the room, breaking Harry from his mussing. "Kreacher had Master's things," the old being said as he handed a bag to the young man.

"Thanks. Why don't you take the rest of the day off?" Harry suggested to the tired house elf. Kreacher had been working hard to get Grimmuald Place back to the beauty it once was, even taking that portrait of Mrs. Black off the wall. That took a bit of convincing, but Harry finally used the fact that he was master of the house and it was done. That and the old house elf had been helping him sort through the vault items. Now the poor creature looked drained.

"As Master orders," Kreacher said and popped away.

Harry went to the kitchen and summoned the vial, the book and his cauldron from his pocketspace. He then set about making the potion. It was as difficult as Sirius warned, but what his godfather didn't know is that Harry had studied potions on his own, knowing that that greasy git of a Potions Master would never teach or grade him fairly. The Half-blood Prince's book helped a lot. He had retrieved it after making his friends think it was hidden. There was no way he was going to let go of such a valuable resource.

After hours of chopping, stewing and stirring – grimacing the entire time knowing he was going to have to drink the vile concoction— the potion was done. Taking a deep breath he swallowed it in one go. He was right, it was awful and it took every bit of willpower to not throw up.

According to the instructions, Harry now needed to go to bed, so that the changes could take place in his sleep. So he cleaned up his mess and took himself up the stairs to Sirius' old room. He changed into pajamas and put aside his glasses. Laid down on the bed and went right to sleep.

During the night he dreamed a very vivid dream. He saw his parents and Sirius waving at him from across a raging river. They were making motions for him to join them. The teen wanted to comply, so he attempted to build a bridge, but the water swept it away. He tried to fly over on his broom, but the wind kept blowing him back. He attempted to Apparate, but landed in the middle of the river. The currents pulled him away from his family.

Harry woke with tears streaming down his face and his shoulders shaking with grief. He realized just what being the Master of Death meant. Oh, he understood before, but with this dream it was more of a reality. He would never join anyone in the afterlife. Because he would never die, all his friends would be taking from him in time. He now had a choice to make, either relish the time he had with them or seclude himself even further and save himself the pain. He wasn't about to make that decision after waking up from such a traumatic dream.

After taking many deep breaths, to calm himself and wake up more, Harry remembered what he did the night before and rushed to the mirror to see the changes. His hair was darker, before it had been black with red highlights, now it was a shade of black that reflected blue in the light. It was silkier, yet still had that just mussed look, just not as bad. His eyes were the same, and now he could see without his glasses. He face was leaner, the cheekbones were higher and the chin more pointed, making his jaw less square. His body was the same, he didn't gain any height. He looked a lot like Sirius, but with his dad's ears and his mother's eyes. He was thankful that there were still Potter traits.

The now darker-haired teen felt a bit more powerful, like something was added to his magic. Not overly so, but it could be the Black family magic. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that, knowing the Blacks point of view he had to wonder if this could affect him negatively. He remembered the Potter family magic coming to him when he turned of age, it didn't seem to affect his thinking, so he shrugged off the new magic as unimportant and went back to his appearance.

The changes were enough that he could probably walk down Diagon Alley and no one would know who he was (not that he wanted to test that theory on Gringotts), but to do that he would need a name. So he took himself to the library and researched star names, wanting to keep the Black tradition. It only took a half an hour to come up with the name Hydrus Black, he felt a water snake was a good description (He found out after his first death that he was still a parselmouth). The young man figured that when he completed his plans, he could pass himself off as Sirius' cousin. He would need to get some paperwork for his new identity, maybe Mundungus would come in handy after all. The petty thief would know shady characters.

With that thought in mind, the now named Hydrus, sent out a letter to the man. In it he asked that Fletcher come to Grimmauld Place and that the rewards would be worth it, if he agreed to do what was asked of him. Hydrus had Kreacher deliver the letter, as he had not replaced Hedwig, and probably never would.

Hydrus then set about going through the rest of his inventory, shifting what he needed first and putting the rest in his pocketspace. Two hours later Mundungus appeared at the door, Kreacher showed him to the parlor.

"Hello, Mundungus," the dark-haired wizard said as he stood to greet the thief. The man was just as vile looking and smelly as he had always been. Hydrus wondered if he ever took a bath.

"Who are ya? And where is 'arry Potter?" the bedraggled man asked as he pulled his wand.

"I'm shocked you don't recognize me, Fletcher. After all, your negligence almost had my soul sucked out," the immortal said in a mocking tone. "Something about cauldrons, if I remember correctly."

"'arry?" the astounded man exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in the teen's new look. His hand that held his wand dropped to his side.

"In the flesh, so to speak," the new Black stated. He then waved to an empty chair and invited the man to sit.

"What 'appened ter you? Thee look like Sirius, but yew still 'ave yaaahr mum's eyes," the confused man stated after he took the offered chair, all but flopping down in his shock. He pulled his pipe from his battered coat, but didn't light it after Hydrus shot him a warning look.

"That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. First I need a vow from you, not to say anything that we discuss and that you'll do the things I ask— without trickery or questions," the new Black demanded. His piercing eyes boring into the not so trustworthy man in front of him. If Mundungus didn't give the vow, Hydrus had no problem wiping the memory from him.

"Why?" Fletcher asked, now wary of the teen he always thought of as a pushover.

"Don't be stupid, I know you read the Prophet and keep up on gossip, so you know that I need someone to run some errands for me, and possibly do some not quite legal things," he snapped. "Why else would I invite you into my home, after everything you did to me and Sirius?"

"Alright, 'arry, I'll take yaaahr vow, but i' is gon'a cost you," the greedy man said, holding up his hands in compliance. He then placed his unlit pipe back in his jacket.

"First your vow, then I'll explain what I need from you and then we'll talk about your pay," the dark-haired teen explained as he settled back into his chair.

"I, Mundungus Arabus Fletcher, do hereby swear on my life and magic that I will keep the secrets of Harry James Potter until such time as he relieves me of said vow. I also vow to run his errands without deceit, and to comply with our agreement," the dumpy man incanted without his normal lazy accent, holding his wand up near his head. When the last word was spoken there was a blue light that surrounded him and sealed his promise to his magic.

Hydrus nodded and then explained what he needed from the thief. It took about twenty minutes of talking to go over the things that were necessary.

Fletcher listened; his eyes alight with greed at the payments the young man was offering. "Alright… 'ydrus, I'll see what I can do. Which do yew wan' first, da paperwork awer yaaahr money switched?" he asked when the teen finished.

"Money first, I think," the dark-haired wizard said rubbing his chin in thought. He really needed to get some more books from the Muggle world if he was going to study what he needed to know. The paperwork wasn't really needed right away, besides, it was for after his plans took effect. With magic he could live off the grid, so to speak.

"Sure, give me what yew wan' ter exchange, plus me fee, an' I'll be back in an 'aaahr."

The teen nodded an hour was reasonable. "I have to go and get it, stay here and keep your greedy hands off my stuff. Kreacher is watching you," Hydrus warned as he got up to leave the room, nodding to his house elf. The thief grumbled, but the teen ignored him. He went to the kitchen, closed the door and put a warning ward over it. He summoned 1,030 galleons out of his pocketspace. It piled on the table in front of him. He took a bag, which he finally got extended, and spelled the gold to it. The teen then took down his ward and joined his new partner in crime. "Here, remember you only get three percent," he said as he handed the man the bag.

"I remember. I'll be back soon." Mundungus took the bag and left the house.

The younger wizard went back to the kitchen and took out his list that he started a month ago. He looked over what he needed to do now. With the conversation with Death and his new face, he could put more ideas into action. While he waited for Fletcher, he did as Death had suggested and reread the tale of the Deathly Hallows. More plans of revenge came from that.

After he finished the tale, he looked at his list once again. First he needed to research electronics, if the books he got from the Frostwell vault were correct he could have a computer set up here in no time. Not only that, but it could be spelled to receive information straight from books. However, it took more than just knowing the words; you had to know Runes and Arithmancy.

Hydrus resigned himself to a lot of studying, mourning the fact that Hermione was going back to Hogwarts and wouldn't be able to help him. That and he was still unsure as to whether or not to include his friends in his plans, they would try and stop him. If he had Hermione do the research for him, she'd figure out what he was up to pretty damn quick. No, if he was going to pull this off he needed to do his own work. The books he got, just before his second death, were going to help with that.

The young man let his mind drift for a minute, everyone Hydrus knew would be returning to the school, except him. He had already talked to McGonagall about it a week ago, and informed her there was no way in hell he was going through all the gossip and mistrust again. And since she never helped in the past he damn sure didn't trust her to help now. She was quite put out that one of her favorite students thought so lowly of her, but she had to admit the entire Hogwarts staff had let their Savior down. Blast Dumbledore and his orders.

During that talk, he did convince the Headmistress to fix the Sorting Hat. Now the hat looked like it had when it was first designed. The patches and frays were gone, and the grateful relic stood tall and proud. With the encrusted dirt gone the original colors now came through. Its cone was a dark purple, while the rim was a muted black. The hat thanked the teen profusely.

Shaking himself out of his musings, he went back to his list. The second thing he had to do was figure out how to make money. He had plenty in his pocketspace, but he also wanted to make sure it never ran out. If he was going to live forever, then he was going to need more. So he noted down that research was needed for the stock markets and sporting events for the last twenty years. He was also going to have to come up with a way to appear to age, fake his death, and then come back as a cousin or son or something. Maybe he could talk to a friendly vampire; he remembered the one from Slughorn's party, Sanguini. He might write to him or his human companion, Eldred Worple.

Another thing he needed to do was to get to WWW's and buy five of everything George had in stock. If he was going to go back in time then he needed to make sure that there was fun involved. And WWW products were the best for that, plus, there were items that could confuse an enemy so you could get away.

Next item in his plan was to study the books on time travel, the ones from the vaults were all theory, he figured with those and the Muggle fantasy books, and he would understand how it worked. That was for a later time though.

The last thing on his list was to understand how to overcome his battered emotions. If he was going to do any good he needed to be in more control. Self-help books can only take you so far, maybe he would need to seek professional help.

With all of this in mind, Hydrus went to the library and set up an area to get started. Now that he thought about it he was glad that everyone would be returning to Hogwarts, it would give him time to deal with all that Death told him and come to a decision on how to make them understand what he didn't completely understand. Since there were only a few weeks left until Hogwarts reopened, he would need to invite Ron and Hermione over. However, was he willing to let them know about his new look, or should he glamor himself back to the old one? Given the fact that they would not be joining him on his journey it might be best to lie.

Fletcher showed up an hour later with good amount of Muggle money. The younger wizard thanked him for his service and showed him the door. He told the petty thief that he should return with the paperwork within the month.

Taking himself back to the library, he pulled all books on electronics and the Frostwell journals, from his pocketspace and started reading and taking notes. He would get that computer up and running soon. Hydrus knew he wasn't a quick study, so it will probably take years to implement his plans, but he was determined to make sure they came to pass. Time was on his side.