How I spent my summer vacation

As Harry stepped outside #4, he was still marvelling over the fact that he and his aunt had had a somewhat civilised conversation. For the first time in his life she had talked to him like he was a human being with feelings, instead of a thing she had to deal with.

After doing a quick check to make sure there were no watchers magical or otherwise, Harry vanished from sight. He reappeared a moment later in an out of the way corner of King's Cross Station.

It was rush hour, so no one paid much attention to the slender young man in jeans as he headed for the loo. Nor did they pay any attention to a man with close-cropped, brown hair, hazel green eyes and wearing a business suit who came out a few minutes later.

Since he intended to eventually disappear off the wizarding world's radar, Harry knew he was going to need to open an account in a regular bank. He had decided on Barclays because they were supposed to have branches in most countries and the larger cities there.

As he stepped out of King's Cross station, Harry added a note to his mental list of things to do, about seeing if Gringotts could transfer monies directly to the account and what information they would need to affect the transfer.

Before going into Barclays, Harry got out his new wallet and made sure the initial deposit was there and that the ID he had duplicated from Vernon's wallet now matched his current appearance, instead of the one he originally intended to use. He doubted that Granger or the Weasleys had believed his denial about not being Harry Potter, given that Dumbledork had been with him. This particular glamour was probably far safer, at least for now. The face wasn't quite so memorable as the other had been. He was keeping the name though. It had been a spur of the moment thing that night when he gave it to Tom at the Leaky Cauldron, but he liked it and in a way he felt the last year of his life had been comparable to that of the main character in the Count of Monte Cristo novel.

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#4 Privet Drive

Wiping her hands on a dishtowel Petunia went to the front door. She hoped that whoever it was at her door this wasn't going to take long, because she still had breakfast dishes to finish.

There were four people, two men and two women, at the door all of whom looked vaguely familiar. Three of them had bright red hair while the fourth had bushy brown hair.

Before she could say a word, the older red headed man introduced himself. "Hello Mrs. Dursley. I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Arthur Weasley."

The name helped Petunia place where she'd seen the man. It had been here a couple of years ago when one of his horrible children cast a spell on her precious Dudley. She was grateful that her husband and son were out of the house and a quick glance at the sitting room told her that Marge wasn't in there. She must have gone back up to her room, even though Petunia had told her that the boy was most likely going to be gone all day. Petunia was grateful for that, because the last thing Marge needed was another shock. That might kill her and that would upset Vernon. She was also grateful that her nephew wasn't going to force her to be polite to these people. He had made it quite clear that morning those freaks could drop straight into hell and he wouldn't have cared.

Petunia didn't invite them in. "What do you want?"

"May we speak with Harry please?" The bushy haired young woman asked.

"He's not here. He left a couple of hours ago and didn't say where he was going or when he would be back." Petunia told them then started to close the door.

The older red headed woman stepped forward and put her foot in the door to prevent it from closing and asked. "Aren't you the least bit concerned about where your nephew has gone or what he might be doing? I mean anything could happen to him."

Opening the door a little wider, Petunia glared at the woman "No. I haven't worried about what happens to that little freak for almost sixteen years and I'm not about to start now. Besides, from what I saw last night, a person would have to be an idiot to want to attack him. Now, if you are quite through wasting my time..."

"Can we come in and wait for Harry?" The red headed young man asked.

Just how stupid were these freaks? Petunia asked sharply, "Do you not understand English? I told you I don't know when he'll be back, nor do I care. Nor do I want your kind cluttering up my sitting room."

Petunia glared at the foot that was still in the doorway and added, "Now if you are quite through, I have things I need to do and you are keeping me from them."

The older woman reluctantly withdrew her foot, when she saw she would get nowhere with Petunia.

Petunia slammed it with a great deal of satisfaction and headed back to the kitchen. It felt so good to put them in their place and know they couldn't do anything about it.

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Harry took a bite out of his burger, before making another note in the multi-subject notebook he had purchased from a stationary store. He was recording all the thoughts and questions he had come up with during his time in Azkaban, trying to come up with a cohesive list of evidence before he spoke to a lawyer about his charges.

So far his day had been very successful. He now had a bank account that he would be adding to slowly over the next month or so, so it wouldn't attract the attention of the authorities, if he couldn't get regular transfers made by Gringotts over the next year. He debated for a moment whether or not to keep his accounts at Gringotts and just have them make regular transfers to the Barclays account, but decided he would have to wait to see what the Inheritance Ritual said he had before making up his mind about that.

He made a note in a different section of his notebook to see if Gringotts could recommend a lawyer who wasn't afraid of Dumbledore or the Ministry that he could speak to. He also added a note to ask them about how he could get access to his parent's will, since he had never seen it.

Once he had finished his lunch, Harry transfigured the suit he had been wearing into a pair of jeans and a comfortable shirt, before headed toward Tottenham Court Road. He spent a good portion of the afternoon wandering through the bookstores on Tottenham Court Road.

As he stepped out of the last bookstore on the road with a few more books to add to his new collection Harry shrunk the new books and slid them into the canvas carryall he had transfigured out of a plastic bag from one of the bookstores then had a brief debate with himself. He needed to go back by Gringotts to complete the Ritual and get answers to his other questions. However he was fairly certain that the wizarding world was still celebrating the destruction of Voldemort, not caring that their saviour hadn't done it for them. He'd done it for himself, for Neville, for his parents, and for his godfather. He added Remus to that list. However, since he wanted as little contact as possible with the wizarding world, that meant he would have to wait a week or so before going back to Gringotts.

Fortunately for him, he didn't have to worry about running short of money before then. The Galleons he'd had converted had provided him with over ₤30,000 and he still had quite a bit left. He didn't have to worry about the Dursleys stealing it if they found it either. The goblin who had converted his currency had guaranteed the pouch he had purchased for a small fee could only be opened by him once it was keyed to his magical signature and it was indestructible so they wouldn't be able to tear it open either.

He still had a couple of hours though until dark and he was in no hurry to head back to the Dursleys. A glance at the window of a nearby store, containing a book labelled 'Wolves', reminded Harry of Moony and his intention of going to visit the graves of his parents and Moony. There was only one obstacle to overcome. He didn't know where Godric's Hollow was and just like apparating, he couldn't go somewhere he'd never been before. Stepping into a little alleyway and dropping the glamour, Harry decided to see if he could get himself some help.

"Dobby," he called softly, hoping the house elf would respond. He didn't know how house elf magic worked, or how the elf knew when he or she was wanted, especially if they were in another place, but he hoped Dobby could hear him.

A moment later his wish was granted as the excitable house elf appeared before him. "Master Harry, sir!" Dobby's voice sounded loud in the alley as he bounced in placed. "I is happy to see you. Iz so glad you free. Knew you is good wizard and not hurt anybody."

"Shhhh," Harry gestured for him to lower his voice. "I'm happy to see you too, Dobby. But we're in non-magical London right now so you need to keep it down, okay?"

Dobby looked around surprised. "Iz never been to muggle world before."

"Dobby, I need a favour and Dumbledore can't know anything about it." Harry got straight to the point.

"What is you wanting?" Dobby asked slightly suspicious.

"Do you know where Godric's Hollow is?"

"You is not knowing where it is?" Dobby seemed surprised.

"Nope," Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore never allowed me to visit my parent's graves and I want to see them today. And I was told Professor Lupin is buried beside them and I want to see his grave too. They are the only family I had and I need to see them. The thing is I can't go anywhere that I've never been before, so I need someone to show me where it is. Will you take me there, please Dobby?"

"Master Harry should be allowed to visit family." Dobby decided. "Dobby take."

Harry took the house elf's extended hand, and then Dobby snapped his fingers. The trip felt like a cross between a portkey and going through the floo system. Harry found it slightly nauseating, but at least he was on his feet when he got to the other end. Looking down, Harry saw that Dobby had brought him right to their graves.

"Thank you, Dobby," Harry whispered as he sank to his knees and reached out and touched the headstone that had his parent's names carved in it.

Dobby nodded, the expression on his face solemn. "Is you needing anything else, Master Harry?"

"No, Dobby, thank you. I will be able to get back to the Dursleys from here." Harry told the house elf, his attention on the headstone.

"If you is needing me, just call," Dobby told him, "and I not be telling Headmaster I be seeing you."

"Thank you again, Dobby." Harry smiled for the first time since leaving Azkaban.

Dobby nodded and disappeared, leaving Harry alone with his family.

Harry became slightly annoyed when he noticed that while there was no other grave between them, Remus' grave marker was some distance away from his parents. As if some were afraid that in death a werewolf would taint the Potters. They should be together as they were in life. There should also be a headstone for Sirius here, even though there was no body. He also noticed that on both headstones there was carved an image of a phoenix in flight. That made him angry. While he had nothing against Fawkes, he would be damned, if he were going to let the symbol for Dumbledork's group of traitors remain on either headstone.

Reaching out to the ambient magic that flowed through the graveyard, Harry transfigured the separate headstones into one large stone. Closing his eyes, and visualising the images and information he wanted on the stone, Harry let the magic flow through the tips of his fingers, brushing away the old carvings and replaced them with what he wanted there. Even though he'd done this many times before on Azkaban, it was still interesting to feel the stone shift and reform under his fingertips. As soon as he felt the new pattern firmly settle in the stone, Harry placed a charm on it to insure his changes could never be undone.

Opening his eyes, he took a look at his handiwork. All four names were now there across the top along with the birth and death information, but below that, he had grouped a wolf, a stag, and a large shaggy dog around a carved lily. No trace of the phoenix remained Below each image was a name; Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, and Lily and below the group he'd put the words. They were together in life, now they are together forever.

The sun had set before Harry finished pouring his heart out to the large silent stone and the occupants beneath it. If there had been anyone nearby he wouldn't have said half the things he did, but the magical trip wire he had set never went off, so he knew that no one had ever come near this part of the graveyard.

"I've got to go," he told the silent occupants beneath the headstone, "but I will be back. If only to let you know what happened with that fool Dumbledork."

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As soon as Harry arrived back at #4 Privet Drive, he heard a slight pop off to his right, indicating someone had apparated out.

Sighing Harry headed inside and called, "Aunt Petunia, I'm home."

Vernon came charging out of the living room and growled. "Those freaky friends of yours have been by here three or four times today."

"They are no longer my friends." Harry countered, then told him. "I heard one of them apparate out when I came in, so some of them will probably be showing up in the next hour or so. If you don't want to see or deal with them, then you might want to go out for the evening."

"There is no way in hell, I'm going to leave my home to the mercy of those freaks or you." Vernon told him.

Harry shrugged, "suit yourself. Then sit back and watch the show, if they are stupid enough to come."

Not waiting to see what Vernon decided to do, Harry headed upstairs and dumped the contents of the canvas carryall onto the bed, before returning them to their normal size. He put the books onto the bookshelf he had transfigured out of the pellet gun Dudley had sat on, before moving the rest of the stuff to the desk.

Sitting down at his desk, he tore a piece of paper out of the note book and transfigured it to parchment, then wrote a quick note to Greeva asking him if they could meet to discuss his inheritance a week from today on the twenty-fifth around eleven and also to ask if he could recommend a wizard solicitor who was good at all aspects of wizard law and who wasn't afraid of Dumbledore or anyone else in power.

Once the letter was sealed and addressed, he told Hedwig. "I've got a letter for you to deliver in a while. Once you deliver it, I want you to wait for a response."

As the doorbell rang, Hedwig hooted with happiness, eager to be of service to her master once more.

He sighed as he heard Vernon holler. "Those freaks are back, so get down here and get rid of them!"

Given that Vernon had said freaks, not freak, Harry was willing to bet that the Weasleys were here. And as soon as he got a look down the stairs he saw that he was right. There were five Weasleys in the entry hall and one unexpected guest. Granger had come with them. She was standing next to Ron, surrounded by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the twins.

As he came down to the foot of the stairs, Harry noticed that there was no sign of his relatives. Probably hiding in the kitchen.

In a voice that could rival the chill of the Artic, he asked. "What are you doing here?"

Since no one else seemed to want to break the silence, Molly Weasley said, "We came to see you, Harry dear."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop as Harry commented, "So I'm Harry dear again am I? Well as I told Dumbledork, yesterday, the name is Potter. The only ones allowed to call me, Harry, are my friends and those I trust. You and your family, madam, fit into neither category. Nor does the arrogant Miss Know-It-All who came with you. In fact, I don't even know why any of you are here, given your statements at the trial and the comments you made to me afterwards as I was being hauled off. What makes you think I want to see any of you now or ever?"

"Harry, we just came to apologise." Ron spoke up quickly.

"Is your son deaf, madam, or is he just stupid?" Harry noticed with pleasure that his former friend's face was growing red. He couldn't help wondering just how long the hot-headed fool would be able to restrain himself. "The reason I ask, is because I remember quite clearly telling him about two days ago that he and Granger were never to speak to me again. And even if he had trouble recalling what I told him in the main wardroom of Azkaban prison, he should have no problem remembering that I just told everyone here that you didn't have the right to call me Harry any longer. Surely his memory can't be that bad."

Harry paused looking thoughtful, "though now that I think about it, maybe his memory is that poor. He certainly forgot five years of friendship in a hurry. Trading it for the spotlight and the attention that comes with it."

"Now son, you have..."

"I'M NOT YOUR SON!" Harry shouted, drowning out whatever else Mr. Weasley intended to say. "If I were related to you traitors, I would do whatever was necessary to get myself disowned from your back-stabbing family!"

"Now that's not fair!" Hermione was filled with anger as well. "We made a mistake last year and we're trying to make up for it. You have no right to insult people or not listen to what they have to say."

The emerald eyes that stared at Hermione were like chips of ice. The expression on his face looked a lot like Professor Snape's did. The one that said he thought you were a bug that he was deciding whether or not to waste the time stepping on. Hermione tried to swallow the lump that seemed to have suddenly appeared in her throat.

When Harry finally spoke, his voice was full of venom. "And now we hear from Miss Know-It-All Granger, the fount of all knowledge. She who can't resist poking her nose in to other people's business and who is never wrong." Then he growled, "but you were wrong, weren't you and not for the first time either. You didn't listen to me last year when I tried to tell you that I was innocent so give me one good reason why I should listen to you now. I guess your passion for justice and fairness only extends to house elves and things that are not human, not to those who are supposed to be your friends. How could you throw away five years of friendship? How could you possibly think I would kill Neville? Did you forget that I saved your life during our first year at Hogwarts? Remember the troll, Granger? Or do you have a very short memory, like your boyfriend here? Surely the fact that that I was responsible for you not dying during our first year should've been worth a few precious minutes of the know-it-all's time. But noooo, you preferred to join the 'Harry is an evil Dark Wizard' club without even listening to my side of the story. I tell you what I'll give your apology the same amount of attention, that you gave to listening to my side of the story last September. I think that's fair, don't you?"

Hermione was silent. There was nothing she could say because he was right. She hadn't listened to what he had to say. She had been so certain of Dumbledore and McGonagall's infallibility that when they said Harry had been caught red-handed standing over Neville's body, she hadn't looked any further.

"What nothing to say." Harry observed. "You certainly had plenty of things to say both during and after my trial. And don't think I've forgotten what you did the day I was arrested. The Dementors made sure to play that memory over and over again."

"Hey, I was the one who knocked out the troll and saved both your lives." Ron put in and when Harry's icy stare was turned on him, he gulped and wished he hadn't said anything.

"Ah, once more we hear from our sufferer of terminal foot-in-mouth disease."

Ron couldn't help noticing that Harry's sarcasm could put the whole Malfoy clan and Snape to shame. He winced as he realised that Harry was just getting warmed up.

"Do I have to remind you, moron, of just who put Granger in the position of needing to be rescued from the troll in the first place?" Harry inquired. "Why it was the yearly winner of the Engages-Mouth-Before-Brain Award: Ronald Bilius Weasley. Not to mention the fact that you wouldn't have been there to knock the troll out if I hadn't told you that she was in the bathroom and didn't know about it."

"Mr. Potter," Arthur Weasley spoke up again, trying to avoid getting the young wizard any angrier than he already was. "We know that we made a mistake last year by not listening to you, but we want to try and make up for that mistake. Part of the reason we came was to invite you to spend the remainder of the summer at the Burrow with us."

Harry mentally applauded Mr. Weasley for his balls. It couldn't be easy to stand in front of someone you and your family had royally screwed and invite that person into your home.

"Why would you think I would want anything to do with any of you?" Harry's voice was again filled with venom. "I remember very well the actions of your loving family toward me the day I was arrested as well as during and after my trial. The day you threw me to the wolves. I can never get back what your traitorous son and the rest of the Gryffindors destroyed."

"Ron isn't a traitor." Hermione defended her friend.

"Oh and what is the definition of a traitor, Miss Know-it-All?"

Hermione hated that nickname. She thought she had gotten beyond that with him and Ron and now she was clearly back to square one at least as far as Harry was concerned.

"Well, we're waiting." Harry told her, doing an impression of Snape at his worst. "What is the definition of a traitor?"

"One who commits an act of treason," Hermione stated, knowing full well where he was going with this.

"Come, come, Miss Granger only one out of ten." Harry chastised, his patronising tone making her wince. "You know full well that a traitor is also one who betrays another's trust, just as you, Ron, and the entire Weasley clan did to me. The Dementors made sure that your many kind words to me as I was being hauled off to Azkaban, were burned deeply into my mind. After all how many sixteen year olds can say that they will remember til their dying day a woman they looked up to as a surrogate mother telling them that 'it is a good thing that your parents are dead so they don't have to see what an evil thing you've become'."

As Mrs Weasley let out a moan, Harry commented, "I wonder if you will say something similar to Percy at his trial, madam, or will you be a hypocrite and stand by him to the end. It's a pity I destroyed all the Dementors, otherwise he could've had them to keep him company at Azkaban and to remind him of all your kind words to him."

"If you think that I or my family condone what Percy did..." Mrs. Weasley began to get angry at what Harry was implying. Yes the boy had the right to be angry with them, but not to tarnish their family name.

Harry's voice rose over hers shouting her down. "I never said you condoned it, just that you were probably going to be a hypocrite and stand by him. He is after all blood kin, unlike I was. You will no doubt stand by him, even if it comes out that he was the next Dark Lord in training. You will do for him, what no one in your family would do for me."

Harry was fighting to keep control of his temper. "After all we'd been through and the help I gave your family, madam I thought that your family at least would have given me a fair hearing. I nearly died from the Basilisk's venom when I was twelve, because your daughter was stupid enough to write in an enchanted journal that belonged to Tom Riddle. And none of your own children who should have been able to see that something was wrong with her, ever figured out that something was going on. I provided the money that started the twin's business after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, when they were stupid enough to gamble theirs away with Ludo Bagman and he welched on the bet. It was my vision of Nagini biting your husband, that allowed us to find him in time to save his life when I was fifteen."

"All of you in one form or another owe me and how did you pay me back? By destroying the only memories, I will ever have of my parents and godfather. By ripping my soul to shreds with your hateful, hurtful words. By not even bothering to take the time to find out what really happened." His gaze roamed over the whole group. "I thought you of all people would know that I couldn't do what I was being accused of, but no you're no better than the rest of the hypocritical wizarding world. I thought that all of you knowing how Hagrid and Sirius had been framed would've taken the time to find out the truth, instead of believing what you are told like little children who need to be led by the hand. But nooo what do you do. You tow the party line, instead of bothering to think for yourselves. Why is it that no one in the wizarding world can think or reason?"

He glared at Granger, as she opened her mouth to say something. "Don't bother to tell me you can think and reason, because we both know you can't, Granger. If you had been using the brain you were given back in September, then you would have remembered that the wizarding world has this wonderful thing called Veritaserum and that it compels people to tell the truth. Why didn't you bother to ask why I wasn't given it at my trial? None of you even spoke up and asked why I wasn't being given it. Just like the rest of the wizarding world, you preferred to assume I was guilty. Somebody found me over the body, so I must be guilty. Far better for the wizarding world to see justice quickly done, never mind that the person being condemned to hell wasn't guilty. We have swift justice and that makes up for the fact that the truth gets trampled into the ground and the guilty party goes free to kill again."

His eyes bored into Mrs. Weasley's as he commented. "I wonder how many people your son tortured and killed madam, besides Neville and me, I mean."

"Neville and I," Hermione corrected automatically, earning another glare from Harry.

He returned his attention to Mrs. Weasley. "I wonder how much blood is on your family's hands, Granger's hands, and the hands of Dumbledork and his Order, because you all couldn't be bothered to speak up and force Fudge to use all the tools at the wizarding world's disposal to determine the truth? I know that Voldemort was very busy during the time I was in Azkaban. I got to see all of the Deatheaters' activities while I was locked up through my visions. How many of those people is Percy responsible for killing? How many people's lives could have been spared, if you had just spoken up and asked that I be given Veritaserum to confirm or disprove my guilt? Or if the Ministry had just done its job properly?"

There was a pause and they could see him visibly regaining control of his emotions and pulling back in the magic that had begun to swirl about them. "You know I really don't want to hear anything further that you have to say. Leave now, before I do something I won't regret."

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Harry woke the next morning feeling a little better than he had the night before. It had taken several hours before he was calm enough to no longer want to go over to the Burrow and blow it to bits with everyone inside.

While he was getting dressed, Harry made a mental note to insure that whatever home he did get, it was slightly isolated from others and that he got a study outbuilding put on the property that he could use when he felt the need to vent his anger.

Once he was dressed Harry started to head downstairs for breakfast, but heard the flutter of wings in his room and went back in intending to greet Hedwig. The sight of about a dozen owls scattered on various perches around the room made him growl. Some of them were carrying letters and others were carrying packages.

Either Dumbledork hadn't passed on his warning about not wanting any contact with the wizarding world, or if he had, then the idiots who sent these owls had chosen to ignore it. Well they won't be ignoring it for very long, he thought to himself. He took several deep breaths. There was no point in harming the owls for doing the task they were assigned. The problem was their idiot masters. Well he would take care of that after breakfast. He would send Hedwig with a letter to the Daily Prophet or as he preferred to think of it the Daily Liar, making it quite clear what would happen to any witch or wizard foolish enough to send him anything further.

The owls began to rustle nervously when he made no move to take the letters and packages they were carrying. All this wizard did was stand there and stare at them for several minutes before he told them. "Return to your master or mistress. Their packages and letters are not welcome here."

As the owls took off, Harry almost wished he could be there when they got their letters back. Aside from the usual curses that were applied to someone you didn't like he had added an interesting twist. The moment they touched the letter, the words 'I am an idiot' would appear on their foreheads and they would remain there through September 1st.

Taking the letter from Hedwig, he opened it eagerly.

Mr. Potter,

I will be available to meet with you on July 25, 1997 at 11am.

Per your request, the best solicitor we at Gringotts could recommend would be Mr Alexander Boet. He is familiar with all aspects of wizard law. If you would like for me to I can try and arrange for him to meet you at Gringotts on the twenty-fifth. If you were to meet in one of our private meeting rooms, not even the Head of the Wizengamot could interrupt the meeting, given that once you enter the room and until you are done, the room is sealed and not even Gringotts can violate this seal. Please do let me know if you wish for me to arrange this meeting.

Also please do let me know if there is any further assistance that we at Gringotts can render to you.

Sincerely,

Ironknife Greeva

Since Greeva didn't know that he had already muddied up his magical signature so it couldn't be tracked, Harry was touched by the offer of using Gringotts' secure facilities for his meeting. Pleased that he might be able to get his legal business done without Dumbledore finding out or trying to interfere, Harry wrote back asking Greeva to arrange the meeting.

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Harry spent most of the next week taking day trips to places that interested him in Great Britain. He had several reasons for doing so.

The first reason was because he wanted to spend as little time around the Dursleys as he had to.

He also wanted see some of the country he had lived in most of his life. The Dursleys had never taken him anywhere unless they had no choice, so the only parts of Britain he had ever seen, aside from that rather frantic trip Vernon taken them all on in a vain attempt to out run the Hogwarts letters, had been London, and Hogwarts.

The last reason was he wanted to find a new place to live. His time in Azkaban had left him with an intense desire not to be cooped up, but first he had to find an area he thought he would be comfortable living in. Then he would contact estate agents to see what they had available in that area. His goal was to be living in his new home before he had to return to Hogwarts, or at the very least by the Christmas break. He didn't know what kind of home he wanted, but he did know what he didn't want. He definitely wasn't going to live in one of those cookie cutter neighbourhoods, like the Dursleys did, where all the houses looked like they were cut out of the same mould. He wanted a house with personality, just not in the wizarding world.

He also got a passport made under his alter ego identity so he could travel to other countries after his birthday and well as using a travel agent to book a couple of trips for him to take in August. One was going to be a weeklong tour of the French countryside and the other was to Las Vegas in America. The pamphlets on them had looked interesting, especially the one on the hotel/casino he had chosen in Las Vegas: The Venetian. It was supposed to be a little like Venice.

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Friday July 25th

Harry sat at the desk in his room, going over the notes he had written to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He was fairly certain with all of this information the solicitor was going to be very busy for at least the next year. He added another note to remind himself to ask this Mr. Boet if he handled muggle law as well. It would save him having to search for another solicitor, if he chose to retain the man's services.

At 9 am, Harry walked from Privet Drive to the bus stop to catch a bus to the train station. He was getting used to using non-magical mass transportation and in fact found it quite enjoyable when he wasn't forced to share it with the Dursleys. In the past week, he had learned the trick to travelling by train into London. Unless you were in a real hurry, it was always best to catch the train after nine, because it was less crowded and the ticket could be used as an all day pass on the buses and the underground.

He got into Charing Cross Station around ten and then went out to grab a bus heading in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He got off the bus a few blocks from his final destination and stepped into a muggle cafe to put on his alter ego, before heading to the Leaky Cauldron.

As he stepped inside the Leaky Cauldron, Harry saw that it was back to normal. He only hoped it was the same in Diagon Alley.

When the Archway into Diagon Alley opened, Harry was relieved to see that it was also back to normal. No huge mass of people crowded into the Alley, just the normal every day traffic.

Before heading to Gringotts, Harry stopped by Eyelops Owl Emporium to pick up some owl treats for Hedwig. Once he had the treats he headed slowly toward the bank, timing his arrival so that he entered the doors of the bank just as the clock in the tower was striking eleven.

Not seeing a goblin he recognized on the main floor, Harry walked up the nearest free goblin, handed over a note and quietly asked, "Would you please give that note to Branch Manager Greeva and tell him that I am here for our eleven o'clock appointment?"

The goblin stunned by the polite tone of the wizard, since most of them usually just snapped out orders to the goblins when they wanted something, nodded and said, "Please wait here while I see if he is available."

He returned a few minutes later and said, "Please follow me, sir."

Harry followed the goblin back to the same office he'd been led to before. The goblin knocked then opened the door, and gestured for him to step inside.

Harry dropped the glamour once he heard the door close behind him.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter." Greeva got to his feet to greet him but he wasn't alone in the room. There was another wizard with him.

"Manager Greeva, it is a pleasure to see you again." Harry nodded toward the goblin, but most of his attention was fixed on the other wizard in the room. "Did I interrupt another meeting? If so, my business can wait a little while."

Seeing the young wizard's attention was on him, the other wizard introduced himself. "I am Alexander Boet. Master Greeva contacted me saying that one of his clients needed the help of a discreet solicitor, who wasn't afraid to go against those in powerful positions. He however didn't tell me it would be you, Mr. Potter. I am pleased to meet you at last and thank you for dealing with Voldemort."

"You know you are the first wizard, I've ever met besides Dumbledore, who didn't cringe at the mention of the Voldemort's name?" Harry was pleased by how the man was reacting to his identity. He was calm and wasn't reacting the way most witches and wizards did, glancing at the scar on his forehead, before staring at him awe and allowing their brains to dribble out their ears as they said stupid and inane things.

The older wizard shrugged. "In that one matter and that one matter only, Albus Dumbledore and I are in agreement. Fear of the name, increases fear of the thing or person."

"I take it you are not a big fan of Dumbledore's then?" Harry asked.

"Not really," Mr. Boet resumed his seat. "He is a powerful wizard and his actions during the war with Grindelwald have earned him my respect. I was still in school at the time. I however do not believe he deserves the aura of infallibility that other wizards since then have given him. Not even Merlin was infallible. Though there are those who would prefer to have it thought he was."

"I asked Mr. Boet to join us for this meeting, so that you could meet him and see if he was the one you wanted to have handle your legal matters." Greeva told the younger wizard. "If you choose to have him handle your legal affairs then he will be able to advise you, if necessary on those aspects of wizarding inheritance law that fall outside of Gringotts' authority."

"And before we get started, may I compliment you as well, Mr. Potter, on the rather pithy and well chosen comments you made in the letter that the Daily Prophet published on Sunday." Mr. Boet said with a smile. "My sister-in-law was rendered quite speechless for several hours because of them, for which I thank you."

Harry liked the matter-of-fact way Mr. Boet was handling things so far. He was curious to see if he would continue to be so calm and unflappable once he heard what Harry wanted him to do. "Are you also familiar with and able to represent me in matters of muggle law as well, Mr. Boet?"

"Not personally," the other wizard told him, "but I can recommend a good muggle solicitor if you wish. The lady I am thinking of is a squib so she is familiar with the wizarding world. She just prefers to live in the muggle world and have as little contact with the wizarding one as possible."

"We'll get to that later." Harry told him as he also took a seat in front of Greeva's desk. "You're being here now, Mr. Boet saves me a little time, because I have one matter I want to take care of before I open this box and it involves wizarding law and Gringotts."

"What matter is this, Mr. Potter?" Greeva asked curious.

"I would like to open a separate vault to be set up as a trust." Harry began. "I want half the monies that were left to me from the Black estate to be placed in that vault along with the compensation paid to Sirius and I by the Ministry. I don't want to touch one single knut of their guilt money."

"And what is the purpose of the trust?" Mr. Boet asked, making a note.

"It is to fund the Remus J. Lupin Foundation for Werewolves." Harry told them, the expression on his face serious. "He was the only wizard out of all those who personally knew me who didn't believe that I was guilty. Since he is no longer alive, I want to do something in his memory to help others like him, who the wizarding world looks down on. I also want to get a will written so that if something does happen to me, my entire estate will then be used to fund the trust, at least for right now. If I ever have a family, I will probably change at least part of that." He looked at both goblin and wizard. "Can that be done?"

"We should be able to set up the trust vault, but fine details of how the trust is to be handled will need to be worked out." Greeva told him, making a note on a pad in front of him. "Including who will oversee it."

"I will want the goblins to oversee the financial end of things and possibly the day to day aspects, since I know I can trust you to adhere firmly to any contracts you may have." The gaping shark's mouth told Harry he had surprised the goblin.

"I thank you for the honour and trust you have placed in us, Mr. Potter." Greeva finally spoke up a few minutes later. "I promise we will handle the trust you set up, exactly the way you would wish it to be handled."

"I know you will. At least with goblins running it, I know it will not get too corrupt and it will help the people it is meant to help long after I am gone." Harry turned his attention to the slender, black box sitting on the desk. "Now let's see what we have in here."

He picked up the box and tried to figure out how to open it.

"Place the box on the desk," Greeva instructed and once Harry had done so he told him, "Place you thumb in the slight depression at the bottom as if you were lifting a lid."

Harry did so and was rewarded with a slight click and the box popped open. Raising the lid, Harry saw there were several pieces of parchment contained within. Removing them, he commented, "I can't possibly be heir to all of this."

"Actually it is entirely possible that you can be." Mr. Boet spoke up before Greeva could. "Between Grindelwald and Voldemort a great many wizarding families have been completely wiped out and not just in England, leaving those with only the most tenuous of blood ties in a position to possibly inherit great wealth. All they would have to do is come forward and attempt to claim it."

Harry quickly skimmed the list of properties, businesses, and vaults, growing more and more stunned by the moment. It was the one at the bottom of the list that surprised him the most. Staring at it, he exclaimed, "How can I possibly be the heir to that?!"

(AN: Yes, I know I am evil, leaving a cliffy like that. If you were wondering what Harry looked like with the new glamour on, he looks like Methos on Highlander)