《Harrison J. Potter: The boy who wants nothing to do with this. (SI)》


 Chapter One: The Preparation

    Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey


    That is the address of Harry Potter in the books. Yes, everyone who''s read the books and even remotely liked it know this place. This is where I am. Why? I have no idea. All I know is that I''m pretty sure these inhuman people deserve to be sent to prison for child abuse.


    Also being ten years old again is far from okay. I was in my mid-twenties when I ended up in the body of a five-year-old Harry Potter. I''ve been putting up with these gits for far too long and I have been planning for the letter that will set me free. Squirreling away any money I can find. Yes, I stole money from Vernon. No, I don''t feel bad about it. He''s more whale than human so I don''t feel bad about it.


    Going through the motions of making these gits breakfast every morning. I managed to at least sneak food into my mouth without anyone noticing by remaining solely focused on cooking quickly and quietly. Since I, unlike Harry know how to handle abuse and how to minimize it.


    Due to the routine I keep to Vernon and Petunia have been content to leave me to do things. Embodying the notion of being seen but not heard unless specifically asked to speak. Due to this I have suffered less. I''ve received far fewer thrashings at the hands of Vernon and less annoyed looks from Petunia.


    The sound of the mail flap clicking closed made me pause on my way to giving Vernon his coffee when he asked for it. Each and every day I quietly hope that today could be the day I get the letter. I pour Vernon his coffee and head towards the door to get the post just like I do every morning. Picking it up off the floor I skim each and every one until one that feels vastly different on my fingers. I smirk looking at what I was waiting for this whole time. To think it would show up more than a month beforehand on the 13th of June. No wonder why Vernon went absolutely ballistic about getting the letters. It happened every single day for over a month.


    I open the small door to my room and toss the letter inside without a sound. I will read it later, using what I know of the series I will run off to Charing Cross road. Finding the Leaky Cauldron shouldn''t be too difficult. I haven''t got much but I do know I can make it there. Not like the Dursley''s will actually report me missing anyway. They still want me out of the picture, and I want the same.


    Saturday, June 15th is when I got everything for my escape in place. I packed up the best hand me downs I had in a backpack the night before with the letter and the money I snatched from Vernon. With Vernon at work, Dudley at a friend''s house, and Petunia focused on the tele it makes for the perfect time to scurry off. I had come inside to use the bathroom to have a good excuse stop doing yardwork. I grabbed the bag and made a break for it.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Getting to Charing Cross Road took longer than expected. It took almost all day, and I''m bone tired. Shifting my hair to cover my scar and take off my glasses I head inside the Leaky Cauldron. I can make it to Diagon Alley and to Gringotts. Once I''m in Gringotts I can exchange the money I have with Galleons. I might even be able to get ahold of the Potter account manager. If I can see about getting my vault key from whoever has a hold of it.


    Thankfully I didn''t have to wait long for the goblin behind the huge important desk to stop writing and look down at me from his seat. I can see why they do it. They don''t want to look up at wizards all the time. I don''t blame them, a lot of wizards are racist gits.


    "Greeting sir, I hope your enemies bleed plenty and your pockets overflow of gold." I say with a slight bow.


    The look the goblin had was a sharp toothed smile. I''m unsure as to it''s meaning but I hope it was a good enough greeting.


    "It is rare a wizard greets us by our custom. What is it that Gringotts can do for you?"


    "I would like to speak to my family account manager, and have a few other things done that require a level of security and discretion."


    "Very well." Picking up a bell on the desk the goblin rings it. A few moments pass and another goblin a younger one approached and bowed to the older goblin and spoke in some language I had no hope of understanding. They spoke to one another for a minute.


    "Follow me wizard." I gave a slight bow to the older goblin before following after the younger one down several hallways and into a rather refined looking room. A table with a few chairs, two of which were sized appropriately for ease of use for goblins I could only assume. I was proven correct when the goblin i had followed got in one of the chair and gestured for me to take a seat.


    Taking a seat across from the goblin they grabbed a dagger from a pocket and a piece of parchment from another. Placing both on the table they clear their throat.


    "I am Silver Claw, the one in charge of determining lineage here at Gringotts. All you have to do is use this knife her to get three drops of blood on this parchment. It will tell us several things we will need to know since you came to us seeking discretion and secrecy."


    "If I may ask, what exactly will show up on it?" I was genuinely curious, if it could tell me certain things I could use it to take steps towards several different goals. Primarily getting Sirius Black out of prison and when that happens I can go to 12 Grimmauld Place. It''s good that I know of it. Meaning it''s not currently under the fidelius charm.


    "This tells us who you are, what vaults are under your name, and to what if any houses you have ownership or are in line for."


    I nod picking up the knife I slice my thumb and drop three drops of my blood on the parchment. I will find out just what Harry Potter had and didn''t know about due to Dumbledore being a manipulative git.

 Chapter Two: Most Noble and Ancient houses

    The blood dropped into the page of parchment. Three drops just like the goblin directed. My thumb mended itself as it the cut wasn''t there. Magic is amazing and I can''t wait to learn about it, but if I want peace when doing so I need freedom of the machinations of Dumbledore and hopefully separate myself from the mold of the Gryffindor golden boy.


    Putting down the knife I realize I missed the reaction the parchment had to my blood. Silver Claw had picked it up and began to read.


    "Harrison James Potter. Age 10. Heir to the houses Potter, Gryffindor, and Peverell by blood. Heir to houses Slytherin and Gaunt by conquest. Heir to house Ravenclaw by magic.


    Okay, that''s three more names than I thought would be there. I figured Slytherin, Gaunt, and Peverell would be there aside from my own of Potter, but not Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. The goblin''s brow crinkles looking up from the parchment and at me.


    "Mr. Potter, it''s is good you came to the bank. We have attempted to get in contact with you for several years by owl."


    "That is news to me. I personally have received no notices from Gringotts by owl or otherwise." Silver Claw growled slightly at my answer, before reading more of the parchment. "I would like to claim my titles, how would I go about it? Also, how did I become heir by magic to Ravenclaw?"


    "It is a rather simple thing for you to do Mr. Potter. Especially easy for one as yourself. You are heir to six houses, as the last in your bloodline of the Potter house alone would be enough to get your lord ring let alone three others fall under the same practice. Those being Ravenclaw, Peverell, and Slytherin. As for you being an heir by magic, several things could be the reason behind this. It is one of the reasons we have been trying to get in contact with you for several years."


    "Right, I wish to obtain my titles immediately. If I am to protect myself it is the most logical thing I could do. Is there anything that happened after my parents death in 1981 that was put in place by my magical guardian?"


    "Yes, there is a betrothal contract between a Harry J. Potter and Ginevra M. Weasley. It was signed by your magical guardian Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore and Molly L. Weasley, in November of 1981."


    "Really now? Don''t know who Harry is. My name is Harrison."


    Silver Claw''s smile at my words was nothing short of dangerously gleeful. "Indeed, I will get the Potter account manager and bring him here. I wish you victory in your battles and for your wealth to continue building Lord Potter." He said with a bow.


    "My thanks, Silver Claw. May your enemies never know peace and their gold become yours." I say with a nod of my head.


    Silver Claw left me in the meeting room with my thoughts. It''s good that what I assumed to be true isn''t too far off the mark. I wasn''t left alone for too long only a few minutes. I rose from my seat upon the entrance of a older goblin carrying a breifcase. Who moved and sat down in the chair across from me and nodded.


    "Please have a seat Lord Potter. We have much to get done and little time to do it." I sit back down as the case is heaved onto the table and opened up. Several things were pulled from it. Namely three small boxes that likely held rings, a few stacks of parchment and ornate dagger. Geez, goblins really have a thing for really fancy knives. Finally, a small bowl is set next to the blade. "First, put seven drops of blood in this bowl. Should the boxes on the table open up you are allowed to take on the Lordships of the houses now. Should they remain closed then you have not been recognized as the appropriate age to aquire them."


    I pick up the knife and observe it for a moment. "Might I get the name of the goblin who has kept my accounts in immaculate order?"


    "Sharpaxe."This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    "You have my gratitude Sharpaxe. Might you be willing to take up any further accounts that come up should they fall under my name?" I shift my gaze from the dagger to Sharpaxe as I prick my thumb once again. I swear I could feel the satisfaction of Sharpaxe when he nodded.


    I have little doubt the boxes will remain closed. Technically, if we go by how long I lived in my past life and now in this one for five additional years then spiritually I''m nearly thirty even if I''m in the body of a almost ten soon to be eleven year old. Seven drops of blood and I was proven correct. The three boxes popped open once the seventh drop of blood hit the bowl. Each of the rings had a immaculate coat of arms and differed in color. Ravenclaw''s ring sported a small bronze Eagle just like the Hogwarts house, the rest of it was a lovely satin blue. Slytherin''s displayed a jade Basilisk with a single small yellow jewel where it''s eye is, the rest was a sterling silver. The Potter ring had a scarlet lion on a silver shield, the band is gold.


    "The three of them have accepted you. Place each of them on your right ring finger. Magic will do the rest."


    I pick up each ring and slide them on. The Slytherin and Ravenclaw rings seem to be absorbed by the Potter ring. Narrowing my gaze on the ring and concentrating for a moment the ring shifts to that of Ravenclaw''s then to Slytherin''s and back to the Potter ring. I can display any of the three when necessary. That''s pretty neat.


    "Is there a specific title you''d like Gringotts to call you now that you have obtained your Lordships?"


    "Will what I''m called matter?"


    "No, not in the slightest. It will only determine what we will address you as in our letters and while here in Gringotts."


    I could get some really petty revenge on Dumbledore by scaring the pants off of him by requesting to be called Lord Slytherin. The thought makes me chuckle but I won''t be so childish.


    "I believe being referred to as Lord Ravenclaw while here at the bank, business ventures, and in our further correspondence would be for the best. It will keep things hidden for the most part."


    "Of course Lord Ravenclaw. Now, I assume you''d like to know what vaults belong to you now?" I nod my head rubbing my fingers over my ring. "First is your trust vault 687 it has been set aside for you to pay for your Hogwarts education and anything you may need before reaching maturity. However due to you being lord of your house the purpose for the vault is moot. Vault Slytherin is vault 49, Ravenclaw''s is vault 42, Gryffindor''s is vault 35, Potter vault is number 77, Gaunt vault is number 70."


    "I can access each of those vaults and remove what''s in them to another?"


    "Yes."


    "Tell me Sharpaxe, has anyone accessed or attempted to access any of my vaults for any reason since my parents passing in 81?"


    Some rustling of parchment and I had my answer. Albus too many fucking names Dumbledore has been emptying my trust vault of its contents each time it''s been filled each year and as of right now it is empty to be refilled on my birthday. A total of forty-five thousand Galleons. That''s the equivalent of two hundred twenty-one thousand eight hundred and fifty GBP. In America that''s nearly a third of a million USD.


    "That son of a bitch!" I slam my fist on the table. I know that this money doesn''t really put anything close to a dent in what I have now but that old man is going to pay in blood for each coin. It seems Sharpaxe is a livid as I am. I could only guess as to what he''s saying in gobbledegook but it''s likely filled with creative swear words.


    "Where did the money go?"


    "It was placed in a fund for something called Order of the Phoenix."


    So, not only did you steal money from me, you have the audacity to make it so I pay for the so called ''fight'' against Voldemort whose creation is completely your fault Dumbledore. Very well, let''s flip the board. I know much about this world''s lore and what has happened. I suppose feeding the media sharks to tear at the reputation of Dumbledore is the first step. His relationship with Grindelwald the dark Lord before Voldemort would be a good start. According to the records of businesses, I own thirty-five percent of the Daily Prophet, sleek easies hair tonic and several other things that continue to make me money based on patents and that''s just from the Potter house. I''m going to bring down the hammer of pain right on Dumbledore''s head. There won''t be a way to bring back Riddle if I destroy each Horcrux.


    "Sharpaxe... Do you know of Horcrux?"


    A look of surprise that crossed the goblin''s face before he nodded. "I do Lord Ravenclaw."


    "I believe I have a soul shard of Voldemort in my scar. I want it removed. Would goblin magic be capable of removing it?"


    "Our healers would be capable of this yes. Such a treatment would require a heafty fee."


    "Good, I want it done as soon as possible. Also get me a pouch that is linked to my vaults so I can withdraw money without coming to the bank that will be keyed to my blood to prevent theft. I assume it will take time to get things in order so I want to visit the Slytherin vault to make a withdrawal. I need money to rent a room for the time being. I''ll be staying here in Diagon alley for the time being in the Leaky Cauldron. I''m sure old Tom Abbott has a few rooms open."

 Chapter Three: The Wand Chooses the Wizard

    After dealing with the Horcrux and my financial situation at the bank a few things were made apparent about the Horcrux that was in my head for nearly 10 years. I no longer have to wear glasses for starters. It was a constant drain on my magic as well. If anything, my magical potential rose through the roof due to it forcing my magical core to grow rapidly to compensate for the strain the Horcrux was causing. I wouldn''t be surprised if my magical core is closer to that of an adult already. I will definitely have to be careful and not bring a spotlight onto myself too early with that knowledge. Turns out that the Parseltongue gift was something the Peverell family was capable of and due to that Horcrux it pulled the ability to the forefront with the forced expansion of my magical core. I have a slight ability to change my eyes and hair making me a Metamorphmagus.


    I don''t know if I can train that ability or not, but I should at least try to do so. I am unsure if it''s something that something the Potter family or any of the ancestors were capable of or if it because my soul has changed the magic residing in the body. I''m now Harrison J. Potter but I was someone else before that. I shake my head focusing on keeping my hair a bit longer with the ability and tamed to cover my forehead. Can''t have a mosh pit open up because someone can''t keep their mouths shut.


    Olivander''s is my first stop. The old wand maker is something I was never sure of. The books, movies, and theories about him were pretty fantastical. I hope that the change in my magic and the fact I no longer have a fragment of Riddle''s soul in my forehead will change things. The bell sounds above my head as I wait for service. I heard a slight shift behind me to my left and I turned to look into the silver eyes of Garrick Olivander.


    "Welcome Mr. Potter. It seems like yesterday when your mother and father came for their wands." He moves across the cluttered shop the shelves lined with rectangular boxes of various sizes some haphazardly stacked and looking like they would fall over from a slight breeze. "Try this one." He handed me a wand that looked a bit old.


    I must have tried about twenty different wands. It was then the wand I wanted nothing to do with was brought to me. I had picked it up and nothing happened. Garrick looked a bit more than surprised about this but boxed that particular wand before humming in deep thought.


    "Such a picky customer, even the one I thought would have been a perfect fit seems wrong. Perhaps, one of my newest wands would be more appropriate?" Rounding the counter the aged wand maker pulls up four boxes and opens them up. "I crafted these few over the last year. Pick the one that calls to you the most."


    I look down at the boxes and my gaze lands on a wand I recognize. Vinewood ten and three fourths'' inches. The future wand of one Hermione Granger. She has yet to come to Diagon Alley. The other three I have no recognition of. I lift my hand and hold it over each box for a minute before I felt a powerful pull on the last box. I pick it up from the box and I feel warmth in my chest.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Willow, twelve inches unyielding flexibility with a core of unicorn hair. This wand should serve you well and for a very long time. Seven galleons Mr. Potter."


    "If at all possible, could I get a care kit and an arm holster for it. This wand is my channel for magic, an extension of myself and I plan to care for it properly."


    The smile the old wand maker gave was nothing short of joyful. He handed me a tin of polish and a few other things including the holster which I slide my wand inside. The total ended up being eight galleons and 15 knuts. I gave him ten galleons and told him to keep the change before leaving. Olivander may be someone seen as a strange oddity, but he''s a man dedicated to his craft and the joy he exuded ruffling through those boxes looking to pair wizards and witches with their first wands. The joy and pride of a craftsman who remembers every wand he''s ever sold or made and that is a man while odd, deserves a bit more than what is owed.


    Stepping back into the alley I headed for Madame Malkin''s. I''m practically what goes for wizard nobility, and I should look like it. Acromantula silk robes and some clothes that help me blend in.


    Spending three hours in there wasn''t my plan but I will be coming back in two hours to gather my new clothes once I buy a trunk and the rest of my school supplies.


    The trunk I got was covered in wards and runes. Highest security possible, no way was anyone getting in there without me knowing about it. Shinks with just a tap of my wand on the lid to become pocket sized. Flourish and Blotts bookstore for any books that interested me along with the school required ones were picked up. Miranda Goshawk was quite the witch to write these textbooks to be used as the curriculum for every year at Hogwarts. I picked up each and every book by her as well as a copy of Hogwarts: A History. A book of household spells among other older books that may have some differing explanations. I may end up having more books than I could read but my mind is my weapon. A sharpened and properly wielded weapon is better than no defense at all. Dropped by the Apothecary for the required potion supplies and equipment. Grabbed a telescope for astronomy class and finally looked at the Eeylope''s Owl Emporium.


    I contemplate for a few minutes on if I should get Hedwig. Having an Owl would be a benefit. Heading inside I look around, but I fail to find her. It may be possible that she isn''t here yet. The clerk tending to the store seems to be eyeing me with what looks to be impatience. Perhaps I will come back another time.


    I return to the street and step to the side to watch the hustle of the people going from one place to another. A soft sigh escapes me, there is so much I know about the world that I can''t put in place without proof. I need to get my hands on the Marauder''s Map that holds the key to freeing Sirius from Azkaban. I know where the Undercroft is provided the odd clock is still there. It would be a good place to trade to the Weasley twins in exchange for the map. They get a place to plan their schemes and the like without any issues or need to dodge Filch and Mrs. Norris.


    I shuffle down the street letting my mind wonder off while picking up my robes from Malkin''s shop. Heading back to the Leaky Cauldron I head up to my rented room. I need to start reading my assigned books and use my meta knowledge to attempt occlumency. I have a month and a few days before I will have to send my acceptance to my letter. Hopefully, I can keep myself a secret until then at the very least.