Harry Potter was organizing his mind, the influx of information had given him a constant migraine for days. Within the myriad of books he had found in the trunk her mother had left for him, the most valuable of them all were her journals. They contained her life through Hogwarts: her ambitious projects, her goals for the future, and her favourite classes. The journal that contained her life after school depicted the apogee of the war, stories of her friends who were hunted because of their blood, and how she had fallen in love with a reckless, yet kind and charming idiot who happened to be his father. He had read them with devotion, getting to admire the woman.

While he read them, Elizabeth had been distracted by the books in his mother's collection, reading without respite. Now he had an idea of how the magical world worked, his mother had written about how stagnant they were, how they were destroying magic with their ridiculous beliefs, how they censured magic based on their fear. He could not agree more, they still used quill and parchment, they wore antiquated clothes combined with horrid colours not noticing how ridiculous they looked, and they discriminated against the real pure magic that ran through different species.

He read about his mother's deep respect towards magical species, risking her life many times to save them from death eaters, a fact that earned respect with many magical beings. He read about the war and how utterly useless the government had been, he learnt of how deep prejudice and corruption run. Once he read his mother’s journals he took a decision, he would continue working for what his mother had strived: the liberation of magic. Lily Evans had been a gentle woman who was unable to do what was necessary to achieve that ambitious goal in her lifetime. He, on the other hand, held no restrictions. Harry believed vermin had a place at his feet and that anyone who dared to cross him deserved pain. As simple as that.

His mother also wrote about the Potter castle. She wrote about the previsions she took when she had been unable to convince his father to move there. She had placed multiple wards around the cottage and had innumerable portkeys around the house in case they needed to run away. However, the boy did not understand why they needed to run and the thing that confused him the most was how was his family attacked. According to what his mother had written, they took all the necessary precautions even after the Fidelius thing as placed... Something was not right about the event and Harry swore to find out what had really happened.

Sadly, his grandparents had been murdered by death eaters a year after his parents’ wedding. The reason why she enchanted the Potter house-elves to sleep in case they were also targeted. She wrote about the little guys being loyal and powerful in extreme, but they needed their Master's magic to survive... With plans forming in his mind, he walked with Elizabeth towards the Leaky Cauldron, having to tolerate the shabby barman that once again opened the entrance to Diagon Alley. They walked towards the bank, he saluted the guards and his sister followed his example.

“Good morning Teller Sharpclaw, I introduce you to my sister, Elizabeth,” he greeted the same worker from his previous visit.

“Good morning Mister Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Likewise Teller Sharpclaw,” the girl greeted with a gentle tone, earning the approval of her brother.

“Manager Ragnok is waiting for you; do you wish me to guide you?"

“I remember the way and I’m sure you have better things to do, may gold overflow your vault,” Harry nodded to the goblin, with his sister emulating him and leaving a speechless teller behind. He knocked on the door and a few seconds later it Ragnok opened it, examining his companion. “Good morning Manager Ragnok, I introduce you to my sister, Elizabeth.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she greeted.

“Likewise Miss Elizabeth,” the surprised goblin provided, “Let's have a seat.”

“Manager Ragnok I apologize for not stating the proper farewell the last time we met, I was not aware of the proper traditions,” the child began once they sat. His mother wrote about goblins, they were a warrior race that valued honour and respect above anything else. She had begun learning their language and customs, stating that it was wise to learn about the ones that managed your money and he could not agree more.

“There is no harm done, anything you wish to discuss before I give you a report on the retrieved heirlooms Mister Potter?"

“First of all, please call me Harry. And yes, I wanted to discuss my family's investments. To be precise, the dragon reserves my mother invested in, I’m curious about whether we could buy the whole shares.”

“It can be done, but may I ask why?"

“Of course, dragons are powerful magical beings, the fact that they treat them as livestock offends me,” he stated, surprising the goblin once again.

“It will be done, I will have the papers ready,” the shocked male answered and wrote in his book.

“There are also more delicate matters I wish to discuss,” his tone stated of how serious these were. “I wish to give my sister access to my personal vault, then I want to know if there is any possibility of me gaining Elizabeth's custody in the magical world. I also want to know if there is a way to apply to a magical school overseas for her, I would want to have her at Hogwarts but my fame will give her unwanted attention,” he commented, ignoring her dejected look. “I also wish to discuss my parents' will and the families I was supposed to live with after they died. I was left with my mother's sister, Petunia, who in turn left me in an orphanage, and I know my mother vetoed against the woman":

“I see,” the goblin muttered with a scowl. “It is not possible to give access to your account to any person until you are an adult. Until you are of age, you can't make big transactions or have any real power over your account aside from retiring money. Now onto your guardians. Your godfather, Sirius Orion Black, is in Azkaban for the murder of 13 muggles, Peter Pettigrew, and betraying your parents. Your godmother, Alice Clare Longbottom, resides in the permanent ward St. Mungos. She and her husband were tortured to insanity a few days after your parents were murdered. Sara Doves died during the way. Remus Lupin and Eleadora Pittsum are in perfect health, as far as I’m concerned. I must tell you though that your parent's testament may not have been given to them because it was sealed under the orders of the Wizengamot.”

“Mmm, I find it hard to believe my godfather would betray my parents. As a matter of fact, my mother wrote in one of her journals of him offering himself as a distraction for the death eaters. Is it possible to obtain the records of his trial?"

“It is, records are public, and magic makes them impossible to destroy or hide,” he provided writing once more in his book. “About the school, you only need to send a letter and her guardians' permission which brings us to the next matter. You will be unable to gain guardianship while you are still underage, though there is another option: blood adoption. It is quite an expensive potion but as her next of kin you would be able to decide matters such as schooling and living arrangements,” he explained.

“I understand, and if she is willing, so am I,” the child stated, to which his answer was a bright smile and vigorous nods. “How do I obtain the potion?"

"We will have it done by our brewers, for a fee of course,” the man grinned writing in his book. “It will be ready in a week, we can deliver it via owl with the instructions.”

“Please do. Another question, do you know who my magical guardian is or how may I obtain the information?"

“Considering you are an orphan, the Ministry has a Limited Guardianship over you. Normally, a member of the Wizengamot is assigned to this duty and in your case, Albus Dumbledore was chosen. Talking about him...” the goblin handed him a folder. “Your heirlooms were retrieved from his possession. We also found a few documents about you, quite interesting because one of them declared you like Lord of the Slytherin house by right of conquest, which will enable you to achieve emancipation at fifteen if you wish. As requested by your mother, we retrieved your belongings and objects that belong to the thief that have the same value as the ones he took. An eye for an eye and all that; do you wish to examine what we retrieved?” he asked with a wide smile.

“So Albus Dumbledore is a thief who has a disturbing interest in me. If you don't mind I wish to examine what you retrieved,” Harry stated, placing a gentle hand on his sister's shoulder in order to calm her down. He observed the manager, who kept writing on his book. A few minutes later. Three goblins arrived - two carrying a large chest and the last one held different folders, they placed everything and left without words.

“If you will read and sign this, it is the contract for the purchase of the potion, three hundred and fifty galleons plus a fee of fifty. This contains the details of where and in possession of who we found your heirlooms and what we took from him, which are inside the chest. This folder contains information about the reserves, we will send you an update. This contains updated information about different magical schools plus backgrounds. However, we're unable to find the records of Sirius Black trial, which means he did not have one,” he announced frowning at his book.

“Thank you Manager Ragnok,” she said accepting the key and placing it in her bag.

“Do you know someone I can hire to make a discreet investigation?"

“In fact, I do. I will put you in contact as soon as possible.”

“There is no rush, I want someone reliable so take your time.”

Harry read the contract and signed, putting the other folders in his bag and going over the chest. Opening it with curious eyes, he took out a silvery cloak that seemed to flow like water, many old-looking books with the Potter sign of arms, a few things he did not recognize but decided to read their descriptions later on. What grabbed his attention were the books that did not belong to the Potters and a silver artefact that had something dark inside.

“The Potter invisibility cloak, the books about the Potters history and a few about their family magic, and de-activated portkeys that we retrieved. The books that belonged to the thief and a curious artefact that contains your blood,” the male announced.

“My blood... that means blood magic,” Harry almost asked, frowning at the object. “I entrust you the object for you to destroy after finding what it was used for, tell me how much it will be,” he requested, trying to control his rising anger.

“Consider it done, taking blood from a child is a heinous act,” the goblin stated looking perturbed while the girl tried to calm her brother.

“Thank you Manager Ragnok, in order to finish our reunion, I will retrieve the portkey to the Potter Castle, and take out two pouches with five hundred galleons each. I would also like to ask whether you know any enchantress or enchanter,” Harry requested politely, his face was still set in stone.

“It will be done... About the enchantress, we have a few working for Gringotts, I can contact them if you wish, for a fee,” he offered with a grin.

“Please do, I will leave the chest in your care until I arrive at the castle, I will be sending a house-elf to retrieve it later. We will be in contact and may your blade taste the blood of your enemies, Manager Ragnok,” he said inclining his head and his sister followed suit.

“And may your vaults flood with gold Mister Potter,” he bowed and the children left.

“Do you remember what you have to do?” he asked his sister once they left the bank.

“Of course I do,” she answered with a scowl. “First I go to Ollivander's to retrieve your wand and buy one for me, then I look for a trunk with at least three compartments but no pocket space, then to the bookstore because these savages do not understand what a communal library is and look for books published in the last decade. Then, if I have time, look for another place where clothes can be bought aside from what Hogwarts suggested and I wait for you in the only ice cream shop the brutes have,” she huffed, looking annoyed.

“Good, I have to buy a cloak in order to go to Knockturn Alley. Afterwards, we will look for potion ingredients and we will get a few owls, you can also get a pet,” he told her ignoring the almost manic grin that spread on her face at the idea of a pet. “Buy anything you deem necessary or catches your fancy,” he told her and parted ways.

Harry walked towards Madam Malkin's, annoyed at the attention he was receiving. Whether it was either his looks or his clothes, he didn't care, but he was about to murder the next idiot that stared at him. He entered the shop and eyed it with distaste, an old woman approached him wearing a horrid mauve dress, and he regretted ever entering the place.

“Good morning ma'am, I’m looking for robes,” he greeted, politeness feeling like acid in his mouth when being directed towards the woman who kept staring at him.

“Of course, it will be an honour to find robes for such a handsome young man. What about this one, it goes nicely with your eyes or maybe this...” she began blabbering annoying him further.

“A simple black robe,” he interrupted the woman.

“Of course dear, what about this one?"

“It is what I had in mind,” he answered, putting it on.

“That would be nineteen sickles,” she announced.

“Have a good day,” he muttered after handing the woman a galleon and leaving the place, hoping to never be forced to go back.

The ideas that wizards had about fashion were repulsive. Even when the store had a variety of hideous colours, the designs were all the same, that is without mentioning the cheap material. He hoped his sister found a decent clothing store, otherwise, he would need either to gouge his eyes out or establish a decent store. It was good he was too vain to do the former. Entering the Alley, he sneered at how filthy the streets and buildings were, defeated, he walked towards the bookstore his mother frequented. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the place, simple yet clean and organized. He walked inside the store looking for the clerk, who his mother had considered a dear friend. Behind a counter, a woman was lost in a book she seemed to be enjoying, as a fellow book enthusiast, he apologized internally for interrupting her.

“Good morning, madam,” Harry greeted the woman, a smile appeared on his face at her surprised expression.

“Oh my, you look just like her,” the woman whispered raising a hand a retrieving it immediately. “You are Lily's son, right?”

“My mother wrote about you, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, aunt Eleadora,” the boy greeted at the gentle woman.

“It is indeed a pleasure, dear,” she agreed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Harry exited the bookstore feeling accomplished, aunt Eleadora was just as his mother described: gentle, with a brilliant mind, and an almost unrivalled love for literature. They talked about his mother. About how much his father had opposed having her as godmother only because she was a hag, which earned the man a nice stay in the couch for a few months. They talked about his life and about the books she was no longer able to obtain from the muggle world. After a few hours, she dragged him out in order to not leave his sister waiting, not before giving him a couple of books and ripping a promise to keep in contact and introduce her to his sister.

He walked out of Knockturn Alley with a diminutive smile towards Florean's Fortesque, where his sister was waiting. She was easy to spot with that red cardigan she loved wearing, it was quite obvious she was angry by the way she kept stabbing her ice cream. Sighing at her fiery temper, he took a seat beside her.

“May I know what happened?” he asked, she took out a book and threw it at him. Once again, he thanked his fast reflexes, he didn't fancy a black eye.

“Sue them,” she demanded and kept stabbing her cold victim.

“I will,” he promised, eyeing with disgust a book that had his name claiming to be his adventures. “Aside from this, what else did you find?"

“No decent clothes shops, a place named Gladrags was hideous and apparently there exist only two clothing stores,” she almost whined and kept butchering her ice cream. “I got a trunk, four compartments. I requested the shop owner to keep it basic, but it is covered in dragonhide. Here is your wand, it electrocuted me when I tried to grab it,” she huffed, annoyed. “I also got my wand: rowan with dragon heartstring, 11 inches, quite rigid, an unusual combination. Or that is what the wandmaker said. I also got two maintenance kits and two wand holsters. By the way, I found another apothecary, it's more expensive than Mister Mulpepper's but I believe they have better quality,” she commented handing him his wand, which was covered with her handkerchief, much to his amusement.

Harry had always been able to use his magic, thus he considered the wand as unnecessary. However, the moment he touched it he knew he had been wrong. It felt like he had been missing something and was complete at last, it felt like a warm blanket on a gelid day... There were no words that would be able to convey the indescribable sensation.

“Let's get going then, I think you have already murdered your victim so I’m going to assume you are done,” he teased after a few moments and she pouted, but gathered her things.

“I have 231 galleons left. I had to give the wandmaker a bonus for your demon of a wand. Apparently, it tried to eviscerate him when he touched it. The poor man’s hands were covered in bandages. I guess I must be grateful because it had the decency of not trying to murder me,” she told him while leading the way towards the apothecary.

“Keep them, I will pay for the rest,” he told her and they walked with no words needed.

He looked at the store and already liked it better than the other one, it was named Juoma Apothecary. He smiled at his sister and they walked in looking at the organized ingredients, neat labels, and interesting materials.

“Good evening,” he greeted at the middle-aged woman who was behind the counter.

“Good evening, do you need something in particular?” she asked with curiosity shining in her eyes.

“Two first-year kits please,” he requested.

“I’m sorry, but we only sell beginner level kits and I believe it would be too much for Hogwarts,” she said looking quite sour at the idea.

“My mother loved potions and I hoped to follow her footsteps, so I think a beginner set will be appropriate,” he answered with gentleness.

“If that is the case I will get them, wait a moment please,” she told them with a cheery tone. True to her word, she arrived a few minutes later, levitating two large boxes that looked quite simple but had a few tasteful details in white. “I hope you find them useful, each one will be fifteen galleons.”

“Here you go ma'am,” he said taking out thirty gold coins and signalling the trunk for his sister to open. “Could you levitate the boxes to the trunk?"

“Of course, if you run out of any ingredient feel free to owl me,” she answered with a bright smile.

The siblings exited the apothecary heading towards Eeylops Owl Emporium, near the door, Elizabeth met eyes with an Andean condor knowing she would take him with her. Nearing the cage the shop owner grabbed her hand before she could pet him.

“Be careful, he is not a nice guy,” he commented.

“I want him,” she declared to the shopkeeper's dismay and relief.

“If you must,” Harry conceded, amused at the girl's antics. "We need at least three birds.”

The shopkeeper looked torn between amusement and wariness. While the man was entertained with the questionable choices of his sister, a breathtaking snowy owl landed in front of him. Finally understanding his sister's fascination, he chose her. Taking the birds with him to the counter, he almost smiled at the puzzled expression of the shop owner. His sister was waiting for him with three cages, on which there were two large birds and an overgrown barn owl.

In all his years, William Eeylops never had customers so bizarre. The little girl chose the most hostile birds he had the displeasure of meeting, looking at them as if they were adorable puppies. The boy would not have been too bad, only if he had never seen that owl before, and he remembered every single bird that passed through his shop. Thoroughly confused he told them the price and winced internally, knowing it was too high for the children to afford.

“Very well, would you add food, treats, and four perches?” the child asked and William nodded dumbly handing him what was requested and mumbling a new price. “Good, now I would like you to forget we came here and what we bought,” the child whispered after placing a heavy bag of galleons near the counter and the man nodded.

William shook himself out of his sleepy trance, manning a store was not simple. Three birds had managed to fly away a couple of days ago and now he was unable to find his favourite perch. Having your own business was not as glamorous as he imagined, but the positive thing is that he had found a bag full of gold that made up for any inconveniences... Maybe it was time to take a short vacation.

"Was that necessary?” Elizabeth asked watching the birds fly away.

“It was, we bought exotic birds and he would have remembered.”

“I meant to let the birds fly by themselves to the orphanage.”

“Ah, not necessary but it is cruel to keep living beings in a cage. They will find the orphanage, the paper I gave them had the exact directions. Let's go now, we can have dinner anywhere you choose.”

11th of July 1991, Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey

Petunia Dursley was having a horrible time. First, the freak came looking for the monster that was left in her care, after blissful years of peace, they came back. If that was not enough, the police came to their house to investigate, now she realized it had been stupid to lock the cupboard and pretend the child never happened without getting rid of his things. Her husband was in jail for child abuse and abandonment, she was in probation, and her child was about to be sent to a juvie. She cursed those blasted freaks that had ruined her life, she cursed the monster that had somehow given them away, and above all, she cursed her bloody sister for having everything Petunia ever dreamed of and more.

5th of August 1991, Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore was exhausted after the meeting with the staff, it was quite obvious Monday's were not his days. Last month, he had been occupied with his duties as head of the ICW, an onerous yet rewarding job.

He tried to ask many people and creatures to pay attention in case Harry Potter went to the Alley, but there were many obstacles. The goblins never gave personal information of an important client and Harry Potter was a really important client, even if the child didn’t know that yet. Garrick remembered every wand and the person he sold them to, however, he never revealed the information unless the person was present. Tom interacted with so many people every day that he barely recognized his own face and the same could be said for Madam Malkins. That is one of the reasons he had sent people he trusted to look out for young Harry, unfortunately, they had yet to report any information regarding the child, so he guessed he had yet to obtain his school materials.

He sighed once more, wondering where all his firewhisky had gone. Had he really drank it all? Never mind, Dumbledore had hoped that the child was enchanted with their world, unlike what he expected and wished, the boy had the minimum interest in the magical world and he feared the child would be sorted in a house other than Gryffindor. Thinking about him, he looked for the silver artefact and paled when he noticed it was missing. Running to his quarters, he looked for the books he took from Godric's Hollow, noticing those and many others of his personal collection missing, he almost got a cardiac arrest. With shaky hands, he opened the chest where he kept the invisibility cloak and the de-activated portkeys only to find it empty.

He kept looking at the chest willing it to appear. Nothing happened. He collapsed in the floor and buried his face in his hands in frustration. He had known that taking those heirlooms was not ethical, but it had been the right thing to do. The books contained dangerous knowledge, he had also wanted to hide the Potter grimoire from Harry but he had been unable to access any of the Potter's properties or even get close to the few he remembered, which was not much. Lily had performed the fidelius and now they were lost to the world.

If that was not enough, the invisibility cloak was gone. That object was dangerous in extreme, he had retrieved it the moment he could and, for a while, he toyed with the idea of giving it to Harry in order to gain his trust but all his plans were nought. He could go to the DMLE, but there was no way the artefacts would be tracked. Besides, what could he say? That someone had stolen what he stole from the Potters? He was frustrated but knew he was doing the right thing, Harry was too important for the peace of the magical world to allow him full knowledge of his roots... It was for the greater good.