It was the 5th of August, and Harry Potter's request to spend his summer holiday with the Weasleys at the Burrow had once again been denied by his headmaster; Albus Dumbledore. He didn't understand why he had to stay at the Dursleys (his only living relatives)- they certainly didn't want him anywhere near them.
He was still seething inside over the headmaster's words to him the day before he left Hogwarts:

"I know you don't want to go back to your aunt and uncle, my boy, but I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. The blood wards that keep you and your family protected needs to be recharged, and they won't be able to do just that if you aren't there, will they, Harry? And I'm sure you're just exaggerating about their treatment towards you. I'm aware you've been going through some rough times as of late, with Sirius's passing and all, but I'm sure spending some time with your family will help."

Harry had pleaded with the old man, he'd nearly begged at one point, but the man wouldn't relent. It was almost as if he wanted Harry to go back to the abuse and the malnourishment...

Harry had never told anyone about his thoughts and suspicions, not even his closest friends; Ron and Hermione, but he'd been doubting the headmaster's motives and actions since last year. What kind of headmaster allows a fourteen-year-old boy compete in a tournament, in which students have died, and in which the other contestants were both older and wiser? Didn't he hold the power to withdraw Harry from it all?

Maybe he'd wanted to see how Harry would handle it all, if he was strong enough to survive the three tasks? Perhaps it was all a test, just as it had been with the Philosopher's Stone in his first year. Harry was certain that Dumbledore knew about Voldemort's presence in the school, the wards surrounding the castle must have notified him that a Dark wizard was inside, but he chose to let Harry handle everything, just to see how he would handle it.

The same thing had happened in his second year, when the Chamber of Secrets had been opened again. Dumbledore didn't do anything, instead he let two twelve-year-old boys venture down into a centuries old chamber, where it was speculated that an ancient monster resided, to save the life of another student.

No, Harry didn't have any trust in Dumbledore any more. He'd caused too much damage, controlled his life too much. Did he believe that Harry's life was to be played with? A pawn to do all his dirty work?

All thoughts about how much Dumbledore controlled his life, and how gullible and naïve he'd been to let it happen, had caused Harry to fall into a depression. He did everything the Dursleys ordered him to do without complaining, he barely ate the food he got, he barely slept at night due to nightmares of both Cedric's and Sirius's deaths. All in all, he was a wreck.

But what he did do was planning. He refused to let his life be controlled by others any longer. He was his own person, his life was his to live. Why should he let himself be dictated and told by the rest of the Wizarding world? Why should he listen to them? They only wanted one thing from him: to kill the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Unlike others, he'd never been afraid of speaking the Dark Lord's name out loud. He didn't fear the man, so there was no reason for him to fear his name.

Harry suspected his lack of fear had been added to the list of reasons as for why Voldemort wanted him dead. He wanted his enemies to fear him; his power, his dark magic. To see fear in his victims eyes before they died. But the one person who didn't fear him was his nemesis; Harry, and Dumbledore.

Harry had always wondered why Voldemort had targeted his family when he just but a baby. He'd finally got his answer: because of a bloody prophecy. After the events in the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore had revealed it to Harry. Needless to say, Harry had been furious with the old man. To withhold such important information, and for so long... Harry didn't feel an ounce of regret for destroying most of the headmaster's office.

"Boy! Get down here and start making dinner. We're expecting guests tonight, so don't you dare mess anything up!" Vernon Dursley's shouted from downstairs.

Harry sighed, but complied. He knew, from bitter experience, that it was better to obey than disobey in the hell hole he lived in.

-00-

A few hours later, Harry returned to his room, feeling exhausted. After making dinner for six people, not including himself, his aunt had ordered him to clean the entire ground floor. When she was satisfied with the result, she'd sent him back upstairs with a small plate of food. Hedwig was nowhere in sight. She was probably out hunting. Harry tried to keep her in her cage as little as possible; he didn't want her to feel trapped and cut off from the rest of the world like he did. But he missed the company she would give. Even though she was only an owl, she was still his friend.

–

Back to the planning and plotting.

Harry had, with the help from Hedwig, of course, corresponded with a friend within Gringotts, the goblin Griphook, the Wizarding bank. Through his friend, he had gotten his hands on his parents' and Sirius's wills, something Dumbledore apparently had tried to hide from him. Griphook had been absolutely furious when Harry told him this, and vowed to make the old man pay for his actions. Harry was glad he at least had one friend in the Wizarding world who wasn't under Dumbledore's thumb.

He found out that not only was he the heir to the Potter family, he had also been named as Siriu's heir, which in turn made him emancipated since no one from the respective families were alive- another thing Dumbledore hadn't told him.

The first thing he'd done after finding out about his emancipation, was to withdraw a rather large amount of money from his vault and to rent an apartment in the village Hogsmeade. He signed the contract in another name, since he didn't want the old man to find out about his freedom from his relatives.

He planned on letting Dumbledore know of his emancipation; he couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he found out he wouldn't be able to control the saviour any more. He could try, but it still wouldn't change anything. In the end, Dumbledore was nothing but Harry's headmaster. When Harry found out that the old man had assigned himself as his magical guardian, he had immediately given the position to Remus Lupin, who had gladly accepted. Yet another thing the old man hadn't told him.

-00-

Harry had left the job of buying the furniture and decorating his new apartment to Dobby, and oddly enough, Winky, who'd been more than honoured to help him. He knew Dobby wouldn't buy anything he wouldn't want, the odd little elf knew him remarkably well. Dobby had burst into tears when he'd been given the responsibility. Luckily Winky had been there to knock him out of his stupor.

It didn't take long, maybe two weeks at most, before the two little elves appeared in Harry's room, declaring they were finished, and offered to bring him to his soon-to-be new home for an inspection.

Harry had been absolutely delighted with the result, causing Dobby and Winky to burst into tears of joy of having pleased their friend and unofficial Master.

When he told his relatives he'd be moving out, they couldn't have been happier. Later he could hear Dudley planning on what he'd do with yet another room, and shook his head in disgust. As if his whale of cousin wasn't spoiled enough. But he couldn't deny that he, too, was happy of not having to live with his horrid family any longer.

The blood wards hadn't been any problem, to his amazement and fury. Griphook had assured him that as long as someone related to Harry still lived in Nr. 4 Privet Drive, the blood wards would remain. Yet another thing Dumbledore hadn't told him. That man had a lot to answer for.

He had left Surrey the very same evening, too eager to wait any longer. He hadn't bothered to say goodbye to his relatives, they wouldn't care anyway. Dobby had transported him to his new home with a simple flick with his fingers and the first thing he did was to throw himself on top of his new bed. He was finally free.