A/N: This idea has been stuck in my head for long I finally gave in and started a story. Assume canon up through the end of OotP. Pretty sure the ship in this one is going to be a Harry/Susan story. Rated it M just in case. I hope you like it. Tell me what you think. I love reviews. They make me a better writer.

Thanks,

Drunken Prince

Standard Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter. Just the stuff I make up about him.

Chapter 1 – Desperate Acts

Harry Potter was sitting on the edge of his crappy beat up bed, wearing his crappy old clothes, staring at his crappy old trainers and in general hating everything. His only joy was his owl Hedwig. She was not present to perk him up at the moment because she was out hunting. Harry had been silently stewing in his own anger for hours now. It had been nine days since his godfather Sirius had been killed by Bellatrix LeStrange. It had been four days since he had been able to leave his bedroom! He had at first been allowed out of his room to use the restroom and do other chores. Harry hated it but at least he was able to move about. Then four days ago he was walking back to his bedroom from the loo. He wasn't paying much attention and he accidentally bumped into his Uncle, who coincidentally filled up over ¾ of the hallway at once. His uncle had been so enraged that he grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him down the hallway to his room. He was forcefully shoved onto his bed and slammed against the far wall the bed was pushed up to. His uncle slammed the door shut and locked the door from the outside. Harry heard the lock and the double dead bolts all engage, effectively sealing him in prison. His aunt had passed food and water through the doggy flap in the door a couple times each day. Then the second day his uncle opened the door and threw a bucket and loo roll at him. He hadn't seen anyone since. With nothing to do, and no one to talk to, Harry simply wallowed in his misery. He felt guilty about Sirius. He felt guilty about Hermione and Ron's injuries. He felt stupid about trying to face Bellatrix and Voldemort on his own. He was angry at his uncle. He was angry at Dumbledore for keeping so many secrets from him. He was angry at Bellatrix, and Lucius, and the death eaters in general. He was angry at himself for being so stupid and gullible. He was angry at the Order for standing outside and watching this house while he was literally being kept prisoner inside it. He wanted to scream! He wanted to fight! He wanted to kill death eaters! He wanted to make them pay. To suffer the way he had. The way Sirius had. The way Hermione had.

"Ahhhhhhh! Why can't I just get out of here? I just want to be able to walk through this wall and get out of here. No Order, no Uncle Vernon, no resistance. Is anybody out there is listening? Anybody at all? Anybody? Hello, some help here."

He stood and paced in his room for a bit. He was desperate enough to try just about anything. After all, magic was awesome. You could do just about anything with magic right? Magic could make you invisible. Check. Magic could get you from one place to another instantly. Check. Why couldn't magic let you walk through walls, or doors, or whatever was in your way? He figured it couldn't hurt to try. Nothing was worse than what he was facing right now. He stopped pacing and concentrated. He thought only about walking through that wall. He focused on walking through that wall and let his magic move towards that thought. It was a lot like when he cast a Patronus charm. He thought of his happy thought, let it fill him, and then pushed his magic towards that thought. It was the same here. He let the thought of walking through the wall fill him up, then he pushed his magic towards that thought. It connected, he could feel it. His magic was doing something. Whether or not it would work, he didn't know, but he had to try.

"Ok, it's now or never. Put up or shut up Potter," he admonished himself with a whisper. He cautiously headed towards the wall right next to his door, knowing it led to the hallway. He put his left hand out in front of himself and reached for the wall. It passed right through. Soon enough his whole body went right through the wall without any problem.

"Oh shit, it worked!" He said out loud. He quickly covered his mouth and looked around. He was in the upstairs hallway. He could hear the telly downstairs and knew his aunt and uncle were likely watching their evening programs. He figured his cousin was in his own room playing video games or watching porn or some such. He was about to head downstairs to see if he could sneak out when his cousin slammed open his door and came barreling down the hallway towards the loo. Harry had nowhere to go. But Dudley didn't see him. In fact he walked right past him without even a glance in Harry's direction. He wasn't expecting that. Just seconds before he was thinking of going back through the wall to get his invisibility cloak from his trunk. Now he figured he'd better test this out. He walked down the stairs and into the family room where his aunt and uncle watched television. He steeled himself for a confrontation and stepped into the room. Neither Dursley noticed him. He walked further into the room towards the telly. Still no response from his relatives. He stepped directly in front of the television and waved his hands around. Vernon and Petunia continued watching as if he wasn't even there. So apparently this new ability also made him invisible, at least to muggles. He needed to test it with magical people as well. The possibilities were endless if it worked. The other thing he noticed now was that he wasn't tired. Normally holding a spell for this long would completely tire him out, especially since he hadn't been eating much since being back at Number 4. Yet, he wasn't tired at all. It felt very natural. He felt like he could do this all day, which probably wasn't true, but he really did feel good while holding this spell, or ability, or whatever it was. His next thoughts led him to his growling stomach.

Right. He thought to himself. Gotta get some money, then some real food. I really wish they let us take apparition lessons during 5th year.

He was trying to decide how to get all the way to Diagon Alley when he remembered the time he was running from Dudley and his gang, desperately trying to get away, when he suddenly found himself on the roof of the school. He remembered it well. That wasn't apparition. He didn't remember making a sound, or feeling like he was squeezed through a tube like apparition is supposed to feel. Maybe there was something to all this.

If I did it once then I should be able to do it again right?

He concentrated on Gringott's bank and willed himself there with everything he had. In the blink of an eye he was standing in the lobby of the wizarding bank. There was no sound and no odd sensations. One second he was back at Privet Drive, the next he was here. It was that simple. No one had even noticed his arrival. In fact, right as he began to look around to scope out the landscape, a smallish goblin in a hurry to get somewhere walked right through his body. He was nearly in shock. That goblin had just walked right through him. It was like he was out of phase with the rest of the world. He didn't know how it was possible.

I love magic!

He watched and waited for a few minutes to take in the situation around him. There were very few wizards in the bank. It was after 9 pm so he assumed most wizards and witches were either home or settled in at the pub. He watched and waited until he was sure there was no one who would see him and he walked towards a goblin teller. As he did he allowed himself to 'phase' back to normal. The teller was not ready for someone to appear right in front of him like that and threw up his hands and made the strangest sound Harry had ever heard. It sounded like a cross between a growl and a squeal. Then the little teller lost his balance and fell backwards out of the raised chair he was sitting in. Harry couldn't help but chuckle, but he did so quietly and hid his face. Soon enough the goblin had righted himself and crawled back up into his chair. With as much dignity as he could muster the goblin said "and what can I do for you this evening?"

Harry responded. "I'd like to withdraw some gold from my vault if you wouldn't mind sir."

"Name?"

"Harry Potter."

The goblin looked up at Harry a little more carefully. Clearing his throat he offered. "Please wait here just a moment."

He scurried off towards the back rooms where Harry had never been on the opposite side of the bank from the vault entrance. After a few moments two goblins returned from the same door that his teller had disappeared into. They made their way towards him and while his teller returned to his chair, the other goblin walked directly up to him.

"Mr. Potter. I am Bloodfist an account manager here at Gringotts. We have some business we need to discuss with you, would you mind heading to my office just over this way?" He pointed towards the door he had just come from.

"Sure." Harry responded warily but followed the goblin towards the door anyway.

Bloodfist opened the door and led Harry through to a hallway with at least 20 identical doors on either side. Bloodfist kept walking until he reached a door maybe half way down. He led Harry into an opulent office with enormous bookshelves and a majestic mahogany and marble desk. Instead of pictures or paintings, the walls were adorned with tapestries that depicted battles and war. Despite their graphic detail and gruesome depictions, Harry had to admit that they were probably masterpieces in their own right. Bloodfist motioned Harry towards a chair facing the overlarge desk. Still a bit apprehensive, Harry sat slowly and waited for the goblin to continue.

"Can I assume Mr. Potter, that you have not received our owls requesting your presence immediately?"

"I haven't seen a single owl all summer except my own owl, Hedwig, and my friend Ron's owl, Pigwigeon."

"It would seem Mr. Potter that someone quite powerful is attempting to keep us from contacting you."

"That would be Dumbledore then. I've recently discovered that he's been keeping secrets from me and meddling in my life for quite some time now." As angry as Harry was right now he thought it best to maintain his cool and keep a level head around the goblins. He had noticed that they responded well to courteous speech as well as a calm demeanor.

"I suspected as much. There may be some things we can do to remedy that but first I have to verify that you are in fact Harry James Potter." Bloodfist handed him an ornate dagger and small dish. "Please place a sample of your blood in this container to verify your identity."

Harry took the dagger and sliced his palm, then made a fist and squeezed the blood into the dish. As soon as he opened his fist to assess the cut he was surprised to see it healing itself already. He smiled at the quality of magic the goblins used. He had a feeling the goblins as a whole were a lot more powerful than most wizards thought.

Bloodfist took the dagger and the dish and said, "Very well Mr. Potter your identity has been confirmed and your vaults have been keyed into your blood. The reason I asked you to join me here is because I am the account manager responsible for the Black family accounts. The will of Sirius Orion Black has been verified as authentic and has instructions to be enacted immediately upon his death. You are the sole beneficiary of the estate as well as the recognized Legal and Magical Heir of the previous Lord Black. Upon his death you became Lord Black as he removed the age restriction placed upon the title and estate. His wishes also declared you an emancipated minor under wizarding and magical law. As such, you are now able to claim the Lordship of your own House of Potter as well. An accounting of your holdings has been prepared and will be given to you once you've concluded your other business here." Bloodfist then handed over two wooden boxes to Harry. "These are your Head of House rings for the House of Potter and Black. These rings can only be worn by you, cannot be removed except by you, and have emergency portkeys built in to both your designated home and to St. Mungos. If you place your off thumb to the crest on either ring and simply state 'home' or 'healer', the ring will do the rest. These rings are also undeniable proof of identity here a Gringotts and will serve as your key."

Harry took both rings and placed them on his right hand. The Potter ring he slid onto his ring finger and the Black ring on his middle finger.

"Do you happen to have a way to remove gold without having to travel down to the vaults, in order to expedite purchases for me?"

"Of course." The goblin snapped his fingers and a black credit card appeared in his hand. "This card can be scanned magically at any magical business and be used as a bank draft. In the muggle world it can be used as a regular credit card and will automatically calculate currency and withdraw the correct amounts from your vault."

"Thank you very much Bloodfist. This will save me all sorts of time. I'd also like to remove anyone who has access to my accounts besides myself please."

"It is done Lord Potter-Black. Do you have any further requests?"

Harry shook his head in the negative.

"Then I thank you for your time today at Gringotts. In this folder are the accountings of all your holdings both for the Potter and Black accounts. You will also find a letter from the previous Lord Black addressed directly to you. If we have no other business then I bid you goodnight Lord Potter-Black and may your vaults be filled to overflowing."

"Thank you Bloodfist, and yours as well."

HP+++++++++HP+++++++++HP

As he stepped out of Gringotts Harry decided it was safer to find something to eat in muggle London. He phased back to invisible and headed out towards the Leaky Cauldron. When he got to the barrier at the pub he wondered if he could walk through a magical wall as easily as a non-magical one. Sure enough the brick barrier offered no resistance and Harry was able to walk through the Leaky without being noticed by anyone at all.

Just a few blocks away he found a muggle pub that was advertising the world's best fish and chips. He went in and ordered himself a double order of fish and chips and large cola. Just like Bloodfist said his new credit card worked flawlessly and Harry sat down to the first decent meal of his summer. As he was eating he opened the folder he had received from Gringotts. He was floored by the information it contained. He was pretty sure he was one of the wealthiest people in Britain. He seemingly owned a third of the businesses in Diagon Alley and several elsewhere as well. The list of residential properties he owned was unbelievable. On the Black side every property had a long term tenant except Grimmauld Place and a summer home in France. On the Potter side he was surprised to find that he was actually the owner of the Burrow as well as the Rookery where Luna and her father lived, both in Ottery St. Catchpole. He would have to do something about that later. What he was looking for was found near the bottom of the page.

Potter Manor, Brecon Wales.

Harry had every intention of leaving Number 4 Privet Drive within the next 24 hours. His plan was to take up residence in Potter Manor and start to build a life for himself that didn't include starvation and locked doors. He also wanted to hire some magical tutors to help him with dueling and transfiguration. He needed clothes and food too. He'd have to see about all that once he was away from Privet Drive and settled into Potter Manor. The thing about all this was he couldn't shake the extreme anger he'd been feeling. Most of it was directed towards Voldemort and his death eaters, and to a lesser extent, towards Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix. He was mad at Dumbledore, but he knew Dumbledore well enough to know he didn't mean to be evil. He just made bad choices that led towards evil for Harry. Voldemort, Malfoy, Bellatrix, and the rest of the death eaters relished in every ounce of pain and anguish they caused for him. They intended to kill every time they put on those masks. Trying to push the negative thoughts aside he opened the letter from Sirius.

Pup,

It's not your fault. Whatever happened, and however I bought it, it wasn't your fault. If I'm dead the reason is Voldemort. Dumbledore probably didn't help either but he doesn't intend to hurt us, he's just an old dumbass. It's Voldemort's fault and those masked bastards that do his bidding. You know me. You know I'm as 'light' as they come, but enough is enough. It's time to take the fight to them. It's time to make them pay. You have the right to avenge me. You have the right to avenge your mum and dad. It's time to do something.

You have to kill them all pup. Every single fucker that has that mark, then the snake faced bastard himself. Kill every single one, and don't think twice about it.

Love you pup. I always have and I always will.

Padfoot

Harry folded up the letter and wiped the tear from his eye. Sirius was right. It was time to start fighting fire with fire, and it started tonight.

HP+++++++++HP+++++++++HP

Old Tom picked up the early copy of the Daily Prophet that was always delivered straight to his bar at the Leaky Cauldron. He was hoping today there was nothing about You-Know-Who and his death eaters. He read the title on the first page story.

Azkaban Break In?

By David Oliver

Ministry officials are scrambling this morning to make sense of the deaths of forty-seven inmates in the permanent occupant wing of Azkaban prison. Early in the morning hours it was discovered that every single prisoner who bore the Dark Mark of You-Know-Who was found dead of apparent heart failure. There were no signs of forced entry. There were no signs of foul play, and the wards of the prison were never set off.

Prisoners in the permanent wing are found dead fairly regularly as this wing gets the most direct exposure to the effects of the dementors, however there has never been a single day in prison history where more than three prisoners were found dead on the same day. Adding to the mystery is the fact that each victim bore the Dark Mark. It doesn't take too much thought to deduce that someone or something did this intentionally. Among the victims were brand new residents to Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy, Augustus Rookwood, and Antonin Dolohov. This reporter does not necessarily condone killing or violence, however one must ask, especially considering the recent mass breakouts and the apparent unreliability of the dementors: Did the person or thing responsible for this actually do us a favor? Is it possible that this is some hero in the shadows? Do we owe this Shadow Hunter a debt of gratitude for ridding us of our society's worst? I am reluctantly grateful. I wonder if you feel the same.