Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K Rowling as does the Harry Potter world.

Chapter 1: Getting Free

Harry stared out the open window of the car as the buildings and crowds of people flashed by. A woman was screaming at her child for wandering into traffic. A couple of teenagers flashed by on skateboards, only to be chased off by a constable on the corner. A businessman in a dark brown suit covertly exchanged packages with a bum sitting in an alley. A warm breeze blew through the window, ruffling Harry's hair and making Dudley whine to his parents in the front seat. A moment later the window was rolled up and the breeze was gone.

But Harry saw and heard none of this. His thoughts were on the events that transpired at the end of his last term at Hogwarts. Again in his mind Harry saw his godfather, Sirius Black, fall through back through the archway. Harry had a hard time accepting that Sirius was really gone, that the archway was really a doorway to the underworld.

Harry felt a prickling behind his eyes and a tightening in his throat. He took a deep breath and tried to move his thoughts onto another less depressing subject. He was unsuccessful here, as his mind immediately turned to his friends. While Ginny and Neville were in and out of the hospital wing in a matter of minutes, Ron and Hermione were still recovering. No one knew the full effects the brain would have on Ron and he was under close supervision by his parents for any strange behavior. Hermione would forever carry the scar from the unknown curse cast by death eater Antonin Dolohov. She would be on potions for the next month to counter the effects.

Once again Harry had endangered his friends because he blindly rushed into a situation. He got his godfather killed, his closest friends injured, and proved to everyone that he was as reckless and unbalanced as the newspapers claimed. The only good that came from the whole thing was the Ministry was finally forced to admit that Voldemort was back and a real threat. It didn't matter that Harry had been saying that for the last year.

Harry shook his head and focused his thoughts on the here and now. He noticed the car was passing the part of town where the Leaky Cauldron was located. In a slip-second decision Harry called out to his Aunt and Uncle. "Stop the car. Let me out here!"

Instead of listening to him, Uncle Vernon simply glanced at his through the rear view mirror. "Why should we let you out? After what your freaky friends said to me," here his face took on a deep purple flush before going pale. This cycle repeated a few times as Vernon remember the accusations followed by the monstrosity of freakishness that was Mad-eye Moody.

Harry did a little digging around in his pockets and came out with a handful of gold galleons. "I'll make it worth your while if you stop and let me out."

Vernon's eyes had latched onto the gold and Harry could practically see the greed warring with the fear in his eyes. The greed won, because Vernon stomped on the breaks and brought the car to a sudden stop in the middle of the street. Twisting around as much as a man his size could, Vernon reached his arm over the back of the seat and swiped the gold right out of Harry's hand. "Fine, get out, but if your freaky friends come asking about you, we'll tell them you left all on your own."

Harry quickly opened the door and scurried out, he barley had enough time to get his trunk onto the pavement before his uncle stepped on the gas and tore up the street. Harry watched them go until a car honked behind him and reminded him that he was still standing in the middle of the street. He dragged his trunk to the sidewalk as he got his bearings. He recognized the area as being only two blocks from Charring Cross Road where the Leaky Cauldron was.

As Harry dragged his trunk up the sidewalk he tried to think about what he was going to do next. The decision to stay in London had been a rash and swift one, he had no plans beyond getting to the Leaky Cauldron. He did know, however, that he was tired of having his life dictated for him by the media, the ministry, and all the adults in his life who thought because they were older they knew what was best for him. No one had been looking out for Harry since his parents had died and he was left on his Aunts doorstep. He had been forced to defend himself from bullies, mainly his cousin Dudley, before he went to Hogwarts and once there he had defended himself from death eaters, giant snakes, dementors, and Voldemort. All this he did without help from the adults in his life. Why did they think he needed their help now?

Once the Leaky Cauldron was in sight Harry turned his attention to the problem of getting into the wearing world without being recognized. Pulling his trunk into an alley he opened it and took out the largest shirt he had. It was a castoff of Dudley's of course and would have easily drowned Harry had he ever worn it. Using all his strength Harry was able to tear a strip from the hem. This he tied around his forehead, under the fringe, to hide his scar. It wasn't a great disguise, and might actually attract more attention than not, but it was better than nothing. repacking the remains of the shirt into his trunk, Harry proceeded into the Leaky Cauldron.

He kept his head down as he walked to the door and was satisfied when no one shouted his name or seemed to recognize him at all. Approaching Tom, the innkeeper, he announced in a gruff voice that he had business to do in the alley and would like to leave his trunk behind the bar. Tom was more than happy to accommodate this poor man, who seemed by his poor fitting clothes, to be rather down on his luck, but he could only hold the trunk for the rest of the night and if it wasn't removed by the morning it would be turned over to the authorities to be claimed from them. Once free of his trunk Harry proceeded out the back door and into Diagon Alley.

Harry walked down the cobbled street, keeping his head down and eyes off the people rushing around him. The mood of the alley was subdued now that confirmation had come from the ministry that Voldemort was back. People walked quickly between shops and talked in hushed tones. The laughter and cheer that filled the air during Harry's previous visits were gone, replaced by furtive glances and suspicious questions. Harry could feel eyes on him, but luckily no one seemed to recognize him.

He had decided that while he might not know where he was going or what he was doing he would need money so his first stop would be Gringotts. He had used the last of his gold to bribe Uncle Vernon and would need to replenish his supply from his vault if he wanted to do anything.

As Harry reached the ivory building that held Gringotts bank, he adverted his eyes from the poem written beside the doors. One thing Harry had learned during his stay in the wizarding world was that magic came in all different forms, that sometimes, just reading something could activate a spell. This is what happened when someone read the poem at Gringotts, they bound themselves to an unwritten contract to not steal from the bank and take the punishment if they did.

Harry joined the throng of people entering the building. It seemed that many people were withdrawing money from Gringotts today, the threat of war definitely made people doubt the safety of their money with Voldemort running around. Harry waited in line behind a small family of four. The father was tall and lean, dressed in stiff black robes. He kept glancing around nervously and his hand was clenched tight around his vault key. The mother was equally thin but a head shorter then her husband. She kept a tight grip on the hands of her children, two small boys, about seven years in age. Once the family reached the counter, the father leaned in really close to the goblin, who's nametag read Axegrinder, and whispered the account number and name of the family, glancing around the whole time. A goblin Harry recognized as Griphook was called forward to escort the family to the cart that would take them to their vault.

Harry stepped up to the counter and greeted the goblin, "Heath and riches to you Axegrinder." Harry had read the traditional goblin greeting in a book on magical creatures the last few days of the term. He has spent many nights in the library, sneaking in under his invisibility cloak and reading until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.

"Health and riches to you sir." The goblin looked surprised by the polite greeting, used to dealing with humans who treated him like office furniture. "What can Gringotts do for you today?"

By extending the name of Gringotts the goblin had offered all the services of the bank, not just a ride to the vaults. Harry was surprised at the consideration and the shock must have shown on his face because the goblin leaned across the desk and whispered to him, "Gringotts honors those who honor them. What can we do for you?"

Harry raised his hands to his head and lifted the strip of cloth to reveal his scar.

A slight widening of the eyes was the only change in expression the goblin made. "I understand sir, you will want to speak with our Head of Special Accounts, Chief Goblin Firedome. His office is down the hall, I'll have a goblin escort you."

Harry was again surprised by the goblin and, after readjusting the cloth to cover his scar, he followed the smaller goblin that had come forward at a motion of Axegrinders hand. 'Down the hall' actually meant down the hall, through two rooms full of busy humans and goblins working over mounds of gold silver and copper coins, down two more seemingly endless corridors, a left at a painting of four richly dressed goblins around a table, a right at a statue of a griffin, and up a long sweeping staircase. Finally Harry was left to wait in an antechamber while the small goblin went through a huge set of golden doors.

While he was gone, Harry took the time to examine the room in which we waited. The doors were etched with a magical creatures such as griffins, phoenix, thestrals, unicorns, and hippogriffs Harry even thought he saw a basilisk wrapped around the doorknob. The walls of the room were ivory marble flecked with gold. The floor was similar but rich Persian rugs were placed at intervals to deaden the echo of the room. Expensive looking paintings were hung in large frames made from precious materials like ivory and platinum, also woods like ebony and mahogany. Harry was standing before one of these paintings, a dignified goblin dressed in rich red velvet robes lines with gold brocade, in a wooden frame of an interesting crimson.

"Founder Gringotts in a frame of blood wood, most appropriate wouldn't you so?"

The voice was deep and cultured and, most surprisingly, came from Harry's elbow. He looked over to meet black eyes of the goblin beside him. This goblin was much larger than any Harry had seen previously, only about a foot shorter then Harry himself. The goblin was also dressed in an extravagant way, a long acromantula silk robe of deep green with bronze embroidery over black trousers and black shirt with the same bronze embroidery of twists and vines. Harry wasn't an expert by any means, nowhere near Hermione, but he thought he saw a few ruins for protection and health stitched into the designs near the goblins throat and wrists.

"Chief Goblin Firedome?" Harry asked the question as the bowed deeply in the goblins direction.

The goblin bowed back just as deeply, "Yes, and may I say First Lord Potter, it is an honor and a privilege to finally meet you.