I've personally always had an interest in the Patronus charm, which spawned this whole story idea. It was clearly the most advanced spell Harry ever learned, but I wanted to see him do more with it.

This story will probably not have Evil!Dumbledore, but I'm not 100% sure. Harry will likely be losing his friendships with the Weasleys, since I dislike Ron and hate Ginny.

It might look like it at first, but I am NOT using the cliche of nice goblins, for those of you who think the concept is overused. Also, don't let the fact that Harry will be an heir to multiple Founders to mean the same things as it does in most fics. What I'm planning to do with it is something that I've never seen before.

The concept of Alar is borrowed from the Name of the Wind. It's certainly going to be very useful, but it is not a substitute for Occlumency.

Chapter 1 – Time in Diagon

Harry closed the book with a frown on his face. After seeing the power his Patronus had, he'd begun to research them. If a wizard could defeat over a hundred dementors with one patronus, the wizarding world was far too frightened by them. Hell, he was too scared of them.

However, Harry's research had shown him that it was rare for a wizard to be able to hold off multiple dementors for a few minutes, let alone drive them off. It explained why Lupin had been so surprised that he'd made such quick progress with the spell. He'd continued to practice with the incredible charm, if only to make sure he could do it again if he was in a similar situation.

The spell was supposed to be insanely difficult, requiring a powerful magical core and intense focus. Every wizard had their area of specialty, and if Harry had to guess, he'd say that the Patronus was his. Thankfully, the library had a small book on the subject. It had been misfiled, as it had the same marking that other books in the restricted section, but he didn't mind.

The book was written by a former warden of Azkaban, who was said to have been a master of the charm. Apparently, the Patronus was once considered to be considered similar to the most powerful dark magic spells, before there was such a division between light and dark magic, due to the need for intense emotion in its casting. He believed that wizards had barely scratched the surface of what the charm could do. The spell could help with the influence of dark magic, even acting as a shield against some spells. A corporal form, cast by a strong enough wizard with a powerful focus, could concievably be used like an animal conjuration, actually attacking others with the spell. He believed that it was possible to change the form of your Patronus, with an incredible amount of mental strain.

The mental discipline provided by something called Occlumency was supposed to help, but Harry couldn't find any books that provided more information on the subject, beyond the fact that it was a mental discipline that helped greatly with spellcasting, as well as memory retention. He even snuck in at night the next night, using his father's old cloak, to search the Restricted Section. When all else failed, he decided to try something else.

Harry made his way to the stone gargoyle.

"Um…" He hesitated, feeling weird talking to a statue, even one that he knew moved around. "Could you tell Professor Dumbledore that I'd like to talk to him?"

The gargoyle seemed to lean in, staring into his eyes. Harry got the impression that it was judging him. He squirmed a bit, before, much to his surprise, the gargoyle moved aside, allowing him to climb the stairs to the Headmaster's office.

"Come in, Harry, come in." Dumbledore's voice called out, before Harry had even touched the door. He pushed inside. "I was just working on some paperwork. What can I do for you, my boy?"

"Well… You said that I could come talk to you if I needed anything, right?" At the headmaster's nod, he continued. "Well, a book I was reading mentioned something called Occlumency. I looked everywhere, but couldn't find anything. Even Hermione wasn't sure what it was…"

"Ah." Dumbledore sighed. "Occlumency is an interesting subject. It is a semi-restricted form of magic, not on its own merit, but because of the need for its other half, Legilimency, to test it, or even have a need for it. Legilimency is a heavily restricted form of magic. A muggle might call it mind reading, though that is not quite correct. Either way, to used Legilimency on anyone without explicit permission is illegal. Why are you interested in Occlumency, Harry?"

"Well, a book I was reading said that it helped a lot with spellcasting, as well as memory retention. I figured that I could use all the help I can get." He shrugged. "I figured that I could try to learn it over the summer, since I have nothing better to do. If it's a mental thing, I probably wouldn't be in trouble for learning it."

"Unfortunately, Harry, I cannot allow you to practice unsupervised. It is both dangerous and illegal." At Harry's crestfallen look, he continued. "However, I would be happy to find you an instructor next year."

Harry looked up, surprise on his face. "Really? Thank you, sir." He hesitated, before deciding to press onward. "I don't suppose that you have a book I could study over the summer, if I promise not to try and actually learn it?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Eager, aren't you, Harry. No, I'm afraid that the texts are likewise semi-restricted. It would be quite a fine if anyone saw you with a book on the subject outside of certain locations." He thought for a moment, seeing the diappointment on Harry's face, before seeming to come to a decision. He opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a small book. "However, I did recently recieve a book on a more unknown mental discipline… I have not had a chance to leaf through it myself, but I'm sure you can put it to good use."

Harry accepted the book with wide eyes. "Thank you so much, sir! I truly appreciate it."

"You're quite welcome, Harry. Do say goodbye to Fawkes on the way out." He hoped that he could mend fences with the boy. After everything that had happened to the child, he deserved all the help Dumbledore could give him.

Harry stopped by the firebird to pet it, remembering how it had saved him against the basilisk. "Thanks again, Fawkes." The bird released a soft note that somehow said 'you're welcome'.

With a smile, Harry headed off to Gryffindor Tower, eager to take a look at his new book. He glanced at the cover.

"The Principles of Alar, huh? Sounds interesting."

Alar, also called the riding-crop belief, is the ability to believe something, even something that you know to be completely false, so utterly that witnessing something contradicting your belief will not even shake it. The second stage of this discipline is the ability to hold two contradicting beliefs in your mind at once. A master practicioner of the discipline can hold half a dozen beliefs in their mind at once, even if they all contradict each other.

Alar is an incredibly complicated mental art, one that can drive the unprepared quite mad. It requires an intense mental fortitude that most are unable to muster. However, the benefits are quite immense. Alar allows the user to manipulate their own mind. It provides a powerful defense against Legilimency, and allows the user to divide their mind, granting them the ability to devote their entire intellect against multiple thoughts simultaneously.

These divisions allow the user to wield some of the more powerful spells, those that require both emotion and intent, without fear of losing themselves in the power and emotional backlash. For any task requiring focus, Alar is an ideal method to assist you, assuming you are able to master it.

Below are some examples of exercises you can use to attempt to develop your Alar:

Harry sighed as the train pulled into the station. As much as he hated his relatives, they'd leave him alone… probably. Right now, he wanted little more than to go to sleep. He had stayed up late two nights ago reading the book, then spent most of yesterday practicing. It had taken a lot of work, but he had managed to develop a rather strong Alar. His mind could be divided into two halves almost instantly, though he could split off a third division if he really needed to. It really was quite useful. Luckily, learning how to do it didn't drive him insane.

He had, thankfully, remembered to cast a featherlight charm on his trunk before leaving the school. It would wear off in a day or two, but it would be enough to get him back to the hellhole. He should really look into getting one with a permanent one on it.

He said goodbye to his friends and made his way over to his uncle.

"Hi, Uncle," Harry started, planning to use the 'murderer' status of his godfather to trick them into treating him better, only to be cut off.

"Shut up and get in the car, freak." Vernon hissed. Harry, wary of his uncle's wrath, got into the backseat, with Vernon throwing Hedwig, still in her cage, and his trunk in with him. Harry opened his mouth to yell at his uncle for the treatment of Hedwig, only to snap it shut again when his uncle sped out of the parking lot.

Harry divided his mind, coming up with various reasons as to why his uncle was acting like this, while the other half was paying attention, just in case something happened. He was becoming more inquisitive with the Alar, just developing it had required him to use his mind a lot more, and he didn't really mind.

To his surprise, Vernon drove into an alley, before turning off the car. The huge man stepped out of the car, before tearing open Harry's door. He grabbed Harry's collar. "Get out of my car, freak!" Vernon spat, throwing his much lighter nephew into a wall. Hedwig's cage was thrown next, followed by the trunk.

Hedwig's squawking of fear was enough to bring him back from the painful haze that had enveloped his mind when his head hit the wall.

"What the hell?" He demanded.

"Did you really think we'd take you back after what you did to Marge?" Vernon roared. His meaty fist rammed into Harry's stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Harry collapsed. "That creepy teacher of yours said we had to come get you, but there's no way your setting foot in my home again! Have fun in the middle of London, freak!" Vernon laughed as he drove off.

Harry wheezed as he got to his feet, the breath knocked out of him. It was surprising how easy it was to shove the pain off into another division. It didn't stop him from feeling it, but it did allow him to act as though he didn't, since that part of his mind was dealing with it. He reached down and lifted up Hedwig's cage.

"He's a ass, isn't he, girl? Sorry about that. Can you lead me to the Leaky Cauldron, girl?" He asked the snowy owl as he opened the door. The intelligent bird flew to the ground in front of him, waiting. Harry smiled as he watched her. He might not know where he was in relation to it, but Hedwig always did.

Thanking himself for remembering to cast the feather charm on his trunk, he lifted it up and followed Hedwig to the Alley. Thankfully, Hedwig flew in the air high above him, so no one noticed him being led around by a bird. He got enough weird looks from the empty cage.

"Hi Tom." Harry said with a tired smile to the owner of the Cauldron as he stumbled into the pub. "I need a room again this year."

The older man smiled back. "The same room's open, Harry. We can deal with the payment later. You look like you could use some rest."

Harry sighed in relief. "Thanks Tom." He said as he hefted his trunk up to the room.

Harry spent the next few days enjoying himself in Diagon Alley. He restocked all of his ingredients and bought new clothing. He was sick of wearing Dudley's cast offs. Thankfully, Madam Malkins stocked a lot of muggle clothing as well, since wizards needed to go out into the muggle world as well.

He also picked up a new trunk, one with built in featherlight and security charms. This one was rather interesting. It had three compartments. The first was a bottomless one. The enchantment made it a normal sized trunk while empty, but if he tried to push more, or something too large into it, the compartment would expand more to accommodate it. The second compartment was designed to store potions and other projects. It was protected, ensuring that even if he kept a cauldron inside and threw it off a cliff, it would be in the same shape as it was when he put it inside. The third compartment was a bottomless bookshelf. It was just two rows at the moment, but it would expand more if he needed more space.

More importantly, he picked up a number of books on both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He'd had enough of Trelawny's predictions, even if one of them had come true. With Hermione's help, he could probably catch up, though it would take a lot of work. Thankfully, his Alar would help a lot.

Surprisingly, he was quite good at both subjects. His Alar assisted memory allowed him to memorize the runes, including both description and effects. He'd always been good at math, and it helped a lot with Arithmancy. He was amazed at how easily both subjects came to him. He figured that they'd be a lot more helpful than a couple of phony predictions in the future.

He'd already sent a letter to McGonagall about dropping Divination for Runes and Arithmancy. He'd asked Hermione beforehand, and she'd been delighted about his desire to change into her classes, gleefully offering to help him out.

He spent most of his time studying, learning about his new subjects. He also got a couple books on dueling, charms, transfiguration, and defense. He didn't read them yet, but with his memory retention as it was now, he'd probably get to them over the summer. He'd even looked for books on Occlumency, but Flourish and Blotts didn't stock them.

It was about a week later that he headed to Olivanders.

"Hello, Mr. Olivander." He said, still creeped out by the shop.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" The strange shopkeeper asked him, his silvery eyes peering intently into Harry's.

"Um… a couple of things actually. First, I was hoping I could get a dueling holster for my wand?"

"Very well. Would you like a wrist holster, or a waist holster?"

"Waist, I think." It would be weird to draw his wand from somewhere around his wrist.

"Very well. What kind would you like?"

"What kinds of enchantments do you have on them?" He wondered.

"It depends on how much you are willing to spend. The least expensive ones are simple leather, with no protective enchantments, and the most expensive are dragonhide, containing a full Auror suite of protective spells. The most expensive would be a dragonhide wrist holster, which comes with a spell that summons your wand with a flick of your wrist and a command word, which can be thought, rather than said."

Harry considered it a moment. "You know what, I think I'll take the wrist one instead, then. I've got a bit of gold sitting around, and I might as well use some of it." He paid twenty galleons, a rather steep price, for the holster.

"What else did you need, Mr. Potter?" Olivander asked.

"Ah, right. Well, I was hoping you might have a practice wand or something. You know, like one without a core I could use to work on my wand movements."

"Ah, hoping to practice with your muggle relatives?" The wandmaker nodded. "Very well, I can make you a practice wand. Wait here a moment." He stepped into the back for a moment, before returning.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter. Eleven inches, nice and supple. Correct?" Harry nodded, surprised at the fact that the man remembered exactly how his wand was.

"That'll be seven sickles for the wood." Ollivander informed him. Harry opened up his bag to get the appropriate change. He was out of sickles, having only twenty five galleons left. He'd have to head to Gringotts. He handed the man twenty one, receiving twelve sickles in change, before heading to the bank.

Harry walked up to a counter, waiting in line until he got to the goblin.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter. I'm here to get some gold out of my vault. I've got my key right here." He said, pulling the key from a pocket.

"Mr. Potter?" The goblin said, eyes narrowing. "My name is Sharptooth. Please come with me."

Harry hesitated, but decided that he might as well. Sharptooth led him to a room with a rather strange contraption. It was a silver pedestal, with a bowl at the top. An arm extended out with a sheet of parchment on the end. A quill was also on the arm.

"According to the bylaws of House Potter, as long as there is no Head of the Family, the Heir may claim the Headship of the House at the age of fourteen. This is a blood test, both to ensure that you are Harry Potter, and to test to see if you may be eligible to claim others. Just place a bit of blood in the bowl there."

Harry hesitated again. "What would becoming Head of House Potter do for me?"

"As Head of House, you will have full access to your family vaults. You gain a seat on the Wizengamot, though you may not claim it until you are seventeen years of age. You will be exempt from underage magic laws, as well as a number of others. There are a list of benefits I can have sent to you."

"Wait a minute. You said that I could become Head at fourteen. My birthday isn't for almost two months!"

"True. You will have to return then to claim your Headship. This is merely preparatory work."

Harry sighed. "Fine." He moved towards the pedestal, before stopping. He turned to look at Sharptooth. "What do you get out of this? Everyone knows that you goblins hate wizards. Why on earth would you help me?"

"That is an interesting question, Mr. Potter. Let me tell you a story. Less than twenty years ago, a group of Death Eaters kidnapped and tortured a number of goblins to death, trying to steal certain Gringotts' secrets. Of course, in the end, their silence only bought a few hours of security, as Ragnok, the manager here, caved anyway, eager to save his own skin from the Dark Lord. How else would someone have managed to break into one of our secure vaults three years ago? Lord Ragnok would be most displeased with anyone who helped you, as his vaults became quite full during the final years of the war. Some of us, however, do not agree with his decision, especially when their pregnant mate was lost."

Harry hung his head. "I'm sorry."

"So, Mr. Potter, you are right. Very few goblins can be trusted to tell the truth to a human. Were you anyone else, I would most certainly not have brought you here, unless it was to trick you into emptying your new vaults with fees. Lord Ragnok will be most displeased with me, and I doubt we will ever see each other again. However, I have paid my debt. Thank you for what you have done, Lord Potter. Do not worry about the succession. I will take care of the proper fees from your trust vault now. When you return on your birthday, simply inform the goblins that all fees have already been paid."

Harry nodded, before moving over to the basin. He pulled out the silver knife from the bowl and cut a finger, allowing three drops to fall into the bowl. Moments later, the blood seemed to vanish, even as the quill sprang to life, floating in the air and writing upon the parchment.

House Potter, Lord – Blood Inheritance

House Gryffindor, Lord – Inherited Succession Rite

House Slytherin, Lord – Conquest

House Black, Heir – Will of Sirius Black

"What?" Harry gasped at seeing two of Hogwarts' founders upon the page. "How can I be the Lord of Slytherin House?"

"The rite of conquest. Having defeated the previous heir thrice, you may lay claim to their titles. It is an old law. Were the Death Eaters not bound to his magic, you could likely claim them as property as well."

Harry gaped. "W-what about Gryffindor?"

"An inherited succession rite is a task that must be completed by a relative, before you can claim the house. It appears that House Potter was descended from House Gryffindor, possibly through a branch family or marriage. I am unsure what it could have been."

"I drew the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat?" he suggested.

"Possibly. And be careful with that weapon. It is one of the only goblin made artifacts gifted permanently to a human by its creator, and many do not agree with the decision. Others may attempt to trick you into giving it up. I would advise you against it."

Harry sighed. "All right, so I have to come back and claim all three houses."

Sharptooth nodded. "Make sure you force the goblin who takes you to do so to swear a magical oath to follow the proper procedure with no additions. All goblins are required to do so upon request by an old treaty."

"Thank you very much." Harry said to Sharptooth. "I truly appreciate everything what you have done for me."

"Thank me by winning. The Dark Lord is not gone yet, and he will surely come after you. Make sure that you put him down for good this time."

Harry raised the length of Holly and took a deep breath. A single rune had been carved into its length, before being filled with a bit of liquid silver that had dried. The rune had taken him almost a week to research. He had spent the first week simply practicing the motions and looking up spells, the second looking up runes and Arithmantic equations. The third week, he'd found out something interesting and finally got the chance to practice some spells. Apparently, the Ministry couldn't detect magic used in high magic environments, such as around Diagon Alley. Even most wizard homes had enough magic in them to disrupt the tracking spells, something that pissed him off.

Now, he was going to try something. He focused his Alar, his entire belief focused on positive emotions, allowing him to avoid having to call up a happy memory.

"Expecto Patronum." He called out, willing power to pour out of him. A moment later, when he was about to sigh and put the wand away, a blast of silver light erupted from the tip of the fake wand, forming a powerful stag.

Harry was giddy as he reached out to touch the Patronus. He'd managed it. Even using a runed focus, to cast such a powerful spell without an actual wand was incredible. To his amazement, the stag was solid to his touch.

"I don't believe it." He whispered. How was it possible? His patronus was a physical construct! That meant… maybe… He turned to look at the stag. "Can you do something for me?" He was amazed to see its head bob up and down. "There's a book on the ground next to one of your hooves. Can you move it?" The stag responded by reaching out and shoving the book a few inches.

"Incredible!" He murmured as he reached out to the stag, before he was struck by another idea, his Patronus dispelling after he petted it in thanks.

He broke off another division of his mind, keeping the iron belief of positive energy in one part, in the other he focused on something very simple. The idea that… A wolf, he decided, was the most protective creature in existence. The strongest possible guardian. With the power of his Alar, he twisted his belief, before casting the spell again. It came forth even easier this time, taking on the form of a wolf.

"Amazing." He murmured as he examined the wolf. He consciously removed the division, removing the belief in the wolf. To his amazement, it didn't fade away. "That's awesome. It doesn't require conscious thought to make you keep your form."

He decided to try one more thing before stopping. The wolf vanished as he released the spell, before focusing his Alar once again. This time, he believed in flame. He forced himself to believe that fire was his shield, before casting the spell a third time. A spray of silver flames burst forth from the fake wand, causing Harry to let out a yelp as they began to burn the chair in the room.

Harry discarded the practice wand, drawing his real wand with a flick of his wrist. "Aguamenti!" He invoked, water blasting out of the wand and, to his surprise, not affecting the fire at all. Then, he realized what was happening, and canceled both spells. The silver fire vanished, though the burns on the wood chair were left behind.

Harry sighed as he sat down on the bed. He'd have to replace the chair for Tom later. But first, he needed to figure out what was going on with his Patronus.

Harry steeled himself as he made his way into Gringotts. He remembered Sharptooth's warning. Get in, get your stuff, and get out. Don't trust them.

He managed to speak to a goblin and demanded that it swear to an oath he'd written out beforehand. He'd made sure to close whatever loopholes he could think of. Among other things, the goblin couldn't allow him to be hurt, couldn't charge him any extra fees, and couldn't delay him any more than absolutely necessary by law. The goblin was furious, but obeyed. He left for a moment to set everything up. When the goblin returned, Harry was led to a room with three boxes in it. Each of them had a different crest on it. Harry recognized two of the three, and the third looked oddly familiar. These were the Potter, Gryffindor, and Slytherin house rings. The Gryffindor and Slytherin crests were identical to the Hogwarts house crests.

He opened the Potter box first, sliding it onto his ring finger on his right hand. Next, he took the Gryffindor ring. The moment it touched his skin, he heard what sounded like a lion's roar, and almost drew his wand. He looked around, but didn't see anything.

"Who are you? What right have you to House Gryffindor?" A voice spoke directly to his mind.

"I am Harry James Potter." Harry responded, hoping that he would be heard. "I have drawn the Sword of Gryffindor in a time of dire need. I was told that, as a Potter, I had accomplished the requirements to claim this house."

Something burned in his mind, like fire behind his eyes, and Harry barely managed to stifle a cry of pain. He wanted to stop whatever it was, but the unfamiliar attack caught him completely off guard. The alien presence dug through his mind, and stopped suddenly. The events of the Chamber of Secrets replayed themselves before his eyes, from the moment he had touched the Sword.

"Get… Out… of my HEAD!" He cried out the last word, forcing the intruder from his mind.

"You are worthy. I accept you as Head of House Gryffindor, Lord Potter. The Flame is at your disposal."

"Thank god for that." He murmured. "Only one more." He commented as he slid the ring onto the same finger, the two seeming to merge together, though only the Potter ring was visible. He somehow knew he could switch between the two with a thought.

He opened the box, but just before his skin touched the ring, a voice hissed out.

"Who dares try to claim House Slytherin?" The ring seemed to come alive, a voice hissing from it.

"I am Lord Harry James Potter. I claim this house by right of Conquest. I have defeated your cowardly heir thrice in battle. I lay claim to his title as Heir of Slytherin." Harry responded in Parseltongue. He figured that adding Lord to his name might help, especially since it was true, after all.

"You Speak? Interesting… Yes, your magic confirms the truth. You are the new Heir." To Harry's horror, the emerald vanished from the ring, only for the silver band to slither up his finger like a snake, before reforming and binding with his other two rings.

Thankfully, the same oath he'd convinced the goblin to swear forced it to take him down to his vaults. He emptied his trust vault into his bag, before taking half of the funds from the Potter vaults, the maximum that could be withdrawn within a single year. To his surprise, there were no actual coins inside of the Gryffindor or Slytherin vaults. He made sure to take all the books, as well as all of the heirlooms he could fit into the bag.

Having found a few enchanted swords inside of his new vaults, he began to look around Diagon for some way to learn how to use them. He figured that it would be interesting to learn, not to mention that it might be useful. Maybe if he'd known how to use a sword, he wouldn't have been bitten in second year.

Amazingly enough, he found that there was a way to transfer specially prepared memories from one wizard to another, using a device called a Transfer Pensieve. The pensieve would transfer both knowledge and muscle memory into a wizard, at the cost of an incredible amount of pain. Unfortunately, transferring magical knowledge was effectively useless. There was a reason that that wizards learned the way they did. Without actually training one's magic, it became next to impossible to actually cast a spell, meaning that you couldn't learn advanced magic from them. In addition, it was heinously expensive. Unless he wanted to spend half the money he had withdrawn that day, he wouldn't be able afford more than the equivalent of a spellbook or two. Just buying the ability to use a sword in either hand, a relatively archaic and unused skill, cost him ten thousand galleons, the entirety of his Trust vault. He looked around for an ordinary pensieve, figuring that it might be useful, but wasn't able to find one for less than a hundred thousand galleons.

Well, I hope everyone liked it. I've got a bit of the next chapter written, like a fifth of what I have here. I'm going to be skipping as much of the canon as I can. Everything is going to be changing when the names come out of the goblet of fire. But first, we have to deal with certain incidents at the Quidditch World Cup, and the results of those events.

Next time: Trials by Fire. Harry tests out his power against the attacking Death Eaters, gets his first taste of an Unforgivable, and pays a rather unpleasant visit to the Ministry.

Tell me what you think! The more reviews I get, the more likely I am to update this story sooner.