Yes, I have read Inspected by Number 13. I was originally stuck on how to proceed until I read it. And yes, I did make an unintentional reference to Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in there. Without further ado, I present the full fic of Best Served Cold! (Before anyone asks, Yes I did use a pic of Kyoya Ootori as the cover art. He just seemed to suit this version of Harry best.)
Inside a far too small cupboard for a growing child, the lone occupant of the "room" blinked rapidly, before an evil grin appeared on his face.
Those damn pure bloods wouldn't know what hit them, and this time he was going to make them think twice about turning him into their whipping boy. The war was a secondary matter...if he dealt with the main idiots first, then the casualties would be kept to a minimum.
Nothing made pure bloods think twice about being idiots like being unable to pay for their injuries. It might take a few tries, but they'd get the hint pretty fast.
But first, he needed to take stock of how far back he was, give Vernon and his aunt a damn good reason to leave him the hell alone, and then start making plans to really spice things up.
Which was why, after taking a brief look at the date (he had two years to 'train' his uncle and cousin to back off). And the first thing he did after determining how much time he had to really change things, was to insure he had his little mini-pocket realm accessible.
After one too many fan girls and idiot pure bloods breaking into his house (usually to either violate him or try and kill him) he researched pocket dimensions. It was surprisingly simple, and turned out to be a lesser known skill among the pure bloods for important documents. Mostly the higher ranked Aurors on high profile cases, or Unspeakables.
A little known perk of the pocket realms was that while it couldn't store food or anything living, as long as you knew how to access it, anything stored was available anywhere...or anywhen.
It made it a lot easier for people who used time turners to deliver necessary court documents on time for important cases. Which had been a problem in the past.
Once he confirmed he had the right documents, his grin became vicious.
Those idiots wouldn't know what hit them.
The biggest sign something had changed in the brat was the fact he came home early. Or at least Petunia assumed he did.
Her nephew hated the house, a sentiment she made sure to encourage. So the fact that he was there at all raised alarm bells.
This was actually part of Vernon's lunch hour, and he had come home early because he didn't want to waste money buying from a new restaurant while his preferred one was under renovations.
Vernon disliked new things.
"BOY! What are you doing here?"
Instead of flinching, as he usually did at the enraged tone, the freak looked them both in the eye and they were the one to flinch back.
"Let's get one thing straight, aunt and uncle," said the freak with a far too calm voice. He spat out the titles as if they were curse words. "You don't want me here, and I would gladly watch this place burn to the ground and would only come back to piss on the asses. But since we're stuck with each other, I'm damn well not going to take your shit any longer than I have to."
Vernon's face blistered with rage, but before he could get a word in, Harry merely pointed at the lightbulb above him and it exploded. Their worst fears had come true...the freak knew of his powers.
Both were silent with horror.
"Here's the thing about the backwards morons who call themselves superior. They don't track magic without a wand, and all I have to do is occupy that senile old woman Figg to keep that idiot Dumbledore out of my way. However I'm not above working out a little deal with you," said Harry flatly.
"What sort of deal?"
"You don't have to talk to me or even acknowledge my existence during the summer months I'm stuck here, once that outdated castle finally deigns to remember me. If we can pretend that we're roommates who are forced to live with each other long until I'm at least fifteen. By that time I can sue for emancipation in both worlds. Hell, I could care less if you feed me just the 'rabbit food' that Dudley and Vernon can't stand," said Harry.
Petunia blinked. It sounded far more reasonable than expecting them to suddenly acknowledge he was one of them.
"You'll still have to do chores," she warned him.
"Fair enough, but don't shunt all of it on me. If this works out I might be able to send some of my inheritance your way as payment for putting up with me for all these years."
"What sort of inheritance?" demanded Vernon, greed coming into his eyes.
"We use gold, silver and copper as our currency. And before you get any ideas of trying to steal it, thanks to the stupidity of the 'pure' magicals there is simply no way to transfer money to the normal world. They refuse to allow it. However, the conversion rate between normal pounds or Euros is enough that I could literally take your bank account and convert into gold. The idiots didn't even bother to put a limit to how much you could convert to gold bullion."
Petunia latched on to that bit of news.
"You're saying you could convert our entire bank account into normal gold?" said Petunia.
"I know some lesser branches that keep a stash of it. I could waltz in with pounds and come out with several tons of gold that you could keep in a Swiss bank...all for looking the other way," said Harry flatly.
"Could you give us a moment?" said Petunia.
"Take your time. I went back two hours just to make sure we came to a proper understanding. As far as the neighbors are concerned, I'm still in school at the moment," agreed Harry. He loved his time turner.
Fifteen minutes later his 'relatives' came to an understanding.
"We'll pretend you don't exist outside the times you convert our accounts to gold. However I won't stand the smells of any potions, and keep the magic usage out of sight," said Petunia.
"Fair enough. Also, you might want to consider getting Dudley interested in boxing or mixed martial arts soon. It'll give him an edge when he goes to Smeltings," said Harry to Vernon.
Dudley had surprisingly become a boxing champion of the heavyweight division for England in the future.
Vernon didn't seem to mind the suggestion...far from it.
Some time later...
The effects of Harry's talk with his 'relatives' took less than a month for it to take effect.
First and foremost, he got several vaccinations he had missed out on the first time, as well as more food. Petunia even gave him the second bedroom, with the agreement to look the other way if he kept anything after fixing it.
Another change was that Vernon (reluctantly) agreed to let Harry have a computer in his room with working internet.
This was mostly because Harry did vaguely recall some of the bigger companies in the normal world, and with their permission, invested heavily in them while they were still growing before the age of internet really took off.
The first dividends of that would come to fruition within two months, as Google really shot up like a rocket. And thanks to his knowledge of certain scandals along with the books on the business market, and the outcomes of various sports that wouldn't be overly affected by his return in his pocket realm, he was almost certain to make a killing so long as he did it right.
Just because the magicals were idiots didn't mean that they hadn't compiled a list of things to watch for. Thank magic for internet transactions. It was harder to trace.
Harry considered this a vast improvement, considering last time it was nothing but neglect and borderline abuse.
Appealing to their greed and common sense worked wonders.
They could live with pretending he didn't exist. He could live with helping them get an even bigger bank account than they could have thought possible because of a loophole in the protection Dumbledore stuck him with.
And once he got things going, Vernon would never have to work again because Harry knew how to set a self-sustaining system that brought money in from over the internet.
And that appealed to the tub of lard. They could go on vacations and do almost whatever they damn well pleased...and all the had to do was make a small agreement with a rather cutthroat nephew. Even the fat pig could understand not killing to golden goose when it could still lay eggs.
Harry, Age Eleven...
A much more well rounded pre-teen picked up the envelope with a smirk. Thanks to the fact he exploited a loophole the goblins were unable to fix in their conversion rates, his 'relatives' were much more manageable. And he had insured Vernon wouldn't bother him again by simply appealing to the man's greed and common sense.
So long as he produced the money in their new Swiss accounts, Vernon would pretend not to notice magic use or the fact that his nephew was getting the majority of his gold from strange sources.
And no, the irony that he was fattening his own bank accounts with the gold of people who thought themselves too good to do things normally was not lost on any of them.
Harry had been methodical. He had gone in with a different disguise and name each time, all with Petunia's help, and then systematically drained the goblin's gold supply dry with converting gold to pounds back to gold and then into the Swiss banks. Most of the minor banks had been taken out.
Harry wasn't stupid enough to hit Gringotts directly. At least not until he could really hit it hard.
He was still warming his aunt up to letting him get a Capuchin monkey that he would name Jack. She barely tolerated Ripper.
He would have that monkey though. Just for the pure entertainment of being able to recreate the movie that sparked the idea of draining the goblins (and by extension the pure bloods) dry of their gold.
His motto was "Take what you can, give nothing back."
Harry held up the letter, and Petunia smirked.
Knowing her nephew was about to drop a massive bomb on the very people who cost her Lily had made her infinitely more tolerable. As was the fact that they had essentially kicked out any watchers in the neighborhood.
Figg had been evicted when an anonymous complaint to the Inland Revenue Service had them investigating exactly HOW she had kept her house, not to mention the absurd number of cats.
All the neighbors testified against her. How she didn't have a job (not even one over the internet) to the fact she did nothing about her cats becoming a nuisance to the neighborhood.
Ms. Figg had a rough time explaining how she paid for her taxes when she never sold any of her cats (she was not happy with animal control coming in and basically capturing her beloved pets), or the fact she had almost no files on record of her ever paying her taxes in the first place.
And the smell when the animal control went in... the house was lucky not to be condemned from the ammonia alone.
Harry waited until he got the news she wasn't coming back to that house anytime soon (most, if not all of her kneazles were confiscated on the grounds of animal cruelty) before he had Vernon swoop into the realtors office who had landed the mess she left behind and pay for it himself.
Harry planned to demolish it and rebuild a new, more modern house in it's place. It would become a quiet cash cow that he owned the title to, and would rent out to people he knew had zero connections to magic.
Vernon didn't care, as long as that batty old woman never came back. And with Harry holding the title, it was unlikely she would be able to live in Little Whinging ever again. Or any of Dumbledore's pawns.
Petunia was also more than happy to make Dumbledore's life more difficult than necessary, so if any new neighbors came in she would find a way to invite herself in and snoop for even a hint of magic.
It didn't hurt that Harry told her exactly what to look for.
Very few muggleborns would do Dumbledore any favors, and those that did would have had to take their A-levels after the fact. Squibs were also easy to spot...they held a natural resentment to those with magic.
And don't get him started on how the magically raised pure bloods and half bloods would stand out.
Vernon was kind enough to drop him just a few blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron. So long as Harry brought him a sack full of gold, he could look the other way on a lot of things he normally wouldn't have tolerated.
Harry walked into Diagon, and almost felt nostalgia.
Then he remembered how badly these bastards tried to screw him over the first time, and any chance he might have gone easy on them vanished.
He walked into Gringotts, asked for the inheritance test, and waited until it was confirmed he had several active vaults before he made the first strike.
Step one, he brought out a briefcase full of parchment that was full of legal terms that would go over the heads of most pure bloods...and the binding signatures written with a blood quill. That meant that the magical signature would be on the parchment as well.
"Where do I go to have these put into effect?" he asked with a smirk.
The goblin took one look at them, before saying "Three doors down and to the right. Next!"
"What do you want?"
"I'm calling these in, with the condition that the gold go into the Peverell vault and not the Potter one. No need to hear the idiots whine to me about losing their gold," said Harry flatly.
The goblin's eyes went wide as he saw the multiple contracts.
"Bring them over here. I have to check the validity of the contracts."
He took out a strange artifact and waved it over each one. Every single contract (there were twenty sheets, each for a different pure blood family that had pissed Harry off at some point or were on the wrong side of the war) lit up briefly, before the glow dimmed.
"Confirmed. You said you want the gold to go into the Peverell account, correct?"
Harry moved aside all but one.
"These (he motioned to the nineteen he had under his hand) go into the Peverell account. This one goes to the Weasley account. Call it an anonymous donation with the agreement that the donor stays unknown."
"Very well. Follow my associate so that we can get these debts settled," said the goblin.
Harry nodded. He did not lower his guard, because this was actually a risky gamble. Wizards weren't the only ones that knew of time travelers. And there were easy ways to pick up on time travelers.
Too bad Harry had something most of them didn't.
Common bloody sense.
With the use of a wandless memory charm, and writing a diary that had the counter charm on the first page, Harry was relatively sure he could skate by whatever the goblins used to detect people like him.
Sure enough, the goblins were quick to test him for time travel, and aside from having to show off his "mother's" time turner, they came up empty. And he had walked into Gringotts with his briefcase, so they couldn't bust his knowledge of how to make or use pocket dimensions.
Without any proof of time travel, they had to honor the contract Harry had brought with him.
Quite a few Death Eater and old families were going to be in for a nasty surprise the next time they went to bribe their way out of prison.