Harry groaned as he forced his eyes open and cast his gaze around the strange bedroom. The last thing he remembered was his Aunt Marge bad-mouthing his parents and him losing control of his emotions, causing him to unintentionally release his magic and cause her to swell up like a balloon. He groaned as he thought about how it had only taken two weeks back at the Dursleys' before there was an incident, and he couldn't help but feel slightly bitter towards Dumbledore for not taking him seriously when he had begged to be allowed to stay somewhere – anywhere – else. After that, things started to become more of a blur as he lost himself in the pain of Uncle Vernon's beatings before finally crawling out the door when his uncle had exhausted himself and gone to bed.

He remembered fighting with the pain tearing through his body as he limped his way down Privet Drive towards the small park that had become a sort of sanctuary for him over the years. Thinking hard, Harry tried to remember what happened next, but all he could remember was a pair of glowing yellow eyes in the darkness before something massive knocked him to the ground, smacking his head against the pavement and dislodging his glasses as the full moon provided only just enough light to see whatever it was that attacked him lean down over his neck, hot, damp breath against his jugular. After that, all Harry could remember was pain as the creature sank its fangs into his throat. His veins seemed to fill with fire and he had struggled to scream, but he Vernon had paid extra attention ensuring he could utter no more than the occasional whimper. His head had swam and as darkness encroached in the corners of Harry's vision, threatening to swallow him whole, he vaguely remembered hearing the screech of a bird followed by a clap of thunder.

Groaning as he sat up, Harry looked around the unfamiliar room, taking in the rich hardwood flooring, and thick stone walls that created a sense of safety, while the warm glow of a nearby fire added a certain feel to them that reminded Harry of what he felt whenever he thought about returning to Hogwarts, only… stronger. More right.

A sudden pop made Harry yelp as a familiar house elf appeared standing before him.

"The Great Harry Potter is finally awake!" Dobby cried happily. "Dobby was so frightened! Tipsy tells Dobby that she would make sure Harry Potter Sir survived, she reminded Dobby that the Ancient One would protect Master Harry Potter, but that didn't stop Dobby from worrying!"

"Dobby?" Harry asked groggily. "What happened? Where are we?"

"Dobby came when he sensed Master Harry Potter was in danger! Dobby apparated to the Master, only to find a man-wolf had attacked Master. When Dobby arrived, the Ancient One had already destroyed the man-wolf, and demanded Dobby help him stabilize Master before taking Master back to his home."

"Dobby, I don't know where you thought I lived, but this isn't it," Harry said slowly. To call Dobby unpredictable would be a major understatement, and Harry didn't want to have to stop him from hurting himself like he would when he was enslaved to the Malfoys. "Don't you remember? You came to me last year. That's where I live when I'm not at Hogwarts." Harry refused to make any allusion to the prison he had been sentenced to being his home.

Dobby violently shook his head before he replied excitedly. "No, Dobby chose to bond with The Great Harry Potter Sir as his master, as such, Dobby became privy to the location of Master Harry Potter's home, and was given permission to pass through the wards surrounding Potter Manor."

"Potter Manor?" Harry asked incredulously.

"This is the ancestral home to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter," another squeaky voice replied, though, this one sounded older and almost motherly in its tone, drawing Harry's attention to the door where a second house elf had appeared, carrying a tray laden with various foods and drinks.

This elf looked incredibly different from Dobby as she was dressed in an elegant servant's uniform. On top of that, her appearance was vastly different from the withered little creature standing on Harry's bed. She was a fair bit taller than Dobby, standing at almost four feet, and she had features that looked more reminiscent to the elves that parents told their children worked in a factory in the North Pole to produce toys to be delivered every Christmas. Her fair skin was contrasted by her dark hair, though Harry could see the occasional streak of grey in the tightly wound bun that rested atop her head. Her long ears were not nearly as big as Dobby's, and the soft wrinkles and laugh-lines on her face portrayed a life led far better than that either of the bed's occupants. Her warm brown eyes twinkled as she placed the tray across Harry's lap before bowing at the waist with her right fist raised up to rest against her chest. "I cannot properly express how happy I am to see you again, Young Master. I, like young Dobby here, was quite distraught when the Ancient One delivered you to us in such a terrible condition."

"I'm sorry," Harry said haltingly, "have we met before?"

The older elf nodded her head and smiled sadly. "Of course you would hardly remember, as you barely spent half a year here before Master James and Mistress Lily were forced to take you into hiding. My name is Tipsy, servant to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

"So, this is… where I was supposed to live with my parents?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Tipsy nodded her eyes misting slightly as she was lost in the past. "It nearly killed me when I learned of their deaths. I tried to find you, but was countered at every turn - both magically and legally. It was only the knowledge that we would some day meet, and I could continue to serve you and your family that kept me from withering away these long years." She paused as her emotions seemed to overwhelm her. "Tipsy can't even begin to tell the young Master how happy she was when young Dobby brought him here," she hiccoughed, her formal venaccular degrading somewhat in the wake of her emotions.

"So, I can… live here?" Harry asked, unable to disguise the raw hope in his voice.

"But of course, Master," Tipsy replied, regaining her composure and smiling brightly. "You are the Heir to the House of Potter. Your admittance into these grounds is proof enough of that. I highly doubt even the Ancient One could have been able to successfully penetrate the sheer amount of wards surrounding the estate without your presence to allow him."

"You both keep mentioning this Ancient One, who are you talking about?" Harry asked.

As if to answer his question, there was a flash of lightning near the window to Harry's right. When the blinding light faded and Harry could see again, he was shocked by the majestic creature that had appeared before him and flew over to perch itself on the foot of his bed.

Its head was similar to that of an eagle, with four shining wings emerging from its powerful torso and the base of seven long tails of beautiful plumage. Its feathers shimmered with cloud-like patterns, occasionally changing colours as it shifted and folded its wings, but usually settling on an inky black, accentuated with electrifying blue.

Well met, young man, a deep voice rang through his head, and Harry's eyes widened, my name is Zephyr.

Harry was reminded of his first meeting with Fawkes, the phoenix, and the sensation of pure magic that accompanied the bird. He smiled at the strange sense of familiarity that the voice brought with it, despite never having heard it before in his life, and soon found himself reaching out towards the bird that was nearly as tall as Tipsy was. Zephyr inclined his head and leaned down to stroke his head against the palm of Harry's hand, and Harry gasped as a surge of information flowed through his mind before the newly identified thunderbird stretched his wings and flew up to Harry's shoulder, shrinking as he flew until he was roughly the size of Fawkes, while the lower pair of wings seemed to vanish to accommodate his new size.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Zephyr," Harry replied, smiling widely. "I guess you're this Ancient One they keep referring to?"

Indeed, Zephyr said, his dark eyes twinkling. Imagine my surprise when after centuries of life, I feel the pull of one such as yourself an ocean away on another continent. Luck was certainly on our side when I arrived in the nick of time to save you from that werewolf.

Harry's eyes widened as he remembered how he had wound up in this situation in the first place. "Wait… That-that thing that attacked me was a werewolf? Does-does that mean that I'm…?"

The unspoken question filled the air with a tense weight until Tipsy took it upon herself to reassure her fearful master. "That remains to be seen, Master," she said. "When I was healing you, I detected a litany of abnormalities that I would urge you to have checked out."

"How do I do that?" Harry asked.

"If you are feeling up to it, I can bring us to Gringotts this afternoon," Tipsy offered.

"Why Gringotts? Isn't that the bank?"

"Gringotts serves as more than just a bank," Tipsy informed him. "The goblin healers there are among the best in the world. On top of that, as you have finally returned to your ancestral home, I feel it would be prudent for you to formally accept your position within the House of Potter."

"What would that position entail?" Harry asked.

"It would mean accepting the responsibilities and duties that come with being the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House," Tipsy replied. "If you would allow it, perhaps it would be best if I accompany you, Master."

"Thank you, Tipsy," Harry replied. "I know next to nothing about the Wizarding World, and if has anything to do with my family, then I would love nothing more than to learn about it."

"Thank you, Sir, it means a lot that you would trust me like this," Tipsy said sincerely. "Dobby took the liberty to retrieve all of your personal effects from the muggle house, and after seeing the condition of your clothes, I took it upon myself to resize several of your father's and grandfather's robes. We can leave as soon as you have eaten and gotten ready."


By the time they left, it was nearing eleven in the morning. Harry learned that he had been unconscious for about a week before he had woken up, and wasn't sure whether to be surprised or relieved that there had still yet to be any sort of report of him having gone missing. In order to avoid drawing attention, Tipsy had conjured a glamour over Harry to disguise him while in Diagon Alley. This was somewhat counteracted by the expensive robes he was wearing and the fact that Zephyr insisted on accompanying Harry from his perch on his shoulder. but after being scolded by both of them for the timid, hunched over posture he bore in an attempt to shrink away from the attention, he had straightened his shoulders, held his head tall, and threw every ounce of his skills in acting and lying into portraying the regal Heir he supposedly was.

In fact, by the time he and Tipsy reached the great doors to Gringotts, Harry found himself having to put less and less effort into keeping up the act. Unlike the fame that came from his miraculous defeat of Voldemort as a child, Harry couldn't help but actually be proud of being a part of the House of Potter. It was a link to his parents that he would hold dearly, and there was no way he would shame them by acting like he was not happy with the name they had given him.

Following Tipsy through the doors, Harry along with everyone else in the lobby of the bank whirled around in surprise when two loud bangs caused him to whirl around, where he was faced with the two trolls who normally guarded the doors kneeling with their heads down in his direction before standing and returning to their original posts. Frowning in confusion, Harry decided to set it aside for now and turned to resume heading towards his destination when the most peculiar smell caught his attention.

It smelled like vanilla, and parchment, and something else that Harry couldn't identify as it seemed… hidden. Like it was being masked by the collective scents of those around him. He cast his eyes around the multitude of people in the lobby, trying to find the source of the delicious odor, his eyes resting on a small family of four as he felt something within him tug, as if telling him to go over to them.

One of the girls, the elder of the two, turned her head and met his gaze. She was around his age, with long, blonde hair, and piercing, ice-blue eyes. She was rather thin compared to other girls, and looked to be slightly shorter than him, her expensive-looking cloak covering the rest of her body. He frowned when she scowled at him before turning away, and decided to let the matter drop as he followed Tipsy up to a desk where a familiar goblin was pouring over some paperwork.

"Hello Griphook," Harry said, causing the goblin to look up in shock and suspicion. "It's me, Harry Potter, you helped me on my first year?"

"I'm more than aware of who you are, Mister Potter," Griphook replied. "Even elf magic is not capable of hiding you within Gringotts. What surprises me is that you addressed me by my name, let alone remembered it."

"Why wouldn't I remember your name?" Harry asked. "You helped me my first year. I always remember people who help me."

The seemingly innocent tone with which he said it convinced Griphook of his sincerity. "A noble thing to do, Mister Potter. I was simply surprised because most wizards do not treat us with any more respect than they would an animal. It's rare to be addressed as an equal by one such as yourself."

Several emotions passed over Harry's face, none of them positive before he settled on thoughtful and took his time to reply. "That's stupid," he said bluntly. "You manage all of our money, that means you're all extremely smart, and Tipsy told me that goblins have some of the best healers in the world, which means you're all powerful and talented. On top of that, Tipsy told me on the way here that you all have your own nation and cultures, which means you know how to create your own society and government."

"Those are quite the astute deductions, Mister Potter," Griphook said, taking note of the many people, both goblin and wizard alike who were discretely trying to listen in on their conversation.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me either way."

Griphook raised an eyebrow, and could even see a handful of his superiors leaning closer to hear what he had to say. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You should be treated with respect because everyone deserves to be treated decently. Everything I just listed off is just why you should be the ones who don't bother to learn our names." The tension in the room ratcheted up, though Harry seemed completely oblivious to the nearly treasonous words he was spouting. Griphook watched, stunned, as Harry shrugged once more before continuing, as if they had been exchanging little more than pleasantries. "Anyway, Tipsy offered to help me handle some family business, and as you were the only familiar face here, I decided to see whether I could get your help as well."

Harry waited for Griphook to get down from behind his massive desk and lead them down towards one of the nearby private offices scratching Zephyr beneath the chin as he did so.

"What can I help you with, Mister Potter?" Griphook asked as he took a seat at a desk on the other side of the room while Harry rushed to pull a chair out for his matronly house elf, prompting another raised eyebrow, before taking a seat himself.

"Well," Harry began, hesitating until Zephyr leaned down and nuzzled him supportively. "About a week ago, I was attacked by a werewolf."

"Is that so? I must say, you have recovered remarkably quickly if that is the case."

"Yes, well, that's probably all thanks to Tipsy, Dobby, and Zephyr here. They rescued me before it could kill me." Harry looked a little lost for a moment, so Tipsy took it upon herself to help out.

"When I was healing the young Master's wounds, I found that there was something strange going on with his blood and his magical core," Tipsy informed him. "I did not see the typical signs of lycanthropy, but rather something completely different. I suggested that Master Harry seek out a goblin healer to diagnose him and see if there is anything that requires immediate attention. Additionally, Master Harry thought it prudent to inform himself concerning his family, and Gringotts would be the obvious place to start on that."

Griphook nodded and shuffled through several papers that he had conjured while they spoke and frowned. "Mister Potter, it says here that you have been receiving regular updates and statements in regards to your various holdings."

"Please, Griphook, call me Harry, and that must be a mistake. I didn't even know what Gringotts was, let alone that I had a vault before you showed it to me two years ago."

"Harry, that was simply your trust vault," Griphook replied. "Money is placed in there every month to cover your various expenses. That is not the main Potter Vault. As for what you have told me, that is very concerning, as we have been receiving directions from your magical guardian for years regarding the handling of your finances."

"My magical guardian?" Harry asked. "Who's that?"

"Unlike your legal guardians, your magical guardian is the one that magic and spells themselves recognise as your advocate and the one responsible for you. Ever since the events nearly twelve years ago, Albus Dumbledore has held that position. He should have been the one that you learned all about your family from."

"Well I didn't!" Harry exclaimed. "And you're telling me he's been touching my parents' money as well?"

"I'm afraid that he was within his rights as your guardian to handle your finances," Griphook said sadly. He could see that Harry cared very little for the actual money lost, but more that someone he had previously trusted had robbed him of something his parents had left him, regardless of worth. "There may be a solution, though."

"What's that?" Harry asked as he struggled to compose himself.

"Seeing as we will need to provide one for the healers anyway, you could consider testing to see if your family magic will accept you as its Lord, thus emancipating you and granting you the full title and responsibilities of Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, as well as any other Houses whose blood you carry that are in need of a head."

"Let's do it," Harry replied instantly and watched as Griphook withdrew a fresh parchment and a long silver dagger. He instructed Harry to slice open his palm and drop his blood on the parchment. Harry didn't even flinch as the goblin steel broke his skin, and watched impassively as the blood dripped steadily on the page before his hand healed itself, good as new.

Griphook's eyebrows rose to his hairline as he read over the parchment before handing it over to Harry, who couldn't blame him when he read the results for himself.

Harry James Potter

Son of James Charlus Potter and Lily Potter (nee Evans)

Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter

Heir apparent to the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Black (Contestable), Slytherin (By Combat), Gryffindor, Peverrel, and Flamel

Notable latent abilities: Animagus (Nemean Lion), Parseltongue, Beastmaster, Speaker

Note: Blood contains significant amounts of basilisk venom, phoenix tears, and Lycanthropy virus. Magical Core shows signs of continued tampering and restriction, while presence of recently expunged soul fragment visible.

"So what does this all mean?" Harry said as he handed the parchment back.

It means that I made an excellent choice in humans, Zephyr replied.

A/N: So I know this is going to enrage quite a few of you, as you were probably hoping for a proper update, but as I read through this in an effort to figure out what I wanted to do next, I found myself growing more and more unhappy with how this turned out. For one thing, I felt like Harry was way too OP without having gone into depth about him earning those skills. The plan was, and still is, for him to be a prodigy on the same levels as Dumbledore and Riddle when it comes to Magic, but I didn't feel like that was properly fleshed out, and he just sort of automatically became better than everyone else. The other big issue was Daphne. It felt like she was mostly there to be Harry's love interest, when the plan was for her to be the more cool-headed, politically savvy one. Instead, Harry ended up being the smoothest of operators and she sort of fell by the wayside.

Once again, I apologize for getting your hopes up, but hopefully this will improve NMG to the point where I can be really proud of it and continue working on furthering the story.