This chapter is a bit shorter than usual and there's a rather … terse author's note at the end. I'll warn you before you get there so you don't have to read it if you don't want to. This has been sitting in my computer since my last update and I have been working on it off and on. Evidently, my muse got offended because of a review and took a bit of an unscheduled vacation. Speaking of, hopefully during my own vacation, I'll be able to write the next chapter. Sorry for the infrequent updates and thanks for hanging in there.

As always, I do not own Harry Potter or the 'Potterverse'… however much I wish I did.

Portals to the Past

Chapter 3

The weeks and months flew by and soon Harry's preparations were complete. The only thing left for him to do before he left his 'home' reality were the rituals themselves. He had collected his ingredients and brewed the potion used to outline the portal and inscribed the circle of runes onto the slate floor in the ritual chambers deep beneath the foundations of Potter Manor. He had cleansed himself in the traditional manner and robed himself in flowing white silk that would not interfere with the energy of the portal. And, though they could not be seen from the underground chamber, the stars shone brightly in a moonless night sky.

Having decided to do two separate rituals instead of combining them and running the risk of messing it all up, Harry sent his trunk back first. Because it was only dealing with shifting inanimate objects back in time and not space, that portal was the easiest one in the book. Harry would just have to make a trip to Potter Manor's ritual chambers to retrieve his trunk.

Finally, Harry stood in the middle of the circle of runes that would become his portal and, after checking his calculations once more and burning the parchment, he began weaving his magic into place. The potion-drawn runes began to glow with an unearthly light and it felt as if a build up of static electricity was hanging in the air. Ambient magic swirled around Harry as he chanted and poured his magic into his work.

Suddenly, a bright, white-hot light shone from the circle surrounding him. When the light died away, no trace was left that there had been an intense magical working. The potion had been burned off of the slate floor and not even a scrap of fabric was left of the man-who-conquered.


He was floating. No, not floating. Floating would suggest he had a form that could be floated. He was wafting. Like smoke. Harry Potter was smoke drifting on the breeze.

'Well, damn.' He thought to himself. 'Was this supposed to happen?'

No sooner had he thought the words than he felt a pull, not unlike a Portkey, drawing him towards something. Faster and faster he went, rocketing right through houses, people and mountains like they weren't even there. Once or twice he thought the landscape looked familiar, but he was whisked by too quickly to tell.

Finally, after what felt like ages but was, in reality, only a few moments, the pulling stopped. He drifted a few more feet and came to a stop in a dark place.

'I wonder if I can use magic in this form.' He held his hand out low in front of him and cast a wandless Lumos.

The familiar sight of the cupboard under the stairs leapt into sharp focus as light flooded the small enclosed space. Harry's eyes were drawn to the small, still form lying on a thin pallet. He recognized the messy black hair and knew that if the eyes were to open right then, he would find them to be a deep emerald green.

Harry felt drawn to his younger self. He had the strongest urge to reach out and touch the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Slowly he reached out with his index finger to gently stroke the proof of his equality with the evil wizard, Tom Riddle.

As soon as his ghostly finger touched his younger self, Harry was drawn into the young body before him. When his stomach had stopped churning and his heart rate had evened out, Harry opened his eyes and saw darkness once more.

Quickly, he cast another wandless Lumos and nearly blinded himself with the sun-bright light that appeared in the small cupboard. Harry grinned with delight. He had done it. Not only had he returned his mind to his younger body, he had obviously retained his power and added it to his almost-eleven-year-old self's powers!

Quietly, Harry unlocked the cupboard door and snuck into his aunt's spotless kitchen in search of something that could tell him the date. He knew that his uncle had read the news paper every morning, so he went to the trash can in hopes of finding the one from that morning.

Luck was with him, unfortunate that it wasn't good luck. The trash had evidently been emptied that night, so there was no paper for him to get the date from. Harry sighed, wondering if the news boy had been by yet. He almost hit himself in the head and managed to stifle the groan that wanted to escape from him.

'Honestly, sometimes I'm worse than Hermione!' he thought. Waving his hand, he whispered, "Balanus et Tempus."

Glowing words formed over his outstretched palm. July 24, 1991 – 12:15am.

'Excellent. One week before my eleventh birthday and the day I got my first Hogwarts letter.'

With nothing to do but wait for the mail to arrive later in the morning, Harry returned to the cupboard under the stairs. He stood at the doorway and looked into the cramped space. He shook his head sadly. Even with all his years of life, he still could not understand why his relatives hated him so much.

With a casual wave of his hand, he expanded the tiny space allotted to him. Now it was the size of a very small bedroom, but at least he could stand up straight. He waved his hand again and the cot grew to the size of a twin bed and softened considerably. He completed it with sheets and a comfortable pillow.

Finally, he fell into bed and, after doing his Occlumency exercises and compiling a to-do list in his mind, slept the sleep of the mentally and physically exhausted.


The next morning was heralded by Petunia Dursley's shrill voice yelling at him to wake up and fix breakfast. Harry groaned in annoyance and rolled off of his transfigured bed. A wave of his hand had his cupboard back to its original uncomfortable state.

The morning went as he remembered with one major exception. This time, when he went to get the mail, he stuffed his letter in his pocket and didn't open it at the table. He would wait until he was sure he would remain undisturbed before reading the familiar words.

His aunt kept him busy in the yard all day, weeding the garden, cutting the grass, planting new flowers and generally working him like her own personal house elf. By the time he had cooked dinner, receiving a piece of stale bread and a glass of water for his meal, and the Dursleys had gone to bed, Harry was beyond ready to read his letter, even though he knew exactly what it would say.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary supplies and equipment.

Term begins 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July.


Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Harry's heart swelled. He would be returning to the place he had considered home for over 6 years. He would once again see the splendor of a Hogwarts that had yet to fall. Now all he had to do was make sure that it would not fall this time.

Harry packed a few things that he would need in Diagon Alley into an old, worn out backpack of Dudley's. As he had the night before, he unlocked the cupboard door and, quietly snuck into the kitchen. There he wrote his Aunt a note.

Aunt Petunia,

I wish to thank you for your sub-par care over the years. I understand that you didn't have a choice in taking me in, but you did have a choice as to how well you treated me. I have recently found out that I am worth quite a bit of money. The Potter's were quite wealthy, you know. Because of your treatment of me over the years, however, I am delighted to say that you and your family will not see a single pound.

Please note that as soon as I physically say that I no longer think of your house as home, the blood wards that were set to protect me from Voldemort and his followers (and as a by-product, your family as well) will fall and you will have no protection. These people are ruthless and would delight in killing you slowly and painfully. I suggest you move as far away as possible.

I will allow you one week. At the end of that week, I will declare myself well and truly freed of you and your despicable family. I wish you luck and hope that our paths never have reason to cross again.

Harry James Potter

Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Potter

Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Black

He knew it was foolhardy to give up the blood protections, but he knew that the protection in his blood would not suffer from him not living with his Mother's family. At first, the plan was to stay with the Dursleys until he reached his majority, but now, after one day in their 'tender loving care', he was more than ready to leave.

Changing things this soon might throw any chance he had of staying one step ahead of the game right out the window, but that was a chance he was willing to take. He only hoped that it didn't change things too much or too fast.

He left the note and his Hogwarts letter on the kitchen table for his Aunt to find in the morning, and silently made his escape. He slipped out the back door and, jumping over hedges and fences, vanished into the hot summer night.


Harry knew that he could not ride the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley because he didn't have any money. He didn't have access to a Floo, so that was out as well, unless he wanted to break into Mrs. Figg's house (which he didn't).

'I guess there's no hope for it. I'll have to Apparate wandless.' Harry's lip curled in a moue of distaste. He really hated to Apparate without a wand. Not only was it draining, but it required much more concentration and magical power than if he had the focus provided by a wand.

Harry sighed resignedly and closed his eyes. He focused all of his concentration on his destination and vanished with a nearly inaudible crack, reappearing outside the bronze double doors of Gringotts. His face broke into a wide smile as he realized that he wasn't nearly as drained as he would normally be after Apparating such a long distance even with a wand.

'Looks like I really do have more power available.' He grinned. 'Look out, World! Here I come!'

Harry turned to climb the white marble steps of Gringotts. As he'd suspected, the bank was still open. He had once been told that the Goblins had more flexible hours due to their natural habitat being under ground caves. At the moment, he found he didn't much care about the reasoning behind their hours. He was just happy that they were open when he needed to access his accounts.

He took a moment to look around for dangerous people or situations, disguising it as looking around in awe. As he read the poem on the great bronze doors, he cast about with his senses, looking for dark beings and the auras of dark wizards. Finding one but knowing that their attention wasn't on him, Harry entered the bank. Keeping with his awed act, he slowly made his way up to the lone teller on duty.

"Excuse me," Harry mentally cursed when it came out as a small, frightened squeak, but shrugged mentally thinking it wouldn't hurt his persona.

The teller sneered down at him from the added height given to him by the raised dais on which his desk was perched. Harry could almost see the Goblin's impatience rise within him. His demeanor said, 'Great, just what I need, some youngling that has lost its parents.'

The Goblin sighed and said sharply, "Yes, what do you want?"

Harry's eyes hardened as his temper rose. He spoke softly and coldly to the teller, "First of all, you can inform Senior Manager Griphook that his presence is requested as soon as possible, and then you may show me to a private room in which I can await his arrival."

The Goblin, not sensing danger of any kind said, "Senior Manager Griphook is a very important Goblin. He has no time to waste on children. I suggest you come back with your guardian if you truly have business with him." He looked down at the large slab sized ledger on his desk and dismissed Harry with a curt, "Good day."

Harry, realizing for the first time the disadvantage of looking like a malnourished eleven-year-old, thought furiously for a moment. Goblins tended to respect people who could speak their language. Even more, they tended to respect people that insulted them. Call it a racial quirk. Keeping this in mind, Harry approached the teller once again, putting up a privacy ward around the desk and proceeded to dress him down, Drill Sergeant style, loudly discussing every thing from his ancestry and personal hygiene to his lack of morals and honor, all in perfect Gobbledygook.

When the young Goblin was practically shaking in his boots, and thinking that the apocalypse was nigh, Harry asked (read demanded) once again to see Griphook. This time there was no hesitation and the teller showed him to a private office. He left, still looking a bit shaken to go find the requested Goblin.

Harry looked around the well appointed office, taking in the large windows surrounded by yards of heavy, scarlet colored, velvet drapes, mahogany paneling and bookshelves filled with leather bound books written in Gobbledygook. He couldn't help but admire the thick Oriental rug that practically begged him to walk barefoot on it.

A large mahogany desk with an expensive looking quill set and a desk blotter on it presided over the room. Behind this monstrosity, a comfortable looking leather office chair waited for its occupant and before it, two comfortable leather chairs inviting Harry to sit.

Instead, he wandered over to the bookcase and perused the stuffy looking financial tomes on the bottom shelf. The higher shelves were, to his displeasure, too high for his eleven-year-old height to see properly.

About ten minutes after the Goblin left, the door opened again and admitted the first Goblin that Harry had ever met. Griphook took the seat behind the large, ornate desk and turned hard eyes on the-boy-who-lived. That look coming from a Goblin would normally give even the most hardened Auror pause. Harry barely batted an eye.

If this young human's fortitude shocked Griphook, he didn't show it. The surprise he felt when Harry knelt before him with his right fist over his heart in a formal Goblin salute showed clearly on his face and he even did a double take when Harry spoke for the first time.

Again in perfect Gobbledygook, he said, "Greetings to the Keeper of My Vaults. May your gold flow freely."

"And yours as well, Mr. Potter" he answered in English. Shaking off his shock at being addressed so formally by one so young, he asked, "and to what do I owe your rather late visit?"

"My apologies for the hour of my visit, Master Griphook. I wished to visit my vaults and claim my inheritance as the Head of the Potter family. This was the best time for me to sneak away from my Muggle relatives." He gave a wry smile. "I fear if they were aware of what my vaults hold, they would try to take it away. If they were successful in that endeavor, they would withdraw the Potter fortune and entrust it to a Muggle bank."

Griphook looked at Harry appraisingly. "That would be unfortunate. Very well, let us begin. I am, as you know, the manager of the Potter estate. As such, I was supposed to be the executor of your parents' wills. Unfortunately, Mr. Dumbledore decided that their will could be better executed if he were to do it. I never actually saw the wills, but your mother and father spoke to me about what they wanted to happen if the worst should happen."

Harry nodded to show he was following and the Goblin continued. "Their wills were sealed by Mr. Dumbledore shortly after their deaths. The reason I bring this up is that in the normal order of things, you would not be able to claim Headship of your family or your inheritance until you reached your majority. If your parents' wills stated otherwise, however, you will be able to claim it when they specified."

"So, we need the wills?" Asked Harry.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter."

Harry gave his permission for Griphook to unseal the wills and when they arrived from the department where they were stored, Griphook read over one while Harry read the other. When they were done, they switched.

Last Will and Testament of

Lily Evans Potter

I, Lily Potter, being of sound mind and body, affirm that this is my last will and testament and should be enacted upon my death.

My Husband and I are preparing to go into hiding from the Dark Lord Voldemort. We have told people that Sirius Black will be our Secret Keeper. Should we be betrayed, it was not his doing. We switched to Peter Pettigrew because we hoped that he would be the least likely suspect should Voldemort wish to find out where we were.

Should I die before my Husband, James Potter, all of my worldly possessions should become his. If James dies before I do, everything should go to our son, Harry Potter and kept in trust at Gringotts Bank until be reaches the age of 11.

In the event that my Husband and I die before Harry comes of age, he is to inherit the Potter estate upon his eleventh birthday. Should we not be able to care for Harry, I designate the following people, in order of preference, to care for my son.

Sirius Orion Black – Godfather to Harry James Potter

Remus John Lupin – Secondary Godfather to Harry James Potter

Minerva McGonagall – Good Friend

Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore – Good Friend and Great Wizard

Poppy Pomphrey – Midwife and Good Friend

I want it perfectly understood that under no circumstances should Harry be left with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They are intolerant Muggles and would not be able or willing to care for a Magical child.

Signed and Witnessed July 25, 1981

Lily Evans Potter Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

James Potter's will was nearly identical to his wife's.

Last Will and Testament of

James Potter

I, James Potter, being of sound mind and body, affirm that this is my last will and testament and should be enacted upon my death.

My Wife and I are preparing to go into hiding from the Dark Lord Voldemort. We have told people that Sirius Black will be our Secret Keeper. Should we be betrayed, it was not his doing. We switched to Peter Pettigrew because we hoped that he would be the least likely suspect should Voldemort wish to find out where we were.

Should I die before my Wife, Lily Evans Potter, all of my worldly possessions should become hers. If Lily dies before I do, everything should go to our son, Harry Potter and kept in trust at Gringotts Bank until be reaches the age of 11.

In the event that my Wife and I die before Harry comes of age, he is to inherit the Potter estate upon his eleventh birthday. Should we not be able to care for Harry, I designate the following people, in order of preference, to care for my son.

Sirius Orion Black – Godfather to Harry James Potter

Remus John Lupin – Secondary Godfather to Harry James Potter

Minerva McGonagall – Good Friend

Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore – Good Friend and Great Wizard

Poppy Pomphrey – Midwife and Good Friend

I want it perfectly understood that under no circumstances should Harry be left with Petunia and Vernon Dursley. They are intolerant Muggles and would not be able or willing to care for a Magical child.

Signed and Witnessed July 25, 1981

James Potter Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Harry knew what they said before he read them, but made a show of acting surprised. He also knew that Dumbledore had kept this from him and in the original timeline, he had not learned of the will's existences until he went through his parent's vault. He didn't bother to act as betrayed as he had felt when he originally found the wills. At this point in this timeline, he had not even met Albus Dumbledore and so could not feel betrayed by him. But he made a promise to himself that he would not allow the aged Headmaster to use him this time.

Griphook finished reading and set aside Lily Potter's will. "As you now know, Mr. Potter, you are only a week away from being able to claim the Potter Legacy. Is this your intention?"

"It is." Harry furrowed his brow as if in thought. "About this Sirius Black… why was I not sent to live with him? Both the wills stated that I wasn't to be sent to the Dursleys, but I was."

"Ah, well..." Griphook seemed a bit nervous. "As I told you before, Mr. Dumbledore sealed the wills before we could try to carry them out. As to why you were not claimed by Lord Black, I am afraid he was incarcerated in Azkaban prison for betraying your parents and killing Peter Pettigrew." He scowled at the wills. "However, with this evidence, I believe that we should push for him to get the trial he never got."

Putting on his best innocent-little-boy act, Harry asked, "You mean they sent him to prison without a trial? How could they do that?"

"You have to understand, Mr. Potter, that at the time, people believed that he was your parent's Secret Keeper. They had no reason to suspect that he was not guilty. However," Griphook's eyes took on a fierce gleam, "I think we could get him free, and with a tidy settlement for wrongful imprisonment."

Harry grinned at the Goblin. He had always liked how they could find just about any way to make money off of something. "Do you think we can get him out by my birthday? I'll need someone to 'raise me'."

"We can certainly try, Mr. Potter."

"Good. Can you go over everything I will be inheriting in a week with me? I think I need to make some decisions on where I'm going to live and things like that."

The next few hours were spent going over things that Harry had known for the better part of a decade. He just listened to his Account Manager and thought about what he needed to accomplish in the next week. Finally they were done going over the extensive holdings of the Potter estate.

"Thank you, Griphook, you've been most helpful. Now, I'm going to be spending the next week in Diagon Alley, since I obviously won't have access to Potter Manor or any of the other properties until I claim the Legacy. I was planning on taking a room at the Leaky Cauldron, but realize that they might have issues with letting a room to me because of my age. Is there anything that would help me with that?"

"Well, you could always offer to pay up front." Griphook stroked his chin in thought. "There are always glamours of course… Yes, I think that would work. It would keep people from recognizing you as well." He started to explain about Goblin glamours and Harry let him carry on, not letting it show that he already knew everything he was told.

"That sounds good. Also, is there a way to get money out of my vault without having to come to the bank each time? I need to get my school supplies and stuff like that."

"Of course. We offer an enchanted money pouch that will only allow you to remove money, but anyone can make a deposit. Normally they would cost 100 Galleons, but your father had one and decided that you needed one as well. He left it in my care." Griphook opened a drawer and removed a small bag that had the Gringotts and Potter crests embroidered on it.

"Simply say how much you wish to withdraw and it will appear in the bag. This bag is connected to your trust fund. Should you wish to have one connected to the Potter Family Vault, you will need to purchase it once you are in charge of it."

Griphook paused for a moment and looked at Harry shrewdly. "Will you be doing any shopping in the Muggle world?"

Harry smiled inwardly. "Actually, I had planned on buying a whole Muggle wardrobe." He gestured depreciatingly at his attire. "As you can see, my current one is not fit for someone of my standing."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. The reason I ask is because Gringotts has recently started using a Muggle invention called a 'Debit Card'."

Harry nodded to show that he knew what that was. "I assume that the standard conversion fees apply?"

"Naturally. There is a small start up fee of 20 Galleons. That covers the card and a Muggle picture identification card that will change to match your current appearance. After that, just the standard fees apply." Griphook gave a pointy-toothed smile. "Would you be interested in that?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. It would be easier than carrying around hundreds of pounds. "Yes, I think that would be good."

Griphook took care of the glamour and debit card and around 5 o'clock in the morning, after receiving Griphook's assurances that his visit would be kept in the strictest of confidences, Harry was on his way to the Leaky Cauldron to get a room for the next week. Tomorrow, he would outfit himself for school and work on solidifying the rest of his plans. But for now, a warm meal and a soft bed were all he really wanted.

Author's Note:

I got this anonymous review for the last chapter.

Original Review:

"they are effing trunks man, they are for clothes, not to live in, get over

it. skimmed your story couldnt actually read it way to many bs cliche for me.

so for the most part this looked rushed, not sure if you took biology yet but

only one person at time can father a child with one woman, yes even if its

twins still gonna be one of them not both. "Anti-Apparation

Anti-Disapparation Anti-Portkey Anti-Suicide Anti-Owl Anti-Tracking

Anti-Tracing Magic Dampening Sound Proofing Air Circulation Health Monitoring

One Way Door Anti-Animagus" which one of these is so dark that the merchant

has trouble doing it?"

This is my response (if you don't want to see me get a little pissy, I suggest you stop here):

To the rude person who left this flame, without having the rocks to sign it, I say, it's my story and I'll do with it what I please. If I want him to have an 'effing' trunk in which he can live, I will. If you don't like it, I suggest you write your own fanfiction and quit reading mine. The fact that you simply skimmed this story without actually taking the time to read what you were flaming reflects badly on you. I am sorry that it had 'way to many bs cliche' for you and I assure you that it was not rushed. I took over a week to make it just right.

Also, I am curious as to where you saw me mention someone having more than one father. If you had bothered to actually read my story instead of just deciding to flame it, you would have known that I made no reference to someone having more than one biological father. I am assuming you were referring to Hermione's pregnancy and my statement that Ron and Harry were going to be daddies. To this, I say, if a woman has two lovers (and they know about each other and are all three in a loving relationship) and she doesn't know who the father of her child is, or even if she did, would the three of them not consider the child all of theirs? Not every daddy has to be a biological father and not every father is a daddy. Narrow minded person.

Just FYI, I have probably reached a higher level of education than you, judging on your serious lack of spelling and grammar abilities, and as a matter of fact, I specialized in Biology (Bachelor of Science in Biology, pre-med). As to your narrow minded belief that even twins have to have the same father, I am delighted to say that you are wrong. If a woman releases two eggs, and copulates (that mean has sex) with two different men (usually within a day or so of each other) it is possible for fraternal twins to have different fathers. I suggest you check your facts before lecturing someone about something that you obviously have little to no knowledge about. Besides, who's to say how a magical body works? That's what makes this world so much fun to play in. The possibilities are endless.

As to the list of prison spells, all of them in conjunction (that means together) would be considered dark and illegal for a private citizen to have. Most notably, the magic dampening charm would be considered dark (or at the very least gray). I don't know about you, but if someone tried to hack off my arm and toss me in prison, I would think that was evil. Magic is just another appendage (body part) to witches and wizards.

The next time you feel the need to flame me, at least sign it so I can tell you to your face what an idiot you are. A wise man once said, "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

And thus ends my rant.

While I realize that it is cliché, next chapter, Harry goes shopping.

Thank you for reading.

Please sign your review. Thank you.