I don't own Harry Potter, so I just make do with Fanfiction.

I am so sorry it's taken so long to update, but I've got a novel to write and other stories to focus on as well, but I do plan on getting to them quickly. Anyway, I hope you are all okay, and I hope things go back to normal soon.

Please let me know what you think.

Harry Potter: The Spider-Man Burglar.

Harry came slowly out of the cupboard under the stairs, grimacing as he bent his back as he left the damn hole. Suddenly he heard a laugh, and he felt a large hand shove him back inside.

"Get out of the way, Potter!" he heard Dudley laugh while he was thrown backwards by the force of the shove into the wall, and he groaned with pain as his back hit the wall. All the time, he could hear Dudley and his stupid laugh.

Damn it, Dudley! Harry thought to himself angrily as he pushed the residual pain aside and pulled himself back out of the cupboard. Don't you have anything better to do with your life than play the same stupid game time and again!?

Then again, why was he so surprised?

He had come to the realisation Dudley would never change; with how his parents babied and spoilt him rotten, allowing him to get away with so much, and eat so much food in one hour that a family suffering from starvation in Africa could live on for a week, maybe two, until he was so morbidly obese, only a miracle would force Dudley, his not cousin, to change.

But what annoyed Harry the most was while many of the other kids at school close to his age were gradually pushing aside their previous childish attitudes, Dudley and co remained at the mental age of six or five. Harry pushed the annoyance away as he came out of the cupboard, and he went into the kitchen. He was unsurprised when Vernon took one look at him and barked his usual 'good morning' greeting. "Comb your hair, Boy! I won't have a hooligan like you smearing our good name."

Harry lifted an eyebrow, his expression showing his contempt for the Dursleys and everything about them. He wondered if Vernon even realised just how much he could not care less about their precious family name. Rumours of his thefts had circulated around the neighbourhood a long time ago, they weren't going to go away just because his hair was messy. But then again the Dursleys were so finite in their perception of the world. They saw things in black and white, although they were never able to see beyond the edge of their stupid car.

It's funny, he reflected to himself privately, now I know we're not related, I find I couldn't care less if your disgusting, filthy, muggle family rots under the ground.

He just ignored the fat pig and walked to the stove to see to the breakfast without being told, and as he got to work on the cooking he felt rather than saw Petunia leaning over him. "Just cook the breakfast, but don't burn anything, boy!" she hissed in his ear.

Harry wanted to take the burning hot pan and slap it in her face, instead, he took a long moment to relax and focus on the task at hand. It looked like this was just going to be one of those mornings where he would have nothing but the Dursleys in his face. As he cooked, a part of him was tempted to burn the food and use his magic to put these animals in the place they needed to put in, and he would keep them there forever. But he decided against it. He needed to keep his emotions clear today for the unscheduled (for the goblins) appointment with Gringotts.

When he was sitting down at the table while he kept watch on Dudley who was eyeing his food with those piggy eyes of his, Harry slowly ate his meagre meal, wincing at the amount of oil and fat on the plate. Ever since he had read up on healthy living, he had come to realise just how unhealthy the Dursleys were although he'd already had some idea since there was no way any responsible parent would give their child so much food, both fatty and laden down with enough sugars to give an elephant a heart attack, it had become yet another pressing reason for Harry to get away from the Dursleys.

When he was gone, he would have to find his own food. Only he would never eat the way these things did.

"Get ready for school, Boy!" Vernon ordered when he was finished. "We don't want another incident, do we?"

As far as Harry was concerned, an act of theft at this point would look tame if one of the plans he had come up with to finally rid himself of this family and get them out of his life for good came true.

"Sorry to tell you, but I'm not going today. Look into my eyes!" Harry stared at the Dursleys, pushing his magic into his command, probably more than he would normally have done.

Very quickly the Dursleys fell under the spell.

It never failed to amuse or amaze Harry in equal measure how easy it was for the Dursleys to fall under hypnosis; for a family who was loud, arrogant, and vindictive, they were terribly weak-minded. However, thinking about the mental shortcomings of the Dursleys reminded Harry of how his own memory had been tampered with. He wanted those memories back. He wanted to know and remember precisely what Dumbledore had done to him, forcing him to remain here with the Dursleys.

That's better, Harry thought to himself while he took a moment to admire the Dursleys quiet and still rather than staring at him with greed, hatred, or disgust. It didn't take long for Harry to remind himself he needed the Dursleys to be completely under his spell rather than admired at the moment since now they were quiet and docile.

"I will not be going to school today," he said. "Aunt Petunia," he paused for a second while he mentally winced at the title he had given to the bitter old bitch who wasn't even related to him, but he pushed that aside, "today you will contact the school, tell them I have come down with a 24-hour virus, and I will need plenty of rest. But I will be there tomorrow. Vernon, Dudley, the pair of you will avoid me today when I get back. You both think I have the 24-hour bug, and as a result, you are treating me like I don't exist. Other than that the pair of you will carry on with the day as you normally do. Vernon, you will give me thirty quid, believing that you had loaned it to Petunia, although you have told her that you don't need it back. Vernon, get your wallet out now and obey the command."

Vernon silently withdrew his wallet and counted out the money before he placed it quietly near Harry, who took it and stuffed it in his pocket after checking it was the right amount.

Harry stood up. "You will all remain in your trance for the time being. I am going to get ready to leave. When I close the door loudly, the three of you will follow your instructions. You will not speak about the 24-hour bug with anyone. You will carry out your daily business as normal. Do not speak about me to anyone."

With the final instruction implanted in their minds, Harry was about to leave and get ready to get out of the house and head for London where he would be meeting with the goblins so he could finalise his long-term plans, and hopefully choose the direction he wanted those same plans to take, but for a moment he watched the Dursleys. It was so funny and incongruous watching them just sitting helplessly like this, sitting like dolls in a giant dolls house, unresponsive and unmoving.

It was tempting, he needed to admit, to just leave them like this, under his spell while a part of their minds was likely beating inside their skulls, screaming to be let free. It reminded him a great deal about how he had been treated himself as a child forced to serve the Dursleys after his parents had been murdered by that bastard Voldemort and he'd been imprisoned here by Dumbledore who wanted him dead for his own reasons, but now he knew the Dursleys were just puppets in real life although they were too stupid to see it for themselves, he realised he wanted them to suffer the way he had.

Did he care much if that made him a bad person?

God no.

Harry walked out of the kitchen made his final preparations before he walked out of the house and he headed for the train station. Once he got to the station, he paid for his ticket and he went down to the platform to wait for the train. He only needed to wait for twenty minutes before the train arrived, which gave him the time he needed to think about how the meeting with the goblins would go.

He had questioned Mrs Figg about them, and how he should deal with them.

According to the old hag, the goblins were not the friendliest of magical beings, but Harry had noted just how prejudiced the woman was even under hypnosis when she spoke about the goblins. What was even more surprising for Harry was the goblins were the ones who handled the banking for the magical world, but it looked like so many didn't like that fact.

Harry had no idea what he was going to expect from the goblins. Would they alert Dumbledore to his visiting them? Or would they help him?

He would just have to wait and see.

XXX

Sometime later while he stood outside the Leaky Cauldron (he had guessed already the magical world had placed spells on the grotty looking old pub to hide it from the non-magical world; he'd been standing out here for a while now, and he hadn't noticed anyone even walking into the pub), Harry was just savouring the moment.

For the first time in a long time, he was going to enter the magical world, but he didn't know what he was going to find when he went in.

Mrs Figg might have given him a great deal of information under hypnosis, but as he stood outside the pub dressed in a dark coat which covered his school clothes since he had known the people in the street would have been spying on him, he realised that he didn't know as much of the magical world as he'd have liked.

Harry closed his eyes. So much depended on the meeting today, even though the goblins did not know he was coming. He didn't know anything about them, he had no idea if they would help him and give him what he wanted in the long term. But at the same time, he wanted to know what would happen if he planned to get rid of the Dursleys and make his own way into the world without their so-called protection. At the same time, he wanted to know what could be done about the Horcrux in his head.

Ideally, he would have the thing removed and if possible destroyed, but because he had no idea what would happen if he went with the option if it existed, Harry didn't know what choice he had.

He shook his head and he stepped cautiously ahead, knowing in the next hour or so - he had no idea just how long he was going to be here - his entire future was going to be decided.

He blinked when he stepped into the pub, stunned by how dingy and grubby the place was. The conditions inside the pub and the general dress of everyone inside - were they wizards and witches? If so, it was hard to believe; fantasy fiction and movies made sorcerers out to be clean, healthy people at the best of times - made Harry feel like he had just stepped back in time a century.

Harry pushed that aside - he would have time to explore the magical world in a bit while finding out for himself if they were all just lazy about their appearances - and he approached the bar counter. "Excuse me," he said clearly to the man there. "Look into my eyes."

The bar man's eyes glazed over as Harry's magic hypnotised him.

"I am trying to get into Diagon Alley. You will help me, do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," the man replied.

"Good. Now, when I click my fingers you will return to normal. You will get an employee to come over and take over the bar, and you will show me how to get into Diagon Alley. Understood?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good." Harry clicked his fingers, and the barman returned to normal. He blinked for a minute while his mind snapped back into place, and he turned and looked down where he saw Harry. A big friendly smile spread across his face.

"Of course I'll help you get into Diagon Alley, lad!" he said in a friendly voice before he turned to a woman wearing a tall, slightly tatty witch's hat. "Hey, Vanessa, mind taking over for a minute while I take this lad out the back?"

"You don't normally do that, Tom," the woman argued.

"Yeah, well, I wanna do it," Tom argued back, the hypnotic spell's strength shining through.

"Okay, okay," the woman held up her hands in surrender, and she took over from Tom, who led Harry out of the back. Harry looked around, surprised to find himself in a tiny backyard surrounded by a square brick wall. This was the entrance to a magical world? He found it hard to believe, but he had begun to realise not everything was as it seemed a long time ago.

Tom tapped a certain wall at certain points with his wand. Harry had him show him the pattern again to help him memorise it, but the barman soon left while the bricks formed the portal into Diagon Alley.

For a moment Harry looked out into the magical shopping district, feeling like with the pub he'd stepped back in time a hundred years. The feel of the shopping district itself gave it an ancient, albeit timeless feel. Harry stepped through the portal and walked through the street, passing a number of shops while he noted each and every single one of them and what they held. He was tempted to go into each of them, see what they held and if they had anything that could help him in the long run, but he decided against it, although he did give the bookshop a longing stare.

He was mystified slightly when he passed a shop and saw it was selling owls, of all things, but he would learn more about it later when he had finished with the goblins.

It didn't take long for him to find this Gringotts. It was easily the most recognisable place in the Alley, and it dominated a large chunk of the space and it was a pure white building which looked like not a speck of muck had touched it. The real kicker was the goblin guards standing at the entrance. Harry studied the guards for a moment, noticing their armour and their weapons. Their armour appeared to be a miniaturised, scaled-down cross between a medieval knight, a Roman legionnaire, and a Japanese Samurai, but while the armour looked strong it looked slightly out of place on such a diminutive being. But one look into the hard eyes of the goblin told Harry this goblin was more than prepared for a fight if provoked, and he and his buddies had the means of backing it up.

The goblin Harry was studying was holding a very large battle axe, but one look at the razor-sharp blade persuaded Harry the goblins were not to be crossed. Harry stepped through into the bank, hoping the goblins were trustworthy and wouldn't betray him to Dumbledore. However, as he walked through the doors, he saw the ominous warning to thieves.

XXX

Once he was over the threshold of the bank, Harry looked around for a free goblin whom he could speak to. It was almost impossible given there were lines of people waiting to be dealt with by the goblin bankers. Harry sighed. He had hoped to avoid this, but it looked like it couldn't be helped. He walked around the bank, looking for a free banker. Finally, after a while he spotted a formerly closed desk being opened by a goblin, and he hurried over to the counter before the goblin could announce he was free.

The goblin looked down his nose at the small human. "What do you want?"

"My name is Harry Potter. I need to speak to my account manager immediately please," Harry answered holding back his reaction to the way the goblin had spoken to him, which was unprofessional, to say the least.

The goblin looked torn for a second, and Harry was surprised by the different emotions he could see playing on the goblins' face. "Excuse me, one moment," he said before he tapped something in front of him, and then spoke in a snarling, guttural language. The interesting thing was the goblin was having a conversation with another goblin, who answered back in the same language. Harry didn't know what the goblin was saying to one of his colleagues, or even what was going to happen next, so he decided the best thing for him to do was to wait.

According to his watch, the conversation between the two goblins lasted for two minutes. When it was over the goblin sitting behind the desk stared at Harry.

"If you will wait a moment, Mr Potter," he said, "one of my colleagues will escort you to the Potter family Account Manager."

Harry inclined his head, noting the way the goblin banker had just stressed his surname. "Thank you," he said, noticing at once the goblin's expression shift. Was the goblin surprised by something he'd said? Another mystery to add to the pile. He had noticed that about the goblin he had been speaking to. The goblin seemed surprised by him, but Harry wondered why, but he guessed he could find out in a while from now.

Another goblin appeared. Like the other goblins, this one was wearing a pin-striped suit that looked immaculate. They were clearly dressing either to impress or to show themselves as a very magical people who took pride in themselves. The new goblin sent a look towards Harry, said a few things in the language of the goblins to the one who had been dealing with Harry, and he seemed satisfied with the answer his colleague said in reply before he approached Harry.

"This way, Mr Potter," the goblin said, putting the same stress on Harry's surname which made Harry begin to suspect the goblins had been encountering people who had tried to break into his account or claim it for some reason or another. Harry followed the goblin willingly, deciding to face whatever the goblins had in mind.

The goblin led him down a series of corridors, but what worried Harry the most was the way the goblin he was following had gestured to a few of the armoured goblins out in the main hall to follow, and despite Harry's best efforts not to look at them he couldn't help but catch the expression in one of the armoured goblins.

He seemed to have a hungry, longing look every time he looked at Harry. The burglar couldn't help but liken the goblin's expression to a hungry shark staring at a very fat whale. Finally, he was led into an office and ushered him into a seat before taking his own chair, but it was impossible for Harry to get comfortable with the armoured goblins around him. He looked around the office to take in his surroundings to put his mind off of them.

The office was twice the size of the living room at Privet Drive, vaguely circular. The walls themselves appeared to be hewn out of the rock, lining them were numerous bookshelves laden with tomes bound in dark coloured leather.

Harry turned his attention back to the desk, noting its dark red coloured appearance. The colour reminded him of blood, but what really took his attention was the rack of weapons that looked like they'd been hauled out of a Tolkien story. Only these looked more vicious, somehow; the battle axe was enormous, probably large enough to slice the front of Vernon's car into two with just one hit. The light glimmered on the weapon. Clearly, the goblins wanted it to be that way, highlighting the dark stained on the honed razor-sharp edge. Blood. Harry realised they were here as a warning against any who tried to cause trouble with the goblins. Once he was sitting opposite the goblin who'd led them here, Harry took a good look. The goblin, he realised now especially since they were sitting on eye level, appeared much older than the goblin outside although Harry wasn't sure just how old the goblin was. But what took Harry by surprise was the smile which showed the small, sharp-pointed teeth in the goblin's mouth. Harry was beginning to get worried about the goblins, who seemed to be treating him as a rabbit they were playing with.

The goblin broke eye contact and brought something out of his desk drawer. It was a sheet of blood-red parchment. The goblin opened it up and took out a particularly sharp-looking dagger.

"Cut your finger and place the blood on the parchment," the goblin in front of him ordered. Harry took the knife after being prodded into doing it by one of the armoured goblins near him, realising he had little choice but to cooperate. The goblins were armed, which gave them a great deal of persuasion, and he didn't have any weapons of his own and he wasn't sure if his own powers, which were more than enough to deal with non-magical people would even work on the goblins.

Holding the dagger and preparing himself against the sting, Harry cut his index finger without flinching and held it out over the paper, squeezing the finger between his thumb and his middle finger, letting some of his blood fall on the parchment. The moment the blood droplets fell on the paper, it glowed red.

He saw his name appear on the top of the paper, followed by the name of his parents, followed by more information but he was unable to read it…

"It appears you really are Harry Potter," the old goblin commented, making Harry raise his eyebrows again. He had already gotten the impression someone else had been trying to get into his account, although he wasn't sure why, but he was going to find out.

The old goblin, meanwhile, lifted his eyes and turned to the armoured goblins. "Leave us; I'll call you back if you are needed."

Harry kept still as the goblins bowed and left the office, but he noticed one or two seemed a bit disappointed.

"You appear to be the right one, this time. I have been waiting for you to arrive for a long time, although I hadn't expected you to arrive until your eleventh birthday since Dumbledore promised you would come then," the old goblin said, sneering Dumbledore's name disdainfully.

"This time? I've been noting some of you seemed sceptical of my identity. Are you saying wizards have been trying to get you to let them plunder my bank account?" Harry asked.

The old goblin sighed. "Mr Potter, when I received word you were in the bank, I organised that squad of guards to accompany you. I admit I was surprised; while Dumbledore promised you would be arriving on your eleventh birthday, many people have tried to lay claim to your family funds for reasons I cannot understand, although I speculate it's due to your fame, and they want to claim it as theirs while saying they're going to look after it or some stupid thing like that. Don't ask me what goes through the minds of wizards, Mr Potter; I don't understand the logic they use. Even some of the Ministry of Magic have tried to do it while claiming they plan on turning you into a ward, although if they had their way then you wouldn't even see a single coin."

Harry nodded, hiding his anger some of the people in the magical world had tried to steal what money he had in Gringotts, including the Ministry of Magic. He was curious about what would possess people to do that, especially if he had supposedly driven off the evilest wizard of all time. Okay, he knew fame drew people to those who had it in abundance, making them do things which defied all common sense, but to actually try to steal from him on that level…Harry might be a thief himself, but there were things which went too far. He wondered if those same wizards just wanted a piece of the action or some insane thing like that.

But the Ministry of Magic…

Harry guessed, if they were like the politicians Vernon liked the rant about, they wanted to look good for the masses, and if they happened to make a profit on the side….great. Harry decided to wait and see about what the Ministry did in the future, although right now he hadn't gotten a good impression of them.

Still, at least he had solved the mystery of why the goblins seemed belligerent towards him. Harry was insulted by their lack of intelligence and subtlety; he would have thought the Ministry would have come up with something less obvious as a ploy to steal his family fortune, but it appeared they were incapable of coming up with anything other than blunderbuss tactics that intelligent people who looked at problems with a fine-tooth comb would be able to solve, and he wasn't sure if this was typical of the magical world or not, but if it was then he was very very worried about his own future.

If these people were as stupid as he was beginning to suspect, then it was looking more likely he would need to find alternatives to living in this country and attending Hogwarts.

"What did Dumbledore say about me?" Harry asked, deciding to get down to business.

The old goblin grimaced. "He claimed you would be returning to the magical world at the age of eleven, but at the same time," and here the goblin's voice darkened with annoyance, "I was annoyed and concerned when you didn't reply to your mail."

"What mail? I haven't received any mail from anyone, and I didn't even know I was a wizard until recently," Harry replied, knowing that he was technically telling the truth. He might have been curious about his powers, and he might have come up with a number of wild guesses of what they were all about, but the magic hadn't been one of them.

The old goblin reared back in shock. And then he began hissing with anger. "The old fool! Are you serious? You haven't received any mail?"

"No," Harry clenched his fists, mentally adding another point against Dumbledore. It was bad enough the wizard had shoved him in an abusive home with people who hated him but weren't even related to him in the first place, and that was before he had learnt the old bastard planned to have him sacrifice his own life to end Voldemort.

Speaking of which…

Harry studied the goblin closely. He wasn't sure if he could trust the goblins, but his dislike for Dumbledore seemed genuine. In any case, there was no harm in trying, especially since he was desperate to get rid of the Horcrux in his scar, the Horcrux which seemed to be an important part of Dumbledore's sick schemes.

"I have received no letters from the magical world," he repeated. "I only found out about the magical world recently when I went to someone who was babysitting me. She's one of Dumbledore's lackeys, she basically told me of a plot by Dumbledore and his little group, the Order of the Phoenix, to use me to sacrifice my life against Lord Voldemort."

The goblin hissed and shook his head in what Harry took to be wonder. "And wizards claim they're better than us," he whispered, "we may be warriors, but we do not sacrifice our young!"

Harry took a deep breath. He didn't know how the goblin would react, but he quickly decided he needed to lay down the groundwork. "I don't know if it's better or worse; Voldemort created something called Horcruxes."

"WHAT?" the goblin snarled, taking Harry by surprise. "He created those abominations!? Does he not realise the danger he's put himself in? Oh, of course not, since when do wizards ever learn anything!?"

Harry was taken by surprise by the goblins outburst, but what amazed him the most was despite how rhetorically the goblin insulted human wizards intelligence, there was genuine horror and disbelief laced in. "I see you're not a fan of Horcruxes, then?" he asked in an almost casual manner, but he couldn't see any other way of voicing his question. In any case, it was bait for a better explanation and for options on how they could handle this.

"We hate them," the goblin replied while he struggled to calm down from his angry, disbelieving rant. "They are abominations. The people who created them believed tearing the soul to shreds was the key to immortality, but they didn't realise when they did that the soul pieces didn't grant eternal life. In Egypt, Ancient Egyptian Pharaohs who wished to live forever gave up on using them altogether simply for that reason, but also if they stupidly misplaced one of their soul fragments and it fell into the hands of an enemy, then they could gain access to the magic of the caster. Horcruxes don't just split the soul, Mr Potter, they split magic as well.

"With a soul fragment, you could drain the other wizard's magic. The enemies of the Pharaohs discovered this trait of the method and used the soul fragments as a weapon which drained their enemies of their magic and therefore their lives. The Ancient Egyptians were not the only ones to develop this vile type of magic, there were other wizards who studied and developed them. Many magical beings - goblins, elves, for instance, see them as abominations because of how much damage they can cause to the soul.

"Our Curse Breakers discover these things everywhere. Each one is trained to detect them and to drain them and to make sure they do not try to sell them, we lace a desire to ensure they are destroyed into our magical contracts with them, so they see them as abominations. We did this only because some of the Curse Breakers in the past sold them off without recognising the dangers, or they foolishly used them themselves as models for immortality as well, but only because they didn't have the full facts. Many countries with magical communities have banned the existence of the texts which contain details of the Horcruxes, except to those who study ancient magical arts to stop the spread of people who split their souls, foolish but it is a logical belief that without the information on hand, no-one would know, therefore it will never happen.

"However, it's not foolproof, and this is just another example," the goblin finished, leaning back in his chair, seemingly lost in thought for a moment while Harry watched on, wondering what the goblin would say next.

Finally, after a moment, the goblin began speaking again. "Why would Dumbledore sacrifice you if the Dark Lord Voldemort created Horcruxes?"

Harry didn't know how to respond so he hesitated for a second, but then he decided to get it out and over with. If he didn't have the goblin's aid, then there was a chance of Dumbledore's sick plan working after all. "I'll answer that in a moment, but first you said a moment ago the enemies of the Pharaohs found a way of draining the magic of the soul pieces, is it dangerous?"

"Not at all," the goblin replied, giving Harry a suspicious look. "Why do you ask?'

"How are the soul pieces stored? I mean, are they deposited in another person or in an object?"

"They're usually placed in an object. Many valuable treasures have been lost as a result because many people have placed soul pieces in items like diamond necklaces, vases dating thousands of years, and their belief the only way to destroy the Horcrux is to destroy the container. That's probably the solution Dumbledore has in mind; the draining method is more elegant and efficient, as it not only destroys all the Horcruxes at once without even touching them physically when you've got access to just one, but it also drains the magic of the wizard or witch in the process, but it's not as well known," the goblin replied patiently while he stared at Harry suspiciously. "Why?"

Harry hesitated. He had no idea how the goblin was going to take this, and he hoped the goblin didn't just lop off his head when he came out with the truth. "Dumbledore plans on using me as a sacrificial martyr for his cause because he has determined that my scar contains one of Voldemort's Horcruxes."

The goblin gaped at him in disbelief. His mouth even moved, mouthing the name Dumbledore, the word scar, and lastly Horcrux.

"He believes you have a Horcrux in your scar, but instead of finding someone more knowledgeable than himself, he decides to take the matter into his own, inexperienced hands?"

"Sounds like it. And he plans to subject me to more abuse at Hogwarts, pushing me to become a selfless saviour," Harry sneered the words, almost reassured the goblins weren't going to kill him for having the Horcrux in his scar, intriguing the goblin instantly, "and lastly making me sacrifice my own life without any thought on the matter."

The goblin was fascinated by the boy now. He had been dealing with Potters for a long time, and while some members had frustrated him - James Potter most of all, with the humans' lack of common sense - it was clear Harry was a completely different person. "You don't like your fame," he commented shortly in an attempt to get a better idea of the boy's character.

"I haven't known the magical world long enough to know how it feels, but even with the limited experience I have, I don't like it. I don't like the fact my parents were killed, and I was put on a pedestal for something I don't even remember doing, never mind something I couldn't personally have done. You see," Harry trailed off thoughtfully for a moment before he returned to the conversation after weighing the pros and cons about what he was about to reveal to the goblin before deciding the goblin didn't seem to have any liking for Dumbledore, "Dumbledore had me placed with my mother's adoptive sister, who hates magic along with her thug of a husband. He wanted to use them to beat me down so I would see Dumbledore as a hero and a mentor, all the time I would be groomed to sacrifice my own life to take Voldemort out."

The goblin shook his head, amazed by the strategy of the wizards and not in a good way.

"You don't seem to like wizards much," Harry commented.

"We don't. Many of them look down on us, and many of them have hunted and hounded my people down in the centuries past, but they quickly realised their mistake when we began hunting them down more viciously than they had with us. It was as though they had ignored or forgotten the fact we are sentient and are capable of thinking strategically. But what made it insane was their belief in blood purity made them feel they were immune to our justice. They quickly discovered they were wrong when we devised excruciating methods of killing them," the goblin smirked, and Harry couldn't help but compare the smile to that of a hungry shark, and he decided there and then not to cross the goblins, "but the ridiculous thing is while wizards and witches are incapable of just leaving the muggles alone as we can, they expend great resources in hiding themselves when their original hobbies of hunting muggles and causing them problems led to so many witches and wizards dying. This is another example of wizard stupidity."

"I'm starting to wonder if being a wizard is a good thing or not, after hearing all that," Harry said after a moment, wondering if being a human wizard meant his brain would begin to rot soon enough. "But is there a way of getting rid of the Horcrux in my scar?"

The goblin nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Yes, there is. It's a simple ritual, however, it will take a few days to set it up."

Harry only just masked his disappointment, but he still sat there in his chair while he thought about what he had just been told. The time for the ritual to take place was all wrong, but he was relieved that the Horcrux could be removed. However, he was still at a loss about what he should be doing about the Dursleys, Voldemort, and Dumbledore and his little band. He was tempted to kill the lot of them, including the Dursleys for what they'd done.

But another part of him questioned whether or not it was even worth it. They weren't his relatives, they were just a bigoted bunch who got power over beating him. Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix were definitely people whom he would truly like to see pay the price, and so was Voldemort, but the Dursleys weren't even in the big league as far as they were concerned. But he needed to get away from them, regardless of whether or not Dumbledore discovered it or not. The old wizard despite some of his questionable choices was far from stupid; he had known about and had encouraged the abuse; he knew there was a chance his little martyr to be would try to escape. He had taken steps to prevent it, and they had worked so far. Now he would need to find a way to get out of that house. When he was on the streets, he could find other burglars and thieves, specialists in different fields and learn from them, make it big before he attended Hogwarts.

But he would need to get away from Little Whinging. It was a limited place, and while there were dozens of houses and shops available, Harry wanted to broaden his horizons. He wanted and needed to learn new skills in order to develop his own repertoire and broaden it out. He couldn't do that in Little Whinging. However, as he sat there in his chair, Harry realised he had only two ways around this problem.

First, he either killed the Dursleys and went on his way. Secondly, he just left without saying a word. With both options, he would go into London and move on with his burglaries, and with some luck, he could even meet other burglars who'd teach him new tricks. Also, he might also be able to join burglary gangs or just the one, make new contacts, develop new skills, and combine those skills with his own magical ability.

"Mr Potter? Mr Potter, are you alright?" The goblin asked.

Harry looked at the goblin account manager for a moment, surprised; then he realised that he must have been silent for some time. "I was just thinking through my options," he confessed, noting the goblin account manager giving him a probing look before he smirked that shark-like grin.

"You mean you are unsure if you should murder the Dursley family?" The goblin let out a harsh laugh when Harry gaped at him in surprise. "Don't look surprised; wizards have the power to look into people's minds if they're undefended, why should they be the only ones capable of looking into others' minds? We don't do it often, we just do it to make sure nobody is lying to us."

"Then why did you need to perform that blood test when the teller out there could have read my mind and saw I was telling the truth?" Harry asked, holding back his worries.

The goblin held out his hands. "The teller did, but wizards know of a mental art known as occlumency; a particularly strong occlumens can prevent anyone reading their mind, but in your case when you were brought to me, I wanted to see if you were telling the truth."

Harry wasn't sure about that, but he knew now his mind was vulnerable. He would need to research this occlumency as soon as he could, and be ready for any attempt to read his mind.

The thought of others reading his mind like it was an open book annoyed him, and worried him at the same time.

Ever since he had found out he could hypnotise people, Harry wondered if he was unique. It was…disconcerting to find there were others who could do what he could, only their skill was more refined.

He had every intention of rectifying that issue.

The goblin smiled. He had been the account manager for the Potter family for a long time, and while James Potter had been infuriating - a sure symbol of Charlus & Dorea Potters' age - and not very bright, he could tell for himself Harry Potter was a mix between Charlus, Dorea, and Lily Potter; Charles had been a powerful wizard, but he had been a cunning one as well, more insightful than James had been, who had just seemed content to sit back and let everything in life drift towards him. Dorea, however, was a byproduct of her family, the Blacks. She had been dark, lethal and dangerous. Lily, however, had brought a new dimension to the family.

She had been a muggle-born, but she was vastly intelligent and he had seen she was not happy with many of Dumbledore's policies during the war. He hadn't known her for long, but he had known whenever she discovered something, she would follow it through until she had a good understanding of it. It was obvious her son had inherited that aspect of his mother's nature.

Although he wasn't sure if he should tell the boy that Lily Potter had been a thief herself. Oh, she wasn't a serious one, although she had committed a few acts of pickpocketing as a child; to prove she could do it, and then later she had broken into a house when she was a fourteen and later a fifteen-year-old girl.

Her son was a thief himself, a burglar. The goblin had seen inside his mind, seen that the differences between himself and his mother were very very different. Harry Potter had become a burglar out of necessity, he had been pushed into that life if he hadn't then he would have starved because of those filthy muggle animals. He had started off small, but he had gained an enjoyment for it. Now it was a part of his life.

The goblin could see Harry's inner struggle over what to do about the muggles. "Do you mind if I give you some advice, Mr Potter?" At the boy's nod, the account manager continued. "My people are a warrior race, we do not forgive those who harm us."

"Are you saying I should kill them?" Harry caught on quickly.

The goblin account manager levelled Harry with a truly serious look. "Take it from me, if you leave them unharmed then Dumbledore will almost certainly send you back to them. And there is also something important you need to realise; while the Dursleys are not your blood family, the wards over you did prevent dangerous wizards from capturing and killing you. The Horcrux in your scar needs to be drained and the Dark Lord and his followers need to be drained of their magic now. Horcruxes are abominations of magic, one we must always destroy without fail. That is how urgent this matter is."

Harry had gotten the impression from the goblins they didn't really care much about wizards, but he could tell from the body language of the account manager, he was serious about the Horcrux. "What will happen when the Horcrux is drained and Voldemort and his followers are gone? What will Dumbledore do then, will he try to manipulate me?"

The account manager shrugged. "Answering in reverse, I am not sure; many of Dumbledore's plans hinge on your death fighting the Dark Lord, and so there is the potential chance he will forget his plans now there's no real need. However, Dumbledore is not renowned for backing down, and he also has a quest for personal power and respect. He wants to be famous and he wants to be powerful, and while he got what he wanted, he knows it is not enough. He might decide to manipulate a situation involving you."

"Oh, brilliant," Harry rolled his eyes as he tried to think of a way he could avoid any of the old wizard's plans.

"And for your last question…. The Dark Lord caused a tremendous amount of death and destruction, Mr Potter. The draining of the Horcruxes will wipe them out. For good."

Suddenly Harry thought he had the answer. "You want them gone for practical reasons."

"We do," the account manager nodded in confirmation. "The Horcruxes are an abomination. They must be destroyed."

Something occurred to Harry. "Will you tell the magical world what Voldemort did?"

"Why do you ask?" The goblin asked curiously, however, Harry heard an edge in the goblin account manager's tone. He was on his guard.

"So many witches and wizards losing their magic suddenly? It's going to attract attention. What will the magical world, on the whole, say and do? Will you get involved and tell them what happened, how Voldemort created Horcruxes?" Harry asked curiously. "I don't really care what you say or do, I would just like to have a good idea."

"Ordinarily, we would prefer to keep things silent, Mr Potter. Our history with wizards has been far from amicable; many of them believe we have near-human intelligence," the account manager's expression reminded Harry of the contempt he himself felt for many in Little Whinging, although he could tell it was much more than that, more serious, "however, unfortunately, we have to abide by treaties with the Ministry, even if they see us beneath them. We have to inform them of any witch or wizard who was stupid enough to try anything; we have final authority on the punishment of any of them if they try to commit fraud or commit theft in Gringotts. We don't want the publicity in those cases, however, it is done. Whenever we prosecute someone for fraud or theft, we usually execute them after informing the Ministry. They would then order a story to be published in the Daily Prophet, the most common magical newspaper in Britain; the Ministry also has the newspaper reprint a very long list of those who have crossed us since the treaties which established Gringotts was set up. They believe by doing this, others searching for a means of immortality will be deterred. Unfortunately, it sometimes leads to many wizards who refuse to think through their actions - a consequence of Dumbledore, who has a ridiculous second chance policy at Hogwarts where bullies are not punished which makes the bullies believe they are untouchable - trying to harm us. Maybe the Director and the Royal Council will authorise a statement giving a controlled account of what happened to the Death Eaters when they lose their magic, but they would likely edit it. I'm not sure."

"You're worried the Ministry might cause problems if that does happen?" Harry asked.

"In a way. Horcruxes carry with them a fatal flaw; if they allow immortality, why aren't there undead witches and wizards running around? The truth is wizards never truly think. Even if we tell the wizarding world the hard truth of these abominations, many will just ignore it."

XXX

The door to the Cupboard Under the Stairs opened up slowly with a creak, while Harry poked his head out. He relaxed when he realised no-one was awake, but he was still tense. There were butterflies in his stomach, and he was worried about what would happen. Harry closed his eyes and he stepped out of the Cupboard. After leaning back in and taking out all of his possessions including his haul, Harry went to the kitchen and took out a kitchen knife which was really sharp and large enough to do what he wanted.

Harry held the knife awkwardly as he went upstairs. With each step he took, he heard the sound of Vernon snoring his head off while next to him, Petunia was sleeping as peacefully as she could. It was a mystery to Harry how his 'aunt' was able to sleep through this cacophony. Well, it wouldn't be for much longer.

Harry took a deep breath, and he studied the two sleeping Dursleys while he wondered how he was going to do this. He quickly discounted using the knife to just stab them both in the heart. He didn't know just how much strength he would need to do that, but he guessed it would be more than he could physically muster. Harry decided to just slit their throats, he had no idea if it would be quiet or if the Dursleys would wake up, but it was simpler than just stabbing them both.

He closed his eyes and braced himself before he pressed the razor-sharp edge against Vernon's throat. He hesitated for a moment, unsure about how he should handle murdering another living being… and then he remembered everything this man had done, how he had been paid to abuse him, the time where he'd poured boiling hot water over his legs, all those beatings…. He gritted his teeth together, and using his anger to further drive the knife into the thick, jowly skin, Harry slashed Vernon Dursley's throat.

Vernon choked and gurgled, blood spurting out of the wound and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish struggling to breathe on dry land before he finally died.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He had…. Just murdered someone in cold blood, and as he stared at one of the biggest tormentors in his life, he felt different about himself. After a moment he regained his resolve and he moved over to Petunia….

Harry looked out of the open front door, looking out over the peaceful street, curious about how the neighbours, the police, and mostly the wizards under Dumbledore's command would take the brutal murders which had taken place tonight before he turned away from the sight, leaving the front door open. In the morning the postman, the milkman, or a neighbour would discover the door open and would investigate before they found the dead bodies of Dudley, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He straightened his black coat as he passed the open door to the cupboard. The open door itself would attract some attention, and hopefully, everyone would realise the type of people the Dursleys had been, but otherwise, he didn't really care since he would be a long way from here.

Harry walked into the kitchen, and he picked up his possessions - much of it was the cash he'd gotten from the burglaries, but he'd taken everything - before he walked out of the kitchen door and went to the garden gate. Once he was out of the alleyway, Harry walked hurriedly through the alley to the main street before he walked slowly to the railway station. After he had gone to the automatic ticket machine and selected a single into London, Harry walked to the platform and checked the train time. The Dursleys always went to sleep at around ten o clock, so he had plenty of time for a train to take him into London.

Harry had to wait on the platform for seven minutes before the train appeared. As the brakes screeched bringing the train to a halt, Harry said slowly and clearly before the doors opened. He had been waiting for a long time for this ever since he had discovered the truth from the hypnotised Figg, and he had paid the goblins an extra fee on top of the fee he'd paid for the removal and disposal of the Horcrux in his head, to remove the spells Dumbledore had placed on his body.

The spells which he had used to keep Harry locked up in Number 4 Privet Drive. The compulsion charms which the goblins had identified as the ones which had told him not to leave, and to see the Dursleys as his family and Number 4 as home, the tracking charms the old wizard had used to make sure he was still at Number 4, and which he had used to track him down whenever he had escaped. Harry had decided to have the goblins remove the memory blocks at the same time as the Horcrux procedure, so when he left he would have full recall over everything Dumbledore had done to him.

The goblins had removed them all.

He was now free.

Harry had no idea what Dumbledore would do when he learnt the truth of what happened to his plans with the death of the Dursleys, and Harry was curious about what the ancient wizard would come up with next.

"Number 4 Privet Drive is not my home," Harry whispered quietly.

XXX

Albus Dumbledore woke up as soon as he felt the Blood Wards and the spells connecting Harry Potter to the Dursleys collapse. The old wizard had connected the status of the wards to his own person, so he was aware of anything which went wrong. Dumbledore had originally been content with the wards being connected to the dozen puffing instruments visitors found in his office. No-one knew what they were, believing they were just inventions or gimmicks of Dumbledore's own design.

Dumbledore let them have their beliefs, he knew if they ever discovered what he had done to the boy then there would be a lot of trouble and while he had a lot of political clout there were many who would like to see him disappear. However, as time had passed and he had been called away to attend ICW meetings and conferences, he had returned only to discover Potter had escaped the Dursleys. Deep down Dumbledore was impressed by Harry's attitude of trying again and again to succeed, but he couldn't have it.

The boy needed to remain at Number 4 for the plan to work. He needed to be abused so he would arrive malleable, meek, and willing to do whatever Dumbledore told him rather than arrive spoilt, wilful, and too strong to listen, and therefore would not be the willing, unthinking martyr who would weaken Voldemort enough to allow Dumbledore to kill him and gain even more political power for the Great Good of the magical world.

After several attempts at this, Dumbledore had finally had enough and he had woven himself into the ward scheme so he would know if something had gone wrong. He hadn't connected himself all the way into the wards, just enough to let him know if something was wrong.

The moment he realised what had happened, he immediately leapt out of bed and ran to the main office so he could check the status. The sight that met his eyes when he reached his office made the fly open in horror.

The instruments had stopped. None of them was puffing anymore. Dumbledore clenched his fists as he examined each of them, his temper growing as he examined each one in turn before he finally exploded. "That little brat has escaped!" He thundered, waking up Fawkes who let out a screech of protest for the sudden noise, but Dumbledore ignored the songbird. "He's collapsed the wards! Now I don't know where he is! My plans have been ruined!"

The Sorting Hat said nothing from his own perch. Somehow he had the feeling all of Dumbledore's plans would unravel, and he wasn't very sympathetic towards the wizard who had proven himself to be more arrogant than most.

XXX

Two days later Harry smiled as he looked around Trafalgar Square while Nelson's column loomed over him while he read a very interesting newspaper article which described the murder of the Dursleys. The article was quite large, considering the content of murder and child abuse. According to the newspaper, the Dursleys had been found dead when a neighbour was getting into his car and noted the open doorway before going in. Five minutes later, he'd run out screaming his head off about murder. The police were investigating the murder, but they didn't have any answers about how the killer had gotten in. Harry didn't believe that he knew the police had a few ideas of their own.

What the police had done was release information about how the Dursleys had had a second child in their home. A child who'd apparently been living the life of a slave, who had been beaten by them more than once. The article went into a lot of detail about the findings there, of the cupboard being used as a bedroom by the child, with old, tatty sheets and blanket long since covered with blood and other things.

Harry noted that there wasn't a great deal of information about the second child, namely himself. However, the paper did name names, so everyone knew the child was called Harry Potter, but beyond that and the fact he was abused by the Dursleys and was now missing while they were dead, the article was a little suggestive as to what happened to the Dursleys.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and threw the newspaper away before he walked into the darkness of the city of London. He felt as if he had just been liberated and a door had just been opened, and he'd walked through and closed it behind him.

He had no idea what the future held, but right now he would return to Gringotts and have the goblins remove the Horcrux, and then he would be truly free. In the meantime, he would learn how to survive in his new world.