Don't own Harry Potter. Just my vaguely twisted ideas of what to do with Harry's life. This is a re-write for The Heir. I can only hope that it can improve to my standards of writing.

Chapter 1

Everyone has nightmares. Some have worse ones than most, others have them more frequently. In the house of Number 4 Privet Drive, one young man has nightmares of events in his short life that contain horrors that most never deal with. That man's name is Harry Potter.

Harry tossed and turned in his tiny bed, dreaming of Sirius falling through the veil. His tense body suddenly relaxed as four bands settled over his fingers and a chain appeared around his neck. His dream was yanked from the dark vision of death and despair to a blissfully blank world. Somewhere many miles away, a pale man screamed in rage.

Five semi-transparent forms shimmered into existence and watched the boy settle into a peaceful slumber. The tallest figure spoke, "He is the One." The other's nodded. A shorter figure spoke next.

"We must take residence in his mind. It is the only way to convey the necessary knowledge" The group nodded and faded from the room.

The five reappeared in Harry's mind. The blank atmosphere in the dream realm disappeared and an angry black sky appeared, lightning and thunder crashing all around the small group. Harry appeared next to the intruders in his mind. He took note of the two very tall men dressed in medieval clothing alongside a pair of relatively tall women wearing gowns. A shorter, grizzled looking old man stood to the side of the group in robes.

"Who are you and are you here?" The two men looked at each other with raised brows while the women looked slightly affronted. The elderly man looked unfazed, almost amused. One of the tall men stepped forward to speak to the perturbed teenager.

"I am Godric Gryffindor. We are the four founders' of Hogwarts." Harry relaxed a fraction and the sky seemed to lighten up.

"Alright, so if you are Gryffindor, then the lovely ladies in blue and yellow beside you are Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff. And the man in green on your other side is Salazar Slytherin. As for the old coot, I'm going to guess he is some else famous." Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff dipped their heads in acknowledgement. Gryffindor nodded his head while Slytherin swept into a deep bow. The older man stepped forward.

"I am Merlin Ambrosius, also known as Myrddin Emrys, Merlin the Wise, Myrddin Wyllt, Merlin the Wild, Merlin Caledonensis, Merlinus, and just plain Merlin." Harry snorted.

"Is that supposed to impress me? The celebrity shock value is lost on me, I happen to be one. Bloody reporters." Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff giggled at the deadpan expression on Harry's face, Merlin chuckled, and the pair of larger men barked with laughter. Harry waved his hand and several large chairs appeared around the adults, a second wave creating a much cushier chair that Harry seated himself upon. The small group sat and they all sat in silence while Harry watched them. After a while of evaluating them silently, Harry had reached the point where he was willing to listen. Merlin was the spokesman for the group.

"Harry, I can see that you are unwilling to listen to us prattle on for hours on end so I'll just get right to the point. You are our Heir. Some of us are your ancestors, but the rest of us have seen fit to make you our spiritual heir." Harry nodded several times as he digested the information. He then locked eyes with Merlin.

"Why are you telling me this? Does this mean that I get a bunch of dusty tomes from a vault or a ton of gold that I have no use for. If so, why invade my mind instead of having the goblins send me a message?" Merlin leaned forward and placed his elbows upon his knees, resting his chin on interlocked hands.

"We could have directed the goblins to send you a letter if that had been our intent. In fact, you will be getting one such letter very soon. However, our presence here is to do more than just give you the knowledge you seek to defeat your enemy. Knowledge is power, but power is useless without the sense of responsibility necessary to use it wisely. We are here to properly teach you how to use magic so that you can defeat that stain on humanity." Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was a surprise. The only other time that someone had offered to teach him something necessary outside of class work was Professor Lupin teaching him the Patronus Charm. The teen's mouth quirked up into a grim smirk.

"Well then. What are we waiting for? Time to get to work." The five adults smiled and nodded, relieved that he was willing to take their lessons.

Ravenclaw was Harry's first teacher, teaching him many Charms and the subtle art of Occulmency. Her teaching style was reminiscent of Professor McGonagall's, strict and fair. She also taught him about music and dancing, giving him the social skills to move within pureblood society.

Harry's next teacher was Hufflepuff. The kindly woman taught Harry Healing and Herbology. She reminded him of Madam Pomphrey, the matron in Hogwarts Hospital Wing. She also gave him lessons in drama and carpentry, saying that a leader needed to be able to act with the best to survive a war and the political aftermath.

Gryffindor taught the young teen swordsmanship, Transfiguration, and Astronomy. His innate talent with Transfiguration was apparent after a couple of lessons, as was his skill with a blade. Astronomy was merely a relaxation, a chance to unwind and not think about the many problems that he needed to address. He also taught Harry how to become invisible in a crowd and how to duck a tail. Gryffindor reminded him a lot of Sirius, cheerful and a joker.

Slytherin was his teacher in Legilimency, Potions, and hand-to-hand fighting. He also showed Harry how to track an opponent and how to set up a trap. He was much more like Professor Lupin, reserved and kind, but with a mischievous streak. He taught the reasons behind each ingredient in the Potions that they made. He was patient, no matter how many things Harry got wrong. Harry was much better at Legilimency than he initially was at Occulmency. His tracking skills were decent enough, but he could set and escape traps with the greatest of ease.

All of the Founders told Harry stories of their pasts, the mistakes and the successes. He was told the unvarnished truth about war and death, preparing him for the horrors that would await him once he came back to the real world.

Merlin was the most unusual of Harry's teachers. His personality always seemed odd to Harry. He couldn't really associate the old man with anyone he knew previously. He expected the old mage to be like Dumbledore, mysterious and full of empty words. However, the old man never used more words than necessary to convey a concept. As a teacher, Harry couldn't ask for more. Merlin would never just instruct Harry in the use of his magic, he would teach him the proper ways to use the awesome powers that he had been granted. Most importantly, Merlin taught Harry how to think for himself and how to be confident. He taught the young man about politics, speaking, writing, and many other important parts of the political and academic arenas.

While this was happening in Harry's mind, his body was changing in the outside world. As time passed and Harry ate better in his mind, aided by the nutrition potions that Salazar and Helga made him, his body grew and became stronger. After almost two years of training under the four Founders, it was finally time for him to rejoin the real world. It was time for Harry to wake up.

The young teen sat up in his small bed, his hand coming up to grasp a large silver ring that sat on his neck. He smiled at the memory of the founders and Merlin, teaching him what they knew. The rings on his fingers and the one on the chain were the only things left of the five great sorcerers who had taken a broken down teenager and shaped him into a man ready to stand eye to eye with destiny. Harry laid back down, still holding the ring, smiling from the onslaught of memories from his training. He resolved, just before he dropped off into a dreamless sleep, to make them all proud of him, proud of the Heir that they had trained.

Please Read and Review! As I said, this is a re-write on my story from many years ago, so hopefully it has improved in quality. Constructive criticism is always welcome.