Hey Guys! I'm super excited to finally unveil my little secret project.

I've had the outline for this story locked away on a thumb drive and I finally decided to do something with it.

This will be a Harry/Harem NO SLASH story. Given that some of you may have read Heir of Hades, I hope you'll give me another chance, (yes I know HoH is horrible). I will update when time permits, and in addition to this story, I will be re-writing Heir of Hades. So my time will be stretched thin.

I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter,

Lord Andros.

Privet Drive was every bit your normal looking suburban neighborhood; well-kept lawns, nice cars in every drive, even a crazy cat lady. But, though to an outside observer things appeared perfectly normal, the truth was far from it. Many of the residents of the street had come to fear the "Devil Child" of number four.

Nobody knew what it was about Harry Potter, but everyone agreed that something was "off" about him. He was the best in his school when it came to his studies and he spent large amounts of time at the library, which while unusual for a boy his age, wasn't what scared people. A large part of it was he was when he would watch those around him. His stare made people feel uneasy, almost like he was seeing straight into their soul. The other part was his appearance.

Looking at the thin boy scribbling into a book one could easily understand why he was considered "weird." To begin with; the boy's hair was down to his mid back, jet black, and looked like silk. Currently it was being held back in a ponytail save for a few strands that hung to either side of his face. The boy's eyes were outlined with jet black eyeliner that seemed to amplify their emerald-green color.

He wore the same outfit every day and his choice of clothing certainly didn't do anything to help him appear "normal." He wore a jet black button-less dress shirt that was tucked into his skin-tight black pants, which appeared to be made of leather. He wore a tight belt around his waist as well as five around his mid-riff, one on each thigh, and one on each of his upper arms. Each belt was shortened according to where it was on his body, with the arms having the shortest. On top of this outfit he wore a black leather trench-coat and for shoes he wore jet black boots with a pointed toe and slight heel. The only article of clothing he was wearing that wasn't black were his stark white gloves, which no-one had ever seen him without. All in all, the boy screamed goth and/or emo, but he didn't care. If anyone was ever dumb enough to comment on his attire he'd stare them down.

At the moment Harry Potter was standing behind a weathered bench and it was clear that he was waiting on someone. He smirked when he noticed a figure coming towards him. Reaching into his coat and pulling out a silver pocket-watch he laughed to himself. 'Right on time.' As soon as the newcomer was within earshot Harry returned to his seat upon the old park bench.

"Afternoon Steven, I trust you have what I asked for?" A boy roughly the same age as Harry nodded before holding out a small parcel wrapped in paper. Taking the package Harry removed the paper before examining the small book. It wasn't much, just a book on Egyptian mythology, but, to Harry it was important that everything went smoothly, he detested error.

"You did well Steven. Consider your debt to me paid in full." The slightly nervous boy nodded before running back the way he came as fast as his legs would carry him. He knew that he was one of the lucky ones, many people who crossed the strange gothic child ended up getting hurt in strange accidents, so he wasn't about to push his luck.

Harry flipped through the book before nodding to himself and placing it inside of his coat pocket and heading off towards number four. As he walked he found himself slipping into old memories.

FLASHBACK

A young boy lay curled in a ball in the corner of a dark cupboard. The boy's face was stained with tears, and his overly large ragged clothes were stained with blood. Most people would be angered at the sight of a young boy in such a state on his fifth birthday, but to the occupants of number four Privet Drive, it was what the "freak" deserved.

Harry Potter silently wept as he cradled his broken arm. Suddenly the pain was lessening and being replaced with a warmth, a warmth that promised relief. Maybe it was the loss of blood, or the concussion, but Harry felt as if he could do anything when surrounded by that warmth, and so he made a simple wish.

"What did I do to deserve this? All I want is to be treated fairly by the people who are meant to be my family." Now to most people this wouldn't constitute a wish, but, it was. So the warmth within the boy began to shift and morph the minds of his "relatives," until they had no recollection of what made the boy "freakish." All they knew was so long as he was treated fairly, they'd be allowed to live. So it was the next day, that Harry Potter's life changed, and he began to explore his newly discovered abilities.

FLASHBACK END

Looking back on it Harry smiled. His life had improved so much since the days of the cupboard. He'd gained a backbone and put it to good use. Every kid on the street, whether older or younger than Harry himself knew one thing, that his word was law. Harry noticed that he had arrived home and gave a small sigh, his uncle's sister was coming for a visit soon.

Though Marge was never mean to Harry, as dictated by his wish for his "family" to treat him with respect, she wasn't his favorite person. She generally brought along one or more smelly (in Harry's opinion) bulldogs, she had an annoying tendency to badmouth anything, and everything, and she always smelled like sour laundry. However, if she was kept out of the liquor cabinet, she was actually rather enjoyable company in spite of her negative traits. She had a love of traveling and she always brought interesting trinkets and stories from her travels to share with everyone.

Shaking his head slightly Harry walked into the living area of number four and sank into his favorite chair. Crossing his ankles the young man stretched before closing his eyes and sighing in contentment.

A slight clinking of china caused him to open his eyes and he nodded in thanks as he took the cup of tea his aunt was holding out to him. Walking to the kitchen to grab her own cup Petunia Dursley took her usual seat before glancing at the clock.

"You look tired." Harry nodded before taking a sip of his tea.

"Not really tired, just sore. Those old park benches could use replacing." A small nod was the only indication that she agreed with him, but it didn't really matter one way or another to him. The two made small talk while finishing their tea before Harry stood, adjusted his coat, and headed into his room. Throwing himself down onto his bed he pulled out a small book and pen and started working on a few ideas.

TIME-SKIP

It had been a week since the day when Harry had called in Steven's debt. Frankly he let the fool off easy, all he had to do was steal a special edition of Egyptology: An Advanced Guide from the local antique book shop. He'd also made sure that Steven had a memory of stealing the book, and setting fire to it. In addition to planting that memory, he'd attached a pre-programmed aura to the boy so that the shopkeeper remembered having two copies and selling one to Harry.

Now though, Harry found himself rather bored. It was August the first and he was in his usual attire, sitting in his favorite chair, reading a book that Marge had given him. Actually one of five she'd given him. He closed it before running his hand over the lettering. A Complete Guide to Italian: Book One. The woman had been visiting Venice. Noticing his cousin walking by Harry spoke up.

"Dudley, put this away for me, would you?" Though it was phrased as a question Dudley Dursley knew better, it was an order. Taking the book he started off towards Harry's library which also had a tiny bed crammed in one corner alongside a wardrobe and desk. As he came back downstairs the doorbell rang. Peeking out the window the boy chose not to answer it. Then the bell rang again and a cold voice hissed at him.

"Answer the bloody door." Though it was low and barely audible Dudley heard loud and clear and so, taking a deep breath he pulled the door open to reveal a stern looking woman wearing green robes.

"Is Harry Potter at home?" The voice she used was thick with a Scottish accent and her gaze made the boy squirm.

"That depends on who you are, and what you want with him." The woman's eyes narrowed and if possible she looked even more menacing.

"I am Professer Minerva McGonagall and I wish to speak with him and extend him an invitation to attend the school where I teach." Dudley eyed the woman for a second before he gave a small nod.

"Wait here." With that he closed the door softly leaving the woman to scowl at the door coldly. The door opened again after a few moments and the boy nodded before ushering her inside.

"Through that door there." Pointing to said door the boy turned and entered another room where he joined his mother and father.

Walking through the doorway Minerva found herself stopping mid-step and eyeing the boy before her. From his hair, to his boots he looked nothing like she'd expected. His cold emerald eyes fixed her with a calculating glance before he laced his gloved fingers in his lap and nodded towards the sofa.

"Sit." The cold hissing voice unnerved her and so she did as he said before smoothing her robes and attempting to compose herself.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?" The boy nodded slowly before he leaned back into his antique leather chair.

"Yes, and you are the one who introduced herself as Minerva McGonagall. I must congratulate you, very few, other than myself have that effect on my cousin. Though, you're not here for pleasantries so I'd appreciate if you cut to the chase." The ice in his voice reminded Minerva of a man that she'd rather forget.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I'm here to extend you an invitation to Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards, such as yourself." The boy showed no emotion other than to let his mouth curl into a sneer.

"Hmm, and so, when I agree to accept this "invitation" of yours, you take me away in a straight-jacket and lock me up? Who put you up to this? Tell me so that I know who has to suffer." His eyes were glowing at this point and Minerva longed to grab her wand, but instead she wrung her hands and took a steadying breath.

"No Harry, Hogwarts isn't a place for mad people, Hogwarts is a school. A school of magic." The boy's expression remained blank save his eyes which were burning with power.

"You can do things can't you Harry? Things other children can't..." At this a small smile formed on the young man's face before he spoke.

"I can make things move without touching them, I can make animals do what I want without training them, and I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt, if I want. Now, who are you?" By this point Minerva was terrified of the youth before her but she did her best not to show it, instead she took another steadying breath before speaking. She braced herself as she chose to skip over the question.

"Yes Harry, that is magic, at Hogwarts we shall teach you not only to use it, but how to control it. Here, this letter will explain a few more things including how to obtain your school supplies. I must be leaving now Harry, I will see you September the first." Handing the boy a parchment envelope Minerva moved to leave before she was stopped yet again.

"I can speak to snakes to, they find me, they whisper things, is that normal for someone like me?" Minerva felt her heart grow icy before she managed to choke out a response.

"It is rare, but not unheard of." With that she raced out of the house before dissapparating back to Hogwarts and bolting towards the headmaster's office.

HOGWARTS HEADMASTER'S OFFICE

"Fawkes, would you mind finding somewhere else to sit?" Albus Dumbledore (Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Grand Sorcerer, defeater of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald, Order of Merlin first class and Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry) was currently sifting through papers in an effort to prepare for the upcoming school year. Well actually he was currently trying to get his Phoenix familiar to vacate his desk so he could have a little more room to work. As Fawkes flew back over the the golden perch Albus smiled when the wards pinged, informing him that his long time friend Minerva McGonagall was outside his door.

"Albus, we need to talk." Minerva had barely cleared the threshold before she was speaking, and her appearance made Albus pale. He'd never seen his friend so shaken.

"What has you so flustered Minerva? I've known you for years and you've never been quite so distraught." Though Albus was using his patented grandfather voice and demeanor his eyes betrayed his worry. "You went to visit young Harry I believe?" At her nod he gave a comforting smile. "Is everything ok with the boy?"

"Perhaps you'd better get your pensieve and judge for yourself." Frowning slightly Albus walked over to a cabinet and extracted a shallow stone bowl which he set down on the desk. Pulling out her wand Minerva extracted a silvery memory strand from her temple before tossing it in the pensieve. Taking a deep breath Albus plunged his head into the bowl and emerged a few minutes later visibly shaking.

"I feel almost as if I just watched my own memory. That meeting was almost identical to a meeting I had with a young Tom Riddle, a little over fifty years ago. Minerva, please inform Severus I wish to see him. Then I'd suggest you take a calming draught, or three." With a small nod the shaken woman exited the room, leaving a weary Albus Dumbledore to slump in his seat.

"I'm scared Fawkes, not even Riddle was that bad. Have I set forth a chain of events that will lead to yet another Dark Lord?" The Phoenix landed on the headmaster's arm before giving a reassuring squawk. Patting the bird's head Albus smiled when the majestic beast flew back to the gold perch before the wards informed him that Severus Snape was waiting outside his office. Giving the all-clear to the wards Albus smiled when he saw the black haired man sweep into his office.

"You wished to see me sir?" The emotionless mask worn by the black robed man was impressive, but to Albus, who'd known him for years, it was a simply task to read.

"Yes my boy, I want you to examine a few memories, I've already prepared one memory, allow me to add the second, then you may view them." Pulling out a small vial the white haired man poured the silver memory into the bowl, waved his wand over it, and then indicated for Severus to go ahead. With a deep breath Severus plunged his head into the pensieve and emerged a few minutes later looking like he'd just seen the Reaper coming for him.

"The first memory was of the Dark Lord as a child, and the second was of Potter?" At Albus's nod the man groaned as he dropped into a chair. He'd been planning to break down the spawn of his arch-rival all summer, and instead he was faced with the possible occurance of yet another Dark Lord.

"Yes Severus, and I shudder to think what will happen if Mr. Potter starts down the path of no return. I visited the boy when he was a baby, and, what I'm about to tell you must never leave this room Severus." Albus watched closely until the man gave a small nod.

"As I said, I visited the Potters when Harry was a little over eight months old, and his magical aura was nearly as strong as my own. When I shared my finding Lily insisted I bind his power so that he wouldn't hurt himself, or anyone else on accident, but it seems, when Lord Voldemort attacked young Harry, the bindings were weakened and given their strength, would have worn off after about four years." The old man sagged after revealing something that had frankly, scared the hell out of him. Nobody should have that much power so early in life, it would almost definatly lead to the person becoming a terrible monster.

"What do we do? How do we prevent the boy from becoming a monster worse than him?" The venom that accompinied the last word left no doubt as to who the black haired man was speaking of.

"The only thing we can do, we must do our best to help him realize that the "light" is the better path to walk. I'm placing a lot of confidence in you Severus, I'm asking you to try and see the child of Lilly Evans rather than the son of James Potter. If you won't do it for me, do it for her." The two men continued to discuss how they would prevent the fall of one Harry Potter.

TIME SKIP

Harry Potter stood outside a small pub that most other people appeared to pass by without noticing. To Harry the place was an eyesore, it held no mystical charm, no promise of power, and not even a drop of character. He found it hard to believe that such a place could house the gateway to the magical world. Never-the-less, he walked into the dingy place and was instantly assaulted by the smell of alcohol and stale tabacco. Adjusting his right glove he moved towards the bar.

"Excuse me sir, would you very much mind opening the gateway for me?" The bartender looked ready to piss himself at the sight of the gothic looking boy but he quickly hurried out the back and tapped a few bricks before leaving young Harry to slip through the newly opened archway. Glancing around the black haired boy gave an audible sniff as he observed the other children (Gods above, how he hated that word) running amock and dragging their parents with them. Adjusting a few of his belts the raven haired boy strode off towards a giant marble building with the word GRINGOTTS emblazoned above the door.

Walking into the large hall Harry smiled as he approached the counter at the far end. Noticing the creature scribbling in a large book, the young man simply leaned against the counter and waited. After about six minutes the creature finally stopped writing and looked up.

"Can I help you, Jareth?" Harry kept his face blank but inwardly was grinning at the reference. Adjusting one of his gloves he bowed his head respectfully.

"Forgive me sir, but I only recently entered the magical world and I'm wondering what form of creature are you?" Keeping his voice steady the youth was surprised when the creature appeared surprised at his demeaner.

"I, and my brethren, are a race of creatures known as goblins. We are entrusted with keeping the wealth of the magical world secure. Now, I need your name so that we can get to business." Harry nodded slowly before he pulled out his Hogwarts letter and slid it towards the creature.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter, please follow me." Hopping off his stool the goblin opened an invisible door that allowed Harry to pass through the counter before he found himself being tugged down a rather dark hallway. To one such as him though, it was very homely. Reaching a massive pair of oak doors the goblin gave a quick rap before pushing through at the raspy Enter that could be heard from the other side.

"What is it Rotgut?" Sitting behind a lavish desk was a goblin who could only be described as wizened. Battle scars adorned his face and his eyes bore the look of one who'd seen too much, as said eyes fixed on the black clad boy he sneered.

"A thousand apologies Director Ragnok, but, you requested to be alerted immediately if Harry Potter entered the bank." The now identified Ragnok stared hard at Harry's forehead searching for something, but before he could comment the youth spoke up.

"If you're looking for the scar, then don't waste your time. I keep it hidden with makeup." The cold emerald eyes of the young wizard met the sharp saphire eyes of the goblin and each seemed to search the other. Finally the goblin nodded once before fixing the other goblin with a hard look.

"Rotgut, fetch Griphook and then return to the counter." As the goblin teller retreated Harry surveyed the office. It was decorated with gold and priceless jewels, but, it wasn't tacky. It was designed in a way so that the precious materials natural beauty was amplified, something that Harry found oddly calming.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Looking towards the voice Harry's eyes narrowed at the smirk playing across the goblin's face. The little creature waved towards a rather comfy looking chair that wasn't there before. Giving a small shrug Harry moved and took the indicated seat before crossing his legs and lacing his gloved fingers.

"Now then Mr. Potter, we have some time before Griphook gets here since he works in the absolute bottom of the bank. So, do you have any questions?" Waiting with an expectant expression the goblin folded his hands in front of him.

"I trust that this Griphook, will be the one to inform me of the contents of my parents will?" At Ragnok's nod Harry's eyes flashed dangerously. "I'm sure you know that I was raised among mundanes, so, would you mind telling me of your people, and perhaps a little about the magical world?" A large grin formed on Ragnok's face as he thought for a moment.

"A little bit of information on goblins? I suppose it would start roughly fifteen-hundred years ago, the first goblin king was at the time named Lord Gringot, and yes, the bank is named for him. Anyways, at this time the non-magicals or muggles, were dead set on exterminating the goblin race, until one man stepped in and defended us. This man's name was Alexander Slytherin, great grandfather of Salazar Slytherin, who, was one of the four founders of Hogwarts. In an act of thanks, Lord Gringot stepped down from his throne and formed the Goblin High Council, he and the council then made a blood oath to Alexander, if his true descendant should ever demand it, the goblin nation would once again have a monarch, a human monarch. To this day, the true heir of Slytherin has yet to be found." Ragnok leaned back in his chair and watched the youth in front of him with ill-concealed interest.

"Hmm, you said the true heir has never been found, but I'm guessing that an heir has?" The goblin chuckled darkly before he waved his hand towards the door.

"Sorry, we'll continue the history lesson later. Griphook just got here." Waving his hand again Ragnok smirked when he spotted a pair of goblin legs peeking out from under a large stack of books, scrolls, and even a few stone tablets.

"Director, would you mind lending a hand?" With a grin Ragnok waved his hand causing a large table to appear. Waddling towards the newly appeared table the pile of records dropped down revealing a goblin with red eyes. As the second goblins gaze fell upon Harry a small predatory grin formed on his lips.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter I presume?" The goblin's cheerful red eyes met with Harry's cold green orbs and a another, even larger grin worked it's way to the surface.

"You would do well not to spread my name about. I've no desire to be known until the time is right." The cold hissing of the young man's voice sent chills down Griphook's spine, while Ragnok was having a flashback to his warrior days. Nodding quickly Griphook pulled out a small tablet made of granite as well as a rather sharp looking dagger.

"Err, Mr. Potter, if you would please remove your glove, all it takes is a few drops of blood, I need to make sure you are indeed who you say you are." With a low hiss Harry snatched the dagger away before pulling off his left glove. Slicing through his left index finger he allowed a thin line of blood to run onto the blade before he passed the knife back. Flicking his wrist he watched as the cut healed itself before replacing his glove.

"I don't like people telling me what to do." Harry watched with slight fascination as Griphook tapped the knife above the stone tablet allowing five drops of blood to land on it. Instantly the blood vanished and then blood red lines began appearing on the tablet, leaning in closer Harry smirked when he saw the lines morphing into words.

HADRIAN JAMES POTTER

Parents: James Maximus Potter (Father) – Lily Roseline Potter nee Evans (Mother)

Heir to:

The Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter (BLOOD)

The Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverall (BLOOD)

The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black (BLOOD)

Heir to Extinct Bloodlines:

Gryffindor

Hufflepuff

Ravenclaw

Slytherin

Emerys

Le Fay

Drakul

Heir to Multiple Unknown Lines

Blood Abilities Unknown due to Inactive State

"Well Mr. Potter, on behalf of Gringotts I would like to congratulate you on obtaining our eight oldest and wealthiest vaults. Now then, let's examine these records." Ragnok waved his hand towards the large pile of records and all three occupants of the office watched as they vanished and were replaced by ten large books. Waving his hand yet again Ragnok caused the books to soar and land on his desk. Giving a wicked grin to Harry he leaned back in his chair.

"Oldest and wealthiest?" At the goblin's nod Harry's mouth twisted into a dark smirk. "Would I be correct in assuming that these names carry some form of sway within the magical world?" Once again Ragnok nodded causing Harry's smirk to grow even larger. "So, how do I go about staking my claim?" Griphook shuffled the tomes around before he grinned.

"Simply lay your hand upon each tome. If you manage to claim the name then the house rings will appear before you." Grinning as he backed away to give the youth access he watched intently as Harry's hand hovered above a tome with a large eagle holding an axe in each claw. As soon as the gloved hand touched the aged leather cover a bright flash erupted and revealed a small box sitting on the cover's top left corner.

Giving a low growl Harry removed his gloves before tucking them away in his back pocket. As he moved to place the ring on his left pinky both Griphook and Ragnok found themselves slightly disgusted. The flesh of his hands looked as if it had been burned away and regrown multiple times and had a waxy appearance. Glaring at the two creatures when he noticed what they were doing Harry gave a warning hiss before he moved to continue claiming his inheritance.

With the Potter ring upon his finger Harry moved down to a tome with a symbol that looked like a triangular eye. Once he'd placed this ring on his right pinky finger he then proceeded to repeat the process eight more times. After the eye came a wand crossed with a sword, then a lion, badger, and raven. As his hand hovered over an image of a large snake he had a strange feeling come over him, equal parts joy and hatred. When he finally touched the image he growled as he felt his scar burn red hot. Before he placed the next ring on he walked over to a polished sword hanging from the wall and checked to make sure the scar was still hidden.

Once he'd placed the emerald ring on his left pointer finger he moved towards the final three. The first was an image of what appeared to be a large owl in mid flight. Once he'd placed that particular ring on his right pointer finger he felt a rush of power that caused his to sway for a moment. Gritting his teeth he slammed his hand on the image of a falcon before placing the ring on his left thumb. Giving a brief snarl as he swayed yet again from the power influx he moved to an image of a large dragon wrapped around a giant human skull. Placing the final ring on his right thumb he sighed when he felt his power balance out again. Looking back he noticed that all 10 tomes had vanished and in their place rested a single scroll.

Griphook watched as the young man before him sank back into his chair with a sigh before looking at the scroll in front of him with a curious expression. Giving a small grin the goblin hopped up, snatched the scroll, and headed for the door.

"I'll be back in a few." As the door shut behind Griphook the lone human in the room arched an eyebrow. Noticing the raised eyebrow Ragnok explained.

"He's going to fill the scroll with the important information concerning each of your vaults. Those books were the grimoires for their respective families, and while they can be summoned by you at any time, the records must be retrieved manually." Ragnok shifted slightly in his chair as he watched Harry mentally chew over the information.

"I believe you promised to finish the history lesson?" The goblin let out a low chuckle before he leaned forward in his chair.

"You asked about the heir business concerning house Slytherin? A little over fifty years ago, a young man by the name of Thomas Riddle was born. He was NOT an heir at all! He was merely a descendant from the bastard line of Salazar's youngest son." Here Ragnok paused before opening a drawer and pulling out a bowl of caramel colored candies. Taking one for himself and then offering Harry one, he continued.

"Anyways, I'll get to that in a minute, first, let me explain why the line was considered a bastard line. Salazar, and Godric Gryffindor were the closest friends anyone had ever seen. They used to joke about being brothers born to differrent parents. Sorry, getting off track, like I was saying Godric and Salazar were the best of friends, and then, they're children were as well. Salazar married Rowena Ravenclaw, and Godric settled down with Helga Hufflepuff." Ragnok paused to give Harry a chance to ask the question burning in his eyes.

"If their children followed in their footsteps, then what led to the youngest being cast out from house Slytherin?" Harry rolled his tounge over his candy as he watched the goblin in front of him give a small chuckle.

"How right you are, perhaps I should've said, that their first children followed in their footsteps. The second born of Salazar developed a hatred of muggles, though nobody knows exactly why, I'd guess that it had something to do with a romance gone bad. Salazar wasn't pleased when Aristodemos Slytherin decided to go on a crusade to finish off all muggleborn witches and wizards. So, in order to ensure that the fool would never darken the names of either Slytherin, or Ravenclaw, his parents declared him a bastard, not in the sense of he was born out of wed-lock, but in the sense that he had bastardized their name with his beliefs. After casting him out Salazar placed the name of Gaunt upon him, and then cursed the line to an eternity of poverty and suffering." Here Ragnok paused to take a sip of a bright blue beverage that had appeared on his desk. Waving his hand a similar drink appeared in front of Harry only, minus the pink smoke. After taking a sip of his drink Harry motioned for Ragnok to continue.

"So now we have this moron Aristodemos Gaunt, and he is the epitomy of pig-headedness. He decides that he will start his own line of "proper" witches and wizards. So he finds a pureblood witch who was, sort of a dirty secret among her family since she was born because of a wife's infedelity, needless to say her mother was executed the second she finished giving birth. Now, we've got two pig-heads, Aristodemos and Medea Gaunt. They then proceed to birth a line which, to this day, is still the worst case of inbreeding in the entire wizarding world. The last of this line was a powerless witch by the name of Merope Gaunt. She fell in love with a muggle and birthed a young man by the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was indeed a descendant, but not the heir of Slytherin, since, his line had been cast from Slytherin's family. Though he was related, he wasn't eligable to be the heir." Here Ragnok stopped to finish his drink before he leaned back in his chair with a small sigh.

"I'll tell you more about the goblins in a bit. Griphook's waiting outside the door."

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Next one will be up soon as I finish it. I'm begging you guys for suggestions, I want this story to have ideas from my readers, I'm wanting you guys to be an active part of the writing process, if you guys wanna write Omakes, I will be posting the best ones up. Simply email your entry to me at jedisage04192011 and I'll take a look. Obviously, I'm not expecting any yet, since very little has happened.

Thanks for Reading! R&R

Andros