Parseltongue/non human speech

Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text

Daily Prophet

"There have been reports of a strange, previously unnamed dark creature roaming across the Northern edge of Great Britain." The animated photo of Rita smiled here, unable to restrain her love for a juicy story, before pulling Nymphadora Tonks into the picture. "Our exclusive eyewitness and the only person to survive a direct encounter with this creature, Nymphadora Tonks, gave the following completely exclusive, unedited interview mere hours ago." Rita nudged Tonks and the auror started her story.

"It all started with me getting stuck with Azkaban guard duty instead of my usual patrol, policing and paperwork. It was all because I was coerced into joining a vigilante group, that...well, that's another story. Anyway, I was about to go down to the prison personnel area to apparate out, since we only get five minutes when the wards allow it, when I heard an odd scream. It was kind of far away, but it sounded roughly like 'Oh Shit!' which never means anything good there." Tonks barely got the last word out, before Rita interjected.

"Yes dear. Go on please." Rita patted Tonks on the back in what looked like a somewhat comforting manner, but Tonks shrugged the hand off. Shooting a look of pure dislike, she continued.

"Of course I ran straight over there, assuming a dementor had cornered another guard or something. Instead I found Potter being assaulted by a dementor...or maybe him assaulting it with dark magic." Rita nodded, imploring her to go on.

"The moment I realized there was a dementor in the cell, I cast a patronus and sent a messenger spell for another guard to come assist me. While I was casting the second spell, I heard a hissing sound and looked back at the cell..." Tonks stumbled here and tried to rephrase her verbal blunder, but the damage was done.

"You were looking away from the cell?" Rita leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially. "Why would you need to look away? Perhaps you couldn't bear to see your lost love under those circumstances. Do you still have a romantic attachment to The-Boy-Who-Betrayed?" Tonks looked up in horror at Rita, before she skewed up her face in concentration. Rita appeared taken back and started to ask what was wrong, when Tonks, her body stretching into the form of a burly man, lunged from her seat.

The picture froze for a second, before a seething, but female Tonks and Rita, who looked noticeably rattled reappeared. Eying the metamorphagus wearily, Rita continued with the interview.

"So you heard a hissing sound and re-focused on the cell? What happened?" Tonks took a few seconds to collect her wits, before she proceeded.

"The dementor had turned around and was approaching me, but something was wrong about that. Dementors always flee from a patronus, even when they already have their victim pinned. This one came straight for me and my patronus was nowhere in sight. Thinking quickly, I summoned another one, but instead of chasing the dementor away, they both stopped in their tracks."

"I'm sure you must have been terrified." Rita lifted her purse onto her lap, ready to whip out tissues, but it was, once again, an annoyingly unnecessary gesture.

"The dementor then started to glide towards me, until it was right in front of Snuffles and..." Rita stopped Tonks again.

"I'm sorry to stop you, but Snuffles? You named your patronus...after what or who, might I ask? What is your patronus' form?" Tonks stared coldly at the woman and continued, ignoring the question completely.

"It glided right up to Snuffles, bent down and reached out, almost like it was going to pet him. I was so shocked, I barely registered that another creature had ripped straight through the warded magical bars and rushed out of the cell, until I saw its tail disappear around a corner. And then it left and that's it."

"I'm sorry, my dear?" The lame ending almost seemed to throw Rita off balance as she fished for more.

"The dementor had some kind of fit and then glided away, following the first creature and a few seconds later, the other on duty guards reached me. One of them asked what had happened, so I gave my report when we noticed Potter wasn't in his cell anymore. I later filed a formal report and the Minister, along with all of my superiors, were all immediately notified."

"Hmm. Is it possible that Potter has used his mastery of dark magic to create a new dark creature? Or, maybe he could have transformed himself into a dark creature and left while you were distracted by the cursed dementor." Tonks started to respond, but Rita continued, gaining steam. "Do you think it's possible that he has restarted his efforts at replacing or resurrecting his dark master?"

"I'm not at liberty to say right now. The only reason I was allowed to even give this interview was because the Minister thought that the public needed to know."

Rita nodded, before rising and carefully placing her purse on the chair. "Well, thank you for your time." She offered her hand to Tonks, who responded with a single finger salute, before the picture restarted its story.

Harry slowly awoke, eyes locked upon a familiar ceiling. For a few seconds, he let his eyes roam the ceiling above him, taking in every crack before he realized that he already knew where every one of them was already. Shocked, he took a few seconds to process that information before he figured out where he was.

"What the hell am I doing at the Dursleys house?" Feeling queasy, he forced himself to sit up, the wood under him already creaking under his weight. "Why am I on the floor?" He waited a second for an answer to come to him, but he thought of nothing. Wearily reaching to correct his glasses, mostly due to habit, his hands went straight to his face. He wasn't wearing them.

"What the hell's going on?" Forcing his complaining muscles under his will and ignoring hunger pains stronger than any he had experienced since his childhood, Harry stood and glanced around his room. It was empty. Hedwig's cage, his truck, his bed: they were all gone.

"Oh. That can't be good."

"Do you think I care how much of your money you will have to spend to retrieve these artifacts? That it matters how dangerous it will be to look for them? Perhaps you think I do not know. That I need to you spoon-feed me information." Lucius cringed and bowed deeply, whispering several hushed apologies. Narcissa wisely forced Draco to imitate their head of house, the two of them prostrated behind Lucius as he tried to worm his way out of his responsibilities to Voldemort.

"My lord, I would never insult your intelligence as such. I failed to word what I meant correctly! If I could correct myself, I wanted to say …" An amused smile twisted itself onto his demi-human lord's unnatural features. With skill begat only by years of practice, he intricately weaved magic around the family, intoxicating them with his power.

"It seems that my lenience is undeserved." He abruptly stopped the ritualistic drugging, forcing sudden, soul searing withdrawal. "Do you believe it necessary for your lord to explain himself to you?" His magic danced enticingly around them, tingling just within their senses. Like a child harshly scolded, they could only hope to please him in whatever they did next.

"I …" Finally, he struck out at them, a phantasmal touch squeezing at the outer reaches of their souls. Draco actually whimpered slightly, unused to the unique treatment and Voldemort smiled. He was once a master of the technique, but now he could barely coerce a room full of people with it, without them remembering it. Once someone knew that he was actively doing something to them, it seemed to lose some its strength.

"Be weary. Your lord is a kind one; I will forgive this one discrepancy in your record of otherwise…acceptable service. Do not disappoint me again. Do so and nothing; not your blood, your wealth or your sacrifices will grant you my mercy. You have three days to retrieve the first artifact." They unconsciously huddled together slightly, unable to help themselves. They HAD to obey him, or…they might disappoint him. It was something they understood only that moment, before the thought settled deep in their mind, etching itself into their unconscious mind and then fading from their thoughts. It would stay with them for weeks, hopefully until they completed their task. "Be gone."

With a harsh crack, not unlike a dead tree splitting in half, they disappeared, Lucius and Narcissa both duel apparating their son to ease the strain on their spouse. Voldemort took a moment to remember his peak of strength fondly, as he willed away a puddle of their fear soiling his throne room's floor.

"Bellatrix." The husk of a woman, appeared beside him, a smile engraved onto her face by her addiction to his power. She was his most loyal, his most powerful, but she had lost her true beauty to his magic long before Azkaban robbed her of her sanity. Still, she was beyond doubt, loyal and that was far more important than sanity right now. "Follow them. Learn what you can and return to me, unseen by all." As a rare privilege, he stroked her cheek, magical gratification sewn to his touch. The feeling of love she projected in return was almost nauseating. "Go, my pet." With a shudder, she popped away quietly, already changing to her animagi form.

Now the only human remaining in the manor, Voldemort spared himself the effort of maintaining the illusions layered upon him. With nary a gesture, they all fell dormant at once, leaving a still young Tom Riddle in the place of the serpent inspired man.

"Master? Master change?" Nagini, stirred by the active magic around her, slithered out from under his chair. "Master taste like before long wait."

"Yes. I have changed my pet. I can feel long lost fragments of my soul returning to me. The rituals I completed are returning me to my prime. Soon we will be slithering on hunts together again." Nagini slid up his leg, into his robes and coiled part of herself around his waist, the lower half of her length wrapping around his leg down to his black, efficient shoes.

"Master warm again." Amused, Voldemort ignored the habitual praise for his warmth, his mind straying to topics that were actually important.

"Have your young discovered anything about the dark creature? Are there more? What abilities does it possess?" Nagini hissed more praise, before drifting into a quiet sleep. "Useless. I almost miss sharing your body." Nearly black, green eyes brightened to a blood chilling red as he reapplied every one of his illusions in one swift move. Standing suddenly, most of Nagini fell to the smooth floor and after a few seconds, the rest of her followed.

"Now AWAKE!" Nagini stirred, immediately looking up to her master. "We have a new prey to hunt." She hissed up to him, pleased.

The Dursley household house was empty. Harry scoured the two-story home, searching for the usual signs of the physically deformed family of three, only to find a small layer of dust over the floor and small, pattern-less figures scratched into the walls. That is, of course, excluding the back door, which some unknown force had demolished. Seeing as there were no other signs of entry and he never had a key, Harry deduced he entered through it and stopped to rest for the day.

"I'm all alone." Most teens his age would be appalled if their family actually abandoned them, but he had been preparing for it for years. "They took my stuff with them though, those bastards." For as long as he could remember, Harry had wished either he or the Dursleys would simply disappear one day; this was simply a dream come true, with a crappy situation attached to balance it out.

'They must have moved while I was in Azkaban." After thinking about it for a few seconds, he dismissed it as impossible. He couldn't escape Azkaban without something or someone helping him and so far, there were no signs of that. It only took a little longer for him to remember Voldemort's manipulation just a few months before. "That was only one of Voldemort's visions. Just a dream. The Dursleys probably left before I got back from school..." It didn't explain why he woke up in his room, instead of an inn or the Weasley's place, but it was good enough for the time being.

After about five minutes, which was a guess as best since he had no watch and the Dursleys left no clocks behind, he took some initiative and formulated a mental list of what he needed to do:

1) Get some money from Gringotts.

2) Find a hotel or rent a place away from the public eye.

3) Get school supplies.

4) Find Hedwig.

5) Get a wand.

At five, he stopped himself. "I don't need a new wand…the Dursleys wouldn't touch one, even to burn it and I always have it on me." Checking over himself, he found no pockets. The outfit, a grey jumpsuit and black cloak from what he could see, left no place to tuck a wand away, excluding his waistband. "Crap."

A solution jumped at him. "Ok. I just need to go to Diagon ally and contact Dumbledore from there." Something drove him away from the idea, even as a small fragment of him begged him to compete that plan. He had no reason not to do it, did he? "I'll figure that out later."

Combing over the house one last time, Harry resigned himself to his fate and walked out of the now useless home. Automatically throwing his hand up, he stopped himself from completing the gesture. "Damn it! No wand…" He didn't get to think more about the subject, as the Knight bus, in all its purple glory, screeched to a stop inches from his face. As he took a step to the side, to the opening doors, he realized that it was, in fact getting dark. Trivial, but he could not help but feel like it was still somehow important.

As the door opened a short, attractive and bored looking female conductor moved to greet him. Though he could tell she was gorgeous and sixteen, if not older, her good looks were poisoned by her distinct familiarity and frumpish glare. "Welcome to the Night bus. My name is Alex Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for the evening. A ride to your destination is eleven sickles. For fifteen, you get a toothbrush, a water bottle and hot chocolate." Harry reached for his money pouch, only to realize it was probably still with his truck, as he still lacked of pockets.

"No money?" Alex gave him a tired look, before handing Harry a parchment and quill. "Sign your name and we'll send you your bill by post. If your bill is not paid, we reserve the right to send a request to the ministry for aurors to apprehend you and then remove the money from your vault." Harry signed his name.

"Potter? As in, Harry Potter?" It took a few seconds, but finally Alex's bored and annoyed look faded into laughter; she was absolutely beautiful when she smiled, making the change a much appreciated one. "I was wondering what was up with that costume. Even Potter wouldn't be that stupid. Don't worry cutie; I'll cover your fee this time." She checked a small slip of paper. "You're our third stop. Go find yourself a bed."

"Thanks." More questions that needed answers.

"Leaky Cauldron." Alex shook him, just hard enough to wake him, an art she must have perfected over months or even years. "This is your stop, my little imposter." After a few more seconds, Harry was awake enough to realize she must have been referring to him and got up. "If you ever want to see me again, you know where to find me." Harry knew this was a rather nice idea, but couldn't quite remember how to react to it. Simply thanking her, he hopped from the bus, which promptly abandoned him on the deserted muggle road. Not bothering to look around, Harry rushed into the tavern, instead of waiting for more bullshit to fling itself at him.

Entering, quietly, Harry made straight for the door to Diagon alley, unheeded by the normal throng of pedestrians. "Hey! Are you going to be staying?" Tom called from the middle of a small group of patrons. Ignoring him, Harry continued out the door and into the alleys entrance.

Automatically reaching for his wand, Harry's hand grasped nothing. He still had no wand.

"Crap." That meant he would have to go back into the inn and talk to Tom. This, if he interpreted his earlier conversation with Alex correctly, would probably be a bad idea, unless he at least had enough gold to buy the man's silence.

Half-heartedly, Harry tapped the bricks in what he thought was the right pattern, hoping they were triggered by contact and not magic, then waited. About a minute later, they still had not moved. Turning back to the inn, Harry begged for the path to open; just as he reached for the door, something crumbled quietly behind him. Looking back, expecting a brick fell from the gateway into the magical world, Harry gaped at the now open entrance to the center of the business district in Diagon Alley.

"I guess someone let me in." It sounded odd, but made as much sense as anything else happening right then. Hurrying through the gate, Harry continued his trek to Gringotts.

"Where would Potter go? Did he have a safe house? Is he still in Britain? Is anyone helping him?" Moody had a hand firmly planted on both Ron and Hermione's shoulders. His natural eye stared into Hermione, unblinking, and the magical one Rom, waiting for one to give him a sign of weakness.

Hermione wiggled uncomfortably, which was all he needed to pull his wand on them. "Yes. I know you know. Out with it before I decide the red head's comfort is more valuable than yours is. I won't hesitate to curse you half dead to find out what I need. One must fight fire with fire after a-"

"Alastor!" Moody moved back a bit to give him room to maneuver and allowed his magical eye to swivel to Dumbledore. "They would not know that. Remember, they were the first to leave him, upon his betrayal. These are children, not death eaters." Moody took another step away, but didn't his sheath wand or turn away. "Stand down my friend."

"I've got my eye on you." Moody hobbled a bit further away and tucked his wand into his sleeve.

"Now then, I'm sure you have all heard of Potter's escape." Whispering broke out, but he continued, forcing them to silence themselves. "Miss Tonks here has already reported as much as she could to us and her memories of the event are being reviewed by a few of my old friends as we speak. However, we still need to learn more about what Harry did and more importantly, how he did it." The Order members who could make it to the meeting buzzed with speculation, which Dumbledore allowed briefly, before clearing his throat to silence them again.

"I would like several of you to go check the Hogwarts library for any spells relating to his interesting escape. Miss Granger?" Hermione stared with rapt attention. "I will need for you to document any books you remember Harry reading; it won't help much, but I know that if he has read any questionable books, you would remember. If necessary, please use the pensive I will provide you with later. I will meet you later to help you complete your list, and review the books."

"I still think those little bastards are holding out on us. We could make sure…" Dumbledore did not respond to Moody's grim suggestion. "Bloody brats will get us killed…"

Dumbledore continued, as if the interruption had never happened. "Ronald, Neville? I would like for the two of you to contact every one of your peers Harry was involved with, for interrogation. Moody, of course, will take care of the actual interrogation and documentation. The rest of you assist in gathering information on Potter's current whereabouts. This supersedes all Deatheater related orders. Meeting adjourned."

Order members filed out of Dumbledore's home office, towards the apparition room he had temporarily set up, leaving only the Headmaster, McGonagall and Moody. After a few moments of silence McGonagall spoke.

"How is Remus taking it? He hasn't been doing too well since Harry was convicted and the full moon…" She placed her concern well; Remus fell to pieces when he heard the news about Harry imprisonment in Azkaban. There wouldn't be enough of him left to worry about if he found out Harry was out and committing more crimes.

"I was wondering the very same. Could you please check in on him? If only for a few minutes, to make sure he hasn't done anything drastic. On my insistence, he's staying at the Leaky Cauldron, in a private room under my name; I made sure there are more than enough wards placed on it to prevent his escape, should he forget to take the Wolfsbane I left for him. Tom will know how to check your identity." Alastor and Minerva looked slightly annoyed at being sent on what amounted to a minor errand, but they wouldn't complain. Albus had provided him with potions so he could control himself, but if Remus still went feral, the two of them would barely be enough to stop him. That, however, was still better than the impossible task of subduing a werewolf alone.

Two near silent pop signified that the only people he could trust were gone, leaving the wizened headmaster to his studies. A battered and ink stained diary lay next to a giant snake fang on his desk. Next to the pair sat a tarnished ring with a large 'G' emblem resting upon it.

"Excuse me. I would like to withdraw money from my account, but I don't have my key with me." A rather annoyed goblin stared up at Harry. Speaking with it probably shouldn't have bothered the creature so much, but everyone he met seemed at least a little pissed at him, so Harry ignored its glare. "I would prefer if I could do this quickly." With a grumble, it pushed aside its own work and drew an oddly normal looking sheet of parchment from under the table.

"Would you like to retrieve you key, gain access to the vault or review your Gringotts and other bank accounts?" It asked. Now that Harry had time to think about it, he should have had at least one more vault. His parents had to have their own vaults, and he was bounds to have Potter family artifacts somewhere; only an idiot would drag family portraits and such with them while on the run from an evil monstrosity.

"I'd like to find out what vaults I have access to, please." The goblin looked slightly surprised at the please tacked onto the end, but that didn't put a dent in the disapproving look it gave him for interrupting its work.

"Very well." It scribbled something unreadable on a small slip of paper. With a tap of the Goblin's longest finger, the paper cleared itself for a moment, before more scribbles appeared in response. Glancing over it, the creature nodded to itself and looked up at him. "A vault access manager is free to see you. His is currently in the fourth office through the bronze door." Without missing a beat, the goblin returned to calculating something or other.

"Thanks." Harry made his way to the bronze door and with a slight push entered. The corridor, which would not regularly a fit into the reasonably sized building, stretched on at least a few kilometers, with doors every meter or so on one side and what might have been the corresponding portraits of goblins on the other. The fourth door was already ajar, waiting for him.

"Come in, human." Yes, his presence definitely pissed people off. Obeying the rather angry command, Harry entered. "Sit." Harry squashed down the desire to rebel as he sat in the chair provided. "You are here to review your account, correct?" Harry nodded, trying not to get angry. Yet another goblin pissed at him, because he asked them to do their job. "Please state your birth name." The goblin produced a thorny, metallic writing utensil and sat ready to write his answers.

"Harry Potter. I'm pretty sure it's just Harry and not Harold...and I might have a middle name too." Expecting some form of shock or some reaction to his name, Harry was almost disappointed when the account manager simply wrote in several spaces on the paper and moved on to the next question.

"Would you like a key to the vaults you may access or would you prefer to be marked so the tellers automatically let you into your vaults? If you would like a key, do you want the old ones dissolved or invalidated, returned to you or combined into one single key?" It looked up, and seemed to project through sheer force of will that it didn't want to explain how any of these options would come to be.

"I would like a key to each vault, one master key marked differently from the others and to be tagged to allow myself access to the vaults. The old keys should all be dissolved and invalidated." As if the creator of the form had foreseen the choices he would make, the goblin simply marked five boxes and moved onto its next question.

"Would you please cut yourself with this dagger and drip a few drops of blood on the red circle at the bottom of the form?" It waited a few seconds after producing the dagger, before looking up to Harry's unbelieving look. With a roll of its eyes, it explained. "Your blood with be tested magically. During the process, the pre-bound spells in this form will search for vaults that you can access by matching the blood and magical residue in that blood to magical signatures we have recorded. All injuries inflicted by the dagger are cleaned and healed within thirty seconds, which is how long it takes for the process to finish. Gringotts is obligated to destroy any trace of your blood after this procedure has been completed." Wanting to get it over with, Harry jabbed his index finger and allowed the wound to drip until it closed itself. A few seconds later, a large roll of parchment appeared at the bottom of the paper, bringing with it several metal keys.

"So these are the vaults I can freely access?" Unfurling the thick, goblin parchment, Harry read over it. There were about ten vaults on the list and besides each sat the amount of gold they held, the properties associated with them and similar things.

"Yes." Accepting that the goblin wasn't up for a conversation, Harry read through the list.

"Potter family vault: about eight hundred and seventeen thousand galleons. Potter personal vaults, segmented for individual Potters: the main vault contains all heirlooms, deeds to properties and money while the segmented vaults contain personal effects and money only. Each vault receives a monthly stipend of up to five hundred galleons from the main Potter Family vault, until the vault contains five thousand galleons." Looking up to the goblin, it sighed and answered his unspoken question of 'Why?'

"That's standard for a pureblood family. You, and most others, also have a reversed version of that, so that every personal vault will gain or lose money until it contains an exact amount of galleons." Once finished, the goblin returned to writing and Harry continued down the list.

"Marauder vault: Fifteen thousand galleons, with a monthly stipend of five hundred galleons from both the Potter and Black family vaults. Black family vault: a little over nine hundred, seventy thousand galleons. Wait, why do I have access to the Black family vault?" The other immediate items weren't quiet as interesting. Later, he would realize he should have read the list more thoroughly.

"I would assume the head of the family died and passed it onto you. You might have also become the head of the family through the elimination of other family members positioned above you in relation to the last lord." The goblin was becoming more annoyed every second that passed. 'I never have to deal with the competent people that lost their keys. NO! I get the idiots who don't even know how they gain access to a vault. Can't believe I haven't been promoted yet.' "You may keep the form and obviously the keys. The master key has been charmed to create a mark on your dominant hand, which will work as a master key to your vaults, when you intone 'grant access.' I suggest you do this now, as the charm only lasts for an hour." Following the goblin's instructions, Harry granted himself access and watched in fascination, as a large G faded into his palm.

"One thing before I go." The goblin stared at him for a moment, before asking him to continue. "Could I get something to let me make large purchases without carrying that much money?" If he never had to return to Gringotts for money, life would certainly be much easier. Next time guards might just attack him, or something else ridiculous, since the goblins already seemed to hate him.

"If you are willing to have a few hundred galleons removed from one of your vaults, then I could give you an enchanted bag. It comes with the standard antitheft charms you wizards use on your purses and will create sheets of information about the vaults whenever you press on the Gringotts seal on the front." Harry confirmed that he wanted one and the goblin pulled a small moneybag from a desk drawer. "Place the vault key or keys you want the bag to be able to access in it and state your name."

Dropping all of his keys in, he finished the spell. "Harry Potter." His name wrote itself lightly in golden letters along the opening. Clearing its throat to draw his attention, the goblin continued.

"If you would like to be able to summon specific amounts of money or specific items from the pouch, it will cost another few hundred galleons." Harry eagerly agreed to the price. Once Harry agreed, the goblin stroked the G on the pouch and whispered something in its own harsh language. "There are only three more enhancements I can offer now. A set of movement prevention charms that force it to remain in the same place always, the ability to create vaults remotely and the ability to place items into the bag to store them in a vault of your choosing. The pouch will produce a key that, if you choose to, you can summon and it will automatically update your master key, tag and vault list." The goblin stared him down greedily, as if it were getting a commission based on how many of those 'deals' it sold. Even so, they would be invaluable.

"I'll take it all." This time, the goblin took a small pendant out of its pocket and drew several symbols in the air. After only a few seconds, it was finished and the pendant retreated into its pocket.

"Bill the Potter family vault for the expenses. Good night." Placing everything in a new vault through the pouch, Harry attached the bag to his waist and stood to depart. However, before he could leave, one last thing had to be cleared up. "If you ever have any new features, how will you contact me?" With something as useful as this, they had to be developing new things or it regularly.

"We will send a notice to you by owl and through the bag. The first time you open the bag, the new message will be waiting at the bottom. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do. Some idiot has been… interacting inappropriately with muggle-born children, taking advantage of them in ways I would rather not mention; I must now replace him, document this properly with your ministry and send out dozens of apologies. He'll be lucky if our council only hangs him or if they let your people do what they want with him." Grinning with blindingly white, sharp looking fangs, the goblin was now starting to look truly angry, so Harry prodded one last time before he left.

"Who was he?" The manager gave him an odd look, probably thinking it didn't matter whose name he said, as a human wouldn't know who it was anyway.

"Griphook. Griphook of the Ironfist clan. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do." Noting that he had probably heard the name before...probably, Harry nodded and left the goblin to his work. 'Where to next?' Without an owl, he wouldn't be able to contact Dumbledore, but Magical Menagerie would probably be closed by now.

"I'll figure this out in the morning. I should just get a room for now." An armored goblin and a few clerks gave him an odd look as he left Gringotts, but used to stares, Harry paid them no attention. Once again, it was a quiet walk, the streets abandoned and silent giving Harry a chance to think about his wealth. Still pondering over what he could do with his massive fortune, Harry walked into the Leaky Cauldron completely ready to sleep. Unfortunately, as he tried to get Tom's attention, it seemed like sleep wasn't part of his near future.

"POTTER!" Recognizing the growl, Harry spun in the sound's direction. There, wands drawn, stood professors Moody and McGonagall both staring him down with a mixture of disgust and hatred.

"Hey! I was planning to contact you…what's wrong? You look kind of…aw, damn it." As Moody sent three blasting curses his way and McGonagall transfigured a nearby table into a bellowing Minotaur, Harry got the faint feeling that he wasn't quite in the Order's good graces.