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Complete silence.

It was the sound that Harry awoke to on the 10th week back at Number 4, Privet Drive. Fortunately, it also marked the last day he would be spending with the Dursleys; Ron had sent him a letter a few days ago, informing him that the Weasley family would be coming to pick him up on Sunday. That was tomorrow, and Harry couldn't help but feel excited.

After putting on his glasses Harry checked the clock that hung on the wall opposite from him, which read the time to be half past five in the morning. Outside his window he saw nothing but darkness, confirming the given time. It was a good thing it was so early, as he had much that he hoped to do today.

He quickly rolled out of his slightly broken bed, and selected some muggle clothing, as well as wizarding robes for the day. He was intending to visit Diagon Alley, taking advice from a book he had re-read, as well as a letter from his godfather.

While skimming through 'Hogwarts: A History' during the start of the summer, it had suddenly dawned on Harry that he was the sole remaining Potter. He didn't know much about wizarding politics, having been raised by muggles, but he was fairly certain that made him the heir to the family fortune.

The book mentioned many things involving the politics engaged in by many Hogwarts alumni, and yet, for some reason, Harry had not heard a word of it before. The whole affair had seemed like a rather big deal to Harry, and so he drafted up a letter to send for advice.

The letter had initially been intended for Dumbledore, but Harry had decided against it; Harry was still rather ticked off from the decision Dumbledore had made at the end of his previous school year, and even though the wiser part of him knew that the headmaster would likely provide sound advice, the rest of him was feeling rather bitter at the moment.

Regardless, Harry had ended up addressing the letter to Sirius. That had been a little longer than a month ago, and Harry had only just gotten a reply from his godfather.

The letter had come with a rather large tropical bird just last evening. Upon first reading it, Harry thought his godfather had been out of his mind, but the more he thought about, the more he agreed that for once it could be a rather enjoyable and useful adventure, and likely one that wouldn't culminate with him spending a significant amount of time in the hospital wing.

Harry picked up the letter from his bedside table (if one could call it that), reading it over as he tip-toed out the door of his room.

'Dear Harry,

I wanted to thank you, once again, for trusting in me last month by the lake. I've been abroad, as you may have guessed by the bird that sent this, so no harm done. Don't worry, they won't be finding me anytime soon. I've made sure to be spotted a few times in a different continent, so the ministry gets rid of the dementors. It's a school, not a prison. I don't know what they're playing at, although I can't exactly say the ministry is made up of the intelligent bunch.

But more importantly Harry, I've been doing research into what might help you. Most of it is what I remember off the top of my head (as you might remember, I happen to be the most wanted wizard in the world at the moment), but I like to think that it is still relevant information.

Go to Gringotts soon after you get this letter. Before you start cursing me, hear me out. You're the only Potter left, making you the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. You need to register yourself as the heir, and get the key. You probably won't even be able to use it. You won't be able to claim lordship as you aren't yet emancipated, but it is still very important to claim heirship.

I've also had you listed as my heir for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Keep that one quiet Harry, as it could get you in hot water if people found out. The main reason Lucius Malfoy married my cousin Cissy in the first place was so he could have a shot at the Black fortune. Let's just say the fortune makes that of the Malfoys look like a few spare knuts.

Alright, so maybe that isn't entirely true, but the Blacks definitely have more money than the Malfoys. Draco Malfoy is the heir presumptive to the House of Black, and considering that my brother, myself, as well as Bellatrix and Andromeda (Narcissa's older sisters) are all out of line for one reason or another, he thinks Draco is the current heir.

You've got a good shot at the Black Fortune, however. Your grandmother on your father's side is my Grandfather's sister; it's one of the reasons James and I got along so well. That, and you being my godson should be more than enough to claim heirship, but there still is the off chance.

Be wary of who you tell about these heirships. Being the heir doesn't actually mean anything, as you can't access anything. But it does mean that when you are emancipated you become lord, and that nobody can contest you claim. Many people, though Lucius in particular, will do whatever they can to get their hands on one of the biggest fortunes of the magical world.

Take an abilities test too. It's very useful, as you might learn of some rather unique gifts you have. It's fairly rare, but there's always a chance. I heard my cousin Tonks ended up learning she was a Metamorphmagus from the test, so there's obviously a chance.

I heard you were a Parselmouth too, so if you have that, maybe you might have a few more. Ask about that one in particular, Harry. From what my mother told me when I was younger (a lot of nasty things that I mostly don't need to repeat, seeing as myself and your father were right prats when we were younger), Parseltongue is a gift only held by the descendants of Slytherin. My mother would probably be bowing down at your feet, she'd be absolutely scandalized to hear you're a half-blood.

Work hard on your magic, and learn enough to protect yourself. This is the best I can do for now, but I promise to help with what I can.

Keep in touch, Harry.

- Snuffles'

Harry pocketed the letter in one swift movement. This letter was rather different than the two Sirius had sent prior, distinctly lacking the touch of humor that the others had held. He was right, however, and Harry couldn't help but agree with his way of thinking. His clothing in hand, Harry snuck down to the bathroom furthest from the Dursley's bedrooms, taking a quick (and quiet) shower.

He quickly dried and dressed himself, his ears strained to catch any hint of the Dursley's awaking. If he managed to get out of the house, it would be very unlikely that they would realize he left. As far as the Dursley's knew, Harry had been locked in his room for the entire summer.

Harry vastly preferred this punishment to the infinite list of chores he had commonly been forced to do when younger. The Dursley's were happy because they didn't have to deal with the freak, and they got to starve him (he only got about a meal a day, perhaps two if he was lucky).