The Man Behind the Gun

Prologue

Harry Potter, Age 17, runs away from his abusive family members, seeking shelter in Gringotts. There he meets the Muggle, dark Alchemist, and Ex-Soldier Gordon E. Lincoln, who had just lost his dear Witch Daughter due to a magical virus.

Unaware, that this man was eavesdropping on him and his talk with the goblins, he was shocked to find out the next morning that someone had broken in into his relatives' house and shoot them down, leaving Dudley (who was actually morbidly relieved) an Orphan.

As Dumbledore (Who was miraculously alife) finds out who it was, Harry tries his best to protect the man behind the gun, moved by his deeds.

But what was his ambition?
And how will the Life of Hadrien James Potter go on?
The Life of him and the childless Father?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deep in the Night, a frosty wind was howling, as the young Adult had left the house silently like a snake, with nothing but his trunk and cloak, his wands close by him, hidden in his pockets.

His body ached, fresh wounds added to the elders, his breath calm and steady, like death his steps were soundlessly confident as he vanished to the main road, where he called the magical blue bus to take him away.

He needed to find a new Place he could call
Home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the young Wizard entered Gringotts, his cloth still dirtied from his own blood that had been spilled, the Goblins and people went silent.
He entered, and the other customers left.

They knew Harry Potter had had a Problem with the Goblins, they did not want to get into trouble as well.

The Wizard bowed deep towards the smaller and yet superior creatures and spoke quietly, yet it cut through the haunting silence. 
"My Apologies for the Damage I have caused. I am here to pay for my deeds, as well as to get a few things done, as long as you allow such."

The one that looked the eldest, the Headgoblin as it seemed, sighed in an annoying tune and ushered him closer.

As Harry Potter reached the desk that was overly full of gold and documents, the Goblin spoke displeased." Mr. Hadrien J. Potter. My Name is Jarlong the third, the Substitute Director of Gringotts... Since the last one died during the outburst of the Dragon."
Harry winced at this, but Jarlong carried on."Many Of our Brothers and Sisters were wounded because of your action, many dead we had to mourn. You stole from our faults, set free one of the few Pure Bred Dragons we have, let lose the dragon to breathe fire upon us, and yet you dare to come here, to us of all, to apologize and rightfully pay?"

Potter nodded, ashamed, yet nothing was to be seen in his face, and the sneer of the Goblin softened. "So be it. We would have simply taken the money from your faults, but now that you are here, we can make a rightful deal. Now, except for the damage that has to be paid, the money that will go to the families of the dead, and the gold to buy a new dragon and pay the men that had helped to repair the roof, which would cost about one-million and seven hundred-thirty-two galleons, twenty sickles and eight knuts, what can we do for you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry felt a bit lightheaded and furrowed his brows in concern. "Do I even have enough money for the dept, Mister Jarlong? Or should I work it off?"

The Goblin stiffed. "No Worries, Mr. Potter. As listed, You have over seven faults, each filled with gold till over the top. Your Magical Guardian should have brought that to your attention, as soon as you hit age thirteen!"

...
"As it seems he must have forgotten so. May I know which Faults I provide over?"
Harry was fuming beneath his thin pale skin, and the Headgoblin nodded.