The Knight's Rise

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. All hail J.K. Rowling.

Rating: PG

Summary: Magic is outlawed. Harry is lost in obscurity... that is until someone saves him from his lowly place in society. What does that mean? Well, he is Harry Potter. That can only mean one thing-he has a destiny... a destiny that refuses to stay dormant. How will Harry make it in this brand new, magical world? There's only one way to know. Read on.

Chapter One

"Get outta the way, Runt!" the biggest man-servant said with a sneer. "We eat first. You get the scraps."

The man-servant, Dudley, pushed him aside. Harry was deterred from his path.

"Now, Dudley, there is more than enough for all of you," said Bernadette, one of the maids at The Eyelops's Tavern. She placed five bowls of gruel on the small, wooden kitchen table.

Harry scowled. He was behind Dudley and four other servants. He could not reach for a bowl.

A slight blonde stood beside him. "Get one for me, Anaret," whispered Harry to the young girl. "If you can." It was almost a dare.

Anaret nodded. Then, Harry watched a miracle. The young girl squeezed through the small group of servants and reached the bowls of gruel.

A minute later she reappeared beside Harry. One bowl of grayish gruel was in both of her hands.

She was breathless. "Here," Anaret breathed out in small gasps.

Harry smiled. He reached for the bowl of gruel.

Without warning, someone jostled Anaret. She then bumped into Harry. "Oops," said the person. It was Dudley—a fellow servant at The Eyelops's Tavern and Harry's nemesis.

The two bowls of gruel slipped from Anaret's fingers before either Harry or Anaret could do anything.

Dudley laughed meanly as the bowls and all their contents spilled across the floor. "I guess you two will have to eat your food off of the ground," he said with a mean laugh.

Harry stared at the bowls of food. The gray gruel mixed with the dust at his feet.

Harry wanted to cry out in anger. However, he did not. Instead, he glared at Dudley. The pig-faced boy gobbled down his food. Then, he backhanded Anaret. Anaret cried out. Then, he stole the bowl of gruel from the young girl.

Anaret looked desolate.

Harry turned away. He felt sickened by the sight of the small blonde who, too, was near-to-tears.

Dudley moved away. When his back was turned, Harry spoke to Anaret. "Come here," said Harry quietly. The two moved to a dark corner of the room. Harry moved aside some rucksacks that rested on the Tavern wall. He brought out a small cloth hidden behind the sacks.

He peeled the cloth open to show the reward hidden within.

It was a hard roll of bread, a thick piece of mutton and a hunk of yellow cheese.

"I was saving this for later," confided Harry. "But, perhaps we can have it now."

Anaret's eyes grew wide. She stared at the food reverently.

"Oh, Harry! I am ever so grateful. I have not eaten all-day."

Harry ripped the bread into two pieces and handed one half over to the young girl.

"You- you wanted to save this until after the Coronation?" asked Anaret between bites of the bread.

"Yes," he responded. "Yet, the tavern should be quite full this evening because of it. I am certain I can slip something off of some of the tables when everyone's eyes are too busy to notice."

He handed Anaret half of the mutton and half of the cheese as well.

"I do not see why we should care so much about the Princess's fifteenth birthday," said Anaret with an eye-roll. "She has naught to do with us."

Harry laughed quietly. "I agree. However, the townsfolk are pleased to have a few days off because of the Coronation."

"Yes. Will she be the Queen now?" asked Anaret.

"Not quite. She will not have that title until she is married."

A loud voice interrupted their conversation. "Off you get, you two!" said Bernadette. "The Tavern shan't get tidy with you two lolly-gagging about!"

"We best be off before she cooks us into her mince pies," said Anaret with serious eyes.

"And so," responded Harry with a laugh.

That evening the Eyelops's Tavern was full of people just as Harry predicted. Many men were drunk on mead. Some were gambling by the bar. Others were sipping their drinks by the fireplace.

Harry rushed this-way-and-that among the crowd of customers. He did what he always did—he served food, he cleared off tables and he directed people toward the Master of the Tavern, Willis Witherby. The Master oversaw everything at Eyelops… this included customers who wished to stay in an upstairs room for the evening (sometimes with a lady-friend if the customer offered the right price.)

Dudley was in the dining room area as well. Harry avoided him like he typically did. He never got along with Dudley. Dudley and Harry were both sent to Eyelops's Tavern from the local orphanage. They were around the same age and they were sent together. Ever since then, Dudley viewed Harry as a threat—then and now. It was like Dudley deemed that every scrap of food Harry ate was his by right. I hate how that Pig thinks, Harry thought. He thinks that if it's mine, it should really be His, Harry thought with anger.

Moments later, Harry forgot Dudley.

He was by the front door when it happened. The door swung open and a harsh, bitter wind blew through the Tavern. A woman stood in the entryway. She was older—too old to truly know her correct age—with gray haired carefully placed on top of her head. She wore an emerald green cloak that looked to be lined with soft mink. A blood red ruby served as a latch on her cloak.

Rain and sleet fell on the woman. The woman seemed annoyed at the weather's insistent presence.

"Welcome," said Harry when he managed to get a-hold of himself. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. I have traveled long and hard this day. I would like the stable boy to take care of my chaise and my horses. I would also like something to eat—perhaps some stew, bread with goat cheese—anything that you have available."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Harry with a nod. "You needn't worry. The Eyelops's Tavern has the best grub this side of the River. Our cook, Bernadette, has made a fine stew this night."

"I see," said the woman with a dissatisfied nod. She did not seem happy.

The red ruby gleamed brightly in the dim light of the Tavern's dining room.

"Perhaps… you would like some newly baked bread with a hunk of mutton as well as the stew? Also, we have a good, yellow cheese, milk and cream. The cheese, milk and cream are fresh."

The woman looked pleased. "Fine."

"Would you like a strong, red wine as well? We have a casket down in the cellar that is due to be opened soon."

"A strong, red wine, you say?"

"Indeed."

"Yes, that is much better."

"All of that will cost you," said Harry carefully. He did not wish to offend this woman if she was someone with good coin… and she sounded like she had some coin on hand.

"That will not be an issue," replied she.

Harry nodded. He turned to go. However, something stopped him before he did. "Before I take my leave, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Harold." He stood a little straighter. "Harry is my nickname, however. Please call me by that name."

The woman nodded.

"I will be happy to serve you this evening," he finished.

The woman raised a brow. "Quite," she said.

I plan to post the next chapter some time next week. I'll see you then.

-Bridgeport55