AN-Beta'd by Alix the Alien Cyborg
Hogwarts was interesting, Harrison decided as the second week of term came to an end; very different from what he was used to, but fascinating all the same. There were more people in the castle than he'd ever seen in one place- excluding the times he'd been in the muggle world or historical sites with his tutors- and classes were intriguing. Some of his classmates left him a little perturbed; the fact that people had been raised without lessons in deportment and etiquette was shocking to the young heir. He'd long been used to the fact that very few of his peers would have the same responsibilities he did as an Original, but their manner and state of being were a source of endless confusion.
This too, was the first time Harrison had really interacted with people who were against the gentry; the small, but vocal faction that opposed the traditions and standards the peerage held themselves too. He and Neville, his god brother and closest friend in the world, had been quite shaken when an older Ravenclaw had raged at them for 'supporting the oppression of magical creatures' and 'actively pushing discrimination against muggleborns', his tirade lasting for nearly ten minutes before a seventh year Slytherin, Heir Leander Greengrass, had come to their rescue.
As a Prefect (but not Head Boy, that was a Hufflepuff), Heir Greengrass had taken points away from Ravenclaw house and berated the wizard for going after those younger than him. "It's always frightening the first time you encounter people like that," he said reassuringly once the seething wizard had stalked off, "but there are so few of them that they become easy to ignore, and their arguments easy to refute, for they haven't changed much in the last 30 years." Heir Greengrass was someone Harrison wanted to resemble when he was older; the elder wizard carried himself with an easy grace, was courteous to all, and talented in all areas of academia- Papa had told him Heir Greengrass had plans to spend time with the British Embassy before taking up the usual duties of Original scions upon their graduation.
Neville had been shocked into silence, he was shyer than Harrison to begin with, and this experience had left him rattled. Harrison himself looked at Heir Greengrass with wide eyes, "Mum was a muggleborn," he said, voice showing the fear he still held, "why would I want to discriminate against muggleborns when my mum was one once?" He could navigate and understand the muggle world to a certain degree, and held nothing against those without magic (though they were a source of endless confusion), even though the relationship between his mother and her muggle sister was nonexistent.
Heir Greengrass looked thoughtful for a moment, but Neville found his voice quicker than the older wizard could find an adequate response, "Your mum's been a newblood since her fourth year of Hogwarts, right?" at Harrison's nod, Neville continued, looking thoughtful, "Once she started courting, and bonded with your dad, she became an Original.." he stopped there, trying to come up with the right sentiments to accurately convey his thoughts, but not finding adequate words. Neville hadn't spent as much time in the muggle world as Harrison, and didn't have the same grasp of wizard-muggle relations (and a larger dose of wariness towards the muggle world).
"And once she became the Archiduae Potter, many among United Britain felt that she had turned her back on the muggle population, and betrayed muggleborns." Heir Greengrass said, speaking of the far-left group that advocated for integration of muggle culture into the wizarding world and dissolution of the gentry and the rules of propriety, "They like to ignore the fact that she headed the coalition that brought the wizarding culture classes back to Hogwarts, which will start next term, and saw the takedown of many discriminatory laws against muggleborns."
It made Harrison proud to hear people speak of his mother's accomplishments, which she did in addition to her duties as an Original, and helped calm his still racing heart and anxious mind. A lanky redhead, whom both Gryffindors recognized as one of their Prefects, came to a stop next to their small group, and after making the appropriate bows, he said "If I may add to this conversation?"
Heir Greengrass inclined his head, and the other wizard spoke again, "It's nearly impossible for some people to get over their bullish stubbornness and long held prejudices." He, to Harrison, sounded as if he had an intimate knowledge of the matter, "Some people will refuse to see the facts, or consider the other side, no matter how hard you try."
"You above all have an intimate understanding of that, Sir Weasley," Heir Greengrass said with respect, leaving the younger two wizards bemused for a brief moment, before they remembered who exactly Sir Weasley was.
Sir Percival Weasley was the third child of Arthur and Molly Weasley, the current heads of the family. Arthur, in his fascination with Muggle culture, had attempted to coerce a witch into a marriage in his sixth year, which in the magical world was the equivalent of a life-long mistress. Add to the fact that the witch in question had been from an Ancient and Noble house, and the Weasley family had lost their Ancient status and gained the title of Blood Traitor.
They had been expunged from the gentry, losing all rights to practice the traditions and rites and the status that came along with it. Molly Weasley, once Molly Prewett, had been disowned by her grandfather for marrying Arthur; as such, the Weasleys became strong detractors of the peerage. Sir Weasley, unlike his most of his siblings, had a fascination with the gentry and their traditions. Once at Hogwarts, he had fought tooth and nail to gain the title of newblood, causing much strain with his family. Word had it that Heir Fabian Prewett, his uncle though his disowned mother, had plans of making the young man his Heir once he assumed the mantle of Marquess Prewett.
Sir Weasley only nodded in response, not wishing to talk more of his family then he had to. Harrison suddenly had a newfound respect for him, as did Neville, for it was one thing to read of such scandal in books and hear of it from others, but quite different to meet a person directly involved. Sir Weasley's youngest brother, Ronald, was their year in Gryffindor, but he had ignored the existence of Harrison and Neville since the night of the sorting. His twin brothers, Fred and George, were pranksters and notorious across the school for their antics.
"It's getting late, almost near curfew," Sir Weasley said after a long moment of silence, "and it wouldn't do for heirs of the gentry to be caught out in the castle at such an hour."
"Right you are, Sir Weasley," Heir Greengrass replied, "and I must beg my leave, as I have rounds tonight in the dungeons." The task would be tedious, as the large majority of Slytherin house had better tact than to wander the castle at night (or be so obvious that they would get caught), and the dungeons were such a maze that it was common to find lost students. Heir Greengrass often came across students in the middle of amorous actions, causing many witches of the gentry to refuse Prefect status- none ever wished to see their fellow students behaving in such a debase manner.
"A bheannaigh, Heir Greengrass." Harrison said with a bow, speaking for Neville and Sir Weasley as he was the highest ranked. Sir Weasley was thankful he didn't have rounds tonight, and even more glad he was only scheduled to patrol the dungeons three times this term.
"A bheannaigh to you as well, Heir Potter, and to Heir Longbottom and Sir Weasley." Heir Greengrass replied with a low bow of his own. Propriety satisfied, Heir Greengrass turned and left, heading towards the dungeons. The two young heirs were well protected with Sir Weasley, and he had no qualms about their safe return to Gryffindor Tower.
The trio was quiet as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, each consumed with thoughts of their own. They reached the Fat Lady, joining a crowd of fellow Gryffindors coming in from the grounds, and filed into the somewhat crowded room. Students of all ages sat around the common room, working on assignments or simply goofing off. When Harrison was spotted, a fair amount got to their feet and bowed. Harrison acknowledged the bows with a nod of his head, not seeing those who made disgusted faces.
"Is that absolutely necessary every time he enters a room?" Hermione Granger's scathing voice carried through the loud room, which became quite silent as her rude query was heard. In a mere two weeks she had made a great nuisance of herself, coming to annoy many. She hadn't made any public enemies yet, but was coming very close to crossing that line.
"I don't demand that people bow or curtsey to me, Granger," Harrison said,his voice dripping disdain, "I, as an Original Heir, am the highest ranked individual in the room. It is a sign of respect the others give me, something that I would never dare force another individual to do." It could never be said that the Archidux and Archiduae Potter raised a bigot, but they had instilled it in Harrison to be polite and courteous to others, and he had come to dislike those who acted otherwise.
"It's the twentieth century!" Granger shot back, "It's absurd that people still require bows and curtseys and the excessive usage of titles. We are not in the Victorian era!" She found it ridiculous that people still acted in such a manner- putting others above them by what house they were born into, acting as if ancestry really mattered above all. It was backwards, demeaning, and ridiculous, in her opinion.
Lady Lada Vavasour looked like she wanted to smack Hermione across the face for her audacity, but as a true noblewoman would never resort to physical assault, she used her preferred weapon -words. "If you even bothered to open one of the myriad books about magical culture, instead of clinging to your foolish beliefs, you would understand why we all bow or curtsey to individuals like Heir Potter. I can put it in simpler terms, if you wish, as you seem incapable of comprehending written word?" she smirked as Granger's face turned a rather unattractive shade of red, several other of the scions wearing similar smirks or grins of their own.
"Heir Potter's family is one of the oldest in our world," Lady Vavasour continued, talking as if Hermione were a small child, "and one of the first lines to be gifted with Magic. Since that time, they have served and protected our country tirelessly, and worked to keep the peace between all of Magic's children and keep Her most sacred sites safe. They deserve nothing but the highest reverence we can give, since without them, we would be nothing more than squabbling bands of barbarians." It went unsaid, but was clearly understood, that Lady Vavasour was of the opinion that Muggles were barbarians.
Hermione now looked as if she could explode with sheer rage. Wordless in her anger, for it was found out very quickly that nothing riled her more than insults to her intelligence or digs at her ancestry, she let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a scream and pushed her way through the throng of people until she was at the stairs to the witches' dorms, which she stomped up. Everyone heard a door open and close with such a bang that it would have fallen off its hinges if the castle wasn't imbued with magic in every surface. The common room was silent for a long moment, before breaking out near simultaneously in excited chatter. All the details of Hermione Granger's latest social faux pas would be known by the end of breakfast the next morning, and there was no doubt that the gossip mill would be going full speed.
Harrison made his way over to Lady Vavasour alone, Neville having started a conversation with Dean Thomas (a muggleborn wizard that Neville hoped to extend an offer of fostering to), wanting to thank her. The elegant witch was still seated in the same spot she was when she had given Hermione her dressing down, and had stood and given Harrison a low curtsey when he approached.
"Please sit, Fair Lady," Harrison said, hoping that she could her the gratitude in his voice. It was still a little new for him to have older people giving him bows and curtseys of acknowledgement; he was still more used to seeing that being done for his father, mother, and grandparents. "You have my sincere thanks for the defense of my family, Lady Vavasour."
Lady Vavasour, who had sat back down on the chair, looked serious, "Your thanks are much appreciated, Heir Potter, but there is no need for them. It is the least thing I can do, for I meant my words truly when I said that your family and the other Originals deserve our highest reverence."
At this, Harrison wasn't exactly sure what to say. He kept his usual look of polite indifference, but inside, his mind was swirling- what he and his family did was their duty, quite literally instilled in their bloodline. People were always respectful, but hearing someone actually speak it was a little odd. "I simply do my duty, Lady Vavasour." he said modestly.
Harrison knew why the Noble house of Vavasour were such stalwart supporters (often defenders) of House Potter; his family had quite literally saved hers from eradication generations ago, the Potters quietly giving the Vavasours vats of Achilles Restorative Draught, the incredibly challenging potion which was the only cure to the wasting disease that had been rapidly decimating their house.
"And we are grateful for it, Heir Potter." Lady Vavasour replied smoothly, rising and dipping into a curtsey, " A bheannaigh." she said lowly, making note of the United Britain supporters around her with haughty disgust. She herself was a staunch traditionalist, even as a fourth year, and despised those who wanted to see the downfall of her culture.
"A bheannaigh to you as well, Lady Vavasour." Harrison replied, not really caring that those around him could clearly hear his traditional words of parting- if they couldn't behave with the same politeness and courtesy Harrison afforded them, the young heir would ignore them. Lady Vavasour stood, and with several friends, headed for the witches' dorms.
Harrison decided to write a letter to his dad; the repetitive motions of writing always calmed him, and his dad gave the best advice. He had faced similar people from the moment he stepped foot in Hogwarts, and was always an endless reservoir of guidance and help. His father too could give him updates on his siblings; Harrison missed them dearly, and it was hard not to be homesick for the sound of Hadrian's laughter and their broom races, or Hilaria's requests to read just one more story and her giggles of delight when he gave all the characters funny voices.
It wouldn't be long until Harrison saw them again though; he was due to assist his paterfamilias in the fall meeting with the Fae Queen, Astarte. The young heir was sure he could convince his pater to make a stop at Gryffon's Rost before returning him to Hogwarts. The staff of Hogwarts had no right to complain that the Heir Potter was off grounds and missing class- the Potter family had been working with the Fae for millennia, and bad things tended to happen when the Fair Folk felt they had been slighted.
AN- Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Comments make my day, so I'd love to hear what you lovely people have to say
And to clarify, the significance behind Arthur Weasley attempt at coercing a witch into marriage: in the magical world, people bond. Bonding is the melding of magic and soul, binding two together for eternity. A marriage binds one party (usually a witch) to the another (often a wizard), while leaving the other free to bond or persue another marriage and is not used in polite society.