Chapter 13

The Essence of Nobility

A/N: Here's chapter 13 for your viewing delight! I want you all to know that you're support has been amazing and I'm excited that you all have been enjoying my story. I'm finally getting everything hammered out and onto the page, or into the word processor, as it were. Hopefully this means updates will be more consistent again. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter. Thank you for the reviews! Also, I apologize if my characters sound too American, I attempt to keep my language more English but I don't want too overdo it and satirize that style of speech.

RafingCassowary: "Have you ever read the Wheel of Time books?" Actually, no. I haven't. Would you recommend them? I've considered picking them up multiple times, but found myself daunted by the length of the series, as well as its unfinished state (I believe Sanderson may have finished them recently, but am unsure.) Anyway, no. Thank you for the compliment however : )

Over the next few weeks Harry became accustomed to his schedule at Hogwarts. He woke each morning and went to the Great Hall for breakfast where he sat at the Gryffindor table, often by himself. Harry found, more and more, that he had no one around with whom to relate. Ron had become extremely surly in his presence ever since he had heard that Harry had made Gryffindor's Quidditch team during his first year. His words: "You only made it onto the Gryffindor team as a publicity stunt and not because you have real talent!" had stuck with Harry and Harry found himself avoiding the boy so that he wouldn't have to deal with Ron's dark attitude. It bothered Harry, but he didn't know how to fix the problem.

After breakfast Harry would attend his classes and finish homework. This became another point of contention with Ron. Harry was quite studious, often finishing his homework early, and Ron's muttering to Seamus or Blaise whenever he saw Harry studying in the common room made Harry think he took Harry's commitment to his schooling as some sort of judgment on Ron's lackadaisical attitude. This led Harry to a semi-isolated state. Ron was angry with him. Hermione was still acting as if she loathed him. And Neville, the only other boy Harry had spent any significant time talking to, was constantly jumping from detention to extra homework because of his seeming ineptitude in his classes. Obviously, this limited his and Harry's contact significantly.

Having no one to talk to didn't bother Harry overmuch, as he was used to not speaking at all when he was locked in his cupboard. He had learned to live without friends. He had learned to survive beatings and hatred and being viewed as a lesser person. He was used to it. That was what he told himself when he sat alone at lunch between classes.

After classes Harry had Quidditch practices four days a week. The practices were difficult and Harry was surprised to find how sore one became after flying a broom for several hours. He found himself waking up stiff in muscles he didn't know he had. He wasn't complaining, though, as Quidditch was an amazing source of stress relief for him. He remembered when Wood had finally explained the rules to him.

They had sat in the center of the Quidditch pitch, Oliver unpacking a small rulebook from the Gryffindor Quidditch Team's equipment chest.

"Harry," Wood had started. "Congratulations on being our new seeker. You're quick and you've got natural talent, but an enormous part of success is strategy. How much do you know about the rules of Quidditch?"

"Not very much." Harry had admitted nervously.

Oliver nodded. "It's quite simple really. There are four positions on a standard Quidditch team. Three chasers handle the quaffle, this large red ball here, and try to score a goal in one of those hoops." He gestured up to the raised circles that sat in the air. "Each goal is worth ten points. The next position is keeper – that's me – and a keeper's job is to make sure that the opposing team doesn't score goals. We guard the goalposts and block shots. Every Quidditch team has two beaters who fly about trying to aim the four bludgers at their opponents, hoping to distract them or unseat them. Finally, there's you." Oliver finished.

"Your job, Harry, is to be the seeker and catch the golden snitch. It's small and quick, as you know, even though the snitches you were chasing in tryouts were made to be easier to catch. The snitch is arguably the most important aspect of Quidditch. When the snitch is caught, the team who catches it gets fifty points, which is often enough to swing a lead from behind. Sometimes, though, the team could be more than fifty points behind. When this happens, you have to stop looking for the snitch. At that point, you try to distract and harm the other team in any way possible. I'll show you some basic plays over the next few weeks." Wood said with an obsessive grin.

That had been the beginning. Wood's passion for the game had quickly rubbed off on Harry, as he suspected it had with his other teammates, and he found himself viewing practices as some of his favorite times in the week. He learned plays, developed strategy, and worked on complicated movements for specific situations; but most of all, Harry flew.

During these practices, Harry discovered that he loved the air. He thrived on it. When he was in the sky he wasn't thinking about the Dursleys or his parents. He didn't think about classes or homework. When he was flying he didn't have to think about Hermione or Ron avoiding him, about Neville's expulsion worries, or even about Esther Harwood.

Esther Harwood. There was a mistake if Harry had ever made one. Esther was an Heir. Not an heir from a poor family who clings to their pureblooded wizard status like it was a shield, but from a capital-H, wizarding-ancient heir. And it wasn't just a fact about her family. Esther and her friends called themselves the Heirs. A group that included students from every house and year. And Harry—poor little raised-by-hateful-muggles Harry— he had singled himself out as supporting muggles and muggleborns in front of her, demeaning and insulting her in the process. He was naïve. He was a fool.

Esther and the other heirs were far more attentive than he had expected. They looked at Harry and saw the Heir of a pureblooded family older than England who held massive amounts of money and had no parents to hold him to old contracts and alliances or to protect him from new ones. In short, he was fruit ripened to perfection. His snubbing of Esther seemed to have made a large portion of them somewhat hostile.

Harry wondered at times how he would've been different if his parents hadn't died. He thought of warm afternoons spent enjoying himself with the mother who spoke to him from his diary and the father that had been a seeker just as Harry now was. He pictured conversations where they sat him down and explained what he would have to do as the Potter heir. He imagined attending films and sports events with them. He fantasized of his father's embrace and his mother's lips pressed to his cheek. Then he remembered blood-stained walls and a cupboard that smelled of urine from when Vernon decided he wouldn't be let to the loo.

That happy, understanding boy that Harry might've been if his parents had survived was gone, his ambitions and ability to negotiate gone with him. This Harry, the real Harry, knew what it was to reset a dislocated shoulder. He knew how to cook and clean and avoid a skillet as it swung through the air, hoping to find the sensitive parts of your face. He knew the feel of hot fire, cold iron, and, worst of all, self-loathing. Harry knew what it meant to feel worthless.

The Harry that had survived the Dursleys and wound up attending Hogwarts had foolishly told the ringleader of the female Heirs that he would be her enemy and the enemy of those who supported her. He had incited her. He had pushed her. And over the next months she had certainly pushed back.

Harry had consistently found himself the target of jeers and threats, both verbal and written. Sometimes it was a boy he'd never seen telling him that he shouldn't sleep that night for fear of not waking up. Other times, it was a lewd comment about Harry's mother next to a poorly-drawn image scribbled onto a piece of paper. All of this was augmented with Draco Malfoy's own unyielding criticism of anything Harry was involved in. He called Harry out for any mistake he made and relentlessly attacked him verbally and a small part of Harry started to loathe the boy almost as much as he loathed his uncle.

The worst thing about the response of his fellow students, however, was that the things Esther was unwilling to do to Harry, as he was still heir to a powerful pureblood family, if a muggle-lover, she did to Hermione in his place. Harry had come to dread hearing any of the Heirs laughing, knowing that it often meant they had been bullying Hermione or some other student they disdained. One day after lunch he arrived to the common room to find Hermione weeping as she attempted to gather up a book that had been torn apart moments before. Harry had tried to help but she had shoved him harshly away and told him to mind his own business. Harry's brain had reminded him that if he had done just that, she probably wouldn't have been targeted so harshly. In attempting to stand up for Hermione, he had just made her life worse.

On yet another occasion, Harry had found Hermione lying in a hallway with a bloody lip from an unknown encounter. When he asked her about it, he received no response. She looked dazed and slightly confused. Her eyes came back into focus and she seemed to finally see Harry in front of her.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione said in a harsh tone, betrayed by the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

"Are you alright Hermione?" Harry asked, ignoring her question.

"I am quite fine." More tears fell. "I don't need you fawning over me, I can handle myself." She brushed past Harry quickly and darted into the nearby girls' lavatory. Harry had watched her depart with a frown on his face, wishing that he had never said a word to Esther. He had seen the pain Hermione hid inside of her. He recognized the look in her eyes. They were the same as his own.

Harry sat in the library alone at a wooden desk thinking of all of this. He had finished all of his homework and now he just sat. He had nothing to do. No one to go spend time with. He found that Hogwarts was a lonely place. He enjoyed his learning, but wished he could go back to the Tonks' house. He didn't want to be here anymore. He didn't want to be around these people. With Tonks he had still been able to learn, but without everyone staring at him and judging him.

Harry thought this, but knew he would never leave. Tonks had told him she would see him over the summer, but Harry knew he couldn't escape the Dursleys that easily. He could feel it. If he left, he would leave to the Dursleys. And in the summer he was going to have to go back. Harry's blood chilled as he thought of returning to that family. To those people.

Harry shut these thoughts away and began reading his mother's diary. He would stay at Hogwarts no matter what. He could learn here, and nothing could be as bad as the Dursleys. As he read, Harry noticed that his mother didn't speak much of the negatives at Hogwarts after that first mention. She complained, certainly, but she hadn't mentioned any mistreatment due to being muggleborn. Harry wondered why there had been only one mention of anything specific as he read.

January 12th, 1972

Today was the last straw. I don't know why I should stay here if I'm going to be treated so bad.

With hate,

Lily Evans

Harry reread the incredibly short entry. It was so undescriptive, so empty. It was clearly his mother's writing, but it almost seemed written by someone else. And it appeared as if she wanted to leave Hogwarts. Why would she do that? Harry knew that she hadn't and began to wonder what had set her off like this. Idiot, he thought. You can just read more and find out.

January 13th, 1972

I tried to call Daddy today, but Professor Flitwick said they didn't have any telephones here. I just want to go home. Everyone here is mean to me. I don't have any friends at all and people keep teasing me. I wish I had stayed back with Tunie. Prince still talks to me but we never get much time together and his other friends scare me. I just finished writing the letter Flitwick said he would send dad. Maybe I'll go home soon.

Lily Evans

Harry was downtrodden. Reading this was making him look a little too closely at the negatives of Hogwarts. He was surprised by his mother's feelings and wanted to know when things changed. He read through her initial conversation with her father, Harry's grandfather, he realized. The man had been supportive of Lily, but recommended she not come home unless she was sure, and she decided to give it another week. Lily's journal entries were inconsistent and confused. She made it clear she loved magic and its world, but didn't feel she belonged. Harry sped through another handful of entries before coming to a turning point.

January 21st, 1972

Well, it's me again. I might've changed my mind about leaving. For some reason I feel guilty, but I'm not gonna apologize to a diary. Anyway, I made a friend today. Her name is Pandora. She's a lovely person. She told me that if I left it would be like giving up and telling everyone who teased me that they were right. I don't want people to call me a quitter.

I think I can stay now. Pandora said she'll introduce me to some nicer people and things will get better.

With hope,

Lily Evans

Harry smiled when he read this last entry. He knew his mother had stuck around at Hogwarts. He knew she found a place she belonged. It was uplifting to see the change beginning to take place.

Harry mused aimlessly on his family before being startled from his reverie by a brown owl that had flown in through an open window and lighted on his table. Harry untied the letter from its leg and it flew away before he had begun to read.

"Dear Harry,

Never did meet me for that cup of tea. Think you can spare a minute this afternoon? I'll be in the rest of the night. Drop by if you like.

Hagrid."

Harry grinned widely at that. He had had little time to visit the man since he arrived. He gathered up his books and stuffed them into a bag quickly. Harry slung it over his shoulder and departed the library full of excitement to see the closest thing to a friend he had at Hogwarts.

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Harry pounded his small fist against the wooden door of Hagrid's hut while wind billowed through his black school robes. He waited in the slightly chilly air while he heard the clattering noise of Hagrid rousing himself from some unseen activity.

"Jus' a minute!" Hagrid yelled. Harry fidgeted as he watched a small eye-slit open high up on Hagrid's door. On seeing him, Hagrid's bushy eyebrows lifted as he smiled. "'Arry! Come in!" He said as he threw open the door.

Harry walked in to the small cabin and surveyed his surroundings. To his left was a medium-sized fireplace that snapped and cracked happily as several logs burnt away. In front of him lay the dining table with the kitchen behind, its wooden cupboards hanging loosely from old hinges. On the right sat the largest bed Harry had ever seen and a black dog bounded out from the hallway that branched off next to it.

"Fang. Down." Hagrid said as the dog proceeded to sniff Harry, running his nose across the boy's body and generally slobbering all over him. The dog made no move to comply with Hagrid's wishes and nuzzled still more until Harry began to pet him. A bit of semi-hot wax dripped down to land on Harry's ear from the candle-studded chandelier that lit this room. Harry rubbed it away quickly and sat down in the seat Hagrid offered him.

"'Arry m'boy! Didn't 'spect ya so soon! I was jus' making meself a bit of supper. Ya hungry?"

"Actually, no." Harry replied. "I ate in the Great Hall not too long ago. I came down straight away when I got your letter."

Hagrid smiled at that. "Well there weren't no need for straigh' away, but I'm glad yer here. How're ya liking 'ogwarts?" Hagrid asked and sat in a chair across from Harry.

Harry's face fell slightly before he replied. "It's been great, Hagrid. I really enjoy it here."

Hagrid looked closely at Harry. "Don't give me none o' that." He said. "I could tell from a long ways off that yeh've been less than 'appy. I migh' look dumb, but I ain't that bad." Hagrid finished pointedly.

Harry sighed, caught. "I really do like it here Hagrid. The classes are amazing. I feel like every day I go to class I get to learn something incredible." He paused. "Well, mostly every day. Professor Binns can be slightly boring." Harry skirted carefully, not wanting to offend the large man by demeaning his coworker.

Hagrid barked out a laugh. "Professor Binns is a sight more'n boring if ye ask me. When I was 'ere, I fell asleep near every class o' his. Couldn't b'lieve my 'appiness when I finally got ta drop 'is class in sixth year."

Harry looked up. "You can drop classes at Hogwarts?" he said with hope in his voice.

"Not quite so quick as that." Hagrid said. "'Istory of Magic is required learning for yer firs' five years. Some take it to NEWT level. Truth is, I failed my OWL 'n' couldn't take it if I wanted to. From yer third year on yeh can take 'lectives. Those are yer choice and yeh can drop 'em if yeh like."

Harry thought about that and was filled with excitement. "What classes are there? What kind of things can you take?"

"All sorts. There's Care o' Magical Creatures; that was my favorite when I were a studen'. What else?" He asked himself. "There's Dueling class, Divination, and Physical Defense; that last was new an' caused a bit of a ruckus among some folk who didn' want children learnin' ta fight. I don't remember many others, but I took French." He remembered wistfully. "Thought it migh' help with womenfolk. Don't remember much now. Omelette du Fromage." He said slowly and smiled.

"My Magical Creatures professor was amazing, taugh' me all 'bout acromantulas and unicorns. Everything I needed to know really. Loved creatures ever since." Hagrid looked at Harry. "Now I work fer Jason Wargfen. He'll be yer teacher if yeh take the class. Good man Wargfen. He knows 'is subject. Name should tell you that. He's one o' the military heirs. His folk got their royalty fer being good at war, not fer licking boots."

Harry looked at Hagrid, somewhat startled. "One of the teachers here is royalty?"

Hagrid waved him off. "Lower noble. Doesn't look down on the normal folk like some do. He's like yer father in that."

Harry was shellshocked. "Hagrid, are you saying my father was a noble too?"

Hagrid stared at Harry for a moment. "Yeh don't know? I thought they'da told ya." He trailed off for a moment and gazed into space before his eyes locked on Harry again. "Haven't yeh seen the Heirs 'round the school? They're mostly rich folk who do a good bit more talkin' then they should. Only seen with each other?" Harry nodded dumbly.

"Well Harry, all of them are part of the peerage, the royal family o' magical Britain, an' yer one of 'em. Fairly high up if I 'member. Can't give yeh much more 'n that as I don't know it. Royalty never seemed important ta me."

Harry looked at Hagrid incredulously. "I'm part of the royal family?"

Hagrid nodded. "Lots of folk are at 'ogwarts. Best school in Britain innit?" Hagrid looked to the fire and jumped from his chair. "Forgot my stew!" He said loudly.

Harry just sat. He had no idea that the Heirs were actually Heirs. They weren't just rich wizarding families, they were royalty. Some of the things Harry had seen started to make more sense. No wonder they stayed together, they all hoped to rise in the ranks. And Harry was one of them. He could almost laugh at that.

As Hagrid stirred the pot and added various ingredients, Harry spoke up. "So, what does it mean to be royalty? Do I have to do anything extra or is there a title or anything?"

Hagrid looked at Harry as he bent over the pot. "I'm sure I ain't the righ' person ta ask 'arry. I don' know nothing about nobility. I just try to stay out o' their way. Most o' them that is. Your da and Jason are exceptions. They were never like the others."

Hagrid came back to his seat after having stirred the pot and moved it off the fire somewhat. "Anyway, 'arry. Don't think I forgot. What do yeh think o' 'ogwarts?"

Harry looked away. He thought of everything that had happened in the last months. Hermione's standoffishness, Ron's stubborn immaturity, Esther Harwood's meanness. He didn't realize he was talking until he was several sentences in. Harry told Hagrid everything. He told him about Malfoy stealing his book and about how unsure he was about Hogwarts. He told him how he felt he didn't have any real friends, just people who wanted him for his name and his money.

Harry told Hagrid about Esther Harwood and how he had stood up to her. Told him of her recent mistreatment of Hermione. He even talked about his mother's diary entries. By the end of his talking, Hagrid was staring at him over a warm bowl of stew that he ate while Harry tried to rein in his emotions. After a long moment, Hagrid finally spoke.

"'arry." He said with a sad tone. "I know things 'ave been 'ard. I don't wan' yeh ta think fer a momen' it's yer fault. I've been where yeh are righ' now an' I know it'll get better. Ron might be a bit upset now, but I know 'is brothers. If he's at all like 'em, 'e won't be gone fer long. An' Hermione? I don't know what's got 'er on, but if she don't want to be 'round ya, ya don't need her." Hagrid nodded his head vigorously with this proclamation.

"That last part though," Hagrid said quietly. "'arwood is a name I've 'eard too much 'round 'ere. The 'arwoods are rich and more powerful than most any family at 'ogwarts, even yers. Yeh best be careful 'round her. There are rumors o' some dark things 'bout that family. Don't stoop ta her level though. 'er and 'er Heir friends can do what they want. You just stick by what you know is right. They'll either leave or stop matterin'."

Harry smiled at Hagrid's statement. He was right. Harry was worrying too much. He was letting everyone else affect his decisions. Tears welled in his eyes for a moment as he considered that Hagrid actually cared for him.

Hagrid gave Harry one last look and said, "'arry, it migh' seem like things're too 'ard, like no one wants ta know yeh for yerself, but remember that if yeh want friends yeh've gotta earn 'em." Harry nodded and Hagrid's serious expression disappeared, replaced with a large smile. "Now that that's over, I hear yeh've got a Quidditch match next week?"

Harry smiled and began talking.

A/N: Alright, chapter 13 is done. This one is a little less action than the last. I hope you guys like it. It was necessary to set up the action that will be happening in the next few chapters, I really hope no one was bored by it. Thank you for reading and please review! It's a great motivator to post faster. Let me know your thoughts.

Where were you when I was in a win, win situation?