From a young age, Harry Potter knew he was second. Not in his parent's hearts- he learned everything Louis did, was given the same attention- but in the simple matter of succession. He may have gotten to witness the lessons on politics and maintaining an estate, but unless the worse happened, he wouldn't get to put them into practice. He was second out, so he would inherit after Louis.

When he walked the manor and overlooked the gardens, it nagged at him. It wouldn't be his. He didn't think his brother would kick him out or anything, but it wouldn't be his alone. Perhaps he'd get something else. Godric's Hallow, maybe.

An appanage. Enough to live in, but probably not enough to make a living off of. He'd have to find some way of supporting himself and a potential partner, something for the start of his cadet branch. House Potter-of-the-Hallow, perhaps. There would be no seat, no heirlooms.

It would be all his own.

(When they went to Hogwarts, it wasn't just a friendly rivalry that propelled him to compete with his brother. It was an understanding that he'd have to work. Whatever he didn't inherit, he'd make up through sweat. For whoever was to come.)

Then there was the war. The worst side of the magical world, the old pureblood aristocracy, was struck down under the leadership of Voldemort. That they were guided by a half-blood was a crowning irony, the destruction of the old blood by the very new blood they feared.

(Tom Riddle was a climber. A strainer. He fought and fought to carve out his place in the world.)

And yet what happened when Voldemort fell to the Potters, when the monsters were carted away to prison? The carrion birds started circling, eyeing the choicest spoils of that ruined aristocracy. To give to the common man? Perhaps to use as some sort of fund for the education of muggleborn children and their introduction to magical society?

Of course not.

The seats and the land and the titles were redistributed. No questioning the system, no reform, just land for the heroes of the war. And that included Harry. It was his own plot of land, his own title, his own mansion. His livelihood was secured. And yet, it suddenly felt so unimportant.

His title was nice. But it wasn't fair, really. It was the same elitism as before, acting like putting nice people in charge somehow solved the institutional issues… Like muggleborns hadn't sacrificed so much more than him, only to get nothing but a society that barely recognized their humanity.

…

They counted: they needed one more vote to enact the reforms they dreamt of. One vote. All they needed was one.

Begging and pleading was unlikely to work on anyone left, so Harry and the others went searching for anything that might give them a chance. Bribes would be hard to field, but it was possible…

It was searching through old law precedents that they found what they needed: the Right to Challenge. Didn't it make sense for the most magically powerful child to inherit titles? Having a system in place to regulate these sorts of things kept magically powerful younger children from just going off and murdering their siblings, or anything like that. If you could win it in a duel, you deserved it.

All Harry needed to do was challenge his brother for the seat. Easy.

Harry was absolutely sure he was the lesser fighter of the two. He had practiced dueling alongside Louis from the very beginning, basically as soon as they had wands. His brother would always take the lead, while Harry followed up. Before, it had been a source of pride: Harry was his brother's keeper, his shield, one half of a maelstrom on the battlefield.

And now?

…

Throwing the heavy cloak at his brother- with a big blast of air to speed it up- Harry went on the offensive, rushing in behind it.

…

(The idea of this fic would have been a more long-term exploration of a WBWL plot where Harry and his brother do get along at first, but grow apart based on politics. Harry, as second fiddle/heir, doesn't have as much reason to support the cliche, Ancient and Noble Houses style Wizengamot. Instead of two kids who hate each other unreasonably young, it's two young men who grew apart, who love each other, but have wildly different views of the world.)

(I would love to see someone with more talent at emotional beats trying this. Please.)