Harry woke the next day, determined to figure out how to honor his word to his ancestors. He started by thinking of what he knew about the Wizarding World and the Wizengamot. Honestly, it wasn't much. He knew the Wizengamot was like Parliament and the court system combined but he was confused on how it all worked. Was the Wizengamot separate from the Ministry? He didn't know.
He got up, stretched and made his way downstairs to the kitchen to look for Kreacher.
The wizened elf was busy cooking breakfast, but as soon as he saw the young man darken the doorway, he chased him out with a wooden spatula and ordered him to sit in a room he called the Morning Room.
Harry blinked. "Where is that, Kreacher? Why can't I eat in here?"
"Morning Room is where Family Black is eating and spending family time. Is improper for Half-blood Master to eat in the kitchen like a servant." He sneered at the very idea. "Morning Room is being the room on first floor with blue drapes on the walls and flower wallpapers. Kreacher cleaned it last night."
Harry sighed and went to search for the for-mentioned room. He found it easy enough and when he sat down at the oval table, a cup of hot Earl Grey popped into being in front of him along with bowls of sugar and cream and a saucer of lemon slices. He pondered his experience last night with the rings and wondered what he should do next while he absentmindedly made a cup of tea for himself..
Being Lord of anything seemed important, but he had technically been raised middle class in Surrey. What did he know about politics and government? They should offer classes on this at Hogwarts instead of the Goblin Wars Binns was droning about.
Kreacher appeared soon enough with a plate full of eggs and beans and sausage. With triangles of toast, golden from melted butter. Harry's eyes got big. That was a lot of food. Despite Mrs. Weasley's best efforts, Harry still ate very little at a time, a consequence of his childhood and a year of starving in the woods. But Kreacher looked so determined to serve, Harry forced himself to eat as much as he could.
Before Kreacher could pop away, Harry asked him the only thing he could think of. "Does the house have any books about the Wizengamot? Or politics in general? Or how to be a lord?"
The wizened elf stood still and cocked his head. "Yes, Master Black. Lord's Study having all sorts of books and the family library. Kreacher could show Master Black after breakfast."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "That'd be great Kreacher."
The elf nodded and popped away.
Harry had a suspicion that the surly elf would come back if he didn't make progress on his food, so he dug in, setting aside concerns of how to live up to his ancestors for now.
XX
After Harry had eaten as much as he could, Kreacher popped back into the Morning Room. He probably had some elf charm that alerted him. He snapped his fingers and the breakfast things disappeared, presumably to the kitchen below, and gestured for Harry to follow him. The first stop was the Lord's Study on the second floor. It was still dusty, likely not having seen a person since Sirius' grandfather. Harry wasn't sure why the Lordship hadn't passed to Sirius or his father, but maybe the study would give him answers.
He really wanted to explore the study but Kreacher coughed unsubtly and stared pointedly. So they continued up to the fourth floor where the entire space, somewhere he'd never been before, was devoted to a large library full of worn wall sconces and great sweeping windows. The hardwood floors were covered in great big intricate rugs faded by time. Harry had no idea where to get started. He must have looked as clueless as he felt as Kreacher seemed to take pity on him. He stepped to a wooden contraption that seemed to be made of tiny drawers just big enough for a calling card. The elf stood in front of it and declared, " Wizengamot" and some library magic seemed to happen. The drawers vibrated, opening and shutting at high speeds randomly, before a number of cards popped out of their storage, each one listing a book. As the cards came forth, corresponding books on the shelves began to glow, indicating their recommendation.
Harry stared awestruck. He had been attending a magic school and using a magic library for almost seven years now and this was magic unseen. Even though Hermione practically lived in the Hogwarts library, Harry couldn't explain how the books were arranged or how to search for specific books. This might be magic known only to the Blacks or maybe Ancient and Noble families or anyone rich enough to own a library, but Harry was going to use any advantage he could. He was starting from a point way beyond his peers and he desperately needed to catch up. After the experience with the rings and his ancestors, he wanted to prove he could be great as Harry. Not the Boy-Who-Lived or Man-Who-Conquered, just Harry Potter-Black the son of three wixen who were all known to be above average (and wasn't that still a strange concept, that he had three parents.)
With a determined look, he picked up all the recommended books and sat down at a wooden table, spreading out the books and some parchment he had belatedly found in a drawer of the table along with a dark blue fountain pen Kreacher had acquired from somewhere in the house and sat down to study. He would prove himself a good heir to his families.