Harrys Tea Time Learning Experience
Harry and Griselda sat in the house's sitting room, a vast array of Teas and biscuits having all but appeared out of thin air at their entrance. Griselda was unabashedly digging into a platter of sandwiches rather feverishly while Harry for his part only nibbled at a biscuit.
He was far too question filled to have much of an appetite. For Harry Potter, curiosity often outweighed all else, it was a dangerous habit really. At least that's what Harry thought he would tell anyone if they ever asked, not that they did.
“Can you tell me about my parents ?” Harry asked, desperation tingeing his voice, he knew it was perhaps too much to ask.
“Unfortunately I cannot.” Griselda sighed. “They must have died when you were a baby, seeing as you can’t remember them.”
“How did you know about the potter's name then?”
“Well, for one. You. And for another because it’s a pureblood house, The Noble House of Potter.”
“What.” Harry’s mouth hung openly at the ridiculously silliness of what she had just said. “I'm nobility?”
“Not really the wizarding world did away with that about a century ago.”
“Oh…”
“It’s a shame really, I’ve always wanted to marry an Earl.” Griselda winked and smiled at him coyly through her thick white lashes . Well, at least as coy as a nine year old can look.
“Who’s an Earl?”
“Well, you would have been.”
“Wait what?” Harry was shocked… him an earl, how utterly ridiculous of a notion.
“I read in the book Pureblood Pedigree By Ignacia Ilsmore, that the house of Potter was an earldom from the 12th century onwards. Though…,” Griselda concluded, “their fortune was really made by your grandfather Fleamont Potter with his potions empire.”
“My grandfather ?” Harry asked curiously, after a lifetime of being forbidden to ask questions, having someone offer up information was too good to pass up.
“Yes, he was a great man, you have much in your lineage to be proud of. He’s not the only one either there was Lord Castor Potter, Head of the…” Griselda chattered on, listing off Potter Wizards and Witches who had distinguished herself. But unbeknownst to her however, Harry had begun to tune her out.
White noise thrummed in his ears, Harry was lost in an emotional tidal wave as his despair and insecurities fought actively with hope. “That’s not possible.”
Harry felt sick, on the verge of tears really, he was just lowly Harry Potter forced to live in 4 Privet drive with his mean uncaring relatives. He couldn’t be special, he couldn’t be magical, he couldn’t be proud. He was a ship lost at sea, he was a house with no foundation. Have no doubt, Harry was as shaky as can be.
Sensing his emotional turmoil, Griselda shuffled over to grab his hand in hers, slowly her warmth flowed to Harry, filling him with its comforting energy.
“Why would you think that?”
“No reason” Harry mumbled, unwilling to admit to her his home life, it was embarrassing enough being so bitterly weak.
“Oh come on Harry, I’m a friend. You can tell me.”
“My relatives, the Dursleys, they hate me.” Harry said quietly but almost like ripping off a plaster, he found it actually was rather soothing.
“Oh gosh okay, are they muggles?” Griselda’s voice was sharp and almost hard. The admittance of the boy before her had been rather shocking and not at all in a pleasant manner.
“Yes” Harry whispered…
“How the bloody hell did you of all people end up with THEM?l”
“Who else would I go to?” Harry said forlornly. I don’t have any other family. The Dursleys don’t want me but we had no choice since there’s no one else who wants me.”
“Bullshite! I’m sure there’s some potter relatives out there. Maybe the blacks.”
“What about you?”
“Oh I doubt it.” Griselda sighed….”I am pureblood but my family is originally from Europe and only recently, in the last fifty years, came here. We aren't quite so prestigious to be marrying into a family of such class, completely different levels of society really!”
“Why did they move?” Money I suppose, I think my grandfather married a British squib to give life to their dynasty and moved here. All arranged and proper no doubt, though it was a scandal of the ages, a pureblood wizard marrying a squib!”
“What’s a squib?” It sounded so incredibly silly and foreign that at first Harry had thought he had misheard her. After letting it roll off his tongue however, and without any correction, Harry was confirmed to not be mistaken.
Griselda explained it calmly, once again adopting that very recital tone as if reading from a book. “A witch or wizard born to magical parents who cannot do magic themselves. Or more commonly one who possesses so little magical prowess that it cannot be accurately measured by any manner.”
“Oh, that sounds…” Harry wasn't quite sure how to put it… “Awful really, in a world of magic…being unable to use it…”
Griselda grimaced, “exactly Harry, there’s nothing worse in wizarding society than to be a squib. It’s one of the greatest dishonours and humiliations to prominent families.” She looked sad now, remembering something rather unfortunate and unpleasant.
“Why’s that?”
“They think it taints the bloodline, bloody fools. It's really just an excuse to dispose of what they see as a burden, its very very hard for a non magical person to survive in our society, too many essential components of daily life rely heavily on magic, at even the most basic level.”
“Like what?”
“Travel, communication, cooking, employment and business opportunities. I'm sure Harry, most purebloods barely even know how to wipe their arse without magic. It's so ingrained in daily life it is almost unimaginable to not have it.”
“Oh…how does cooking use magic?”
Griselda grinned and drew in a breath, as if preparing to talk for a while…”It's rather fascinating actually, most witches get used to stirring and chopping with magic, which of course transfers at some level the tiniest bit of magic into the food, making it more nourishing for magical people. It's why even if it would be nice to allow employment opportunities, non magical werewolves or vampires or even squibs can't get jobs as cooks or housemaids. Not that anyone's going to hire them anyway.”
“There's vampires and werewolves?”
“Why yes Harry!” Griselda smiled, baring her rather pointy incisors at him. “Rawrrrrr! I am one!” She then began to laugh, obviously joking, soon Harry too was laughing. It was nice to have fun, it was nice to have a friend. Especially one as playful and smart as Griselda. It was with that that Harry took his leave, with a smile on his face Harry returned to number 4 Privet drive. Rather unusually however he was undaunted and happy, not even the dreariness of the weather or coming unpleasantness of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would ruin his mood.