A Lord Lordes
Longbottom Hall, 31st December 2003
“What did you do two days ago, Harry?”
“Hey, I’ve just arrived! No ‘hello’ for me?”
“Nope. Not now. You put Zabini into a tizzy. What happened?”
“Whoa. Zabini? Quite a record, that.”
“Come on, Harry. Stop dilly-dallying. Whatever it is between the two of you, you know very well that he’s a rather unruffled blogue, most of the times. And he wasn’t, two days ago, just a day after the two of you vanished to do who-knows-what.”
“And they often emphasised that they would like to be called a ‘they’, y’know, Nev.”
“Harry….”
“Ahem. Well, well, I was learning some spiffy newfound magic from them, really. And then I practised it two days ago.”
“I wish to clarify, Harry…. You studied a new branch of magic in just one day, and the very next day you experimented with it?”
“Umm. Yes? – Ow! What did you hit me for?”
“That. Is. Reckless. Even for a Gryffindor!”
“Hey! We were uniquely qualified for that particular branch of magic! Trust me!”
“Nope, not going to trust you on this… or many other things.”
“You wound me.”
“Better wounded and alive than gruesomely dead and bringing everyone else down with you. – Don’t huff at me, Harry. You railed at Hermione for her reckless decision, bonding with Arga, and now you did it yourself. What would she say to that if she knew?”
“Well, that I am a hypocrite, pro’ly.”
“More than that, I dare say. – But… really, Harry, you can’t just do something like that, you know. You are in charge of many lives, unlike Hermione, or even Justin. Justin’s only in charge of the lives of his current patients, but you… no. And thrusting your responsibility so summarily on him won’t work, you know. – Yes, I know about the blood and your instructions to him. Zabini got us all together to try to find out what you were doing. And….”
Sighing slow and long and loudly, Neville regards me with the same deadly intensity as Zabini did, when I told them I was going to tinker with the Song on my own. What an unpleasant déjà vu.
And then, he continues, with his eyes never leaving mine and his words hitting like a particularly enthusiastic hammer on an unsuspecting finger each time, “And, like this, you were toying with the lives of your people, Harry. No, listen – they depend on you: the house-elves, the Residents, even the family that you said have been taking care of your Washington townhouse for almost three generations. They depend on you to be there; not to hold their hands all the way, not necessarily for the security either, but for their wellbeing, to be their leader, to be the head of their collective family. You can get Justin to take care of the buildings and lands, if he agrees, but you can’t dump the people on him. It wouldn’t be fair for both parties. You are their lord, their protector; not Justin, not me, not anybody else. Muggle lordships are ceremonial nowadays, as I understand it, but Wizarding ones are not, especially for big clans like yours. They love you, Harry, and they don’t demand your physical presence nearby everytime, but you must be there so they can go on doing their duties and living their lives, with the happy knowledge that you’ll be there to lead them or to help them if they need it, or even to receive what good things they’d like to share with you. And you can’t be there if you’re dead.”
I look away, breaking the staring contest, caving in first.
I can’t deny the points he makes.
Nor the fact that I am mostly ignorant about those points. Andy taught me mostly about how to act lordly and how to manage the various properties, not to be an actual lord!
“Did your gran teach you this?” I inquire, mostly to buy time for me to regain my equilibrium and in the hope of diverting his outrage.
He gives me a knowing, exasperated look in answer… but he does calm down a little.
“No,” he snorts. “From the paintings of my ancestors, mostly the oldest ones. They’re better company than my living relatives, most of the times.”
He resumes glaring sternly at me, then, and insists, “You’ve got family, Harry, a big one. Are you going to abandon them?”
After a loud but brief exhale of breath, he continues before I can argue back, “If you can’t view them as family yet, maybe the possible profit might change your mind. My House’s crops are the best and most numerous thus far in the international market, though we didn’t increase the greenhouses and farms significantly, and it’s just because I’ve been paying much more attention on the house-elves who work there outside of work time.”
I glare back at him for that, for the first time since he confronted me, which was just after we took a seat on his porch.
“You ever saw me mistreat a house-elf?” I demand.
He shakes his head and huffs again, clearly impatient. “Not the point, Harry,” he insists, then swipes a hand to shut me up. “The point is, don’t sell your people to anybody… and they’re going to think you’ve sold them away if they suddenly find that they’re answering to anybody else. Imagine yourself as one of them, Harry; do you want that to happen to you?”
I cringe.
“You befriend them without being told to; that’s already steps further than what I did with Longbottom house-elves.” His voice and face soften. “Now, you just need to keep them, and you do that by not risking your life and wellbeing for anything.” His countenance turns into the quietly sympathetic one that I was rather used to during my Hogwarts days, then, as he adds, “I truly like Teal’c, Harry, from the little time that we had to know him, and I want to help his people, too. But you already have your own people to think about; and whatever you do for these new ones, you shouldn’t discard the ones that are already there.”
Well. Damn.
He does have a point.
“I’m never normal in my life, aren’t I?” I grouse quietly.
He shakes his head, smiling sadly. “Not a chance, and not just because being a lord is your birthright. You should be glad of it, though. Normal like me is somewhat boring.”
“Boring, eh?” I grin a little. “What happened with ‘the Hero of Hogwarts’?”
He raises an eyebrow and grins back… predatorily. “Want me to lock you in my Greenhouse Three for a quick chat with my babies there, Harry? I’ve just received a shipment of very, very good specimen….”
“Erm….” I quickly rise to my feet. “Thanks for inviting me for a chat…. Bye!”
And, without further ado, I take off to the nearest Floo-capable fireplace. – I love that blogue, even when he’s berating me like what he did to me just now, but I’m not having any “quick chat” with his babies ever again!