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August 14, 1993/Leaky Cauldron 1 Diagon Alley, London, England

Harry Potter sighs as he sets his ink bottle and quill onto the bedside table with his History of Magic book. Looking down at the finished essay, he blows gently on the still-drying ink. Laying it out flat so the ink could finish drying, he considers the summer events. A week has passed since his accident with Aunt Marge Keeping in mind the Minister’s request for him to stay close to the Leaky Cauldron, he has spent most of the week indoors, completing his various summer assignments. This completes his second revision of his assignments, and he's pretty sure he can’t do anything to make them better. He’s also started to feel bored, without anything else to do.

Eyeing his more than completed summer work, he gets up and heads towards the door, deciding to explore the alley. Opening the door to head downstairs, he takes a step forward before quickly plastering himself to the closing door, as he nearly walks directly into an older boy.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologizes, “I forgot to check the hall.” He drops his eyes in embarrassment.

“No problem,” The other says, offering his hand. “I was so excited about the response to my Apprenticeship search that I didn’t look around me.” Harry blinks looking up in confusion, as he shakes the offered hand.

“What’s an Apprenticeship search?” He asks. The other looks at him in confusion for a moment, his almond shaped eyes crinkled.

“Generally the year head of whichever magical academy you attend will discuss this with you when choosing electives.” The other starts, “It’s generally part of the first-year Introductory information.”

Harry stares. “I’m going into my third year at Hogwarts and I don’t recall anyone saying something about Apprenticeships.” The boys’ eyes widen significantly and he looks Harry over critically.

“Well, Hogwarts is the premier school of Magic for Great Britian, so they may do things differently, but Oberon, and Tationa start preparing you for your future apprenticeships fairly early.”

“So an apprenticeship is something expected?” Harry asks, and the other boy twitches slightly.

“Yes and no,” he answers. “It all depends on the type of Apprenticeship. Most schools like Hogwarts will help you set up an apprenticeship for whatever further education you desire after graduation.”

“Like University?” He asks.

“Sort of,” the other answers. “General Masteries in Charms or Transfiguration can be achieved through the magical University of Colleges. Masteries are generally reserved for those studying more focused branches of magic. For those seeking really obscure branches of magic or multiple masteries, Gringotts offers apprenticeship searches based on the ability and aptitude tests they perform. Of course, being one of the premier magic schools in Europe, Hogwarts doesn’t have many students who need them. Most Hogwarts students, being nobility, will take up the family mantles rather than furthering their education, and those that do, will apprentice under family, who know what they need to be taught.”

“What do you mean, Nobility?” Harry asks, making the other blink.

“Muggleborn?

“Muggle raised.” He answers warily.

“Your Wixen Parent never explained?” The other asks, before blushing. “Where are my manners, Malachi Evans. Oberon Academy 6th year student.” Harry looks at the other in surprise. He’s gotten more than a little used to not having to introduce himself. Generally people already know more about him than he knows about himself.

“Harry Potter,” he says, making the other bot look at him in surprise before blanching when he spots the scar. His hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

A door down the hall opens, interrupting whatever Malachi was going to say. Three people walk into the hall, the youngest of whom bolts to Malachi, wrapping his arms around the older boy. Harry blinks at the boy, who is about Harry’s height, only slightly smaller. His eyes, however, surprise Harry, as green eyes meet the same green shade. He's never met anyone else with his eyes.

The second figure is a man who shares Malachi’s slim build, and tall frame. His hair is slightly straighter than Malachi’s however. The last figure, a woman with reddish gold hair, has the slight curl he sees in Malachi’s hair, though the color is different.

“Is something the matter?” The man asks, glancing at the woman beside him.

“No pa, I almost ran into Heir Potter returning from Gringotts.” Malachi answers. The man stiffens, glancing at Harry.

“Merry met, Heir Potter.” The man says.

“Merry met?” he starts uncertainly, before focusing back on Malachi. “Heir Potter?” he asks, “Does that have something to do with that nobility you mentioned?” The man raises an eyebrow as Malachi gapes.

“I understand you not knowing about Apprenticeship searches, bein raised by muggles and all, but not knowing yer own title. Barmy, what has your Magical Guardian been teaching you?” Malachi wheezes out, appalled.

“Malachi,” the man admonishes, before turning to Harry. “Adrien Evans, Malachi is my son.” He introduces himself before taking a hard look at Harry. “Malachi’s words may be uncouth, but I do have to wonder what you have been taught if you haven’t been made aware of your future titles or place in our society.” Harry winces, hunching his shoulders. It seems he’s stumbled onto one more thing to be judged on.

“It's not your fault,” Mr. Evans says, as he kneels down in front of Harry, setting his hands on Harry’s shoulders and making him look up. “You can’t be expected to look for or ask about something you know nothing about.” The man tries to reassure. “Join us for dinner, my wife and I will be more than pleased to help direct you to the resources you need to cover any gaps in your knowledge.” The man insists.

Harry nods, blinking back tears. He’s not stupid; he’s noticed over the past two years that there are things that others around him seem to understand, but no one has taken time to explain anything to him. Feeling off-centered, he follows the family of four down to the Leaky’s main room. The Evanses chose a booth in the back corner away from most of the other patrons. Harry sits at the edge of the booth nervously shifting in his seat, waiting for the adults to glare or tell him off for sitting so close. Adrien and Malachi smile at him before Adrien waves over Tom, the barkeep.

“Any specials?” Mr. Evans asks.

“We’ve got a good Sheppard’s pie on tonight, some bangers and mash, along with our usual fish and chips.” Tom answers.

“Ooh, I want the Fish and Chips,” the younger boy says excitedly.

“I’ll take the same,” Malachi confirms, “what about you, Harry?” he asks.

“I could do with the fish and chips.” He answers.

“Wonderful,” Mr. Evans says. “Three servings of fish and chips, and two Sheppard’s pie.” He orders.

“They’ll be out shortly,” Tom answers, before heading back towards the kitchen. Mr. Evans turns to Harry, who shifts nervously in his seat.

“Now that we’ve all ordered, what do you want to start with?” He asks, and the woman next to him starts softly laughing.

“How about we finish introductions before you overwhelm the boy with all the knowledge in that brain of yours?”

“Aah, yes, forgive me, Heir Potter, this is my wife, Adeline Evans, Lady Evans, in formal discussions, and our youngest, Marcus.” He introduces, and Marus’s oddly familiar smile catches Harry.

“I’m Marcus,” The boy to Harry’s right says excitedly. “I’m Eleven. I’m about to start Oberon, like my big brother. What school are you going to?”

Harry nods. “It’s good to meet you,” Harry says, reaching out to ruffle the slightly younger boy’s hair. Marcus scowls at Harry momentarily before smiling, laughing at Harry’s soft pout. “I’m about to start my third year at Hogwarts.”

“Oh! I could have gone there.” Marcus says, smiling, “But I wanted to stay with Malachi.”

“Umm,” Harry says, not sure how to answer. “What’s Oberon? I mean, I’ve sort of figured out it’s a school, but what's the difference?”

“That’s a good place to start.” Mr. Evans smiles. “There are a few layers of schooling offered in the Wizarding World. There are basic schools similar to Muggle public schools that most Wixen attend. These teach students basic magical abilities, and focus more on non-foci, focused magic.”

“Non-foci, focused magic, what is that?” Harry asks, and Mr. Evans' face turns grave.

“Not every Wixen is born with the same amount of magic.” He starts.

“Like squibs?” Harry asks. “My friends and I discovered that the Hogwarts caretaker was one of last year.”

“Sort of. Every living creature has a magical core, the Muggles call it lifeforce, or the will to live. This is why Muggles are tier zero. They only have enough magic to keep their hearts beating, not enough to use for anything else.” Mrs. Evans answers.

“Squibs are different; they are classed as tier one Wixen. They have extra magic within their cores that could be used, but they aren’t born with the magical pathways to channel it through a foci.” Mr. Evans explains.

“Tier two and three Wixen attend the basic community schools. This is about a third of the magical world. Tier two Wixen are generally called Hedge witches/wizards. Their cores would be exhausted after casting just a few of the spells you’ll learn this year.” He continues.

“Most of them will complete their schooling with the W.A.N.D.S. test in their fifth year. They may continue with potions or herbology if they show enough aptitude, but most of them will start basic apprenticeships that prepare them for the career of their choice.” Mrs. Evans says sweetly.

“Tier three Wixen or Savant’s can cast at a slightly higher level, allowing many of them to continue their education and take their O.W.L.s. Their apprenticeships will prepare them for jobs that are a bit more magically intensive.”

“How do you know you tier?” Harry asks.

“It generally follows your parents' rank.” Mr. Evans answers. “If the bearer is a Tier three, and the sire is a Tier two, then more than likely any children will generally be Tier three unless there are complications.”

“Generally?” Harry questions.

“Let’s talk about the other Core Tiers first.” Mrs. Evans says as Tom brings out their food.

“Tier four Wixen are generally referred to as Wizards or Witches.” Mr. Evans continues looking pointedly at Harry’s plate.

“Everything you learn at Hogwarts should be possible for them to learn. Additionally, Wixen of this tier will generally bond with a personal foci.”

“Wixen tier four and above are required to attend one of the advanced schools. Of these schools, the most prestigious are Oberon, Tatiana, and Hogwarts. Attendance at any of these three schools is by invitation only. Tatiana and Oberon generally issue invites based on the aptitude tests they offer in May and June. Invites are also generally offered to students of alumni, or to those who have had exceptionally strong accidental magic.” Mr. Evans continues.

“Hogwarts only issues invites to the Muggleborn children who had the earliest accidental magic, and children of Alumni, who are part of the Nobility, have Noble connections, or are descended from the Sacred 28.” Mrs. Evans says before Harry can ask, making him blush.

“Now the important thing to remember is that the ultimate strength of a Wixen's core depends on the Wixen themselves.” She continues. “A Wixen born with a Tier Two core will never have a Tier Three core, but with hard work and application, they can certainly get close. This growth can also be passed onto any child they may have, allowing two parents with Tier Two cores to have children with Tier Three cores.”

“It can also go the other way.” Mr. Evan says, making Harry pause before he finishes off his fish.

“Tier Five Wixen or enchanters should have no problem with any spell taught at Hogwarts.” He continues. “Additionally, their cores should have an innate talent or gift for one or more types of magic. Enchanters, generally can go on to Master’s studies with very little issues.”

“Should?” Harry asks, noticing the wording.

“Should,” Mrs. Evans confirms. “A Wixen born with an Enchanters Core that doesn’t challenge their core, or maintain it with proper application of their studies, will find that their core has not reached its full potential. Some Wixen who’ve slacked off, and been lazy in their studies, who entered schooling with core’s that were expected to be Tier Five, Six, or even Seven, left school with Cores that only grew to level Five.”

“Tier Six Wixen are commonly called Sorcerers and can master some Wandless or Foci-less magic. Wixen with Tier Seven Core are referred to as Arcanists, Tier Eight as Sage, Tier Nine as Mage, Tier ten as Magus, and Tier Eleven as Magister. The last five Core Tiers encompass less than ten percent of the population. With the last two tiers being less than one percent of the population.” Mr. Evans says.

“Headmaster Dumbledore’s core sits firmly in the Arcanist range, estimated to be either a High or Master Arcanist. Your father’s core was rumored to be either low Arcanist, or Sorcerer. Most place him as low Sorcerer range. Your Mother’s most deride as High Enchantress at best, but there are those who say that her core was definitely in the Sorcerer range.”

“So, more core should be somewhere in the Sorcerer range?” He asks.

“If both your parents were in fact Sorcerer’s than your core would also have Sorcerer potential.” Mrs. Evans says. “However, if others are right, and your bearer, Lilly was only an Enchantress, while your sire, James was a Sorcerer, you may only have Enchanter potential. When a Wixen parents have a core gap, like that, the core power of their children can be limited, or increased. At the higher core Tiers, Core potential becomes a lot more complicated.”

“The important thing,” Mr. Evans says, “ is that your core's potential at this point is yours to take care of. You make the decisions from here.”

“Hard work, perseverance, and keeping yourself healthy will all help you increase your Core’s potential.” Mrs. Evans says, her eyes glancing between Harry and Marcus, who has curled himself into Harry’s side, eyes watching his parents.

“So how does this tie into you calling me Heir Potter?” he asks, sitting up as he suddenly remembers his earlier confusion.

“You mentioned that it was one of the things that Hogwarts looked for in those it invited.”

“I’m tired,” Marcus says, before either of his parents can answer, and Harry instinctively wraps an arm around the younger boy. “Can we Harry more tomorrow, Auntie?” The boy's words make Harry look up at the two Evanses.

“We can wait for tomorrow.” Harry says, looking warily from Marcus to the Evanses.

“Malachi, was a hard pregnancy, their were complications. We were lucky that Malachi was born with a strong core potential, but I was warned that any other children would not be so lucky, and that further pregnancies may affect not only my health but core strength.” Mrs. Evan says, looking towards the two of them.

“After Malachi left for Oberon however, the house got lonely.” Mr. Evans starts. “When Gringotts contacted us later that year requesting us to take in a child of an allied house that had been orphaned in the war, we accepted. Ever since Marcus has been our treasure, even if the Evans name is only temporary.”

“Temporary?” Harry asks, suddenly feeling defensive.

“It ties into Noble titles, ranks and how it all works. It’ll wait till morning.” Mrs. Evans says, making Harry relax slightly.

“Uncle and Auntie would give it to me permanently if they could.” Marcus happily chirps at him, blinking sleepily. “They feel almost as safe as you.” He mumbles, burrowing his head back into Harry’s side. Harry momentarily blinks owlishly at the younger boy before Mr. Evans picks him up. Marcus squirms for a moment, reaching for Harry before he relaxes. Heading up to his own bed, Harry can’t forget Marcus’s words. ‘They feel almost as safe as you.’

If he’s learned anything over the last two years, Harry’s learned to listen to his magic. It hadn’t been wrong on the warnings it had given off about Quirrell or Lockhart. He’d eventually come to understand the twisting apprehension/hostility he’d felt from it when it came to Ginny. Home and Safe, however, wasn't something he was used to feeling from his magic.

Around Malachi, his magic whispered that same tense sort of safe, and protection, that he got from the twins, though with an odd familiarity that had him instinctively relaxing and wanting to trust the older boy. Marcus however, Marcus made his magic scream protect, safe, protect that he’d never felt before.

As he curled up to sleep a dreamless sleep without any nightmares about the chamber for the first time in weeks, he wondered if that was what it was like to have a younger sibling.

August 15, 1993/Leaky Cauldron 1 Diagon Alley, London, England

Harry woke feeling well-rested. A smile settles across his face as he joins the Evanses as they head down to the alley for breakfast. The little café isn’t far from the Leaky, but Harry is still surprised by how clean the place is.

“Has anyone shown you around the Alley or its surroundings?” Mrs. Evans asks, taking in his look of wonder as they settle into the small breakfast nook.

“Hagrid took me through the Alley for school supplies, before first year, and the Weasley’s brought me last year, but I’ve never really been allowed to look at anything that wasn’t school supplies,” he answers. “Have I missed something?”

“So you’ve never left Diagon?” Malachi asks, looking surprised.

“There’s more?” Harry asks, feeling curious.

“The great square is the best.” Marcus nearly shouts, before Mr. Evans quickly hushes him.

“Diagon Alley runs through the center of the great square and has all the shops a Hogwarts student needs, but it's hardly representative of all that the Great Square offers.” Mrs. Evans scoffs. “Our portkey to Greece doesn’t leave until Friday. We can show you some of the Great Square afterwards.”

“I’d like that,” Harry answers, glancing towards the quiet Mr. Evans.

“Da’s rather useless without a cup of coffee.” Malachi whispers, making Harry nod.

“In the meantime, you had questions on the Wizarding World nobility?” Mrs. Evans asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says, “Malachi, and Mr. Evans call me Heir Potter, why? And you both mentioned last night that most of Hogwarts students were nobility, are you meaning like the house of Lords or something?”

“Not exactly.” Malachi blanches slightly.

“Queen Elisabeth, like many of her forefather’s only rules the nonmagical parts of the UK.” He says.

“We’re apart of Avalon.” Marcus says, and Harry pauses.

“Like King Arthur Avalon?” he asks.

“Yes, King Arthur, though the story is very different.” Mrs. Evans answers, sipping her morning tea, while Mr. Evans starts on a second cup of coffee. “England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland are each states of the greater Kingdom of Avalon.”

“The Blessed and Imperial Empire of Avalon stretches across nearly all of Europe and North America.” Mr. Evans says.

“Wait, Blessed and Imperial? I’m confused.” Harry admits, looking between the two adults.

“The two terms both refer to Avalon.” Mr. Evans starts. “They are used interchangeably depending on what one is talking about.”

“Kingdom is generally used in polite company unless you are making a point, in which case its full technical title is generally used.” Mrs. Evans smiles as a plate of breakfast is placed in front of each of them.

“The Imperial and Venerable House of Pendragon rules Avalon, assisted by the four lesser Royal Houses. I won’t go into them quite yet, but they are the utmost powers of Avalon. Below the royals, Avalon and its territories are governed by a complicated governmental system.”

“Complicated?” Harry asks.

“Yes, so let's start at the absolute basics and work our way up.” Mrs. Evans says, shooting him a light smirk. “Do you have any Muggleborn friends, Harry?”

“Yeah, Hermione,” Harry says.

“Good, she’ll make a good example.” Mrs. Evans says. “Your friend Hermione, if she genuinely is a Muggleborn, is ultimately a commoner, with no house or title behind her. This means her prospects after graduation are limited. She can do several things to help her prospects, but we will focus on two of those things right now. Either she will open doors by marrying into nobility, or she will undergo the rituals to be recognized as first-generation magical.”

“First Generation magical?” Harry asks.

“Yes, a first-generation magical is either the first Witch or Wizard born to their bloodline, or a Muggleborn who is of the Witch or Wizard Core Tier or above, that has proven themselves a member of magical society, by undergoing the appropriate ceremonies or rituals.” Mrs. Evans says looking at Harry coldly.

“Your mother shocked many by doing both.” Mr. Evans says, finally looking less like a zombie. “Its why you are technically a pureblood.”

“I am?” He says, surprised.

“Yes, if Lilly had only married into the Potter line, you’d be a Half-blood, but she was recognized as a first gen before she married James Potter, so you are a pureblood.” Mrs. Evans confirms.

“By undergoing the appropriate rituals and ceremonies, to be recognized as first gen, a witch or wizard is telling the world that they understand the gift that they have been given, and that they will not turn their backs on it. In exchange, the magical world gives them the title of first-generation purebloods.”

“But…” Harry starts.

“It's fallen out of favor in recent years.” Mr. Evans interrupts, making Harry look at him. “Additionally, as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Dumbledore has made it practically taboo for anyone to mention it on school grounds. Its one of the reasons that Marcus is attending Oberon.”

“I see…” Harry says uncertainly.

“Returning to our discussion.” Mrs. Evans redirects. “Every magical line in the world, began at some point with someone who was a first generation magical. That first generation magical marries another first generational magical, creating a second generation magical.”

“So long as that second generation magical marries either a second generation magical or a first generation magical, their children will be third generation magicals. If that third-generation magical marries another first, second, or third-generation magical, their children are fourth-generation magicals. Upon proving this unbroken line of witches or wizards all sharing the same magical lineage and name, a new magical family is formed.”

“Every few generations, provided the family hasn’t been absorbed by another family or house and they are still an unbroken line, they will receive an honorific like honorable or elder, that relays this growth.” Mr. Evans continues before taking a long gulp of coffee.

“At fifteen generations, so long as the requirements are still met, a Family becomes a House.” Mrs. Evans says.

“So, Houses are Noble?” Harry asks.

“All Nobles are born to a Noble House, but not all Houses are Noble. Houses don’t become Nobility until they’ve reached fifty generations or 1,000 years of unbroken existence.” Mrs. Evans answers.

“There are, of course, ways to surpass this, as some houses like the house of Malfoy have only been in the Isles for a couple of centuries. They, however, married the heiress of an older house, changed the name, and absorbed the strength of the House. That method of advancement, however, is frowned upon and difficult to maintain.” Mr. Evans continues.

“Why?” Harry asks, as he finishes his breakfast.

“As a lineage becomes a Family and the Family becomes a House, they form a set of laws, traditions, customs, and rituals unique to that Bloodline. As it grows stronger, it becomes a more sentient force. This Sentient force is what aides the Family in becoming a House, setting the House’s words, sigil, and such. While not every member of the House will be born with the family gift, every family member will be born with an innate talent for the family's traditional magics.”

“When House Malfoy usurped the older House, it lost that House’s Family magic.” Mrs. Evans says. “Many of the family's vassals and allies will be bonded to the family through contracts based on the family magics. Without that power, you're left with an empty title, as the Malfoys discovered. The title gave them something to build upon, but they are far weaker than most of the Houses of similar rank.”

“So, Noble Houses are just Families that are really old,” Harry says.

“Not exactly, or I should say not all of them.” Mrs. Evans answers. “In private settings the House is generally referred to as House, the Family Name.”

“Like House Malfoy.” Harry responds.

“Exactly, in public or formal settings however, they are referred to by their titled reference. Titled References are generally two-part, the first part refers to the age, or rank of the House. House Malfoy, like House Weasley, are Ancient.”

“The Ancient House of Weasley?” he asks.

“Exactly,” Mr. Evans nods. “The secondary reference generally reveals the strength of their House. This Title is always referred to secondly unless the second title is that of Royal or one of its Ranks.”

“So, the Imperial in Imperial and Revered House of Pendragon isn’t about Age?” he asks.

“No,” Mr. Evans answers with a small smile. “If the circumstances are such, a Royal House's rank must be presented, their Royal Rank is generally presented in the place of its Age title. If the Royal House has no secondary title, the age title is stated second. An example reference would be: Royal and Ancient House of… Otherwise, the secondary title is always stated second.”

“For example, our House is commonly referred to as House Evans, but when officially presented we are the Traditional and Gifted House of Evans.”

“Traditional and Gifted?” he scrunches up his nose, suddenly feeling lost.

“Traditional denotes our age, 62 generations.” Mrs. Evans says, and Harry can hear the pride in her voice. “Gifted is one of the three types of secondary titles. First, you have the Monetary or administrative titles; these titles are afforded according to the House's wealth, as the House's monetary growth technically correlates to the House’s administrative abilities. First, you have Noble, followed by Most Noble, Utmost Noble, and Venerable.”

“Then we have the Battle or Blood Titles, these titles are ostentatiously gained through the defense of one's lands. First, you have Adept, followed by Practiced, Hardened, Veteran, and finally Bloodied.”

“Lastly, we have the Crafted titles. These titles are gifted to lines who have crafted new magic, or developed new magical abilities and artifacts unique to their bloodline. The first of these is Gifted, followed by Versed, Mastered, Revered, and Graced.” Mr Evans says, watching Harry.

“Administrative titles are only used if they are a tier higher than any other of the Houses titles.” Mrs. Evans continues, “Battle Titles replace Administrative titles of the same rank or below, while Crafted titles are always used if the other secondary titles are the same level or below. Houses that have gained a Crafted title will sometimes place it above all other secondary titles, even if they are ranked above.”

“Why?” Harry asks, “wouldn’t they want to put the strongest title on display?”

“Generally to warn other Houses of the power they have at their fingertips.” Mrs. Evans answers.

“Is…” Harry starts, suddenly feeling quiet. “My father was James, is Potter?” he hesitates.

“I would answer that question,” Mrs. Evans answers, “but I think there is someone better to answer that question.”

“Who?”

“Your account Manager at Gringotts, he’ll know just about everything about the Potters that you need to know.” She answers, and he glances at Malachi, who nods. Before he can say anything, however, Marcus is in front of him, grabbing his hand.

“The Goblins just look scary, if you follow the rules, they can’t harm you.”

“I’m not so good at following the rules.” He admits to the boy, who gasps.

“I’m not either.” Marcus whispers, “Maybe we can go together?” he asks.

“Not this time.” Mrs. Evans ruffles the eleven-year-old's hair. “I need you and your father to run me an errand. Harry and I will meet you three at the puzzle shop.” Marcus squeals before trying to hide the reaction.

“Do you like the puzzle shop? It's the best shop in the Great Square,” Marcus says.

“I’ve never been.” He admits, and Marcus frowns.

“We’ll have to fix that.” The boy says assuredly.

“After Gringotts.” Mr. Evans confirms, and Marcus nods, before the three head down the street.

“Do you have your key?” Mrs. Evans asks, as they begin walking down Diagon.

“No ma’am.” He answers, and has to remind himself not flinch when she grimaces.

“Perhaps that’s for the best.” Mrs. Evans says, as she leads the way towards Gringotts.