The Great Hall was already lively with morning chatter as Harry picked at his breakfast, his thoughts wandering. The scent of toast and eggs filled the air, but he barely noticed. He had other things on his mind.
Snape, his strange dreams, and the nagging feeling that there were things about his past he still didn't know.
"Harry?" Hermione's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Hm?" He blinked, looking up.
"You're barely eating," she observed, frowning slightly.
Harry shrugged. "Just thinking. I might go visit Hagrid after this."
Neville raised an eyebrow. "What for?"
Harry hesitated. "I'm not sure. I just… I feel like there's still a lot about my parents that I don't know. Hagrid was the one who brought me to the Dursleys—he must know something, right?"
Hermione and Neville exchanged a look, but neither of them objected. If Harry felt like there were missing pieces to his past, then it made sense to start with someone who had been there from the beginning.
Not long after, Harry made his way down to Hagrid's hut, the crisp morning air clearing some of the fog in his mind. Smoke curled from the chimney, and Fang's deep barks rang out as Harry knocked on the door.
"Comin'!"
A moment later, Hagrid pulled the door open, his face breaking into a grin. "Mornin', Harry! What's got yeh up and about this early?"
Harry stepped inside, warmth immediately wrapping around him as Hagrid moved to put the kettle on. "Just had some things on my mind," he admitted, sitting down at the worn wooden table.
Hagrid handed him a mug of tea and sat across from him. "Somethin' about yer parents?"
Harry hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. I've been thinking about them a lot lately. I know the big things—how they fought against Voldemort, how they died protecting me. But there's still so much I don't know. And it feels like no one ever really tells me the details."
Hagrid's face softened. "Ah, Harry… Yeh know they were real special, yer mum and dad. Kind, brave, always lookin' out for others. They were the best sort of people."
Harry's throat felt tight, but he pushed forward. "I keep hearing how great they were, but what about… the people they didn't get along with?" His fingers tightened slightly around the warm mug. "Like Snape?"
Hagrid sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "Snape, eh? Thought yeh might ask about him at some point." He ran a hand through his thick beard. "Well… I dunno everythin', but I know they didn't get on. Least, not once they got older."
Harry leaned forward. "Did they ever get along?"
Hagrid gave him a long look before nodding. "Aye, when they were kids. Yer mum an' Snape grew up near each other. He was the one who told her she was a witch."
Harry blinked. "He was?"
"Yeah." Hagrid sighed. "It's a long story, Harry. They were close once. But things changed when they got to Hogwarts. Different houses, different friends. And well… James and his lot weren't exactly friendly with Snape, I'll tell yeh that."
Harry looked down, remembering the vision—the memories he had felt through Snape's eyes. "I saw some of it," he admitted quietly. "James bullied him."
Hagrid didn't look surprised. "Yer dad could be a bit of a troublemaker. He and Sirius were always gettin' up to something, and… well, they had their differences with Snape." He shook his head. "I won't lie to yeh, Harry. James wasn't perfect. But he grew up, especially after he got together with Lily. They all changed a bit by the end of school."
Harry processed that, his fingers tapping against the side of his mug. "What about my mum? Did she ever forgive Snape?"
Hagrid hesitated, then sighed. "I dunno all the details, Harry. But I do know she gave him chances—plenty of 'em. Lily was like that, always wantin' to see the best in people. But Snape… he got mixed up with a bad crowd. And at some point, I think he crossed a line she couldn't ignore."
Harry swallowed. He didn't need to ask what that meant.
"But…" Hagrid continued, voice quieter now, "I don't think Snape ever stopped carin' about her. Not really."
Harry's grip on his mug tightened. He knew that already. He had felt it.
For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling fire and Fang's soft snoring in the corner. Then Harry exhaled, trying to push away the storm of emotions rising inside him.
"Hagrid," he said after a moment, "did my parents leave anything behind besides money?"
Hagrid frowned. "Whatcha mean?"
"I mean… they were an old wizarding family, right? The Potters? Shouldn't there be more? Like land, a house, something?"
Hagrid looked slightly uncomfortable, his large hands tightening around his mug. "Well… I s'pose there would be. The Potters were a respected family, no doubt about that." He scratched his beard. "But yeh never really got told much about all that, did yeh?"
Harry shook his head. "Not at all. And now I'm wondering why. If my family had land or titles, shouldn't someone have told me? I mean, I don't even know if the house in Godric's Hollow still belongs to me."
Hagrid let out a heavy sigh. "Harry… I dunno all the details. Ain't really my area. But if no one told yeh, maybe it's somethin' yeh need to look into yerself."
Harry frowned. "But why wouldn't anyone tell me?"
Hagrid hesitated for a long moment, then muttered, "Maybe they didn't want yeh askin' too many questions."
Harry's jaw clenched. That answer wasn't satisfying—it only raised more questions.
"Would Gringotts know?" he asked finally.
Hagrid gave a firm nod. "Aye. The goblins keep track of all that. If there's anythin' yeh shoulda inherited, they'd have records. But…" He trailed off, looking Harry in the eye. "Be careful, Harry. If no one's told yeh about it by now, there's a reason for that. Best make sure yeh know what yer walkin' into before yeh start claimin' things."
Harry swallowed, the weight of Hagrid's words settling over him.
By the time he reached the library, Hermione and Neville already had a small pile of books waiting.
"You were gone for a while," Hermione noted as he sat down.
"I think I just found out something big," Harry said, voice low. "I need to find out if I can actually claim whatever my family left behind."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "You mean like a title?"
"Maybe," Harry said. "Hagrid didn't know much, but he said Gringotts would have the records. And if no one's ever told me about any of this before…" He let the thought trail off.
Neville leaned forward, looking thoughtful. "It makes sense. You are the last Potter. If your family had a title or property, you should be the one to inherit it."
Hermione had already opened a book, flipping through the pages. "Well, there are laws about this kind of thing. If you really are the Potter heir, there's probably a legal way for you to claim it. But depending on how it was handled after your parents died, someone else might have control over it right now."
They were about to find out exactly what being Harry Potter truly meant.