A/N: Standard disclaimer; see chapter 1 for details.

Lucius Malfoy and Sirius Black teamed up for a Hogsmeade session on the Wizengamot and house alliances within the governing body. A question from one of the students had Mr. Malfoy veering slightly off track.

"During this century, especially the latter half, British wizarding society's insularity and xenophobia increased to the point that we fell behind the rest of the world. That case of being out of sync left us vulnerable to the rise of dictators. I am surprised that the IWC has put up with Albus Dumbledore's pettifoggery for so long; he definitely has difficulty understanding concerns brought before the council. Of course," he paused to give a deprecating smile, "that is but my personal opinion, perhaps coloured by my own interactions with that wizard."

"Dumbledore aside," Hermione's brow creased in concentration, "that isolation could have been exacerbated by the legendary British stiff upper lip."

"Not to mention the island's population being decimated by the way the Grindelwald war and the second world war bled into both worlds."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Dumbledore's actions in ending Grindelwald's advance, which occurred in the interim between the muggle victories in Europe and Asia, propelled him into a leadership position, and with wizards' long memories–"

"Due to their lifespan."

"Correct, Miss Granger."

"–he has been placed on a pedestal of unusual strength, and his reputation has proven rather Tefton-coated."

Harry chortled. "That's 'Teflon', Sirius."

"I got close, Pup."

"Don't call me that," he muttered.

"We'll discuss appropriate nicknames later, Prongslet," he grinned. "Anyway, with the sudden culling and/or weakening of the Death Eaters, our society was given a good kick in the arse."

"Must you be vulgar, Black?"

"Well, I could have said 'bollocks', Malfoy." Sirius leaned back and rested an ankle on the opposite knee. The other man's hand twitched as if he wished to hex the younger's said bollocks which were providing such a tempting target. "At any rate, all the deaths and debilitations of the Old Guard caused alliances to fall apart in the Wizengamot. Lucky here got in on the ground floor by negotiating new ones and setting the wizarding world on the path towards joining the modern world."

"The name is Lucius," gritted out that person. "You may call me Malfoy."

"Yeah, yeah." Sirius winked at Draco, who was trying not to laugh at his father's rising colour. "With the vast change of members," he continued, "houses not previously allied found common ground."

Lucius took over. "This permitted the passage of unbigoted and less restrictive laws by the Wizengamot and opened the eyes of the magical world to how far they had fallen behind their muggle counterparts. It became more common for cautious ventures to be made into the other community and offered more possibilities for financial investment. Alas, there are still a few clinging to the old ways, but we are doing our best to work around them."

"You might have more luck if the Wizengamot were a bicameral legislative body like Parliament," Hermione suggested. "Elected officials, unless they are totally amoral, serve the will of the people or get voted out."

"If anyone had so much as hinted that I would be in favour of such a proposal a decade ago, I might have shot out an unforgivable or two. Not," Lucius looked around, "that that is any sort of confession. But now, even I see the benefits of that or a similar move. The challenge is in convincing the 'regular' witch and wizard that our world needs a radical adjustment to survive the next century. We are currently sounding out members beyond the new alliance, although I fear that is a step too far for most of them at this point in time."

"Which is why Luke here insists that this change must come through the education of our young. Instead of wisdom passing from father to son, it will be the opposite."

"Pet names aside," Lucius glared at his wife's cousin, "he is correct. Your generation will need to lead this movement."

Hermione cleared her throat. "Excuse me, gentlemen." The three boys relaxed into their chairs, having recognized her tone of voice and grateful that they were not the targets. "I take exception to the nouns you use."

Sirius and Lucius exchanged an uncomprehending glance.

"'Father'. 'Son'. Part of the problem in this backwards society is the custom of patriarchal inheritance. It has been historically and sociologically proven that women are more open to compromise and less inclined to settle matters with violence."

"Hey!" Sirius yelped. "Give me credit for recognizing that women are just as capable as men."

"Was this before or after the time Mum lectured you so hard that you retreated into your animagus form?" Harry asked.

"Well, she convinced me in the end, didn't she? Besides, far be it from me to object to bra burning."

"Don't ask, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione advised, seeing his mouth open as if about to phrase the question of what his cousin-in-law was talking about.

"But even if I agree," Sirius continued to argue, "like lots of others, the Black family was patriarchal at the time of the Great Charter. When the magic flowed into that contract, it pretty much froze those traditions, as it was the family head who signed."

Lucius cleared his throat. "While technically correct, there is a way out of that binding. If an appeal for modification is made before the Wizengamot, the heritance rites can be amended. Any request will likely be rubber-stamped, as they consider it to be family business. That's what happened when Henry and Rosalie Bones discovered that Susan would be their only child. Of course, you wouldn't be aware of that," he added snidely, "as it occurred while you were enjoying 'alternate accommodation'."

"Huh," Sirius grunted. "Well, there's no need for that, with Harry set to take over as the Black paterfamilias. It will be up to him to make our name truly respectable. My reputation may have improved somewhat, but that word will never be applied to me."

"Don't lay that burden on me," he protested. "I'll be plenty busy as Potter and Lyonesse. Hell, I'm busy already."

"And don't look in Draco's direction," Lucius warned. "The Malfoy businesses and Fer-de-Lance demesne will be quite enough for my son to handle."

"So," Harry pointed a finger, "either change it so that Dora can inherit or stop being a playboy and settle down to sire your own heirs."

After a pause, Sirius slapped his thigh and laughed at the boy's audacity. "By Merlin, you are more Lily than James at times! All right. I'll do the first and consider the second."

Neville snickered. "Anyone want to bet on how many colours her hair cycles through when she learns she's joining our weekend classes?"

"Lady Hermione, we have problems." Patricia Stimpson had been elected the spokesperson and approached the third year as she discussed hairstyles with Diana.

"Cut out the 'Lady' and what sort of problems?" she asked briskly, reaching for a quill to take notes.

"We've learned the sewing spell, but not enough of us are able to handle the fine tailoring to make the dresses fit right. We're not going to be able to have enough ready for everyone who couldn't afford to bespeak one."

"Oh, dear." The younger girl worried her bottom lip. "The whole purpose of making them was that all could participate."

"Why can't the elves help?" Her Highness asked.

"They're forbidden," Hermione explained. "The headmaster doesn't like our ideas and tried to undermine us last year by cutting off access to them for our meetings. If it hadn't been for Mr. Malfoy arranging for Dobby, we might have had more trouble making progress."

"That old fool." She shook her head. "But I'm confused. Last week I tore a stocking, and a sweet elf named Mazey snapped her fingers and had it looking just like new."

She pondered the situation. "Perhaps she recognizes that you outrank everyone in the castle. But we shouldn't use that advantage or Dumbledore will cry 'foul'. Dobby!"

"Yes, Mistress Hermione Lady?"

"Dobby," she leaned forward, "how are your sewing skills?"

His ears drooped. "Dobby knows cleanings and hangings clothes but not the makings."

"Then, do you perhaps know any elves who do know 'the makings' and can help the girls finish their dresses?"

"Yes," he jumped up and down, "many castle elveses knows!"

"But we can't ask them to help us," she reminded him.

His face scrunched in thought. "Professor Whiskers no makes sense. Many elveses has lots of time after cookings and cleanings. Castle has too many elveses for little work."

"Could we pay them?" Diana asked. "Just during their time when they have no other tasks?"

He shook his head. "Elveses takes offer of pay as great insult." His tennis ball sized eyes narrowed slyly. "But maybe trade be's something they likes."

"Trade?" Hermione asked. "What would they want?"

"Castle elveses admire Dobby's uniforms once he explains they not clothes." Today he was clad in a seersucker suit of 1930's design. "Maybe girl elveses like leftover fabrics to makes Hoggywarts robes for themselves."

"Patricia?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Do you think that would be acceptable on our end?"

"I'm sure it would. Oh, Dobby," she squatted down to his height, "if this works out, I bet lots of girls would line up to hug you!"

His eyes widened. "Oh, no." He grabbed Hermione's legs and hid behind her. "Dobby not likes that!"