With that dumb intervention, Harry had completely forgotten about needing to write to Sirius about being the Triwizard Champion until Hermione reminded him the next morning. In Harry's defense, he'd had a lot on his mind. With the exception of Gryffindor, the whole school seemed to despise him. Harry couldn't really say he blamed them this time around since this time he'd "confessed" to his supposed misdeed, but that sure didn't make it a fun experience to say the least.

In fact, it was rumored that Hufflepuff was so upset that there was talk of possibly invoking the Unity Protocol. The Unity Protocol officially did not exist, but unofficially everyone knew it was what happened when you made yourself a true enemy of Hufflepuff House. Once activated, every member of Hufflepuff would make it their personal mission to destroy your life using any and all legal means at their disposal. Hufflepuffs didn't sound too threatening at first glance, but when a quarter of magical Britain was out to make your life miserable, your life would become a living hell. Even Voldemort was reluctant to target Hufflepuffs in the opening stages of the war, but eventually his bloodthirstiness had gotten the better of him and the protocol was activated, thus putting the war into high gear.

Fortunately, the Unity Protocol was decided by a council of Hufflepuff alumni who were probably not going to activate it on a child. It was certainly without precedent. But even the rumor of it being considered chilled Harry to the bone. Next to that threat, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin contempt paled in comparison.

Gryffindor had Harry's back, but that didn't make him feel much better. It was nice to see them defend him against bullying – and a welcome change of pace to be sure – but the fact that they were only doing this because they believed him to be a successful cheater left a sour taste in Harry's mouth.

Harry was hoping to have a conversation with Draco when they reached Care of Magical Creatures – maybe Draco could ask his dad if he knew who put Harry's name in the Goblet – but Draco avoided all of Harry's conversational gambits. Then something very strange happened. Goyle, of all people, asked to meet with him after class. Harry had never spoken a single word to Goyle in his life; he wasn't entirely sure Goyle was even capable of speaking until then.

To make matters infinitely worse, Hagrid decided it was a great idea to have them take those accursed Blast Ended Skrewts for a walk. Harry loved Hagrid. In a few ways, he even thought of him as the closest thing to a father he'd ever had. But Harry was becoming increasingly sure teaching was not his calling. At least not teaching children, at any rate.

"So I've been hearing a rumor that you put your name in the Goblet of Fire," Hagrid said, shaking his head in dismay. "Couldn't be true, could it? The Harry I know had more sense than that."

There were many people – more than he suspected – Harry was willing to try his new personality on. Hagrid would never, ever be one of them. "It's just a ruse," Harry explained. "The way I see it, if I pretend to have put my name in the Goblet, whoever put my name in will get overconfident and make a mistake."

"Ha!" Hagrid said, but despite sounding like a laugh, there was no humor in his words. "Sounds like something your mum would have done. She could scheme like a Slytherin sometimes." He tilted his head. "Though the way you act now is like your dad all the way. Kind of weird, you know. It's like…ugh, some foreign word. French, I think…"

"Déjà vu?" Harry suggested.

"Aye, that," Hagrid said with a solemn nod. "Look, your dad was…well, he had a good heart, always. But it took a while for his head to catch up sometimes, you know?" Harry nodded. He knew. "I've reckoned you've earned a bit of this, mind you. But don't let it get to your head."

"I'll try my best," Harry promised, meaning every single word. The last thing he wanted was to become like Malfoy used to. "I won't end up like Draco."

Hagrid narrowed his eyes. "Speaking of which, the word around the staff is you and Draco seem to be getting along better."

"You can't believe everything you hear," Harry deflected.

Hagrid gave a knowing grin. "Aye, there's that. Harry, who you love is your business. But Draco's father is a nasty piece of work. I knew him when he was a student here. He liked hurting people, and he hasn't gotten any better since." He tilted his head, looking contemplative all of a sudden. "Last few years, Draco was like him, but nowadays he reminds me more of Narcissa."

"I don't know a lot about Mrs. Malfoy," Harry admitted.

"She's the brains of the family, always has been," Hagrid said. "Smart as a whip. If you make yourself her enemy, you might as well cut your own throat and save time."

"Did she know my parents?" Harry asked eagerly. He was always eager for more information about his parents, no matter how inconsequential.

Hagrid shook his head. "Not so as I know. Narcissa was in sixth year when your parents were in first." He patted Harry on the back gently, but even that was enough to make Harry almost cry out in pain. "Ah, we've chatted for long enough. Look, Harry, if you want to date Draco, I'll stand by you. But Lucius isn't gonna make it easy, so remember that. And even now, I still think you can do better. Didn't you say you were interested in the Weasley boy?"

Harry laughed softly. "He didn't like me like that."

"Ah, well, then he don't know what he's missing," Hagrid said with a firm nod. "You're gonna make some boy or girl very happy one day, Harry. You're a good bloke, just like your dad before you." Harry grinned. Hagrid had been the first person he'd come out to, correctly reasoning that anyone who was openminded enough to find Cerberuses to be adorable wouldn't give a damn that Harry liked boys and girls. It was nice to know that no matter what happened, one person could eternally be trusted to have his back.

Harry was in such a good mood, as a matter of fact, that he had entirely forgotten about Goyle's ultimatum by the end of class. Unfortunately, he and Crabbe hadn't done the same. As Harry was walking back to the castle, someone stunned him from behind, and when he awoke, he was tied up in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest. Harry was really getting sick and tired of waking up all tied up. Once was bad enough, and that had been his friends doing it!

"Ah, Hadrian, old bean," Goyle said in an incredibly posh voice that sounded entirely alien coming out of his mouth. It wasn't the one he'd used earlier in the lesson. "So lovely you could spare a moment for a pleasant interlocution."

"My name's Harry, not Hadrian," Harry said slowly, latching on that part of the conversation for dear life. Was this really Goyle? Maybe someone else was impersonating him with Polyjuice Potion just like Harry had done in second year.

Crabbe snickered. "He thinks his name is Harry!" At least Crabbe sounded the same. Thank Merlin for small mercies. "Did you hear that, Greg? Harry!"

"Yes, yes, I heard, my loyal compatriot," Goyle said soothingly. "No, I do believe your real full name is Hadrian. Frightfully strange, you not knowing that." Hadrian. Interesting. Harry kind of liked that name. It sounded regal. He was still going to call himself Harry, though, but maybe he'd trot it out if he wanted to sound more important.

"This whole conversation is bloody strange," Harry said eventually. "So are you going to kill me now?"

Goyle looked aghast. "Why, certainly not! Oh, no, no, no, Hadrian, you've got quite the wrong idea." He gave a gentle smile at Harry. "I imagine this must be confusing to you. I make it a point to downplay my intelligence. It keeps people underestimating me. You'd be amazed what you can get away with when people think you're dumb as rocks. Not even Draco knows. Feel free to tell him if you like; he'd never believe you." Harry agreed with that statement; he barely believed this himself.

"And Crabbe?"

Goyle gave a kind look at Crabbe, though it was tempered by condescension. "Vincent has a pure, kind soul, and that's what's important." So it was only Goyle who was hiding his intelligence. Got it.

"What do you want?" Harry said bluntly.

Goyle suddenly looked twice as menacing as he usually did. "I want to inform you that if you do anything to hurt Draco once you've started courting him, the consequences will be dire."

Harry's mouth dropped open. He was seriously getting a shovel talk from Crabbe and Goyle?! What was even his life right now? "I'm not…I'm not interested in Draco! Not really! I've just been flirting with people to mess with them. I even flirted with Crabbe a little!"

Goyle suddenly snarled and Harry was reminded unpleasantly of the basilisk. "And you will never do that again," he hissed so sibilantly Harry thought for a second he was on the threshold of lapsing into Parseltongue. Harry nodded hurriedly. It wasn't like he had liked flirting with Crabbe. He'd spent a great deal of time washing his hands after that. "At any rate," he said in a normal tone, "I think we both know you and Draco will get together sooner rather than later."

"Uh, no, we don't."

"Now I know I may not scare you," Goyle went on as if Harry had not spoken. "You've faced down the Dark Lord, and a basilisk, and Sirius Black. But those people were morons. I am not. You'll never see me coming." He waved his wand and the ropes around Harry disappeared. Harry decided he'd learn how to counteract that spell sooner rather than later. "Pleasure talking with you, Hadrian, old bean. Cheerio!"

Crabbe and Goyle walked away. Harry just stared at where they'd been for at least a minute, trying to figure out whether or not he'd dreamed that whole encounter. He wasn't sure which outcome disturbed him more, to be honest. There was something seriously wrong with his subconscious if he had dreamed this encounter, but if he hadn't, there was something seriously wrong with reality. Which was worse, Harry wondered?

In the end, he decided to just put it out of his mind. It wasn't as if he was planning to pursue Draco anytime soon, so Goyle's threat was moot. Or at all, he hurriedly added. Besides, even if Harry was interested in Draco – which he totally wasn't – it would hardly be fair to Draco to try to date him with there being a very decent chance he'd die in less than a month. Also, it was Draco, who dedicated an unholy amount of time to making Harry's life miserable. That sort of thing didn't just go away in an instant.

Over the next few days, Gryffindor's public support for him started waning. It seemed they'd realized that supporting a self-admitted cheater didn't exact make them look good. Harry wondered if it was a good idea to rip off the bandage and admit he'd lied about cheating. But, honestly, he was having too much fun to stop, and he wasn't convinced they'd actually believe him. Harry had spent so much time as a doormat, being a good boy, and what had it gotten him? His life in danger, repeatedly. Horrible injuries. Getting sent back to the Dursleys. Was it really so much of a crime to enjoy himself? Did he have to be the paragon of heroism all the time?

Certainly if Harry was in the market for dating someone – which he wasn't – he'd be spoiled for choice. He'd been asked out by at least a dozen girls and four boys. He'd been much more gentle about rejecting the boys than the girls; he remembered how awkward and nerve-wracking it had been when he'd asked out Ron. But Harry still reveled in the attention he was getting. And a lot of the people he was getting said attention from were pretty nice to look at, honestly.

One day after class, Cedric had ambushed him. Well, he'd walked up to him and asked to talk, but in Harry's book that counted as an ambush because he hadn't even noticed Cedric approaching. The two of them retreated to a nearby empty classroom. Harry shifted nervously, remembering how phenomenally awkward it had been when Harry tried to ask out Cedric, even more so than Ron. Cedric had been so nice about rejecting Harry, it had almost made him cry with how sweet he was. But ever since then, Harry had been trying to avoid Cedric like the plague; easy enough, given that they didn't share any classes, until now.

"Harry, look, please be honest with me," Cedric pleaded. Damn it, how could Harry look at that beautiful face and lie? Cedric was unfairly pretty, in Harry's opinion. Getting rejected hadn't changed Harry's opinion of that. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire? Because that's not the Harry I know."

Harry laughed, a trifle caustically. "Do you know me, Cedric? Does anyone? Do I? I recently found out my real name is Hadrian! Hadrian! No one had even told me!"

Cedric shrugged. "I guess everyone thought you knew already. I know I did. But you didn't answer my question."

Damn it. Harry had really thought he could change the subject. So much for that plan. "No," he admitted. He had intended to lie, but the truth slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry if I made things difficult for you, Cedric."

"Oh, no, Harry, I'm just relieved," Cedric assured him with one of those stupid gorgeous smiles. Sometimes Harry swore he could see Cedric sparkling in the daylight, he was so pretty. "And I owe you an apology. A long delayed one. I should have spoken up for you two years ago, back when everyone thought you were the Heir of Slytherin."

"Why didn't you?" Harry wondered. He wasn't angry, just curious.

Cedric sighed. "I was scared, I guess. I'm a pureblood myself, but I have plenty of Muggleborn friends. I gave into fear, and I made your life miserable, and I'm so sorry, Harry."

"No one's actually apologized to me for that before," Harry admitted. "I mean, some people took a stab at it, but…you know, no one really meant it, I think." He furrowed his brow. "Has anyone genuinely apologized to me for anything?"

"Yeah, well, I think I'm gonna go now before this conversation gets depressing," Cedric decided. Harry could hardly blame him for that. "Um, Harry…I didn't hurt you or anything when I turned you down, did I? It's just, you've kind of been avoiding me…I'd like to think we're friends."

Stupid Cedric. Stupid kind, caring, compassionate, straight Cedric. "I didn't even notice," Harry lied, feeling his ears heating up. By the looks of it, Cedric could tell it was a lie but said nothing to allow Harry to keep his dignity. "Yeah, we can spend more time together, no problem. And don't worry about rejecting me. Not my first go around."

"Ron?" Cedric deduced.

"Ron," Harry said, unable to keep a dreamy smile off his face. He coughed. "Anyway, don't worry about me. I'm more concerned with how I'm gonna stay alive than who I'm gonna date."

Cedric nodded. "Look, I know it's against the rules, but I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you alive, okay? If you put your name in on purpose, maybe I wouldn't, but this isn't fair to you. So if I find out about the first task, I'll tell you. I can help you practice advanced spells if you need it."

"Thanks, Cedric," said Harry, genuinely touched. "And I'll do the same."

Honestly, Harry did feel a bit better after that encounter. Maybe getting rejected by Cedric had unbalanced him more than he thought it would and getting closure helped. Or maybe it was simply that it was nice to talk things over with a friend. At any rate, having Cedric's support would definitely prevent the Unity Protocol from being activated, so there was that. Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out all right after all.

Once upon a time, centuries prior, one of Luna Lovegood's ancestors had introduced fae blood to the family tree. No one knew when this had happened, or even who had done it, but every so often, the family plopped out a member with one or more fae traits. Some of them had more than others. Occasionally, you would just get a Lovegood with a very vivid eye color, but just as often, they'd get a more supernatural trait such as the inability to lie or, in Luna's case, the ability to see auras.

The ability to see auras was both a blessing and a curse. It gave a glimpse at the true person within, but it was subject to interpretation – and lore about interpreting auras was notoriously spotty and inconsistent – and sometimes you learned things about a person you didn't want to know. Sometimes, ignorance was bliss. Luna, for example, could have gone without knowing her father's aura had been slowly but inexorably destabilizing since her mother's death. Luna worried constantly about what would happen when it deteriorated to the point where Dad would be unable to take care of himself.

When Luna arrived at Hogwarts, she had expected to find bright, vibrant auras, not unlike her neighbors, the Weasleys. But what she'd found was much more disturbing than that. The auras were rotten somehow. It was like they were being poisoned, spiritually. They flickered and twisted in eldritch patterns that made Luna's eyes hurt sometimes. It was worse for some than others, such as Harry and his friends and some of the teachers, especially Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.

All of this, however, paled in comparison to the horror she felt whenever she viewed Dumbledore's aura. It was pitch black, but Luna knew that it wasn't actually that way. Dumbledore's aura was actually a black hole, sucking in all the light around it. The closest thing Luna had seen to it was the diary Ginny had carried around with her constantly during their first year, the first and only time she'd seen an aura emanating from an inanimate object. It wasn't an exact comparison, though. There were differences she'd be hard pressed to explain to herself, much less an outsider.

Luna, of course, didn't tell anyone this. While she was happy enough to chat about the various abstruse cryptozoological beasts she loved to read about, she knew that if she talked about auras, she could be in big trouble. The problem wasn't people potentially disbelieving her, the problem was them believing her. Aura viewing was an incredibly rare talent, and one that would make her an invaluable resource to a wide variety of powerful individuals, none of which would be willing to give her the slightest amount of freedom if they got her in their clutches.

But still, seeing the fractured auras around people like Ron Weasley and, to a lesser extent, Hermione Granger, made her yearn to inform them so they could get their auras mended. Though frankly Luna wasn't sure how they'd go about doing that. Dumbledore was probably the only person would know, but that was only because he was almost certainly responsible for it. Luna had occasionally thought about stopping Dumbledore from doing…whatever he was doing, but how would she even do it? Where would she even begin?

However, there was hope. Very recently, not too long after Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire (Luna didn't believe in the slightest he had put his name in there; the very idea was ludicrous), his aura had abruptly started healing and strengthening. She'd never seen anything like it. She'd seen people's aura degrade, but never repaired. It was very pleasant to see, though Luna hadn't had the slightest idea why it was happening. Perhaps more people would follow suit. Yes, Luna was feeling much more optimistic about the future these days.

"Hey there!" a voice called out and Luna looked up at the ceiling to see Daphne Greengrass hanging from it like she was Spider-Man. (Daphne was absolutely obsessed with Muggle superhero comics and they'd spent a great deal of time reading them together.) As always, Luna's best friend was dressed in a vivid, multicolored, blazingly bright outfit that made Luna's eyes water just to look at. Her hair was just as colorful and unruly. Daphne's aura, however, was the exact opposite. It was so dull and dim that it almost looked like she was near death.

Each of the Greengrass women suffered from some malady, as the result of a curse placed upon one of their ancestors by no less a personage as the Morrigan herself. The exact symptoms varied wildly from woman to woman. Daphne's sister Astoria had a heart condition, but Daphne's ailment was more spiritually based. It was extremely difficult for people to remember her. Not impossible, granted – Daphne's parents usually remembered she existed. But they'd specifically went through a custom Occlumency regimen to do so. Most of the time, people only had a vague impression of her. That was why she was so vivid with her fashion, so as to try to stick out more.

Luna, however, whether through her fae blood or through some other unknown means, could remember her perfectly, so she had become Daphne's friend more or less by default. Contrary to Daphne's reputation of being the Ice Queen of Slytherin – no one, least of all Daphne herself, had figured out how that had developed – Daphne was an irrepressible bundle of energy who frequently and literally was bouncing off the walls. Daphne had long discovered she could get away with almost anything and even if given detention, no one would remember she had been given it, much less that she hadn't served it, and took advantage of it to wander the halls at her leisure and skip classes that bored her.

Daphne, in turn, always took Luna's ramblings about creatures extremely seriously. There seemed to be no limit to the things she would believe, even some of the more out there conspiracy theories the Quibbler pedaled. No one could ask for a better friend, in Luna's opinion. Despite being in Slytherin, Daphne rarely spent any time these days there. Most of her time was spent among the Ravenclaws. She was pretty much an unofficial Ravenclaw in all but name, constantly on the prowl for clues about how to cure her curse.

"Hello, Daphne," Luna said with a chipper wave. "Off to fight crime again?"

Daphne stuck out her tongue at Luna. "You just wait. One of these days, I'm gonna be the most awesome superhero ever. The Phantasm or something like that. Something cool." Luna wasn't entirely certain whether or not Daphne was serious about wanting to become a superhero after she graduated. She wasn't sure Daphne knew either. "How's Ginny?" she added, saying the last word in a sing-song tone.

Luna sighed. "Daphne…I've told you, I can't ask her out now. We've had this conversation already. I don't want to take advantage of her…"

Luna had freely admitted to herself, and not quite as freely admitted to Daphne, that she had one of the most massive crushes in the entire history of the universe on Ginny Weasley. Over the summer, the two of them had become incredibly close. Ginny's mother had driven her away and Ginny had spent most of the summer rooming with Luna. Luna had been more than happy to spend time with her friend, but had found herself falling more and more in love with her the more time she spent in her company. Ginny was almost literally spellbinding, a vision of beauty, grace, and elegance in Luna's opinion, with a plethora of brains and a wicked sense of humor.

But Luna had refused to make a move on her. Ginny's vulnerability made her susceptible to being taken advantage of, in Luna's opinion. She'd gone through such a shock to her system – her own mother had stopped loving her – and Luna could only imagine Ginny deciding to unhealthily tie herself to Luna. Ginny had been a mess all through her first year and second year hadn't been too much better for her.

Daphne hopped onto the floor as if she was born doing it. "Luna, look. It's so sweet of you to be thinking of Ginny. But she's a big girl. She can make her own decisions. I think she's stronger than you believe. Maybe this summer it wouldn't have been appropriate, but now that she's back at Hogwarts, I think you could do it."

"You really think I'd stand a chance?" Luna said, hating the way her voice sounded so small and weak to her ears.

"Uh, yeah?" Daphne said as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "I mean, look at you, girl! I mean, damn! You are the package deal. Brains, beauty, adorability, you've got it all! If I wasn't straight, I'd be going for you myself. If Ginny says no, then she just doesn't get what she's missing."

Luna gave a genuine grin. She really appreciated having someone like Daphne in her life. It made things far less lonely for her. "Well…I'll think about it." Daphne rolled her eyes. "Maybe you're right."

"She sure as hell deserves something good in her life with that horrible mum of hers constantly sending Howlers," Daphne said bitterly. "You can be that something!"

Luna scowled. "Don't call Mrs. Weasley a mum. She forfeited the right to that title when she hurt Ginny." Luna didn't understand what was going on with Mrs. Weasley. When she'd tried to make peace between Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, unsuccessfully of course, it was like Mrs. Weasley's aura was fighting itself somehow. It was an extremely ugly one, horrifying to look at, and it was getting worse by the second. Hopefully, Ginny would never have to see her progenitrix again; Luna had already made sure her father formally gave her sanctuary with the Lovegoods.

"I'm gonna keep on pestering you until you decide to ask her out," Daphne announced. "You two would make such a cute couple!"

"Okay, Daphne," Luna said in a humoring tone. Daphne could be notoriously capricious. By this time tomorrow, she might have moved onto a new obsession. "Whatever."

"What have we here?" a cruel voice called out. "Looks like we've got a little birdie in our midst." Luna jumped as Nott and several other Slytherins – not Malfoy, strangely enough – emerged from the shadows and surrounded them in a circle. "You shouldn't be down near our territory, little eagle."

Luna adopted the serene, almost vacant expression she put on when she was around people she didn't know very well. It uniformly got people to underestimate her. If they thought she was crazy, she could do as she liked and Luna very much liked doing as she liked. "It would seem you have an inordinate amount of wrackspurts around you," she announced in her patented Loony tone.

With the flick of his wand, one of the Slytherins sent a hex in Luna's direction and her arm flared with pain. Luna looked over at Daphne, but she was gone, presumably to get help. That was good news. All she had to do now was stall. "As a matter of fact, I was just thinking of you, Nott. Tell me, is it true your brain is the size of a walnut or is it, as I suspect, even smaller?"

The sheer amount of time it took for Nott to process the remark suggested to Luna that the answer was, in fact, the latter. "You! You'll pay for that!"

The best defense, Luna had heard somewhere, was a good offense, so she leapt at Nott with a martial arts move she'd seen in a movie (Daphne had absolutely insisted Luna watch all sorts of Muggle films with her over the summer), only to miss him entirely and fall onto the floor. "Ow," she complained. "That worked when Bruce Lee did it."

"What's going on here?!" a voice called out and Luna couldn't help but give a grin when she saw the help Daphne had gotten. Not one of the professors, who probably wouldn't have helped very much, but no less than Harry Potter himself. The day was practically saved already. "You let go of her!"

"Make me, Potter," Nott sneered.

Harry smirked at him. It was a bizarre expression to see on his face, but it somehow felt right in this very specific instance. "This girl is under my protection," he said in a regal, aristocratic tone. They all peered at him with confusion and a slight amount of fear. "As the leader of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, I, Lord Hadrian James Potter, place Luna Lovegood under my aegis and an attack on her is an attack on House Potter."

Nott looked at him, uncertainty all over his face. Then his expression hardened. "Stay away from the dungeons, girl," he spat, and then he and his flunkies stormed off.

"Thank you so much," Luna said.

"No problem," Harry said, back to his modest, normal tone. "When your friend here…uh, what did you say your name was?"

Daphne sighed and handed Harry a card. Harry always forgot Daphne much more easily than most, so they'd had him write out an explanation regarding her condition, which she showed to him every time they encountered each other.

"Oh," Harry said, blinking, as he read the card. "Okay, then." As always, he took it in stride. Luna liked that about him. He handed the card back to Daphne. "As I was saying, when Daphne told me you were in trouble, I just decided to help. It was the decent thing to do." For some people, that may have been said in a bragging tone, but Harry was genuinely that modest.

Daphne tilted her head. "Why did you decide to invoke your status as a lord this time around?"

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Wait, that's a thing?! It's not! You're having me on!" Daphne snook her head. "I just made it up off the top of my head! Oh, God, this is going to complicate things so much. So I'm a real lord, then?"

Daphne's eyes lit up. "Oh, here we go," Luna muttered. Daphne loved to pontificate on the political system of the British magical world.

Like Muggle Britain, magical Britain had a bicameral parliament, that was to say, one with two chambers. One of them was the Folkmoot, which was directly elected. The Minister of Magic was a member of the Folkmoot and only the Folkmoot could appoint and dismiss him. The other chamber was the Wizengamot, which was a hereditary body consisting of Lords like Harry. Like the House of Lords until 1948, peers of the Wizengamot had the ability to be tried by their peers, and in some cases, a requirement.

This system was directly analogous to the role of the House of Commons and House of Lords of Muggle Britain respectively. But unlike the House of Lords, the Wizengamot had equal power with the Folkmoot. The Folkmoot had been chomping at the bit to reform Britain, but without a majority in the Wizengamot, the progressive faction found their progress perpetually stalled. It was why people like Harry – and Daphne when she inherited her family's seat – were important. Once the Wizengamot's power was reduced or even eradicated, magical Britain was going to become a very different place.

"This is really interesting," Harry admitted when Daphne finally finished talking. "But I don't understand why no one told me about this. I mean, I think I should have been informed before now that I'm a lord."

"We'll look into it," Daphne promised. "Thanks for saving us."

Harry gave them an awkward wave as they walked away and then, as he had many, many times before, proceeded to forget Daphne ever existed. Daphne claimed she was used to it, but Luna knew otherwise. It still hurt every single time. "Well, Velma, it looks like we have a mystery on our hands."

"Don't call me that," Luna said in a long-suffering tone. Daphne stuck her tongue out at her best friend. Well, at least she wasn't talking about Ginny anymore. Luna would take whatever wins she could get.