"So. A parselmouth, huh."
Neville tensed, then sighed in relief as he recognised Harry's voice. His godbrother settled right next to him. He was alone, which was uncharacteristic. He was rarely seen without his Slytherin friends. Neville glanced aside and there they were, sitting at another table. He could see Greengrass drawing while the others did homework. Nott was looking their way though, and offered Neville a cordial nod when their eyes met. Neville nodded back awkwardly, wishing he hadn't left Ron and Hermione in Myrtle's bathroom to rewrite his potions essay.
"I spent my whole childhood hiding from the world in Longland manor's greenhouses," Neville said, glancing down. "I was bound to meet a snake or two, so I've known for a while. Gran checked our family tree, we have no relation to Slytherin whatsoever."
"Even if you did, I wouldn't think you're the Heir, you know."
Neville raised his head. His friend was smiling at him, his eyes soft and understanding.
"You're not a violent person and Hermione's one of your best friends. You talk to plants like they're your children and you have a pet toad for Merlin's sake." Harry shook his head. "Nobody with any sense believes you're responsible for what's happening right now."
"You should tell that to Justin," he snorted. "He thinks I'm being possessed by Voldemort. He says it's not my fault of course, but that the fact that I speak to snakes proves something wrong's with me."
"As I said, nobody with any sense," repeated Harry with a wink. He paused before continuing. "No, really. He's scared. Fear makes people stupid."
Harry's eyes turned hard and his nostrils flared. It only lasted a second, but it was enough for Neville to look at him with concern. The Potter heir smiled wryly.
"Look at you, worrying about me when you're the one who's being stared at by the whole school."
"Friendship goes both ways," reminded Neville. "I can worry about you and about myself at the same time you know."
"It's just. Someone sent a tripping jinx at Tracey when we were walking down the stairs. I caught her in time but."
"But you're angry about what could have happened?" guessed the Longbottom lord.
His godbrother nodded, his jaw clenched.
"I suppose I'm lucky that even if people think I'm the one behind the attacks, they don't try to attack me for it. They're too scared I'll retaliate, I suppose. It's horrible that they do that to you guys."
"And we can't even fight back because it makes everything worse. Just look at how people reacted when we left the Great Hall last year."
Neville grimaced. His friend had a point.
"I say do what you want. The people that matter know there's nothing wrong with being Slytherins, they'll understand that you have to defend yourselves."
His friend chuckled. He stood up, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Take your own advice, Nev'. I'll see you later, yeah?"
Later, as Neville gazed down at the petrified forms of Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick, he clung to Harry's words with the desperation of a castaway holding onto a piece of driftwood.
Adrian regretted convincing Terence to take up the Argentum Rex position so badly. He couldn't believe he didn't realise his best friend was onto something at the time. The whole thing was more trouble than it was worth.
He groaned, thumping his head on his study desk. Terence and Aspen snickered at him.
"You had the right idea, Terry. This is hell."
They'd spent hours cross-referencing timetables to make sure an upperclassman was always available to watch over the first, second, and third years in case someone attacked them. Arthur Geraint in third year had already been sent to the hospital wing by a group of fifth-year Gryffindors looking for someone to blame for the Heir of Slytherin business. Though Adrian was pretty sure it had more to do with the Gryffindor's team's loss in quidditch. Bunch of self-righteous hypocrites.
"I told you so," said their Rex, shaking his head. "Tutoring, House meetings, social events, settling disputes and supervising duels, protecting the House reputation-"
"And so on and so forth," summarised Aspen, grabbing Terence's hands to stop him from counting down, "we know, we've been doing it for what? Three months already?"
"I know, I just thought listing everything would convey how much I hate you all for making me do this."
"Hey, you chose to do it yourself."
"What was it that you said at the time?" asked Terence, cocking his head. " 'If you don't do it, I will', right? How about you switch with me?"
"Can I keep your Regina though?"
Adrian smirked, his shoulders relaxing at the familiar argument. It wasn't the first time they'd complained to each other about it, but frankly, it could have been worse. They had a Spinea Regina after all, which meant their court could only be challenged by a pair. It made their reign significantly more peaceful than whatever was going on when William Robards was ruling. That had been painful to watch.
His lips twitched as he thought about Flint trying to court the branch Avery girl in his year to face up to the challenge of contesting the couple's claim. Though she was interested in the benefits of being Spinea Regina, it seemed he hadn't yet managed to convince her to forget she was a lesbian. Oh well. He wasn't worried. Even if Avery did accept, she wasn't a good enough duellist to face Gemma's warding talent and Terence's Auror training. Still, it would be funny to see Flint try. Maybe they'd be able to bargain his and Harry's place back on the team when he inevitably lost.
Adrian scowled at the thought. He hated that this was what they had been reduced to. He didn't regret resigning of course, it would have sent the wrong statement to stay on the team when Harry had been kicked out of it. Yet, it still grated. Snape was such a piece of shit for allowing this. He didn't even have anything to gain from it, the asshole.
"You're getting cranky," observed Aspen. "When are you playing with Harry again?"
"Tomorrow. He's invited Diggory this time, and he'll bring Applebee - you know, the chaser in his year? I think her name's Tamsin - so we'll be doing two teams of one beater, one seeker, and one chaser each."
"The beaters are still the Weasley twins, right? How do they even have the time? Wood's a hardass," asked Terence.
"Apparently Wood says it's good for them to learn to play separately. They do tend to move as a unit."
Aspen, who knew nothing about quidditch and couldn't care less about it returned to his Arithmancy essay as they discussed the Gryffindor team's quidditch strategy. Adrian could see a small smile dancing on his lips though, as their quieter friend let their conversation wash over him. The Selwyn heir had come far from the snappish and rude boy he had been in his first year, lashing out at anyone who looked at him too long. It was good to see the blond so relaxed, Adrian thought. He glanced away before his friend could notice him staring.
After a while, Safaa and Gemma joined them, looking exhausted after supervising a duel between fourth years, pinning the date of the next House party on the notice board, and giving an impromptu tutoring session to two first years who were worried about failing Charms.
Harry would have normally done so since his court had taken the firsties under their wing and helped smooth over their integration into Hogwarts, but he was busy helping out Diggory in his fundraising campaign. Adrian was glad something was being done; although he hoped he'd manage to defend himself against the coward who'd targeted a cat, a ghost, and two lower years students, he still kept in mind the possibility that Slytherin's monster actually existed and every muggle-born was at risk. He and Terence had already taken aside the only muggle-borns currently in Slytherin - Adytia Sandhu in first year, Elise Gardner in third year, and Shane Williamson in fourth - to teach them some defence tactics in case they were ambushed. He hoped it would be enough.
Detention with Lockhart was the worst thing Harry had ever been subjected to, and he'd had to live through pretty nasty things at the Dursleys. Things like running from Dudley or getting locked in the cupboard for days at least had the advantage of giving him a minimum of adrenaline or some peace and quiet. But the mind-numbing experience of listening to Lockhart prattling on about how Harry needed to learn to tone down his jealousy against famous people and that while the professor understood his desire to be in the spotlight he shouldn't be rude to adults to achieve it was absolutely atrocious. He even went as far as to say pretty insensitive things about his parents, and how Lockhart would definitely never have ended up in their situation.
Harry spent the whole time gritting his teeth and using every last shred of the Occlumency training Blaise had given him not to snap and hex the man right where he stood. There were some parts of the detention that were spotty in his mind due to the pressure he'd applied to his mental walls. He sometimes blinked and realised more time had passed than he'd expected. Still, at the end of the two hours, he had to duck into an empty classroom to wrestle his sparking magic back in control. He didn't cast spells, too scared to overpower them but instead shaped his power into sparks of light that dissipated before they touched the ground. He had been so stressed lately, with the Heir of Slytherin business, the loss of his place on the team, his issues with professor Snape and sessions with the mind healer. He needed this.
He looked around. The room wasn't damaged -he hadn't been angry to the point of setting chairs on fire or anything like that- but the air was so permeated with magic he could feel the weight of it on his tongue.
"Prodigius aspectum," he incanted, copying the spell Snape had used on him.
And he was assaulted by a whirlpool of colour. There for his eyes to see was a kaleidoscope of golds, blues and greens interspersed with shades of white and black swirling into soft greys which accompanied the hum of a song without lyrics, harmonious without rhythm. He blinked and focused, trying to figure out what part of the sounds and visuals belonged to him and which part was the school's ambient magic given form. Soon enough, he could discern more than his own power and had to contain a gasp.
Hogwarts' magic was beautiful. It was midnight blue, burnt orange and pale pink, protective and profoundly alive. It pulled Harry's magic in and made it the castle's, welcoming his sparks into its walls like they'd always belonged there.
Harry's smile at the sight was a wobbly thing, tremulous in the face of his love for magic, his own and the one that surrounded him. Ulrich's cottage was home in a way he had never understood when living at the Dursleys, but he had been saved by a letter sent from Hogwarts, taken in by a professor who had saved him and promised he would learn to wield the magic at his fingertips. His parents, his Potter and Peverell ancestors had all walked these very walls and he was the last of them. He would become someone great, he promised to the school his family had roamed since its creation. He would cure his parents and make sure they too would have the opportunity to realise their ambitions. They were still so young in the grand scheme of things; even if it took him thirty years they would have decades to spend together.
He hadn't told Blaise but he was thankful for his suggestion to learn Legilimency to facilitate his Occlumency lessons. He had read about torture curses and he knew he would probably need to delve into his parents' minds to heal them. He was sure that beyond healing magic, Legilimency was one of the keys to creating a cure, so his friend's help in mastering it was priceless. Blaise's professor had sent them a compendium on the mind arts he was planning to devour and his best friend knew more about the subject than even Theo, who was something of a living encyclopedia of magical theory. The mind arts were Blaise's passion.
He didn't know why he hadn't told his friends about his ambition to heal his parents. He supposed he was scared they would dismiss him. As far as anyone knew, nobody recovered from the extent of damage James and Lily Potter had suffered from. Its horrific consequences on the mind of a person and on their nerve endings was the reason the Cruciatus curse was an Unforgivable, beyond even the pain the spell caused when it was cast or the fact that no shield could block it. If his friends told him they thought he couldn't do it, Harry feared his resolve would break. The faith he had in himself was fragile and turned brittle every time he visited James and Lily Potter in the hospital. The barest pressure could make the thread of his confidence snap.
But he was good at healing, he reminded himself as the spell faded away. He closed the door to the classroom. He was good, and he would become the best if that was what it took to get his parents back. His magic purred in anticipation, and Harry shivered in the cold of the night, twirling his wand between his fingers to occupy his hands.
He was really grateful to have the cloak to go back to the common room. By the time he felt better, it was way past curfew. He opened the passageway silently, murmuring the password - "resilience" - as quietly as possible, and closed the hidden door behind him, resting his thumb lightly on the concealed snake making out the door handle.
"Who's there?"
"Everyone should be asleep by now," hissed a voice Harry didn't recognise, though the first speaker sounded familiar.
He walked closer, making sure his steps were silent. His gaze caught on to a secluded couch in the common room, where two silhouettes were rising, their eyes trained on the now-closed passageway. He heard a sigh.
"Wait, I know who it is. Harry, be a dear and take off your cloak."
Harry raised an eyebrow but did as Safaa asked and stepped closer to the couple. The sixth-year was standing in front of the one he assumed to be her mystery boyfriend, whose unknown identity had been driving Adrian crazy for weeks now. The boy was tall, with broad shoulders, bronze-framed glasses, curly blond hair, and a recognisable heir ring on his index finger.
"Rowle?" he muttered, surprised.
He supposed that if his cousin's best friend was meeting someone in secret, it was not surprising for him to be someone from an enemy House, but still. As far as he was aware, Spencer Rowle was perfectly in agreement with his Lady mother's Death Eater ideology. Madlin Rowle and her husband Thorfinn had been acquitted by the Wizengamot, but Harry was perfectly aware of how little that meant in the end when her House was still sworn to the last lord of House Slytherin.
"You can imagine why we're not screaming it over the rooftops," said Safaa, looking sheepish.
Her boyfriend nodded. He seemed supremely uncomfortable. Harry sighed.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, promise. Does Gemma know?"
They shook their head.
"Nobody does. I asked Safaa not to tell," said Rowle, looking regretful. He had a really deep voice, noted the Potter heir. "I am watched at Hogwarts. My family is…" His expression twisted. "Complicated," he settled, biting his lip.
Harry offered him a wry grin, pleasantly surprised by the fact that he was willing to say that much to a second year.
"Tell me about it."
It was pretty common knowledge that something had gone wrong with his Muggle family to cause his fostering with House Fawley. It was rare that anyone asked. People tended to forget about it since he rarely told anyone outside of his own friend group or Gemma's when he didn't understand something that was common knowledge among the wizard-raised. Well, they forgot until Malfoy reminded them. Repeatedly.
Rowle seemed relieved to not have to explain.
"Do you want me to make a Secrecy Vow or something?"
He had read there existed minor Vows that simply prevented the swearer to speak until the witness released them from the secret. He'd never tried it, but he would if it made Safaa's boyfriend safer. He knew what it felt like to be scared of family.
The couple exchanged a look, and the Potter heir realised they were as besotted with each other as Terence and Gemma were. They even had the silent communication thing down. Harry wondered how long they had been dating, but decided against asking. It wasn't his business.
Safaa shook her head. Her head-wrap was a pale yellow with embroidered flowers. Harry thought it looked pretty nice.
"No need."
"Right. I'll be going to my room or you'll have Blaise and Theo coming down too to check on me. And Malfoy trying to get me in trouble, I suppose."
"You do that. Thanks, Harry."
He excused himself and walked to his dorm room. He changed into his bedclothes, took off his earrings, and went off to brush his teeth and wash his face as quietly as possible. When he settled in his bed that night, he wondered how lonely it must be for Rowle to have to pretend all the time. He was glad the boy had Safaa, thought Harry, even if they couldn't be publicly together.
Fred Weasley sent a mental word of gratitude to Harry Potter for thinking up this whole fundraising business. He and his twin built a stand of prototype prank items, tailored to suit the occasion. All the profit would go toward buying mature mandrakes of course, but it was good advertisement for their future joke shop. They had mandrake plush toys which screamed when you squeezed them, potioned sodas giving the drinker cat ears and whiskers in honour of Mrs Norris, and fake wands which turned into rubber snakes. Among other things. Fred could see the people working at Zonko eyeing their products with expectant eyes, but he pretended not to notice. He did wiggle his eyebrows at George though, who grinned as he noticed them too.
He sent a thumbs up at Lee who was walking by the different stands with a megaphone, presenting the different displays and hyping everyone up for the fund. Hogsmeade was very crowded that day, which was unusual for the sleepy village. It was one of the smallest magical enclaves, and if it were not for the school being right next to it the inhabitants would probably see little to no circulation.
Someone whistled at his right. Fred turned toward his potential client and grinned when he met Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs, who were close to Harry's cousin. Higgs had come a few times to their friendly quidditch plays though he rarely participated, preferring to nap instead. Gred thought he remembered Harry telling them he suffered from an insomnia curse. The Curse of the Vigil, supplied Forge in his mind. Higgs was a bit too serious for their taste, but he was the perfect straight man to his friend's exuberance. Adrian was good fun and a pretty smart guy. He liked to tinker with muggle machinery and reconstruct magic-compatible versions of them. The twins thought he'd get along well with their father.
"That's ingenious," said Higgs, inspecting their display.
"Harry did say you guys were brilliant but I'll admit I wasn't expecting that," agreed Adrian.
"Little Harrikins said that?" said George, batting his eyelashes.
Fred pretended to swoon.
"Our little snakey friend is so good to us," he exclaimed, fanning himself.
The older boy chuckled, looking delighted while Higgs groaned.
"Introducing you guys was the worst mistake Harry ever made."
"I don't know what you mean," said the twins and Adrian in tandem before staring at each other, dumbfounded.
"Huh," said George.
"That's new," added Fred. "Have we acquired a triplet?"
They exchanged a smirk.
Adrian whined. "Wait, I'm older than you!"
"It's fine, you can be Percy's funny twin and we'll steal you for ourselves. We just need to make you a Weasley now," decided Fred.
"How do you feel about red hair?" continued his twin.
"And some freckles of course."
The twins directed a slightly evil grin at Adrian. The Slytherin gulped before hiding behind Higgs who was snickering.
"Terry! Protect me!"
"Neville and his friends are staying in the castle," said Harry without looking up from his parchment. "Gemma's court is too so I asked her to keep an eye on him when she can."
He was writing a letter to his guardian to confirm Blaise would stay with them for the winter holidays. He knew Ulrich had already agreed in the summer, but he preferred to be sure, especially when they had to coordinate with the Italian prince's bodyguard and his own social calendar. This year, it was House Patil that would give a Winter ball for the Alliance members; the Greengrasses and Abbotts had invited them to their gala, and Harry had to be present for the first moon blessing of a branch member of House Fawley, a third cousin of Gemma's who was just born this month. The Slytherin first year Tristan Harper, who was also a member of the Longbottom Alliance, had invited them to his birthday too, remembered Harry, sighing a little at the amount of socialising he would have to do.
"His grandmother is okay with that?" asked Daphne, raising a brow. She was reading a science fiction book Adrian had lent her about space travel. She and Theo were sitting on the common room's couch with him. Tracey and Blaise had left an hour ago; they were playing in a chess tournament with the Ravenclaws.
"Judging by how white he was when he told me, I don't think so. But he convinced her somehow."
"Why, though? If I was Granger I wouldn't want to stay anywhere near Hogwarts while the petrifications are still happening."
"Do you think it has to do with whatever they stole from Snape's cupboards?" asked Theo.
Harry chuckled, remembering the incident. Gryffindors were so unsubtle it was painful.
"Considering what happened last year, I guess they're trying to solve the mystery again."
"I wonder who they're accusing this time."
"I'll leave them to it," said Harry, shaking his head. He put down his quill and levitated his envelope to him. He'd be going to the owlery before it was time to see Poppy for his Healing class. She was going to teach him a charm to control blood coagulation. He tried not to think about how he would have to help her get nutrients into Finch-Fletchley and Creevey's petrified bodies too. It was difficult to watch his year mate in such a state, let alone the tiny underclassman who used to follow Neville around. But healing wasn't always glamorous. He still preferred that from having to clean up Ron's slug-vomit like he had to do last time his spell backfired on him. He really needed to learn the vanishing charm.
"You're not interested in playing Auror?" said Theo, who was half dozing at his side, fiddling with his tie to loosen it.
He'd used up too much magic by making enchantments with the kit his father had sent him - Harry suspected he was preparing gifts for the winter solstice - and had been drowsy and sluggish since.
"Not really. We have so much to do already with our classes, supporting Gemma's court and helping the firsties. Then we all have our personal projects, it would be exhausting to chase evil wixen on top of that. I think Nev's gran spent too long telling him about how cool his father was so he's trying to follow her expectations."
"You mean on top of the fact that everyone expects him to be some sort of fairy tale hero when they don't act like he's a budding Dark Lord?"
"On top of that, yes."
"It must be stressful," commented Daphne.
Harry hummed.
"He handles it well, considering."
"You know people used to write in the papers that offing You-Know-Who made him lose his magic?"
The Potter heir scowled.
"His great-uncle spread that rumour."
"The same guy who threw him out of a window?"
"Mhm. I think the guy wanted to declare him an unfit lord so his son could inherit. He also spread rumours about Nev's mother, saying that her family produces a lot of squibs. And they're still in contact with him."
Daphne wrinkled her nose. Theo was too tired to make any sort of expression, but Harry could tell he was just as disgusted.
"Longbottom's mother was a Fortescue, wasn't she," she said pensively.
"She was," confirmed Harry.
Alice Longbottom was his godmother; he'd made sure he knew about who she had been, both out of respect for Neville and for his mother who had loved and trusted her enough to make him Alice's godson. She had been five years older than Lily Potter and Harry's mother admired her a lot. Remus had explained that Lily wasn't very close with her year mates in Gryffindor. When she wasn't hanging out with Severus Snape, she was trailing after Alice in the common room. Alice, who was a prefect at the time, treated her like a little sister and they wrote to each other even after Neville's mother left Hogwarts. Considering who Lily Evans' older sister actually was, Harry understood why she had bonded with the older girl. He liked to think their relationship would have been a little similar to the one he had with Gemma now.
"She was first of her Auror class apparently, and very magically powerful. I don't know what Nev's great-uncle was on about."
"She was pretty cool," added Daphne. "She dueled You-Know-Who to a standstill once, and there's evidence that the only reason he managed to kill her that Halloween night was because she didn't have her wand in hand. A lot of people praise Frank Longbottom because he was the last one standing, but I think it's undermining her sacrifice."
Harry glanced at his side; Theo had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He continued in a lower voice.
"It has a lot to do with the fact that Fortescue's not a noble House. People seem to think we have more magical power than others for some reason."
"I don't know if there's any basis to that. It's probably propaganda, right?"
"It is. Madam Pomphrey told me magical potential's not genetic. You can measure the density, potency, and width of someone's magical core so the Department of Mysteries made a survey. Statistically, there's no correlation between the power of a parent and that of their child. Core behaviour like your House's tendency to give off a cold feeling is inherited but that has nothing to do with power."
"Don't say that to a blood supremacist, they'd have a stroke," chuckled Daphne, her laugh barely higher than a whisper.
Harry smirked.
"It's their fault for ignoring magical research and trying to pretend their prejudice is based on actual facts."
"Hm. Wixen are just not logical sometimes." Daphne pointed at her book. "Even when muggles write fiction, there's a rhyme and a reason to it. I wish we were the same."
"Oh, there are as many illogical muggles as there are wixen. You should hear the kind of things my Uncle Vernon believed in…"
"I don't understand why you don't get angry at Malfoy," said Padma, shaking her head.
She, Parvati, Su-a and Lavender had decided to sit with Harry's Slytherin group on the train ride to King's Cross station. It was a little cramped, but they managed to make it work. Of course, that meant she'd witnessed what was apparently a cursory visit by the Malfoy heir. Padma thought it was ridiculous that the boy had made it a habit to seek his Housemates out on the train just to insult them and leave. What even was the point of that, she wondered.
"Oh, that's because we tune him out. He talks and in my head, it goes, 'blah, blah, blah, my father, blah, blah, blah, pauper lord, blah, blah, blah, I stole your quidditch position. It's not like he has anything new to say."
"Harry gets angry sometimes, but Malfoy doesn't know what sets him off," said Blaise with a rueful grin.
"What, there's a pattern to it?"
"Are you giving people lessons on how to insult me, Blaise?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow.
"I wouldn't dare," replied his best friend with a smirk before smoothly changing the subject.
They talked about the incoming January exams, which Padma wasn't too worried about. She had been third in the overall ranking last year, actually beating Malfoy by two points. And this year, it looked like she might even beat Harry who had slipped a little due to everything going on. Parvati mentioned that to the Potter heir, ribbing him good-naturedly. Padma could tell that while her sister didn't actually care about grades, she was very proud of her.
Harry took it with grace, rubbing the back of his nape.
"I'm good at practical magic but it's true that the theory part becomes a problem for me if I don't study regularly. I should really get back to it."
"But you're worried," remarked Su-a with an understanding smile.
"We all are," corrected Harry. "I shouldn't let it get to me so much."
Theodore Nott, who was sitting on his right poked him in the forehead.
"Stop beating yourself up," he admonished, before returning to his book.
They all chuckled a little at that. Padma was a little envious of their friend group. She got along fine with her classmates, but she'd only really bonded with Su-a. Parvati was the same with Lavender, though Padma could sometimes see them hanging out with Finnegan and Thomas.
"Anyway, my mission is to dethrone Hermione Granger," she said brightly, "so I have to beat you first."
Tracey whistled.
"That's an ambitious goal. She had perfect grades all over, didn't she?"
"Yes, I don't know how she does it. It seems like she knows exactly what the professors want us to say."
Blaise shook his head.
"No, that's not it. Have you seen her essays? She always writes three feet longer than what is asked for. She gets extra credit for it."
"Well, you know what to do Padma," said Parvati with a grin.
Padma sighed a little.
"I'll have to say goodbye to my free time."
"You know what I really want?" asked Tracey suddenly. "I want to convince Weasley to join the chess tournament. Didn't the headmaster give him fifty points for a game of chess?"
"That's right! Why hasn't he joined yet?"
"I think he doesn't know it exists," said Harry thoughtfully. "Nev' and his friends are pretty secluded, aren't they?"
Parvati scoffed. Padma prepared herself for the incoming rant. Her twin had a lot of thoughts about that. As the heir of the British branch of their House, she was extremely concerned with the politics of it all.
"Tell me about it! They only ever hang out together. Neville spends time with you or Susan and Hannah sometimes because of your family links but that's it. His House is the leader of the Alliance, and he only talks to us when it's mandatory. We're called the Longbottom Alliance for Merlin's sake! We have the chance to have so many Heirs at Hogwarts right now, we should be strengthening those relations!"
"I get what you mean, but we're still kids. Hogwarts is a school, we're here to make friends and to learn," said Daphne. Padma remembered her family was the head of the Greengrass Alliance too, who led the more neutral Houses in the Wizengamot. They emphasised traditions more than muggle-born integration but didn't have the bigoted views of the Malfoy camp. "Besides, McLaggen is part of the same House Alliance as me and I would rather kiss a flobberworm than spend more than a minute with him."
That comment and her revolted expression drew a round of laughter.
"Nev's uncomfortable in crowds and he doesn't like the scrutiny that comes with being the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm not too surprised he sticks to Ron and Hermione the way he does," said Harry. "And Hogwarts is actually a good place to get people to our side," he added with a grin, glancing at Nott.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm not joining Longbottom," protested the boy. "My father is talking to Daphne's mom, we'll be sitting with the Greengrasses at the next Wizengamot session."
Padma exchanged a look with Su-a, her sister and Lavender. After years of silence, House Nott was leaving the purists' camp? That was interesting. There were currently five camps in the Wizengamot: two of them, the Revealers and the Isolationists were at minority. They wanted respectively to get rid of the Statute of Secrecy and to move the entirety of Wizarding Britain to a closed enclave away from the muggles. Padma privately thought they were both nutters. Then there was the Longbottom Alliance of Progressives, who wanted equal rights and opportunities for muggle-borns and magical creatures along with a better relationship with the muggle government, and the Greengrass-led Traditionalists who had similar goals except for their more isolationist position and their emphasis on bringing back the traditions of Merlin's time - which Padma privately agreed with, but she thought it might be too difficult to do. Finally, there were the Purists of Lord Malfoy, who were so blatantly You-Know-Who sympathisers it wasn't even funny.
"We'll convince you yet," said Harry with a good-natured grin.
"Wait, is that why you were invited to the gala? Theo! You should have told me!"