TB2020 – The Duke of Hogwarts

“What?” James asked again. The answer his father had given Sirius just hadn’t made sense.

“There is a Duke of Hogwarts,” his father Charlus repeated with more amusement than James thought was strictly necessary. “This is confidential for now, but his name is Harry Potter and he has called us to Gringotts for a meeting.”

“Us?” James asked.

“Us,” his father nodded. “You, Sirius, and myself.”

James glanced at Sirius and found him waiting for his reaction. There wasn’t any way for him to react, really. Hogwarts was the oldest magical institution in Britain. The Duke of Hogwarts was basically their king from a magical perspective and no one could fight with that. Especially no one that was currently attending or had at some point attended Hogwarts.

“When do we leave?” he asked.

“As soon as you are both dressed appropriately,” Charlus said and James and Sirius scrambled for the door.

“Treat this like a Wizengamot meeting, lads,” his father warned, “and you’re on trial for murder.”

So…as formal and impressive as they could manage, James thought through his daze.

They rushed back to James’s room and dressed quickly. Both Remus and Peter had questions but neither James nor Sirius could answer them. The Duke would make his own announcements regarding his existence, House Potter could not risk upsetting any plans the man might have in that regard.

No House could ever survive the Duke’s wrath if they didn’t.

Though...if the man was a Potter—his name was Harry Potter—did that make him a member of House Potter? And if he was, did that make him the lord in place of James’s father or the heir in place of James? He had no idea what any of this meant but there was only one way, one place, for him to find out and that was at the bank.

Charlus provided a portkey to get them to the Bank. They landed inside the bank proper, in the portkey landing area. The state of James’s stomach made him think they were probably in at least the Paris Branch.

All landing sites in every branch of Gringotts were identical, so there were no physical signs for him to be sure.

The door to the landing area opened and a thick, powerful goblin stepped through. Warrior class, James thought.

“Stonefist?” his father asked politely.

“Indeed,” the goblin agreed gravely. “My orders are to search you for security purposes before I allow you to see the Duke. You are each allowed one magical focus, one emergency portkey, and your House rings. All other magical items will be confiscated and secured until you are released from the Duke’s presence.”

His father gave up his wand but kept his staff and two portkeys before he allowed himself to be magically searched.

Neither James nor Sirius had a staff yet. The process of building one was incredibly personal for a human and could not truly be started until after their first magical maturation. Most magical humans didn’t see that before their twenty-first birthday, which was five years away for him and Sirius.

He had already started collecting magical feathers in the hope that some of them could be used for his core when he was old enough, though.

Still the goblin was diligent and searched them.

Sirius didn’t even have a House ring, though he kept his chin high and his lips stiff on the matter.

They were escorted down the hall toward the secure meeting rooms the bank rented out for mind bogglingly large hourly rates. Waiting before the door to the one at the end—the most secure of the rooms—was Lord Arcturus Black.

“Wait here,” Stonefist instructed as he approached the secure door. He laid his hand on the mithril door and pulsed his magic aura against it—a more secure version of knocking. The door opened to him, but the interior was obscured by the heavy security active within the room.

“Sirius,” Lord Arcturus called gently in greeting.

Sirius’s back stiffened. “…Grandfather?”

“Come now, my boy, I have something for you.” Lord Arcturus pulled out a padded leather ring box.

Hurt and confusion flashed over Sirius’s face, but he took the box regardless. When he opened it, James saw it contained the unmistakable Heir Ring of House Black. “But,” Sirius rolled his lips into his mouth and dragged them through his teeth—a sure sign he was upset. “But Mother and Father disowned me.”

“They don’t have the power to disown you,” Lord Arcturus said tartly. “You outrank them within the family magic and have since you were born.”

“But…I ran away.”

“And I can’t blame you,” Lord Arcturus admitted. “After Earl Potter advised me that he would be hosting you for the foreseeable future—as was only right and proper—I investigated the circumstances you had fled. I sentenced your parents to five years of house arrest with no visitors and no owls for their transgressions against you.

“I would have disowned your parents immediately and claimed you myself, but I did not think you would want Regulus to be removed from House Black as well. I will correct that after this meeting, if I was wrong.”

“No,” Sirius shook his head because he had always been the most Hufflepuff person in House Black. Him and his cousin Bellatrix, strangely enough. “But perhaps we could remove him from their influence?”

“Save him from himself,” Lord Arcturus agreed. “Perhaps it is time for a Black to once again attend Beauxbatons.”

“It has been a generation or two.”

Lord Arcturus nodded. “It will be done.”

Magic settled on Lord Black like it was a vow and James had to swallow. He hoped, for all House Black, that they could salvage Sirius’s little brother. Sirius deserved to have at least one member of his immediate family that he could trust—both now and when he eventually became their lord.

The door opened under the hand of a dark haired, dark eyed young man James had never seen before. He had a strong brow, nose, and shoulders. James thought he might be Slavic or Turkic. Clearly from the continent.

“You will enter individually,” he said in a thick accent. It sounded rather musical to James. “Lords, then heirs. Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw.”

He held the door open and James’s father stepped through it with the sort of easy confidence James tried really hard to embody. He rarely felt like he succeeded, especially when Lily was around.

“Ravenclaw?” Sirius asked in surprise.

“What color are ravens, Sirius?” his best friend’s grandfather asked.

“We’re from a bastard line then?” Sirius guessed.

“The mainline died out,” Lord Arcturus answered. “Lady Rowena’s heirs all died before she did, leaving her title to an uncle that only had one daughter—and yes, she was illegitimate. She removed the gender requirement for holding the title while she was the Head of House Ravenclaw.”

“Are all bastard lines named for colors?” James asked.

Lord Arcturus blinked at him and took a moment before answering. “Generally, yes. Muggle ways complicate things of course but in magical noble houses, bastard lines are colors associated with their sigil animal. Black for Ravenclaw. Brown for Gryffindor. Green for Slytherin, though that line gained nobility of their own accord over a hundred years ago now and added grass to their name.”

“The place snakes live,” James nodded. It made sense. Mostly. In a magical sort of way.

“Yes,” Lord Arcturus confirmed.

“If we’re Ravenclaws, what’s with the obsession with Slytherin?” Sirius asked. “Mother and Father are obsessed with Slytherin. So is most of the family.”

“You will not like my answer,” Lord Arcturus warned.

“Tell us any way,” Sirius said, recklessly proving his sorting true.

“Albus Dumbledore,” Lord Arcturus said simply. “The sorting changed dramatically after he took over as headmaster. Because he wanted all of his political enemies in one place, I believe.

“Months before your parents were born his voting bloc passed a law to simplify magical peerage so that our titles matched out names.”

“That’s why you’re Lord of Black, not Lord of Ravenclaw,” Sirius nodded.

“Supposedly it was a measure taken to help muggleborns acclimate to magical society, though I fail to see how such a change did anything but deny purebloods their true heritage unless they are exceedingly, taxingly diligent.”

The door to the secure chamber opened and Duke Potter’s man gestured for Lord Arcturus to enter. Lord Arcturus nodded to them and moved away gracefully.

“You think he’s right?” Sirius asked without looking away from the closed door.

“Everyone in Slytherin is a political enemy of Albus Dumbledore,” James offered. “Not all from families that rival his voting bloc—some of them are neutral—but none of their families have ever sided with him.”

“Gryffindor are his allies,” Sirius said.

“And he lets us get away with too much,” James frowned at the thought. If Dumbledore was deliberately dividing his side from their side…and supporting conflict between the two sides, that was a problem.

One that had every chance of following them even after they left Hogwarts.

Honestly, James knew the Marauders should have been expelled at least three times since the time they formed and started their pranking, but Dumbledore had always stood between them and those consequences. He had never been anything but grateful for it…grateful and arrogant and escalating because he knew he was safe.

Lord Arcturus’s words made that safety feel like an ugly, unacceptable thing.

“I wonder if I can get re-Sorted,” Sirius mused.

James blinked in surprise. “Ravenclaw?”

“If I’m their heir, it’s inappropriate for me to be in a different House.” Sirius sent him a look that James knew well how to interpret.

Sirius was waiting for him to say something horrible and mean.

“We’ll still have classes together,” James offered with a smile and Sirius’s shoulders relaxed. “NEWT-level Runes will be too small for multiple classes next year. It always is. And I was thinking about adding Magical Theory.”

“Evans is planning to take Magical Theory,” Sirius offered, then grinned when James blushed. “We could do Ritual Magic, too.”

“Werewolves can’t take Ritual Magic,” James reminded his best friend. “And Peter doesn’t have the grades for it.”

“I…don’t think we can let them be part of this decision, James,” Sirius admitted. “The long-term benefits of taking the class outweigh any discomfort they might feel about not attending with us or being left behind.

James blinked, that was not the Sirius he had known for so long. That was…almost wise. Sirius had never let wisdom hold more precedence over friendship.

“That’s your heir ring talking,” James guessed.

Sirius shrugged. “I’m not wrong. And Hogwarts wards need updating. Only Lords and Heirs to the Houses can do that. We need to take the class to add Warding to our future education plans.”

“You’re right,” James admitted. “I just hate their disappointment.”

Sirius barely had time to shrug before the door opened again and the Duke’s man nodded to him. James squeezed Sirius’s shoulder and followed the man through the door.

There was a pentagon of tables in the room. His father was sitting alone at one that had a second chair he thought was probably for him. There was an empty table, then Lord Arcturus with an empty chair for Sirius, and another empty table. The fifth table was on a platform, raised a few inches higher than the others.

One young man, approximately his age, sat alone in the center of the high table.

He had the rune of victory carved in his forehead which made James a little sick to think about but other than that he looked…like he imagined his and Lily’s son would look. James blushed and corrected himself—he looked like the son they might have if he ever got her to give him the time of day.

Maybe…maybe Sirius was right. They should take their education and futures more seriously. Maybe that would make Lily Evans look at him like he was more than an expired potion ingredient.

“My heir, your Grace,” his father said as he joined him at his table. “His name is James.”

“Greetings, James of House Gryffindor,” the Duke inclined his head and James gave him a short bow. “Go ahead and bring in the other heir, Viktor. I want everyone in place and warded before Hermione and Fleur return from their errands.”

“As you will, your Grace,” Viktor clicked his heels and gave a short bow.

He was definitely from the continent. James had only seen Drumstrang attendees make such a gesture.

Sirius was soon introduced and seated beside his grandfather.

“The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins have arrived, your Grace. I cannot allow the number of men Slytherin has brought within the chamber.”

Duke Potter frowned. “How many?”

“Six,” Viktor answered. “All powerful and…”

“Marked?” the Duke asked, and James had to swallow back a hiss.

He had heard of the blood terrorist calling himself Lord Voldemort and his growing number of followers—said to be calling themselves Death Eaters. Supposedly they all carried Lord Voldemort’s Mark on their bodies and in their magic which had horrific implications. But he had never thought the man might actually be a lord. Especially not the one true Lord of House Slytherin.

“Yes, your Grace,” Viktor agreed.

Duke Potter sat back and steepled his fingers as he considered that. “Any blood relations?”

“Within the group? Yes. The brothers Rodolphus and Rastaban Lestrange. To the Lord? Not one, your Grace.”

“Only the Lord and their blood heir are allowed in this room. Those are the terms I set with High Chieftain Ragnok and those are the terms all the other Lords have adhered to. Riddle can adhere to them or he can leave, and I will raise someone else into the Slytherin Seat on my council.”

James nearly choked and the name Riddle.

Tom Riddle was a name he was aware of. Professor Slughorn liked to brag about him at Slug Club. He had been a brilliant student. A Head Boy that had performed extraordinary but unspecified services to the school.

James glanced over to catch Sirius’s eye but his brother in all but blood was having a whispered conversation with his grandfather.

James wondered if they were discussing the so-called Lord Voldemort or Bellatrix’s obsession with him. Or maybe they were discussing Bellatrix’s recent betrothal to Rodophus Lestrange, who was apparently a marked follower of the blood-obsessed bastard. Magic knew any one of those subjects needed a discussion or three.

“Give him time to think about it and bring in the Hufflepuffs first.”

“Of course, your Grace,” Viktor clicked his heels and bowed again as he left to do the duke’s bidding.

Viktor returned with Head Auror Amelia Bones and her younger brother Edgar.

“Lord Edgar,” the Duke greeted.

“Duke Potter,” Edgar bowed.

“You and I both know the heir your family magic picked when your father died and yet you wear the Hufflepuff House ring. Why?”

Lord Edgar swallowed hard and glanced at his older sister.

Head Auror Bones met his gaze evenly but did not outwardly react.

“My father made me promise him that I would take up his place as Head of the Family. He demanded it on his deathbed, your Grace I could not deny him.”

“You’re weak,” Duke Potter announced, and James winced. Edgar flinched with shame. “Family magic takes precedence over the desires of individuals within the family. To do otherwise will damage your family magic permanently—possibly killing it—within the year. Is that what you want?”

“I made a promise,” Edgar reminded Potter.

“A mundane promise or a Magical Vow?” Lord Arcturus asked.

Lord Edgar swallowed and flicked a glance at Lord Arcturus. “A promise.”

“Then you know what you have to do,” Lord Arcturus said. “Where is your Hufflepuff spirit? And why are you loyal to one man over the welfare of your entire family?”

“I’m sorry, Amy,” Lord Edgar said almost too softly to be heard.

“You always are.”

Lord Edgar closed his eyes in pain at his sister’s words. He kept them closed as he pulled the Lord Ring off of his finger and held it to his sister.

Amelia Bones stared at her brother’s braced, eyes-closed form for a long time before she nodded and took the ring. “I, Amelia Susan Bones, swear to serve my family magic with honor and justice from this day to my last day. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” Duke Potter echoed. “Welcome to my Council, Lady Bones. Please take your seat.” The Duke gestured to the empty table at his father’s right.

Lady Bones bowed to the Duke and took her assigned chair. The heir chair at her table was still empty.

“Will you declare an heir?” Duke Potter asked. “Your brother, perhaps?”

“No, my family magic will never accept him since he tried to take the head position wrongfully. It will be our brother Richard until one of us has a daughter.”

“Good,” Duke Potter nodded, “this country needs more matrilineal houses…or any matrilineal houses.”

“House Greengrass is matrilineal,” Lord Arcturus offered.

Duke Potter made noise of interest. “Their head of house?”

“Lady Regina Greengrass.”

James knew Lady Regina was on the edges of Lord Arcturus’s voting bloc in the Wizengamot. She voted with them more often than not but had no formal alliances with any of the Houses within the bloc. He wondered if championing her inclusion on the Duke’s Council was a courting gesture for her entry into the Black voting bloc…but it couldn’t be.

There was no guarantee the Wizengamot would still exist or that voting blocs would even matter once Duke Potter took his rightful place in Britain.

“Thank you, Lord Arcturus.

“Mr. Bones, you are dismissed. I expect you to keep the contents of this meeting you have seen so far utterly secret until I have announced myself in Britain.”

“Of course, your Grace.” Edgar bowed to the Duke and left the room.

“Stonefist?”

“Duke Potter?” The goblin stepped forward.

“Summon Mr. Richard Bones and Lady Regina Greengrass and her heir to this meeting, if you would.”

“As you will,” the goblin nodded sharply and left.

“Viktor, Slytherin, please.”

Viktor returned moments after the command was given with a man that looked about Lord Arcturus’s age even though James knew he had to be almost thirty years younger. There was a black rage on his face and in his aura that made James very uncomfortable.

“Tom Riddle,” Duke Potter greeted.

The newcomer hissed. “I am Lord Voldemort.”

“There is no House of Voldemort,” Duke Potter returned evenly, “and I will not declare one.

“You were born Thomas Marvolo Riddle. You were named for your muggle father and squib mother’s squib father. The only alternative to Riddle available to you is Gaunt, but I warn you against assuming that name. The Goblin Horde has a blood feud with House Gaunt thanks to your five-times-great grandfather.”

Meaning the blood terrorist was a.) not a pureblood, b.) not a lord at all actually, and c.) would lose his head before he left the bank if he took any name but that of his muggle father.

Tom Riddle glared but didn’t say anything as he moved to take a seat at the Slytherin table not far to the right of Sirius.

“I didn’t say you could sit,” Duke Potter said sharply.

Riddle hissed and released the chair like he had been burned.

“Do you honestly think I cannot see the crimes you have committed in your magic?” Duke Potter asked. “Kinslaying? Of your maternal and paternal families. Framing your mother’s brother for your crimes? And you’ve severed your soul. More than once.

“Your continued existence is a crime against magic, Riddle. I will not have you on my Council.”

“You cannot deny me my birth right!” Riddle declared in a fury.

“I can deny you anything I want to, Riddle, including your life,” Duke Potter returned.

“I challenge you!” Riddle declared and pulled his wand. “I will kill you and take your place as Duke of Hogwarts! I will rule the magical world forever! It is my destiny.”

James blood froze even as his mind panicked. What madness was this?

“Alright,” Duke Potter said evenly. He stood and straightened his waist coat. “I accept your challenge.”

“Avada—!”

“Die,” Duke Harry hissed.

Actually hissed. The man was a parselmouth, just like him.

Tom Riddle’s wand dropped from his hand as he clutched his chest. He choked up a bit of blood and fell backwards.

“Is he dead?” James couldn’t help but ask as a pair of goblins entered the room to collect the body and a third cleaned up the mess Riddle left behind.

Duke Potter sent him an amused look and held out his hand. Tom Riddle’s wand flew into it. “For now. He created anchors when he severed his soul so, theoretically, he could come back but he’ll have to kill most of his marked followers to do it. Assuming he knows how to do it.”

“Would he make soul anchors without knowing how to use them?”

“Do you have any idea how many magicals set themselves on a path without knowing where it will turn out or how to fully utilize it every day?” Duke Potter snickered, showing his youth for the first time since James had set eyes on him.

James conceded that that was a good point. Magic knew he had done such with every single prank he had pulled at Hogwarts.

He had never stopped to think about how strange it was that no one had ever put a stop to their shenanigans. Or what the long-term consequences of them could be. Not before two well-placed words from Sirius’s grandfather had given everything a new, frightening sort of context.

“My lord, Lady Regina and her niece Celeste as well as Mr. Richard Bones have all arrived.”

“Thank you, Viktor. Let’s maintain the pattern we started with. Stonefist, if you would send out the notices I wrote before the meeting and begin summoning your next list?”

“Of course, your Grace,” both males said and left the room immediately.

“You seem to have this all planned out,” his father offered.

“I learned the cost of recklessness years ago, Lord Potter,” the Duke told him. “And my sister in magic would never allow me to forget it.”

His father gave the duke a small smile and a nod.

“Lady Regina Greengrass,” Viktor announced as he led a beautiful woman into the room.

“My lady,” Duke Potter tipped his head.

“My lord,” Lady Regina gave him a curtsy. “How may the House of Greengrass serve the Duke of Hogwarts?”

“The Slytherin Seat on my Council is empty,” he gestured to the only empty table. “And you have the only remaining blood claim to the House of Slytherin.”

“It would be my honor to serve you and the Realm in this way, your Grace.”

“Welcome to the Council, Lady Greengrass.”

“Thank you, your Grace.” Lady Regina nodded to each of the other lords in turn as she took her seat.

The chamber was quickly filled out with Richard Bones joining his sister, Lady Amelia’s table, and Celeste Greengrass joining her aunt, Lady Regina’s table.

James actually knew Celeste. She was a year behind him and Sirius at school. Slytherin through and through but quiet. He was fairly certain they had never pranked her directly but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gotten caught in any of their snake traps.

He made a mental note to apologize in the event they had pranked her, just to be safe. The peace of the future Council was important. He could not ruin it and survive.

Two women came in unannounced not long after the lower tables were filled. One smiled and greeted the Duke with a kiss on the cheek before taking the heir seat at his table. The other—a half-veela—gave the Duke a respectful bow and stood at the other girl’s right. Viktor moved to mirror her, standing at Duke Potter’s left.

“Now that the council is assembled, we have a lot of work to do,” Duke Potter said. “Britain is on the brink of a new blood war. In fact, it never moved on from the last blood war. Generations of families are languishing in blood politic-centered ignorance and proud of it. Hogwarts has fallen behind the entire world in attendance and educational quality. This all has to be fixed.”

“Your plan, your Grace?” Lord Arcturus asked.

“I have many. First, my sister in magic—Lady Hermione Potter—will be leading Hogwarts reforms. The entire School Board of Governors is fired as of this moment. In the short-term we will act as the Board of Governors. The Headmaster is replaced as well.” Duke Potter turned to Viktor. “Bring in Dr. Fitzgerald.”

Viktor did his usual acknowledgement ritual and left. He returned with one of the most frightening men James had ever seen.

“This is Dr. Fitzgerald. Unlike Albus Dumbledore, he has all of the International Magical Education Association-required certifications to hold the position of Headmaster as well as an International Mastery of History and ten years of experience as a teacher. He is an expatriate that moved to Brazil to live with his wife and daughters because, like me, they are all parselmouths.

“He and his wife have agreed to teach any parselmouths we find at Hogwarts, if the students are interested in the training. Parental consent is not required. Due to the stigma against parselmouths in our country, the children will decide if their parents are even notified of their parselmouth status and that they are training their Magic-given gifts.

“Latent students will be given the option to awaken their magical gifts once they are of age. This goes across the board for any magical talents—identification, training, and awakening if necessary.

“This is a tradition of Hogwarts that Headmaster Armando Dippet killed during his long reign as Headmaster and we will revive it.”

“That tradition and the tradition of inviting every student eligible to attend regardless of blood status were the things that put Hogwarts ahead of other schools in the international community,” Lady Hermione added. “Bringing them back is the least of what we will do for the school.”

“She’s right,” Duke Potter nodded. “Dr. Fitzgerald, if you would join us?”

A new table appeared, changing the configuration into a box with the new table directly across from Duke Potter.

Fitzgerald took his seat as instructed and gazed up at the Duke. “I visited Hogwarts on my journey from Brazil. I did not attempt to enter to avoid bringing Dumbledore’s attention to my travels but I can tell you that I will require the school be cleansed and the warding scheme renewed before I allow my daughters to attend.”

“I magically received control of the school when I formally accepted my title in ritual last night,” Duke Potter told their new Headmaster. “Headmaster Dumbledore is about to be physically removed from the school. High Chieftain Ragnok is acting as my proxy in this matter.”

“Once he has confirmed Dumbledore is either dead or removed, you may go to the school to begin touring it with the team the high chieftain will assign to setting the school to rights. They will follow your instructions.

“Because the school year has just ended, the staff will still be in place. I want you to interview them and review their qualifications,” Duke Potter instructed. “If they do not meet the IMEAs standards for their positions and cannot or will not attempt to meet them before the new school year begins, they are fired.

“I want you to give local hires that meet the IMEAs standards some precedence, but I fully expect at least half the staff to be replaced with international hires. I respect Hogwarts’s traditions but clearly, they have been allowed to go too far.”

“Of course, your Grace.”

“We will be adding a number of classes to expand the course catalog back to where it belongs,” Lady Hermione added. “And inviting everyone of age to attend Hogwarts to come next year for their education. First Years will be added as normal, but we will have to form special programs to handle everyone older than that.”

“It's doable.” Dr. Fitzgerald wandlessly conjured a piece of paper and a self-inking quill to make notes. “How will you get this past the Ministry? I understand they have held a stranglehold on the school through financial means.”

“I am the Ministry,” Duke Potter told Dr. Fitzgerald. “No one else gets any say in the matter.”

“Re-Sorting?” James interjected and everyone turned to look at him. He tried not to fidget. “I recently began to suspect that Headmaster Dumbledore has been influencing the Sorting Hat in inappropriate ways. The Hat should be cleansed, and everyone re-Sorted.”

Duke Potter glanced at Lady Hermione who shrugged agreeably. Then he looked at Dr. Fitgerald who just nodded and kept making notes.

“Very well. I will have the goblins evaluate the Hat for magical interference and if they find evidence of undue influence, it will be cleansed and every attending student will be re-Sorted over the holiday. If there is no evidence of undue influence, re-Sorting will be offered but not mandatory over the same period.”

“Yes, your Grace,” Lady Hermione agreed, and they all echoed her sentiments.

His father reached over and squeezed his hand with an approving nod.

“Now, the Ministry is as corrupt as any body I have ever seen. I need someone to volunteer to hunt down and remove corrupted officials—possibly seeing them in Azkaban if they have been criminal in their actions—and someone to begin streamlining departments and personnel. There is a great deal of redundancy and waste within the Ministry. I understand that citizens need jobs but creating them within the governmental authority of the country is wasteful and foolish.”

“And to clean up the laws,” Lady Hermione added. “The sheer volume of blood bigotry in Britain’s laws is outrageous.”

“My sister, as always, is correct. Who would like to volunteer to deal with the corruption? Not as a Ministry official but as a member of this council and one of the five Marquesses in Magical Britain.

“You’re all promoted, by the way,” Duke Potter added almost belatedly.

James put a hand over his face. The entire magical world as he knew it was changing—he thought, and hoped it was changing for the better. It was a relief he didn’t know he had needed, and he found he looked forward to where this all was going and where Duke Potter was taking them.

His Grace Harry Potter, Duke of Hogwarts was a hero. It was no wonder he had the rune of victory carved on his forehead.

James hoped he was half as badass when he grew up.