Cygnus Greengrass led me through the final corridor in silence, the murmur of voices growing louder with every step. Whatever room the Wizengamot chose for its deliberations, it clearly wasn't lacking in gravitas.
The doors opened.
Calling it a meeting room felt laughably insufficient. It was a courtroom, the courtroom, tiered stone benches rose in steep arcs around the room, each occupied by robed witches and wizards whose names carried weight, history, and far too much political baggage. Ancient family crests were carved into the stone above their seats, some polished with pride, others worn down by centuries of irrelevance.
At the front stood Albus Dumbledore.
Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
He was unmistakable in his position, framed by the great engraved emblem of magical Britain, hands folded serenely in front of him as if he weren't presiding over the most powerful governing body in the country. His eyes found mine immediately, and a faint, knowing smile tugged at his beard.
Of course he's enjoying this.
Cygnus guided me to the designated place near the center floor, then stepped aside. The doors behind us closed with a heavy, final thud, sealing the room, and my fate, shut.
Dumbledore cleared his throat lightly.
The sound echoed.
"Witches and wizards of the Wizengamot," he began pleasantly, voice carrying without effort, "thank you for your punctuality. We have several matters to attend to today, but before we begin, there is one formality that must be addressed."
His gaze turned toward me.
"The House of Lockhart."
A ripple went through the chamber. Curiosity. Skepticism. More than a few poorly disguised smirks.
Dumbledore gestured, and I stepped forward, standing alone in the open space before the dais. I could feel hundreds of eyes on me, weighing, judging, measuring whether I was worth the stone my family crest would be carved into.
Dumbledore spoke again, tone formal now.
"Gilderoy Lockhart, by decree of the Wizengamot and with the sponsorship of an ancient House, you have petitioned for the recognition of a new magical House. Do you swear to uphold the responsibilities and obligations that accompany a seat among us? To act in the interest of magical Britain, to speak with honesty, and to bear the consequences of your words?"
The phrasing was careful.
Deliberately non-binding.
If it had been magically enforced, as I had privately noted before, at least a third of the people present would have long since dropped dead.
"I swear," I said clearly.
Dumbledore inclined his head. "Then you may have the floor."
Ah.
Now we were getting to the important part.
I turned, letting my eyes sweep across the room, taking in the assembled witches and wizards, the sceptics, the schemers, the bored aristocrats who thought they already knew exactly what sort of man I was.
Ancient families. Political rivals. Allies I didn't yet know I had. Men and women who had shaped wizarding Britain long before my name ever meant anything.
I smiled.
"Honoured members of the Wizengamot," I began, my voice warm, confident, and just loud enough to command attention, "I would be lying if I said I hadn't imagined this moment."
A few amused murmurs.
"I have spent much of my life being talked about," I continued smoothly. "Sometimes for my accomplishments, sometimes for my personality, and, on particularly entertaining days, both at once."
That earned a handful of chuckles.
"But today, I stand here not as an author, nor a professor," I said, letting the words settle. "I stand here as the founder of a House. A responsibility I do not take lightly."
My smile softened, just a fraction.
"I am not here to pretend I come from some ancient lineage stretching back to Merlin himself. House Lockhart is new. Unproven. And yes," I added lightly, "very much associated with my own rather… vocal reputation."
A ripple of amusement followed.
"But I did not seek a seat here for prestige. I sought it because this body shapes the future of our world, and I intend to be part of that future, not watching from the sidelines, and certainly not leaving it solely in the hands of those too comfortable to question their own decisions."
I let that settle.
"I will not promise to always be agreeable. I will promise to be honest. I will speak when I believe something is unjust, short-sighted, or dangerous, even if it is unpopular. Especially then."
I opened my arms.
"If that earns me allies, I welcome them. If it earns me enemies… well," I smiled wider, "I've never lacked for those."
I inclined my head slightly toward Dumbledore.
"And always with the future of magical Britain in mind."
Silence followed.
Not the awkward kind, but the considering kind.
Finally, I straightened fully and smiled again, brighter now, unmistakably myself.
"I thank you for this opportunity. I look forward to working with you all."
I stepped back.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.
"Well said," he remarked mildly, before turning back to the chamber. "Let the record show that House Lockhart is hereby recognized and seated within the Wizengamot."
And just like that, I wasn't merely a name whispered in hallways.
I was part of the room where decisions were made.
…
"Now then, let us begin today's session."
Dumbledore's gaze shifted almost imperceptibly toward one particular pink-clad figure.
"Madam Dolores Umbridge has submitted a proposal for consideration."
The distaste in his voice was subtle.
But I caught it.
Umbridge cleared her throat loudly.
"Hem hem~"
I already wanted to hex something.
She rose from her seat, swathed in aggressively cheerful pink, smile tight and unpleasant, eyes glittering with self-satisfaction.
"Thank you, Chief Warlock," she said in a syrupy tone. "My proposal concerns the continued mismanagement of non-human creatures within British territory, specifically, centaurs."
Several members shifted uncomfortably.
Umbridge continued, unbothered.
"Centaurs occupy an excessive amount of land relative to their usefulness to wizarding society. Forests that could be repurposed for development, resource extraction, or proper Ministry oversight are instead squandered on creatures who refuse to integrate, refuse to cooperate, and have a long history of hostility."
Her smile sharpened.
"I propose a reduction of centaur territory by approximately thirty percent, with the excess land reclaimed by the Ministry and placed under regulated control."
The silence that followed was… heavy.
And disturbingly, not entirely disapproving.
I looked around in disbelief as a handful of witches and wizards nodded thoughtfully.
You have got to be kidding me.
Dumbledore folded his hands. "Thank you, Madam Umbridge. Does anyone wish to comment?"
I was already on my feet.
"Chief Warlock," I said smoothly, "if I may."
Dumbledore gestured. "The floor is yours, Lord Lockhart."
Ah. Lord. That was new.
I turned to face Umbridge, then the chamber.
"Let me see if I understand this correctly," I began pleasantly. "Centaurs, a reclusive species who actively avoid human interaction, who live almost exclusively in deep forests that wizards neither inhabit nor meaningfully use… are being punished for not integrating with a society that has spent centuries antagonising them."
I spread my hands.
"Madam Umbridge, their territory is already so limited they can barely stretch their hooves without bumping into our borders. Reducing it further doesn't sound like regulation."
I tilted my head.
"It sounds like you're trying to start an uprising. And if that's the goal, I must say, you're doing an excellent job."
A few people coughed to hide laughter.
Umbridge's face began turning an impressive shade of red.
I continued.
"May I ask," I said, turning to the room, "how many of you have ever actually seen a centaur?"
I raised my hand.
"Hands up."
Only a small handful followed suit.
I gestured to them. "Exactly. Centaurs don't come into our cities. They don't meddle in our politics. They don't compete for our resources. The land they occupy is isolated forestland we have no practical use for."
I fixed Umbridge with a steady look.
"So tell me, what benefit does this proposal serve? Other than provoking a proud, armed, and highly capable species for the sake of reminding them that we can?"
Umbridge sputtered. "They are dangerous creatures! Uncivilised! They refuse Ministry oversight!"
"Because the last time the Ministry tried," I cut in calmly, "it involved chains and forced relocation."
Murmurs spread through the chamber.
"They want autonomy," I continued. "Not dominance. And frankly, if we're discussing creatures that pose a threat to wizarding Britain, centaurs rank rather low compared to some human factions represented in this very room."
That earned a few sharp looks.
Before Umbridge could respond, another voice spoke up.
"Lord Lockhart is correct," Cygnus Greengrass said coolly. "This proposal offers no strategic benefit."
"And invites unnecessary conflict," added Augusta Longbottom.
Amelia Bones nodded. "From a legal standpoint, it's indefensible."
To my surprise, even a man seated among the Dark Faction spoke.
"Pointless provocation," he muttered. "Bad for stability."
Umbridge looked around, visibly panicking now.
"I-I object, this is about order, about control…"
"About prejudice," I said flatly.
Silence.
Dumbledore rose slowly.
"I believe the sentiment of the chamber is clear," he said gently. "The proposal will not pass."
Umbridge sank back into her seat, face blotchy, lips trembling with suppressed fury.
I sat down, heart still pounding slightly.
First day.
First speech.
And already I'd managed to make enemies, which is exactly what Aurora and Rosmerta asked me not to do…
I smiled to myself.
This is going to be fun.
…