The first morning of the new school year at Hogwarts was always a mix of excitement and chaos. Students rushed to get to breakfast, chattering about their schedules, their professors, and whatever rumors had started spreading overnight.
Ezekiel sat at the Ravenclaw table, calmly sipping his morning tea as Elena and Adrian debated the difficulty of third-year courses.
"You think Arithmancy is going to be harder than Ancient Runes?" Adrian scoffed. "Runes are a whole new language."
Elena rolled her eyes. "Arithmancy is complex magical theory. It's not just numbers; it's the foundation of spellcraft."
Ezekiel smirked, barely listening. He already knew third-year subjects were a step up, but nothing he couldn't handle.
His attention briefly flickered to the Slytherin table.
Alys and Daphne sat together, their heads close in discussion. Alys looked excited about something, while Daphne maintained her usual composed expression.
They were adjusting well.
---
Halfway through breakfast, Professor Flitwick arrived, handing out schedules to the third-year Ravenclaws.
Ezekiel glanced over his. Everything was as expected—Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts…
Then his gaze landed on an unexpected subject.
"Magical Politics and Diplomacy?"
Adrian leaned over. "Did you sign up for that?"
Ezekiel frowned. "No."
Elena narrowed her eyes. "Maybe Professor Flitwick knows about your… status."
Ezekiel pursed his lips. His position as Lord Ravenclaw was still fresh, but it made sense that Hogwarts would acknowledge it. Politics were now a part of his life whether he wanted them to be or not.
"Looks like I have a new subject," he muttered.
---
Later that morning, Ezekiel entered a small, well-lit classroom that was surprisingly empty. Only a handful of students were present—mostly older students from fourth, fifth, and sixth year.
At the front stood Professor Marchand, a sharp-eyed witch with graying hair and a strict posture.
"Ah, Lord Ravenclaw," she greeted as he entered. "I was expecting you."
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow but took his seat.
The class began with discussions on wizarding laws, influential families, and the shifting political landscape.
"Politics is about control," Marchand stated. "Power is dictated by knowledge, alliances, and the ability to influence those around you."
Ezekiel listened intently. He already understood the importance of power and control—this class would be useful.
He had no doubt that his father, Thomas Malverne, had arranged for this behind the scenes.
He wasn't just preparing for Hogwarts anymore. He was preparing for the future.
---
After class, Ezekiel left the room, deep in thought.
He didn't expect to run into someone waiting for him.
Standing by the corridor, arms crossed, was Daphne.
She looked at him, her expression unreadable. "You didn't tell me you were taking politics."
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. "I didn't choose it. It was added to my schedule."
Daphne nodded, as if she expected that. "It makes sense. You're a lord now."
She hesitated before adding, "I need to start learning, too."
Ezekiel studied her for a moment.
She wasn't just talking about school.
Daphne Greengrass—his future wife, thanks to the contract—was preparing for her own role.
"Then we'll learn together," he said simply.
Daphne gave him a small, satisfied nod.
"Good."
---