The sun barely peeked over the horizon when Ezekiel arrived at the Ministry of Magic for the Wizengamot session. Dressed in deep navy robes embroidered with the Ravenclaw crest, he strode through the grand hallways, his presence already drawing whispers.
At just fifteen, he was the youngest active Lord in the Wizengamot—a fact that didn't sit well with many of the older, more traditional members. But Ezekiel wasn't here to win their approval.
As he entered the grand chamber, his father, Thomas Malverne, stood waiting.
"You've made quite the impression already," Thomas murmured. "The Prophet has been writing about your Quidditch career, but some of these Lords are more interested in your stance on Dementors."
Ezekiel's gaze swept over the gathered members, most already seated. "Good. Then they're listening."
---
The discussions began, and as expected, the debate over Dementors at Hogwarts took center stage.
"They are a necessary deterrent!" one of the older Lords argued. "With Black on the loose, the students need protection."
Ezekiel leaned forward. "If Dementors were reliable, Black wouldn't have escaped in the first place." His voice was calm but firm. "We are exposing young students to creatures that drain happiness and have no loyalty. If we continue down this path, what happens when they turn on the wrong target?"
A few murmurs of agreement echoed through the chamber.
One of his allies, Lord Greengrass, spoke up. "Lord Ravenclaw makes an excellent point. These creatures should never be near our children."
The debate raged on, but Ezekiel knew he had planted the seed of doubt in the minds of many.
As the session ended, his father clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You handled that well. Some of them will never change their views, but you have influence now."
Ezekiel smirked. "That's all I need."
---
The next morning, the Daily Prophet ran a full-page article:
"Youngest Professional Chaser in History – Lord Ravenclaw Takes the Field for Falmouth Falcons!"
The article detailed how Ezekiel, at only fifteen, had secured a starting position with the Falmouth Falcons—a feat unheard of for someone his age.
Daphne smirked as she read through it. "Looks like you're famous in both the political and Quidditch worlds now."
Fleur, who had arrived the night before, set down her tea. "It is impressive. But now, you must prove you deserve that spot."
Ezekiel chuckled. "No pressure, right?"
---
The Falmouth Falcons vs. Montrose Magpies match was the most anticipated of the season. Thousands filled the stadium, the energy in the air electric.
Ezekiel stood in the Falcons' locker room, his new navy-blue and silver robes draped over his shoulders. The weight of expectation was immense—but he thrived under pressure.
His teammates clapped him on the back as they prepared to take the field.
"First match, Malverne," their Captain, Derrick Flint, said. "Show them why we put you on the starting lineup."
Ezekiel grinned. "Don't worry, Captain. I plan to make history today."
As they stepped onto the field, the roar of the crowd was deafening. In the VIP stands, his family and friends sat watching—Daphne, Fleur, Alys, his parents, and even some Hogwarts professors.
The whistle blew, and the match began.
Ezekiel soared into the sky, his broom carrying him effortlessly as he dodged opponents and maneuvered with precision. His first professional match was underway, and he was about to prove that Lord Ravenclaw wasn't just a name—it was a legacy.
---