So…I'd kind of forgotten about ever continuing this fic until I was randomly searching my files and found the beginning of this chapter. Then I read the old ones and—while they are certainly of a lower quality than my more recent work—they got me wanting to finish this chapter. That, and some of the more recent reviews made me realize that there are people who really like this idea. I can't guarantee that I'll update this story in a timely fashion, but we'll just see how it goes.

Ok, so, as promised a return to Professor Pemberly's study hall. You guys really seem to like him. Thanks go to Anon for pointing out to me that this fic was listed as complete—it was originally a one-shot, so I likely forgot to change it to in-progress when I continued it. That's been fixed. At any rate, on with the fic!

Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock

Chapter Five:

Opportunity Knocks

"Neville? Neville, you even in there?"

"I think he must have died of shock. He's been that way since breakfast."

"I suspect the Startling Striped Stigoppers. They're quite well known for their—"

"Stop it, the lot of you. Maybe he's actually utilizing his study hall instead of chatting away like you three."

Neville was in fact quite aware that his four friends were talking about him. He just didn't seem to be able to tear his gaze from the parchment in his hand. At breakfast, he had received an owl with an official looking envelope with the Ministry seal upon it. Feeling slightly nervous, mostly because of the conversation they had had with Harry and Ron the last Hogsmeade weekend, he had opened the letter to read its contents.

Dear Mr. Longbottom,

We write to inform you that as heir to the House of Longbottom and being of age, you are now eligible to campaign for the House of Lords, High Branch of the Wizengamot. Please note that you must inform the Ministry of your decision either to accept or decline, no later than December 31st of this year.

We await your response,

Tiberius Ogden, Chief Warlock

His gran had mentioned this once or twice, but during that time when she'd nearly given up on him as a wizard she had stopped, and it had honestly slipped his mind. Neville had always intended to decline, anyway. But now…

"Are you sure you're alright?"

He finally tore his eyes from the inked in words, looking up at a concerned Ginny Weasley.

"Of course. I just- got something in the mail this morning," he informed her.

"Yeah, we saw," said Seamus, once more skipping transfiguration. He wondered when the professor would finally report the Irish boy to McGonagall.

"You want to tell us who it's from?" The redhead prompted, and he sighed before simply retrieving the letter from his bag and laying it out on the desk for them all to see.

"The House of Lords?" Hermione's eyes were wide as saucers. "I never realized your family was eligible for it."

"Well, they're pureblood, so," he shrugged uncomfortably, knowing how touchy blood purity was, especially these days.

"That's wicked though, Neville. You're an heir!" Seamus grinned teasingly at him as he asked, "How should I address you, then, your Lordship?"

"Come off it," he scowled. "And anyway, I thought I wasn't your Lord—aren't you trying to free your country from my influence?" Now it was his friend's turn to frown at the reminder.

"Well, now that we know the Ministry isn't listening to our petitions and they're intercepting our letters to the Prime Minister, that's looking a little harder than I thought. Think you two could call your boyfriends off?" His dorm mate looked to Hermione and Ginny, who both bristled at the comment.

"So what are you going to do?" Luna asked Neville before an argument could start between the three other Gryffindors. When he looked at her in confusion, she elaborated, "Are you going to run for office?"

"Well I- I don't know," he replied truthfully. "I mean, it's not like it'd make much difference anyway—"

"Why?" Hermione interrupted. "Neville, they're practically reserving a seat for you—I'm not sure how the entire Wizengamot works, but I'm sure it's not totally like that."

"What do you mean?" Ginny inquired.

"Well, they've asked Neville if he wants to run for the House of Lords. It's not like they're writing me to join the- oh, I don't know what the other one is—"

"It's just what you would expect, Miss Granger: the House of Commons. Our Ministry borrowed the terms from Muggle Parliament," Professor Pemberly entered the conversation as abruptly as he always did. He was already placing his book down and removing his feet from the desk.

"You mean Parliament's got two houses, too?" Ginny asked.

"That is correct; the House of Lords is the upper house and is in large part hereditary, while the Commons is made up of elected officials."

"I thought your Muggle government wasn't into bribes or purity," Redding snidely remarked and the Muggle Studies teacher tilted his head at the boy in wry acknowledgement.

"Well, there has always been a certain degree of aristocracy in British society. But the majority of the Lords cannot merely take their place; they have to be appointed by the Monarch, who does so on advice from the Prime Minister."

"How's it done here, then?" Seamus spoke up. Professor Pemberly stepped forward, and gesturing in question toward the letter, waited until Neville nodded before picking it up.

"The House of Lords in the Wizengamot has a seat for every pureblood family. Not all of these have to be filled—if no member of a certain family wishes to participate in politics, then it is simply retired until a generation where someone does. In some cases, when a family line dies out—such as, say, the Crouch line—the seat is retired permanently.

"In Mr. Longbottom's case, he is the only heir to the House of Longbottom. His family seat is currently retired and the Wizengamot had to wait until he came of age before inquiring as to whether it will be renewed. The campaign, after all, is mostly to determine if he is qualified, not a competition for votes."

"Is it a competition in the House of Commons?"

"Yes, Miss Martin. The House of Commons has a set number of seats that anyone can run for. All they have to do is convince enough voters that they deserve a seat."

"If it's just a question of whether the Ministry thinks you should be in the House of Lords, why isn't Malfoy in the Wizengamot?" Ginny asked, skeptically. "Or his dad, seems like just the sort of place he'd fit in."

"Ah, that involves a bit of history," the Professor replied, before adding, "Though I assume you're talking of Draco Malfoy and his father, Lucius, Miss Weasley, you might want to remember that not everyone will always share your views—or dislike—of a person." Though the advice was offered up friendly enough, the red-haired girl still blushed to match the flaming strands.

"You're saying we shouldn't talk about them negatively to other people," Hermione surmised, and he nodded.

"In school, it might be alright enough, but in the real world it can seem quite rude. And if you want people to like you and listen to your opinions on important issues, it's not good to let silly grudges get in the way. Respect for others and the respect that they have for you, in whatever you do—and certainly in government—is key." Though he'd been responding to the brunette's statement, the man finished with his eyes on Neville, as if such counsel had really been meant for him. Perhaps it had.

"Professor, what about Malfoy's dad and history?" Seamus broke in, seeming not to bother with giving their former classmate's father much respect.

The study hall teacher hid his amusement well, and placed Neville's letter back on the desk. He then paced back to the front of the classroom, talking as he went, and Hermione apparently remembered she was forgetting to take notes as she quickly retrieved the necessary supplies. "Near the end of the First Wizarding War, several alleged Death Eaters were caught who also happened to be peers in the House of Lords—that's not to say the upper house wasn't the only suspicious part of the Wizengamot; plenty of members in the House of Commons had been found out to be supporters of Voldemort as well."

Though Neville had by now gotten rid of his fear of the infamous wizard's name, several of his classmates hadn't and jumped in their seats. He realized it was the first time the teacher had ever directly mentioned the evil man, and it made him wonder. Why didn't Professor Pemberly have the same aversion for using the near-tabooed name? What had he been doing during the war, during both wars? And just where had he come from, anyway?"

"Many of the captured Death Eaters plead innocence, and that they'd been under the Imperius Curse. Now, whether or not this was true," the Muggle Studies teacher held up a hand to stop the comments just waiting to burst forth. Ginny and Seamus in particular snapped their mouths shut. "It was just as disconcerting. So, as a show of their allegiance to the Ministry—yes, Lucius Malfoy included—they forfeited their family seats permanently."

"That's good," Anthony Hopkins muttered to his seat partner behind Neville. "Imagine how much trouble we'd have had if Malfoy and his cronies had been in charge this time around, too?"

Neville ought to have felt the same; after all, he'd experienced for himself just what Draco Malfoy had been capable of with his goons Crabbe and Goyle to back him up in their Hogwarts days together. But he couldn't help remembering, too, how pale and thin and frightened the blond boy had looked those last couple years. And if his former classmate were to marry and have a child, who knew nothing of Voldemort or Death Eaters…

"Is that really fair, sir?" He finally looked up at the Professor, and he could feel his friends' shocked gazes on him. "Should the Wizengamot really punish those families forever? I mean, I could probably find some ancestor in my family who did, well, something bad, and I still got this letter." He held the parchment in his two hands once again. "What makes me anymore deserving than them?"

He knew the others were looking at him openly in disbelief, and even some disagreement. But when he chanced a glance back up at Professor Pemberly, the man was smiling warmly, like Neville had said the most brilliant thing in the world.

"Maybe not," was his simple answer. "Of course, it's too soon to tell, but perhaps the ban on those families will be lifted someday. What a show of progress that would be."

"What about the seats that can be filled now?" Hermione inquired, obviously trying to distract the others from the dubious looks they were giving the study hall teacher. "I mean, Neville can't be the only one who got a letter. What about, I don't know—Ernie Macmillan! Ernie's of age, too isn't he?"

Neville flushed and looked down at the desk, but it was Luna who replied serenely, "Ernie's father is already a member of the House of Lords. But I'm sure Susan Bones got a letter just like Neville's."

"Why Susan—?" Hermione started to ask, before breaking off with a gasp and staring in horror at him. "Oh, Neville, I didn't mean—your parents—I'm sorry—"

"Mr. Longbottom and Miss Bones will take up the position as Head of their family Houses upon their graduation," the Muggle Studies teacher interjected, and Neville was grateful the man hadn't singled just him out. "But the Longbottom seat would have been offered to Mr. Longbottom this year anyway."

"I know," Neville said softly, surprising himself as he continued, "my dad turned it down because he wanted to be an Auror."

Ginny placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and said, "That's okay, Neville. The Weasleys have been turning it down for centuries; we've probably got the record. Percy was furious when Bill declined." Neville couldn't help but grin with her at the image of the spectacled boy shouting at his older, ponytail-wearing brother.

"He must have been beside himself when the second offer was rejected," the Professor remarked, but Ginny looked at him in bewilderment.

"What second offer?"

"They didn't send it?" When the Gryffindor girl shook his head, he frowned. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Miss Weasley, but your mother's maiden name is Prewett."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, as her brothers had no children before their passing, the Prewett seat should have been offered to the eldest of their next-of-kin. Perhaps you'd have to send in a formal request, in which case, your other brother could possibly take the elder's place."

"Really? Any of us could ask for it?" His friend looked rather interested at the prospect. Before she could say anymore, however, the bell rang, effectively ending the discussion.

Hermione appeared rather reluctant to gather up her things and head down to lunch. "I had so many questions," she complained as they made their way for the door.

"You can always ask, Miss Granger," Professor Pemberly said from the desk, where he was pulling on his by now trademark coat. "That goes for anyone, of course."

Their group of five thanked him politely before making their way into the corridor. "I've got questions, too," Neville said as he glanced down at the letter still in his hand. "I never really thought I'd be considering this, but now…"

"I know, right?" Ginny agreed. "I just thought of the Wizengamot as a bunch of stuffy old people, but now that you've got that letter—"

"I'm not saying you have to, Neville," Hermione started tentatively, obviously still worried about having upset him earlier. "But definitely consider it—this could be our chance."

"I know," he said, feeling both excited and terrified at the prospect, "I know."

So yeah, a lot of my own personal headcannon on how the Wizengamot works, but the stuff about Parliament I looked up, and like Professor Pemberly said the wizards have borrowed some from their Muggle counterparts (even if they'd never admit it). Things are moving into more of a plot now, I think, as I believe you can all see where this is going. At any rate, I thank you for your tremendous patience, thanks for reading and please review!