Wanda?
What use was she?
Was it because she was young and pretty? Or because she had no manners?
Everyone looked puzzled. Only Fleur Delacour wore an expression of understanding.
"Just like what you've always been doing, John," Fleur said with a bright smile. "Creating a spokesperson."
Draco suddenly understood. "Just like me, a spokesperson for Quidditch."
Beside him, Astoria pinched Draco's waist under the table, making him suck in a sharp breath.
Cedric quietly twisted the knife. "You might have misunderstood your own role."
"Misunderstood?" Draco snapped. "You traveling kangaroo who's never home, what right do you have to question my place in the Quidditch hall of fame?"
"Because you've never dropped out of the top three for Quidditch's annual most hated player award," Neville said dryly.
Rather than feeling ashamed, Draco took pride in it. "That's because they have no taste. Victory is all that matters!"
"Losers belong under your feet, looking up at you."
It was an eminently punchable remark, worthy of Draco, Hogwarts' most hated student and the man who had won the most hated player award three years running even after retiring from Quidditch.
"All right, back to the matter at hand." John stopped Draco's verbal battle with everyone, interlacing his fingers beneath his chin. "The arrival of the superhero era means the whole world will enter a new way of dealing with one another."
"One superhero can wield the power of an army, or even a nation."
John raised an eyebrow. "Sokovia is an excellent example."
At the mention of her homeland, Wanda looked at John.
Compared with the others, John's existence was even more incredible.
There was something unique about him, like a vortex leading into darkness, impossible to see through.
As the person in question, Wanda asked, "What do you want to