In general, the situatio of house-elves was far from ideal. Worse, even, than most magical creatures.
Their unique traits dictated their current condition: slavery.
Pure-blood wizarding families had owned house-elves for generations, and their servitude had been ingrained into their very being.
As William had pointed out, improving their situation wouldn't be a short-term task.
Of course, most people weren't even aware of the miserable conditions house-elves endured.
If a house-elf served an ordinary wizarding family, they usually wouldn't be treated too harshly, as they were considered valuable property.
No one wanted to waste such an asset.
In fact, in a household like the Weasleys, the elf's status might even surpass Ron's, since one elf could do the work of nine people.
Only a fool wouldn't treat such a hardworking servant well.
But in pure-blood families, it was a different story. Wealthy pure-blood families didn't care about losing one or two house-elves.
Had no one, over the years, ever considered improving the condition of house-elves?
Of course, there were such individuals.
The Ministry of Magic even had a House-Elf Relocation Office, a sub-department of the Beast Division under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
This office was responsible for the placement and relocation of house-elves.
Even Newt Scamander, the famous magizoologist, had worked in this department for two years after joining the Ministry of Magic.
He described those two years as "excruciatingly dull" and eventually couldn't bear the monotony, opting to resign and go on his adventurous journeys.
Under Dumbledore's persuasion, Newt had traveled to America, where he narrowly avoided execution.
If even someone as introverted as Newt couldn't endure the boredom, it was evident just how idle this department was.
Since there were so few house-elves to begin with, the Ministry of Magic was unable to improve their living conditions.
This situation persisted until 1973 when the Magical Congress of the United States became the first to abolish house-elf slavery.
The move prompted some British wizards to petition against house-elf slavery, arguing that British wizarding society should cease its exploitation of house-elves.
However, the Ministry of Magic dismissed the petition that same year.
"Why was it rejected?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
"Because of the war," William explained seriously, "At that time, Voldemort was rising, and Death Eaters were running rampant.
"Families that owned house-elves were mostly pure-blood families.
"The Ministry needed to win their support, not abolish a system that seemed trivial, which might push those neutral families into Voldemort's camp."
Politics is about compromise, and the Ministry of Magic's compromise had continued to this day.
"Isn't there any way to solve this?" Hermione asked.
A solution? Of course, there was.
Why did goblins have the power they wield today? Why did they control Gringotts independently?
Why didn't they meet the same fate as house-elves?
Because they had resisted.
The Goblin Rebellions had lasted over two centuries.
During that time, both wizards and goblins grew weary of the conflict, leading to a new agreement between the two sides.
If house-elves wanted the same status as goblins, they'd need their own version of a "tavern uprising."
They'd need to gather armed rebels and storm Azkaban. If possible, they might even need to send a couple of Ministers for Magic to the gallows.
That would be ideal.
But such an event wasn't likely to happen anytime soon. After all, servitude ran deep in the bones of house-elves.
Still, among so many house-elves, there might be one or two exceptions, those who were more self-aware.
William thought Dobby, for instance, seemed like one of them.
So, while the house-elf slavery issue wasn't an immediate concern, it was a tricky long-term problem.
The Magical Congress of the United States had foreseen this, learning from the goblins' lessons. They had snuffed out the problem early to avoid house-elves poisoning their owners' food in the future.
Eventually, reform in Britain would also become inevitable.
But who would lead such a movement?
William patted Hermione's head, clearly noticing that the idea had already taken root in her mind.
This wasn't about betraying her class but rather ensuring the wizarding world's survival.
Abolishing slavery would undoubtedly earn a place in magical history, perhaps even a Merlin Award.
But the obstacles were significant.
Reforms imposed from above were never easy. They required the redistribution of power, which would hurt the interests of many stakeholders.
Naturally, those people would resist.
However, times were changing.
Most pure-blood families owned house-elves, but pure-blood ideology was already in decline.
If not for Voldemort's resurgence, this relic of history would have long been swept away by Dumbledore.
Voldemort's eventual downfall would mark the end of pure-blood resistance.
That would be the perfect time for reform.
A person's fate depended on their efforts but also on the course of history.
And the course of history was heading in that direction.
The future Ministry of Magic would need a determined and charismatic leader to enact such monumental changes.
William understood Hermione better than anyone. Once she decided something was right, she'd pursue it with all her might.
That's the kind of girl Hermione was!
If she wanted to achieve this, William would certainly support her.
It would be best if Hermione became Minister for Magic, the most powerful woman in the British Isles.
What, lacking political resources?
Nonsense. Hermione's greatest political resource was... William.
Why did Fudge often defer to Dumbledore?
Because he needed the public to see that he had Dumbledore's support.
With Dumbledore's influence, any wizard, no matter how mediocre, could rise to power.
Fudge wielded Dumbledore's name as a banner while simultaneously trying to diminish his influence.
Did Dumbledore know?
Of course, he did.
He just didn't care.
In the magical world, personal strength mattered more than political power.
This was a fantastical, hero-driven world.
Voldemort's immense power allowed him to overthrow the Ministry of Magic.
Similarly, after seven years of surviving the time loop, William, with the Ravenclaw ring and Nicolas Flamel's guidance, was destined to become a Dumbledore-like figure.
His influence would spread across the British Isles.
In fact, his influence was already expanding. At Hogwarts, he had a sizable fan base.
As the youngest recipient of the Merlin Award, many considered him Dumbledore's successor.
Once Dumbledore passed away, William could simply say, "I trust you to handle this," and that would be enough.
Hermione didn't need any pure-blood family backing. With William's support, she could easily rise to power.
Of course, that depended on whether Hermione wanted to become Minister for Magic.
Wait... Should they consider establishing a European Magical Union in the future?
Hermione could serve as Britain's Minister for Magic, while William could be the chairman of the "Euro-Magical Union." Wouldn't that be perfect?
"William, what are you thinking about?" Hermione asked, blushing, "You're messing up my hair."
"Oh, sorry." William quickly withdrew his hand.
"I was thinking about how to help you solve the house-elf problem," he replied cheerfully.
He had just gotten a bit carried away, his thoughts wandering all the way to the "Euro-Magical Union."