Unraveling Enforceability: Contractual Ethics in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and the Goblet Of Fire
By Kendall Gouldthorpe, MSU College of Law Class of 2024, MSLR Senior Notes Editor. Special thanks to Online Forum Editor Gabriel Wrobel, who did not immediately turn me away when I told him I wanted to write a law piece about Harry Potter. Your openness to my wacky ideas means the world. And thank you to my family and friends for their support through the writing process. Mom, you will always remain my favorite editor.
Eternal greatness and the Triwizard Cup—that is what awaited any worthy student over the age of seventeen brave enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament. The three worthy competitors, one from each Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons, would face three tasks meant to test each student’s magical prowess in the face of great danger. But entering the tournament was not a decision to be made lightly. To put one’s name in the Goblet of Fire for consideration as each school’s “champion” would establish a binding magical contract. Once chosen, the champions could not have a change of heart; they would have to compete until the end—or die trying.
The Triwizard Tournament was set to take place throughout the schoolyear at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hogwarts is a magical boarding school in the United Kingdom staffed by a collection of incredibly talented professors, all of whom are led by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore—perhaps the greatest wizard of all time. At school, young witches and wizards learn the intricacies of potion-making, proper form in spell-casting, husbandry of magical creatures, defense against dark magic, and many other magical subjects. While an application to Hogwarts is not necessary, magical abilities are, so eleven-year-olds across the United Kingdom anxiously await owl delivery of their Hogwarts acceptance letters. These selected students complete a seven-year rigorous course load, often coupled with extracurriculars such as Quidditch—a magical sport where athletes soar through the air on broomsticks—to ready themselves for careers in the magical world.
Harry Potter, now fourteen years old, is one of the many young wizards and witches in attendance at Hogwarts. But unlike many of his peers, Harry’s past is fraught with heartache and struggle. Prior to receiving his acceptance letter to Hogwarts, Harry had no knowledge of the magical world, or that he was born to two talented wizard parents, Lily and James Potter. As a baby, Lord Voldemort—a dark wizard seeking power and control of the wizarding world—murdered Harry’s parents and attempted to take Harry’s life, leaving Harry’s forehead marked by a lightning bolt scar. Thinking it best to keep Harry away from the inevitable fame that would accompany being “The Boy Who Lived,” Harry was sent to grow up in the Muggle world—the non-magic world—under the care of his abusive aunt and uncle on Privet Drive. The killing curse meant to take Harry’s life rebounded on Lord Voldemort and took his mortal form. Ever since that day, Lord Voldemort’s zealous followers, the Death Eaters, have worked to return their master to full form.
Harry enters his fourth-year hoping to finally have a school year free from Lord Voldemort and the schemes of the Death Eaters. He, like all his fellow students, is excited to watch the Triwizard Tournament and cheer on Hogwarts’s chosen champion. Unbeknownst to everyone, a Death Eater has infiltrated Hogwarts and is on a mission to use Harry to bring his master back to power. The Death Eater charms the Goblet of Fire, which ultimately decides the champions of each school, into believing that Harry Potter has put his name into the cup for consideration as champion of a fourth magical school. When Harry’s name is read as a surprise fourth contestant for the Triwizard Tournament, he is told that nothing can be done. Harry is bound by contract to compete in the three tasks that may very well take his life.
This Note will use Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire as a case study on contract enforceability. Part I details the spread of English common law, its effect on legal systems across the globe, and current English contract law. Part II explains two common legal principles that affect the enforceability of contracts: privity of contract and capacity to contract. Part III uses the facts known about the wizarding world’s legal system to draw lines to English common law and create a case for Harry Potter’s contract conundrum.
I. History of Contract Law in the Muggle World
There are two main types of legal systems used in countries across the globe. The first is a civil law system, used in countries like France and Germany. In a civil system, laws are codified and judges interpret the code and apply it to the facts of the case. The second is a common law system, used in countries like England and the United States. A common law system uses an adversarial approach where neutral judges hear both sides and draft opinions that apply the law. Unlike a civil code system, in common law, judges play a critical role in the evolution of law by using their opinions to create law. While adherence to precedent is often favored and practiced in common law jurisdictions, when a unique set of facts and circumstances appears, it gives judges the opportunity to reconsider current common law and tweak it or revise it as necessary. Contract law in many of the world’s largest common law countries is no different. It is a fluid subset of law that has been changing and developing since before ancient Roman times.
A. The International Spread of English Common Law
The most common legal system in the world remains the English common law system. With over eighty-six of the world’s 320 legal jurisdictions directly using English common law, it maintains its status as the most used form of law over alternatives like Napoleonic law—favored in France and Brazil—and American common law.[1] But England’s influence on the world’s legal systems is more than just the countries that directly adopted the English common law.
In the seventeenth century, England began what remains one of the largest maritime expansions of its empire in history.[2] It created colonies in North America, Africa, and the West Indies.[3] The expansion of the British Empire continued into the eighteenth century, leading to heavy competition with France over colonized areas.[4] But the oft-violent clashes between England and France over colony expansion left England with greater control in Canada and India.[5] The nineteenth century saw England set its sights South and East, expanding from Egypt to South Africa and from the Persian Gulf to Australia.[6] Since World War I, the rise of nationalist sentiments caused England to lose its control—or voluntarily return control—of most of its colonies to the native countries.[7] But where the British Empire went, the common law followed, and often stayed, even when England did not.
Many former British colonies like New Zealand and British Canada directly adopted English common law.[8] The highest court sat in London and presided over appeals for local and foreign courts.[9] And even where the colonized country had an existing legal system, like India, Quebec, and South Africa, English common law was combined with local law to create a hybrid type system.[10] England’s quest to colonize did more than just expand its access to resources, it spread English common law across the world. This has arguably been one of the greatest impacts on the evolution of legal systems across the globe.
B. English Contract Law
In its infancy, contract law formed as a way to protect the transactions of honest buyers and sellers, with courts focused exclusively on the fairness of the exchange. And up through the eighteenth century, contract law remained largely a form of substantive justice. It assured buyers that if they purchased a milk cow from the town over, no third party could claim the cow as their own, or if a judge felt the price for that particular milk cow was too high, the contract was deemed unfair and unenforceable.[11] There was little consideration given to what the parties themselves had agreed to. Perhaps even more surprising is the early assumption that all transactions resulted in the instantaneous transfer of title.[12] It seems that courts could not envision a time where some money might be given in exchange for delivery of a cow in two weeks. That left courts unconcerned about creating law specific to contracts because the “instantaneous” transfer of title between buyer and seller was already protected by the well-established body of property law.
At the beginning of the nineteenth century, John Powell drafted Essay Upon the Law of Contracts and Agreement, England’s first treatise on contract law. In his essay, Powell pushed for courts to move away from substantive justice practices, and instead, focus on procedural justice.[13] In his opinion, Powell felt the price of the cow was not important, just the fact that the two parties had agreed upon that price. Powell emphasized that a person should be obligated to fulfill a contract he entered, even if fulfilling it became burdensome. This was the first real foray into the “will theory” concepts of offer and acceptance, valuable consideration, and modern contract interpretation.[14] Perhaps an even larger revelation from Powell’s works was that contracts were not a simple transfer of title that could be governed by property law, but instead, created a series of expectations that needed its own body of law.[15] Powell’s ideas on contracts became even more important as England’s economy started to shift—moving from a strictly local model, where prices often remained fixed, to a regional model, where prices of goods often fluctuated based on demand.[16]
Courts began to use the concepts behind “will theory” to build the foundation for modern English contract law. At its most fundamental, all agreements start with an offer and acceptance.[17] This is often coined as “the meeting of the minds.” But beyond just offer and acceptance, for a contract to be enforceable it needs valuable consideration—think $50 in exchange for your milk cow.[18] Further, enforceable contracts require both parties to intend to be bound by the contract. In English courts, whether the parties intended to be bound is a question of fact that is determined using an objective test.[19] When all these big-picture items are present, an enforceable contract exists, and each party is protected by law in the event of breach by the other party. The intricacies of contract law in England are further sculpted and refined by legislation—like the Sale of Goods Act 1979 and Consumer Rights Act 2015—and nuanced common law precedent.
To this day, English common law still has an impact on some of the world’s largest legal systems. For example, American law textbooks continue to include English cases because they are still good law. And in large part, despite growing their bodies of law separately, American and English contract law is strikingly similar. It appears as though any legal system that proclaims it wants to protect generally accepted beliefs like justness and fairness, finds itself sharing many of the same legal standards.
II. Enforceability: When Muggle Contracts Cannot be Enforced
First and foremost, the ability to enforce a contract and its terms is a matter exclusive to the parties of the agreement.[20] Generally, non-parties are excluded from enforcing against a party of the contract, and a party to the contract is excluded from enforcing against a non-party.[21] This is commonly referred to as the Rule of Privity.[22] As with most areas of law, there are always exceptions. In English common law, the exceptions to privity of contract typically involve third parties in the form of trusts, agency relationships, collateral contracts, and other exceptions defined by statute, specifically the Third Party Rights Act.[23] Therefore, before enforcing a contract, a court must first look to the parties of the suit and determine what rights they may or may not have with the contract at issue.
When it is the parties of the contract who are seeking to enforce the terms of their agreement, courts generally strive to uphold what the parties agreed to. This ensures the freedom to contract remains a central pillar in contract law. But again, it depends. In England, there are six major categories under which a court might hold a seemingly enforceable contract unenforceable. These six major categories of unenforceability include: (1) lack of capacity to contract, (2) misrepresentation, (3) undue influence or duress, (4) illegality, (5) mistake, or (6) statutory invalidity.[24] Each category of unenforceability represents a societal consensus of acceptable business practices and plays an important role in upholding societal values and norms. Often the question is not does a contract exist, but is it an enforceable contract.
A. Privity of Contract
Most relevant to Harry’s particular predicament are his rights under the rule of privity of contracts. As was held by the first court in England to consider third-party rights, anyone not “privy” to the contract cannot sue or be sued under it.[25] The idea of “privity” controlled third-party relationships with contract parties until 1999, when Parliament passed the Third Party Rights Act.[26]
While the Third Party Rights Act grants some rights as it relates to third parties, the Act ultimately declines to fully open the door to non-party intrusion on private contracts. Parliament allowed for only a small carve out to the privity of contract rule, a third party only has rights when there is a benefit conferred upon them. This means that the non-party is allowed to receive a benefit under the contract and to seek enforcement of that benefit against the parties to the contract. What the Act did not change, was a party’s inability to impose a duty upon or restrict the rights of a non-party. Even further limiting the capabilities of the Act, Parliament chose to exclude certain contract types. Those exclusions included promises made by employees against a third party, promissory notes, certain corporate documents, and contracts for the carriage of goods beyond liability limitations.
The Act requires that the non-party receiving a benefit, and the benefit itself, be expressly identified in the contract. What constitutes express identification on both fronts has been left to interpretation. Over the years, English courts have gone from a very strict approach—a certain individual or class explicitly identified—to an approach that looks more at the facts and intentions of the parties.[27] For example, in 2006, a court refused to allow a couple to seek damages as a non-party because the contract did not expressly state who may receive damage payments, just that payments could be made.[28] However, in 2016, a court found that a union non-party was able to enforce an employment contract because one of the terms of the contract mentioned the payment of union dues.[29] In later cases, the court took the opportunity to confirm that an expressly named a non-party beneficiary was a question of fact, but the facts must also show that the parties intended the agreement to be enforceable by a non-party.[30] Furthermore, the conferred benefit must have been more than just an incidental consequence of contract language. A 2009 case explained, just because the agent was mentioned as the ultimate beneficiary of the payment, the purpose of the contract was not to benefit the agent.[31]
At its core, an enforceable contract requires the parties to mutually agree upon its terms. This meeting of the minds signifies that parties have had a chance to consider all obligations, repercussions, and alternatives before mutually assenting to the contractual relationship. Privity of contract protects the integrity of the meeting of the minds by refusing to extend contractual rights and duties upon a non-party.
B. Lack of Capacity to Contract
Assuming privity of contract is a non-issue, there are other circumstances under which a court might hold that a contract cannot be enforced. One such circumstance involves minors, much like fourteen-year-old Harry Potter. In broad terms, the capacity to contract is a legal concept encompassing various prerequisites that each contracting party must meet. At its core, capacity to contract simply means that each party must be of a mental acuity to understand the nature and consequences of the contract that they enter of their own free will. When a court determines that an individual lacks the capacity to contract, it signifies that society has collectively acknowledged the presence of certain factors rendering that individual incapable of meeting the minimum standard of mental acuity. In England, courts typically hold that minors, mentally disabled parties (when the other party is aware of the disability), or individuals too intoxicated to comprehend their actions, lack the capacity to contract.[32]
Minors receive the benefit of this particular carve out of contract law because society feels that they lack the capacity to fully grasp the legal ramifications of contracts. Society wants to protect vulnerable minors from those who would take advantage of them by locking them into a contract.[33] That is not to say that everyone would take advantage of minors, nor that all contracts with minors are per se invalid. In fact, most contracts with minors are simply considered voidable. That means when one party enters into a contract with a minor, the minor can enforce the contract against the other party, but the minor himself is not bound by the contract until he ratifies it upon reaching eighteen years of age.[34] If the minor chooses to back out of the agreement or refuses to ratify the contract at eighteen, he is free to do so.
There are categories of contracts in which minors receive goods or services that are wholly for the benefit of the minor that remain valid agreements. A good that is necessary is one that is “fit to maintain the particular [minor] in the state, station, and degree . . . in which he is.”[35] The burden of proof is on the supplier to show that the good they sold to the minor was necessary—that the good itself is a necessary good (as opposed to a luxury good) and that the minor actually needed it. [36] When these agreements for necessary goods or services are enforced, courts enforce them more like an estoppel scenario.[37] The minor is only liable for the reasonable cost of the goods or services, and the price the parties agreed to matters little.[38]
When the contract with a minor is a service contract—this most closely resembles an employment or education contract in U.S. law—the court takes a similar approach. A service contract with a minor that is beneficial on the whole will be enforced.[39] So long as the contract overall is deemed advantageous to the minor, courts will likely enforce an agreement even where some of the provisions are unfavorable to the minor.[40] While it is not everything, courts do weigh financial benefits in these scenarios. Courts have held that contracts that require minors to operate in an ethical way are overall beneficial, even when the minor is unable to collect financially.[41] But when a court deems a contract to be harsh and oppressive to a minor, it is not likely to enforce that agreement. When considering if a contract is overly harsh and oppressive, the court will consider the totality of all the provisions. Historically, courts have held that contracts which include provisions with unfair wages, limitations on the ability to find other work, or unilateral contract termination are unenforceable.[42]
While these exceptions do exist, ultimately, minors cannot be bound by contract if they do not wish to be.[43] Nor will a court enforce every contract just because it benefits a minor in some financial way.[44] At the end of the day, society still wants to protect those who are not legally adults.
III. Reconsidering Harry Potter's Participation in the Triwizard Tournament
Not a great deal is known about the legal system of Britain’s wizarding world. What is known can be pieced together from brief descriptions across all the Harry Potter novels. The governing body is the Ministry of Magic, headed by the Minister of Magic. Within the Ministry are various departments—from the Department of International Magical Cooperation to the Department of Magical Transportation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Each department also has individual offices which control pieces of the work done by the department at large. For example, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has the Aurors’ Office which oversees tracking down dark witches and wizards. It also houses the Improper Use of Magic Office which oversees the underage use of magic and the use of magic in the presence of a muggle.
It is hard to say whether the magical world operates as a common law system, a civil law system, or some combination of both. It is not a giant leap to affirmatively say Britain’s wizards are held to standards set by law because they have a department to enforce them. It also appears that the Ministry of Magic uses trials to some degree. Harry himself had to face a disciplinary hearing when he was charged with using magic in the presence of a Muggle.[45] Trials were also alluded to when Voldemort first fell and many of his Death Eaters were left to answer for their terrible crimes and sentenced to serve time at the wizarding prison of Azkaban. Wizards also seem to comfortably use legal terms from the muggle world—binding contract, trial, and prison—which would add credence to a legal system that acts like a muggle legal system.
There seems to be enough similarities between the legal workings of Britain’s wizarding world and England’s muggle world to say with confidence that there is some overlap in how the two legal systems operate. From the structure of the government—England’s Parliament and Prime Minister to the wizard’s Ministry of Magic and Minister of Magic—to the use of trials when laws are broken, it appears that the wizarding world may have also been influenced by English common law. As such, Harry Potter should not have been forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, and he has a legal argument to prove it. Harry can attack this contract question on two fronts: privity of contract and lack of capacity. Each of Harry’s arguments will depend on whether or not the finder of facts believes Harry when he says he did not put his name in the Goblet of Fire.
A. Privity of Contract: Harry was a Non-Party
Harry was not a party to any enforceable contract. The parties to this particular agreement appear to be the Goblet of Fire and the students who submitted their names for consideration as champions and were selected. That means that individual contracts exist between the Goblet of Fire and Durmstrang’s champion, Victor Krum, Beauxbatons’s champion, Fleur Delacour, and Hogwarts’s champions, Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter. Except Harry did not put his own name in the Goblet of Fire, nor did he ask an older student to do it for him. From the moment Harry’s name was called, he adamantly proclaimed that he never submitted his name for consideration. Someone posing as Harry Potter submitted his name under a completely fictitious fourth school.[46] If we take Harry at his word, the contract in question would seem to exist between the Goblet of Fire and the individual posing as Harry Potter.
Poor Harry needed a legal advocate—let’s ignore the fraud issue for now. Barty Crouch, the Ministry of Magic’s representative at the tournament, incorrectly assumed that just because an individual’s name came out of the Goblet of Fire, that individual was legally bound by contract to participate in the Triwizard Tournament.[47] Instead, Harry’s participation was a question better answered by a court. Harry’s best argument would likely involve the rule of privity of contracts. Harry continually stated he did not put his name in the Goblet of Fire, and presuming the court agrees with him, that would make him a non-party to the agreement. Assuming arguendo that the wizarding world has exceptions to contract privity similar to England’s, the agent representing the Goblet of Fire would need to prove that one of these exceptions applied to Harry if it wanted to enforce the contract against Harry.
Modeling an argument using the Third Party Rights Act, the agent of the Goblet of Fire would need to show that the contract between itself and the person pretending to be Harry expressly identified Harry Potter and a benefit to confer upon him. If the fraud is ignored, it could be argued that Harry was expressly identified in the contract. Using the decision of the court in Avraamides—where the court was looking for the parties to be individually identified—the Goblet of Fire could present several witnesses to the event.[48] However, as recent courts have indicated, just identifying an individual or group named in the contract is not enough, there needs to have been an intention to allow that non-party to have rights under the contract.[49] There is nothing in the narrative that indicates the Triwizard Tournament was set up to allow others to sign up on behalf of another. Instead, the facts seem to indicate that these contracts were wholly individual agreements. Students were strongly encouraged to consider the danger of entering the tournament before they put their own name in the Goblet of Fire.
Additionally, the Goblet of Fire would have to show the specific benefit being conferred upon Harry Potter. The Goblet of Fire is likely to argue, as did the Headmasters and Champions of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, that Harry would give Hogwarts an advantage in the tournament. Two champions competing for glory changes the odds from one-third for each school, to fifty percent in favor of Hogwarts. Additionally, the Goblet of Fire would likely point to the thousand galleon purse—wizarding money—and eternal glory that the winner would receive. It’s hard to say whether a court would consider these as valid conferred benefits. The fact that the benefits are not guaranteed and it seems that the school might benefit more than Harry, its likely a court would hold this was not an express benefit conferred on Harry Potter. And based on the language of Dolphin Maritime & Aviation Services Ltd., it is more likely a court will see these benefits not as explicit, but as incidental benefits of the contract.[50]
Further, there are many who would argue that this contract did not benefit Harry at all. Like Professor Moody explained, the motivation of the fraudster is unknown. It could be that the person entered Harry knowing his magical knowledge would not be enough to survive the tasks of the tournament, effectively sentencing him to death.[51] Assuming the court initially accepts Harry’s promise that he did not enter himself into the tournament, and is therefore a non-party to the contract, it is unlikely the Goblet of Fire could make a case that Harry should have the contract enforced against him despite being a non-party.
B. Capacity to Contract: Harry is a Minor
Harry was too young to contract and should have been allowed to leave this voidable contract. England’s age of legal capacity is eighteen.[52] The legal capacity in the wizarding world is unknown, but based on the facts of the case, the tournament was only meant for young witches and wizards over the age of seventeen. At the time of entry, Harry Potter was fourteen-years-old, well under the age restriction for the tournament. Although Harry was adamant that he did not enter himself into the tournament, there are many that believed he was lying. And likely they believed this for good reason; Harry had a knack for seeking out trouble beyond what many would consider survivable for a wizard his age. Now assuming that the court did not believe Harry when he said he did not put his own name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry can argue he lacked the capacity to contract.
Again, Harry needed better legal advice. Ignoring the legal age of capacity number, and assuming arguendo that Harry is still considered a minor in the eyes of the law, Harry should have been advised that the contract with the Goblet of Fire was voidable. To hold Harry to the contract, the agent for the Goblet of Fire would need to prove their service contract was for the benefit of Harry. Similar to the privity of contract argument, the Goblet will argue the tournament offers Harry a chance at eternal greatness and the financial freedom many dream of. Cases like Doyle and De Francesco, seem to indicate that financial benefits are a big factor in deciding whether the contract overall benefits the minor.[53]
And if a court does entertain the idea that the contract was beneficial, Harry will need to argue that the contract was harsh and oppressive. Given the circumstances, it is hard to imagine a court that would not find this agreement to participate in a deadly tournament with skills well below those required to survive as harsh. Evidence like the addition of an age line to keep younger wizards out and historical recollections of champions perishing while attempting the tasks are likely to sway the finder of facts into holding the service contract is not for Harry’s benefit. If the court holds its not a beneficial contract, Harry is free to void it. He should have been given the option to walk away from the tournament.
Conclusion
J.K. Rowling did what many authors tried and failed to do. In a time of television and video games, she was able to capture the imagination of children everywhere, revitalizing an interest in reading in a way that had not been done since J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. Any liberties she took in the interpretation of law to continue the adventures of Harry Potter and his friends should be forgiven. The stories would not have had the same impact and continuing fandom had her fourth novel simply ended with Harry in court. What this Note aims to illustrate is that creative case studies can take a set of facts that are familiar to millions and use them as a way to discuss complex legal topics and to keep legal minds churning.
[1] See Press Release, Sweet & Maxwell, English Common Law is the Most Widespread Legal System in the World (Nov. 2008) (located at https://www.sweetandmaxwell.co.uk/about-us/press-releases/061108.pdf.).
[20] See Prac. L. Com., Contracts: Privity and Third Party Rights and Obligations, Thomson Reuters Prac. L., [hereinafter Privity of Contracts], https://uk.practicallaw.thomsonreuters.com/Document/Ib5556c28e83211e398db8b09b4f043e0/View/FullText.html (last visited Mar. 16, 2024).
[21] See id.
[22] See id.
[23] See id.
[24] See generally Treitel, supra note 17.
[25] See Tweddle v. Atkinson [1861] EWHC QB J57; see also Dunlop Pneumatic Tyre Co. Ltd. v. Selfridge & Co. Ltd. [1915] A.C. 847 (applying the court’s holding in Tweddle).
[28] See Avraamides v. Colwill [2006] EWCA Civ 1533.
[29] See Cavanagh v. Secretary of State for Work and Pensions [2016] EWHC 1136 (QB).
[30] See Secretary of State for the Home Department v. Cox [2023] EWCA Civ 551.
[34] See Prac. L. Com., Contracts: Capacity, Thomson Reuters Prac. L., [hereinafter Capcity], https://uk.practicallaw.thomsonreuters.com/1-107-3962? (last visited Mar. 16, 2024).
[35] Peters v. Fleming (1840) 6 M. & W. 42 at 46.
[41] See generally Doyle v. White City Stadium Ltd. [1935] 1 K.B. 110.
[42] See generally De Francesco v. Barnum (1889) 43 Ch.D. 165.
[43] See Capacity, supra note 34.
[44] See Treitel, supra note 17, at 498.
[45] See J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix 137 ̶ 51 (2003).
[48] See Avraamides v. Colwill [2006] EWCA Civ 1533.
[49] See Secretary of State for the Home Department v. Cox [2023] EWCA Civ 551.
[50] See Dolphin Maritime & Aviation Services Ltd. v. Sveriges Angfartygs Assurans Forening [2009] EWHC 716 (Comm).
[51] See The Goblet of Fire, supra note 46, at 279.
[52] See Capacity, supra note 34.
[53] See Doyle v. White City Stadium Ltd. [1935] 1 K.B. 110; De Francesco v. Barnum (1889) 43 Ch.D. 165.
Any reproduction of the Article, including, but not limited to its publication, posting, or excerption in print, or on the internet, shall give attribution to the Article’s original publication on the online MSLR Forum, using the following method of citation:
“Kendall Gouldthorpe, Unraveling Enforceability: Contractual Ethics in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, MICH. ST. L. REV. FORUM (Apr. 7, 2024).”
Originally published on the Michigan State Law Review Online Forum
