Chapter 24
Point/Counterpoint
Fleur woke the following morning to the wonderful warmth of Harry's body pressed up against her. They were facing each other, his head pillowed against her chest as he slept, their arms wrapped around each other and their legs tangled up together. All told, she felt like she had lost a Muggle game of Twister.
As she looked upon his face, she noted the lack of worry he exhibited as he slept. He was almost always tense during the day – either because he was nervous by default in social settings, or because something important was preying on his mind – but right now he was completely at peace. It reminded her pleasantly of the morning after her father told him of his predicament.
Harry did not know it yet, but the photo of him and Gabrielle sleeping on the couch together was already perched on the mantel at home.
A warm smile came over her as she continued to observe him, and she could not resist the urge to pet. His hair, though permanently messy as they found out during the wedding preparations, was soft as silk, and she loved the feel of it. Even better, he loved it when she played with it, so it worked out perfectly for both of them.
It was only unfortunate that he was not yet comfortable enough in their relationship that he would do the same to her. She felt that it would come eventually, but it would take time. He had many deep-seated fears to work through first, and hopefully seeing a mind healer over the summer would help somewhat with that.
He shifted slightly under her hand a few minutes later, and his eyes finally fluttered open. She could see his confusion: this was his first night with her at school, and he was quite surprised to find himself there. It cleared quickly enough, though, and her favorite smile appeared.
"Morning," he rasped.
"Bonjour," she smiled, kissing his forehead.
Harry stared up into her eyes for a long moment before his hand found its way to her face, the tips of his fingers cautiously probing, lightly touching her cheek. Morning time, before he was completely awake, was the most vulnerable she had ever seen him, or probably ever would. He had not yet had time to raise his usual barriers, and with nothing to interrupt and force them up, he was an open book.
"I could get used to this," he whispered quietly, his voice still gravelly with sleep. "I think–" He paused and swallowed thickly. And in a quieter whisper, he added, "I think I'm falling in love with you."
Fleur's breath caught. That was no small admission, and it came straight from his heart. True, he was still half in dreamland and barely aware of what he was saying, but that he said it at all was astounding. He was not one to be loose with his emotions, or to speak such profound words when he did not mean them.
A happy tear came to her eye, and she smiled warmly down at him. "Je t'aime aussi, ma chérie," she whispered back.
Fleur scooted down and kissed him, and as he woke more fully, it soon devolved into tender, tentative lovemaking. He was still very nervous about physical intimacy – he would not initiate, and she doubted that he would for a long while yet – but she would take what he gave. And what he gave was so full of emotion that she really couldn't care less if it never changed.
They rested for perhaps half an hour after that, but unfortunately they had school today, and both had skipped the previous day in the wake of Dumbledore's interference in their lives. They needed to get up, but she did not want to move. His presence was a comfort that she could easily grow accustomed to.
"It's time," he finally sighed. "I really wish we didn't have to go."
"Oui," she replied in a husky voice, "but there is always tonight, mon amour."
Harry blushed at the suggestion – it was easy to make him do – and his smile pleased her.
Fawkes was once again collected on the way out the door, and they drew jealous stares as they passed through the gaggle of Beauxbatons students who stood awaiting their Headmistress. Fleur had long since stopped doing this; a simple request of Maxime, and she was free to come and go as she pleased. She wondered idly why the others didn't think of it.
No sooner had they entered the Great Hall, however, than did she know it was going to be another long morning.
Dumbledore was riding his throne as always, and his hawklike gaze locked onto them as soon as they entered. She had known that the wedding would get his attention, but really, this was ridiculous! He simply couldn't leave Harry alone, and the calculating expression they were receiving from him did not bode well for what would come of the day.
But as there was nothing they could do about it, they merely sat down and began to eat.
Fleur soon saw why Harry liked Fawkes so much. The phoenix was a rare joy, and even just watching him hop from plate to plate and steal bits of food was a true pleasure. He was never in the way, but nor did he hesitate to make a nuisance of himself if he wanted something. And usually, that something was to distract someone from their thoughts, or simply to bring a smile to their face, and had nothing to do with whatever he actually took.
But she, too, noticed that he avoided the youngest Weasley male like the plague.
She quickly forgot about him, though, when a different Weasley approached them. The anger had disappeared from Ginny's eyes since the wedding, and her jealousy was muted to bearable levels, but Fleur wasn't sure what would happen. The girl's presence made her nervous: not because she was afraid of her, but because she didn't want her good morning ruined yet.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked.
Harry shrugged agreeably, as was his way. "Sure," he nodded.
It soon became apparent why she'd chosen today to join them. Without a second thought, she looked to the phoenix, who was having a tug-of-war with Fred over a rasher of bacon. "Hello, Fawkes," she said with a smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Fawkes abruptly let go of the bacon upon hearing her voice, causing Fred to pout, and hopped a little closer to Ginny. Fleur watched carefully as he studied her: phoenixes were excellent judges of character. Nobody knew for certain, but it was widely believed that they employed a form of Legilimency and could essentially read a person's intentions.
Finally, he chirped a welcome and nuzzled her outstretched hand, to Fleur's relief.
Ginny smiled. "No more secret Chambers for me," she told him as she reached out and scratched his neck, "but you can come visit any time you want."
Fawkes gave her a friendly nudge with his beak, and abruptly turned to glare at George, who was about to grab a tail feather. The twins, as odd as it was, were getting on famously with the firebird; they teased each other mercilessly, and it was quite fun to watch. She doubted that Dumbledore even knew of Fawkes' love of minor pranks.
Finally, sensing her attention on him, he clattered back over to Fleur. She smiled and scratched him under the chin in the way he liked, earning her a pleased trill, and a surprised look from Ginny. She ignored the latter; while she was annoyed by the girl's attitude at the wedding, it could not be denied that Harry would likely always have at least one Weasley in his life. It made no sense to make an enemy of her, but the girl had some ground to cover if she wanted to be a friend.
"Are you 'aving fun?" she asked Fawkes curiously. He straightened up and nodded at her, causing her to grin. "I am glad, Fawkes," she smiled. "You do much to brighten our morning."
"He does, doesn't he?" mused Harry thoughtfully.
"Oui, mon amour," she said softly, eyes still on the phoenix, who was now using her as his personal scratching post. "I am glad he chose to stay wiz us."
"He's staying with you?" asked a shocked Ginny.
"We're not sure for how long," shrugged Harry. "He came with me when I left Dumbledore's office yesterday. He was bored up there, and I guess we're more interesting."
Fawkes turned around and nodded emphatically.
"Personally, I like it," grinned Fred.
"It's like one big prank on the Headmaster," agreed George.
"You stole his phoenix!" they chortled.
Fleur smirked at them, agreeing completely, and then went back to her food, sharing it liberally with Fawkes. That the phoenix preferred their company was obvious. Surprisingly enough, though, while Ron was very obviously jealous over it, Ginny didn't seem to mind.
Breakfast continued pleasantly enough, and Fleur quickly learned that Hermione and Ginny were friends, which gave her a modicum of hope on that front. Harry fell into a quiet conversation with Neville about a subject that she could not discern. She and Susan ate silently, simply observing, and since the twins followed suit, it was clear that they were up to something, as usual.
But just when she thought they might escape the Hall intact–
"Mr. Potter," came Dumbledore's unwelcome voice from somewhere behind them. "Please come to my office after breakfast."
Harry turned to stare blankly at him, and Fleur did likewise. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking – he had impressive emotional control – but whatever it was, she was fairly certain that it would not be good for them. And given her suspicions of his motives, she decided to make herself heard, cutting Harry off just as he was opening his mouth to automatically acknowledge the order.
"Is zis about our marriage again, 'eadmaster Dumbledore?" she asked directly, not troubling to keep her voice down.
His eyes glittered with irritation when his gaze shifted to her, and behind him, McGonagall wandered up the aisle, apparently drawn in by the conversation. She didn't comment, instead coming to a stop just behind Dumbledore, out of his range of vision. Fleur did not miss that she was listening intently as it unfolded.
"It is among the topics at hand, yes," admitted Dumbledore with a frown.
Fleur was only slightly surprised when she felt his mental probe; apparently he thought to use his answer as a trigger for whatever memories he was searching for. Unfortunately for him, though, her father had trained her in Occlumency from a young age, and she smacked it away with a mild amount of heat.
Dumbledore flinched violently as a result.
"Do you always employ Legilimency without consent?" she scowled. "I do not tolerate such intrusions."
McGonagall paled at the accusation, and Dumbledore lost some color as well at the public nature of it. To her disappointment, though, he recovered admirably, and pasted an apologetic expression on his face.
"My apologies, Miss Delacour, it is–"
"Madame Potter," she interrupted. "And I will thank you to remember zat in ze future."
His anger escaped his control for a moment and shone on his face, but as seemed to be par for the course, he mastered it quickly. "I'm afraid that your marriage is not legally recognized, Miss Delacour," he said, slightly emphasizing his use of her maiden name. "That is part of our discussion, and your presence will not be necessary."
Unruffled, Fleur arched an eyebrow. "I think you will find zat it is quite legal, Albus," she said pointedly. "And I did not ask you eef it was necessary. I am telling you zat I will be zere."
"This is a meeting with legal officials, Miss Delacour," he shot back. "Your presence is not required, nor will it be allowed."
Fleur stared at him for a moment as she weighed her options. So he was going to go the legal route? That, they could handle. While the heat currently radiating from her husband might be a problem if he didn't have time to cool off first – the man was making him angry – she could deal with it. But if it was going to be a legal discussion, then they were going to play it her way!
She drew her wand, causing Dumbledore to twitch nervously, and conjured quill and parchment. His eyes narrowed at her as she scribbled a short note and rolled it up before turning to give it to Fawkes, who was watching the altercation intently. The phoenix did not look pleased with his former companion.
"Fawkes," she said softly. "If you are willing, would you please take zis to my fazzer and return wiz 'im? It ees eemportant."
"That will not be necessary, Fawkes," countered the Headmaster quietly.
Fleur had to suppress a snort when the phoenix turned toward him and stuck his tiny pink tongue out for a moment. Then he turned back, grabbed the note in his beak, and vanished in a burst of flame. The morbidly amused smirk that appeared briefly on Harry's face was visible from a mile away.
Apparently giving up on arguing with her, and probably not ready to deal with the fallout from her note, Dumbledore turned to Harry again. "My office, after breakfast, Mr. Potter," he said simply, and then he turned and stalked out of the Hall, leaving a flabbergasted audience behind.
McGonagall stood stock-still with an utterly flummoxed expression on her face. Harry, on the other hand, stared at the floor, seething in anger. It was him that she was most concerned about; these awful happenings were designed to control him, and she wasn't about to let it happen.
The rest of the table was awed, all staring incredulously at her. Apparently they thought she was insane for standing up to the so-called most powerful Wizard in Britain. To her, though, he was little more than a conniving old man.
"You are bloody brave!" breathed one of the twins.
For once, the other had nothing to say, and merely nodded his agreement.
Flames erupted beside McGonagall before anyone could get their feet under them again, and Fawkes deposited her father lightly on the floor. The phoenix then headed for Fleur, who offered an arm. As soon as he landed, she gently stroked his neck and whispered quiet thanks for his services.
Fawkes leaned up and nuzzled her, bringing a smile to her face, and then she let him off on Susan's shoulder, startling the girl. She and Harry both rose then, and Fleur moved to hug her father. "Thank you for coming, Papa," she smiled. "We may 'ave a problem wiz ze 'eadmaster. 'E is trying to interfere."
"Do not worry, chérie," he soothed. "I will always come when you call." Then he let her go and pulled a surprised but pleased Harry in as well. "We will make sure nothing 'appens to you." he assured him.
When he finally let Harry go, he turned to the phoenix who was still perched on Susan's shoulder, again watching intently. "You are Fawkes?" he asked curiously. The phoenix bobbed his head in confirmation. "Then I must thank you for saving 'Arry so long ago," he smiled. "And for today as well."
Fawkes chirped happily, apparently having decided that he liked Sebastian.
In the background, McGonagall cleared her throat. "May I accompany you, Mr. Potter?" she requested with a frown. "I would like to know what this is about since it involves one of my students."
Harry's expression had cleared a bit – helped along, no doubt, by Fleur's gentle touch – and he looked up at her and scrutinized her closely. Fleur did not know much about the staff of Hogwarts, but from what she had seen – especially in light of what happened during the interview with Director Bones – McGonagall, at least, was honorable, if perhaps a bit naïve. And Harry seemed to agree.
"Sure, Professor," he nodded after a moment. "I think it's time you knew the truth."
Their appetites ruined by the confrontation, Harry and Fleur paused only long enough for Harry to collect Fawkes. The entire Hall was once again watching them – it sent a shiver down her spine – but there was little to be done about it. That Dumbledore had made a public spectacle was his own problem, and would do him no favors in the long run.
She explained the situation to her father as they walked, and he was incensed that the man had dared to invade her mind. Not that she disagreed: like her father, she felt that Legilimency was a personal violation akin to rape – if not worse in some ways – and did not like when it was used against her. That said, while she had always thought her Occlumency practice a waste of time, now she was eminently glad of it.
And Harry would need to learn it soon as well.
The Headmaster was not alone when they arrived in his office. He of course was sitting pompously behind his desk – she could no longer think of him as regal – and in a seat to the side was a squirrelly looking sort. He was perhaps five and a half feet, wire thin, with a craggy face and oily brown hair. Harry did not appear to recognize him.
"I believe I stated that this was not a public meeting, Mr. Potter," frowned Dumbledore as he eyed the others in the room, his irritation showing through once more.
Harry, who had turned his attention to Fawkes just as he had the last time he was in this office, tensed up when he heard the man's voice. The pressure was getting to him, which was not good; he was already under too much, and he would likely only be able to take so much more before he broke. Even so, the anger that was so obvious to Fleur did not come through in his quiet voice when he responded.
"And I believe my wife stated that she would be here, Headmaster," he returned simply. "If this is about our marriage, then it's her business too."
A scowl flickered on Dumbledore's face, and his ice-cold eyes scanned the array of visitors with veiled impatience. "I must ask you all to leave," he said commandingly. "This is a private legal matter, and may not be discussed in your presence."
"And what matter would that be, Albus?" asked her father. "Your attempts to exclude Fleur do not make sense, and 'Arry is entitled to whatever representation and witnesses 'e wishes to 'ave."
The old man dithered for a moment as his gaze landed on Sebastian Delacour, who he knew quite well from the International Confederation of Wizards. Sebastian Dealcour often attended those meetings as one of the French representatives, and was just as well respected by the Confederation as he was by the people in his home country. Fleur watched with interest as Dumbledore came to the conclusion that he could not easily avoid the question.
"It is an issue regarding the legality of his recent marriage announcement," he said finally. "As such it only concerns Mr. Potter and his guardians."
"Then why exactly are you involved, sir?" asked Harry pointedly.
The oily wizard blanched at the question, interestingly enough, but Dumbledore didn't flinch. "It is my duty to ensure the safety of my students, Mr. Potter," he replied patronizingly as he looked down his nose at Harry.
"With all due respect, Headmaster," replied Harry quietly, "that doesn't make it your business."
"Your guardians did not give you permission to wed, Harry," sighed Dumbledore tiredly. "You know this, and as they are not present, it falls to me to deal with the issue. Now, please ask your friends to leave so that we may proceed."
"I already told you, sir," growled Harry, no longer able to hide his anger completely. "They did give me permission, not that it's any of your business. You're the Headmaster, not my–"
"Enough!" interrupted Dumbledore, momentarily losing control of himself. And before he could regain his footing–
"Really, Albus!" breathed McGonagall, completely scandalized by what was happening. "Madam Bones herself presided over the ceremony, and she is a stickler for the law!"
"Minerva," groaned Dumbledore, "you do not understand what is happening. Please, leave this to me."
"No, Albus," scowled McGonagall. "You are harassing my student, and I will know why!"
The silence spiraled for a long moment as McGonagall's words sank in for Dumbledore. He now knew that his treatment of Harry had caught her attention and that she was suspicious, which clearly unnerved him. Meanwhile, Fleur eyed the oily wizard for a moment – he appeared to have lost track of the conversation in favor of leering at her when he thought she wasn't looking – and she reached for Harry's hand, both in silent support, and for her own comfort.
And then her father piped up again, which made her smile. She had no doubt that he was waiting for just the right moment to say his piece – he was an excellent politician – and now he'd found it. It also interested her that Harry relaxed somewhat upon hearing his voice; she considered it a good sign where their relationship was concerned.
"You will be better served to lay your cards on the table, Albus," said Sebastian firmly. "With the exception of Professor McGonagall, who we 'ave invited as a witness, we are all involved. Or are you trying to 'ide something?"
Dumbledore turned and tried to stare him down, but the attempt met with abject failure; Fleur's father had been in politics for a very long time. Not as long as Dumbledore, true, but unlike the old man, he had earned his political power rather than having it handed to him for the defeat of a Dark Wizard. And as a former Master Auror and a present-day masterful politician, he was extremely difficult to intimidate.
It was no contest, really.
Finally Dumbledore gave in. "Very well," he sighed. "I can see you will make this difficult, Sebastian. This is Jerome Howe. He is Mr. Potter's legal representative, and is here to inform his client of the full nature of his situation."
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "I don't have a legal representative, Professor," he scowled.
Apparently taking that as his cue, the oily wizard finally stopped staring at Fleur and rose to his feet. After straightening his ugly brown sport coat – it really was atrocious – he turned a condescending and dismissive expression on Harry. Fleur blinked at that; did he have no idea of the things that her husband had done in his life?
The scene was almost laughable even before the man spoke. Howe gave off the aura of a coward, and she had no doubt that half the Beauxbatons third form students could probably scare the life out of the man just by drawing a wand. He obviously had no clue who he was dealing with...
"Headmaster Dumbledore has engaged my services on your behalf, Mr. Potter," he oozed. "It seems that you do not understand your legal situation, and he has asked me to explain it to you, as well as the consequences should you persist in this charade."
For his part, Harry closed his eyes and sighed, prompting Fawkes to lean forward and bump the top of his head against his chin. That brought the slightest of smiles to his face, though it did not affect the sarcasm audible in his voice when he replied.
"Oh, do tell," he snorted morbidly.
Fawkes snickered, and that brought a slight smile even to Fleur's lips.
"It is illegal for a minor to wed absent the permission of a parent or guardian," the man simpered, completely oblivious to their opinions of him. Quite tactlessly, he pressed on with, "Since you have no parents, your guardians would be required to provide the necessary permission, which they have not done, and your marriage is therefore invalid. If it is found that Miss Delacour has interacted with you sexually, she will be held over for trial on a charge of statutory rape. You can also be held personally liable for the damage to her family for the erroneous claim of marriage."
Fleur snorted at the idea that she might be arrested. That would be the day! Not only would it never stick in court – he was her husband, and that could be proven both legally and magically – but it would create an international incident. They wouldn't dare.
But still...
"'Arry 'as told ze 'eadmaster repeatedly zat 'is guardians gave zere permission," she growled. "What part of zis do you not understand?" Shaking her head disgustedly, she added, "Zis is a waste of time."
But apparently, that just wasn't good enough. "I will not allow one of my students to be taken advantage of, Miss Delacour," Dumbledore growled back. "We will be pressing charges against you shortly. You should not even be present in this meeting."
Harry and Fleur snorted simultaneously in morbid amusement.
"Really, Albus?" asked Sebastian, not nearly so amused. "Then good luck to you. I do not think you will like the fallout when you are proven to be illegally 'arassing both my family and the Boy Who Lived, but it is your funeral."
"The case is solid Sebastian," retorted Dumbledore confidently. "As I said, Mr. Potter's guardians did not give their permission. I know Vernon and Petunia well, and I assure you that they would not do so."
Three faces darkened ominously at those words, and Fleur did not need Legilimency to know that her father and Harry were thinking much the same as she was. Those words indicated that he knewwhat was going on in Harry's home life! That he had purposely left him there to face the abuse!
To say that she was angry was an understatement, and she had to clamp down hard on it as quickly as she could to avoid transforming and incinerating the bastard on the spot. It was only Harry's hand in hers – along with a quiet song from Fawkes – that allowed her to keep control, and to keep most of it off her face. McGonagall was eyeing them warily, though; she'd noticed.
Sadly for him, however, Dumbledore took their reactions completely the wrong way, and adopted a satisfied look. Little did he know...
And then–
"Do you now?" asked her father dangerously. "You do not know as much as you think you do. You always were overconfident."
"There is no getting around the issue of permission," retorted Dumbledore smugly. "I am truly sorry that it has come to this, but Mr. Potter has only himself to blame."
Sebastian studied Dumbledore for a long moment, and then– "First of all, Albus," he said slowly, his voice turning deadly serious, "'oo gave you permission to 'ire legal representation for 'Arry?"
"As I said, Sebastian, it is my duty–"
"I did not ask after your duty," he interrupted. "I asked after the legal basis, and your position at 'ogwarts is not a valid legal basis. Try again."
Dumbledore blanched, and silence reigned for a moment because he was apparently at a loss for words. In the background, McGonagall's face drained of color, and her eyes narrowed as she looked upon her boss. She was very clearly unhappy with the man.
"Albus!" she hissed. "You didn't!"
Dumbledore sighed. "I assure you, Minerva, as Chief Warlock it is within my rights."
"Even the Chief Warlock cannot 'ire representation for an individual outside of a criminal case against that individual," countered Sebastian. "And you cannot initiate any action on 'is behalf." With a grim smile, he added, "Do not forget that I am versed in British law, Albus. I 'ad to clear the bar 'ere to qualify for my position."
"You are mistaken, Sebastian," said Dumbledore weakly.
"No, I am not, as you are well aware," growled Sebastian, and then he straightened and fixed Albus with an impressive glare and hissed, "In my position as ze Director of Foreign Affairs for Magical France, I am now officially notifying you zat you are risking a serious diplomatic incident. With 'is marriage to my daughter – which, by the way, is recognized in France as well – 'Arry maintains dual citizenship. And we take the safety of our citizens very, veryseriously!"
Dumbledore abruptly paled, and his eyes widened at the seriousness of the words that had just been spoken. Fleur smirked at him, unable to keep from rubbing it in just a little; she wasn't sure which part of the statement truly got him, but suspected it was that the marriage was recognized in France. Her father could tear him apart, and he knew it!
McGonagall remained silent as she stared wide-eyed at the scene.
Finally Dumbledore recovered enough to make a weak attempt at counterpoint. "For that to be true, the marriage would have to have taken place in France," he reminded them.
"Which it did," said Sebastian simply. "Madame Bones maintains French credentials, Albus, just as I do British ones."
Short, dark, and oily in the corner was watching the back-and-forth with something akin to fear. He was almost cowering. Clearly, the situation was out of his league, which Fleur was only too happy about. At least he'd stopped staring...
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "Impossible," he said flatly.
"I assure you, Albus, it is most certainly true!" countered an incensed McGonagall, to Dumbledore's obvious shock. "I was there, and I can tell you beyond doubt that it took place in France!"
Everyone watched as Dumbledore floundered. Even had they not had permission, the British had no ability to bring charges in France unless they wanted an enormous public spectacle. Which would backfire on them horribly...
The silence thickened until Sebastian finally cleared his throat. "I believe we are done 'ere," he said flatly. "Do not press this, Albus, or you will surely regret it. 'Arry is family, and I do not tolerate threats to my family."
"One other thing," said Harry in a soft, dangerous tone that utterly intimidated even Fleur. "I did not hire Mr. Howe. I hope you're planning on paying him, Headmaster, because I certainly won't."
"But–"
Harry silenced the oncoming tirade with a glare that Fleur had never seen from him before. He was beyond angry! She was going to have to calm him down soon, and would probably need Fawkes' help to do so.
And she knew that most of his anger was still centered on Dumbledore's admission that he knew the Dursleys. It was an admission of guilt of the worst possible kind given what those people had done. Even Fleur was angry about it, but she was trying not to focus on it for her husband's sake. That, and she didn't need to grow feathers right now...
"Listen to him, Albus," said Sebastian softly, "because I will back him with my full political power. Do not test me. And do not 'arass 'Arry or Fleur further on this or any other issue."
With that, Sebastian beckoned sharply to Harry and Fleur, neither of whom hesitated to follow. Fleur was not surprised to see McGonagall trailing along after them; if the expression on her face was any indication, she had just had a very rude awakening. And then, just as they were mounting the stairs to ride them down, Fleur had an epiphany.
"Per'aps we should call Madame Bones, Papa," she opined in a ringing tone. "'E was already instructed to 'ave minimal contact with 'Arry."
It was unfortunate for her that she didn't get to see the look of profound horror on Dumbledore's face when her words drifted back through his still-open door.
Chapter 25
Curiosity and the Cat
Minerva McGonagall was not an easy woman to shock, but when she left the Headmaster's office, her head was spinning. She had never known Albus to stoop to such a level. And why would he try to stand in the way of the marriage, anyway?
It made no sense!
Minerva liked the side of the Beauxbatons Champion that she'd seen since that dreadful Task, and wholeheartedly approved of their relationship given the circumstances. She was bringing out a playful side in Potter that hadn't been there before, and it was a breath of fresh air. He was more confident, too, as his recent interactions with Albus were showing, and she could only see it as a good thing.
Her curiosity over the situation was burning within. The only valid point that Albus made – and it was a major one, to be sure – was the issue of the Dursleys. She had railed against those awful people for years, and she had no doubt that they would be fully capable of leaving the girl to her fate. So how had they managed to get permission?
"Would one of you mind telling me what is going on?" she asked in a hushed tone as they made their way down the corridor.
Sebastian Delacour was an intimidating man when he wanted to be, but the glance he gave her at the question was more speculative than anything. Before he could say anything, though, Harry spoke up, sounding inordinately tired and angry. And it was no wonder if this was what he was dealing with.
"Will you fill her in please, sir?" he requested quietly of his father-in-law. "I don't think I can handle it right now."
Fleur wrapped her arms around him from behind and squeezed him gently. It was another thing she had done for him: Minerva had seen his reactions to physical contact, and been disturbed by them, but didn't know what it meant or how to fix it. But this young lady had somehow broken through that barrier, and she suspected it was more important than she knew.
Sebastian moved forward to where Harry had stopped, and exchanged a concerned look with his daughter before leaning down to look him in the eye. "I will, 'Arry," he said gently. "May I tell 'er? As your 'ead of 'ouse she should know, but I won't if you strongly object."
Minerva's brow furrowed at the vague question, her curiosity piqued, but she remained silent. Harry turned and met her gaze with one of startling intensity, searching for something nameless, before he finally turned back to Sebastian and wordlessly nodded. Sebastian then placed a hand on his shoulder – which he actually accepted, to Minerva's shock – and squeezed gently as his gaze shifted to his daughter. "Take care of 'im, chérie," he urged.
"You know zat I will, Papa," she returned softly. And then she whispered something to Fawkes, and all three vanished in a puff of flame. Even though she'd seen Fawkes do that many times over the years, it was still an impressive sight.
"I suggest you make arrangements for your classes, Madame," said Sebastian seriously. "This will take some time."
Minerva was not about to pass up the opportunity. She quickly agreed to meet him at Chateau Delacour and ran to talk to Filius; the spritely Charms professor was a good friend, and would not betray her trust, even to Dumbledore. Her classes settled, she then flooed out to her destination. She arrived in the entryway of the Chateau to find Madame Delacour waiting for her.
"Bonjour, Professor McGonagall," she greeted with a concerned frown.
"Please, call me Minerva," said McGonagall. She wanted to smile at the kind woman, but she couldn't bring herself to do so given the serious nature of the situation.
"Zen Arienne and Sebastian will do," offered Arienne as she beckoned for Minerva to follow. "Sebastian 'as just arrived, and 'e is getting what 'e needs to show you."
"Show me?"
"Oui, it will take some time," she sighed. "Zis is a very complicated situation."
Minerva frowned as she followed the woman through the halls of the enormous castle. She had guessed that they had something on the Dursleys, but this sounded like it was far more than that. She wanted to know so she could help her favorite student (not that she would ever admit that she had a favorite student), but she was beginning to suspect that she had stepped into something big.
Arienne led her to a comfortable living room and set about making tea. Sebastian returned with a pensieve of all things while she was preparing it, and he smiled at her, but it did not reach his eyes. She could see the strain on his features – the strain of someone who knew something terrible, and was revisiting it in his memories.
"'Ere you are, Minerva," offered Arienne, handing her a cup. "Do not be alarmed, zere is a mild Calming Draught in ze tea. You will need it."
"I am not going to like this, am I?" she wondered.
"No, you are not," inserted Sebastian seriously.
Minerva studied him as he sat down across from her. There was a glimmer of anger in his eyes, undoubtedly left over from the confrontation just past, but there was also something else: sadness. In his eyes was a deep sympathetic pain, and she had no doubt that it was aimed at Harry.
He allowed her scrutiny without comment, and gave her a few moments before speaking.
"Before we begin," he said softly, "I would like to ask you a question, if I may?" She nodded her assent. "'As 'Arry recently shown any notable improvements in your class?"
Minerva blinked. "Yes," she admitted. "In the last few weeks, he's been performing beyond even Miss Granger, and she was at the top of the class. I have yet to determine what changed beyond your daughter's presence in his life."
Sebastian sighed. "Alas, Fleur 'as nothing to do with it," he replied. "The reason 'e did poorly in the past is much less pleasant, I am afraid. You see, Minerva, 'e was deliberately 'olding back. 'E is doing well now because one of our 'ouse rules is that 'e will do 'is best in school."
Minerva paled at the implications. The improvements had started roughly a month ago – they were so sudden and drastic that she knew almost exactly when – but why would Harry be following Delacour house rules? That didn't make much sense, unless...
"What are we talking about here?" she asked faintly.
Sebastian did not answer immediately, instead rifling through a stack of documents and pulling out what appeared to be a Muggle file folder. He held it in his hands as he spoke, painting the picture of the last month. And as she listened, horror began to creep in at where the conversation was going.
"I am a cautious man, Minerva," he began heavily. "When the issue came up with Fleur, I investigated 'Arry thoroughly before approaching 'im, and what I found disturbed me greatly. Did you know that there 'ave been no Social Services visits to the Dursleys, either by Wizards or Muggles?"
Minerva frowned deeply. "But there should have been," she said. "He's an orphan, and it's required for that type of placement, at least for the first five years."
"Correct," nodded Sebastian, "but nevertheless, there were no inspections, and when I found nothing in the Wizarding records, I turned to the Muggles, and came across this." He handed the folder to her and explained, "It contains 'Arry's medical records for the period of time before 'e attended 'ogwarts."
Minerva's breath caught as she stared at the folder. It was huge!She wasted no time in opening it, suddenly feeling a desperate need to know what was inside. And as she read entry after entry, the color slowly drained from her cheeks. It was absolutely, utterly appalling! And Minerva was angry: there was no longer any doubt in her mind about whether or not Harry was receiving proper care from the Dursleys.
"I told Albus," she hissed. "I told him they were the worst sort of Muggles!"
"And therein lies the problem, Minerva," said Sebastian heavily. "Even a few of those documents would be enough to 'ave the Muggles looking into the situation in that 'ouse, but no one ever did. I believe that Albus was well aware of what was going on, and that 'e was interfering to maintain the situation."
Minerva stared blankly at him, unable to believe her ears. "You have proof of this?" she whispered faintly.
"No," said Sebastian. "That is just speculation, but I 'ave proof of other issues. But let us get back to my investigation."
Minerva nodded absently and took a sip of her tea, letting the calming potion do its job. She really was going to need it! "Yes, let's," she agreed.
"I decided after investigating that measures may be needed to protect 'is best interests," he admitted. "I 'ad several contingencies planned, and ended up using one of the most drastic after meeting those cochon. Our first trip into the Pensieve will be that memory so you can see exactly what I 'ave done and why."
Minerva wasn't sure what she should think when he mentioned 'contingencies' – in certain circles, especially high government ones, that word had some very negative connotations – but she could not stop her curiosity. Harry was her student, and it was her job to protect him. She had to know.
And so she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and then nodded and reached forward to dip her hand into the bowl, already well familiar with the device.
She fell onto the front porch of a very familiar house, where Sebastian was just knocking on the door. The Durlseys' initial reaction to his news did not surprise her in the least – they were awful people – but what happened after that simply blew her mind. How could they?
They had simply signed him away, and from the way Sebastian had been talking to them, they thought they were signing his death warrant. It was horrifying! She was white with rage by the time she exited the Pensieve, and had to close her eyes and forcibly reign in her temper.
Sebastian watched her impassively, allowing her the time she needed.
"As you can see," he continued after a while, "they are, as you say, the worst sort of Muggles. Mind you, they are now being 'eld over for trial. I recorded that memory with a Muggle device, and with the assistance of MI-5 we were able to charge them with conspiracy to commit murder."
"Good!" she spat.
"Unfortunately it does not end there, Minerva," said Sebastian quietly. "Not by a long shot. As 'Arry is nominally in your care, I want you to know the true extent of 'ow 'e was treated. But I will warn you, zis is 'ighly disturbing."
Minerva lost what little color she had left when she realized the implications of this offer. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Child abuse of a physical nature was almost unheard of in Wizarding society. It happened on extremely rare occasion, but not like with the Muggles. Magical blood was so rare that even the Darkest of Wizards valued their children!
But then Sebastian motioned her into the Pensieve, and she learned the truth about Harry Potter.
Horrified, she watched the same memory that Sebastian had once shown Molly Weasley, and as horrifying as that memory was – and as sick as it made her feel – it explained so much that it was almost painful. How had she not seen this? Everything from his aversion to touch, to the way he sometimes flinched away from loud or angry voices... It all made sick, horrifying sense.
And yet he was such a sweet and unassuming young man. How could anyone have treated him that way? How had Harry even survived it? It was no wonder the boy didn't want to be involved in this discussion. She could not even imagine how he must feel about it all.
"I apologize for the distress this brings you," said Sebastian quietly, drawing her out of her inner turmoil. "But I imagine 'is personality makes more sense to you now."
Minerva nodded faintly. "Yes," she whispered. "Oh, Merlin! What have we done to him?"
"You 'ave done nothing wrong, Minerva," said Arienne sadly. "Albus 'ad everyone fooled."
Minerva swallowed thickly and nodded her thanks to Arienne, and then took another large swig of tea and allowed it to do its job. It was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. She wanted to scream and rage, but what good would it do? Only that subtle Calming Draught kept her sensate enough to manage.
"Unfortunately, that was but one of the memories I took from the Dursleys," sighed Sebastian after a while, leaning back on the couch. "There are many more where that came from. Too many. It will take many years for 'im to recover from this, if it is even possible. Fleur 'as done well with 'im so far, but 'e is far from 'ealed."
Sebastian paused then and rubbed his face for a moment. "I could not leave 'im there," he said in a quiet, pain-filled voice. "And 'Arry, 'e 'as been so good about the 'ole thing. 'E 'as never once complained about anything. I honestly do not understand 'ow that boy 'as survived this long."
Arienne sighed and leaned forward, and Minerva was startled to see a tear rolling down her cheek, never realizing that her own cheeks were just as wet. The revelation had moved her deeply, and she didn't yet know what to do about it. She couldn't think clearly enough to make that leap just yet.
Arienne spoke in a near whisper, her pain equal to her husband's.
"Fleur accidentally terrified him on zeir wedding night, Minerva," she admitted distantly. "She said zat 'Arry did not even know 'is own body! She did not want to pressure 'im, but zey 'ad no choice because of ze debt. She 'ad to explain everyzing to 'im 'erself."
Arienne shook her head in sudden exhaustion, and Sebastian reached out to put a gentle hand on her back as she continued. "I will nevair know 'ow she earned zat much trust from 'im," she said faintly. "'E trusts 'er with all zat 'e is from what we 'ave seen. I don't zink 'e even realizes it."
Minerva swallowed thickly, as equally horrified by that revelation as the others. Harry had never had a single person to turn to! And as she looked back over the years, she could not agree with Arienne: she had done something wrong. She had ignored all the signs, and had not offered him the kind of guidance that he so desperately had needed.
She could not help but wonder how it was that Harry had managed for this long without having someone to teach him the things he needed to know, let alone how to tell right from wrong.
Minerva scarcely noticed the tears that were now flowing freely down her cheeks. He had essentially been tortured for almost his entire life. And then, on top of it all, Albus let Severus run roughshod over him. It was absolutely appalling, and if not for the tea, she might have run from the room.
"Merlin!" she whispered again. "Why would Albus allow this to happen?"
"'E did not allow it to 'appen, Minerva," said Sebastian heavily. "I think 'e made it 'appen."
Minerva's gaze snapped back to him and her eyes went wide. "What?" she breathed.
Sebastian leaned forward again, and the anger returned to his eyes as he met her gaze directly. "'Arry was unaware of 'is inheritance," he explained. "Albus kept all but the smallest vault from 'im. I already suspected something was wrong there, and then the goblins approached 'im on a visit to the bank. An audit showed that Albus 'as embezzled over eighty million Galleons from the Potter Estate that we know about so far, funding an organization called the Order of the Phoenix."
Her eyes went impossibly wide upon hearing this, and a blazing anger welled up within her. "HE'S STEALING FROM HARRY TO FUND THE ORDER?!" she roared, completely incensed by this new information.
"Yes," frowned Sebastian, his eyes narrowing. "Do you know what this Order is?"
She closed her eyes for a long moment to contain her anger before answering. "It was established in the last war," she explained, "for the purpose of fighting You-Know-Who. It hasn't been active in a long time, but Albus was the leader."
The Delacours exchanged a troubled look. "There is an active prophecy in the Department of Mysteries regarding 'Arry," noted Sebastian. "We 'ave not yet accessed it, and I 'esitate to do so. Prophecy is perilous, and I believe that is the trap that Albus 'as fallen into. I believe 'e knows what it says."
Minerva was wide-eyed at this revelation. "It's active, you say?" she whispered.
"Yes, why?" frowned Sebastian.
"Because that's why You-Know-Who went after the Potters," she said absently, staring off into space. "It wasn't well known at the time, and I believed it fulfilled when he failed to kill Harry, but if it's still active..."
"...then that is why Albus is so interested in 'Arry Potter," finished Sebastian, though he didn't look the slightest bit surprised.
Silence fell, and Minerva did her best to process what she knew. It was a lot to take in, and it was horrifying. Albus had purposely kept Harry in a supremely abusive home so he could be tortured for some reason, and had stolen massive amounts of money from his family estate. And kept him in the dark the whole time.
It was appalling. She did not have the words.
"But why try to stop the marriage?" she wondered aloud. "That doesn't make any sense. I can understand keeping him with those people if he was trying to keep his inheritance for the Order, but the marriage?"
"Control, Minerva," said Arienne quietly. "Wiz Fleur in ze picture, 'Arry will never be loyal solely to Albus."
"Everything is about control," agreed Sebastian. "'Arry was so desperate to be free of the Dursleys that 'e would trust anyone who came along, and that man was Dumbledore. But Albus made a crucial mistake in not recognizing the life debt before I found out about it. I intend to unravel the entire thing, and I will take 'im down. 'E is a criminal now, Minerva, nothing more."
Minerva stared blankly at a nearby wall for a long while, her mind nearly buckling under the weight the knowledge she now possessed. She had absolutely no reason to doubt the Dealcours; not only was Sebastian internationally respected, but Harry was no fool. He might get himself into situations, but he always got himself out again – and he had made no effort whatsoever to do so in this instance.
Which meant that Harry trusted them completely.
Not to mention, it was too easily verified simply by talking to the boy. No, they were on the level, and that meant that a man who she had greatly respected until now had somehow strayed from the Light. For what Light Wizard would ever even consider subjecting a child to that torture?
It was no longer surprising that Fawkes left him for Harry and Fleur. Albus was incredibly angry about that, but by Merlin, he deserved it!
"What do I do?" she asked finally, trying desperately to pull herself back together.
"Nothing at this time," advised Sebastian. "This 'as to be 'andled carefully, and Severus Snape is the first step. We 'ave to show a pattern, and get Albus out of 'is positions of power. Otherwise we will be impotent to stop 'im and I will be forced to bring 'Arry to France permanently, Prophecy be damned. 'E already spoke with Madame Maxime when Dumbledore threatened to expel 'im, and 'as 'er approval to transfer if 'e wishes."
"WHAT?" yelped Minerva. "When did Albus threaten to expel him?!"
"Yesterday," smirked Arienne. "Ze memory is worth watching. 'Arry 'andled it quite well."
Sebastian chuckled in genuine amusement. "I didn't think 'e 'ad it in 'im, but it was quite masterful," he smirked.
Minerva snorted in morbid amusement. "Perhaps in a moment," she nodded. "I think I would like to see that. First, though, are you absolutely certain that your guardianship will hold up?"
"Positive," nodded Sebastian. "It was signed with a blood quill, and sealed by magic. It cannot be undone. And for the record, I did offer 'im the chance to select someone else, and 'e declined."
Minerva wasn't surprised by this; they had done something truly remarkable for him, and it was no surprise that he would be grateful. "I think you'll be good for him," she decided, "and I'm certain that Fleur is. I've never seen him so relaxed and happy."
Sebastian smiled. "They are a wonderful match," he agreed. "Fleur 'as 'ad that obnoxious attitude of 'ers ever since 'er allure started causing 'er problems, and this is the first time she 'as willingly dropped it for someone. I don't think it is going to change; she likes who she really is, and 'e allows 'er to show it."
"And she sees 'im only for 'oo 'e is, not for 'is fame," smiled Arienne. "One of very few who do, I think."
"I only know of one other," agreed Minerva. "To be honest, I thought he would end up with Miss Granger."
Sebastian laughed. "Fleur talked to 'er about that," he admitted. "She thinks of 'im as a brother, Minerva. It would never work."
Minerva wasn't sure she agreed with that sentiment — and from the look on Arienne's face, neither was she convinced. It wasn't worth pursuing, however; there were weightier matters afoot. Sitting back, she took a moment to reflect on the conversation so far.
She was going to have to blow off some serious steam before she saw Albus again, but she thought she could handle it. He had gone 'round the twist, and now it was time to change allegiance. It saddened her that it took a French Wizard to notice the problem, but at least it was noticed.
"I'll do whatever I can to help him," she decided. "So tell me how I can help, and I will do it."
"For now, just keep an eye out for him," said Sebastian. "I am doing a lot of digging to figure out 'ow to discredit Albus irreversibly. I almost wish he 'ad taken the marriage to court, because I could 'ave gutted 'im. 'Arry would never 'ave forgiven me, though, since it would mean letting 'is past out."
"Yes, that would certainly do it, wouldn't it?" mused Minerva.
"We will find something," promised Sebastian. "The theft is almost good enough on its own, so we should not need too much more." Then he switched to a quieter tone. "And please do not attempt to discuss 'is past with 'im unless 'e approaches you, Minerva," he warned softly. "It will only do 'arm. We 'ave already made arrangements for someone to 'elp 'im over the summer."
Minerva nodded her agreement. While she would like to at least apologize to him, she could see where it needed to wait. Based on their comments, she was guessing that his new wife was aware of all of this, so she would have to do for right now. That was probably the one advantage to their age difference: she had some additional life experience, and that would help him greatly.
Now all she had to do was figure out how she was going to respond to Dumbledore the next time she saw him.
Chapter 26
The Trial of Severus Snape
In the two weeks that followed, life settled into some semblance of normalcy for Fleur and Harry. Having been verbally eviscerated by Sebastian, Dumbledore didn't dare approach them, which was quite a relief for both. Fawkes remained in their company, and even attended school with one or the other, depending on the day.
The latter drew a large amount of attention and speculation, but they ignored it.
Harry continued to stay in the Beauxbatons carriage, and that gave them the opportunity to further explore their relationship with each other. It was slow going – Harry was exceptionally shy in spite of the front he maintained most of the time – and Fleur privately felt that she would not know a fraction of what she did about him if not for her father's investigation. Her knowledge of his past had given her a lever to use in prying into his inner self.
Fleur enjoyed that time, and was looking forward to the summer more and more. Chateau Delacour was positioned outside an idyllic little town, and she relished the idea of spending time with Harry in that quaint little world. It was a peaceful place, and if there was one thing that Harry needed, it was peace and quiet.
His life was a madhouse!
And that was demonstrated clearly by their current situation. April second had rolled around, and it was time for the trial of Severus Snape. To their chagrin, they found that their arrival at the Ministry building was anticipated, and the next thirty minutes were spent dodging reporters and trying to get to where they needed to be. She still wasn't sure how they managed to avoid answering questions.
Harry made his way to the witness waiting room, and Fleur had taken a seat in the spectator gallery. The courtroom itself was like something out of a medieval story: an enormous stone room, lit with guttering torches; a long, imposing raised section where the judges sat; a huge throne-like stone chair with chains embedded to restrain the accused; and, incongruously, a wood-paneled witness box that looked like something from a Muggle television show.
Some old crone was presiding over the trial, as Madam Bones had recused herself to prosecute. And to her shock when he entered the courtroom, Dumbledore himself was defending. She had to wonder if the man had lost his mind: tying himself to Snape's fate would only gain him derision and loathing when the man was convicted.
And convicted he would be, if the witnesses so far were any indication.
They were using an enormous Pensieve to project the memories to the court and spectators, and so far the evidence was damning. Even Fleur, who knew the story, was absolutely outraged. To see children treated in such a way was appalling.
Memory after memory of insults, abuse, and injury were shown. The man treated children like they were dirt on his shoes, and regularly frightened them into failing their lessons. How could one learn like that? And worse, when a child was injured, often he would ignore them or just berate them further unless they were wearing green and silver.
How the man had been allowed to continue teaching was anyone's guess.
And Dumbledore? Dumbledore watched impassively. It was as though he was impervious to the man's crimes, and he did his best to tease out causation from the victims, as though they had somehow antagonized the man. As though anything they might have done could have justified it.
Madam Bones, livid as she was, kept a cool head and presented her case methodically, repeatedly objecting to Dumbledore's questioning of the students as though they were on trial themselves. They could not stop the answers from coming because of the Veritaserum, but fortunately, he had yet to find anything substantive. Still he tried to pin the blame on the students rather than the teacher, and it was hard to listen to.
The rest of the spectators – and even the members of the Wizengamot panel – were visibly angered by what they saw. Most of those sitting in judgement were ancient and had never had Snape as a teacher, and their shock and anger were written clearly on their faces. Several reporters were scribbling furiously, and Fleur suspected that this would be highly damaging to Dumbledore and Hogwarts in the days to come.
And then, finally–
"The prosecution calls Harry James Potter to the stand," called Bones in a ringing voice.
The courtroom instantly fell into a hush.
Fleur was apprehensive about this. They had not known that Dumbledore would be questioning him while he was under Veritaserum, and that was a problem. Worse, she saw the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, and it meant that he was up to no good. She could not object, could not warn Harry, and had no idea what to do.
Her father stiffened beside her, but then he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "It'll be okay, Fleur," he whispered in French. "The worst that can happen is we have to move our timetable forward. We have enough evidence now to keep him from wiggling out of it."
"Are you sure of that, Papa?" she asked worriedly.
"Nothing is ever certain, chérie, but I don't think it will be a problem."
Fleur nodded her understanding and clung to the statement. As far as she was concerned, both of the men on the defense side should be in prison. But as much as she did not like the situation, what could she really do? She was not a part of the proceedings.
The murmurs that started when Harry's name was announced reached deafening levels, and as he walked in, she could tell that he, too, saw the problem. His eyes darkened when he spotted his Headmaster, and his brow furrowed. He exchanged a look of concern with Amelia – she apparently had not known either – but otherwise remained impassive as he approached the witness box.
The presiding judge finally shot sparks from her wand to quiet the courtroom.
"Silence!" she shouted. "Mr. Potter, thank you for coming. Prosecution, please proceed."
"Thank you, Madam Rosen," said Amelia into the sudden silence. "Mr. Potter, we will now display the memories that you have provided us. Please watch closely, and you will be questioned on the content when we are finished."
Harry nodded his understanding, and Amelia played the first memory: Harry's first ever Potions lesson. Even seeing it a second time, Fleur was angered by it – and the sounds of outrage from the spectators and even some of the judges told her that she was not alone. Watching any eleven year old being mercilessly bullied by an adult was hard to take, and this one was a hero in every sense of the word.
As the memories continued, the outrage only grew. Fleur had to wonder why they thought it was so much worse when Harry was involved, but it was as though his presence, and his victimization by Snape, had galvanized them in a way that none of the other witnesses or their recollections could. Harry himself continued to sit impassively though, outwardly unaffected.
When the last one was played, Madam Bones nodded up at the judge, who turned to Harry and spoke. "Mr. Potter, counsel would like to question you regarding the memories you provided. Will you consent to the use of Veritaserum?"
And that was when Dumbledore put his two cents in. "Objection, Madam Rosen," he called in a ringing voice. "Mr. Potter's legal guardians are not present, and have not given their consent to the use of Veritaserum. In fact, I do not believe they agreed to his testimony in this trial!"
A murmur arose in the courtroom, but Amelia rose unconcernedly to her feet. "If I may approach, Madam Rosen, I have written permission from Mr. Potter's guardians, and will take an oath as to its authenticity, as I was the one to obtain it."
Dumbledore was visibly shocked by this, and Fleur heard her father snicker, "Take that, you old goat!"
"You may approach, Madam Bones."
It didn't take long for the document to be verified, and Madam Bones gave her oath that it was valid and – at Dumbledore's insistence – that she had not coerced Harrys' guardians in any way. Dumbledore looked even more shocked at this, and now Fleur couldn't help but chuckle herself. The old man still didn't know about the change!
Finally the judge turned back to Harry. "Now that that is out of the way," she said with an irritated glance at Dumbledore, "Mr. Potter, will you consent to the use of Veritaserum?"
Harry frowned, and his green eyes darted to Dumbledore, then to Snape, and then back to the judge. His brow furrowed in concentration, and his hesitation was palpable. The judge looked to be getting impatient, but before she could speak again–
"Conditionally, Madam Rosen," he offered finally.
Another murmur rose in the courtroom, but it was short lived. "And what is your condition, Mr. Potter?" asked the surprised and interested judge.
"With all due respect, ma'am," said Harry deferentially, "I don't trust certain people not to take advantage, including the defense counsel. I would ask that questions be relayed to me through either my wife or my father-in-law, who I know I can trust to protect my interests. I would also like to be blindfolded because I don't want to be attacked with Legilimency while I'm not aware of my surroundings."
The judge was shocked by his request, and Fleur smiled widely at her husband's sheer genius. Even her father was smiling broadly, and a low murmur rolled through the crowd at the implications. Harry Potter did not trust Albus Dumbledore!
Finally the woman recovered. "Are you certain this is necessary, Mr. Potter?" she frowned. "Surely you cannot be so concerned."
Harry shook his head. "I'd prefer not to get into specifics, ma'am, but I have very good reason."
Another murmur, and the judge studied Harry carefully. Fleur waited with baited breath: it was a reasonable request, but also highly unusual. She had no idea how they would arrange it, but it occurred to her that they should do this for all Veritaserum-influenced witnesses...
Finally, the woman nodded. "Very well, Mr. Potter, I will allow it," she decided. And then she turned to scan the spectator section, her gaze finally landing on Fleur. "Madame Potter, are you willing to serve as the designated questioner?"
Smiling slightly at the proper form of address, Fleur rose smoothly to her feet, drawing the gazes of everyone in the room. There were several clunks as men fell over – she had to hide a grimace – and the sudden rise of whispers as the women started to gossip. The reporters held their pads ready, and watched her hungrily.
"I would be 'onored, Madam Rosen," she said clearly, "but I think my fazzer would be a bettair choice. 'is Eenglish is much better zan mine."
Harry smiled a soft smile at her, and she couldn't help but return it. Then the judge shifted her gaze. "Director Delacour, what say you?" she prompted.
"I am honored to serve," he nodded. "Let it be known to the court that I also possess bar certification in Britain, and may I request that I be allowed to raise objections to any questions that are improper or not of relevance to the case, so that I may properly protect my son-in-law?"
"Your terms are acceptable, Director," she nodded. "Please approach the floor. Madame Potter, thank you for your honesty."
Fleur nodded and sat down, and her father gave her shoulder a squeeze as he moved off to the floor. A glance at Dumbledore showed his opinion of the subject: he was steamed! She had a sneaking suspicion that he had, in fact, planned on using Harry's vulnerable state to gain access to his mind.
It was a relieved Harry that spoke briefly with Sebastian before the proceedings paused to make arrangements. The small smile on his face told Fleur that he was enjoying himself, ruining Dumbledore's day like that, and she could not disagree. Actually, she found it quite surprising that the man didn't object, but suspected that he knew he wouldn't win.
He was already in the hole, so to speak, for his objection over the supposed lack of permission.
Finally the judge called everyone back to order, and Harry was blindfolded and the potion administered. Then a paper was passed to her father, and he asked his first question; they had erected a special privacy shield so Harry could only hear someone within, and that someone was Sebastian. Everyone else could hear everything said on both sides of the barrier.
"Mr. Potter, are all the memories you observed 'ere today true and correct?" asked Sebastian.
"I don't know," replied Harry.
Fleur frowned and noted that Dumbledore looked satisfied about something, but Amelia whispered in Sebastian's ear, and he nodded. "Please explain, Mr. Potter," he said simply.
"Memory number twenty-four is not mine. The rest are true and correct."
Dumbledore's scowl was pronounced, and Fleur guessed that he had somehow tampered with the evidence to invalidate Harry's testimony. He must have known that he would be the most damning witness of the lot, and endeavored to mitigate it. Illegally, at that!
Sebastian then went on to ask several questions about each memory, validating the major points of what occurred, and closing as many doors for the defense as possible. Finally, though, it came to Dumbledore's turn to ask questions – and when Sebastian saw what was written on the paper he was handed, he rolled his eyes.
"Mr. Potter, do you 'ate Severus Snape?"
"I dislike him."
"'ave you ever stolen from Mr. Snape's Potions stores at 'ogwarts?"
"No."
And so it went. Ironically, where each of Dumbledore's questions were designed to put Harry in a bad light, none of them worked. They only made Snape look more and more petty. And the man himself, who was seated scowling in his chair, looked angrier and angrier. Fleur made a mental note to keep an eye on him; it was unlikely that anything would happen, but they could not take the chance.
"Did you curse Draco Malfoy outside the Potions classroom in an incident that resulted in injury to both Mr. Malfoy and Miss 'ermione Granger?"
"No."
"HE'S LYING!" roared Snape, suddenly jumping to his feet. "THE SERUM IS DEFECTIVE! THE LITTLE BASTARD IS–"
"SILENCE!" roared the judge. "The serum was certified by a proper Potions Master, Mr. Snape! Now be seated before I have you restrained!"
Snape growled as he dumped himself back into his chair, and Fleur smirked in enjoyment. She had heard the story of that incident even before she met Harry, and it was only their method of questioning that was the problem. Harry had tried to curse Malfoy, but he hadn't actually done it, cursing one of the boy's friends instead.
The questions continued for a while longer, still doing nothing but damaging Snape's case. Dumbledore seemed increasingly frustrated, too, but — perhaps fortunately — was never foolish enough to ask an out of bounds question. It looked like Harry's precaution had paid off handsomely.
"I have no further questions, Madam Rosen," Dumbledore finally said.
"Very well," she nodded. "Administer the antidote."
A few moments later, and Sebastian removed the blindfold. Harry's green eyes immediately sought out Fleur, and she smiled at him, warmed by the fact that she was so high on his list of priorities. It was scary to think they'd been together for only a month, and married for a mere two weeks. It felt like forever!
The judge apparently noticed the target of his smile, because she smirked. "Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Potter," she offered. "You may join your wife in the spectator section if you wish."
Harry flashed her a smile and thanked her, and then extracted himself from the witness booth and returned with Sebastian. The latter moved off to an open seat some distance away, leaving his former spot for Harry, who arrived and gave Fleur a gentle hug and a kiss, which was – annoyingly – photographed several times. Somehow they managed to ignore that little fact.
"I am so relieved, 'Arry," she whispered to him. "I did not know zat Dumbledore would be questioning, but your solution was perfect!"
Harry smiled tightly back at her, his own relief reflected in his eyes. "Dumbledore screwed up," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't know what to do, but I thought of it while they were arguing about my permission to testify."
Fleur grinned at him. "'E is losing 'is touch," she smirked.
She leaned into him then, her honest relief driving a desire for comfort. Harry's arm came around her and he laid his head on her shoulder, while she leaned hers on top of his. Another flash went off, and they both rolled their eyes in eerie synchronization. Before either could make a snarky comment, however, Madam Bones stood to give her closing statement.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot," she said strongly, "the evidence speaks for itself, and my statement is merely a formality. You have all witnessed the disgusting atrocities committed by the defendant. As a supposedly former Death Eater, he has never been a pleasant man, but that is no excuse for abusing our children. He has caused irreparable harm not only to them, but to our society as a whole.
"Auror enrollment is down over eighty percent in the years since he started teaching. I only discovered the correlation recently. The Potions scores of students coming out of Hogwarts have been abysmal for the duration, and NEWT Potions is required for entrance to the Auror Academy. And Severus Snape is the one and only cause.
"He does not teach Potions, ladies and gentlemen. His class is an exercise in intimidation and humiliation, and serves no other purpose but to break our childrens' spirits. I myself have a niece at Hogwarts, and I stand before you today, ashamed of myself for not discovering this sooner. It is the actions of a few brave students that brought this to my attention.
"Will you support them, or will you deny them the justice they so richly deserve? Will you support the hundreds of past and present students that bravely came forward, or will you deny them justice? How will we reward their bravery? Will they have faith in their government to do the right thing when this trial is over?
"That is the decision you must make today. Make no mistake, if Severus Snape is allowed to walk free, we will have failed, and the world will know. We will be a laughing stock, and our citizens will no longer be able to trust us to protect them. That is how solid this case is. I beg of you to find Severus Snape guilty, and to sentence him to the extent of your ability.
"Thank you."
Madam Bones sat down, and there was a ringing silence in the courtroom in the wake of her speech. The reporters were scribbling even more furiously now; she had just given them an angle to cover regarding the effectiveness of Wizarding government. There was almost no way that the Wizengamot could find him innocent in the wake of it.
"Damn, she's good," breathed Harry appreciatively.
"Oui," smiled Fleur. "It is good to 'ave 'er on our side, non?"
"Very," he nodded.
Finally, Madam Rosen looked to Dumbledore. "Chief Warlock," she intoned. "Your statement please."
Dumbledore looked old and tired as he rose to his feet, clearly anticipating the defeat of his case, and next to him, Snape seethed in anger. The man had done nothing to help his cause; he didn't even look like he felt guilty. Not once during the trial had he shown any form of remorse. And neither had Dumbledore, for that matter.
In truth, she thought it bad for Dumbledore that he was defending, considering his position as Headmaster. If someone decided to raise a stink about it, and found that Dumbledore had known the truth all along as he so likely did, his position was as good as gone. Fleur couldn't help but think that it would be a truly wonderful thing.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he intoned solemnly, "honored members of the Wizengamot, thank you for your time. This trial has been long and difficult, and there was indeed a great deal of seemingly damning evidence presented. But in spite of such an eloquent plea from Madam Bones, I must ask you instead to look at the facts.
"Never before in the history of this body have Pensieve memories been allowed as evidence. We are each biased by our views, and I believe that the memories reflect that fact. These students, brave though they are, were young when these memories were created. Young minds often lash out at authority, and that creates a bias in their remembrances.
"Your job is not to satisfy the public, ladies and gentlemen. As much as we all wish to do so, it is not there that our duty lies. Rather, our duty lies with the truth. Our duty lies with justice. Our duty lies, with ensuring that an innocent man is not unjustly punished."
A series of disgusted groans ran through the audience, and Fleur had to agree. Who was he kidding? Was he really so blind as to think that was going to work? Even were the memories biased in emotional terms, the facts could not be disputed.
"Severus Snape has served Hogwarts admirably for over a decade," he continued. "Prior to that, yes, he was at one time a Death Eater. He made a terrible mistake in his youth, but he was not without remorse. He realized his mistake with the horrors that Voldemort–" a gasp went up at the name "–asked him to commit. And instead of running, instead of doing what was asked of him by a madman, he came to me and turned spy.
"That is a difficult task, and one that is fraught with danger. He provided us with critical information that helped stem the tide of war, and it speaks highly of his character. And now we allow biased children to sully his name through a device that does not represent reality?
"I must submit, as I did earlier this day, that the Pensieve has never been allowed as a method of presenting evidence. There is a reason for this, and we must not ignore that. Is Severus strict with his students? Yes. He teaches a dangerous class. In that class, mistakes can cost lives if proper motivation is not provided.
"But is he abusive? No, I do not believe that he is. Severus has endeavored to instill discipline in his students to ensure that they do not harm themselves. Are we to punish him for that?
"I think the answer is clear, ladies and gentlemen. You must find Severus Snape innocent, because we cannot punish a man for doing the job that is asked and required of him. Thank you."
As Dumbledore spoke, a smug expression appeared on Snape's face, as though he had somehow been vindicated by Dumbledore's words. And in some ways, it had been true until now: Dumbledore kept him out of jail after his Death Eater days, and used all his political power to do it. And now he was banking on Dumbledore's reputation to save him again.
But Fleur did not think it would be enough. Regardless of what was said, the simple fact remained that far too many had come forward against the man. Not all of them could be biased, and they all showed exactly the same pattern of abuse. The man was doomed, or the British government really was broken.
"He forgot about the Veritaserum," smirked Harry.
And Fleur smirked right along with him.
"Thank you for your statements, Chief Warlock, Director Bones," nodded Madam Rosen. "The court will now stand in recess while we deliberate. The verdict will be delivered in one hour."
And with that, the trial was over.
In Fleur's mind, all that remained now was the sentence he would receive.