Tuesday morning found Harry once again eating breakfast with the Gryffindors. The twins had become a regular fixture, and Neville was sitting with them as well. The latter was currently whispering soothingly to his new girlfriend, who looked like she was running on a serious lack of sleep.
And then Fleur trudged into the Hall looking much the same.
The difference was extremely subtle – a slight dimming of the usual glow her skin gave off, and unusual bleakness in her eyes – but it was there, and noticeable to Harry. He frowned in concern as she zeroed in on them. He really hoped she wasn't having second thoughts, not that he would blame her if she was.
Ron blanked out as usual as she slid silently into her seat, and – perhaps the biggest sign of all – Fleur didn't spare him so much as a second glance. All she did was give Harry a wan smile and start to dish up without another word.
Deeply concerned, Harry leaned over to whisper in her ear.
"You alright?" he asked.
Fleur turned and smiled a genuine smile at him. "I am just tired, 'Arry," she replied.
Harry studied her for another few moments, and to his relief, found no deception. He reached over cautiously and brushed a silvery strand of hair away from her crystal blue eyes, and smiled understandingly at her. He knew quite well what it was to go sleepless, thank you very much, and did not wish that upon anyone.
When he turned back to the table, though, it was all he could do not to scowl. For once, Ron wasn't sporting that dreamy, blank look he got when she was around – but the one he was wearing was even worse. It was a greedy, jealous look, and though he hid it quickly when he realized Harry was looking, Harry did not miss it.
He really wasn't certain what more he could do. While he could have spoken to Ron about it, he would have thought that by now that Ron would have learned his lesson. Why should he have to repeatedly defuse his friend's jealousy, when there wasn't even anything to be jealous of?
His impending marriage was fraught with complications, and it wasn't even by choice. True, he was starting to think he was getting something very good out of the deal, but why should anyone be jealous of him when he'd had his choices stolen away? What if she'd been the devil incarnate? Ron had no concept of what Harry's life was like.
Thankfully, his musings were shortly interrupted by the arrival of the mail. Hedwig was nowhere to be seen, but a handsome little tawney delivered a message to Fleur, and Harry recognized the parchment as the kind favored by the Delacour family.
Fleur read through it and then handed it to him. "We are going to be busy, 'Arry," she sighed tiredly.
Harry took the letter and read it for himself:
Très chers enfants,
I hope this letter finds you well. Papa and I have recently completed the arrangements for your upcoming event. Barring unforeseen circumstances, it will take place on the twentieth of this month. We have chosen to host it at Chateau Delacour due to the short notice. I sincerely hope that this meets with both of your approval.
Tradition dictates that we must send invitations one week prior to the event. Harry, this is different from the Muggle tradition, so do not concern yourself. Any friends you invite will come if they are able, and will not be offended by the short notice.
Both of you should gather your lists and return them to us within two days. You may invite as many people as you wish. We certainly have the room.
Good luck in school!
Tout notre amour,
Maman & Papa
He smiled genuinely at the fact that they included him so naturally in the letter, and a strange warmth overcame him. Was this what having a family was like? Even if the circumstances were strange, and even if the letter was essentially business, it still felt wonderful. He had never been included like this before.
Of course, Ron was his usual self.
"Whozzat from?" he asked nosily. "Whassit say?"
"I do not see 'ow zat is any of your business," scowled Fleur.
"I was asking Harry," frowned Ron, torn between his usual awe and a bit of irritation.
Harry sighed in irritation. "It's Fleur's letter, Ron," he said, forcing himself to sound as casual as he could. "If she doesn't want you to know, then you don't get to know."
"But you always tell me!" he whined.
Hermione had apparently had enough. "Oh, honestly, Ronald!" she burst. "Will you just grow up? The world does not revolve around you!"
The twins exchanged deep frowns, communicating in that strange way they had, and Harry had a feeling that Ron would get a talking to sooner or later. Not that it would do any good; if he wouldn't listen to his own friends, then why would he listen to the twins? It seemed to Harry that he would simply have to learn on his own, and that could take a while...
"Do you always have to act like such a know-it-all?" Ron spat back. "Bloody hell, Hermione, I wasn't even talking to you!"
Harry sighed and lowered his gaze to his plate as the row got going. He was really getting tired of it. And if Ron would only listen to the things Hermione said, he would be much better off. Very few Gryffindors could stand him, and it wasn't likely that he would end up with any more friends at the rate he was going.
At least he'd given up on talking about the Second Task, though; Harry had to admit that it was an improvement, even if it was probably brought about by Fleur's frequent presence...
The twins conjured a scoreboard and kept score as the argument raged on between Ron and Hermione. Fleur, apparently too tired to take an interest, simply lay her beautiful head on Harry's shoulder, and he hesitantly put his arm around her. He wondered what was going on; she was usually so much livelier...
"Why were you up so late?" he whispered curiously.
"I was talking to 'ermione," she replied sadly. "She is very distressed over ze 'ate mail from zat 'orrible article."
Harry frowned at the thought. "We'll need to do something about that for you when we make our announcement," he whispered darkly.
"Oui," she sighed. "Papa will figure somezing out."
"WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP ACTING LIKE SUCH AN ARSE!"
Harry glanced up, startled by Hermione's uncharacteristic use of foul language. She was on the verge of storming away from the table – a rarity for her these days – and both she and Ron looked fit to be tied. A glance at the scoreboard showed Hermione winning by a landslide.
"She's got you there, Ronniekins," smirked a twin.
"Game, set, and match!" crowed the other.
The rather stunned expressions on his friends' faces when they caught sight of the scoreboard almost made Harry's morning worth it.
Probably fortunately, it was then that the doors to the Great Hall banged open, and a troupe of Aurors flooded the Hall in blood red robes. A hush swept across the room, and both Fleur and Harry turned around in their seats, curious as to what was going on. Neither had any idea.
The Aurors – including one with spiky pink hair who stood out like a sore thumb – were led by a stocky older woman who looked like she meant business. There was anger emblazoned on her features, and Harry found himself hoping that he wasn't involved. He really didn't need that kind of trouble.
The head table was packed with the usual array of Headmasters and staff, and Dumbledore rose to meet the incoming force.
"What is the meaning of this?" he boomed across the Hall.
"Good morning, Headmaster," the woman boomed back in an equally strong voice. And then she promptly ignored him. "Severus Snape, please step forward."
"Excuse me?" hissed Snape from his position at the end of the table.
"Damn," breathed an awed twin. "Sebastian moves fast!"
Harry glanced at Fleur only to see a wide, vindictive smile on her face. It was only a moment later that he realized he was mirroring it: Snape was going down! He couldn't wait to see how this played out. He had to agree that Sebastian had moved quickly – it had only been a few days – but he was much more interested in watching the show.
The woman raised an eyebrow when Snape made no move to cooperate. "I am placing you under arrest for multiple counts of child abuse and endangerment, Mr. Snape," she said seriously. "Come forward and surrender your wand."
The silence from the students was complete, and Snape spluttered in disbelief, his face draining of the only bit of color that it had ever possessed. Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked positively alarmed.
"I'm afraid I cannot allow that, Amelia," he frowned. "Professor Snape has committed no crime, and is a recognized Professor at this school."
Hermione sucked in a breath. "He's going to defend him again!" she hissed angrily.
"It won't do any good," said the other twin with grim satisfaction. "She's head of the DMLE. Dad says she's a tough cookie, and she won't take no for an answer."
"We have overwhelming evidence of these crimes, Headmaster," retorted the woman in a ringing voice. "We will be interviewing the students over the course of the day. This is not a request, it is a demand, and it is the law!"
Dumbledore looked like he'd choked on a lemon drop, and Snape was surprisingly frightened as he stared entreatingly at his erstwhile benefactor. Harry snuck a glance at Maxime and Karkaroff, and saw them watching the scene in horrified fascination. He couldn't help that his smile widened a bit: this was going to be a nasty hit to Dumbledore's reputation!
He would find no sympathy in Harry after leaving him on the Dursley doorstep like so much refuse...
The standoff continued in tense silence for a few more moments before Dumbledore finally sighed. "Very well," he said. "Severus, for now you must accompany them. I will have the charges dropped as soon as possible." Turning back to the the woman, he added, "You will not interview the students, Amelia. This is sufficient disruption for one day."
"Batard!" breathed Fleur. "He does not listen!"
"He's too used to being in charge," scowled Harry.
"Excuse me, Dumbledore?" asked Amelia sharply. "You are obstructing justice! Do I need to arrest you as well?"
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "I am the Headmaster of this school, Amelia," he boomed, "and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot which you serve. You will take your Aurors and leave the grounds immediately. We will discuss this in session tomorrow."
The pink-haired Auror snorted, and Amelia shot her a quelling look before turning back to the Headmaster. "I don't think so," she said flatly. "Or do you consider yourself above the law? Section 17, paragraph 3 of the Child Safety Act of 1780 declares that all allegations of child abuse or endangerment must be investigated post haste. Given that there are several hundred counts, I will not be swayed on this issue. Do you not care for the safety of your students?"
"There is no abuse taking place at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore stiffly.
A fair number of students snorted; they obviously disagreed with that statement.
Amelia merely stuck her hand out to the pink-haired Auror, who dropped a scroll in it. She then unrolled it without taking her gaze from Dumbledore, and only glanced briefly at it before speaking. "Two hundred seventy-four current and former students have come forward with evidence to the contrary," she announced in a ringing voice. "I have never seen a more clear-cut case. Will you deny them justice?"
"Nice!" breathed a twin.
McGonagall and several other Professors allowed their jaws to drop, and then turned almost as one to stare accusingly at the Headmaster. Harry could almost see the conclusions forming in their minds: they had all tried to do something about Snape, and he had blocked all of their efforts; now it was coming home to roost...
For his part, realizing that he couldn't win this battle, Dumbledore deflated and sighed. "Very well," he said quietly. "You may perform your interviews, but please keep the disruption to a minimum. I will discuss the matter with the Wizengamot tomorrow."
Amelia motioned to her Aurors, and they immediately headed for Snape, who backed up several steps, but was at least wise enough not to draw on them. The expression on his face would be seared into Harry's memory for years to come: it was alternating between terrified and angry. Harry did not fail to notice that several students subtly spit on him as he passed.
"Do what you will, Dumbledore," said Amelia meanwhile. "This is out of their jurisdiction unless you plan to overturn centuries of child safety laws." Then she turned toward the Gryffindor table, and her eyes scanned along it until they landed on Harry, who couldn't help his instinctual reaction. He shrank back against Fleur, intimidated by the woman's discerning gaze.
"Mr. Potter," she intoned. "If you would accompany us, we would like to interview you first."
Harry nodded and pushed nervously to his feet, and to his surprise, Fleur did the same beside him. "May I join you, Madame?" she asked politely. "I do not wish for 'Arry to be alone for zis."
Harry was sure he imagined it, but he almost thought he saw a faint smile flicker across the woman's stern face. "That would be acceptable, Mademoiselle Delacour," she nodded. "You are his girlfriend, correct?"
Sharp intakes of breath spread throughout the Great Hall at the question, and in spite of himself, Harry had to stifle a laugh. Nobody had figured it out, even after they went to Hogsmeade together! It was priceless! Although, he hoped that Skeeter didn't find out...
Somewhere behind him, Hermione snorted in morbid amusement, but he ignored her.
"Oui, Madame," smiled Fleur, sending a quiet murmur through the students.
"I must insist on accompanying you also," announced Dumbledore suddenly. "I will need to represent my students."
Harry scowled at the prospect, but Amelia shrugged and motioned for Harry to follow. "As you wish, Headmaster," she replied, "but you will not interfere or we will remove and arrest you for obstruction of justice."
From the corner of his eye, Harry saw McGonagall rise as well, which wasn't altogether surprising. He ignored it and followed the woman out of the room, with Fleur gliding along in silent support beside him. He appreciated her presence; it made the situation seem less daunting somehow.
He was nevertheless vibrating with nerves by the time they entered a room on the second floor, only to find that two more Aurors were just finishing up the arrangements. Apparently, the woman covered her bases.
"Relax and have a seat, Mr. Potter," offered Amelia with surprising kindness. "This is an informal interview to determine what evidence you can provide, nothing more. You are not under suspicion in this or any other matter."
Harry smiled weakly at her and took the chair in front of the teacher's desk as she settled in behind it. Fleur promptly dragged another chair over, and he was comforted when she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Dumbledore and McGonagall conjured chairs to the side. Meanwhile, the Aurors left the room to take up positions outside the door.
"Is this really necessary, Amelia?" asked Dumbledore before she could start. "Professor Snape has provided excellent service to the school for over a decade. There have never been any substantiated claims of misbehavior."
Harry couldn't help it: he snorted derisively.
"It's necessary," said Amelia shortly. Then she turned to McGonagall, who was eyeing the Headmaster with a narrow gaze. "And the reason for your presence, Professor?" she asked neutrally.
"I am Mr. Potter's Head of House," she said honestly. "I feel it is my duty to provide him with my support."
Amelia studied her for a moment before nodding, and then she turned to Harry. Her gaze was penetrating and made him squirm, but there was nothing terribly unfriendly about it. She simply watched him for a moment, as though sizing him up.
And before she could begin, Dumbledore interrupted, again. "Have Mr. Potter's guardians been contacted for permission to give this interview?" he asked knowingly.
Amelia slowly turned to Dumbledore with anger burning behind her eyes. "Mr. Potter does not stand accused, Dumbledore," she growled slowly. "His guardians do not need to be contacted."
"He will need their permission if he is to testify," stalled Dumbledore. "That is the law in this matter, and I do not believe that the Dursleys will grant their permission. The interview is therefore unnecessary."
"His guardians have been contacted," scowled Amelia, "not that it is any business of yours. He has their permission to handle the matter as he sees fit."
"I would know if the Dursleys were contacted," he frowned. "I can assure you that they were not."
Amelia shot Harry a warning look just as he was about to open his mouth to rip into the old man, and then she smirked at Dumbledore in obvious enjoyment. "Well, I don't know how you missed our visit, but Mr. Potter's guardians did indeed give their permission. Now, if we can get on with this? I don't have all day."
Harry smirked as he suddenly understood. They were keeping him in the dark about the change of guardianship! He felt a certain amount of vindictive pleasure at the knowledge that, for once, he knew more than Dumbledore did about something.
When she finally turned away from Dumbledore, Amelia once again settled her gaze on Harry. "I understand that you provided two memories to the initial investigation, Mr. Potter?" she asked after a moment.
Dumbledore sat up straighter in his seat, and a glimmer of anger appeared in his eyes. Harry, however, ignored it. "Yes ma'am," he nodded. "My first Potions class with him, and my most recent."
"When did this happen?" demanded Dumbledore.
Amelia glared at him. "Silence!" she snapped.
Then she turned back to Harry as though the interruption had not taken place. "Has Professor Snape ever acted in an abusive manner toward you or your fellow students?" she asked.
But Fleur spoke up before he could answer. "If I may, Madame," she said softly, "could you per'aps provide us wiz your definition of abuse?"
Amelia looked surprised, but then she smiled and nodded approvingly. "You make a good point, Mademoiselle, thank you," she nodded. And turning back to Harry she said, "By abuse I mean intimidating behavior, verbal insults, inappropriate physical contact, obvious favoritism, or extreme punishments of any kind, physical or otherwise."
Dumbledore frowned at her description, but did not dispute it, and Harry nodded his understanding. Giving Fleur's hand a thankful squeeze, he paused to order his thoughts as he decided how to answer the question for maximum impact. Finally, he settled on a strategy.
"He's never touched me, ma'am," he admitted, causing Dumbledore to nod approvingly at him. But then he dropped the proverbial bomb. "But as to the others, I would have to say yes to all of them."
Dumbledore opened his frowning mouth, but Amelia beat him. "Can you provide me with examples?" she requested.
"Yes, ma'am," he nodded politely. "He regularly insults my parents and me to my face, and he's pretty harsh with the other students too, unless they're in Slytherin. He leaves them alone. He's also well known for taking points and giving me detention because someone else blew up their cauldron, which he likes to blame on me. And honestly, ma'am, he hasn't taught them how not to blow up their cauldrons. I've had more than one four-hour detention from him for that kind of incident."
"Surely you exaggerate, Harry," interrupted Dumbledore. "Professor Snape would not take points or give detentions unnecessarily."
Harry scowled deeply. "Are you calling me a liar, sir?" he asked in a dangerous tone.
"I am sure that you are merely mistaken," replied Dumbledore serenely. "Perhaps you have not realized the magnitude of your transgressions. Many students do not."
"Do you want to see it in a Pensieve?" he hissed angrily. "Or do you care so much about him that you won't even give us the time of day?" Then he paused for a moment before– "Why are you so afraid of having him investigated, Professor?" he challenged. "Is it because he's a Death Eater?"
McGonagall sucked in a sharp breath at the accusation, and apparently Dumbledore had hit his limit. He puffed up and rose to his feet, before– "That will be detention and fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," he said sternly. "I will not tolerate disrespect from students toward the Professors."
Amelia merely raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore, completely unimpressed by his posturing. She then grabbed a blank parchment and a quill and started writing something as she spoke. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she intoned. "You are hereby charged with obstruction of justice and intimidation of a material witness in an active felony case."
"This is a school-related matter, Amelia," replied Dumbledore condescendingly. "I am permitted to punish my students as I see fit."
"Not when they are being interviewed for a criminal case, Dumbledore, as you well know," retorted Amelia. "The charge stands, and I will provide a certified memory of this incident at your trial. You will be notified of the date in due course. Now, you will leave this room or be arrested, and I am ordering you to have minimal contact with my witnesses, or I will bring additional charges of coercion and illegal intimidation. Am I clear?"
Dumbledore was stunned by her speech, and Harry guessed that it had been a long time since anyone had dared to go against him. He was used to being the king of his castle, and pretty much in control of the entirety of Wizarding Britain through the Wizengamot and the court of public opinion. It felt surprisingly good to see that someone was willing to take the kind of risk that Amelia was taking at the moment.
"Yes," he said stiffly. "You are clear. I see that I cannot dissuade you from this foolishness."
"The only foolishness here is your continuing defense of a convicted Death Eater who abuses his students, Dumbledore," scowled Amelia. "Now leave so I can conduct this interview in peace!"
As Dumbledore stalked from the room, Harry took a moment to observe McGonagall. She was flabbergasted! Her jaw was hanging open, and as she stared after the Headmaster, her look of utter betrayal was almost painful. Harry felt a small amount of sympathy for her, though it didn't excuse her own lack of action...
"Am I going to have similar problems with you, Professor?" asked Amelia, drawing his attention back to her.
McGonagall shook herself out of her daze. "No, Director Bones," she said quietly. "But if I may, I would like to take Mr. Potter up on his offer to see the evidence. If Albus has been covering something like this up, I need to know so I can minimize the damage to the students."
Amelia studied her long enough that she started to squirm, before finally turning to Harry. "The choice is yours, Mr. Potter," she offered.
Harry looked down for a moment in thought. He actually liked McGonagall, and didn't want her to be on Dumbledore's side of this. But he needed to know where she stood. Whether he respected her or not, he needed to protect his interests, especially now that they affected Fleur along with him.
"Where is your loyalty, Professor?" he asked quietly after a moment.
McGonagall frowned. "I'm not certain that I understand your question, Mr. Potter," she admitted.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "I need to know if I can trust you," he said finally, spearing her with an assessing gaze. "Snape has done a lot of damage and I want him out, but I won't give the Headmaster any ammunition, so if you're just going to tell him what you learn..."
He let the statement hang, and Amelia gave a nod of agreement. McGonagall looked taken aback for a moment, but then she turned thoughtful, and he could see her thinking through her experiences with the venerable Albus Dumbledore. Finally she nodded to herself, and turned back to Harry.
"I give you my word as a Witch, Mr. Potter," she said solemnly, "that my only interest in this matter is to see the students protected. I will not willingly share any information about the case with Albus Dumbledore or his supporters without your consent. So mote it be."
To Harry's shock, the oath took hold with a white nimbus of light that appeared around her. She had taken a real magical oath! That was extremely rare, and meant that she was beyond serious about helping him. His respect for her increased by several notches.
"Thank you, ma'am," he whispered, feeling a bit guilty for doubting her. "I'm sorry, it's just– I have to protect myself, and the Headmaster hasn't been doing a very good job of it."
McGonagall's brow furrowed in confusion. "I hope you know that you can come to me, Harry," she said with unusual informality. "I will not deny that I have obviously let things go too far, but I promise you that I will try to do better in light of what I've seen today."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"Sebastian was right about you," smirked Amelia suddenly. "You are quite a remarkable young man, Mr. Potter." And then, turning to Fleur, she ordered, "And you had better take good care of him, Mademoiselle, or I will be most displeased."
Harry couldn't help his snort of amusement, and Fleur grinned at her. "Oui," she smiled. "Of zat you may be assured."
McGonagall cocked an eyebrow, but fortunately, she didn't ask.
"Now that we have the showmanship out of the way," grinned Amelia suddenly, "Let's talk about our case!"