Chapter 48: 47 - The End of an Era
Fleur was at a loss as to how to help her husband. The revelation of the Prophecy — and what it said about Albus Dumbledore — shook him far worse than she would have expected. It was one thing to know that he'd been betrayed, he told her, but quite another to know that the man was trying to get him killed, and what that would have meant.
And there truly was no other interpretation of events as far as they could see.
Along with Bones and "Croaker", they had hashed it out a bit more, and could come to no other conclusion. The final analysis they had come up with was that, at best, Dumbledore knew of the horcrux in Harry's scar right from the off, and set him up to die in order to get rid of it. The prophecy itself would prevent any direct action, thus he had to die by Voldemort's own hand.
He also utterly failed to consider what it would mean for the world if his plan succeeded — namely that Voldemort would win, and probably take over the world.
Harry was disturbed by it, but in a way it was probably a good thing. He was facing it, and would put it in the proper place in due time, and he would be better for it. In the end, though, all Fleur could do was offer the comfort of her presence.
Her father, of course, was incensed when they told him, but he agreed with Harry's assessment: there was nothing to be done. They would put him away via the theft trial, and go from there.
It was now Friday, and the last classes of the term were finally finished. They would be here for another few days before the carriage left for France, and Fleur fully expected Harry to be on it, returning home with her. It would be interesting to see his reception at the school. For now, however, they were once more sitting down for dinner in Hogwarts' Great Hall.
Dumbledore was once more riding his throne, and she was not at all surprised to feel his angry gaze upon them. His upcoming trial was giving him fits. Everyone presumed him guilty — which he was — and the students were no exception. This was the final nail in the coffin of Albus Dumbledore's vaunted reputation.
And so she ignored him.
Her young husband, on the other hand, was flipping through a book she had obtained for him. It was a tourist's guide to France, both muggle and magical. He was trying to learn about his new home country, and also trying to decide what he wanted to do this summer.
She expected that they would have a lot of fun; Harry had never had a true summer vacation before, and would likely want to do everything. Even having Gabrielle along would not be a deterrent; he adored the girl, and had never himself experienced many of the things a child her age would want to do. It would be quite rewarding for him to accompany her.
While Fleur always looked forward to getting away from school for the summer, this particular one was likely to be the best she had ever experienced.
"Earth to Potter," chirped a male voice.
"Female Potter, that is," chirped another.
Fleur blinked and looked up into the amused faces of the Weasley twins. Out of all the Weasleys, these were the two that she liked best. Oh, Bill was handsome and clearly a good man, but the twins were a lot of fun, and yet far more serious under the surface than most likely suspected.
"Something I can do for you?" she wondered.
"We were just asking Harrikins here," spouted twin number one.
"If there was any possibility of coming to visit over the summer," continued twin number two.
"Your lovely husband gave us his triwizard winnings, see."
"We want to start a joke shop."
"And we thought that maybe between your husband and your oh so beautiful self-"
"–along with the infamous Padfoot–"
"–we might come up with some good ideas for new joke products."
Fleur turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow.
"It's fine with me," he shrugged preemptively. "Not sure how much help I'll be though."
Before Fleur could answer, however, the doors to the Great Hall abruptly swung open. Every eye in the place turned to the doorway, where a gaggle of cloaked strangers were gathered. They looked to be adults, and mostly somewhat older ones, and they didn't hesitate to make their way up the center aisle toward the head table.
Dumbledore rose from his throne. "Brock?" he queried, clearly surprised to see whoever this was.
"Albus," a man replied.
"What are you doing here?" wondered Dumbledore. "School is still considered to be in session until the students leave the grounds."
"We're aware, Dumbledore," came a female voice from the end of the row of people. Fleur felt she had heard it before, but couldn't place it. That they had their hoods up made it difficult for her to identify anyone — assuming she would even know who they were with her limited view of British politics.
The question was answered, however, when across from Hermione, Neville stiffened. "That's my Gran," he whispered.
Fleur blinked.
"The Board has been in discussion for some time now, Albus," explained Brock, "and the conclusion we arrived at this afternoon should come as no surprise to you. Your appointment as Headmaster of Hogwarts is hereby terminated. We expect that you will be out of the castle by first light tomorrow morning."
You could have heard a pin drop in the Great Hall, so silent was the student body. Even the foreign students were listening attentively. Albus Dumbledore was known worldwide, and it wasn't every day you saw a wizard of his stature lose everything. Fleur could only think it justice, and she had no doubt that Harry felt the same.
"You know you cannot do that, Brock," frowned Dumbledore.
"Actually, we can," came a much more familiar voice from the closest end of the group. It was the voice of Amelia Bones; few knew that she had been elected to replace Lucius Malfoy on the Board of Governors. "Your tenure is being rescinded for cause, Albus. Your recent actions relating to the tournament, added to your continuing disrespectful treatment of the Potters, and in addition to the legal charges pending against you, have brought Hogwarts into disrepute. That's cause enough right there."
Fleur blinked at the reference, and wasn't surprised when Dumbledore turned toward them, his anger clearly spiking – but the Board was prepared for that.
"Don't look at them, Albus," snapped Brock. "The Potters did not report you, though they would have been well within their rights. More than a dozen others did, however. Further inquiries showed that the vast majority of the staff and student body considers your treatment of them abominable."
"It's over, Albus," came the voice that she now knew to belong to Augusta Longbottom. "Pack your bags. You're done."
"Perhaps we should discuss this in my office," frowned Dumbledore.
"It's no longer your office," snapped Longbottom impatiently, "and there's nothing to discuss. Pack your bags and get out!"
Brock put a hand on Augusta's shoulder. "Bluntly put perhaps, but accurate," he said easily. "Augusta is right, there is nothing to discuss. We won't be changing our minds. Please go gather your things and vacate the premises, Albus, you are no longer the Headmaster, effective immediately."
Fleur could do little but stare in morbid fascination as the scene unfolded, and knew that Harry was doing much the same next to her. This was like a dream come true! Her only regret was that they could not have done this months ago. A Hogwarts without Dumbledore in charge would likely be a far better place in her opinion.
For a long moment Dumbledore just stared at the group before him, and Fleur thought he might have a cardiac event — either that or start cursing everyone in sight. But finally he deflated, suddenly looking as old as he actually was. He shuffled around the table and out of the Hall with nary another word.
The silence was deafening.
Once he was out of the hall, Brock spoke up again. "Minerva, would you be so kind as to take over as Headmistress for what little remains of the term? Discussions are still ongoing, so I cannot promise a permanent appointment at this time."
"I would be honored, Governor Brock," nodded McGonagall. "Also, I would like to speak with the Board when you have the time. I have certain concerns that I believe were not sufficiently addressed by Albus."
"Any time, Minerva," replied Bones.
Brock, meanwhile, turned toward his impromptu audience. "Students of Hogwarts," he announced, "Please take this as a clear statement that we have heard your complaints, and are now taking action to see the issues corrected. Your former Headmaster held too much power for us to act before. That has now changed, and we want to see things corrected as much as you do. To our guests, we apologize for the situations you have been forced to witness. Rest assured, we will return Hogwarts to its former glory, and perhaps in the future you might visit again and see that for yourselves."
A cheer went up throughout the Hall, though Harry and Fleur remained silent. As happy as they were to see the man removed, it was also the end of an era. Change would be coming to the school, and only time would tell if it would be good or bad.
===[~]===
And so it transpired that Albus Dumbledore left Hogwarts in disgrace, not with a bang, but with a whimper. The man had clearly been shocked that the Board of Governors had dared to oust him, and hadn't known what to say. The article that followed in the next day's Daily Prophet praised the Board for its decisive action, and further pilloried Dumbledore.
Nobody shed a tear for the latter.
At lunch the next day, Harry received a note that McGonagall wanted to see him in her new office. He wasn't at all surprised by this; he had a feeling he knew what was coming. Unlike Dumbledore, however, McGonagall at least had the decency to include his wife in the invitation. And unlike Dumbledore, it actually was an invitation, not a summons.
Harry smirked at the thought that things were already getting better with the absence of the old goat.
He and Fleur made the familiar trek, but this time Fawkes remained in the Great Hall rather than accompany them. He was busy playing with the twins, and with Dumbledore no longer in residence, Harry had no need of help to keep his cool. Nor did he need to defend himself from Legilimency, as he highly doubted McGonagall would ever be so crass.
They arrived at the gargoyle only to have it jump aside for them, and he wondered if it would do that for everyone now. He had the sense that McGonagall would be far more approachable than Dumbledore ever was, assuming they kept her. And he hoped they did; while she had her foibles, they all seemed honest ones rather than the clear disregard for the students that Albus Dumbledore so often displayed.
They knocked on her door when they reached the top of the staircase, and were quickly invited in. Harry, however, stopped in shock when he saw the office. The change was immediately noticeable.
Gone was the clicking, whirring, and clacking that had normally greeted them here. None of Dumbledore's spindly little toys adorned the shelves any longer. Instead there were books on those shelves, as one might more rightly expect in a school. Though a couple of the higher ones were given over to what were obviously various awards and trophies of indeterminate origin.
The change, though not unwelcome, was entirely unexpected, and caught him completely off-guard.
"Thank you for coming," came McGonagall's stern voice, breaking through his examination of the new atmosphere. "Please, come in and have a seat."
Shaking himself, he turned to see her smiling knowingly at him. In front of her desk was a comfortable chair that he was absolutely certain had not been there when they entered the office. It also was clearly big enough for two, which amused him for some reason.
He and Fleur happily took a seat; both of them liked the woman, and neither were concerned about what would happen in this meeting — though if Harry was right about his suspicions, she wouldn't get what she wanted. And sure enough—
"I asked you here, Mr. Potter, in the hope of convincing you to return to Hogwarts next year now that Albus is gone," she said bluntly. Harry appreciated that she didn't beat around the bush. The woman stood and moved to look out the window, and Harry simply remained quiet; he could tell that she wasn't done yet.
Finally, she sighed. "I owe you an apology," she said, turning to look him in the eye. "In many ways, I failed you almost as badly as Albus did. My only defense is that it was not intentional. I have every intention of ensuring that does not happen again."
Harry couldn't help but be touched, and he teared up slightly as his emotions once more escaped his control. A squeeze of the hand from Fleur helped him wrestle it back, though; he was getting better at that. He couldn't wait until he was emotionally stable again.
The instability was annoying.
"Apology accepted," he finally said. "Your mistakes were honest, Professor, and you at least tried."
She smiled at him. "Thank you," she replied. Harry gave her the time as she let out a faint sigh and settled in at her desk. It was obvious that she already knew that they wouldn't return, apology or no, but she was going to try anyway. He could respect that.
"I know that returning next year would be an inconvenience, to say the least," she finally said. "I'm very prepared to be flexible there. It would be easy enough to arrange for private quarters for you both. Also, we do have need of several Professors and assistants, so we could quite possibly find a place for you here career-wise, Mrs. Potter, if you're interested."
Harry turned to Fleur, who was shaking her head in vague amusement. It wasn't the impolite sort, just the sort that said that the offer was all too expected. And it was; they had both discussed this the previous evening when Dumbledore was ousted. The approach would be coming, they knew; it was only who, when, and what they would offer that were questions.
"I appreciate ze offer, Madame Headmistress," she smiled. "But I must decline. I already 'ave an offer from Gringotts, contingent only on my final grades, and weel be accepting eet."
McGonagall's mouth quirked in amusement. "I'm not surprised," she replied with a smile. "You are obviously capable, and given the publicity in the tournament, you will likely be quite highly sought-after, at least for a while."
Fleur snorted cutely. "Zey can dream," she grinned.
Harry chuckled at her response, and that drew McGonagall's gaze back to him. Strangely enough, he really didn't want to disappoint the woman — he had the sense that she really would be a good Headmistress — but that ship had already sailed. He wasn't staying, and not because of Sebastian's assertion that his original transfer would be for good.
"I have to decline as well," he told her quietly.
McGonagall nodded, clearly having expected this. "May I ask after your reasons, Mr. Potter?" she queried politely. "I expected your response, but for my own sake, I would like to know so that I can pass it on to the Board of Governors. I'm sure you're aware that they will pressure me to get you back once they realize that the transfer was not a bluff."
Harry exchanged a long look with his wife. While he really didn't care what the Board thought — he was all too aware that things had been as bad as they were because the majority of that board was bought, probably with his own money — but he didn't want to leave McGonagall in the lurch. She was probably going to take a lot of flak for his refusal, and that wasn't fair.
Finally he sighed, and turned back to the newly-minted Headmistress, however temporary that appointment turned out to be.
"There's a lot of reasons," he admitted softly. "The fact that my wife and her family are in France is only the obvious one. The rest?"
Now it was Harry's turn to get up and move off to stare out the window. He had honestly tried to avoid thinking about this. There were too many bad memories tied up in this school. Only his budding skills in Occlumency allowed him to face it with any kind of aplomb.
"It wasn't just the staff of the school who failed me," he finally sighed, rubbing his eyes in sudden exhaustion.
"What do you mean?" asked McGonagall, he frown in her voice coming through clearly.
Fleur had some rather strong opinions on this topic, and he was thankful that she was keeping them to herself at the moment. While those opinions largely matched his own, he really needed to be the one to say it. Not only so that the woman knew it was coming directly from him, but also because he felt an almost primal need to finally express it.
"How many times did the students here turn on me, Professor?" he asked rhetorically, turning to look at her again. He could tell she was shocked by the question. "The first time I could forgive," he informed her. "Maybe even the second. But this year? They should have known better."
Harry shook his head and moved to sit back down next to his wife. "And the rest of the country isn't much better. Just look at how I was treated by the papers. The only reasons to stay would be the few friends I have here, and I'm sorry, but that's just not enough reason to put up with everything else that comes with it."
McGonagall's expression was pained as she sat back in her chair, her eyes closing in near grief over what she had just heard. What was missing, though, was any element of surprise. How could she be surprised? Nobody with two eyes could have missed what had happened over the years.
"I understand," she finally said, once more looking at him. "In your shoes I suspect I would do the same. For what it may be worth, I think your parents would be proud of you, and I think they would have supported your decision. All they would have wanted is for you to be happy."
Harry couldn't respond to that with anything more than a nod; he was too busy clamping down every last bit of control over his suddenly-chaotic emotional state. He cast about his memory, but could not remember hearing anyone — not even Sirius — ever telling him in such a direct way that his parents would have approved of him. He knew she was sincere, and she had known them.
It was a statement he cherished.
Fleur's arms came around him and he sank into her embrace, trying to use it to anchor himself. He had enough control now that he wouldn't burst into tears, but it was difficult. Strong emotions could still sneak up on him, and he needed more experience in reigning them in.
Luckily it was only the positive ones.
===[~]===
Harry sighed heavily as he looked around the Hall from the comfort of his wife's embrace. His emotions were still volatile, and so she was staying close, having learned over the last few months that he truly craved her touch. Where most people's touch made his skin crawl, hers was soothing. He didn't know if he would ever understand why there was such a difference.
He certainly wasn't complaining, though.
Soon they would board the flying carriage that would take them to Beauxbatons Academy in France. Harry was somewhat ambivalent about that. He had met few of the students since Fleur had no friends there, and had no idea how he would be received. He genuinely hoped they would simply ignore him.
In the mean time, he took in the state of the castle he had once thought of as home. The castle was, oddly enough, in a much better place than it had been during that event. They had lost a horrible professor of Potions, and shortly thereafter the worst bully in the school. Those two changes alone had a massive impact on everyone. The school was a much more pleasant place.
With the exodus of Albus Dumbledore, there were also other changes afoot. McGonagall had given an impromptu speech to the students, and warned explicitly that she would not be anywhere near as tolerant of bullying as was Dumbledore. That also meant that slurs like 'Mudblood' would be heavily punished.
Harry's immediate reaction was to wonder why Dumbledore hadn't done that in the first place – but then he remembered the words of the Unspeakable: Dumbledore was simply a different kind of blood bigot. It was disturbing to see all the indications that that was true. He hadn't yet shared that with Hermione, and she would probably be horrified when he did.
Soon, though, it would no longer be his problem.
Leaving his wife aside, the changes in Harry's life were less obvious, but no less significant in many ways. Hermione Granger had proven herself to be a true friend in a way he had never expected. She had helped him greatly, especially where his abrupt marriage was concerned. He owed her, big time.
He was very glad that she was transferring to Beauxbatons with him, though McGonagall was just as disappointed by that fact. Hermione had also been one of her favorites.
Ronald Weasley, on the other hand, would never be welcome in Harry or Hermione's company ever again. He had shown his true colors, and neither were about to forgive him. Harry had no idea how he turned out the way he had given the rest of his family, but then Percy was an idiot, too. Maybe it was just luck of the draw.
"I'm surprised that Ron hasn't been sniping at us," he suddenly mused. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of the redhead since Easter.
"I didn't tell you?" asked Hermione in obvious surprise. "Professor McGonagall threatened him with immediate expulsion if he ever bothered us again. She was furious with him for trying to hit me."
"As she should have been," growled Fleur darkly.
"Huh," nodded Harry. "That would explain it."
Harry finally spotted his former friend all the way at the other end of the Gryffindor table, and couldn't help but feel an unwelcome pang of sympathy. The boy was all alone, and it was clear he was being shunned by his housemates. While it was well deserved, Harry knew from experience just how much that sort of thing hurt.
He could only hope that Ron would find new friends next year since he and Hermione wouldn't be here. Harry no longer felt like he had personally lost much with the loss of that friendship, but he knew that Ron had lost a lot. The only question was whether he would ever truly realize what exactly it was that he'd lost.
Still, it was his own fault. Harry was just disappointed that he hadn't turned out to be a better friend.
Up at the head table, Madam Maxime finally stood, followed quickly by the students of Beauxbatons.
"It is time, mon amour," sighed Fleur.
Both of them rose respectfully and took a few moments to say goodbye to their few friends at Hogwarts, while Hermione did the same next to them. And then they began the journey out of the Great Hall toward the carriage. Harry was curious what it would be like to fly in that thing, but he was also apprehensive.
This was where it became an unavoidable truth that his life had truly and irrevocably changed.
"Relax, 'Arry," came Fleur's smiling voice. "You will 'ave time to adjust before you must attend ze school."
"You'd think I would be ready for this," he mused. "Not like it's the first time I've stepped into a new world, is it?"
"It's always different," noted Hermione. "Just because you handled one change, doesn't make you automatically ready for the next one. I'm nervous too, Harry, but we'll get through it."
"I'm glad you're coming, Hermione," he smiled. "I'm not sure what I'd do without you, especially since Fleur won't be there next year."
"'opefully your parents will let you stay wiz us and go as a day student," agreed Fleur.
"I haven't heard back on that yet, but I expect they'll be fine with it," smiled Hermione. "They liked your parents, so it shouldn't be an issue."
The conversation tapered off as they reached the carriage and filed inside. Fleur, Harry, and Hermione made their way to the suite that the Potters were staying in, which just so happened to have a balcony. They fully intended to sit outside and enjoy the weather for the flight home. Here on the ground, it was turned such that they had a perfect view of Hogwarts castle.
"I will miss this place if I'm being honest," Hermione sighed once they'd settled in. "There's so much history here."
"I'll miss the castle itself," Harry said, "but everything else? Not so much. The students, most of the Professors… I think we're well shot of them."
Hermione seemed to struggle with that for a moment, even as the carriage started bumping along the ground, gaining speed in preparation to take flight. Then she deflated though. "I wish I could disagree," she sighed, "but it was honestly worse than my muggle school, and that's saying something. If not for you I wouldn't have stayed."
"You will 'ave a better time at Beauxbatons," promised Fleur. "Especially once zey know zat you are an Order of Merlin 'older. Zat sort of thing confers respect."
Harry could only chuckle at Hermione's disgruntled expression. She wanted to be known for her abilities, not her awards — and now she understood why Harry had so many problems with that sort of attention. It was almost funny.
Harry leaned into Fleur as the carriage finally lifted off the ground. They watched in silence as the castle grew smaller in the distance, until it finally vanished from sight. Now there was nothing but blue sky all around.
"Well, there's no turning back now," smiled Harry.
"Was zere ever once you agreed to marry me?" grinned Fleur.
The three laughed as the carriage took them off into a new future. Only time would tell what it held for them, but for the first time in his life, Harry genuinely thought it would be a bright one.
A/N: This one has been bugging me for days, but I finally figured out what it needed, so it sprouted a few more words, and now I'm reasonably happy with it. Only the epilogue left to go. So, until then
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