Bab 24: 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."
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 knew what 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, very seriously!"
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.
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