Things end.
Harry's next meeting with Professor Dumbledore was on Wednesday afternoon.
"Harry, I've checked with someone who knows, and Tom's dark mark on his followers has faded completely away. I believe that since we ah… sent him through the archway, Tom Riddle is no more. Congratulations are in order, I believe the war with Tom Riddle is over for once and for all." said Professor Dumbledore, and he smiled at Harry in a grandfatherly way.
"Oh" said Harry. He wondered what he might do now. An idea came to him. Radical, yet promising.
"Professor, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but could I transfer to Beauxbatons now?" asked Harry.
Professor Dumbledore's twinkling stopped.
"Transfer to Beauxbatons?" he asked, sounding confused.
"Well, I don't get on with the Slytherins" said Harry "And I have a live friend there. You may remember Hermione Granger, she got maimed by the troll in first year?"
"I'll contact Madam Maxime" said Dumbledore, not sounding pleased. "Of course, in French your NEWT marks will be affected badly."
"I used a language acquisition potion for French years ago when I inherited the Black family wealth" said Harry.
"Those sort of potions don't help that much" said Professor Dumbledore.
"Well, I'll muddle through" said Harry, and he smiled; the smile didn't reach his eyes.
-==0==-
Harry dragged his featherlight, carefully packed school trunk out of his Slytherin boys dorm room, into the common room, headed for the door, for a carriage, for Hogsmeade, for Lupin and a portkey to France. He whistled cheerily as he walked.
"Potter!" said Greengrass, frowning "What are you doing?" she asked.
Harry spoke up "Oh, everyone, I'm transferring to Beauxbatons. It's been pretty rubbish, Can't say I'll miss this place or your charming personalities," and he started heading across the carpet, whistling again.
"Potter!" said Greengrass, getting up from the chair she'd been in and walking over to block Harry's way "You can't leave. Your arrangement with my family!"
"Oh Greengrass, we've fought like cats and dogs. I'll have a word with my Steward, and see about getting you off. I'd really prefer a housekeeper that didn't fantasize about murdering me." said Harry.
For some reason Greengrass blushed. Then she bit her lip "But… you were going to weaken." she said. Harry felt an odd combination of arousal and fear. It wasn't as nice as a young wizard might hope.
"Look, Greengrass, I'll get it changed to a fine. You can find some moron to terrorise on your own" said Harry.
Greengrass sighed. "You're an arsehole" she said, and pointed at Nott "Nott or Zabini, those are my choices; and what sane witch would want either!"
"Good thing you're mad" said Harry cheerily. "There are other houses, Greengrass. Maybe there's a Ravenclaw you can oppress?" And he gently pushed her unresisting form to one side and walked past, getting to the secret door, and pulling the large lever that opened it.
"Toodles" said Harry, and he headed out of Slytherin, out of Hogwarts.
He could not resist whistling cheerily. There was world outside Hogwarts, and it wasn't full of maniacs and dark wizards trying to kill him.
As Harry passed the boars on the front Gates, he felt a great weight lift off his shoulders.
-==0==-
There was a common room for the seventh year students, wood panelled and painted in off-white and powder blue. It was crowded with blue-robed witches and wizards. Harry stepped in through the double doors, adjusting the robes to sit straighter.
"Hello" said Harry, to the room of French students "I'm Harry Potter, transferring from Hogwarts."
"Bonjour" said someone; Harry looked around the room smiling slightly. There were dozens of witches here his age, and nobody hated him, or knew what he'd done at Hogwarts. In a manner of speaking, neither did he. The Blonde witches didn't look like Greengrass, and there were so many other girls who didn't remind him of her at all. Life, thought Harry was looking up.
-==0==-
Harry stepped down out of a Beauxbatons coach; the horse pulling it resolutely not magical at all, thank you very much, and looked for the second time at the town of Pont-le-Bâton. The streets were cobbled, the walls of buildings stones, the roofs orange terracotta tiles. Everywhere there were umbrellas and shop awnings and… it was the least British place Harry had ever seen.
Beside him, the ylang-ylang scented form of Mademoiselle Inès Auclair stepped down and she straightened her flowery dress. Harry glanced over. French witches, thought Harry, had rather more style than English ones. And given the milder climate near Beauxbatons, wore much lighter clothing. Harry's bits approved. Inès was the first witch Harry had asked to Pont-le-Bâton, and she'd agreed with a slight smile. Hermione admitted later in Arithmancy that she might have mentioned her friend Harry once or twice before. Importantly to Harry, Inès had dark hair.
Harry looped arms with Inès in the way the other Beauxbatons boys seemed to, and was exceedingly pleased it was a custom. His hands were quite sweaty, and this way Inès wouldn't know. Inès sauntered – Greengrass might have sauntered once or twice but most of the seventh year witches at Beauxbatons only sauntered. Another good point of Beauxbatons that Harry appreciated, and understood that Hermione wouldn't have mentioned; if she even noticed. Hermione, to Harry's annoyance still had a bit of a limp. Bloody Hogwarts.
After going to look in the windows of a small antique store, a florist, and a tailors. Inès said something that Harry was pretty sure meant "We should get some pastries"
Which was another thing Harry liked; At Hogwarts you might get pies, or the occasional sausage roll, and at feasts, pumpkin pasties, and Hogsmeade had similar things, but at Beauxbatons the cooks evidently thought croissants – piping hot from the oven, and a thing they called pain-au-chocolate, but Harry mentally categorised as 'bloody delicious chocolate pastry', and which according to an amused Hermione, was considered a staple in France, like a cup of coffee.
Looking forward to something delicious, and not just the possibility of kissing Inès if the date went decently, Harry allowed himself to be led off towards a pâtisserie. There was a queue.
Harry stood around and tried his French on an amused Inès.
"So, what are we going to get?" asked Harry.
"We'll see what's there, what's good" said Inès. Harry relaxed and enjoyed a warm day.
"POTTER!" shouted a familiar female voice. Harry's bits shrank reflexively.
Harry looked across the formerly peaceful square, and parting the leisurely French students like a ship parting the waves, swaggered Daphne Greengrass, in a snappily tailored little blue pinstripe dress headed towards Harry. She was holding a scroll like a … like a weapon.
"Oh Harry ,is this a friend of yours?" asked Inès in English. She had a frankly sexy French accent… Harry had already daydreamed about what hearing something sexy in that accent might sound like.
"Um, not exactly." said Harry, drawing his wand. Inès had already cast a duelling shield of some kind.
"Miss?" asked Daphne Greengrass to Inès.
"Auclair" said Inès, "Inès Auclair. And you are?"
"Daphne Greengrass" said Daphne "Unhand my fiancée."
"We're not engaged" said Harry.
Greengrass waved the scroll in her hand "A marriage contract" she said "From your steward, Potter-Black."
Inès gave Harry a massively over-acted sideways glance. It was like being shot with a crossbow dipped in ylang-ylang extract.
Harry held left his hand out, and Greengrass thwapped the contract into his hand. Harry undid the ribbon and unrolled it. It was… not a marriage contract. But a court order, ordering the Greengrasses to provide a housekeeper to Harry as reparations for his traumatisation.
"This is a court order to provide a housekeeper, not a marriage contract" said Harry.
Greengrass lifted her nose and looked down it at him. It was a good look on her- she seemed taller somehow. He glanced down at the ground; Greengrass was wearing heels; and the hemline only came to her knees. For a witch attending Hogwarts, that was both socially and climatically daring. She had, noted an annoying bit of Harry's brain, attractive calves and ankles.
"The contract provides a housekeeper" said Harry "Not a wife. Somewhat dramatic?"
"You bunked off to France, you… Jerk!" said Greengrass.
"Who is this?" asked Inès.
"Greengrass is a witch from school in England, who hospitalised me repeatedly. She has a temper problem."
"Coming from you, Dark Lord Potter that's a bit rich!" snapped Greengrass.
"'arry, is there something you need to tell me about your political aspirations?" asked Inès, eyebrows up.
"I don't have political aspirations" said Harry, and he cast a shield and made a coo-coo gesture with his left index finger.
"Gendarmes!" cried Inès.
Harry didn't quite understand how Greengrass escalated from a little loud talking to hexes, but she fired what was clearly a bone-breaker at Inès, whose shield deflected it.
"Oh it is so on, fat-arse!" said Inès, dropping her shield to fire a hair-strangling curse at Greengrass.
Greengrass ducked the curse, but tottered on her heels, and Inès got a second curse off, by the colour, either a unforgivable or that obscure Basque tongue-locker that required either wordless magic or a Basque incantation to reverse. Harry backed carefully away from the fight, keeping his back to the shop-fronts, his shield ready to deflect stray spells, or something fired by Greengrass.
Greengrass dived backwards to avoid the lime-green spell, and landed on her bottom with a wince. Being grounded, and Harry assumed, immobile, the duel should be over soon.
Greengrass cast a shield and pointed her wand upwards and behind, dropped her shield and shot off into the air. Using, Harry realised, a silent seize-and-pull charm. That must have anchored on the lamp-post or building up the street behind her, as she made it fifteen feet into the air, and suddenly pointed her wand at the ground, falling softly to the cobbles, landing preternaturally easily in her heels. Harry suspected a motion arresting spell. He felt slightly impressed; Greengrass had never used movement in her torturing of Harry in the past, but clearly had decent tutors, and could move in three dimensions when the opportunity presented itself.
Inès took this opportunity to summon some fruit carts, standing behind them, and then firing off what had to be a bone-breaker of her own at Greengrass.
Greengrass dodged right with a dance-like lunge that tore her skirt, but saw the big fat bone-breaker whizz past. Harry noted that Greengrass now had an opportunity, if her aim was good to riposte. Greegnrass fired off a succession of small curses, bracketing Inès, and Harry wondered what her game was.
When a nasty black smokey arrow lumbered towards Harry from Greengrass he realised her game, lowered his elbow and lifted his wrist a little to improve the angle and braced his wrist with his other hand.
Greengrass's demolition charm hit Harry's shield painfully, and was deflected upwards harmlessly. Harry shook out his wrist, and took a moment to consider that if she'd hit him with one of those at school, Snape would have been washing him off the walls. Harry looked over at Inès, Greengrass had fired off lots of small hexes, knocking woodchips off the fruit carts, smashed fruit and specks of soot in Inès's hair. But Inès had been firing back, not needing to shield and had kept Greengrass jumping about; her heels discarded. Inès fired off spells that looked mostly at the bone-breaker level, and Greengrass was jumping about avoiding bone-breakers, and started firing more piercing hexes, that splatted the fruit off the carts, and knocked out chinks from the wooden shelves.
Greengrass's skirt ripped up to the waistband from dodging and jumping and Harry was deeply surprised at not seeing knickers – and his pants got uncomfortable at the sight of a thigh in a stocking and a bare white hip. Inès's clothes had survived intact; but her hair had divots cursed out of it and she was covered in multicoloured splatters of fruit.
A pair of blue-uniformed wizards arrived wearing blue box-like caps, and one started casting suppression spells, while the other cast an intimidatingly powerful shield. The Gendarmes, Harry assumed, advanced on the duelling witches, getting closer till the one that had cast the suppression spell fired off a couple of overpowered body-binds, and dropped Greengrass on the cobbles, and Inès fell forward, leaning on a badly damage fruit cart.
"What's going on here?" asked the first Gendarme.
Harry walked over, putting his wand away, and felt that he might volunteer some information, but his French was apparently not up to explaining to an irascible French auror whose badge said 'Nettoyeur'
The gendarmes levitated Greengrass and Inès to their station, and Harry tried to explain, and wished he had some ID. The outer door to the office jingled, and Harry looked over to see a white-faced Hermione Granger limping in.
"Hermione!" said Harry hopefully "I'm trying to explain about the fight Inès and Greengrass had. My French isn't good enough, I think."
"Hubert!" said Hermione, and one of the Gendarmes with a pencil moustache ducked his head. "Harry' really tried. You could have taken pity on him." added Hermione.
"He's English, and he brought trouble to Pont-le-Bâton. He looked really funny trying to speak francais" said Hubert, in English. Harry started to contemplate sneaking out of Beauxbatons later to curse a Gendarme.
"Oh this is nothing" said Hermione dismissively "Harry spent years fighting off Voldemort and his minions. Nobody's even dead this time." she added.
"Pretty boy?" asked Hubert.
"Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and the man that finally defeated Voldemort." said Hermione "A few months back, right Harry?"
"Um" said Harry "That's supposed to stay a secret."
"Harry's spent years being tutored by the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus-I-defeated-Grindelwald-Dumbledore" said Hermione "He's got a rather casual attitude to student safety, I'm proof."
"You didn't stop these two fighting" said Hubert "They fighting over your hand?"
"God no" exclaimed Harry, handing over the court order "Greengrass spent years hexing my … bits. She's had a massive temper problem for years."
Hubert read the court order.
"Zis order zhust forces some… Green Grasses to provide a housekeeper for a Harry James Potter- that's you I suppose." said Hubert; Hubert's partner cast a cleaning charm on Inès, and a repair charm on Greengrass's skirt, to Harry dismay, and the pinstripes closed over her thigh and stocking-top.
"Harry!" said Hermione judgementally "Don't ogle her leg. She was duelling, and her seams gave up. It's hardly a practical dress for fighting in."
"Accio Daphne Greengrass's heels" cast Harry, and a moment later, her black high heels bashed the door open and landed near Harry. He flicked his wand, and they landed over at Daphne's feet.
"Stupid shoes" said Hermione.
Five minutes later Hermione had translated the technical bits, and Hubert had made notes while Leon had put the two witches in separate cells out the back, and gone back there to interview Inès.
The magistrate deported Greengrass, and before the portkey tugged her off to Britain, she hissed at Harry "You bastard! I need to travel for family business and now I've been deported from France. I blame you!"
Inès declined to talk to Harry afterwards. Still, plenty of fish in the sea. And it wasn't Inès's or Harry's fault. Harry explained loudly into the common room the next night that "Since the witch was deported she cannot enter France again. So she won't attack me or anyone on a date in Pont-le-Bâton."
There were some amused looks from the other boys.
Hermione patted Harry on the back "Better luck next time Harry." she said.