Hey there, everyone! Mystery Critic here back at you with another chapter of your favorite Harry and Fleur romance story! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and this one as well, and don't worry, there are a lot more cliffhangers to come! Well, I know I said every two weeks update minimum, but this chapter is to make up for not posting in a year, so I guess you could say this a little bit of extra content. I hope you all enjoy it! Now, I know I have kept trying to fix the spacing issue with ff, but hopefully, this will clear that little issue up. At least, I hope it will… As for the disclaimer, I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the rights affiliated with it. Now that the disclaimer is out of the way, I want to dedicate this chapter to my number one fan, you know who you are. What we discussed could happen in this chapter, or maybe it won't. You'll just have to see. Hehehehe... Anywho, grab your butterbeer and your chocolate frogs, sit back, and enjoy chapter eight!
Chapter 8
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asks, turning around to see the last person he expected to see. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" He asks, rushing up to him to place his hand on Harry's shoulder. "What are you doing here? We have to get you back to the Dursley's! You're not safe out here in the open right now!"
"I'm not going back to those monsters, Professor!" Harry snaps, venom in his voice and ice in his veins, Dumbledore paling at the emerald glow in his eyes. "They can never hurt me again, and I'm never going back. I'd rather die."
"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore begins, a grandfatherly smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm quite certain you're exaggerating. Now, come along. Let's get you back home.
"May I ask what you're doing wiz 'Arry, monsieur Dumbledore?" Jacques asks, walking up to the pair.
"I'm sorry, Jacques, my boy," Dumbledore says, turning Harry away from Jacques. "I'm afraid this doesn't concern you. I am young Harry's magical guardian, and I am simply returning him to his dwelling."
"I said I'm not going back, you barmy old goat fucker!" Harry yells, glaring at Dumbledore. "Are you going deaf in your old age?!"
"Harry, please watch your language." Dumbledore chides.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Monsieur Dumbledore." Jacques says icilly, pulling out his wand and waving it, separating Harry from the old man. "You must 'ave not gotten ze memo, but your magical guardianship was removed due to negligence and failure to provide safe 'ousing for zis young man. As of right now, I am the magical guardian for young 'Arry, 'ere."
"Surely you are mistaken, Jacques," Dumbledore says nervously, stepping forward.
"I am not mistaken, Dumbledore, and if you take anozzer step towards my young ward, I will have you placed under arrest for trying to meddle in the affairs of a foreign diplomat." Jacques impresses, raising his wand towards Dumbledore. "Young 'Arry is under my care and will remain so until my government 'as deemed ozzerwise. As a member of ze British government, your actions 'ave been despicable, and ze French government was more zan welcome to give citizenship to zis wonderful young man. So, I am going to ask you to back away from my ward, and leave us to our shopping."
Dumbledore is struck speechless, his face marred with concern and confusion. As he steps back a few paces, he begins to turn to disapparate.
"Oh, and Dumbledore?" Jacques says, narrowing his eyes at the old man. "You do not 'ave my permission to address me so formally. Please refer to my proper title. We are not so close as you may zink."With a nod, Dumbledore turns on the spot and disapparates away. Turning back to Harry with a smile, Jacques ushered him on towards Gringott's. "I zink zat you should try and find out about your possible Lordships, 'Arry. With Dumbledore finding out about zis, 'e will no doubt try and do something to get guardianship back."
"Thank you, Jacques," Harry says, walking towards Gringott's with Jacques. "I really appreciate you doing that."
"It is I 'ho must zank you, 'Arry," Jacques says, clapping him gently on his back with a smile. "I 'ave never heard a most wonderful name for zat meddling old fool. Barmy old goat fucker. I will 'ave to show that memory to ze people down at the office. Zey will get quite ze laugh out of it."
Chuckling along with Jacques, the two men walk up the steps of Gringotts bank, opening the door and stepping in.
-Fleur-
Reapparating into the Headmaster's Office, Albus strides with determination to the fireplace of his office. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder and a quick mutter Ministry of Magic, he stepps into the blazing emerald flames and exits into the main entrance hall of the Ministry, a regal yet determined step bringing him down the hallway to the elevators. Stepping into one, he turns to the man by the controls and speaks softly.
"Level Two, if you would, please." He says, turning his attention back to the grate before reaching up and grabbing the hanging handhold as the lift lurched back. After a moment of travel, the elevator stops and opens.
"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services" A female voice projects from the lift. "Please present your wand at the desk for identity confirmation, and have a nice day."
Dumbledore steps out and walks down the short hallway to the desk, where a woman reading a magazine speaks in a bored tone without looking up.
"Wand, please."
"I hardly think that will be necessary, my dear," Dumbledore says in his grandfatherly voice, a small smile upon his lips. The woman looks up from her magazine and her eyes widen.
"Professor Dumbledore!" She says with a look of disbelief. "I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know it was you."
"Not a problem, my dear." He says, waving his hand dismissively. "I do, however, need to see Amelia."
"I can call to see if you can see her, but I can't do it without having registered your wand, sir." She said, looking up at him in embarrassment. "It's the rules, and if you don't present your wand, I could lose my job."
"I understand, my dear." He says, pulling the Elder Wand and holding it out to her. Taking the wand carefully, she places it gingerly on the scale for a few moments, a piece of paper appearing before her.
"Elderwood and a thestral hair core, been in use for forty-five years." She says, reading off the paper. "Is that correct, Professor?"
"Quite correct, my dear." He says, smiling wider before holding his hand out. She places the wand back in his hand and he rolls it gingerly between his fingers before slipping it back into his robes. "Thank you, dear. I'll be sure to commend you on your incredible job to Amelia."
"Thank you, sir!" She says, beaming up at him. "I really appreciate that, Professor Dumbledore. I'll go see if Amelia can see you now."
"Thank you, Miss Ellen." A smile crosses her face at being remembered and rushes off. A few moments later, she comes rushing back, sitting back down at the desk and huffing heavily. "Take a moment, my dear. Catch your breath."
Nodding at him in thanks, she waits a few moments to be able to breathe easily before looking back up at him and speaking;"She said you could see her in five minutes, she has some paperwork to finish before lunch, but you need to make it quick. She has business to attend to afterward."
"I suppose I could take five minutes to catch up with such a gifted Transfiguration student." He says with a smile, pretending to ponder it. "How is your dear mother?"
"She's great, sir!" Miss Ellen responds, beaming up at the headmaster again. "She's the assistant head of this office. She was one of the ones who helped me get this job."
"That's wonderful to hear, my dear." He says, annoyance eating him up at being made to wait. He was Albus Dumbledore, after all! The Leader of the Light, Greatest Wizard since Merlin! He should be seen when he appears. Noticing she was waiting for him to respond to something, he looks back down her. "I'm sorry, dear girl. Could you repeat that? My mind wanders from time to time. One of the downsides to old age, I'm afraid."
"Of course, sir." She says, gesturing behind her. "I said you can go in now."
"Thank you, my dear," He says, walking past her with a nod. Walking down past the desks, he strides up to the door of an office with a gold plaque adorning the aged wood that reads "Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement" in bold black lettering. Knocking upon the door, he hears his entrance being granted and walks in. "Amelia, my dear woman! How are you?"
"I'm quite well, Albus," She says, a professional smile adorning her features, giving a nod causing her short, cropped grey hair to bob as she stares at him, her dull brown eyes piercing his own blue through the monocle. "How are you?"
"I am well. I must commend young Miss Ellen on her determination to making sure her job is done properly. She would not even come to speak to you until I presented my wand. She did a wonderful job and it's good to see students doing well after school. However, I am afraid I am not here for a social call." He says, sitting down at her motion after transfiguring the chair into a plush recliner with a wave of his wand. "Why was I not informed of having my magical guardianship of Harry Potter revoked?"
"A memo was sent out to you, and our readings show that it was delivered. After that, whether or not you read it is up to you." She responds with a noncommital shrug.
"Where, may I ask, was it delivered to?" He asks carefully.
"To your office at Hogwarts, of course." She says, crossing her fingers in front of her mouth. "Did you not see it?"
"I must have missed it, I'm afraid," He lies, leaning back in the chair and placing one knee on top of the other, crossing his hands on top of them. He had, of course, read the letter, simply dismissing it as something impossible. "Let me ask another question, then. Why was my magical guardianship revoked?"
"Failure to perform your duties," Amelia answers simply as if it was obvious. "Placing him in an abusive home, failure to check up on him monthly, to name a few."
"I had a trusted friend check up on him monthly, Amelia." He says, huffing up in a small bit of aggravation. "He said the boy was in splendid health, albeit a tad bit peckish, but quite fine, nevertheless."
"Who might this trusted friend be?" She asks, staring him down, clearly upset with the treatment of Magical Britain's savior.
"I am not at liberty to divulge his identity, Amelia." He says. "He is still a trusted friend, and would not lie about Harry."
"I see." She says, pretending to contemplate his word. After a moment, she pulls a small scroll out of her desk and places it in front of him, waving her hand to make the seal disappear. "This is the complete list of reasons why guardianship was removed."
"Thank you, Amelia," Dumbledore says, opening the scroll and reading down the scroll, before stopping as his eyes nearly pop out of his head and stood up in rage. "Embellishment of funds?! What is this rubbish? I never stole from the young man!"
"Gringott's says otherwise." She responds calmly, looking up at him. "You can take that up with them, but it is because of your positions and political power that you are not currently sitting in a Ministry holding cell pending a trial."
"I will be back, Amelia," Dumbledore promises, turning on the spot and walking towards the door.
"Albus," Amelia calls, halting him. "Please transfigure my chair back to how it was."
Waving his wand, the chair returns to its previous state as Albus stomps out of the office with a huff.
-Fleur-
Walking up to the towering desk, Harry looks up and speaks respectfully.
"Excuse me, Sir Goblin," Harry says in a clear and confident voice. "I wish to speak to someone about inheritance, Lordships, and the such, if you would please."
Looking over the desk down at the young wizard, the goblin takes in the appearance of the young man looking at him with a sincere smile and the appearance of someone speaking respectfully to another.
"May I ask who you are, young wizard?"
"Of course, sir." He says, bowing slightly, but enough that every goblin eye in the room catches the movement. A wizard bowing to a goblin! It was unheard of to be shown such respect by a wizard. "My name is Harry James Potter. I was recently informed that since I turned fourteen, I could take up the mantle of Head of House Potter."
"While most houses require the wizard or witch to be of age, some Ancient and Noble houses allow Lordship at fourteen if there are no other viable heads alive. House Potter is one such house. I shall summon a goblin to take you to the Potter account manager immediately."
"Thank you, sir," Harry says, bowing lower and much more defined as the goblin pressed down on a rune. "May your coffers never empty and your blade stay always sharp."
At this point, every goblin iss staring wide-eyed in disbelief at the young wizard. He knew Goblin etiquette, too?! Who was this wizard? A goblin walks in, looking in disdain at the pair of wizards in front of him.
"Griphook!" Harry exclaims happily, bowing low with respect for the goblin in front of him. "How wonderful it is to see you again!"
Gold dropps around the room and goblins fall out of their chairs in a dead faint at the image of a wizard remembering a goblin by name. Griphook stares in shock at the boy in front of him.
"You remember me, Mr. Potter?" He asks in complete incredulity.
"Of course!" He exclaims, a wide smile on his face. "How could I forget the first goblin who showed me to my vault in this illustrious bank?"
A sharp-toothed grin on Griphook's face, he crosses his fist over his chest and held his other hand out to Harry. Harry's eyes widen at the offer of respect in front of him. Crossing his own fist over his chest, Harry reaches forward and grabs Griphook's forearms as the shell-shocked goblin does the same. A warrior's sign of respect has the room in dead silence before more thuds sound out in the room as almost every goblin falls to the floor. No wizard since Merlin had received this symbol of respect from a goblin, and Harry knew it.
"Come with me, Mister Potter," Griphook says again, flashing a toothy grin at the wizard. "Let's bring you to your account manager, shall we?"
Nodding with a bright smile, Harry follows Griphook, looking back to see Jacques staying where he is with a thumbs up. Harry walks behind the goblin as he leads him down a series of hallways to a door.
"Here you go, Mister Potter," Griphook says, gesturing to the door. "Master Sharpblade is inside, and he has been notified of your arrival."
"Thank you, Griphook," Harry says, bowing once more. "May your blade never dull."
"May your battlefield be stained scarlet with the lifeblood of your enemies." With a bow back, Griphook leaves and Harry turns back to the door. Knocking on it, Harry waits patiently for an answer.
"Enter!" Harry hears a gruff voice calling out from inside. Walking in, Harry sees a goblin with scars marring his body. "Sit, Mister Potter. Don't worry. I only bite those who would threaten me."
"Thank you, Master Sharpblade." Sitting down, Harry looks up at the goblin with a smile, receiving one in return. Looking around the room, Harry notices it's different from the white and brown marble hallways he's seen throughout Gringott's. The room seems to be a decent-sized cavernous area, the walls made of jagged black rock. Hearing the goblin speak, he turns his attention back to his account manager.
"Tea, Mister Potter? Water?" He offers, waving his hand as a platter of drinks appeared in front of Harry.
"I'd love some tea, as long as you pour yourself a cup first, Master Sharpblade," Harry says with a smirk, only to receive a booming laugh from the goblin.
"I like you, youngling!" Sharpblade says, slapping his desk in throes of laughter. "You remind me of myself when I was a young. You know what you want, but you're still respectful, even when you're a little spitfire! How can I help you?"
"Well, I was told since I was fourteen, I could take up the mantle of Lord Potter," Harry says.
"I was wondering when I'd see you!" He says, pulling out a dagger. Harry stiffens slightly, not going unnoticed by the old goblin. A deathly silence permeates through the room as the goblin's eyes scan over Harry. "You've survived battle your whole life, haven't you?"
"How..." Harry begins, only to have Sharpblade hold up a hand to silence his questions.
"How is not important." He explains, looking over at Harry. "What is important is that you need to learn to wear those scars with pride. You've gone through a life of abuse and torture, but you came out on top. That's what's important. You survived! Display them with pride, not with shame. Otherwise, what's the point in surviving at all if you're not proud of doing so?"
"I'm ashamed because I was weak, Master Sharpblade..." Harry says softly, looking away.
"Then take that and get stronger!" Sharpblade snaps, his eyes ablaze with determination to see Harry see the light. "Use that pain, that shame, use it and become so strong that no one can make you feel weak again! Build up your magic, your body, your mind! Build it up so strong that no one can ever defeat you again! You take that strength and you shove it up everyone's ass! Those who abused you, that self-proclaimed Lord Twatface, everyone whoever stands in your way! Use it and strike down all in your path who would deter you! You take that power and prove to not everyone else, but prove to yourself that you will never be weak again!"
The room was silent for a moment before Harry looks back up at Sharpblade, a smile of determination on his face.
"I will never be weak again!" Harry declares, reaching up and tearing the sleeves off of his sweater, displaying the scars on his arms proudly.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Sharpblade says, standing up and slapping Harry across the back. "I'm proud of you, youngling. Now, what say we get to what you came here for, eh?"
"Yes, let's do just that," Harry says, crossing his arm over his chest before offering his hand out to the goblin in front of him. Repeating the action, the two share a look of understanding between their eyes before returning to their seats. "Thank you, Master Sharpblade."
"Think nothing of it," He says, waving a clawed hand dismissively. "Anything I can do to help a fellow warrior let go of the past. Also, call me Sharpblade. This whole 'Master' thing makes me feel old."
"You, old? Never!" Harry says in mock disbelief, smirking at Shaprblade.
"Cheeky little thing, ain't ya?" Sharpblade chuckles, eyeing Harry who simply shrugs, his smirk turning into a smile as he thought to himself. 'Your father would be proud, youngling.'
"Let's do this, Sharpblade," Harry says, holding his hand out palm up. Nodding with a smile, Sharpblade slashes the dagger quickly over Harry's hand before dropping the few drops of blood onto the blank scroll in front of him. As his eyes scan over the scroll, the goblin's grin slowly turned into a predatory smile. "What is it, Sharpblade?"
"I think you'll make quite the impact on our world, Lord Potter." He answers, holding the scroll out in front of Harry. Taking it from Sharpblade, he reads down to the end quickly, his eyes bugging out of his skull before looking up at the goblin.
"Bloody fucking hell!" Harry yells, the laugh of the goblin heard throughout the halls of Gringott's.
Another cliffhanger! MWAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! The master of the cliffhangers has still got it! Anywho, I know this is my longest chapter yet, and this is going to be the average length of the chapters from here on out, so I hope you'll all enjoy the story. I know this chapter was kinda filler-y, so I hope no one gets bored reading the chapters from here on out. As for my number one fan, I told you it was only a maybe in this chapter. Who knows, MAYBE it'll come along in the next chapter. As usual, please read, review, and spread it like wildfire. This is Mystery Critic, signing off!