Chapter 2 – The Marriage Contract

The blunt declaration caused the courtroom to descend into stunned silence.

Whether the rest of the courtroom was simply surprised, shocked into silence by the brashness of the declaration, or aghast at the possibility of seeing their "national hero" (a title which still had the power to cause Harry to shake his head in disbelief, given the shots he had absorbed from those same people) betrothed to a foreign witch, it was impossible to say. Although he certainly caught the expressions of the rest of the room, Harry was, understandably, concerned with his own questions.

How could this have happened? What did this stranger mean by claiming a marriage contract to some witch he had never met? Were such archaic traditions still followed in the magical world?

To this last question, Harry was forced to admit, somewhat ruefully, that the possibility for such antiquated traditions were not only possible, but given the things he had seen and experienced since he had discovered the magical world, he was not surprised to learn they still existed.

Harry Potter had never given much thought to his future and—other than a few idle hours, wiled away in which he had indulged himself in the contemplation of the various females of his acquaintance—had certainly never given serious consideration to the question of who would ultimately become Mrs. Potter. The thought of marriage not only had never really occurred to him, but it was also something which consciously or not, he had considered unappealing early in his life, no doubt largely due to the only example he had ever witnessed: the married life of his aunt and uncle. They had always, in his memory, been largely argumentative, and he could never remember any instances of spousal felicity or shows of affection. In fact, other than their shared propensity toward making him feel worthless and consigning him to a miserable existence, they had never actually shown any common goals or interests, making him wonder why they had married in the first place.

His only other example was slightly better in execution, as the Weasley parents were at least friendly with each other and focused on their family and the importance of that family in their lives. It was a different portrait to be certain, but hardly a more reassuring one to Harry's mind—after all, although they were certainly more harmonious than his aunt and uncle, it was also obvious who was in charge of the relationship. Harry hesitated at labeling Mrs. Weasley as loud and overbearing—she had been remarkably kind toward him in the time he had known her—but he knew she was a strong-willed woman, used to getting her own way, whereas her husband was generally content to coast along, allowing her to put herself forward, while he allowed himself to slip into more of a support role. Harry was very fond of the Weasleys—he was simply not excited about emulating their relationship.

So with Harry's examples of marital felicity, it was hardly to be wondered that young Harry was not enamored of the thought of marriage but had also—perhaps subconsciously—wondered if finding a wife was even worth it at all.

And now he was all but engaged to be married, without his consent… and to some witch he had never met. And furthermore, he did not even know her name! How was he supposed to feel when confronted with such a situation? Was there any way out of it? Was this man another fortune seeker, bent on a connection with the infamous Boy-Who-Lived? Or was he playing some other game?

Then again, this stranger must have some reason for not only agreeing to enact such a scheme (with Sirius's help no less!) but also accepting this marriage contract, given Harry's well-documented troubles with the aforementioned insane and powerful wizard. A fortune seeker would have to be unbalanced to consider an alliance in the face of such danger.

Harry did not know what to think.

Just as the inevitable pandemonium began, Harry noticed the stranger peering at him with a kindly expression on his face; the action worked to reassure Harry somewhat that—whatever the man's reasoning was for this interference—his reasons for revealing this marriage contract were not intended to be detrimental to Harry's future. Given all that was going on in his life, the thought was comforting. Then again, appearances could be deceiving.

"Is anything wrong, Harry?" the man asked in a quiet voice, ignoring the rising noise around them.

"Marriage contract?" Harry managed to squeak out.

Jean-Sebastian shrugged. "Not exactly common any longer, but certainly not out of the ordinary either. Surely you had some indication such a thing was possible."

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said with a shake of his head, "I didn't know. I've been raised by Muggles, and sometimes I'm still surprised by some of the old-fashioned things in the wizarding world…"

Frowning at Harry's comment, Jean-Sebastian stared at him in deep contemplation, causing Harry to become self-conscious. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, the nervous energy escaping despite his best efforts to keep it controlled.

"It's all right, Harry," Jean-Sebastian responded, his tone soothing and a smile once more on his face. "I was not aware of your lack of knowledge. We will have to work on your education once we are away from this place."

"Is there any way out of it?" Harry blurted, realizing immediately it was the wrong thing to say when a dark expression came over Jean-Sebastian's face.

"I'm sorry," Harry said somewhat nervously, not wanting to offend his benefactor. "This is just all so… new to me. I mean… I've never thought…"

"I don't even know your daughter," he finished, somewhat lamely, after a short pause.

Jean-Sebastian chuckled quietly, his amusement immediately replacing his momentary displeasure. "Do not worry; I am not offended. I can see we have much to discuss, my young friend, and you have much to learn."

At Harry's nod of agreement, Jean-Sebastian reached out and grasped his shoulder, squeezing it slightly in a comforting gesture. "As for not knowing my daughter, I assure you, she is not unknown to you."

Harry regarded him uncertainly, wondering who he could possibly mean.

"My apologies, young Mr. Potter; allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jean-Sebastian Delacour, French Ambassador to the International Confederation of Wizards. This marriage contract engages you to my daughter, Fleur, with whom I believe you are acquainted through the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year at Hogwarts."

"ORDER!"

At that moment they were interrupted by Minister Fudge, who was banging his gavel on the desk in front of him, yelling for the Wizengamot to come to order. But Harry, shocked as he was by the suddenly revealed identity of his mysterious benefactor and his newly betrothed, heard none of it.

Fleur Delacour? Is that who I'm engaged to?

Thoughts whirled around in his head, flitting from images of a beautiful young woman entering the great hall of Hogwarts for the first time and drawing the eyes of every young man (and many not so young) to a bedraggled Fleur freshly emerged from the cold of the lake, hugging him tightly in thanks for rescuing her sister. That was who he was now tied to by this contract?

Unable to wrap his head around the thought, Harry forced himself to calm and think about the situation rationally. He considered his almost nonexistent acquaintance with the young French Veela. He had thought about asking Fleur to the Yule Ball the previous year during the tournament, but who had not? Daydreams of appearing at the event on the arm of the most beautiful young girl any of them had ever seen had filled the fantasies of most of the boys at his school. But whereas Ron had forgotten she was far above any of them, Harry had confined his thoughts to the realm of fantasy, never allowing himself to consider that she might actually say yes.

Still… now that he thought about it, although he still considered her far above him in terms of beauty and desirability, the example of Ron was certainly not one which fit the situation. After all, as the story went, Ron had blurted his request in the middle of a crowded room and then run off in fear—to the best of Harry's knowledge, she had never actually made a response. It was possible, however unlikely, that she might have accepted Ron's proposal. After all, he had no knowledge of when Roger Davies had actually asked her to the ball, but if her expression during the event had been any indication, his continual fawning on her had likely been aggravating… and certainly not much worse than she would have experienced with Ron.

Which brought another thought to his consciousness—did he have any real indication that she actually thought herself above those around her? She had been somewhat cold and distant when she had first appeared at the school, and she had acted snooty when he had appeared in the anteroom after the goblet incident, but that was all he had to base his thoughts of her arrogance upon. After all, people at his school thought him to be a spoiled pampered prince, glory seeker, and (since the incident in the graveyard) a delusional liar, something he liked to think was not true, although certain events in his past had led him to question his own sanity on occasion. Was her situation any different from his? Perhaps the popular perception of Miss Delacour was not the reality. He would have to actually speak to her himself and get to know her before making any judgments, something which, he admitted to himself, he had not done in the past.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Harry made an effort to concentrate more on what was occurring around him.

"You really have no choice, Minister," Jean-Sebastian was saying, glaring at the Minister through narrowed eyes. "International law in this instance is very clear—since both Mr. Potter's guardian and I have agreed on the execution of the marriage contract, it is in force, regardless of the wishes of the British Ministry."

An incoherent sputtering issued from Fudge's mouth, causing Jean-Sebastian to shake his head in response and Harry to wonder at the man who had managed to render the loquacious Minister speechless.

"But you can't…" Fudge finally got out through his rage and indignation. "We can't have one of our most famous citizens married to a… a… foreigner!"

"This same citizen you were prepared to lynch without bothering to learn the truth?"

Fudge could have nothing to say to that statement.

"And Minister, I will assume you have no other objections to my daughter's suitability as the wife to Mr. Potter."

This last was said with a hard core of steel evident in Jean-Sebastian's voice, and although Harry did not quite understand the reference, it was not lost on Fudge or the rest of the Wizengamot. There were more than a few scowls, thoughtful looks, and nods of approval from the assembled, giving Harry no further clue as to what was being discussed.

"As I said, regardless of the British Ministry's position on the subject, Mr. Potter is now legally and magically bound by contract, agreed to by our ancestors and enacted by myself and his guardian, to marry my daughter. I suggest you become used to that fact, as it will not change."

Fudge appeared as though he wished to make further objections, but Jean-Sebastian did not allow it, instead speaking right over the Minister's incoherent stammering. "In addition, as Harry is still underage, I will be assuming his guardianship until he either becomes of age, or his true guardian steps forward to resume his position."

"Again, this is non-negotiable and well within the bounds of the law," he continued when it looked like Fudge was about to object yet again. "Of course, if the English wizarding government is hell bent on expelling Mr. Potter from Hogwarts, I am certain a place can be found for him at Beauxbatons—after all, his betrothed still attends the premier French school, and I'm certain they would be happy to accept such a high profile addition to their student roster."

For a moment, Harry almost thought Fudge's eyes would pop out of their sockets as he stared at Jean-Sebastian. Although not especially versed in the art of politics, even Harry understood this reference—his arguments in shambles politically, Fudge had no choice but to back away from his stance. Further, if he was perceived as the reason a well-known and almost revered citizen was driven from Hogwarts, his political career would be ruined. Harry could almost see Fudge's political life flashing before his eyes, causing his lips to rise in sardonic amusement. Harry had certainly never considered politics to be an enjoyable or even interesting profession, but at that moment he had to admit that the thrill of shredding the enemy's arguments and causing him to retreat in disarray was strangely appealing.

"I assure you, ambassador, enrolling Mr. Potter in Beauxbatons will be unnecessary," an old, distinguished woman with steel gray hair and an absolutely enormous feathered hat spoke up from the lowest row of the Wizengamot. "Though the procedure of this hearing was unusual in the extreme, the intent of this body was merely to get to the bottom of the matter, regardless of what… others have led you to believe."

Jean-Sebastian nodded his head in response. "I expect nothing less, honored member."

"Minister," the woman continued, "I move that the letter of the law has been met in this instance and that the charges against Mr. Potter be dropped. Of course, if you wish it to avoid all appearance of favoritism, we can administer Veritaserum and call in the other witnesses."

"Or I can cast my Patronus for you, if you'd like," Harry muttered, coloring when he realized his sarcastic comment had been clearly heard by the majority of the Wizengamot, including the elderly lady. She favored him with a smile and rolled her eyes in Fudge's direction.

Fudge, though, was not amused and scowled at him, ignoring the chorus of laughter which met Harry's irreverent statement.

"Did you wish to take Mr. Potter up on his offer, Minister?" Dumbledore interjected. His eyes were twinkling madly at his student, and he was clearly enjoying Harry's outburst and his somewhat impudent manner.

Apparently deciding it was best ignore the jibe, Fudge stared down at Harry imperiously as though wishing the young man would say something further to injure his reputation. This time, Harry stayed silent, aware that his cheeky outburst had been forgiven once but would not be a second time.

At length, Fudge raised his chin in a snooty gesture. "Very well," he stated, in a haughty tone. "It appears as though the Wizengamot has decided and further debating on the issue is futile. We will recognize Madam Longbottom's motion and drop all charges against Mr. Harry Potter. You are free to go, young man, but I must stress in the most serious manner that the Statute of Secrecy is not to be taken lightly."

The tension he had felt since the incident was immediately released, and Harry slumped slightly in relief. He was not to be expelled and kicked out of the wizarding world! The thought of seeing his friends again and laughing about everything which had happened caused him to grin with delight. He smiled at the assembled Wizengamot and stated, none too coherently, that he understood and would avoid the use of magic unless absolutely necessary.

Jean-Sebastian, it appeared, was not so easily appeased, if the stern and disapproving expression on his face was any indication. Fudge had apparently noticed Jean-Sebastian's expression as well, and he glared down at the man with open hostility.

"If that is all—" he began, only to be cut off.

"As it turns out, there is something else," Jean-Sebastian rejoined, his voice flat and unfriendly. "It has not escaped my attention that my new ward has been vilified in not only in your national newspaper," the word was spat out with some disgust, "but also by members of this government, even at the highest levels."

What went unsaid was the fact that the Minister himself was the main driving force behind the things which had been said about Harry, but no one misunderstood the insinuation. Though Fudge's face darkened in response, he could hardly refute the charge, fact that it was.

"So what would you propose, ambassador?" he snarled. "Mr. Potter has been exonerated in an open session of this Wizengamot. Does he wish for the post of Minister to add to his portfolio? I doubt even that would be enough of a boost to his ego."

"Cornelius, this is exactly the attitude the ambassador is speaking of," Dumbledore interjected sternly.

"I must insist you cease these constant attacks on my ward—I will not have the British public told sensational stories and outright lies about him."

Fudge's eyes narrowed even further, and he glared at Jean-Sebastian.

"Do I have your agreement, Minister?"

"You do," Madam Longbottom interjected, fixing the recalcitrant Minister with a baleful glare. "Regardless of personal opinions or pending hearings, this government has a duty to protect all magicals, and the slandering of any citizen is not to be tolerated."

"I concur," Dumbledore confirmed. "There will be no further opinions regarding Mr. Potter, or any other citizen, issued by any member of this government. I give you my word that any such attacks will be dealt with."

Watching the Minister closely, Harry noticed the man himself said nothing, merely grunting in response to the strong statements which had been directed at him. Harry strongly suspected the Minister, as the top politician in the government, had never been hauled out on the carpet or spoken to in such a manner before. Or at least it had not happened since he had ascended to the Minister's office. It was equally obvious he was not appreciating the experience.

But Jean-Sebastian was not done. "That is acceptable, Madam Longbottom, Dumbledore," he said. "But it is the prior statements which now concern me. These must be rectified so Harry can continue with his life without further prejudice."

"And you wish to bring up the past again?" Fudge demanded. "Have we not given enough to Mr. Potter already?"

"No, you have not," Jean-Sebastian enunciated clearly. "With all that has been said about him, especially in the past few weeks, it is clear that the wizarding public of this country has had a slanderous image of Mr. Potter painted for them. This must be addressed—otherwise the mistaken perceptions of his character will persist. I insist on a public apology, to be published in the Daily Prophet in tomorrow's edition."

His lip curling once again in disgust, the Minister's eyes darted from Harry to Jean-Sebastian to Dumbledore and back to Harry again, clearly looking for some way out of his predicament. Unfortunately, no opportunity presented itself, and the reality of the situation was that he could not refuse without losing face even further than he already had.

With a curt nod, he spoke, although it was clear the words were like ashes on his tongue. "An apology will be printed in the Prophet tomorrow. In return, Mr. Potter must cease making public claims of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Harry has offered the use of Veritaserum, Minister," Dumbledore cut in. "Will you not take him up on his offer?"

"No!" Fudge stated vehemently. "I will not have the public panic and hysteria caused by such a story, as it is merely Mr. Potter's word and has not been confirmed. The use of Veritaserum does not rule out the possibility of hallucination or illusion: only that Mr. Potter believes what he says to be true."

He directed an insincere smile in Harry's direction, causing Harry to scowl in return. "After all, Mr. Potter had been through a challenging task moments before his experience—there is nothing to say that what he thought he saw was not influenced by his fatigue or some overt trickery on the part of supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, people intent on causing panic and destabilization. The events of the Quidditch World Cup have proved such people are still out there or that some other group wishes to make use of the fear they commanded during the war for their own purposes."

"The Ministry will investigate Mr. Potter's claims and respond accordingly," Fudge concluded. "There is no need to incite a public panic at this time."

Harry was unconvinced that Fudge would follow through with his pledge to investigate the matter—he struck Harry as the type of man who would ignore the unpleasant truth, hoping it would go away in time. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Dumbledore and Jean-Sebastian exchange a glance before their attention was returned to the Minister.

"That would be acceptable, Minister," Dumbledore confirmed. "As the head of the Wizengamot, please keep me apprised of the progress of your investigation. If, as Harry has stated, Voldemort has returned, we will need to act quickly to prepare for a conflict with his forces."

"Of course, Headmaster," the Minister said with another artificial smile. "You will be the first to know."

Privately, Jean-Sebastian held no doubt the Minister would attempt to sweep it all under the carpet and do nothing about Voldemort's return—he had been unwilling to even entertain the notion in the first place, and his sudden about-face was suspicious in the extreme. However, knowing only the Minister had the authority to launch a full investigation, Jean-Sebastian realized his own hands were tied at present. He was a foreigner, after all, and he could only do so much.

Still, there was one more matter which required attention, one which would provide Fudge another black eye. Or at least he hoped it would.

"Minister, if I could have the indulgence of the Wizengamot, there is one other matter which needs to be discussed today."

Fudge sighed and gazed down with exaggerated patience. "I think we have discussed the matter of Mr. Potter in great depth, ambassador. There is no need for further discourse. I assure you that everything which has been decided here today will be put into action at the earliest opportunity."

"Minister, what I have to say has nothing to do with Mr. Potter. It does, however, have a great deal of significance for everyone here today."

"I believe we need to let the ambassador speak, Minister," Dumbledore said. "The ambassador has discussed this with me previously, and this matter must inevitably come before the Wizengamot. It is better to discuss it now while we are all here."

Although silent for several moments, peering at Jean-Sebastian suspiciously, Fudge finally acquiesced. "If you must, then make it quick—do not waste the time of the Wizengamot."

Grinning with a feral intensity, Jean-Sebastian gave a slight, mocking bow. "Several months ago, I was contacted by Mr. Potter's guardian and made aware of his situation and the document which was used to ultimately conclude the engagement I have just spoken of. I was, I admit, absolutely astonished to be contacted by this person, but after taking the time to hear his story and verify it for myself, I understood his plight and agreed to assist him in any way possible to resolve his situation."

Augusta Longbottom was clearly becoming impatient. "Ambassador, will you please come to the point? You have mentioned Mr. Potter's guardian several times, but you have not mentioned his name. Who are you speaking of?"

"Mr. Potter's guardian is none other than Sirius Black."

The pandemonium which greeted Jean-Sebastian's statement was immediate and louder than his previous declarations had caused. Jean-Sebastian stood there and watched as witches and wizards yelled in disbelief, letting loose their outrage that he, a foreigner, had dared meet with one of their most hated and reviled criminals. They would soon find out just who the enemy was, Jean-Sebastian thought grimly.

With the assistance of Fudge's gavel, not to mention a concussion blast or two from the end of Dumbledore's wand, order was restored to the courtroom, although tempers were still high and threatened to flare at any moment.

Fudge gazed down at Jean-Sebastian with an unpleasant sneer—Jean-Sebastian was certain Fudge thought he had finally found something with which to attack his enemy. How little the Minister understood.

"How dare you cooperate with that murderer! Have you no decency at all? This man is a convicted killer, a mass murderer who was known to be after your charge when he escaped from Azkaban two years ago. Given your association with him, I wonder at the purpose of this alliance. Do you have some reason in conspiring with Black to gain control over the boy? And how can he even be considered to be Mr. Potter's guardian when he's a murderer?"

"Minister," Jean-Sebastian began, choosing his words very carefully to ensure he was understood, "Sirius Black is an escapee from Azkaban, but you and I both know he is not a convicted killer!"

"Of course he is," Fudge stammered. "He spent a dozen years in Azkaban for betraying Mr. Potter's parents to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and blowing up a street, killing Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles."

"I am well aware of the time Mr. Black spent in Azkaban, Minister, but you don't have to act innocent. We both know he was put there without a trial."

"And as for his being Harry's guardian," Dumbledore interjected, "it all has to do with the magic involved. Godparents are magically assigned—and as Sirius was never tried and convicted, the magic still recognizes him not only as Harry's godfather but also as his legal guardian. Nothing can change this until he is actually convicted of some wrongdoing—then the guardianship and position of godfather would pass to whomever the Potters designated next in their wills."

Glancing around the room, the prevailing mood was one of shock—contrary to what Jean-Sebastian had suspected, it appeared that most, if not all of the British Wizengamot was not involved in whatever conspiracy had landed Sirius in Azkaban without due process. Either that or they were all exceptional actors. It would be a black eye on the collective Wizengamot, depending how it turned out Sirius had been denied a trial, something of which Jean-Sebastian was as of yet uncertain. He had had trouble digging up any information at all on the incarceration of Sirius Black, even with Dumbledore's help.

"This is ridiculous!" the pink-clad woman spoke up, obviously offended by the statements being made. "Everyone knows that Black was found guilty and sentenced to life in Azkaban. Do you think we do not know the status of our own criminals?"

"That's precisely what I am saying, Madam Umbridge," Jean-Sebastian replied. "Mr. Black stated to me, under the influence of Veritaserum, that upon being stunned by Aurors after confronting Peter Pettigrew, he awoke to find himself in Azkaban and was never taken to trial. Since the questioning of the perpetrator of such a serious crime under Veritaserum is standard procedure, I can only speculate that the trial never took place, unless some jumped-up mock trial was convened in which Mr. Black was not even allowed to defend himself. In either case, we seem to have a serious miscarriage of justice on our hands."

"Chief Warlock, can you illuminate us on the history of Mr. Black and the ministry?"

"Unfortunately not," Dumbledore replied with aplomb. "I became Chief Warlock more than a year after the war ended and was not involved in the decision. We were told that Minister Bagnold had convened a special tribunal of Wizengamot leaders and had found Sirius guilty and incarcerated him in Azkaban."

Dumbledore began pacing the room, his arms clasped behind his back, a look of intense concentration engraved upon his face. "Although a tribunal is an unusual procedure, it is within the right of the Minister and Chief Warlock to agree to try a criminal in such a manner, especially if the trial is expected to be divisive, or if there is a risk of sensitive information being released to the public—the tribunal is thought to act on behalf of the Wizengamot in instances such as this. In Sirius's specific case, the Minister was concerned about the effect of a sensational trial of the betrayal of the Potters, who continue to be a very popular family, and with Harry's own burgeoning popularity due to the defeat of Voldemort, it was deemed necessary to conduct the trial as quickly and unobtrusively as possible."

"And you never thought to question this?" Jean-Sebastian demanded, infuriated that his new friend had spent over a decade in the worst hell on earth without even the legal semblance of a trial. "Where are the checks on abuse of this procedure?"

"The Wizengamot itself," Dumbledore responded. "You must understand that this is a course of action which is rarely invoked. If any member of the Wizengamot feels the decision rendered by the tribunal is incorrect, they can bring a motion to the body to have the case retried before the entire Wizengamot. In fact, any citizen may bring forward the same motion via a petition to the Wizengamot. The Wizengamot would then vote on whether to hear the case and whether to hear it in closed or open session."

"Headmaster," Fudge interrupted, his voice strained, "I hardly think we should be speaking of this in full Wizengamot session. We should adjourn the court and take this up in private. I guarantee the Ministry will support any recommendation with respect to the status of Sirius Black and his escape from Azkaban."

"On the contrary," Madam Bones spoke up, "I believe this is exactly what we need. Far too often, the doings of this body have been mired in secrecy, which has led to this situation, among others. Please continue, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore bowed his head and continued. "With respect to Sirius, at the end of the First Wizarding War, our world was weary from years of guerilla warfare with Voldemort and heartsick over the deaths of the Potters, who many had considered heroes. The outpouring of sympathy for Harry's plight was such that the explanation was accepted and not questioned. No one would put forward a motion to grant the man a trial when the evidence against him seemed airtight.

"Since Sirius's escape, I have searched for transcripts of the trial, affidavits signed by those involved, anything which would give an indication that the hearing actually took place. Regardless of the secrecy of the tribunal, records should still have been kept, records which would be sealed to all except the Minister, the Chief Warlock, and a few others in high and trustworthy positions. These records would provide information for future reference or evidence of a miscarriage of justice."

Dumbledore stopped and gazed around the room, fixing each member with his expressionless stare in turn. "No such records exist. As Chief Warlock, I have the authority to access any records pertaining to any Wizengamot actions, regardless of how they were conducted. As no sign of them can be found, I conclude that the trial never took place."

"This is all very interesting, but do you have a point in bringing this up?" Umbridge asked. "We all know Sirius Black was guilty of the crimes of which he was accused, and regardless of his trial or lack thereof, you have still communicated with a murderer on the run from the Ministry."

Jean-Sebastian smirked at the unpleasant woman. The expression on Fudge's face told him that the Minister knew exactly why they were now referring to Sirius Black, but his pink lackey clearly had no idea of what Harry's claims regarding Pettigrew were. Wizarding Britain was about to receive a very nasty shock.

"Harry, would you like to do the honors?"

His new ward appeared somewhat surprised at being spoken to, but he screwed up his courage admirably and spoke in a clear voice. "Sirius didn't betray my parents, it was Peter Pettigrew."

"Peter Pettigrew!" the woman shrieked. "He was murdered by Black along with those Muggles—his finger was the only part of his body the Aurors could find! Headmaster Dumbledore has confirmed that Black was your parents' secret keeper—why do you persist in defending your parents' murderer?"

"Because Sirius Black was not their secret keeper when they were betrayed," Harry responded. "Sirius convinced my parents to switch to Peter Pettigrew, feeling Peter was the least obvious choice. They hoped to throw Voldemort off the trail."

"And how do you know this?" a voice rang out from the upper sections of the chamber.

Harry glanced apprehensively at Dumbledore—the headmaster gave a shrug, which was accompanied by Jean-Sebastian's smile of encouragement.

"I met him in my third year," Harry stated, causing the Wizengamot to fall silent in amazement. "He unmasked Pettigrew as the Weasleys' pet rat, Scabbers, and he and I were almost kissed by Dementors put there to protect the school by the Ministry."

Fudge had the grace to appear somewhat embarrassed at Harry's testimony—the decision to place Dementors at Hogwarts and the trouble they had caused there, particularly for Harry, had been lambasted in the press for months after they had been ordered back to Azkaban.

"And what happened to Pettigrew?" another voice asked.

"He escaped that night before we could get him back to the castle," Harry responded, not wanting to get into the exact details of the events from that evening. "The next time I saw him was when he performed the ritual to return Voldemort at the end of June."

"Chief Warlock, did you know of the switch in secret keepers?" Jean-Sebastian asked. "I seem to remember you were heavily involved with prosecuting the war against Voldemort and that you had a hand in the Potters' defense."

"Unfortunately, I didn't know at the time," Dumbledore responded somewhat sadly. "James, Peter, and Sirius enacted the switch with the utmost in secrecy, telling no one else of what they had done. I learned nothing about it until after Sirius escaped from Azkaban."

"And if I had known," he continued after a moment's thought, "I would have counseled against it. I had known all four boys since their entrance into Hogwarts, and knew that Pettigrew was not quite made of the same stuff as the other three. Although I had no idea he was a traitor, I knew that should he be captured, Voldemort would learn of the Potters' location immediately—Peter was not the type to resist Voldemort's torture to protect his friends." Harry noted the flinches from around the room at the mention of Voldemort's name, but Dumbledore either did not notice, or ignored them. "I feared he would give up any information, do anything to avoid continued mistreatment at the hands of Voldemort, regardless of whether Voldemort knew he was the secret keeper. At the time, we were aware of a leak in our ranks, but we suspected the wrong friend—Remus Lupin was our primary suspect in part due to his status as a werewolf and the known association of a number of werewolf packs with the forces of Voldemort. I deeply regret our lack of vision in this matter."

With Dumbledore's statement, all noise in the Wizengamot chamber ceased, giving over to contemplation of what had been revealed. It appeared the British legislative body as a whole was not happy with the situation, but with the testimony they had just heard, they could not deny the need for a trial for Sirius.

With any luck, Jean-Sebastian reflected grimly, heads will roll over this—especially Fudge's. The fool was told of this over a year ago and denied all possibility of Sirius' innocence, doing nothing to ensure justice was done.

Glancing over at Harry, Jean-Sebastian saw a mixture of hope and longing in the young man's face. Knowing what he did of Harry's background with his relatives, Jean-Sebastian reached out and squeezed the young man's shoulder, reassuring him that all which could be done for his godfather would be done. It was time to drive the point home and leave this place—his time dealing with British politics and their Wizengamot had left a sour taste in Jean-Sebastian's mouth.

"Minister, you have the testimony of my charge that Sirius Black is alive and means no harm to him and that Peter Pettigrew is not only still alive, but also the real betrayer of James and Lily Potter and the murderer of those twelve Muggles. Harry, will you agree to be put under the influence of Veritaserum to confirm your statements?"

"Absolutely," came the resolute reply.

His eyes were still pinched with displeasure as he glared down at Harry, but for the moment, the British Minister made no response.

"Until such time as Mr. Black receives a proper trial for his actions, the French Ministry has made an offer of asylum to him. He will be treated for his time spent in Azkaban and has agreed to return to Britain to stand trial."

Ten minutes previous, such a statement would have set off a firestorm of indignation from the assembled members of the Wizengamot; however, the revelations about the true situation rendered the chamber silent—no one would risk their reputations, or the reputation of the body as a whole, by raising an objection to such a reasonable and lawful suggestion.

"In addition, although I will take up Mr. Potter's guardianship for now, once Mr. Black has been exonerated—and we are certain he will be—he will once again take over his rightful duty. Please keep me and the French Ministry informed of the time of his trial so we can return him to Britain."

"Ambassador," Dumbledore interjected from Jean-Sebastian's side, "I give you my word as Chief Warlock that Mr. Black will be given a trial."

When Jean-Sebastian bowed in response, Dumbledore continued. "Given what I suspect is the state of his health after his long incarceration and his time on the run, perhaps it would be better to delay the hearing until he is feeling somewhat recovered from his ordeal. Perhaps sometime in September would be prudent?"

"I will speak to our healers and have them provide an update of his condition."

"Thank you, ambassador." Dumbledore turned his gaze on the Minister. "Minister, since Sirius is now the guest of the French Ministry, it would be prudent to alert the Muggle authorities that he is no longer sought after. Please liaise with your counterpart in the Muggle government."

Although he appeared like he was trying to swallow a whole grapefruit, Fudge nodded his head curtly.

Dumbledore then gazed around the silent Wizengamot chamber. "I would also like to step from my role as Chief Warlock and state as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards that the ICW supports the actions of the French Ministry and the ambassador in the matter of Sirius Black's asylum in France and the marriage contract enacted between Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour. As the ambassador mentioned earlier, the ICW has voted overwhelmingly for support in these matters."

He paused to let the import of his statements sink in. "Now, if there are no further matters to discuss, perhaps we should adjourn these proceedings."

Appearing to wish nothing more than to remove himself from the site of his embarrassing defeat, Fudge acquiesced most ungraciously with a muttered agreement, coupled with a sharp rap from his gavel. In moments, he had gathered his belongings and stalked from the room, his faithful pink puppy hard on his heels.

As the assembled members began to file from the room, Jean-Sebastian turned to Harry and Dumbledore, shaking both of their hands firmly. The expression of surprise and embarrassment on young Harry's face was amusing, while slightly concerning to Jean-Sebastian. Harry, it appeared, badly needed a measure of confidence and care, something he was not receiving from his relatives. Jean-Sebastian's family, although the marriage contract had been a shock, had fully committed to providing that to the young man, an effort which Sirius would certainly join enthusiastically.

Sensing the young man had some questions for him, Jean-Sebastian turned to Dumbledore and thanked him for his support. "If I could have a few moments' indulgence, I believe Harry has some questions for me. I still need to speak with the Minister about one other piece of business—will you ensure he does not run off with his tail between his legs before I can meet him?"

Dumbledore laughed quietly in response. "I do not doubt the Minister will be unexcited by such a request, but I will see to it that we have a short time with him. Shall we say in half an hour from now?"

Jean-Sebastian nodded his head and motioned for Harry to follow him from the courtroom.

A bewildered Harry Potter followed his benefactor from the courtroom, dazed at the events of the previous half hour. It would take some time for him to assimilate the information and changes to his life.

Still, it seemed to be for the better—at the very least, it appeared he would not have to return to the Dursleys', even if he was about to be forced into a marriage with someone he hardly knew.

And he had gained a significant ally. If he was any judge at all, Jean-Sebastian appeared to be a strong, no-nonsense leader who would not only fight for the rights of Harry's godfather, but also present a warm, comfortable home for him until Sirius was physically fit again. Knowing what he did of other families, Harry knew he had suffered from the lack of some manner of support from a family unit—he knew he had missed it desperately. Perhaps this would be the start of a new chapter in his life, one which was not all darkness and despair. He could only hope.

They walked through the hallways of the Ministry, avoiding the small groups of Wizengamot elders who had stopped here and there to confer with one another and the other Ministry employees who dotted the hallways, going about whatever business the Ministry was doing that day.

As they approached the stairway leading up to the upper levels, Harry's line of sight was caught by the woman in garish pink. She was watching him, the same sickeningly sweet expression plastered on her face, while in contrast, her cold eyes seemed to impale him from a distance. He returned her gaze unflinchingly, causing her smile to slip into a frown of displeasure, before following Jean-Sebastian up the stairs and reflecting he had made another enemy this day. Of course, given the way she had conducted herself in the courtroom, he suspected she had turned up already opposed to him for some unfathomable reason.

"We'll take the stairway down to level one," Jean-Sebastian commented. "No sense exposing you to the masses in the Atrium so soon after the hearing."

Harry agreed immediately, grateful the man understood his aversion to crowds, especially in light of his unwanted fame.

On the first floor of the Ministry building, Jean-Sebastian commandeered a small conference room, and after ensuring the door was closed for complete privacy, he turned and took a seat, motioning for Harry to do the same.

"Well, Harry," Jean-Sebastian began, slight amusement coloring his voice, "It's a lot to take in over the course of less than an hour, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied automatically.

Smiling, Jean-Sebastian waved Harry's words off. "Harry, I've just become your temporary guardian, and I will be your father-in-law at some point—I do not stand on ceremony. There is no need to call me sir. Jean-Sebastian will suffice."

Appreciating the fact that the man wished to have more of an equal relationship with him than just guardian and ward, Harry relaxed slightly, allowing a small smile to come over his face.

"Thank you, Jean-Sebastian. It is a lot to take in."

"Do not worry—I am certain you will have lots of time to think about the changes. Sirius is staying in my chateau in France while he undergoes treatment for his time in Azkaban. You will see him when we go there today."

"I've never been to France," Harry responded nervously. "Do you mean for us to stay there until school starts again?"

"Actually, we will be moving to England in the very near future, but that's something I still need to discuss with your Minister. You will only be in France for a few days at most."

Harry nodded, digesting the fact that he would see Sirius—he had been concerned and surprised when he had not seen his godfather at Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had assured him that all was well, but he had refused to tell him any more, saying that it was not his place and that no one else had had any information on Sirius's whereabouts. He was reassured to know his godfather was now being cared for by real healers.

"I'm sorry, s… Jean-Sebastian…" Harry stammered, noting the grin at his near slip-up. Harry found himself smiling in response, appreciating the fact that his new guardian was this so personable and easy to deal with.

Trying again, Harry took a deep breath. "I just wanted to say… I'm sorry for my reaction in the courtroom to your announcement. It's all just…"

Jean-Sebastian reached over and grasped Harry's shoulder. "As I said before, Harry, I am not upset. I knew this would be a lot for you to take in—it's not every day you find out you are engaged to someone you barely know."

"No, it isn't," Harry responded in a quiet voice, thinking of his friends and how they would react. The thoughts he had had of Hermione and Ron this morning did not seem to matter any longer, considering the new reality of his situation. "I can't imagine Fleur is very happy about it either."

"She was not when I first told her of what would happen," Jean-Sebastian responded with amusement. "You have to understand, Harry, although arranged marriages are not common any longer, they are still done often enough that every child raised in the magical world is aware of the possibility their spouse may be chosen for them by their parents. Fleur was surprised and not very happy about the development—she is not the type to take anything done without her consent with any degree of contentment—but we discussed it, and I believe she has become at the very least resigned to the situation. It may not have been what she would have chosen, but it is better than a lot of young women in her position can expect."

At Harry's questioning glance, Jean-Sebastian shook his head. "That's something you will have to ask Fleur—it has to do with being a Veela. She can explain it much better than I can."

Harry's curiosity was piqued, but he refrained from questioning his guardian any further on the subject, knowing his questions would not be answered.

"Fleur is at least acquainted with you and respects you, so you are both starting out better than many who end up in arranged marriages. I do not know what will happen in the future, but I believe you will do well together."

Dubiously regarding his companion, Harry responded, "Fleur respects me?"

Jean-Sebastian let out a loud laugh and shook his head. "So, I see you have been subjected to the infamous Fleur mask of arrogance."

At Harry's expression of incomprehension, Jean-Sebastian let out a few more chuckles and—wiping his eyes—gathered himself to face his ward. "Again, perhaps this is not my story to tell, but Fleur's arrogance is somewhat of a… show, if you will."

Jean-Sebastian eyed Harry before continuing. "You will have to go to her for details, but you should understand it is not easy to be a Veela when you are surrounded by others who are jealous of your abilities. Surely you have felt some measure of this yourself."

It was only the truth, Harry reflected, and he was suddenly glad of the fact he had decided to reserve judgment. He had never thought of the difficulty she would have to face every day, the jealousy and distrust others must feel toward a girl who by all accounts could turn any head, could steal any boyfriend, merely by turning on her Veela allure, without even resorting to her incredible physical beauty. He did not know Fleur beyond a simple, basic acquaintance, but he thought he knew enough to deduce she was not the type to behave in such a fashion, regardless of what others may think of her. Either way, she certainly had not done so when he had been able to witness it.

"I understand," he responded quietly.

"Good," Jean-Sebastian approved. "I trust you and Fleur will take the time to get to know one another."

"Yes, sir," Harry responded without thinking, prompting another fond smile from Jean-Sebastian

"Now, Harry, in answer to your question, yes, Fleur does respect you. Your courage during the tournament, the way you held yourself under the most trying of circumstances, the manner in which you beat the odds to win—they all definitely made an impression on my daughter."

Harry's cheeks were burning at the praise, especially since it was coming from a man who was speaking as though he had heard these praises from his beautiful daughter. The rush of color did not go unnoticed either, as he immediately saw his new benefactor grinning in response to Harry's embarrassment.

"But more especially, Harry, I believe she respects you and is grateful to you for your actions during the second task. You may not be aware of this, but Veela are beings of fire. Fleur's powers are at their lowest within the element of water, which is why she found it difficult, if not impossible, to defeat the grindylows which attacked her as she searched for her sister."

Jean-Sebastian's eyes became misty as he recollected what must have been a painful experience for him and his family. "I was so worried for her—and for Gabrielle when I learned she was under the water as well—and did not sleep well for weeks in advance of the second task once Fleur told me what it entailed. Although every precaution was taken to ensure the safety of all the participants, you are well aware of the dangers inherent in the tasks, regardless of precautions."

A smile broke over Jean-Sebastian's face. "Nice bit of flying during the first task, by the way. I don't think I've ever seen the like in all my years."

Harry felt his face become hot yet again, but this time Jean-Sebastian was not paying attention, lost as he was in the recollection of the previous school year.

"Knowing the nature of the tasks and the skill and courage needed to face them, place yourself in Fleur's shoes, and think of how it was for her, going into a task which was already intrinsically dangerous, but also being held in an element which is the antithesis of the majority of your powers. Fleur was at a serious disadvantage in that task, even greater than your own disadvantage throughout the entire tournament due to your being younger than the other champions.

"Then, consider the fact that Fleur loves her sister very much, and when she discovered her missing on the morning of the task, she was frantic, knowing her handicap in the task, and seriously questioned her ability to save her sister. And then the grindylows attacked and her worst fears were realized. You heard how the clue was worded—she emerged from the lake shivering and injured, but even more so, she was heartsick at her failure, deeply afraid of what may become of her sister.

"Then, against all hope, her sister emerges from the lake, and the means of her rescue is a boy who, in her own words, she had 'treated as though he was the lowest form of dirt to be scraped from the bottom of her shoes'. She was ashamed for her actions and words—had been ashamed of them for months—but her relief and joy were so great in the rescue of her sister that she expressed herself as gratefully as she was able. Believe me, Harry, she more than respects you. Any more than that, I think you'll have to hear from her yourself."

Harry was struggling with the praise—he did not think he had done anything especially noteworthy or heroic. He had been in a position to help someone, or so he thought, and he had taken that opportunity. Who would not? And it had all been so pointless—if he had thought about it at the time, he would have realized Dumbledore would never have allowed someone to be lost forever just because one of the champions had failed to retrieve their hostage.

"But Jean-Sebastian, it was all so pointless. The hostages were never in any danger at all—the Headmaster told me after the task."

Jean-Sebastian merely shook his head. "Don't try to deflect praise, Harry—it is very unbecoming. Did you believe at the time that my daughter would be lost if she were not rescued?"

At Harry's brief nod, he continued. "Then does the deed have any less meaning knowing in hindsight that it was ultimately unnecessary? Perhaps if you had thought about it further, you would have realized the hostages were safe regardless of your actions, but that does nothing to erase the fact that you acted heroically to save another person's life based on the information you possessed at the time."

"Hermione calls it my saving people thing," Harry responded with some embarrassment.

Jean-Sebastian threw his head back and roared with laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes as he shook his head in mirth. Harry had to acknowledge his laughter with a grin of his own—he had to admit it was amusing to have his impulse to help others described in such a manner.

"I guess it is at that," Jean-Sebastian finally responded, shaking his head between bouts of laughter. "But that's why I felt I had a debt to you, Harry. I'm not certain how much you understand about these things, but debts are taken very seriously in the magical world. They are generally magical in nature and can comprise of anything from monetary debts to life debts—technically, you saved my daughter's life, which binds you to my family by magic. If you were to invoke this debt, it would make the bond even stronger, allowing you access to many other demands you could make to my family… and to Gabrielle in particular.

"And then there is the matter of what you did for Fleur during the third task. I presume it was you who rescued her when she was unconscious in the maze?"

Slightly scared as to where this was leading, Harry nodded his head. "She was being held by some vines. I freed her, then shot sparks out of my wand so she would be rescued."

Looking thoughtful, Jean-Sebastian steepled his fingers for a moment before continuing. "In that case as well, it is uncertain what would have ultimately happened to Fleur. Whether a declared life debt would ever take hold if you were to invoke either incident I cannot say, but I still cannot ignore the matter."

Struggling somewhat with the concept, Harry tentatively regarded Jean-Sebastian. "What kind of demands would I be able to ask for?"

Jean-Sebastian shrugged. "There are many, depending on the degree of the debt and the relationship between the parties. Essentially, though, if you called in your debt to either of my girls, they would not be able to harm you, ever, and they may even be forced to take other actions, such as defending you against your enemies and the like."

Seeing Harry's look of relief, Jean-Sebastian chuckled and slapped him on the back. "Do not worry, Harry, they could not be forced to do anything immoral or illegal—magic does not work that way. You could not make them do anything they feel is wrong or degrading, you would just be able to control their intentions and actions against yourself and anyone with whom you associate."

"Was this why you helped me?"

"In part," Jean-Sebastian responded. "Yes, I feel a debt exists between us, and my openly supporting you, assisting in the trial, and betrothing you to Fleur is a measure of repaying that debt.

"But another part of my reasoning is out of concern for my daughter."

He regarded Harry, who squirmed somewhat uncomfortably, before continuing. "I have told you very briefly of some of the challenges Fleur faces and some of my worries for her future. I am secure enough in your character and in your personality that by betrothing her to you I know she will be well taken care of and will be loved and valued for herself. Now I do not need to worry about the possibility she will never find someone or, worse yet, that she will eventually fall in love with someone who cares nothing for her but wants her for a plaything or a trophy to show his friends. It was not long ago that such a fate was all too common for Veela. Now that Fleur is taken care of, I only need to worry about Gabrielle, and she is many years from that, as she is still only nine years old.

"And of course, the situation with this Lord Voldemort of yours played into my decision. You will be in direct conflict with this dark lord, and he seems to have taken an unhealthy interest in you. But I understand what this government of yours seems not to—eventually, if he is able to take over England, it will be too small for him, and he will start looking beyond its borders. By supporting you, who I believe will be instrumental in the effort against him, I am helping to defend my own homeland as well as yours."

"Thank you, sir," Harry responded, filled with emotion. Jean-Sebastian spoke to him as an adult and treated him as if he was a person of worth—rarely had he experienced that from adults of his acquaintance.

"You are welcome, Harry," Jean-Sebastian replied with a warm smile. "I can see already that we will become great friends. Now, did you have anything else you wanted to ask me?"

Harry thought about it momentarily before venturing another question. "How did this marriage contract come about?"

"It was your grandfather and my father, Harry," Jean-Sebastian answered after a moment's thought. "Fifty years ago, your grandfather was the English Ambassador to France. My father, Jean-Francois Delacour, was a member of the upper echelons of the French government. They met and became friends with one another and ultimately created the marriage contract to bind their families together. The contract was worded in such a way that it was to bind a firstborn Potter and a firstborn Delacour. But as I am the eldest sibling in my family and your father was your grandfather's only child, the contract went unfulfilled.

"This is why I am able to betroth my daughter to you—you are both firstborn in your respective families, meeting the conditions of the contract."

"But what would have happened if we were not betrothed?" Harry asked worriedly. "I've heard that breach of contract can have some disastrous results in the magic world."

"That is correct," Jean-Sebastian said with a wry smile, "but in this case you do not need to worry. Until the contract is accepted by both parties—or in the case of a marriage contract, the guardians of both parties—it is not binding. I did not even know my father had done this—it was Sirius who was searching through some old papers belonging to your father, who found it and alerted me to its existence."

"But isn't Fleur of age? Wouldn't she have to agree to the marriage contract herself?"

"Fleur is of age," Jean-Sebastian confirmed. "But in the magical world, children are still bound to their parents in a number of ways, the most of important of which in this case, is in relation to my status as the head of the Delacour family. Regardless of her age, I can still negotiate a marriage contract on her behalf, if I believe it is in the best interest of the family.

"Now, of course I would take her wishes into account, and if she had a serious boyfriend or fiancé, or had reservations about this marriage, I would likely have tried to find another way to help you. I could have forced her into it, though, as long as she was not already married—there are a few things I cannot override, and an already existing marriage is one of them.

"Of course, many parents might not take these things into account. I love my daughters and want them to be happy, but to many, especially in traditional Pureblood society, children are often merely pawns used to set up alliances between houses—their wishes are not taken into account. I like to think that I am somewhat more civilized than that."

It made a certain amount of sense, Harry reflected, and fit in with a lot of what he knew about family groups in the magical world. It was also comforting that although Jean-Sebastian could have forced his daughter into this, he did not, and would not have. As he had said before, she was at least resigned to it—maybe in time they could actually grow into an appreciation or even love for each other.

"Did you know my father?" Harry asked hesitantly, hoping he had one more link to his dead parents.

"I did indeed. I lived in England for a time when I was a child—it is the reason I speak English without much of an accent. As my father was close to your grandfather, we were regular playmates, and even though I was a few years older than your father, we were great friends as well. Unfortunately, when we returned to France before I started my schooling, my father died tragically a short time later, and we lost contact with your family."

Harry nodded, slightly choked with emotion. He had someone else who knew his father as a young boy, which meant another connection. It was not much, but it meant the world to him.

"Well, young Harry, I think our half hour is almost up," Jean-Sebastian said, rising to his feet. "You undoubtedly have more questions, but I believe we will have time to answer them in the coming weeks."

Agreeing, Harry followed his new guardian from the room, reflecting that his life was undergoing massive changes. It was not what he had expected, but his time alone with Jean-Sebastian had reassured him all would be well.

Updated 02/24/2013