The Turning Point

There were few things in life that Brianna actually found infuriating; the subject of Albus Dumbledore was among that few. She liked the old man, she really did. He was amiable. He was kind. He always acted in the best interests of others. He was compassionate towards those oppressed races who couldn't help the fact that they were born that way. He always fought to protect the students in his care.

That last one, though, seemed to be lacking in regards to the subject of one particular student's summer living conditions.

She couldn't understand the lack of sight in this regard. The Hunter's Academy that her aunt, Artemis, ran taught students to particularly pick out children in abused homes and find a way to take them out of said abusive situations. Brianna had mountains of accounts of this student's living conditions because of the fact that she had been his sole correspondent for most of the summer leading up to his second year. With said second year of Hogwarts ending, the pull for her "Den Mother" complex (something that tends to come with being an elf and, consequently, one of the oldest students in the school) became so great that she felt compelled to go to the Headmaster about the business of Harry Potter's abusive relatives.

Which was why, at this particular moment, she was standing in front of the Head Master's desk with her arms crossed and a dark scowl on her face. Professor Dumbledore seemed blind-sided to the mountain of evidence she presented to the man about the boy's disgusting excuses for family that she was contemplating the temptation to boil his blood. She could do that. It wouldn't be too hard, just a smidge of proper concentration and then no more Dumbledore.

"Miss Davis, I beg you to understand my position in this matter-," began the old wizard in a tired voice.

Brianna would have none of it. She slammed her hand down on his desk as the flames of her sometimes lethal temper flared to life.

"Professor, you weren't the one who Harry was writing to last summer telling you the tales of the dastardly deeds of the Dursleys. I had to commission Fred and George into figuring out a way to rescue him, for heaven's sake!" she said forcefully.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "You were the one who started the saga of Mr. Weasley's ex-Ford Angela?"

She rolled her eyes, "That's not the point I'm trying to make! The point is that we had to intervene! Children and a still under-aged elf-princess had to intervene! You were in charge of Harry's placement to the Dursley's care, why haven't you been checking up on him?"

The flicker of guilt crossing Dumbledore's blue eyes flashed for a moment before being replaced by his usual calm cheerfulness. Brianna's eyes furrowed in frustration. The man was disregarding her council!

"Miss Davis, I'm sorry, but Harry's position is a delicate one. He is safe from harm there…" he trailed off, not daring to continue that line of thought.

There were few times in her life, when Brianna could actually feel bouts of pure rage consuming her demeanor. This would be one of those times. Her face contorted into a terrible mask of furry and a lightening crackling fist punched his desk. All metal objects in the room shuddered once and then shattered into fragments of magical remains. A gaping scorched hole was left in the desk.

"Safe? You honestly think he's safe in that hell-hole? They still beat him, Professor! His cousin is allowed to use him as a punching bag, his uncle cracks open his back with a whip, and his aunt malnourishes him and you're telling me that he's safe? What the hell are you smoking?" she asked with her voice louder than anything she had ever mustered in the past.

Brianna didn't remember ever being this angry before now, but Dmubledore's refusal to see anything rubbed her the wrong way on so many levels that she wasn't entirely sure how else to respond. Someone had to tell him how much of an idiot he was being.

Dumbledore sighed and suddenly all appearances of strength were gone within him and left before her the picture of a tired old man. Brianna pursed her lips and straightened into her previous standing position. Whatever she was about to hear, it wasn't going to make her happy.

"My lady," he began and said beginning worried her, "Harry's placement with his aunt and uncle is solely due to the fact that he is under blood protection."

The blood drained from Brianna's face and left her paler than she normally appeared. Her mouth opened in a slight "oh" when everything was made clear to her. Blood magic that was most likely provided by his mother was the reason why he was forced to stay with the Dursley's. Still, despite this, didn't Dumbledore trust the elves enough to protect Harry? Under elven protection, he'd have extra training that he DID NOT have while at the Dursleys for the summer. Still, she understood the reason now.

"Why weren't we sufficient?" she asked.

A silence as deafening as a thousand foot deep chasm dropped between them for a moment. It was as if the universe waited with bated breath until Dumbledore gave his final answer; like the course of the future would be decided with the words he uttered that day.

"Because the life of an elven hunter is no place for a boy," replied the old man gravely.

There was nothing left to be said. Harry would stay with his abusive relatives because Dumbledore felt that the elven hunters weren't safe. Brianna sent him a final disapproving look before darting out of his office to pack her belongings for her trip home.

A soft smirk crept its way onto her face. The moment she found a way to get him out of there, she would take it.