AN: This chapter is not really the way I wanted to, but after much struggling with it and annoying myself in the process, I decided to post it as it is before I decided to erase the whole thing. anyway, I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless.

Once again, thanks for your support.

''In politics, if you want anything said, ask a man. If you want anything done, ask a woman.''

– Margaret Thatcher

Previously:

''Independently of your reasons to do such a thing,'' Amelia said, unmoved by Dumbledore's heated speech and deeply irritated with his proclamation of the 'Greater Good' (how she hated that expression!), ''I must remove you temporarily from your position as Chief Warlock, taking in effect immediately.''

CHAPTER 12

''What?'', the old man demanded dumbfounded at her sheer audacity of removing him – the great Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Defeater of Gridenwald and the only wizard that Voldemort ever feared – from his powerful position within the Wizengamot.

Florence fought against a gleeful smirk that wished to appear on her blank mask. She was beyond thrilled that Dumbledore was beginning his downfall and his words at the moment were not helping any.

''Albus Dumbledore, you are hereby removed from your position as Chief Warlock and all that entails until the investigation on this matter is resolved. So I say it, so mote it be.''

There was a flash of yellow light as Amelia finished speaking and Dumbledore found himself in common blue robes as his official plum-coloured robes displayed by each and every Wizengamot member disappeared from his person.

Seeing that he didn't have any intention of leaving his Seat, Amelia upgraded his glare and gestured slightly for him to move or else.

The old man complied, albeit very much against his will, displaying slumped shoulders and a mournful and disappointed face, acting as an unfair and harmless victim for all to see. He marched slowly, making himself older and frailer than he really was, to the first row of the public stand and took the seat previously occupied by Florence at the beginning of the trial.

Not far from his new seat, a few of the Weasley family and Granger looked completely enraged by the situation, if the death glares they kept sending in Florence's direction was anything to go by. The father and the four oldest sons seemed confused and thoughtful at this turn of events and – to Florence's great pleasure – didn't look much impressed with Dumbledore at the moment. Molly Weasley and Hermione Granger were shooting fierce glares at Lady Peverell alternating with supporting gazes in the old man's direction and even some seemingly comforting words that Florence couldn't hear as she was too far away. Ginny was looking depressed for all to see, which could be easily taken as grief for her long time crush's death even though it was not the true at all. As it was the same case with her brother Ron, who was sporting a bright angry red face, they both felt the Potter fortune slip farther away from their greedy clutches with every passing minute; with Harry's death, the only way they could have taken his money was through Dumbledore and now not even that option was available to them any longer.

The Wizengamot's members under the old man's thumb had wisely kept silent and no one of them even moved to protest against Madam Bones' decision. Despite unknowingly being simple pawns in Dumbledore's political games the majority of them were not completely idiots and actually understood when they could or not stand against decisions within their judicious body which they believed to be unfair and wrong.

The people on the stands were once more furiously whispering among them, quite shocked at this unprecedented turn of events. Many of them seemed rather offended and angry that the great Albus Dumbledore had been kicked out of the Wizengamot so easily and unjustly, entirely ignoring the accusations and evidences that had just been provided – those were the old man's blind supporters, the ones who followed every single word that Dumbledore uttered and never thought that he could do or say anything wrong.

Much more people, however, understood that this situation was not a simple one. To be able to temporarily remove the current Chief Warlock from his position there must have to be strong and solid accusations against his person and the tampering of one's Will was most certainly one of them.

Only once before in the history of the Wizengamot, another Chief Warlock had been officially and unwillingly removed from his position (the prior suspension of Dumbledore's status among the Wizengamot these past few months had been a willing one, mostly decided between himself and the Minister after their disagreement about Voldemort's return and thus it didn't really count as a forceful and permanent removal). It had been more than one-hundred-and-fifty years previously that the then Chief Warlock had been forcefully removed from his position due to several charges of torture and murder of two foreign wizards. The wizard had been judged guilty later on and a new Chief Warlock had been appointed; however while the matter had not been completely solved, it was not possible to choose a new one. There could be merely an Acting one for the time being which was where the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement came in.

Florence watched Dumbledore's frail acting with disgust even though at the same time inside she was happily applauding Amelia. This was the first nail in the old man's coffin and she was eager to deliver a few more.

''Now that this matter is taken care of for the time being,'' Amelia said clearly unbothered with what she had just done to the blind sheep's beloved wizard, ''Lady Peverell, you may proceed.''

''Thank you, Madam Bones,'' Florence responded respectfully with a nod.

All around the whispering conversations ceased completely and the attention was once more solely focused on the powerful Lady, everyone looking forward to what she had to say. Many of the people who had been sceptical minutes before about her competence in this trial started to concede that perhaps the young witch knew what she was doing after all.

''As Mr. Dumbledore mentioned the Blood Wards surrounding Harry Potter's relatives' house, I'd like to call a Ward Master with more than forty years of experience to answer some questions about them,'' Florence stated calmly as she righted the sheets of parchments before her, her eyes on the public unseeing.

''Certainly, Lady Peverell.'' Madam Bones allowed easily and swiftly.

''I'd like to call Master Laurent Ville, a renowned French Ward Master to the Stand,'' Florence said with her voice strong and unwavering as she shifted her gaze to a lateral door on the courtroom which was usually used to allow entrance to witnesses and such.

That door opened a second after she stopped talking and a middle-aged wizard stepped in with his head held high. Florence definitely conceded that the man had every reason to be proud. Mr. Ville was only 61 years old and was said to be the best Ward Master that France had in the last two-hundred years. Many rich pureblood families around Europe requested his services to ward their homes and/or business and had to wait some time as the wizard had a very busy schedule. Florence had requested his presence at this trial via Gringotts as a personal favour to the powerful Lady and the promise to the famous Ward Master to ward a certain known building in the near future which Mr. Ville once confessed he'd wished very much to do his work in.

They both had met the previous day at Gringotts for the first time and after being explained what she intended and with a Secrecy Oath, the French Wizard had assured her that it would be his pleasure to help Florence in her plans.

Mr. Ville stopped before Florence and greeted her respectfully with a kiss on the back of her hand and a smile before he took his place on the witness stand.

From the corner of her eye, Florence could see that Dumbledore did not seem at all happy with the direction of her plans and she had to fight against a smirk. She was curious to see if the old man would stay silent or if he would behave as a rash Gryffindor and bury himself a little further and speak against the evidences.

''Hello, Mr. Ville, thank you for being here today, '' she started cordially, her eyes not straying from the man before her. He mutely nodded in response. ''As I was saying moments before, I'd like to ask some questions about Blood Wards. I assume that you are fairly acknowledgeable about this type of protection?''

''Certainly, my dear,'' Mr. Ville acquiesced kindly with a slight accent and another nod, before expounding on the matter. ''Despite being claimed as a type of Dark Magic protection due to the blood required to erect the wards, there is absolutely nothing malicious about them. This type of protection can only be created with the blood of one who had died protecting another and they must share a blood connection between them; in most cases it is between a mother or father and their children. After the wards have been cast on the chosen property where it must live another person who shares the same blood connexion, there is a six months' time to let both parties get acquainted, shall we say, with each other, and it is only then that the wards come in to full force of defence, that is, if the requirements are met. Through this waiting stage, the wards are active but function not unlike the more standard family wards.''

''When you say that both parties need to get acquainted with each other, what you do mean exactly?'', Florence asked seemly calm and collected, already knowing the terrible true.

''The Blood Wards need, in fact, some positive feelings between the child being protected and the person anchoring the wards. The stronger the feelings of love and care between them, the stronger and powerful will be the protection,'' Mr. Ville answered evenly, not disclosing to anyone that he, too, already knew what Florence was getting at. He had been beyond appalled when he had been told of the actual true about the famous Blood Wards protecting Harry Potter.

''So if, hypothetically, there was never any love or any level of care between the adult and the child being protected, what would happen to the wards in your qualified opinion?'', the young witch continued her questions as if she was talking about the weather and not the widely misconception that had been Harry Potter's protection all these years.

''I never witnessed myself a case like you describe, however I have no doubts that those wards would simply shatter and fall completely without any support or they could still remain, although they would offer no protection at all, not even the more standard one; they would merely stand there like a decorative piece that would serve no purpose at all.''

Florence already knew all this and though that now she didn't even bat an eyelash at this information, the first time she had heard it, she had been anything but calm. To know that she had not been attacked by Death Eaters or Voldemort himself in the Dursley's house by pure conjecture and luck was something that she had had a very hard time to swallow. She had been truly alone and defenceless in that hellhole prison for almost sixteen years and no one aware of that fact had cared at all. At that moment, the hatred and rage inside her against Dumbledore had reached huge proportions and only her powerful Occlumency shields had stood against the wrath that wanted to get out and destroy her surroundings.

Many people gasped in shock at Mr. Ville's response. Even without directly and clearly spell it out, they had understood the true meaning of his words and were appalled. Despite each and every one's feelings about Albus Dumbledore, all of them had readily believed when the old wizard had stated in the past that the Boy-Who-Lived had been completely safe in his family's residence during all these years.

Florence stole a quick and subtle glance in Dumbledore's direction. The old man's face had turned ashen with the Ward Master's explanation and it was clear that he had not foreseen this complication in the trial at all.

Florence was not sure if the man even had known about the Blood Wards' specific details and requirements. Had he basically cast the wards without bothering in research them throughout and thought it was all that needed to be done to ensure their full power? Or had he actually known and simply hadn't cared that Harry was left completely unprotected in that dreadful house all his life? She had wondered about this before, though it really didn't matter either way. The point was that Harry had unnecessarily suffered all his life in that hellhole of a house and Dumbledore had been utterly careless and heartless with the boy's life – and Florence's – right from the start. And this was one of the main reasons for Florence's unwavering actions to see the Headmaster suffer the most painfully and embarrassingly possible as long as he kept on living.

After that alarming statement, Florence kindly thanked Mr. Ville for his time. She didn't want to spell out everything to the Wizengamot and audience. She wanted them to realize the harsh true on their own and gather their own opinions on this trial so that Florence couldn't be really blamed later (mainly by Dumbledore) in steering this hearing in a particular direction and force people in to believe what she wanted them to. She could see most of the Wizengamot members and many people on the public stand as well lowly whispering among them with upsetting expressions and she felt that that specific plan was at least partially accomplished for the moment.

With the first witness taken care of and the positive outcome from Mr. Ville's disturbing information, Florence felt a renewed sense of eagerness to continue this trial. If she would have her way, this day would be remembered for a long time to come as the day when the British Wizarding World started to raise their collective heads from underneath the sand and begin to understand all that was wrong in their mistakenly perfectly superior and structured world.