Chap. 49: Back at the ministry the next day, home, Flint causes a spark, and Harry is furious.

Harry waited in his office for almost an entire day for Rufus to appear. It was Tuesday, the 3rd, and the minister had been busy, Harry figured, and he'd show up when he could. Just as he thought this, his office door opened.

"Harry," Scrimgeour said with a nod before heading over to Harry's cognac decanter. After the minister poured himself two fingers into his glass, he took a seat in front of Harry, where he slouched back into his seat, and sighed.

"I've had a bloody bad day, Harry," Rufus remarked before taking a sip of his drink and gently placing it on Harry's desk, where he began to slowly turn the glass in a circle with his fingers. "Why I ever thought that taking this position was a good idea, I don't know.

"I had to personally visit the Muggle PM this morning because Fudge had bungled it during his last visit. He was wanting to know about our progress, so I tried to explain where we are, now, and do the best that I could with the bloody dense muggle."

Here, Rufus took another sip, sighed, and closed his eyes.

"Would you like me to go with you the next time?" Harry asked. "He does know about me, does he not?"

"Oh, yes, he knows about you all right," Rufus stated. "He has MI5 watching over your uncle at his work, and your cousin at his school. I told him that they could get in our way of saving either if they were attacked."

Here, Harry stood and poured himself a glass as well. "Well, shite. Aunt Petunia will blow a gasket if she finds that out."

Harry retook his seat and leaned back making his chair squeak. He loved that, as it unnerved those meeting with him, especially when they were in the middle of a long diatribe.

"Minister, I have a question for you. Why is Markus Flint back at Hogwarts?"

Here, Rufus snorted and cracked his left eye open to glance at Harry.

"That boy, well he's a grown wizard, now, is as dumb as they come; a real imbecile, Harry. You remember that he was held back a year?"

"Yes," Harry said and was wondering where this was leading.

"Well," Rufus explained, "after he left Hogwarts, he was hired in at Games & Sports where they found that he could hardly read, nor write and that he was next to useless, so, he was let go. He hadn't graduated from Hogwarts, either.

"His father, of course, stormed in, and harangued Fudge into rehiring him, so they placed him in Magical Maintenance, and he was too dumb for that, too."

"I always did say that he looked to have Troll blood in him," Harry remarked.

"Well," Rufus said after he chortled, "his father decided that another year at Hogwarts might obtain him a diploma, or that was his excuse where he paid double the tuition fee, but I don't look for that to happen since Albus can't be bought. They'd already been caught sending someone in, using Polyjuice, to sit his exams, here."

"No," Harry replied with a shake of his head, "Dumbledore will not pass him on, nor will McGonagall agree to it, and she has to sign the diploma as well. It sounds like his father is rather desperate." Harry also wondered if this depended on Dumbledore being cursed, and his father thinking that Snape would pass him on once the headmaster passed away.

"Oh, he is," Rufus chuckled. "They're highly inbred, Harry. Marcus' mother is his father's first cousin."

This made goose bumps rise up on Harry's arms at the thought. "About like the Gaunts were, then."

"Yes," Rufus stated, "and his father has ties to You-Know-Who; a sympathizer."

"I figured," Harry said with a scowl. "Listen, Rufus, Terence Higgs was escorting his brother on the train, and we had a long talk at the Hog's Head afterward. He's afraid that Marcus is marked, and was sent to Hogwarts for something nefarious.

"Marcus also assaulted me on the train, but I quickly handed him his arse. Plus, Daphne picked up on his surface thoughts just before that, as well as Astoria, and he was thinking about molesting Daphne. I can't allow that, Rufus, so, I ask you to have the Auror Department to start an investigation on him."

"I was afraid of that, Harry," Rufus said as he opened his eyes and finished his drink with a large gulp. "Bertie was warning me about Marcus as well, so I'll put Proudfoot and Tonks on it."

"Thanks, Minister, that means a lot," Harry replied with a nod.

"No problem, Harry," Rufus said as he stood and opened the door. "Be ready for the next Wizengamot, as I hear that Tom's sympathizers may have something up their sleeves."

Harry arrived home at five-thirty, where he handed Kreacher his coat before making his way to the drawing room. There, he found Bathilda sitting in a chair, drinking tea, by her bed.

"Are you feeling better, today, Bathilda?" Harry asked as he sat in the wingback chair across from hers.

"Yes, much, child, much better," Bathilda replied. "The walker that the Hogwarts Matron left me helps as well, but my hip is still a little sore. I had fractured it, you see. Old age, young Harry, old age."

"You may have Bursitis in it now, which is swelling in the joint, and I'm not sure if wizarding medicine has what the muggles have for that. They inject steroids into the joint, which quickly relieves the inflammation and pain. Women are really prone to it, it seems, as I overheard Aunt Petunia speaking to her husband's sister about it once."

"Hmmm," Bathilda muttered and took another drink of tea. Harry noticed that her shakes had cleared up a lot as well.

"How is young Daphne?"

"She's fine, but I'm worried about her being alone at Hogwarts without me," Harry replied with a sigh. "I'm worried about my little sister-in-law, who's frail, and their cousin, Tracey, as well. There are some guys in Slytherin that I don't trust being around them."

Here, Bathilda studied Harry with a hard stare for a moment. "You don't think they'd..., oh, my!"

"I'm afraid that I think exactly that," said Harry. "There are several perverts in her house, and there's a few in the other houses as well. Plus, well, some purebloods see witches as nothing but sex objects, and chattel."

"Well," Bathilda said after taking another sip of tea, "they've not changed much since my time, then.

"It's the wealthy families, Harry, and this goes back to the Glorious Revolution, when things changed, especially with Charles II and James VII and II."

"Why's that?" Harry inquired.

"You've never studied the 'Restoration,' and the literature and perversion that come from that? My goodness, child, that was when Wycherley wrote The Country Wife, and Wilmot wrote Sodom. They actually made plays of those, and they were very perverted. That was when libertinism was on the rise in the elite class. The Hellfire Club came about not long after, in 1715, which is where the elites had their orgies.

"At the time, the aristocrats were known to always cheat on their wives with the prostitutes at the brothels and in the inns and pubs. Why, the drunken heathens even had open copulation, at night, around St. James's Park. Decent people were lucky when the fog rolled in.

"That was also when the French Pox was being spread everywhere over their antics."

"Really?" Harry muttered.

"Oh, yes, child, and this kept occurring until Queen Victoria took the throne, where they hid their actions because she would have none of it. It wasn't until the 1960s that they started showing themselves for what they truly were, again. Beforehand, they kept their actions hidden inside their private clubs, and at the VIP parties that they held."

Their conversation continued on into the evening, where finally Harry helped the old witch to the dining table at seven, and then back to bed.

Harry made his way to his room, put on another jazz record, poured himself a nightcap, and called Daphne on his mirror.

The following day, Daphne was standing just outside the doors at the great hall and was speaking to a group of witches from differing houses and ages, along with Tracey and Astoria. It was mainly answering questions about what married life was about, and Hermione was even standing on the outskirts of those assembled.

However, that was when Marcus Flint elbowed several away and made his way behind Daphne, where he drew back his right hand, and gave her bum a rather loud slap before draping the same arm over her right shoulder and fondling her right breast.

"Don't you think it high time for you to drop Potter for a real man like me," Marcus drawled, and then, smirked.

Daphne, instead of becoming embarrassed, quickly reached up with her right hand and grabbed Flint's thumb, and with her left hand, she reached across and grabbed his pinky. Next, she simultaneously ducked and pushed his arm up, and then stepped backward, where she then reversed her hands to their normal position, which twisted Flint's wrist, and arm. His pinky snapped, though, which made him cry out.

Using this to her advantage, she pushed his wrist against his back and held it with her right hand. Next, she grabbed his collar with her left, and then kicked him in the back of his right knee while pushing him sideways with his collar. Of course, he fell like a stone, but she kept control of his right hand and his broken finger.

Here, and with a loud scream from Flint, Professor McGonagall came running from the great hall, where she witnessed most of it before Harry Higgs hit Flint with a stunner.

"What on earth is going on, here!" McGonagall shouted over the whistling and shouts of "give him more."

This, of course, triggered a gaggle of witches into telling her what happened just as the headmaster arrived on the scene.

Finally, she asked Daphne what happened, and the young witch, now, blushed to her roots.

"He - he, well, he slapped me hard on my bum, professor, and then threw his arm around me, where he then, well, grabbed me by my bosom."

"Why, I've never!" McGonagall exclaimed, and Dumbledore scowled. "Where did you learn to defend yourself like that, if I may ask, Lady Potter?"

"Her husband, of course, Minerva," Dumbledore spoke up, and Daphne quickly nodded.

"Really?" McGonagall asked, and Daphne nodded again.

"I saw it all, Professor," Hermione spoke up, "and Flint did molest her. He asked her if she was ready to throw Harry down for him. He was quite rude, actually."

"Yes, well," Dumbledore said just as Horace waddled onto the scene.

"Oh ho! What has happened here?"

"One of yours, Horace," Dumbledore said as he waved his good hand at Flint, "tried to lay his hands on Lady Potter, and well, she put him down where young Mr. Higgs stunned him."

"Just like Lily, she is," Horace bragged while making Daphne smile, "and ten points to Mr. Higgs for helping a fellow student in a time of need."

"Horace," Dumbledore said, "collect Mr. Flint and take him to your office, as I must floo his father. I will not have this unseemly activity taking place at my school."

Finally, Astoria snapped out of it. "My big brother will kill him when he hears of what's happened. That you can count on."

Albus, Horace, and Minerva all grimaced at this and were already bracing themselves for Harry to make an appearance.

Harry was woken the next morning by an owl pecking on his window, so he made his way out of bed, and opened the sash, where he noticed his front grounds covered with snow, and it was cold.

After Harry retrieved the letter and the owl left with a treat in its beak, he noticed that the letter was from Hogwarts. Here, he quickly opened it and began to read.

.

.

Lord Potter,

I regret to inform you that your wife was assaulted, yesterday, and just before noon by another student. The headmaster and his head of house dealt with him after his father arrived.

If you have any questions, please feel free to owl me, or visit us at your convenience."

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Professor of Transfiguration

Head of Gryffindor House

.

.

Needless to say, Harry was fuming mad as he crushed the letter in his hand, and started getting himself ready. He was going to Scotland before anything else, and he made a bet with himself that he already knew who did this.

Harry also wondered if that was why Daphne hadn't answered her mirror last night. She never failed to answer, and he wondered why.

In the great hall, that morning, many of the students kept staring at the doors, and several of the professors kept glancing up at them as well, especially when they heard a noise.

At ten after seven, the two large oak doors flew open with a violent bang, making many jump in their seats, and then grimace at what they saw and felt.

Lord Potter had arrived, and he was quite upset, they could tell, especially since every hair on them was trying to stand on end over the magic radiating off the young mage. This, of course, led to many whispers discussing his magic, where mutterings of "Warlock" and "Sorcerer" were overheard from the tables.

When Harry walked up to the staff table, with a scowl, the ill headmaster shakily stood up with a grimace.

"Please follow me to my office, Lord Potter, and Lady Potter and Miss Granger, you both should come as well."

Just as Daphne and Hermione stood, both Minerva and Horace did as well and followed Albus from the table.

When everyone left the hall, someone from Hufflepuff said aloud, "Harry's ready to kill."

Everyone swallowed down the lumps in their throats at that.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This explains Flint, which is who some may have been wondering about. He was sent back for several reasons.