Champions

Transference

In the years that followed, Fleur would only ever be able to recall vague impressions of the remainder of that fateful meeting. All of her attention had suddenly been focused on Harry. His anger was palpable after the mention of the Dursleys.

An explosion from his direction was not going to help their case any, and he thankfully knew that, so he allowed her efforts to keep him calm.

The long and short of it was that they had Dumbledore over a barrel on the guardianship, and he had clearly overstepped the bounds of every position he held. If he tried it again they would throw the book at him. They could dream up a whole host of charges for him to answer to, and with Amelia Bones herself doing the charging, he would certainly be forced to defend himself.

It was a bluff, of course.

As far as Dumbledore knew, they had nothing on him that would stick in any meaningful way, and he was mostly correct. Oh, he was clearly a criminal, but the fact that he had more than half the magical world in his political pocket was well known. He would never be convicted of anything even the slightest bit subjective, and at worst it would be a nuisance for him to deflect it all.

They didn't bother enlightening him on their knowledge of his theft from the Potter estate. That, he would not be able to sweep under the rug so easily. Anything else he faced was just gravy; they had to weaken his reputation before they could take him down if they wanted to ensure he couldn't slip out of it somehow.

Of course if he continued to tarnish his own reputation like he had with Snape's trial, it would be all that much easier.

The end result of the meeting was a strong demand that he steer clear of Harry and Fleur, and it was backed with some fairly sharp teeth. Fleur did not expect to have any trouble from the old man's direction for a while. He was extremely angry over losing Harry Potter to a visiting school, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Not without opening a massive can of worms, anyway. Amelia Bones was nobody's fool.

Harry and Fleur left that meeting feeling an unexpected measure of freedom and safety from the meddling old goat.

The following morning they sat down at their usual place at the Gryffindor table for breakfast as though nothing had changed. Dumbledore was blessedly absent; of the staff that Fleur was acquainted with, only McGonagall was present. Neville was already there and nodded a silent good morning to them, and Hermione wandered in a few minutes later.

She quickly took the seat next to Neville, across from Fleur. The first thing out of her mouth post-greeting was no surprise given her inquisitive nature.

"So what happened with the Headmaster?" she asked innocently.

Harry closed his eyes and let out a pained groan. Fleur reached over and put a gentle hand on the back of his neck, but couldn't help her amused chuckle. She knew he wasn't upset by the question – but also that he wasn't looking forward to answering it. He was afraid of Hermione's reaction.

Fleur decided to spare him the trouble.

"'Arry is transferring to Beauxbatons, 'ermione," she said with utmost seriousness. "Ze 'eadmaster ees too controlling, and we will not tolerate eet any longer."

It was probably fortunate that so few were in the Hall at this time of morning, or that statement would likely have started a riot right then and there. As it stood, the few students within hearing range of their conversation immediately went silent – and then the murmurs started as they passed the new rumor on to their friends.

Fleur rolled her eyes in exasperation. Hogwarts truly was no different than Beauxbatons in that respect. The rumor mill tended to work overtime, and the transfer would likely be a known fact throughout the castle before the hour was even up.