When Harry left the castle that evening, it was just before dinner. Arriving home, he stepped out of the fireplace and found one of his elves waiting for him, "Fleur is waiting you in the garden." He had figured as much. She had been more than a little preoccupied with something the past few days. He idly wondered if it had something to do with the sacking of Trelawney and the appointment of Firenze, but could not make a connection - well a logical connection.
"Any ideas, Winky?"
"None sir." Harry nodded and made his way out of the manor. Given that it was late spring, it was warm enough, though the light breeze served as a gentle reminder that summer was a while away yet. He found Fleur stretched out on the grass, staring up at the sky.
Fleur was lost in her own thoughts, wondering how, and more importantly what, she was going to say to break the news. She had wondered several times how it happened - not the "birds and the bees" but how this could have happened. She had been practicing, talking to herself, and she felt that she had finally figured out what to say. All she had to do, was get the words out when the time came.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, and was about to begin when she heard a twig snap. "Bonsoir Harry," she said softly. "Join me?" He settled on the blanket next to her. He had barely gotten comfortable when she turned to face him. He could see the set of her eyes, the firmness of her mouth. He knew immediately that this was going to be incredibly important - one of those life-changing, fate-altering moments. She took several breaths, as if she was about to say something, explain the situation, but never managed to get those words out, "How was your day?"
"The new divinations professor is wearing a target on his back. He's been there less than a week and Umbridge is already out to for his blood. Honestly, the wizarding world is going to hell by owl and the Hogwarts Express. I look at the state of things and I swear, anyone thinking about bringing a child in to this world is committing an act of cruelty…" Her expression stopped him, "Fleur, what's wrong?" he asked quietly. His mind was moving a million miles a minute trying to figure out what was wrong, what could have changed. Though the wheels spun, they found no traction even as she sat there; clearly hesitant about broaching whatever it was that had her in knots.
It took her a moment to get her train of thought back on track, "You don't mean that do you? About bringing a child into world being an act of cruelty," she said, "You don't mean that?" The sun had just vanished beneath the horizon and the sky darkened as night fell.
He shook his head, "Forget what I said. I was just rambling, complaining. What's wrong?" The stars were beginning to come out, twinkling softly against the velvety blackness of the night sky.
Finally, she looked him straight in the eye, and the words exploded from her, "I'm pregnant." Two words and his brain ground to halt as he performed an accurate gold fish impression. His brain struggled to process those two words, and all its implications. Fortunately, he remembered to close his mouth before he started attracting flies. Fleur hesitated, "Six weeks," she said quietly, "I've known for about three days."
"Obviously, you are the father. We have a few choices to make in the next few days…" she talked, but Harry phased out completely. It was a shock, Fleur realized, and one that he was not capable of processing at that moment. He probably needs some time to digest it.
"You're pregnant?" he said softly. She had predicted a number of different responses. It was the reaction that she had virtually discounted, "You're pregnant." He seemed very calm, almost frighteningly calm, "That… you… wow…when?" he finished lamely and she released a breath she was holding. He wasn't that calm, a good thing she supposed.
"You didn't mean that did you?" she pressed, "About children being an act of cruelty?"
"When did I say that?" he asked her.
"When?" she seemed genuinely surprised, "Maintenant. Seventeen seconds ago!"
The garden lights came on. Soft, gently glowing orbs splashed soft white light across the grass, flowering plants and trees. Harry smiled, sheepishly, "Well… I meant that at the time and well…a lot has happened since then." He smiled suddenly, "You're pregnant?"
She was not sure what to make of it all. She had seen him smile before, but this smile was somehow, different. It changed him. Made him different. "I am pregnant." She said it again, partly to help him process it, partly to make it more real for her.
He did the unexpected. He pulled her close and held on to her, gently, yet firm. "You're pregnant." He whispered, "With our child. Our child," it seemed, right to him, in a way he could not really explain, "Do you know if it's a boy or…"
"Not yet. It's too early." She had wondered if she would be raising the child alone, with him, or be forced to consider a third unpleasant choice. She knew that she wanted to have this child. It was more than human maternal instinct: Veela instinct had already told her that the child would be strong in the magic of her mothers' bloodline, meaning most probably a girl. However, instinct had been wrong before. It was too soon to tell, "So I am, keeping the…"
The smile faltered for an instant and she realized what it was that made it different. He had laughed, joked around, and smiled but the smiles, never truly reached his eyes. That smile did. It seemed as if a part of him, of his soul perhaps, long ignored had suddenly felt the touch of warmth, of love and life. "You do want to…"
"Naturellement!" she exclaimed, "Veela treasure children as much as their mates, but, a child, with Veela traits, such as me, are… uncommon and seen as special by our kind."
"What do you mean rare?" he asked between kisses.
"I don't know if our child will be a boy or girl, but I can feel it, that our child will carry the magic of my blood, like my mother." She sucked in a breath as Harry's lips grazed the sweet spot on the side of her neck, "Harry," she said warningly "Ques qu tu fait?"
"Too affectionate?" he said as he bit her playfully.
She slapped him away, equally playful, "For outside in this weather, yes," she replied with a laugh. She sobered, "You are sure that this… is what you want to do?"
"Fleur," he took a moment, to get his thoughts, and more important the words straight, "You know anything about the life I lived with those muggles?"
"You never talk about it, and from Hermione, I knew better than to ask." She replied, slightly uncomfortable bringing up his first love.
"We should go inside," he said, "This is going to take a long time to explain." It did, and some things were easier to show than they were to talk about and explain. The pensieve, borrowed from Gringotts so many months before to show one memory was still in the same large cinema like room, and he used it now to show the life he had lived, more slave and house elf than human being. She watched and asked a few questions. He answered as fully and as honestly as he could.
"Why show me all of this Harry?" it was her last question, "You've had a childhood devoid of love, of comfort and care. How can you want to be a father? I'm not questioning your commitment," she added hastily, "It's just… Je ne comprende pas."
"It's simple," he said, "I've seen some of the worst, experienced it, and lived through it. I admit, I had not planned to start a family, but being a father, it's like I'm getting a second chance to relive parts of my life, and make better, happier memories to replace what you've just seen. No matter what happens, you and our child will be looked after."
"Harry, what are you talking about?" she said sharply. He was saying something, something that scared her.
He met her concerned gaze with one that had a tinge of sadness, and fear, "I don't know the future. I don't… trust all this divination, prophecies and fortune telling. But, if the worst does happen. If both of you are looked after, it's one less fear for me to carry. One less… thing for me to worry about. Knowing that both of you will be safe, it will give me more strength to fight with."
Looking in to his eyes, Fleur realized that death scared him, but he would not run from it. What he really feared was the fate of those whom he cared about, loved, and left behind. "Mon amour, you go nowhere without me by your side. You're not going anywhere, not alone." She pulled him close, and wiped a stray tear away from his left eye. "Why the tears?"
"For those who have not yet died, and will," he replied, "Because the Ministry won't do what is right. So many are going to die. Too many have already died." He held her, "Stay with me?"
"Always." She said, "I promise." and kissed his cheek.
In Hogwarts, professors were all too happy to remind them that their OWLs were drawing closer. Most of the staff however, noted that there was a lot less stress this year than in preceding years, though there were still a few, emotional meltdowns. Hannah Abbott was the first to receive a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey when her composure cracked in Herbology, sobbing that she was too stupid to take the exam. She was not the last.
The Legion still met regularly, but a strange thing had been happening, one that Neville had brought to Harry's attention: "Formal" Legion sessions still carried a heavy focus on Defense Against the Dark Arts, but other students had stepped up. Without asking they had started tutoring and coaching, much like Neville and the others had months before.
"If you were Minister of Magic," said Ginny, "we'd be deputy ministers and senior undersecretaries. Goldstien, Harker, Mallory, and the like, would be your department heads." It gave Harry something to chew on. He had never contemplated the big picture beyond the role he and his friends could play in the coming war. 'If I'm the general, then I had my chain of command.' He pushed that thought aside. His friends were one thing, he had asked them and they had stepped up. But he could not ask the rest of them, some as young as thirteen to step up and fight. 'More like step up and die.' He thought darkly.
It was the last session before the Easter holidays, and Harry was holding class with the top twenty Legionnaires as they had taken to calling themselves, privately of course. The subject of the day was the Patronus Charm and to his satisfaction, most of them had been able to get as far as producing a silvery mist. Only a dozen of them had managed a corporeal patronus but nearly all of them had managed to conjure the silvery mist that would buy time to disengage against a Dementor.
Circling the room, Harry turned just after Cho Chang gasped in delight: Hard work paid off as her Patronus took form, spreading its wing and take flight. The Swan glided amongst the students, "Nice one Cho," said Harry quietly as he turned to the other students, "Hard work. Discipline. Dedication. It pays off and you profit from…"
The room suddenly shook suddenly. The crystal and glass chandeliers dangling from the ceiling tinkled musically as it happened again. "Harry!" the voice splashed in to his thoughts, sudden and loud enough to make him wince, "Umbridge is outside with a number of student-underlings." The room shook once again and continued to shake as if in a seizure.
"Umbridge…" growled Harry, "She's outside." That stopped everyone in mid practice as Harry began a rapid, mental headcount. There were supposed to be fifteen people, and he reached fourteen, "Who," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "the fuck, is not here?"
There was a long moment of silence, "Edgecombe."The reply was quiet, whispered, as if they feared. Not for themselves but for what had possibly happen to Marietta Edgecombe for violating the agreement they all signed months ago. More worryingly, was what Harry was going to do to her.
"Rowena, how long can you keep them out for?" he asked, "And is there another way out of the room?"
"I could keep them out forever," she seemed almost amused by the predicament, "But that would raise all manner of suspicions since the doors are already cracked. And it is still the Room of Requirement. And like all rooms, it has only one door, and no windows facing in to the castle."
"Crap," muttered Harry wondering how exactly he could get everyone else out of this particular situation as he mentally called up the wording and phrasing of the educational decree that had banned the Legion from meeting regularly. It was something he had learned from Griphook, "When facing a problem, start by reviewing all the facts, no matter how irrelevant they may be. The most irrelevant facts may contain a solution or the path to a solution - even if it is "take axe and decapitate your opponent!""
Suddenly, Harry broke in to a smile, and quickly ran down the times and dates of the Legion training sessions that he had attended. Then he did the same for the other sessions run by his friends, who were present as "students" of this advanced class. The loophole was there, and that was their way out.
"Uh, Harry, shouldn't we be… making a break for it right now?" asked Neville.
"I dunno," said Colin, a dark, almost evil relish in his voice, "Wouldn't mind putting Umbridge and whoever else hangs around the toad in the hospital wing… or through a wall, or three."
"Stand down," he ordered with a smile, "I know exactly how to get us all out of this." With a wave of his hand, there were suddenly enough chairs for everyone, "Take a seat, relax and we'll go over the Patronus Charm one last time."
Everyone was… confused to say the least, but they complied, taking a seat as Harry began to talk about the charm just like he promised, "Rowena, give me a minute and then let them break their way in." She acknowledged and he continued speaking until the door was, in a word, obliterated.
Harry flicked his wand and a shield sprang up, directing the incoming debris away from him and his class as Umbridge marched in, a triumphant smile upon her face. To Harry's complete lack of surprise, following in her wake was a select group of mutant in-bred Slytherins, lead by Draco Malfoy, and an Oath Breaker.
Everyone waited with baited breath as the frilly pink clad horror cleared her throat. "Ahem-hem," she began in her usual high pitched, girlish voice. It rather reminded Neville of nails on a chalkboard. Unsurprisingly, Ginny and her twin brothers had nothing but death stares for their traitorous brother, standing next to one Draco Malfoy.
Harry turned to face the interruption, "Professor Umbridge, various lackeys" he greeted coldly, "To what do I owe this interruption?" He noticed Mariette Edgecombe, the scruff of her robes held in a death grip by Goyle junior. Her face bore the evidence of her betrayal: The word "Traitor" was written in puss oozing boils across her forehead. 'Griphook did say it would be uncomfortable and incredibly humiliating. He wasn't kidding,' thought Harry with a sense of vengeful satisfaction.
Harry just stared at Umbridge, giving her the same cold stare of indifference that Snape used when staring down at a classroom full of terrified first years, waiting for her to say something. Umbridge was thrown off tack for a moment, as none of the students gathered seemed bothered by her presence, disinterested even, as if she was momentary interruption and nothing more. "If it isn't the "Boy-Who-Tells-Lies"," she simpered, "I cannot help but wonder what lies you have filled the heads of your fellow students with, that would have them all following you in such a flagrant violation of the rules and educational decrees of the ministry."
'You wanna play, you toad faced bitch?' thought Harry, 'Then we play the game, my way.' He kept his face locked in to the same cold stare, "I ask again what you are doing here? If you're joining us," he snapped his fingers, "take a seat." Fourteen chairs had appeared in the room, "But I suspect you're not here for a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson."
"I am here, you arrogant child, to see to your expulsion from Hogwarts!" she hissed at him, before turning to the gathered students, "But all who cooperate with my investigation, and provide information in to the activities of this organization, "Legion," will not be expelled. I give you my word that I will…"
There was a soft snort from Colin. "Just like the ministry that says muggle thieves killed my mother, father, and brother?"
Umbridge rounded on Harry again, "You will come with me! The Minister is waiting in the Headmaster's office! He will deal with you!" she said savagely.
"Then we're all going to have a chat with the Minister," said Harry, "After all, we're all in trouble, all facing expulsion. Then we all have rights under Wizengamot Charter: To hear the charges being laid against us, and then to contact our legal guardians, and legal counsel!"
She frowned at the large group of students who glared back as she realized that Harry's legal expertise had painted her firmly in to a corner, "Of course, if you doubt my word," he said coldly, "I can have my lawyers here in a matter of minutes…"
Given little choice, she marched them through the castle, and he took pride in his friends and the students who followed him, all of them. They had held fast and stood together. He had feared one or more might crack, but none of them had. They had followed without question and it made him realize just how much loyalty and courage that took. Harry's respect for them rose a notch. They had held together like real soldiers… except for perhaps Edgecombe. She appeared to have betrayed them, but given the way the ferret and his associates were treating her, something just seemed off about it. He shrugged. Time would tell.
He had stood back and let Umbridge deal with Napoleon's poker face, before they ascended the staircase to the headmaster's office. Needless to say, Dumbledore was surprised to have the Minister and Percy Weasley stop by - an unexpected and not to unpleasant surprise, but the arrival of Harry and Umbridge followed by another twenty students had him wondering just what Harry had been getting up to.
Fudge glared at the older wizard, ignoring the influx of students until the room was nearly overflowing, "Get these children out of here at once!" he barked.
"If you are going to have professor Umbridge expel them, then you should at least have the courage to face them and tell them why! You should try to avoid violating their rights while you're at it!" Harry snapped.
Dumbledore stared at Harry. Gone was the boy that had idolized him. The… young man standing before him was going to be a force to be reckoned with, if he could learn what arenas he could play it. High level politics, was certainly not yet one of them, as he made sure that his eye twinkle was in place. "This is not the time and this room is too small for explanations!" countered Fudge.
Harry shot a quick glance to Dumbeldore, who blinked, wondering just what that meant, "Magic can solve a lot of problems, Minister," replied Harry, "Like so." He snapped his fingers and then drew a line across one end of the office. The line he drew cut across Professor McGonagall and several other men. Aurors probably thought Harry. His contempt for the minister went up a notch: Too scared to Floo from his office to a school by himself.
Umbridge gasped, as did the students, especially the knot of Slytherins stared dumbfounded at the display of Harry's raw magical power. The Minister was practically quaking in his shoes, and standing closest to Harry, Umbridge seemed to realize she had bitten off more than she could ever chew, if Harry decided to come after her, "Let's get down to business shall we?" He added a silent mental thank you to Rowena.
"Anything to make this lot tremble in their shoes." She replied, "Of course, if Fudge shakes anymore he might just vibrate himself to pieces," she mused, "Save you some work wouldn't it?"
"Don't play dumb with me, boy," Fudge snapped, drawing Harry attention back to the moment, "You know exactly why you are here."
"Why don't you tell me?" challenged Harry.
Fudge drew himself up in his chair. "You are here to be expelled for your blatant and repeated violations of Ministry Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four. Should you attempt to resist, you will be arrested. And if you think I won't have you arrested, you are sorely mistaken. No one, not even grandstanding, pint sized celebrities such as yourself is above the law!"
"I know you'd have me arrested," Harry's voice dropped from cold to icy venom, "I save a life, uphold the secrecy of our world, get charged with a violation of the Decree for Underaged Wizardry and have to stand trial before the entire Wizengamot. But, that's another story for another time. Regarding your precious decree number twenty-four, none of us have actually broken it."
"Preposterous," Fudge snarled.
"Indeed," chimed in Umbridge, "I have a witness." She nodded towards Edgecombe, "Right there." Marietta glanced up at Harry for a split second. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, and tears stained her cheeks, probably because a number of boils on her forehead had burst, spelling out the word "TRAITOR."
He raised an eyebrow, "And what exactly did she tell you?" he turned his stare on to Marietta, "I'd like to hear from my alleged accuser."
"She cannot speak at the moment," Umbridge brusquely cut in, "She informed me that I should check the Room of Requirement this evening to find an illegal club. However, telling me this activated a pair of latent Binding Spells leaving her incapable of communicating." She turned to Marietta, "Show him!"
Marietta hesitated for a long moment and finally opened her mouth. In place of her tongue was nearly a foot long, slender, forked tipped tongue that would not have looked out of place on a large snake, say a Basilisk. It flickered for a moment and then slid back into Marietta's mouth.
Harry gave an appreciative wolf whistle, "That tongue…her boyfriend, or girlfriend is one lucky individual," he drawled. Edgecombe flushed as every male in the bit back their laughter, though a snort or two escaped from Colin and Ginny, "I mean the things you could do with a tongue like that, boggles the… imagination." Harry grinned, almost salaciously at Marietta, "Would love to find out what you can and can't do with that..."
"That is beside the point!" snarled Fudge, as he took over the questioning, "How is it possible that you have not broken any Ministry Decrees which are as good as law? Have you not been teaching your students spells not only forbidden by the Ministry but also in secret?"
"Let me address that in two parts," said Harry, "Firstly, I have no teaching credentials or qualifications or much teaching experience. Certainly, I can tutor but tutoring does not stand up to the decades of experience that Professor McGonagall and even the Headmaster possess. Calling what I do teaching… I will take that as a compliment. I merely helped some friends and fellow students learn a few spells and charms that I could already do."
Harry, Dumbledore realized, was far from out of his depth. In fact, the young man seemed to have gotten the perfect measure of both the Minister and Umbridge, and he was quite happy to let him run the show for the moment. Harry waved his left hand, "tutoring friends and fellow students," he waved his right hand, "Ministry decrees… I don't see the connection."
Fudge blinked in surprise, "Ministry Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four expressly forbids any such thing without approval from the Hogwarts High Inquisitor! Your Defense Professor!"
Harry smiled. It was not polite or playful or even remotely shark like. It was downright predatory, "The decree forbids student organizations, societies, teams, groups, and clubs. It is alleged that mine are "classes" or "tutoring sessions." They do not fall into any of those categories."
There was muttering behind them and Umbridge, Percy, the Slytherins were completely lost. Dumbledore took a sip of tea to hide a tiny smile. 'Well played Harry,' thought the headmaster.
"Your own decree stated, that it had to be a regular meeting of three or more students. Ask anyone here, if we've ever met on a regular basis. We never have. Granted most of our meetings took place in the evenings. I'll grant you that but never has the attendance been regulated, or mandated, or forced upon anyone. There were even sessions where I was not present. So how could I be the one in charge?"
Harry's smile went from predatory, to that of a hungry predator smelling blood in the water. "Ask your witness." He met her eyes for a moment and Edgecombe suddenly realized that she was in way over her head.
"You can't possibly be serious!" Fudge sputtered. "You know bloody damn well that's not what the law is referring to!"
Harry's eyes narrowed. "I think you made it perfectly clear at my hearing this summer that the spirit of the law is irrelevant, and it is only the letter of the law that counts. And according to the letter of the law, we have done absolutely nothing wrong."
Dumbledore joined the fray, "I realize that I am no longer sitting on the Wizengamot, Cornelius, but I do still have a great deal of experience in these matters and Mister Potter is quite correct. Should you attempt to bring any of these students up on charges, they will be quickly dismissed."
"Get out!" roared the minister, "All of you children! Get out!" Umbridge's lackeys leapt for the door, but the Legions membership did not move, most did not even twitch, "What are you waiting for?"
With a subtle gesture from Harry, they rose to their feet, and filed out of the headmaster's office leaving Harry, Dumbledore alongside Minister Fudge and Professor Umbridge, along with the minister's Auror bodyguards who seemed to have taken up flanking positions around Mariette.
"Minister," simpered Umbridge, "While Harry's… study group may not have violated any ministerial decree, I have it on good authority" she nodded towards a silent and slightly trembling Edgecombe, something Harry noted with a sense of satisfaction. "That Harry is the ringleader of a group of students who have been teaching others not only defensive but also offensive spells, and certain advanced and very dangerous ones as well."
The Minister, Harry was convinced, was incapable of having a thought of his own unless somebody put one in his brain: He could already see very clearly where this was going and decided to head it off. "I can provide you with a list of everything I have tutored my friends, and you will find, that the vast majority of it, is on the Syllabus for either the OWLs, or the NEWTs!"
"As members of The Legion!" Interjected Umbridge triumphantly, "The Legion! A militaristic name for a study group is it not, Headmaster Dumbledore! He may teach them what is on the OWLs and NEWTs, but since when has the Patronus Charm been on either syllabus?" She went on, hammering essentially the same point home, repeatedly.
Harry realized that he had been outplayed, and found himself facing expulsion for "training an army of dissidents to overthrow the Ministry." Harry simply could not believe that he had dodged one bullet, only to walk in to a metaphorical Avada Kedevra. Dumbledore shot Harry a sidelong glance. Harry raised an eyebrow, and Dumbledore nodded, once sharply and firmly. Instantly, Harry knew something was about to happen… not necessarily something good.
"Perhaps, you should direct your complaints at the one responsible," interrupted Dumbledore, "While Harry may have taught them and trained an army, it was I who gave him the advice and direction to carry it out." Harry was absolutely gob smacked, out of every possible thing that the headmaster could have said or done, this was as unexpected as it could possibly get. "I cannot let the innocent party in all of this be punished for my actions." He leaned back in his chair, and was smiling, "Would you like a written confession or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"
There was fear on both McGonagall and Kingsley's faces. Clearly neither of them understood what was going on. The same could be said of both Umbridge and the Minister, "Harry may lead them, but I give direction."
Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudges face. He took a horrified step backwards, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again. "You?" he whispered, stamping again on his smoldering cloak.
"That's right," said Dumbledore pleasantly.
"You organized this?"
"I did," said Dumbledore.
"You recruited these students for ‐ for your army… Then you have been plotting against me!" he yelled.
"That's right," said Dumbledore cheerfully. Kingsley flashed a look of warning at Harry, McGonagall widened her eyes threateningly, but it had suddenly dawned on Harry what Dumbledore was about to do. Fudge was still ogling Dumbledore with a kind of horrified delight. "Well, well, well ‐ I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead ‐"
"Instead you get to arrest me," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"
"Weasley!" cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"
"Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note‐taking.
"The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"
"Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.
"Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with glee, "duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!" Percy dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turned back to Dumbledore. "You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged, then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"
He did not like what Dumbledore had done in the past, but this was beyond ridiculous. He rose from his seat and was about to interject when one of the Auror's placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry met the man's gaze and saw the subtle shake of the head. He carried himself like a warrior. Harry nodded, ever so slightly and stepped away, putting his back to the wall.
"Cornelius," said Dumbledore politely, "Are you laboring under the delusion that I will come quietly? I am afraid that is not going to be possible. There are far too many things I can be doing with the time than breaking out of Azkaban."
Umbridge's face was growing steadily redder; she looked as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he had just been stunned by a sudden blow and could not quite believe it had happened. He made a small choking noise, and then looked round at Kingsley and the man with short grey hair, who alone of everyone in the room had remained entirely silent so far. The latter gave Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forwards a little, away from the wall. Harry saw his hand drift, almost casually, towards his pocket. Harry had to prevent himself from drawing his own wand.
"Don't be silly, Dawlish," said Dumbledore kindly. "I'm sure you are an excellent Auror ‐ I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your NEWTs — but if you attempt to — er — bring me in by force, I will have to hurt you."
The man called Dawlish blinked rather foolishly. He looked towards Fudge again, but this time seemed to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next.
"So," sneered Fudge, recovering himself, "You intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores and myself single‐handed, do you, Dumbledore?"
"Merlin's beard, no," said Dumbledore, "This is where I bid you farewell!"Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over him. Dumbledore raised his hand and grasped the phoenix' long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the pair were gone.
"Where is he?" yelled Fudge, "Where is he?"
"I don't know!" shouted Kingsley, also leaping to his feet.
"Well, he can't have Disapparated!" cried Umbridge. "You can't do it from inside this school ‐"
"I'll take the stairs!" cried Dawlish, and he flung himself upon the door, "Maybe I can catch up to him!" He wrenched it open and disappeared, followed closely by Kingsley and Umbridge. Fudge hesitated, and then got slowly to his feet, brushing dust from his front. There was a long and painful silence.
"Well, Minerva," said Fudge nastily, straightening his torn shirtsleeve, "I'm afraid this is the end of your friend Dumbledore."
"You think so, do you?" said Professor McGonagall scornfully.
Fudge seemed not to hear her. He was looking around at the wrecked office. A few of the portraits hissed at him; one or two even made rude hand gestures.
"You'd better get those two off to bed," said Fudge, looking back at Professor McGonagall with a dismissive nod towards Harry and Marietta.
Professor McGonagall said nothing, but marched Harry and Marietta to the door. As it swung closed behind them, Harry heard the voice of one of the portraits, "You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts… but you cannot deny he's got style…"
That much, Harry could agree on.