Chapter Fourteen - Wendell Shocks Harry

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to the proverbial Duchess of Magic, JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. No matter how much I whine about not owning anything related to the HP universe, other than a few fanfic plots, I do not profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world... Damn it!

A/N: Quite a few reviewers - of the reviews I manage to read, at any rate - mention about Harry's immunity to mind magics and ask why isn't he immune to the Unspeakables' charm on him. I remind you of this: Just because Harry believes he's immune to all such magics it doesn't mean he is. Plus, the Unspeakables also know about the so-called immunity. Don't you think they'd have taken that into consideration?

C'mon, peoples! Authors expect you to figure some things out for yourselves; otherwise we spend all our time explaining the story instead of telling the story.

Chapter Fourteen - Wendell Shocks Harry

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

The breakfast turned out to be such a welcome after his long stay in a holding cell, Dumbledore actually stayed a little longer than he planned. It wasn't until the mail owls all streamed in that he realised how late it was and was quick to leave again.

However, this time he left by way of the main doors into the room, so the students could see him and know he was back. That way was a little longer to get back to his office so he could apparate out to McGonagall's ancestral lands in the Scottish highlands, but the walk helped to get his blood pumping and his mind sharpened.

Almost as soon as he walked into his office he apparated out. He never noticed the owl-delivered scroll, sealed with red wax and stamped with the Hogwarts Seal, sitting on his desk with the rest of his 'redirected' mail.

He appeared a long moment later on the outskirts of a small Scottish settlement that was the home village of the Stewart Clan, Minerva McGonagall's ancestral clan seat. He had to apparate in quite a distance out as the village was, like most such magical settlements in Scotland, under one massive anti-portkey anti-apparation ward schema, to name two of the wards over the area. Only those of Stewart blood could portkey or apparate directly into the village. He knew her small home to be among the private residences just beyond what could passably be called the Village Square.

As he walked in and made sure he did not seem threatening at all, quite a few of the Highlanders of Clan Stewart stopped to watch him for a few moments before then deciding to ignore him and get on with what they were doing. He was, after all, only a Sassanach - an Englishman.

It was almost twenty minutes before he was through the centre of the village and out into the homes on the other side. And half that time later he was at the front gate of McGonagall's home.

Barely pausing in his stride, he opened the gate and walked up the short path to her door.

A firm but polite knock on her door and he waited, mentally reviewing what he needed to talk to her about and his plan for getting her back into the castle as his deputy, once more.

Almost before he realised it, the door was yanked open by the very witch he wanted to see. However, it was instantly apparent she would not be welcoming him.

Minerva McGonagall stood there with an expression of great fury on her face and her wand in her hand.

"Minerva?" he politely asked. "Whatever is the matter?"

That triggered it.

McGonagall immediately launched into screaming and verbally cursing him in a combination of Gaelic Scottish and English Scottish before she started flinging curses and animated transfigurations at him. If it wasn't for her opening with invective first, he knew she'd have likely killed him.

"Ye glaikit bludy buggerin' auld rockit!" (You stupid bloody buggering old fool!)

Her wand whipped up and she cast a banishing charm at him. One he didn't have his own wand out and ready to defend against. The curse sent him flying backwards, back to and through her front gate.

"Ah lost mah jab, fur ah trusted ye!" (I lost my job because I trusted you!) she screamed as she stalked out the door and after him.

Then she began to transfigure various rocks and garden decorations into almost fantastical beasts she then sent after him.

"Tha thu dad ach fèineil, suas Sasannach fhèin le delusions fèin airidheachd!" (You're nothing but a selfish, up himself Englishman with delusions of self entitlement!) she screamed.

By then he'd managed to get himself to his feet, drawing his wand as he did so, just in time to destroy and banish away the animated transfigurations.

"Bi falbh còmhla riut! Chan eil riamh dorcha mo gan rithist, tha thu geal-whiskered wanker!" (Begone with you! Never darken my stoop again, you white-whiskered wanker!)

The next few attacks came by way of curses, followed up by the transfiguring of some other piece of detritus out of the 'street' that attacked him from behind. He'd managed to spell swat the curses aside but was nearly bitten on his leg by the tin lion that came at him from outside his peripheral vision. He was lucky it only managed to get a 'bite' of his robes.

He banished that but had to dive out of the way of her follow up 'grey' curses she'd sent at him while he was dealing with the lion.

She screamed at him, yet again, "If ye ever come 'ere again ah will demand Chief 'Amish declare blood feud oan ye 'n' yer brother!" (If you ever come here again I'll demand Chief Hamish declare blood feud on you and your brother!)

As Dumbledore rapidly retreated back the way he'd come, he was glad the woman had stopped at her front gate. He knew that if he attacked her in the settlement, the wards based on ill-intent against a member of the Stewart Clan would quickly deal with him. She had once told him that any outsider acting with ill-intent in the village quickly found themselves stunned, bound, waking without any magical item that was on their person and in the only secure cell they had - the settlement's short-term gaol.

Once he was far enough away from her he felt safe enough to turn around so he wasn't dodging backwards, he was met by hostile stares of those who'd come out of their homes to see what was going on. Of the adults they, too, had their wands out and were glaring at him. He could see mothers chivvying their children back into the homes or away from the street between the buildings.

"Errr... Good morning," he tried to cheerily say. "It seems my good friend―"

That was as far as he got before one of the burliest of the men standing there and frowning at him took a step forward, raised his off arm and pointed to Dumbledore's right. "Th' ward line's closest tha' wey," he growled.

"Ah, yes," replied Dumbledore. "But the apparation point is that way." And gestured with his own hand behind the man.

His face turning from frown to anger, the man firmly pointed in the same direction again and said, "Wance ootside th' wards ye kin donder aroond." (Once outside the wards you can walk around.)

Not wanting to push it in a place he had no hope of being able to properly defend himself if the villagers developed a mob mentality, Dumbledore sighed and quietly said, "If you wish. I am disappointed you feel it necessary to force one of such advanced age as I to make such an unnecessary trek."

When the man was unmoved, Dumbledore gave him another disappointed look, turned and made his way up a bisecting lane-way in the direction the man indicated. He didn't need to turn around to know he was being closely followed to make sure he didn't deviate from the direction he was forced to take.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

If Dumbledore had chosen not to try and rush things and took his time to first contact his ex-deputy via floo or owl, he would have at least checked his mail. That scroll with the red seal of Hogwarts upon it that sat in the middle of his desk was a missive sent on behalf of the Chair-wizard of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Bartholomew Creston. It was to inform him that an emergency Extraordinary Meeting of the Board had been called for the Board to discuss what to do from there with he, Dumbledore, unexpectedly not being incarcerated as a result of his trial. And that he was required to attend.

That meeting was scheduled only ten minutes after he apparated out. But, even then, with the advantage of near instant travel through the floo or via apparation or portkeys, that was hardly a problem.

That meeting went ahead, as scheduled.

Dumbledore did not like the Board entering the grounds of the school and holding their meetings there as 'they could cause disruptions in the students' days' (read: they could find out about something he didn't want them finding out about), so he came up with an excuse to get them out. During Riddle's reign of terror, he had what he needed - student security. So, the meetings had been moved from Hogwarts to a boardroom set aside for them at the Ministry. He just never let them back.

As the Board waited past the appointed time before carrying on with the business of getting the meeting started, Dumbledore still had not turned up.

The chair-wizard, Creston, after starting the meeting finally said, "Well, he's either just being 'Dumbledore', or he's being arrogantly rude. You'd think, with the disruptions Lord Potter's actions have caused the school, he'd put in the effort to want to help resolve them. I say it's time to vote on whether we want to keep him as Headmaster or not."

"I so move," said one of the Board members, Thistlethwaite.

"And I second," another immediately said.

"Very well," said the Chair-wizard "I need a formal motion."

Thistlethwaite said, "I move that, 'Due to the actions of the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, that the position of Headmaster hereby be deemed vacated. And that the School Board of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry immediately seek to fill that vacancy with all haste.'"

"I second," another immediately stated.

"I'll accept that motion as two as I believe we need to vote upon the first before we vote upon the second," said the Chair-wizard "Therefore I accept that the first motion be, 'Due to the recent actions of the current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, that the position of Headmaster hereby be deemed vacated.' Member Thistlethwaite, do you so move?"

"I so move," declared Thistlethwaite.

"And I so second," said the original seconder, Paulson.

"Accepted," declared the Chair-wizard. "Do I have a speaker against?"

When he was again greeted with only silence, he said, "There being no speaker against the motion I move to the vote."

The result was a unanimous decision to declare the position of Headmaster vacant, effectively removing Dumbledore from the position.

"With the motion agreed, we now move on to the second part," said the Chair-wizard "'That the School Board of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry immediately seek to fill the vacancy of Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with all haste.'"

"I so move," declared Thistlethwaite.

"And I so second," said Paulson.

Again, there was no speaker against and the vote was unanimous 'For'.

"Then let us now move to discussing candidates and filling that position," said the Chair-wizard

Of course, it is very rare that a matter comes before the Board where the decision is not already known. And filling the position of Headmaster/mistress was no exception. Lady Griselda Marchbanks, also in attendance, was the Board's chosen successor.

However, that was not because she was the best of a bunch. No, she was the only one who could fill the position at short notice. And she and the Board all knew it. With the dismissal of Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick - the only ones, except Sprout who flat-out refused it, who had the qualifications to ascend to the position - they had to either go to a retired member of staff who had at least Head of House experience, or seek a competent replacement from overseas. Marchbanks, as a retired Head of House (Ravenclaw), plus adding to that experience as the Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority within the Ministry for the past two plus decades, was the only one both available and willing to take the role; albeit reluctantly. She was even, for a time before McGonagall was ready for the role, Acting Deputy Headmistress.

Another member immediately said, "I move that, 'Lady Griselda Anne Marchbanks, currently of the WEA, be considered for the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and be immediately confirmed into that position."

"I second," said another.

The chair-wizard immediately looked to Marchbanks and asked, "Lady Marchbanks, do you accept being considered for the role?"

"Of course I do, Bart," she snapped back. "It's been about all we've talked about for the past three days."

"Griselda," the Chair-wizard sighed. "You know we have to do this by the numbers and exactly by procedure, or Dumbledore will use it as way to have it overturned."

"Very well," she grumbled. "I so accept."

"Thank you," he said. "With the acceptance of the nomination for the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Lady Griselda Marchbanks, do we have another?"

No one made a sound.

After leaving it for a good five seconds, the Chair-wizard said, "Being no further nominations for the position of Headmistress or Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I seek a mover of a motion for Lady Marchbanks to be accepted in the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Another member who had remained relatively quiet to this point, a wizard well-known for his leanings towards the Light, stated, "I move that, 'Lady Griselda Anne Marchbanks, currently of the WEA, be accepted and appointed to the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, effective immediately."

"I second the motion," said another Light witch.

"Do I have a speaker against?" asked the Chair-wizard. When he was again greeted with only silence, he said, "There being no speaker against the motion I move to the vote."

With yet another unanimous decision in the affirmative Lady Griselda Marchbanks became Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as of that moment - Headmistress Lady Griselda Marchbanks.

"Congratulations, Headmistress Lady Marchbanks," said the Chair-wizard "On behalf of the School Board of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry I bid you success in your role and look forward to hearing from you of the great strides you are making in bringing our school back to a fully functioning educational entity."

The entire Board rose and applauded her. Marchbanks sat there, took it and grumbled about 'uppity youngsters'.

Moving on to the position of Deputy, the School Board were unsure of who to appoint to the position at that time, but knew it would not be Dumbledore or Flitwick. They considered offering the position to Sprout, but decided to leave it to Marchbanks to figure out whom that would be.

Less than fifteen minutes later and as planned prior Marchbanks flooed into Sprout's office and, accompanied by the Herbology Mistress, walked from there to the Great Hall. They were met by most of the staff still in attendance, who had been contacted earlier by Sprout by notes delivered by house elf and told to be there. Missing were Dumbledore, Trelawney, Hagrid and Filch.

There were quiet groups of students in 'street' clothes sitting in small groups at the four House tables all wondering why most of the remaining teaching staff bar Dumbledore, Trelawney and Sprout but including the new medi-wizard, had gathered in a group behind the head table.

When they saw the little elderly witch who used a cane slowly walk in, accompanied by Sprout, they knew something was in the wind. Many knew the little witch to be Lady Griselda Marchbanks of the WEA, so knew something big was about to occur.

Marchbanks, after quickly greeting the staff, stood at the head table at the Headmaster's position and quietly declared, "I, Lady Griselda Anne Marchbanks, having been appointed to the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hereby take up that position effective immediately. As I say, so must it be, so let it be written."

There was a tremendous flash of light of a powerful just-taken wizarding oath that centred on the little witch. And the castle seemed to shudder just a little. The latter was almost unnoticeable to those not in the room at the time. It was unnoticeable to those who were almost blinded by the flash of light.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

While the trip from the apparation point to McGonagall's home took him almost thirty minutes, the trip back was almost an hour and ten. It was even longer for Dumbledore than it could have been, due to him starting to feel the effects of McGonagall's attacks upon his body. He knew he had to have at least bruised his tail bone and possibly his right ankle. If he didn't want to further injure himself he had to walk carefully and, therefore, his pace and length of stride were slowed and shortened.

All up, from the time he first arrived to the time he began to approach the apparation point it would be almost two hours

From where he was trudging towards the apparation point from almost ten minutes away, a particular sensation shot through Dumbledore's body. The effect caused him to stumble so badly he almost fell flat on his face. He had just felt the wards of Hogwarts shift away from him as if ripped from his soul.

Utterly shocked to his hand-knitted woollen socks, Dumbledore regained his balance and stood there for a long moment, horrified. "No!" he exclaimed.

Then he put on a burst of speed and almost ran the remaining distance to the apparation point. It took him almost three minutes to reach it, rather than the ten it would have taken at his current pace.

He barely paused before he apparated out and away, only to feel himself bounce off a powerful ward and end up sprawled on the cobbled path just outside the front gates of Hogwarts. Both the collision with the wards and the undignified landing hurt.

Stunned almost unconscious, it took him a moment to realise what had happened and, slowly but painfully, rise to his feet. He'd just bounced off the wards of Hogwarts. And that confirmed what he dreaded; he no longer had control of the wards of the school.

"No!" he again exclaimed in horror.

He whipped his wand out and began casting diagnostics on the wards, wanting to believe there was something wrong with them, rather than he losing control of them. However, the diagnostic results all came back the same. The controller of the wards was now someone else, not he.

He had no idea he'd been seen by some of those in Hogsmeade, or that he'd been cursing up a storm as he waved his wand at the wards.

In the castle, Marchbanks had quietly said a few words to the rest of the staff and organised a meeting for later that day in her office, before leaving through the Professor's entrance and making her way towards said office. She had some 'cleaning up' to do.

However, she'd only made it a small partway there, a couple minutes, when she felt the wards inform her someone powerful had just tried to apparate into the school, but crashed into the wards.

She stopped for a moment in her walk, smirked to herself, turned around and began to walk to the Entrance Hall; her cane, tapping away each second step. Estimating the distance and paces of the individuals involved - her and Dumbledore - she knew she'd make it there in plenty of time to greet him as he walked in through the main doors. His distance was almost five times greater than her own. She knew there was no need to hurry.

Albus might think he was a master of the craft of always looking like he knew what he was doing, but she'd perfected it before he'd even attended Hogwarts as a 'Firstie'.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After the minor injuries he sustained in the Stewart Village, followed by the 'rude' bounce off the Hogwarts wards, Dumbledore was now limping a little more. However, he was ignoring the pain in his 'dignified haste' from the gates to the main doors of the castle. After all, he convinced himself, it wouldn't do for the students to actually see him running.

It wasn't as if he could, anyway. That three minutes of running from where he felt the wards ripped from his control to the apparation point outside the main entrance to the village had winded him enough he couldn't have run the distance from the gates to the doors if he'd tried. And it would leave him panting in over-exertion as he walked in through the doors if he'd succeeded. Not a good look.

Finally reaching the doors and ignoring the looks he was receiving from the students who were outside at that moment, he strode in with his head high and posture erect.

Marchbanks was waiting for him in the middle of the Entrance Hall. She stood there, leaning slightly on her ever-present cane, smirking at him as he walked in.

"Good morning, Albus," she said. "It's about time you got back from wherever you went. Were you not aware you were required by the School Board to attend an emergency Extraordinary Meeting, this morning?"

"Griselda?" he frowned. "Why are you here? And I don't have time to pander to the whining of the Board, this morning. I have far too much important and urgent business to attend."

"Oh?" she asked, as it appeared he was about to turn away and head towards 'his' office. "And what sort of important and urgent business took you away from what should be your duties to the school? After all, you'd already been away for a week. I'd think your duties in the school would be far more important than anything outside of it."

"If you must know," he snapped, "I went to see Minerva to see if we could come up with a way to get her reappointed to her proper post as Deputy Headmistress.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have things I need to do."

"I will not excuse you, Albus," she returned. "As Headmistress, I need to speak with you about what, if any, role you will continue to play in this school."

With a start of shock he stared at her. "What?" he exclaimed.

"You heard me, Albus," she smirked. "If there's a problem with your hearing then that is something we'll have to take into consideration―"

"I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Griselda," he snapped.

"No, Albus, you are not," she calmly replied. "Your failure, whether through arrogance or inattention, to attend the emergency meeting of the School Board was the last straw for them, as they say. You have been removed from the post as Headmaster and I have been appointed in your place."

"No, damn it!" he snarled. "I will not allow this! They have NO RIGHT!"

Then he spun on his heel and stormed off, towards what was now his old office.

Snickering under her breath, as she knew where the man was heading she turned to serenely follow along. Again, she knew there was no hurry as Dumbledore would not be able to get into the office until she allowed him to.

Immediately on the switching of the wards to her, the gargoyle that guarded the office stairs entrance would now only respond to her until she set a password with it that would allow the staff and anyone else to enter.

A couple of minutes later the old man stormed down the passage way that was the last until the gargoyle. As he approached, he snarled at it, "Sugar Quills!"

However, it didn't move.

Now having to stop before it, he snarled, "I said, 'Sugar Quills', blast it!"

Again, the gargoyle didn't move.

"Blood Pops!... Lemon Drops!... Ice Mice!" he finished with a yell.

Finally, after the morning he'd had let alone the previous evening in that very office, he snatched his wand out of his belt and cast an overpowered blasting curse at the base of the statue.

A split-second later he was unconscious, lying sprawled on the floor about ten feet back from where he'd stood when he'd cast. The last thing he saw was his curse reflected back at him.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Approaching about two minutes later, Marchbanks hobbled forward until she stood looking down at the old man lying so undignified on the floor. His wand was in the passageway a little apart from him, obviously released from his hand as he dropped.

Merrily cackling to herself, she summoned his wand off the floor and into her hand before she dropped it onto his chest.

"May I have a house elf, please?" she sweetly called.

With an almost silent pop one stood almost to her side. "Whats can Nippy bes doing for new Headmistress lady?" it asked.

"Nippy, is it?" she asked.

"Yes, Headmistress lady," the elf replied with a small bob.

With a pleased smirk at the elf she indicated Dumbledore and said, "Would you please pop Albus, here, to the Infirmary and into one of the beds there? Place his wand on the bedside table and inform the school medi-wizard he stunned himself trying to curse the gargoyle to the new Headmistress's office."

"Yes, Headmistress lady," the elf replied with another short bob before it and Dumbledore disappeared in a flash of elf magic light.

Chuckling to herself again, Marchbanks looked to the gargoyle and said, "I am Lady Griselda Marchbanks, new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. By tradition, I demand access to the spaces beyond you so I may take up my duties.

"The new password shall be, 'May I please pass'."

The gargoyle gave a short nod and stepped to the side. As she then stepped through the stairs beyond began to ascend, carrying her aloft.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After his meeting with Sirius, Harry escorted him back to the front door and away before going to find Hermione. She was waiting for him with Monica in the dinette.

As soon as he looked in, she looked up at him and asked, "Ready to go shopping?"

"Yep," he replied. "Where's your... Wendell?"

"He won't be coming," replied Monica. "He used the excuse he needed to go back to the surgery to catch up on office paperwork. It's the one he often uses when he doesn't want to go anywhere."

"Why not?" he asked, confused.

"Because, at his core, my husband is a coward," she replied.

Harry thought that was a bit harsh, but that it also wasn't his place to say anything so didn't. It didn't seem to bother Hermione. If anything, she smirked at her mother.

Less than two minutes later they were downstairs, out through the connecting door to the garage and into Monica's BMW.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Three and a half hours later, Harry came staggering in through the same door in deep shock.

Not even feeling as if he had the energy to get up to his room, he made it as far as the upper ground floor before he collapsed on one of the armchairs in the parlour and groaned.

Hermione and Monica had followed him in and up and looked at him with matching smirks.

"Whatever is the matter, Harry?" asked Hermione, overly sweetly. "You look as if you've gone five rounds with a hippogriff."

"You two are evil," he moaned. "It was inhuman what you two made me do!"

That had both Granger ladies openly grin back.

He'd just closed his eyes in bliss at being able to just sit and relax for a while when Monica said, "Why don't you go up and change into a set of those clothes you just bought. Wearing transfigured clothes from wizarding robes can't be all that comfortable.

"I'm still being bossed around?" he whined, starting to sit up straighter. "I thought turning Harry into a dress-up Barbie doll was done with!"

Not waiting for a response he groaned as he rose to his feet and trudged his way to the stairs. If he'd looked back he'd have seen the current female auror stationed with them suddenly fade into view as a disillusionment charm faded away. And all three ladies grinned at one another.

"Put on the light green collared T-shirt, black jeans and trainers, Harry," Hermione called up the stairs. "And grab the dark green V-necked sweater if you're a little chilly!"

Once they heard Harry's door shut up the stairs, all three broke out into laughter.

"He's right," grinned the auror. "You two are evil."

"Oh, diddums!" giggled Hermione. "He's just a boy. It's in their nature to complain about clothes shopping."

"Tea?" asked Monica.

"Yes, please," said Hermione. "You'll be joining us ladies, Henrietta," she added to the auror.

"Well, I suppose Tomas will be alright on his own," she replied. "He is, after all - as you put it - just a boy."

With the three laughing they went to the kitchen.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

In her new office, Marchbanks set to work. First, she had the elves clear out all of Dumbledore's personal effects and take them to the private apartment of the Transfiguration Professor. Then had the elves collect her own from her private residence where they were already packed and waiting and put them in their place.

Once everything was as she wanted it, she went down the stairs to the office.

As with the Head's apartment, she had the elves clear out all of Dumbledore's personal effects, including Fawkes's roost, and had them moved to the Transfiguration Professor's office next to the same apartment. And was surprised when a lot of things remained she thought were the old man's personal effects.

A quick call for an elf and asking for an explanation, she was told that none of what was left was actually the Headmaster's personal property.

"It belongs to the school?" she asked.

"Not all, Headmistress lady," replied the elf.

"What doesn't?" she asked. "And do you know who it belongs to?"

The elf then indicated various things around the office and to whom they rightfully belonged. She was shocked. She had no idea that, according to what she'd just learned, Dumbledore was such a thief.

"Alright," she sighed. "The possessions that rightfully belong to each person, I want you to clearly label with a name for that person. I then want you to create for me a written list of the lot. And, finally, you can shift it to secure storage. Then I am to be the only one to know where that is and I am to be the only one to be able to have you bring something back out of it.

"After it's all done, come and give me the list and let me know it's done," she instructed. "But, not a word about this to anyone else, got that?"

"Yes, Headmistress lady," the little elf replied before it popped away. Suddenly, all the items that had been identified as belonging to others also quickly flashed away.

Less than a minute later the elf was back and handing her a scroll, she asked it to wait. Unrolling it she found a detailed list with items rightfully belonging to six different individuals of more than two dozen items. Well over half of them belonged to Lord Potter, mostly books.

Rolling it up back up with a sigh, she placed it in a pocket of her robes and then set about, with the help of the elves, reorganising the office. She needed that done before she could move her own office furniture, supplies and items in.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

More than half the castle away, Dumbledore suddenly woke to find himself staring at an amused medi-wizard with a wand in his hand. He was lying on a bed in the Infirmary.

"What happened and who're you?" he immediately demanded.

"In order, you were delivered by an elf to the bed here, unconscious due to a reflected Bombarda curse, I believe," replied the wizard. "And, secondly, I'm Medi-wizard Robinson. I'm the new medi-wizard for the school."

"Where's Pomfrey?" Dumbledore demanded.

With the smile on Robinson's face suddenly dropping away, he stared back and replied, "She's in Saint Mungo's and quit. I replaced her. I believe you were told that, last night."

As Dumbledore struggled to sit up, Robinson said, "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

"You don't get to order me around," Dumbledore snapped back. "Where's my wand and glasses?"

"As the school medi-wizard, when it comes to the inhabitants of this school I most certainly do get to order you around when it comes to your health," he replied. "My word is law in matters of health. It's in my contract.

"As for your wand and glasses, if you looked, you'd see they're on the bedside table."

Quickly picking up his glasses, donning them and then grabbing his wand - the same wand that hadn't worked right for him since he'd recovered it from that infernal Bones woman - he hopped off the side of the bed and staggered as he tried to take a step.

"I did warn you," said the medi-wizard. But he didn't reach for him to help steady him. As far as Robinson was concerned, if the old fool wouldn't do as he was told then whatever injuries he sustained falling over after being told not to get out of bed were his own damned fault.

Dumbledore snarled something unintelligible back, braced himself up and made his way from the wing without even bothering to thank the man.

As he walked he felt his energy returning. He also noticed he no longer felt the pain in his half-twisted ankle, in his left hip near his tailbone or right shoulder he'd developed as a result of Minerva's 'unwarranted attack', getting bounced off the wards or landing on the cobblestones outside the main gate. So, the medi-wizard had at least healed him.

Arriving back at the gargoyle, Dumbledore demanded entrance. The gargoyle ignored him.

As he stood there, fuming, it was some seconds later before the gargoyle suddenly stepped aside.

"About time," he harrumphed

Not even waiting for the stairs to raise him he climbed them to the top. And then tried to open the door.

"Try knocking!" he heard firmly called from within as he drew his wand to magically unlock the door.

With his temper again ratcheting up, he knocked and then tried the door. Again, that didn't work.

Then he heard, "Come in, Albus!"

This time, the door opened for him.

He'd made it only a few steps within when he noticed the major changes and stopped dead in his tracks.

Seeing him suddenly stop and appear shocked, Marchbanks called from where she was sitting behind the desk, "What's the matter, Albus?"

He couldn't even call it his desk as that desk was not the one she was sitting behind where his desk should sit.

"Do you not know where to find your office?" she smirked.

"This is my office," he snapped. "What have―"

"No, Albus," she grinned back, speaking over him. "This is my office. I told you back in the Entrance Hall, when you were being rude then, that you're not the Headmaster any more.

"As I'm in need of a new Professor of Transfiguration, you hold a mastery in the subject and have already taught it once before, that's your job for the moment."

"And I told you, Griselda," he snarled. "I'm not surrendering the post of Headmaster.

Standing up straighter and appearing quite pious he said, "I have tenure. I cannot be fired."

She openly laughed at him. "Oh, Albus," she chortled. "That's quite amusing."

When he appeared confused in his anger, she explained, "You have tenure as a professor; not as Headmaster. You've not been fired from Hogwarts. You've been replaced as Headmaster. You're currently welcome to take your place as Professor of Transfigurations or quit. For the moment, that choice is yours.

"Trust me; very careful research was conducted to ensure we were right in this."

"We?" he carefully but more quietly asked.

"We, Albus," she confirmed. "The School Board wanted to make sure to what limits they could go to get you out of control of Hogwarts. That's when it was discovered your tenure only applies to your position as a professor, not your position as Headmaster.

"Your position as Headmaster only occurred after you convinced old Headmaster Dippet and the then School Board to no longer offer tenure to professors. Your new position as Headmaster, therefore, did not fall under the clause of tenure you held as a tenured Professor of the time.

"As such, they could remove you from the post of Headmaster. With Minerva no longer permitted to teach, that freed up the post of Professor of Transfiguration for you. That's the position you're now, once again, filling.

"You'll find your personal effects already in your apartments and office." With a gesture of dismissal, she added, "You may go, Albus. I have a great deal of work ahead of me." Then she chose to ignore him.

Feeling impotent in his internalised rage, Dumbledore spun about, ready to head out the door again. His own recollection of the rule regarding tenure-ship showed she was right.

"Oh," she said, just as Dumbledore reached the door. When he spun back to glare at her she said, "And don't think you'll be offered Deputy Headmaster or Head of Gryffindor back, either. As your tenure-ship doesn't apply to either of those positions, I have in mind others for those."

With a silent snarl of rage he stormed from the office, not even bothering to slam the door behind him. He just left it open.

Marchbanks gave a flick of her wand and the door closed and latched. Then let loose a full-throated laugh for someone of her age. It came out as a cackle.

"Was that absolutely necessary?" asked one of the portraits in a chiding voice. None of them had spoken until that point.

Glancing up she saw it was old Eupraxia Mole. The one, she remembered, who never spoke to Dumbledore.

"Yes, dear," she replied. "Albus needs to learn his place. If I tried to be gentle about it he'd just pretend I didn't say anything, ignore me as he would usually try to and fill the air with platitudes. He needs a firm hand."

Phinneas Black said, "If I remember correctly, you were a Slytherin, were you not?"

"Ravenclaw," she replied. "You're thinking of my sister. I was also Head of House for Ravenclaw for a while and Acting Deputy Headmistress for a time, too."

"Pity," he said. "Your move with the School Board was worthy of a Slytherin."

"Just because one was not sorted into that House, does not presuppose one was not worthy of that House, dear," she smirked. "I simply did not want to be in the same House as my sister, at the time. And the Hat acquiesced to my wish."

"All too true," the Hat suddenly said from off its perch on one of the shelves. "And I still say you would have been a great Slytherin."

"Oh," snorted Phinneas in amusement. "A true Slytherin, then."

She didn't bother to reply and neither did the Hat.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

Later in the morning, in the clothes Hermione had 'ordered' him to wear, Harry felt he had finally 'recovered' from the horrifying experience of being taken clothes shopping by the Granger women. That was also when Wendell returned from his and his wife's dental surgery.

Harry immediately took him aside, glared at the man and asked, "What did I ever do to you?"

Wendell grinned back and asked, "I take it shopping did not go well?"

"Oh, it went well enough," he grumbled. "For the ladies, that is. For me, I've never felt so much like an... an... object... as I did today.

"They treated me like a 'dress up doll'. 'Try this on, Harry.' 'Hold your arms out while I check to see the fit, Harry.' 'Take that off and try this colour, Harry. That colour doesn't suit you.' 'No, Harry, not that. Try this, instead.' 'How do those pants feel in the crotch, Harry?' 'Slowly turn around, Harry. I want to see how well those look fitting your bum.'"

By the time he'd ranted out, Harry was looking a little morose while Wendell was trying... and almost succeeding... not to laugh.

"It's not funny," Harry moped. "They also don't seem to understand that, if Cousin Andromeda gets her hands on me and has me taking potions that are meant to fix my size and weight, all those clothes aren't going to fit me any more within a few weeks. Then we're just going to have to do it all over again.

"When I tried to tell them that buying that much clothing was just a waste of money, Hermione said, 'If you have that much money you can think the cost of erecting expensive wards on my parents' home was insignificant, then you have more than enough to buy two full wardrobes.' I think she was actually using the opportunity to punish me for something I did that wasn't wrong for me to do!"

That was it for Wendell. Harry's all-too-accurate impression of his daughter broke the dam that he was struggling to maintain to hold his laughter in. He was now leaning against the wall, trying to hold himself up, as he was letting forth with great gales of laughter. He even had tears flowing from his eyes.

Harry crossed his arms and stood there, staring at the man, both annoyed and not a little hurt by his host's amusement at his earlier 'predicament'.

"Oh, God!" Wendell managed to get out after a good deal of seconds. "Tha... that impression of Hermione was bloody hil-ar-ious!" And lost himself to laughter for a little while longer.

Harry gave a huff of annoyance and headed outside onto the back patio to mull over his thoughts.

When he thought it over in his own mind he could see how it looked from Wendell's point of view. If something like that had happened to someone like Neville, he'd probably be laughing his arse off, too.

Wendell found him outside about ten minutes later.

Sitting in the other half of the pair of patio chairs of which Harry was sitting on, he said, "I'm sorry, Harry. I should have warned you."

"Warned me?" he asked.

Nodding, Wendell replied, "I know what Monica is like when it comes to clothes shopping and I knew Hermione was turning out similar. I should have joined you so I could rein them both in.

"I didn't because... well, I wanted you to experience what it was like."

Curious, Harry asked, "Why?"

Wendell thought how to answer for a bit before he said, "I wanted to see how well you'd handle it."

Harry's expression of curiosity deepened into puzzlement. "Hunh?"

"Harry," his host kindly said. "For someone who is obviously incredibly smart - you had to be to pull off your fake persona for so long at such a young age and not have anyone figure it out - on one subject, at least, you're also not a little dense."

"Alright," Harry gave a slow nod, still confused. "What am I missing?"

"It's not your fault, mind," said Wendell. "By the sounds of it... and from what little the aurors, you and Hermione have let slip... you were abused while under the supposed care of your relatives."

Harry's expression immediately turned to one Wendell would call 'guarded'.

"And that's one example of what I'm talking about," he continued, ignoring it. "You never refer to them as your 'aunt and uncle'; you refer to them as 'my relatives' directly, or 'the Dursleys' indirectly. You refer to your cousin as 'their son'; while referring to your distantly-related relatives on the Black side as your 'cousins'. You've even hinted obliquely at how they've treated you, almost slipping up and telling us some of the horrid things they've done to you.

"So, let me ask you directly, did or have they ever shown you love?"

Relaxing a bit, Harry thought about it and replied, "I saw them say they loved each other many times."

"And by your answer I'm also hearing that they never directed that love towards you."

Harry frowned and Wendell could see the boy also defensively curl up. "No."

"The fault for that lays entirely with them, Harry," Wendell gently said. "Denying a child love is simply another form of child abuse; one that's emotional, in nature.

"Why it's considered child abuse and not just neglect is because the child learns how to recognise love directed to them by others by the love directed to them by those who are supposed to care for them. And it's from experiencing that love that they learn to love back.

"What you also need to understand... and accept... is that there are people who do love you, right now. I have no doubt that your parents loved you, very much. After all, they gave their lives to protect you so that you could live.

"But, there are people, in the here and now, that also love you. Your godfather, Sirius, is clearly one of those. And... so is my daughter."

Harry was beginning to think of his relationship with his godfather and the man's focus on him when he heard Wendell mention Hermione. It was such a shock he tried to whip around so fast to look at the man he almost toppled himself off the chair.

Managing to unconsciously catch himself in time he stared, almost horrified, at his friend's father.

"I thought so," said a satisfied Wendell. "You didn't know."

"No!" blurted Harry. "W-we're just friends!"

"You're lying to yourself, Harry. You just don't realise it," Wendell firmly stated back. "You don't see it because, as I said, you lacked love being directed at you as a child. Sirius loves you, Hermione loves you and I dare say there are others I don't know about yet.

"Don't try and deny it; try and accept it. Don't just think me wrong until you've given yourself time to seriously think about it.

"You're a smart young man. Analyse it, then reach your conclusion. Otherwise, all you're doing is leaping to a conclusion before you've analysed the evidence. Isn't that something you accuse those in the wizarding world of doing? Leaping to conclusions based on opinions rather than confirmed facts?"

When Harry didn't answer, but appeared to be deep in thought, Wendell said, "I'll leave you to it." He then rose from his seat and returned inside.

Wendell didn't know if Harry heard him or not because the boy-man didn't react. But he knew, somewhere in the young man's mind, that he did.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ

After finally going to his 'new' office, the one that was his back until he became Headmaster in 1969, Dumbledore walked in and sighed. All his personal effects from out of his office were now in there. The larger items were standing on their own; the smaller items were all in open-topped boxes. Even his desk from out of his... the Head's... office was there, having replaced Minerva's. So was his chair.

After a long and disappointed sigh before drawing the Elder Wand out of his belt, he began rearranging things back to how he preferred it. The desk was moved to allow light from the window not to fall directly on the desktop, his office chair tucked in behind it. This then necessitated the moving of the shelving.

Next he moved his small tables into places he wanted them and placed chairs either side of one. He'd often sit on those chairs at that table with a friend, just to discuss matters. With the office being somewhat smaller than the Headmaster's office some of his little tables that used to only have trinkets placed on them had to be removed completely.

Once the furniture was laid out he then began to empty the boxes of their contents onto the desk, the shelves and the occasional tables.

As he worked he soon realised he was missing what he considered some of his things. Most of the important books were gone; so were other small items he'd acquired over the years. But, more importantly, so were the little trinkets that were monitors he used to monitor young Harry - his health, his mental state, even the scrying device he could use to find the boy if he was to ever 'disappear' that was based on the boy's blood.

He became so focused on his 'Harry Potter' monitors missing, the reason for why the items, including the others, were missing never crossed his mind.

Angrily, he called for an elf. It arrived with a small pop of displaced air.

"Yes, Perfesser Whiskers?" it asked.

"It's Head... damn it," he began. "Where are the rest of my personal effects?"

The elf quickly looked around and replied, "Theys be in Perfesser Whiskerses apartment."

Snapping his gaze to the door leading into the apartment, he took the few steps needed to reach the door, opened it and entered.

After his eyes quickly swept the room he yelled, "Elf!"

"Yes, Perfesser Whiskers?" the little elf asked. It was standing in the doorway.

"I mean the rest of my things from out of my office!" he snapped at it.

"Headmistress lady said to elveses to bring all Perfesser Whiskerses thingsies to Perfesser Whiskerses new office. Elveses dids that."

"There were things in my office that are not here!" snapped the old man. "Where are they?"

"There were thingsies in Headmistress lady's office that were not Perfesser Whiskerses thingsies," replied the elf. "Headmistress lady told elveses to puts them elsewhere and only Headmistress lady to know. Headmistress lady told elves not to tell."

"Bring them to me," he ordered.

"Headmistress lady be tellings elveses not to brings dem to anyone else but Headmistress lady," replied the elf. "Elveses be obeying new Headmistress lady, not Perfesser Whiskers."

"Damn it!" snarled Dumbledore. "GET OUT!" he bellowed.

The little elf popped away without another word.

_‗_

―==(oIo)==―

ˇ