[24]:Beauxbatons champion

~ I have added this Fanfic to my Patreon. If you'd like to read advanced chapters, feel free to check it out!

~ I'm planning to increase the number of advanced chapters to +50 this weekend!

~ I've edited some of the previous chapters to remove anything you might consider "cringe" or "unnecessary." I'll continue reviewing them from time to time!

~ Very soon, we'll return to releasing two chapters daily, including bonus privileges for Power Stone contributions

<><><><><><><>

"Of course, ambassador," Dumbledore replied, even as the vein in Fudge's temple began to pulse. "Please have Madame Maxine provide you with a copy of Fleur's transcripts. I will instruct my deputy Headmistress to send an owl with her letter to you within the next few days. We would be happy to have the Beauxbatons champion attend our school this year."

Although he was conversing with Dumbledore, Jean-Sebastian kept an eye on Fudge, watching the man's displeasure deepen as the expression of fury stole over his face. He was intelligent enough to hold his tongue this time, but it did not take a genius to understand just exactly what Fudge objected to about Fleur's attendance at England's premier school. It was time to inform the Minister of exactly how things stood.

Jean-Sebastian allowed an expression of intense dislike and distaste to spread over his face as he glared at the Minister, noting the corresponding expression directed back at him. He smirked inwardly, perversely entertained at his ability to provoke a negative response in the pompous git.

"Minister, allow me to make myself rightly understood. Harry Potter is now my ward, and he and my daughter Fleur will be attending Hogwarts together this year. The ICW has voted overwhelmingly to support Harry—and his godfather, I might add—and any attempt from you or your government to undermine him or make trouble with me or my family will lead to increased tensions with France and isolation from the rest of the wizarding world. I suggest you tread softly…

"Or perhaps it's my daughter who has set off this latest fit of temper?"

"Your daughter has no business attending Hogwarts," the Minister blustered. "Our premier school is reserved for our best and brightest students, not for some… foreign—"

"I suggest you stop right there," Jean-Sebastian interrupted, his voice as cold as ice. "Do not think me ignorant of your petty British bigotry and your contempt for anyone who does not meet your pathetic standards of race and blood purity—your attempts to hide your objections behind the veneer of foreign discrimination are insulting and do not do you any favors. The fact that many of your compatriots meet your exceedingly high standards for blood purity, bigotry, and contemptible snobbishness means nothing to me—or any other right-thinking person for that matter.

"Fleur is a highly skilled and competent witch, and regardless of your narrow-mindedness, she is every bit as human as you or I. She is a champion of that cursed tournament you held in this very country for Merlin's sake!"

"And we all know how she did there!" Fudge snapped, his mouth twisted into an unpleasant sneer.

"Better, I suspect, than a squib like you would," Jean-Sebastian spat, feeling an almost overwhelming urge to hex the man to oblivion.

The Minister's eyes bugged out and he appeared ready to fling another retort, but Dumbledore stepped in to try to diffuse the situation.

"Minister, ambassador, I hardly think this is constructive. Cornelius, you are well aware that Hogwarts' charter does not allow for prospective students to be discriminated against due to blood status, race, nationality, or any other factor. Legally, if I have openings available in her year—which I do—I cannot refuse Miss Delacour entrance into our school—and I would not do so if the opportunity was there. She is a fine young woman, and you are well aware of the reasons for her performance in the tournament and the interference by Bartemius Crouch Jr. I have no doubt she will be a fine asset to Hogwarts and a pleasant addition to our ranks. Do not make this situation any more difficult by bringing up antiquated notions of blood purity or arguments regarding the status of Veela, which is what we all know this is about!"

Certain the Minister was about to burst a vein in his head, Jean-Sebastian regarded the minister with an eye of complete loathing, daring the man to do his worst. It was only a short time, though, before Fudge appeared to master himself and leave well enough alone. It was the first good decision the man had made the entire day.

"Fine!" Fudge spat out. "Your daughter may attend Hogwarts with the attention seeker. Now leave me—I have much work to do."

Jean-Sebastian stood, but he was unable to leave without a parting shot. He loomed over the Minister, aware his height and furious manner were intimidating to the hapless Fudge, who shrunk away in response.

"Let me be rightly understood," Jean-Sebastian growled in a voice absolutely dripping with menace, "I will brook no interference by you or anyone in your government. Don't try me, Minister," the word spat with every ounce of disdain Jean-Sebastian could muster, "you will not enjoy the results."

He turned and stormed from the office and through the Minister's waiting room, beckoning to Harry as he strode past Fudge's startled assistant. Harry took one look at Jean-Sebastian's face and fell in behind him meekly, but although Jean-Sebastian did not want the boy to cower or feel intimidated, it was several minutes' walk down the hallways and up the stairwells of the Ministry building before his Occlumency skills were able to reassert themselves and he was able to master his towering fury toward the impotent and useless British Minister. Something would have to be done about the man, or the war was as good as lost already.

They had reached the Atrium before Jean-Sebastian finally slowed down and turned to Harry, noting the expression of confused apprehension on the boy's face. He smiled at Harry to show him he was not angry, reflecting that something would also have to be done about the boy's timidity and lack of confidence—such traits would do him no good in the face of the vile madman Voldemort.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but it appears your Minister is adept in bringing out the worst in me," Jean-Sebastian commented with a wry smile.

Harry's eyes lit up in relief and he returned the smile tentatively. "I can certainly understand that, sir."

"Now, Harry," Jean-Sebastian admonished, "what did we agree about calling me 'sir'?"

<><><><><><><>

~ If you like the story, please leave a review!

~ Push the Story forward with your [Power

Stones]

~ (Soon +50) Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon!

https://p-atreon.com/Nehafanfic

(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)