Chapter 091

Instead he'd brought his occlumency barriers up full and was otherwise analysing every communication they sent his way. Even their body language gave every sign they were expecting him to attack either or both of them at any moment. And it took him the blink of an eye after realising that to next realise that's exactly what they wanted him to do. He was not going to do that.

Flitwick then took it up from there. "As you would be aware from the First Task, the person purporting to be Professor Alastor Moody - you know, Headmaster Dumbledore, the man you claimed to be a personal friend of many decades, so should know each and every one of his mannerisms and little idiosyncrasies? - proved to not be Alastor Moody, after all. The real Alastor Moody was found locked in a multi-compartment trunk in his office and is currently recovering from his ordeal at Saint Mungo's."

Sprout said, "I visited with him when I visited Poppy, Headmaster Dumbledore. I will not repeat the language he used, but I assure you the name Albus Dumbledore now sits a fair way up on his personal 'People I Owe a Visit' list. From the sounds of other names on that list, it is not a nice one to be on.

"So, of course, we are also down, yet again, a Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Alastor refuses to return to - or, should I say, start at his position as - DADA Professor."

"But filling the position of Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts should not be such a continuous problem from now on," said Flitwick. "We were visited by individuals from the Department of Mysteries yester-evening. They would not tell any of us why they were here but, after a quick request by myself, they found and removed the embedded curse that was on the position. I was also told it was quite easy to find and remove and they wondered out loud why you'd never removed it, yourself. And secondly, without being asked this time, they banished Cuthbert Binns on to his... 'Next Great Adventure', as you would put it.

"In total we are down a Deputy Head, three Heads of Houses, the Transfiguration Professor, Potions Professor, DADA Professor, History of Magic Professor and CoMC Professor. The Board, working with Saint Mungo's, have already appointed a replacement for Poppy. That happened within two days of the First Task."

That angered the old man enough for him to comment. "I... hire and fire staff, not the School Board."

"That is incorrect, Headmaster Dumbledore," Sprout corrected. "The actual ruling states the current Head, whether they be Headmaster or Headmistress, hires and fires staff. At the time, you were suspended and not legally recognised as a Headmaster. And, using the fact she was in effective control of Hogwarts by declaring the entirety of it as a crime scene, by law Amelia Bones declared herself Acting Headmistress. By that same evening the School Board ratified that by proclaiming her Headmistress pro Tempore.

"Madam Bones then used her authority as Headmistress to appoint the new on-staff medi-wizard for Hogwarts. His name's Peter Robinson. As soon as it was apparent Poppy would not be returning, he was offered and accepted the permanent position. His contract is such that you cannot just fire him. Your decision has to be valid and must be ratified by the School Board. He is also in a position to overrule you on any and all medical grounds."

"Getting back to the point of vacant positions, Headmaster Dumbledore," said Flitwick, "There are other members of staff who are also considering their own positions at Hogwarts. Quite a few were not happy to learn what you... sorry, someone... did to Poppy and Minerva.

"As you have... however... escaped your own incarceration sentence, you should expect further vacancies to appear."

"Who?" Dumbledore snapped.

"That information was provided me in confidence, Headmaster Dumbledore," Flitwick firmly replied. "I intend to keep that confidence."

Knowing pushing to be provided that information would get him nowhere, Dumbledore bit his tongue and didn't. But, even with his Occlumency barriers up full, he was still rapidly approaching the point he'd still lose his temper.

"Next item," said Sprout. "With so many missing Professors, especially from the core subjects, the School Board made the decision, supported by the Acting Headmistress, to suspend all lessons until enough Professors were available to recommence the absolute majority of classes.

"Because of that, with Madam Bones's permission as then Headmistress pro Tempore and the authorisation of the School Board... reached, I believe, in a unanimous decision... the students have been offered the opportunity to return to their homes until classes are able to restart. The School Board will be deciding when that date will be. There are quite a few students who have accepted that option and have already left. That is especially apparent for those students who are of-age and do not need the permission of their parents or guardians. Many more will be leaving today or over the weekend now that their permission slips from their parents or guardians are arriving."

"No!" Dumbledore snapped. "I will not allow this!"

"The decision is not yours to make, Headmaster Dumbledore," said Sprout. "The decision has already been made and is already being implemented."

"Has Harry Potter claimed to have received permission from his guardian?" the old man demanded.

"You appear to have forgotten, Headmaster Dumbledore, that you lawfully declared Lord Harrison James Potter as of-age," she snapped back. "As the contract of the Tri-Wizard Tournament stated that only of-age students could compete... a contract you co-signed, I believe... the moment you told him he had to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament you declared him of-age.

"Therefore, Lord Potter did not need a signed permission slip. He authorised himself to leave. And, I believe, he has already departed."

When Flitwick was about to confirm Harry had left, Dumbledore surged to his feet, lean almost completely over his desk and all but screamed at Sprout, "You stupid bitch! Do you realise what you've done?"

Before the second sentence even finished leaving Dumbledore's mouth, Flitwick snapped his fingers. Instantly, a house elf appeared next to his right hand with his goblin-forged battle-axe.

"Harry Potter is never to be allowed―" was as far as Dumbledore got before he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye of Flitwick leaping to his feet with what was clearly a heavy martial weapon in his hand.

Immediately shutting up, Dumbledore instinctively leapt backwards before ending up tripping over his own office chair and landing in a heap behind his desk.

By the time he hit the ground, Flitwick was standing on his desk with one of the blades of his heirloom double-headed battle-axe buried at least five inches into the wood of the top of the desk, right where the blotter would be. Flitwick was leaning on the haft of it and leaning right over Dumbledore's edge of the desk with a look of total fury on his face.

Dumbledore was shocked into silence. His heart was hammering away in his chest and he realised he had just soiled himself.

And into that silence that appeared to stretch on for minutes, but was only a few seconds in real time, Flitwick snarled down at the old man, "If you ever speak to a member of staff like that again, let alone a student, you won't even have time to apologise as I will have already killed you!

"Have I made myself perfectly and profoundly clear to you, Albus Dumbledore; you conceited, self-praising, hubris-riddled, monomaniacal, desiccated old smear of garbraek snot?"

Looking up at Flitwick from where he was uncomfortably sprawled on the floor, Dumbledore was reminded of just why the little, normally placid, Charms master won seven straight International Dueling Championships. It wasn't his size or his knowledge, it was his heritage. Goblins, contrary to their small stature, were incredibly fast. It mattered not whether it was with their feet, their bladed weapons, or their wands - as normally in Flitwick's case. If a blade-bearing goblin got within ten to fifteen feet of you and that goblin was focused on killing you, your chances of survival were less than that of a stunned cow within the same distance of the maw of a dragon. The dragon, after all, might not be hungry.

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