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Don’t be surprised: “bla” means speech ‘bla’ means thought from now on

July 13, Little Whinging – the playground

Harry sat on the swing and brooded. Just yesterday, he'd been to the Ministry for a second time and found much information about his Family and a very special kind of sweet: the Fudge. The things he read were maddening beyond anything. Just the amount of times the Ministry had tried to seize his Family Fortune (43) – but astonishingly enough Dumbledore spearheaded the Opposition.

Harry didn't have many illusions about Dumbledore, but the question remained: Why would Dumbledore (of all people) say no to the attempted seizure? What did he gain?

It became clear to Harry, he had to visit Gringotts. The problem was in getting there. He'd heard about Apparition and his Portkey - was absolutely useless in daytime. There was just no telling, whether he'd bump into someone at the Ministry - invisibility cloak or not.

He was almost angry enough to attempt apparition on his own. But what if something happened? Dumbledore would be with the first to know – and certainly the worst. However, the problem remained: How to get to London without anyone getting any the wiser? Muggle Transportation took its time, Wizarding Transportation was out of reach and Sirius asked for contact only in an emergency. But what if this was an emergency? What if … whatever happened to his fortune? Assuming he (still) had any. Ah, it always came back to the stupid grown-ups and their ever-present caution. Harry snorted. More like their penchant of keeping things from those who deserve.

So Muggle Transportation was the way to go. Harry jumped from the swing and walked to the bus stop. He searched for his wand and found it – 'In case of an emergency" he thought – as well as the new Two-way-mirror.

On his way he heard the unmistakeable voices of his part-time tormentors.

„The little one squealed like a pig when you shoved your fist under his nose, Big D," which was followed by some grunts you could probably classify as laughter. To Harry, it sounded like someone was desperately trying to sound cool but failed spectacularly.

„Yeah and he almost looked like that freak cousin of yours. What happened to him anyway? We don't see him around anymore."

Harry almost had to laugh. They just had to turn around and there he would be. When he reached the bus stop he sat down and started to snicker. Huge D and his fellow thugs still complained like the little children they were.

As he read the timetable he came to the conclusion that he had to wait for the biggest part of an hour before he could enter the bus to London.

'Great! Maybe I should call for those idiots to run some of the time off,' Harry thought. In the distance he heard the church bell chiming a quarter past two.

When Harry heard the bell chiming three o'clock he could see the oversized form of Dudley coming back alone. He reached the Bus stop, acknowledged Harry with a grunt and sat down. Minutes went by.

„They" and Harry knew instantly, who Dudley was talking about „are trying to get me into trouble. I've got warnings from the police. One of these days I'm going to ditch them."

Harry turned his head. Dudley's posture spoke of defeat and rejection.

'Yeah, right. You knew what kind of persons they were,' Harry thought.

„Aw, that's bad, huge D," the Sarcasm dripped from Harry's words, „but wait, I know just the thing: change yourself, become a better person and find some new friends."

Dudley grew angrier and angrier. But then he deflated again.

„As if you'd know anything about having friends. I knew they weren't the best guys around. But at least they accepted me. I trusted them. And now…"

Harry felt thunderstruck. If that didn't describe his situation, he didn't know what would. Then Suzy's image floated to the front of his mind as he remembered her words after her huge fight with Ginny.

"I can see you now, Harry. You'll need me and I'll help you as long as you want me to."

And he was nearly separated from this angel? What was he thinking? Then again: what was Hannah thinking?

The dropping weight of his wand startled Harry out of his reverie. Whatever he did, he couldn't fasten his wand to his arm. Oh well, another thing to get, once he left Gringotts. Assuming he (still) had any money. It made him shiver, just thinking about it. But then – why did Dudley shiver too? His finances should be in order…

Then Harry realised that it really got much colder. Now that Harrys Brains were connected to the here and now he recognized that cold. He'd felt it before – at the end of his third year. And that meant one thing:

A Dementor!

In Little Whinging?

Harry's mind went into overdrive, 'What happens here? What could Voldemort get from attacking me with these things here? How could he have done this? Or is it the Ministry? Is it Dumbledore?"

Regardless, he had to do something. Dudley already panicked and took swings into the air.

„D, CALM DOWN NOW!" Harry shouted. „YOU DON'T GET THEM PHYSICALLY!"

„THEN DO SOMETHING! YOU'RE THE FREAK!"

Harrys Head whipped from side to side looking for the Dementor. Then they glided into view, not one but two Dementors, leaving a layer of ice behind. Harry's wand found its way into his hand.

„EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Of course, his first attempt had to fizzle. The second Dementor just started to leech on Dudley. Harry remembered the moment when Sirius told him he was on his side. He could almost feel the amount of love in that moment.

„EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Success – Prongs chased the first Dementor away. The second one though had just finished leeching the good memories from Dudley and it looked like it was going to finish him off.

„Hey! Don't follow him," Harry shouted to his patronus and pointed in Dudley's direction. „This way!"

And his patronus turned indeed around and charged the second Dementor. For a second, it looked like it was going to gore it with its antlers. At the last moment though, the Dementor twisted and floated out of harm's way. And it wasn't a second too soon as Dudley lay shivering on the floor. Shivering violently. Harry had seen this once: when he had saved his Godfather.

'Damn, that was close." Harry thought. His eyes fell onto Dudley's massive frame. 'Oh man, I hope he gets up."

„Get up, D! Come on; don't make me carry you…"

But Dudley was just shivering. Harry heaved a frustrated sigh. On some days it just didn't pay off to get out of bed.

Little Whinging, Privet Drive No. 4, 30 minutes later

On some days it really didn't pay off to get out of bed. Vernon was ranting and raving, moving this way and that, punctuating each important sentence with a pumped fist, then closing in on Harry, then turning around. Finally, Harry's had enough.

„SHUT UP, VERNON!" Harry roared.

Vernon whirled around. Harry saw the surprise in his eyes, a good dollop of fear and the growing anger. He knew he had to talk; he had to start talking quickly.

„Yes, the Dementors were there for me, not for Dudley; yes, they are magic things; yes, you don't want anything to do with it. SO WHAT! GET USED TO IT!" Harry shouted. „As long as I'm here, you have to expect this shit to happen. By the way, a little gratitude would definitely go a long way to see you and yours saved again. But noo, you bitch around like a Hollywood Diva on vacation. NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: AS LONG AS I AM HERE, I COULD CHOOSE TO PROTECT YOU FROM MY ENEMIES! BUT YOU'RE NOT GIVING ME ENOUGH REASON TO DO SO!"

It was then that he felt a little sting on the back of his skull. Then he saw Petunia with the wide, afraid eyes and the frying pan, the heavily dented frying pan.

Vernon took that moment, „You choose? YOU CHOOSE TO PROTECT US?! After all this years, this is how you repay us? We took you in – out of the goodness of our hearts, we clothe you, we feed you …"

„The cupboard under the stairs, the clothes Dudley grew too fat for and the scraps left over from mealtimes? Some goodness of your heart that is, Vernon. I didn't ask you to do so. I was left on your door, not able to talk, walk, or somehow make you do my wish. And this isn't my wish. I don't want to be here, I don't want to endure your bitching, your beatings, and your belittlements. Yes, this is how I choose to repay your generosity: I BLOODY SAVED YOUR SON, YOU FOOL!"

And around Harry a bubble seemed to grow. A dark bubble, so black, it sucked all the light in. Vernon was shocked. His head swivelled around, looking for an escape – but he found none. Had he finally pushed his nephew too far?

And right in that moment – impossible – an owl landed on the table between them. It bore a slightly bored expression. When it had looked around, it squawked as if to say "Well, get on with it, take this stupid letter, I don't have all day."

The dark bubble collapsed, Harry blinked – well, owlishly. He knew, in the Years to come he'd be laughing at this episode. Then he took the letter.

It bore the Ministry crest.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at six minutes past three this afternoon in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representa-tives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9.30 a.m. on the fourteenth of July.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Panic settled in. Harrys mind worked in overdrive. He was expelled? From Hogwarts? It couldn't be. There had to be a mistake in this. He should have been contacted by the MLE but not to destroy his wand. In his mind a voice shouted, 'For God's sake, Harry, THINK!'

Then a second owl landed. Harry flew by Vernon, wrenched the window open and retrieved the message. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do, as Vernon took that moment to take a massive swing at Harry. Only, he didn't take Harry's situational awareness into account. At the very last moment, Harry ducked out of the way and Vernon's fist thundered into – nothing. In a Millisecond, Harry's anger was back at full strength, a ball of writhing black energy in the palm of his hand. And Harry launched that at his uncle.

And hit – the frying pan. Again. Not that it would matter ever again, as it crumbled into dust which fell to the ground. As did Vernon – but in one piece. Petunia ran around screaming. An almost lazy ball of energy took care of her. And somehow Harry knew those two were just stunned. Then he remembered the letter.

A shaking hand unfurled it. It was written hastily. The blots made that obvious.

Harry —

Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

Arthur Weasley

Harry looked around. One Dementor victim still shivering violently and two stunned Annoyances.

'No more magic? Riight! Too late for that. But why would Dumbledore sort it out. Why?!' Harry thought.

In that moment, the Two-Way-Mirror vibrated. Sirius!

„Listen up, Pup, I have to be quick. Don't ask when the enemy makes a mistake. Dumbledore – for some reason – is convinced he has to save you from the Ministry. Let him do so, o.k.?"

„O.k.," Harry answered. Then the mirror went empty again. Harry looked around for some Chocolate. It wasn't D's fault his parents were morons, right? Harry sighed.

The third owl bore the message Sirius already alluded to. Ministry hearing tomorrow morning at 9.30 again, and the school expulsion was reduced to a suspension.

Time to revise the facts about Dumbledore and Fudge, right? Because this stank!

On some days, Harry discovered, it didn't pay to get out of bed. On others, the world just plain and simply sucked!

Ministry of Magic, July 15th, 9.30 a.m.

„My dear fellow colleagues, we're gathered here on this very fine morning to ascertain the guilt of one Harry James Potter," Fudges voice boomed gleefully through the chamber.

'Damn, he's really trying to convict me from the start. What happened to innocent until proven guilty?' Harry thought. 'Must've flown out of the door or something.'

The full Wizengamot was looking down at him. While he was sitting on ground level, the lowest seats towered at least 5 ft. above him. Man, whoever designed this room really tried to make someone down here feel inferior.

„Not only has he knowingly and willingly cast magic in front of a Muggle," Fudge blabbered on, „no, he's not even a first time offender. Two years ago he cast a levitation charm – again, in front of Muggles. And lastly I even have reason to believe that Mr Potter is mentally unbalanced. Mr Potter, what say you?"

„That if you had to live with what I call family, you'd be a convicted murderer by now," Harry replied, „and contrary to this sham of a trial it would be completely justified."

Shocked gasps went around the room. Fudge practically howled with glee. „So you even deny the justification of this upstanding organisation of justice? Mr Potter, declare yourself!"

„Mr Fudge, you should stop trying to understanding things that are above your level of intelligence. You're nothing but a bumbling buffoon useful to the darker purebloods. The only thing separating us is – well, everything. Yet, I try to do the right thing. The muggles you spoke of are my aunt and uncle and their son. They knew from the beginning, who I am and more importantly what I am. And …"

In that moment, the door to the chamber banged open and Dumbledore barged in. He looked quite angry.

Harry continued „…and contrary to your belief, I had to cast magic in front of my magic aware cousin. As you might know, there is this nifty addition to this so-called reasonable restriction on underage sorcery. It deals with life-threatening situations and is called self-defence."

Fudge play-acted incredulous. „Self-defence, uh-huh. And what did you have to defend yourself against, Harry? The hordes of fans, following your every step? Or – Merlin beware – some overly amorous witch, hm?"

And all the grown-up wizards guffawed.

„No, not particularly. I don't know about you, but two Dementors don't classify as amorous to me." Harry buffed his fingernails.

Fudge eyed Harry shrewdly. Dumbledore didn't even register on his radar. „Dementors, you say? How … … convenient."

Harry didn't show it, but surprise ruled in his brain. How was that encounter convenient?

But Fudge continued „You see, my dear fellow members, how his mind works. Of all the creatures he chooses that which cannot be seen by muggles. Truly well thought-out, Harry. But not good enough for this upstanding organisation of justice. So unless you have proof…" Fudge trailed off.

Harry smiled his most saccharine smile. He had them now. „Well, maybe someone in this upstanding organisation of justice could tell me what counts as proof."

A witch from his right answered, „If you had a picture or a part of its cloak maybe. Maybe someone else has seen this encounter, or you could take veritaserum..."

Then Harry recognized her: It was Madam Bones. Oh dear, hopefully she'd not still be upset about his dating Susan...

Another witch sitting left to the Minister interrupted her „I don't believe we need to look to veritaserum. I believe there is a very simple explanation to this." Her simpering tone grated on Harry's nerves immediately. „As all the Dementors are at Azkaban, there could be none in Mr Potter's vicinity."

Harry was unconcerned. He knew what he had experienced. This toad-like witch was just covering the behind of her ministry. Or was it her behind? Could she have been the one to send these abominations after him? Harry looked at her.

„Excuse me, Madam, but … Who are you?"

„I am the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. You may refer to me as Madam Umbridge."

„Ah, I see. Well Madam Umbridge, there is just this one kink in your logic. The Dementors really were in Little Whinging. And I could deliver proof – right from the top of my head," and he drew his wand and tapped the temple of his head with it.

Everyone knew what Harry was alluding to. The Silence spreading out was deafening. No one dared to even breathe.

„All we need is a pensieve," Harry continued. „Or is it locked in the Ministers safe? With No Need to get it out for a simple matter of Underage magic?"

The Wizengamot mumbled. Fudge was terrified. Umbridge looked like she'd have to swallow a toad in the near future.

This was it. Harry knew, decision time was here.

Madam Bones spoke up, „I believe we should fetch that pensieve. At least I'd like to know whether there were Dementors away from Azkaban."

Harry could kiss her.

Ministry of Magic, July 15th, 11.00 a.m.

And now Harry congratulated her. After reviewing some of the consequences of what Fudge called "well-thought-out" decisions (complete with Harry's memories) , Sirius was free again (and compensated), Pettigrew was sought after (though Harry would deliver him post-haste), every note concerning Harry Potter using magic was deleted and Cornelius Fudge as well as Dolores Umbridge were dismissed.

And Madam Bones became the interim Minister of Magic. She first glowered at him when he confessed to hold on Pettigrew, but his reasons were impeccable. She even admitted it - after letting Harry sweat over it for about 5 minutes.

But when he called her Mistress of Magic, she laughed uproariously before adding, "Oh, how I wish, Harry, how I wish."

And she still smiled encouragingly before asking, "So Harry, do you have any wishes from the Minister of Magic? Nothing illegal of course."

Harry felt pretty small, "Oh, Madam Bones, you know I have a Dark Lord after me. And you've seen a bit of my home life. Could I ask for an allowance to practice Magic at my home? I know, this is a pretty big thing to ask, but I'm feeling so unprepared and I want, no, I need to do something more than sitting like a duck at Privet Drive."

Madam Bones was smiling again when Harry finished his small speech, "Yes Harry, that is pretty big. And Professor Dumbledore swears, you're safe at that home. But I will grant you that allowance, because I know what restlessness does to the best of Aurors, never mind a kid at school. BUT you may practice magic only at your home. Nowhere else, do you understand?"

"Yes Madam Bones. I understand completely."

"Good. Now, in case you heard of them, these educational decrees are still standing, but Professor Dumbledore and I will be discussing those at length."

And that almost made Harry wince. He caught himself soon enough, though and replied, "That's .. good, Madam Minister. We shall see the result of those discussions. Now, congratulations to your election again, but I think I have stayed my welcome. I hope, you'll succeed in your work and hopefully you and Professor Dumbledore will make this world a safe place again."

"Thank you again, Harry. My secretary will show you to the door, alright?" and they shook hands. The secretary already opened the door to the Ministers office.

Harry smiled, "Of course, Madam Bones. Good bye."

"Good bye, Harry."

He went over to the lift, completely in thought. What would that mean for him, when Dumbledore got his hooks into Madam Bones? He was so in thought, that he didn't notice his path was blocked and collided with - Brigitta Bones.

Startled out of his reverie, he tried to get his wits together, "Oh my god, I didn't see you there, Are you o.k. – Mrs Bones. What a surprise to see you here."

"Is it really?" Brigitta replied, "A surprise, I mean. My sister in law gets elected Minister of Magic, and you're surprised I'm here? Of course I'm going to congratulate her."

Harry felt like hitting his head on something really hard. The wall next to him looked promising. Of course she would come to congratulate.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mrs Bones. I'm afraid with all that trouble surrounding me, I've not been thinking straight," Harry replied.

"Oh, call me Brigitta, Harry" she laughed, "we're not that far apart,... age wise, I mean," and her hand found a place to rest slightly below his shoulder.

Harry looked to her hand and then up her face, "I'm unsure, Mrs..." his voice sank and his eyes wandered to the floor, "I mean Brigitta, you must be quite a bit older than me."

"I'm sure that I'm looking positively ancient from your perspective, Harry, but from my perspective... we're not that far apart," and she closed in on Harry. Harry's face grew redder and redder. It felt like he'd never raise his face again.

Then he remembered, he had that second Two-way-mirror still in his pocket. He fetched it.

"Madam... Mrs... ah, damn it, I mean Brigitta, could you take this mirror to my Suzy?"

"To your Suzy? I wasn't aware I gave her away to you," she said and Harry could hear her amusement in her voice. But she took the mirror.

'Damn it, she's good. Better than me. How could I pay her back?' he thought.

Then an Idea struck. He raised his face, tried to get his best lopsided grin and said, "Well, maybe it was Suzy's decision to make, don't you think, Brigitta?"

And Brigitta's mouth formed an o. 'Gotcha,' Harry thought.

But then life returned to her eyes and not just a little mischievousness, "So it would seem, Harry. Hmm, I wonder …"

Silence stretched out and Harry's curiosity grew by the second until he couldn't stand it, "You wonder? About what?"

"You sure seem to know about making decisions. But I wonder how comfortable you really are with other peoples decisions, Harry," and closed the distance to hug him.

Harry's sensors exploded. Brigitta's Hand on his back sent signals up and down his spine and made it stiffen. He felt her breasts press against his chest and her leg against his. The smell of her hair combined with her perfume in his nose, to create a sensation in his brain that seemed to reach so far into himself, yet it shut his brain off. He was painfully aware of how close his face to hers was and all he'd have to do was to turn his head and his lips would touch her cheek.

Then it was gone.

Right now a photo camera would capture a literally cross-eyed Harry Potter. But he'd never know that. He was still lost in those sensations.

Then his brain engaged again. 'Now, that was a hug,' he thought. But all he could say was, "wow…"

He looked around. Brigitta was nowhere to be found. He saw two Aurors struggling with a bound Lucius Malfoy. When he turned his head, he saw Dumbledore coming towards him. He still looked quite angry.

"We have to talk privately! Read this!" and shoved a piece of parchment under his face.

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

"Professor, what's the …"

"Be silent, Harry!"

And he grabbed Harry hard by his arm and spun around. Everything went black and it felt like he was pushed together and stretched and his eyeballs threatened to leave his socket and his chest tightened. He couldn't breathe, damn it. Stop this. And then it went reverse. Everything moved back to its rightful place. And then this effing whatever stopped. He gulped for air. What had happened? He looked around, saw two houses being pushed away by a third and Dumbledore striding towards it with fast, directed steps.

"Don't dawdle! We've got no time," the Headmaster shouted.

Harry jogged up to him, still breathing hard. The door opened and Dumbledore shoved him inside. Harry wondered what had happened to the Headmaster he knew. Lately almost everyone seemed to go crazy around him. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen next.

"HARRY!"…

Then he saw that red-headed ICBM flying towards him. Oh, this was going to hurt...

TBC

AN: And this was a hard thing to write. I tried for condescending Fudge… but nonetheless: here you are. That's the best I could do. Hopefully you're having some fun with it. Oh, in case you wondered, I took an example from all the grammar sites I visited and turned those symbols around. Still, this is unbeta'ed. If you'd like to help me... well, I'd appreciate that a lot.