The Paranoid Harry Potter

Kingsley turned away from the auror he had been berating, who Dumbledore belatedly recognised as John Dawlish. "Well Albus, Dawlish here has been sent by the ministry to destroy Harry Potter's wand. It seems that the Ministry thinks that Mr. Potter somehow managed to perform two simultaneous Patronus Charms and have in their infinite wisdom decided to expel him."

"WHAT?" shouted a shocked Dumbledore. "Have they gone insane over there? Since when do they authorise the snapping of a wand without at least a hearing on the matter?"

Dawlish looked horribly embarrassed and unsure of himself but continued to insist that he had his orders and furthermore insisted that they produce Harry Potter immediately or he would be forced to charge them with obstruction of justice charges.

"Really..." drawled out Dumbledore."Well of course Dawlish, please go ahead and do your duty. I'm sure being known as the man who illegally snapped the wand of the Boy-Who-Lived will do nothing but wonders for your career." His eyes twinkled in amusement as Dawlish paled rather rapidly and looked like he was wishing that he was anywhere but there.

"In any case, Mr. Potter is not here. Now, you can waste your time looking for him, but instead I suggest you accompany me to the Ministry where we will sort this unfortunate misunderstanding out."

John Dawlish agreed only too readily. If Dumbledore wanted to sort this steaming mess of hippogriff crap out then he would only be too happy to let him.

Dumbledore dispelled his muggle repelling and notice me not charms from the street with a quick flick of his wand, turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack. Seconds later the street was once again deserted as the remaining wizards vanished one by one.

...

Hermione was bored out of her mind. Hanging around a decrepit old house with the Weasleys was not what she had signed up for. Molly Weasley's insistence on keeping them busy was most annoying. She had not given up her summer vacation to spend it acting as slave labour for a redheaded harridan who had a seemingly endless list of chores as she set them to clean and decontaminate the old house.

Where was Harry? Why hadn't they fetched him yet? She was terribly worried about her best friend and intensely impatient to see him again. She knew, she just knew that the Headmaster's order not to tell him anything was an incredibly bad idea. Unfortunately she had not been able to convince him otherwise. Nor had she been able to dredge up the courage to just disobey him outright. Still, she consoled herself; surely he knew what he was doing. He was Albus Dumbledore after all. She bit her lip in worry and contemplated sending Harry another letter. He had to reply at some point.

She couldn't even focus on the book she had been attempting to read for the past hour and that was almost unprecedented for her.

They had better get Harry from his relatives soon; otherwise she was likely to go absolutely crazy. She was terribly starved for intelligent conversation. The adults refused to discuss anything of importance with them, all Ginny ever wanted to talk about was her crush on Harry and the twins tended to keep to themselves as they worked on pranks. Even Ron was a terrible conversationalist. Since they were not in school they could not talk about their shared classes or school activities and Hermione had discovered that without that they had astonishingly little in common. All the boy seemed to want to talk about was quidditch or food. If she had to listen to one more rant about how the Chudley Cannons were bound to do better this year she would probably either end up killing him or trying to gouge out her own eardrums.

Just then the door slammed open and Ron came barging into the room. "Hermione, hurry up and come with me. Something seems to have happened, the entire orders been turning up in a panic," he whispered.

She jumped out of bed and onto the landing where she found that the Weasley twins, Fred and George, were already hanging over the railing, flesh coloured strings dangling from their hands. She tried to grab one of the extendable ears out of their hands so that she could hear what was happening from herself, but before she could do so, Fred - or was it George, straightened up.

"It's no use," he said. "We barely heard anything before they stopped working. They must have cast an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."

"Did you hear anything important before that?" she demanded.

"Not much," grimaced Fred. "All I could get was something about Dementors at Privet Drive."

"Dementors," whispered a shocked Hermione. "But...But...What about Harry? Is he okay? Did they say anything about him?"

"No, not that we could hear," answered George.

Hermione snapped. Enough was enough she decided. She marched down the stairs and started hammering on the kitchen door. She would have answers and she would have them now.

Ron ran up behind her and tried to pull her hand away from the door. "Hermione, what are you doing?" he cried.

"I'm trying to find out what has happened to Harry," shrieked Hermione. "You remember him don't you? Harry, about so high…messy black hair…our best friend."

Ron's face turned red. "Hey, I'm really worried about him too you know. I'm the one who came to tell you that something's happened after all, but you can't...can't just barge in there...Mum will go spare...you know that."