Albus Dumbledore had been having a very contented summer. Only he and Minerva had stayed behind at Hogwarts Castle this year; all the other professors had gone off to their respective homes or otherwise occupied themselves with exciting adventures. Even Severus, who had been a glowering fixture around Hogwarts every summer for the past 16 years, had surprised everyone with the news that he'd rented a little summer cottage in a place called Spinner's End. Dumbledore hoped he was having a wonderfully pleasant time there right now.
In the past few weeks, life at Hogwarts had settled into a pleasant routine for Albus and Minerva. They spent the days in their offices, Minerva working on the latest batch of Hogwarts letters and Albus catching up on reports filed by Order members. Although the threat of Voldemort was constantly in the back of his mind, things had been very quiet of late, and that was all Dumbledore could hope for at the moment. All in all, he was quite contented.
This morning had started like all the others, when suddenly the head of Mafalda Hopkirk had appeared in his fireplace. "Dumbledore," she'd called in her impatient way, "that Harry Potter has gotten himself expelled from Hogwarts again. Don't tell me you're going to get him out of it again."
Dumbledore sighed. As much as he loved Harry, and he did love him like the son he'd never had, he had to admit that the boy had an almost unbelievable knack for attracting trouble. "I'll go and straighten it out right away, Mafalda," he said dismissively, and her head vanished from the hearth a moment later.
Dumbledore knew that there had to be an explanation, but knowing Harry, it would neither be simple nor straightforward. It went without saying that Harry wasn't actually guilty, because that was the way these things always happened for him. But first things first. He summoned an owl from the owlery, scribbled a quick note advising Harry that he was coming, and then started out to make a series of calls.
An hour later, he finally apparated in front of Number Four Privet Drive with the usual loud crack. He half-expected Mrs. Dursley to come out of the house yelling at him to keep quiet, and the fact that she didn't alarmed him more than anything. He walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
Whatever he had been expecting, it was not for Draco Malfoy to answer the door. "It's about time you got here, sir," the boy said with a touch of bitterness. "Dudley won't stop crying, his mother's still passed out in the closet, and Potter's being as useless as ever."
"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore asked, trying to keep the confusion he was feeling out of his voice, "would you kindly tell me what's going on here?"
"It's kind of hard to say, sir," Draco said, "but I guess it all started when Mrs. Dursley got her Hogwarts letter this morning."
Dumbledore couldn't take it anymore. He sat down heavily on the doorstep and started to laugh uncontrollably.