—Mafalda Hopkirk
"Hoping I am well?" Harry the boy asked, in quiet shock over the expulsion. His world, the one thing he had the Dursleys could not take away, gone in a letter. Confiscate...take my wand? Tingling foreboding in his spine, running up and down and up and down, once or twice arcing like a bolt of lightning to his hand, still gripping his wand, twitching twitching twitch. His eyes backlit with fire from elsewhere he whipped it right into elder Dursleys face, the threat hanging clear in the air, but for some reason needed to be defined, so he spoke slowly and with surety.
"Uncle, I've been expelled. This means, for one, that my magic is free. Touch me and I'll curse you"
"What did you do to my son you-you-YOU BLOODY-"
Oh look, yet another owl swoops in, holding another letter.
Sirius?
Don't leave the house? But the ministry was coming to take, take his wand from him! He couldn't very well put some tea on and chill the tingle was back. His hand was shaking so hard he took a couple breaths to quiet his senses down.
A distraction was needed. After all, Sirius had never misled him, so it was all for the best.#
He proceeded to explain to the seething fat man and his tight-assed thin prim and worried half to death wife about how close their dear incorruptible, infallible so innocent Dudley was to having his filthy soul kissed out.
Dudley contributed to the story the only way he knew how. Blame Harry. He was partially right, anyway. The dementors surely didn't come for the Dursleys, the certainly weren't on free-roam mode (because that was absurd?)
Another owl. What now?
A weight lifted itself off his shoulders when he read the expulsion was withdrawn. A hearing, though, what fun, top fun, wonderful. His musing were cut short when the fat man( yes, he was going to keep this name) snapped out of it, damn owl, and tried to grab him by the scruff of his neck, yelling all the while, incomprehensible "GET OUT-DANGER TO MY FAMILY-RUDDY BIRDS-DUDLEY" and once again, a letter arrived, a howler.
Floating midair, it claimed everyone's attention. Harry was waiting for a tirade of yells of some sort, (though why they would want to yell at him now he didn't know), when of all voices, Snape's smug droll voice came through low and threateningly.
"Petunia...remember my last.."
It was a moment of incomprehension before thin giraffe woman broke the silence with a resigned finality. As if the very words were giving her heartburn and gas and everyone malady we resign ourselves to, waiting for them to run their course and pass.
"The boy will have to stay"
And that was in fact, just that.