The group of witches and wizards erupted from nothingness in a similar flare to the way the disappeared. The stunned spell casters looked around amazed, they were in front of the destination. A very old house sat in front of them, one that screamed 'ancient bigot house'. A few of the group got their bearings straight and snapped out of their stupor.

"What in the name of Merlin's personal hell was that Potter!" Moody roared.

"I got a few new tricks." Harry stated evasively.

"What kind of tricks can perform a forced mass apparition? " Tonks questioned.

Harry gestured to his crystal necklace. "This gem-ed beauty is my trick master. So far it hasn't let me down." Shin glowed and pulsed with pride.

Tonks eyed the piece of pseudo-jewelery with application, "Where did you get that neat little rock Harry?" She asked.

"I got it with my fan mail this summer. I got a few pieces of fan mail, and a whole demon fearing load of hate mail from all across the Isle. At least my uncle was happy with all the magic mail I was burning."

The group avoided looking at Harry's face, that mistake would be as the yanks said, 'their bad'.

Harry walked up to the old house, looking over his shoulder at the spell casters still out in the street, "Are you guys coming? We don't want to wait for those wand happy wacko's to show up do you?"

Moody led the group to the front door, embarrassed at being shown up by a teenaged untrained wizard for the second time in a day.

The group barely managed to get the door open before the crystal shard gave its warning, something was wrong. Harry hesitated at the threshold of the door.

Something Moody noticed.

"Something wrong Potter?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm getting this weird feeling. Like I shouldn't be here."

Moody looked at him with both eyes, "What do you mean?"

"This place has something wrong about it. Like it wants to hurt me, not kill me, just own me."

Moody gave Harry a hard look, one that didn't look quite right on the old law enforcer's face.

"Come inside Harry, Its quite alright."

The sense of unease was increasing. Whatever was bothering Shin was approaching. So far the shard hadn't lead him wrong before. He fingered the jeweled dagger concealed within the waistband of his trousers. There was fight approaching and he could feel it. Enteri's wand started heating up, it was subtle but building quickly. Even his own wand was building in power, preparing for a battle against insurmountable odds.

"Hello Harry." greeted an elderly voice

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed.

Shin was unleashing waves of unease now, it wanted far away from Dumbledore, and it wanted to be away now. The very fake looking smile on Dumbledore's face also sent alarm bells in Harry's head.

"I hear you've had quite an adventure Mr. Potter, as well as received a gift from an old friend of mine. I would very much like to see it."

The words of Enteri's letter flashed in Harry's eyes, Particularly the warnings against Dumbledore. Around his neck, Harry felt the shard drawing energy. The enchanted shard was preparing for something.

Harry looked Dumbledore directly in the eyes, "Sorry Professor, but I can't stay here."

With another blinding flash of light, Harry Potter vanished.

As it seemed to be the norm, something was annoying Harry Potter. In this case it was his so called 'trial'. A few weeks of freedom and joy cut down by the royal looking ministry owl and its letter.

Apparently they were still going threw with the obvious set up, logic and reasoning be damned.

Harry walked down the streets of cheery early morning London, searching for a phone booth that was saturated in magic energies. A rarity, believe it or not. Considering the fact that he had no idea where it was, Harry set out on his search at seven in the morning. A smart idea, one that wasn't so smart considering all that was in the fifteen year old's stomach was a large cup of french roast coffee and a cheese danish. Not a breakfast of champions, but it would have to do.

Around Harry's neck shin was tugging this way and that, trying to lead its master to the ministry entrance. The shard was putting up a valiant effort to lead the way, but was quickly getting annoyed by the lack of verbal skills.

Harry looked down at his enchanted necklace, "You know this is getting to be a bit difficult, I'm trying to understand you but you just used the same signal for 'go left' and 'evil possessed kitten'. we seriously need to work out a better way of signaling me."

Another hour of trial and error, and the booth was found. "Now your sure this is the place?"

a smug positive feeling from the necklace.

"Great, now how do we enter the ministry?"

confusion from the shard.

"what the bloody hell do you mean you don't know?"

annoyance and embarrassed feeling from the shard.

"what the hell does, 'Perkele' mean? You know I don't speak Finish!"

The shard glared. Somehow.

"Fine, I guess we'll just force our way in."

Harry stepped inside the booth, and felt around it with his magic. The Shard following its master's intentions spotted the spellbound telephone, and forced its influence over it. The Phone's enchantments put up a token second of resistance before yielding and the floor of the booth sank into the ground.

The booth floor stopped its movement and Harry found himself standing in front of a giant stone lobby. Nearby fireplaces flared with green and emerald flames with dozens of witches and wizards going to and fro.

Shin was twitching with excitement, the air itself was saturated with free flowing magical energy and was a buffet to the shard's sponge-like nature. The shard started glowing and Harry tucked it under his shirt, where it could feed on the arcane energy without drawing attention.

Given how fast the shard could drain any sort of energy It might actually be able to talk by the time the farce of a trial was over with.

Harry walked threw the ministry minding his manners and stopping a random witch to ask for directions to the courtrooms. Despite the slow and constantly stopping lifts, Harry arrived in front of the courtroom corridor directly at the stroke of ten o' clock. Just in time to hear an official voice cry out: "All involved in the trial of Harry Potter vs. the Ministry of Magic!"

Harry cursed in every language and dialect that he knew, and rushed to courtroom ten. The damned notice letter said the trial was to take place at one thirty in the afternoon! The sprinting boy made it in just in time for the doors to close behind him.

"Mr. Potter, Glad to see you."

Harry stood up straight and smoothed his clothes. "No need to give them any more ammunition." He mumbled to himself.

Harry walked into the center of the chamber, where a very unappealing chair waiting for him to sit in it. It was a simple wood and steel mix, with a dozen chains and manacles attached to it. The Chair seemed to be soaked in binding and entrapment magics. Harry sat in it without fear, The magic of the shard sapping away at the binding chair until it was completely mundane.

Harry faced his soon-to-be jury with amusement dancing in his eyes. There were at least forty in the stands. The entire lot of them were looking at Harry like a display in an amusement park. They wore ugly purple robes, with a vain silver W on them as their only decoration. In the middle of the peanut gallery sat Cornelius Fudge, the defining and shining example of purebred pompousness.

Fudge gave Harry what he thought was a dirty look, Harry had to restrain himself from asking if Fudge had 'fudged' himself in public. Beside Fudge, sat what Harry could only describe as a bastard child between Igor and Quasimodo, that attempted to transfigure itself into a toad. The Toad-human sat comfortably next to the minister, and Harry had a foul thought that perhaps that thing was the minister's wife. Harry shuddered considerably.

'Very well,' said Fudge. The accused being present - finally -let us begin. Are

you ready?' he called down the row.

'Yes, sir,' said an eager voice Harry knew. "Oh Jesus-nonexistent-Christ not that prick" Harry muttered under his breath. Ron's brother Percy was sitting at the very end of the front bench. If the rest of the company in the room was as bad as shown so far, Harry was willing to take a killing curse just to be done with the stupidity.

'Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August,' said Fudge in a ringing voice, and Percy began taking notes at once, 'into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little

Whinging, Surrey. 'Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley -'

'Witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,' said a quiet voice from behind Harry, who groaned aloud in disbelief.

Dumbledore was striding serenely across the room wearing long midnight blue robes and a perfectly calm expression. His long silver beard and hair gleamed in the torchlight as he drew level with Harry and looked up at Fudge through the half-moon spectacles that rested halfway down his very crooked nose.

The members of the Wizengamot were muttering. All eyes were now on Dumbledore. Some looked annoyed, others slightly frightened; two elderly witches in the back row, however, raised their hands and waved in welcome.

"Oh Fuck me!" Harry exclaimed out loud. The Wizengamot members' eyes stared at Harry, who was busy glaring at Dumbledore in ill concealed contempt.

Harry turned to the Wizengamot members, "Can we get this asshole out of here? I'd rather take my chances without the incompetent bumbler here." He asked.

'Ah,' said Fudge, blatantly ignoring Harry's remarks. 'Dumbledore. Yes. You - er - got our - er - message that the time and -er - place of the hearing had been changed, then?'

Harry glared at the politician and muttered death threats and maiming under his breath.

'I must have missed it,' said Dumbledore cheerfully. 'However, due to a lucky mistake I arrived at the Ministry three hours early, so no harm done.'

'Yes - well - I suppose we'll need another chair - I - Weasley, could you -?'

'I'm waiting for an answer here!' Harry stated, trying in vain to draw attention to himself.

'Not to worry, not to worry,' said Dumbledore nonchalantly, summoning a flamboyantly comfy chair out of the air.

Harry stood up out the chair and loudly clapped his hands. 'Can we please get on with this farce of a trial already?' He questioned.

'Yes,' said Fudge again, shuffling his notes. 'Well, then. So. The charges. Yes.'

He extricated a piece of parchment from the pile before him, took a deep breath, and read out, The charges against the accused are as follows:

That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited

area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.

'You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?' Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

'No.' Harry stated calmly.

Dumbledore gave Harry a weary look, with a hint of questioning. The Wizengamot members looked at him with new found interest.

'No?' Questioned Fudge, 'What do you mean no?'

Harry sighed, knowing this was going to be a royal pain in his backside. 'I am Harry James Potter, but no, I do not live in Surrey I was forced to live there against my will. Only recently I have obtained my own residence in London. I am not stating where specifically until someone removes that aging flesh pile from my presence.'

Dumbledore's stare started to turn confused and annoyed. Not a good combination for the man's public appearance.

Fudge saw a legal opportunity to jump at and did so with haste. 'Guards, it seems as if Professor Dumbledore is not in fact part of the defense or indeed any part of this case, remove him from the courtroom.'

Harry grinned as the gobsmacked Professor was led from the room, his protests ignored as the door hit him on the way out.

When the doors to courtroom ten opened six hours later the Wizengamot filled out with Harry chatting in a friendly manner with Minister Fudge. The moment the door's opened the magical press descended on the entourage eager to gain any tidbit of info they could obtain.

The first thing the crowd noticed was Harry's appearance. Namely his own set of Wizengamot robes.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Harry called out gathering all attention to himself, 'If you could please settle down and calmly ask questions in a civilized manner we would be glad to answer.'