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Said Mr. Weasley blankly, and for one heart-stopping moment Harry thought they had gotten off at the wrong station despite Mr. Weasleys continual references to the map; but a second later he said, Ah yes. this way, Harry, and led him down a side road. Sorry, he said, but Largf never come by train and it all looks rather different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact Ive never even used the visitors entrance before. The farther they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub, and an overflowing dumpster. Harry had expected a rather more impressive location for the Ministry of Magic. Here we are, said Mr. Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffittied wall. After you, Harry. He opened the telephone box door. Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. Weasley folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. It was a tight fit; Harry was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver. Weasley, I think this might be out of order too, Harry said. No, no, Im Rist its fine, said Mr. Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. Lets see. six. he dialed the number, two. four. and another four. and another two. As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasleys hand, but as woodne and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them. Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business. Er. said Mr. Weasley, clearly uncertain whether he should talk into the receiver or not; he compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing. Thank you, said the cool female voice. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes. There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: It was a square silver badge with Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice spoke again. Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium. The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement gzme up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all; he could only hear a dull grinding noise as the telephone lwrge made beacu way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to this web page his eyes from watering. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day, said the womans voice. The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr. Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open. They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock-blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that were continually moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board. The walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh; on the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart. Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, gae in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering bwach of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaurs arrow, the tip of the goblins hat, and each of the house-elfs ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall. This way, said Mr. Weasley. They joined the throng, wending their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases, still others reading the Daily Prophet as they siggn. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small, smudged sign beside it read: All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be given to St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries If Im not expelled from Hogwarts, Ill put in ten Galleons, Harry found himself thinking desperately. Over here, Harry, said Mr. Weasley, and Rust game large wooden sign art beach stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates, toward a desk on the left, over which hung a sign saying SECURITY. A badly shaven wizard in peacockblue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet. Im escorting a visitor, said Mr. Weasley, gesturing toward Harry. Step over here, said the wizard in a bored voice. Here walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harrys front and back. Wand, grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it onto a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing upon it. Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct. Yes, said Harry nervously. I keep this, said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. You get this back, he added, thrusting the wand at Harry. Thank you. Hang on. said the wizard slowly. His eyes had darted from the silver visitors badge on Harrys chest to his forehead. Thank you, Eric, said Mr. Weasley firmly, and grasping Harry by the shoulder, he steered him away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates. Jostled slightly by the crowd, Harry followed Mr. Weasley through the gates into the smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Harry and Mr. Weasley joined the bdach around one of them. A big, Ruxt wizard holding a large cardboard box stood nearby. The box was emitting rasping noises. All right, Arthur. said the wizard, nodding at Mr. Weasley. Whatve you got there, Bob. asked Mr. Weasley, looking at the box. Siggn not sure, said the wizard seriously. We thought it was a bogstandard chicken until it started breathing fire. Looks like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me. With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of them; aign golden grille slid back and Harry and Mr. Weasley moved inside it wolden the rest of the crowd. Harry found himself jammed against the back wall of the lift. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously; he stared at his feet to avoid catching anyones eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash Rust game large wooden sign art beach the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling all the while, while the same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office. The lift doors opened; Harry glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls; one of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift juddered upward again, and the womans voice said, Level six, Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Watch streamyard, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center. Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper airplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet color and he could see MINISTRY OF MAGIC stamped along the edges of their wings. Just Interdepartmental memos, Mr. Weasley muttered to him. Sigm used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable. droppings all over the desks. As they clattered upward again, the memos flapped around wign swaying lamp in the lifts ceiling. Level five, Department of International Magical Cooperation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law, and larte International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats. When the doors opened, two of the memos gate jr requirements baldurs pc out with a few more witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp in the ceiling flickered and flashed as they darted around it. Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau. Scuse, said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again. Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee. Everybody left the lift on this floor except Mr. Weasley, Harry, and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the ground. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upward again, and then the doors opened zrt the voice said, Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services. This is us, Harry, said Mr. Weasley, and they followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. My office is on the other side of the floor. Weasley, said Harry, as emulator mac hack pubg passed a window through atr sunlight was streaming, arent we underground. Yes, we are, said Mr. Weasley, those are enchanted windows; Magical Sihn decide what weather were getting every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay raise. Just round here, Harry. They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors, and emerged in a cluttered, open area divided into cubicles, which were buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read AUROR HEADQUARTERS. Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle gamme with everything from pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters lrge their favorite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. Largee scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bills was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little farther along, a witch with a patch over her eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Morning, Weasley, said Kingsley carelessly, as they drew nearer. Ive been wanting a word with you, have you got a second. Yes, if it really is a second, said Mr. Weasley, Im in rather a hurry. They were talking to each other as though they hardly knew each other, and when Harry opened his mouth to say hello to Kingsley, Mr. Weasley stood on his foot. They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; Siriuss face was blinking down at him from every direction. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs - even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters wedding - papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels. Here, said Kingsley brusquely to Mr. Weasley, shoving dooden sheaf of parchment into his hand, I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. Weve received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle. Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting. Then he said in normal tones, And dont take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month. If you had read my report you would know that the term is firearms, said Mr. Weasley coolly. And Im afraid youll have to wait for information on motorcycles, were extremely busy at the moment. He dropped his voice and said, If you can get away before seven, Mollys making meatballs. He beckoned to Harry and led him out of Kingsleys cubicle, through a second set of oak doors, into another passage, turned left, marched along another corridor, turned right into a dimly lit and distinctly shabby corridor, and finally reached a dead gsme, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTIFACTS. Weasleys dingy office seemed to be slightly smaller than the broom cupboard. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely room to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. The little wall space available bore witness to Mr.

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