Chapter 805 Harry (Hearing 1)

"You don't usually walk to work, right?"

When Harry and Mr. Weasley walked to the square in high spirits, Harry asked Mr. Weasley.

"No, I walk a lot," said Mr. Weasley, "but obviously you don't, and I think we'd better get there using non-magical means entirely... to make a good impression and show them that you're in line. of……"

Harry nodded, although he knew it was of no use. What Fanlin instilled in him made Harry disappointed with the Ministry of Magic, at least for Fudge.

However, Mr. Weasley also did it for his own good.

Mr. Weasley kept his hands in his jacket as they walked. Harry knew he was clutching his wand tightly in his hand.

It was an almost deserted road, and Mr. Weasley was afraid of being attacked, but when they arrived at the small, pitiful tube station, they found it crowded with people rushing to catch the early morning train.

It was extremely difficult for Mr. Weasley to suppress his enthusiasm when they found themselves so close to Muggles talking about everyday things. (Mr. Weasley is a Muggle fan)

"Like a myth," he whispered, staring at the ticket machine over his glasses, "with astonishing originality."

"But they're out of order," Harry said, pointing to the markings.

"Yes, but even so..." Mr. Weasley looked at these things innocently and radiantly. Harry and Mr. Weasley bought their tickets from a sleepy conductor (Harry performed the transaction because Mr. Weasley was terrible at Muggle currency), and five minutes later they boarded a A tube train to central London.

Mr. Weasley anxiously checked the tube map taped to the window again and again.

"There are still four stops. Harry, there are still three stops and two stops are here. Harry..."

The excitement couldn't be suppressed at all. In a Muggle way, Mr. Weasley had always wanted to do this. Just look at the magically modified car.

They got off the train at a station very close to the center of London and merged into a stream of well-dressed men and women holding briefcases in their hands. They walked up the escalator, passed the ticket barrier (Mr. Weasley was very pleased with the way of swallowing tickets on both sides of the escalator), and then emerged on a wide street with spectacular high-rise buildings on both sides. Heavy traffic.

"Where are we?" Mr. Weasley asked blankly. For a heartbeat, Harry almost thought that they got off at the wrong platform despite Mr. Weasley's constant checking of the map, but for a second Then Mr. Weasley said, "Ah, yes, this road, Harry." Then he led Harry to turn into a side road.

"I'm sorry," said Mr. Weasley, "but I've never taken the train to work and my behavior is very different from a Muggle point of view. In fact, I've never used the guest entrance before."

(The guest entrance here should refer to the guest entrance of the Ministry of Magic, which is the passage connecting the Muggle world and the Ministry of Magic. It was originally designed for those Muggles, but no Muggles have ever been here.)

The deeper they walked, the smaller and dilapidated the buildings along the road became, until they finally arrived at a small alley that included several shabby offices, a bar, and an overflowing tank truck.

Harry would have liked the Ministry of Magic to be located in a more impressive location.

"We're here," Mr. Weasley said tersely, pointing to an old red phone booth that was missing a few panes of glass and stood in front of a heavily graffitied wall.

"Follow me, Harry." Mr. Weasley opened the door to the phone booth.

Harry walked into the phone box and wondered what the place was for.

Mr. Weasley squeezed himself in next to Harry and closed the phone booth door. It was a little cramped in here; Harry was squeezed against the telephone, which hung crookedly on the wall as if a savage had tried to tear it open.

Mr. Weasley reached over Harry to get the receiver.

"Mr. Weasley, I think this telephone is out of order, too," Harry said.

"No, no, I'm sure it's good," Mr. Weasley held the receiver to his ear and started dialing. "Let me see six." He dialed the number, "Two four, then a four, then a two... Well, that's right..."

When the dial returned to its original position smoothly, a cold female voice came from the phone, but from the receiver in Mr. Weasley's hand. However, the voice was very loud and clear, as if there was an observer. The missing woman was standing next to them.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and occupation."

"Well..." Mr. Weasley was clearly unsure whether he wanted to speak into the receiver.

But in the end, Mr. Weasley compromised and put the microphone to his ear, "Arthur Weasley, from the Inappropriate Use of Magical Items Office, accompanied by Harry Potter, was asked to attend a disciplinary meeting." Hearings."

"Thank you," said the cold female voice, "Visitor, please take the badge and tie it to the front of your robe."

There was a clicking sound, and then Harry saw something slide out of the metal slide usually used to return coins.

Mr. Weasley picked it up. It was a square silver badge with the words Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing written on it.

When the female voice sounded again, he pinned the badge on the front of his T-shirt.

"Visitors to the Ministry of Magic, you need to undergo an inspection and take your wand to the security office for registration. The security office is at the innermost part of the central hall."

As soon as he finished speaking, the floor of the phone booth suddenly trembled. They slowly sank into the ground. Harry looked a little nervous as the pavement outside slowly rose up above the glass of the phone box until darkness grew above them. Then they could see nothing and all he could hear was the dull grinding noise of the phone box as it descended through the ground. Although Harry felt it was much longer, about a minute later a golden light illuminated his feet, getting wider and wider, gradually rising until it hit his face, and Harry had to blink to avoid tears. .

"The Ministry wishes you a pleasant day," the female voice said. The door to the phone booth flew open and Mr. Weasley walked out, followed by Harry, whose mouth was so surprised that he could barely close his mouth.

They were now standing at one end of an extremely long and spectacular hall, which was paved with very shiny black wooden floors. The peacock blue ceiling is inlaid with shimmering golden symbols that continually move and change, like so many heavenly guardians.

The walls on either side were paneled in shiny black wood, and there were many gilded fireplaces. Every few seconds, with a slight rapid movement, a wizard or witch emerged from the fireplace on the left. On the right, a small queue formed in front of each fireplace, waiting to leave.

There is a fountain halfway down the hall. A group of slightly larger than life-size golden statues stand in the center of a circular pool. The tallest of these statues is a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight to the sky.

Surrounding the wizard statue are a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and an elf. The three statues at the back all stand before the wizards and witches with expressions of reverence. The water was flying from the gleaming nozzles at the tops of their wands, and from other nozzles including a centaur's drag rope, the top of the goblin's hat, and the ears of the elf, so the tinkling sound of falling water came from the statue's came out of the gap.

At the feet of these statues are scattered hundreds of wizards and witches. Most of these statues are dressed in gray and look a little precocious. Looking straight ahead, there is a set of golden doors at the end of the hall.

"This way," said Mr. Weasley. They joined the crowd, weaving among Ministry staff, some carrying wads of rickety parchment, others carrying flat briefcases; Reading the Daily Prophet while walking...

Hmm...that's pretty bad...

As Harry and Mr. Weasley passed the fountain, he saw many silver and bronze coins shining at the bottom of the pool. There is a small stained sign next to the pool, which reads: All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Companions will be donated to St. Mungo's Magical Hospital for the treatment of magical illnesses and injuries.

Harry found himself thinking desperately: "If I am not expelled from Hogwarts this time, I will donate ten gold galleons."

"Come up here, Harry," said Mr. Weasley.

They walked through the crowd of Ministry employees and headed for the golden doors. There was a table on the left with a sign saying Safe Place. As they approached a wizard looked up at them and put down his copy of the Daily Prophet. This guy was badly shaved. , wearing a peacock blue robe.

"I am accompanying a visitor," Mr. Weasley gestured to Harry.

"Come here," the wizard said in a bored tone. Harry walked towards him, and the wizard took out a long golden rod, which was as thin and soft as a car antenna. The wizard used it to fly up and down in Harry's front and back.

"Wand," the wizard from the safe muttered, putting down the golden device and holding out his hand. Harry handed over his wand.

The wizard held his wand to a strange brass instrument, which resembled a dish of various proportions. The instrument began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment emerged from the bottom of the instrument.

"Eleven inches, the axis of the Phoenix Feather, has been used for four years. Is the information correct?"

"Yes," Harry replied nervously.

"I'll keep this," said the wizard, nailing the strip of parchment to a small brass nail. "Take your wand back," he added, throwing it to Harry.

"Thanks."

"Wait a minute," the wizard said slowly. His glasses flicked from the visitor's plaque on Harry's chest to his forehead.

"Thank you, Eric," Mr. Weasley said calmly. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders and led him away from safety, rejoining the army of wizards and witches passing between the various golden doors.

The crowd was slightly crowded, and Harry followed Mr. Weasley through several doors to a smaller hall further away, where at least twenty golden lattice-like elevators were working. Harry and Mr. Weasley joined a group of people waiting for the elevator. Next to them stood a bearded wizard, holding a huge cardboard box, which made a disturbing noise.

"How are you, Arthur?" the wizard nodded to Mr. Weasley.

"What are you carrying, Bob?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking at the box.

"I'm not sure," the wizard said seriously. "I originally thought it was just a standard chick, but now it's starting to spit out flames. It seems that I have seriously violated the regulations prohibiting experimental breeding."

Maybe it's a phoenix, but it's not necessarily a phoenix, but a phoenix and a chicken...

To be honest, this guy has Hagrid's style, like, playing with those blast-ended skrewts.

With a loud noise, an elevator stopped in front of them; the golden lattice doors opened, Harry and Mr. Weasley followed the others into the elevator, and Harry found himself squeezed against the wall behind. Several wizards and witches looked at him curiously; he looked down at his feet to avoid meeting anyone's eyes, his bangs falling down his forehead as he did so.

The lattice doors slammed shut and the elevator began to climb slowly, and the elevator's chains clicked as the same female voice Harry had heard in the phone box rang out again.

"The seventh floor is the Department of Magic Competitions and Sports, the headquarters of the British and Irish Quidditch Alliance, the Office Billiards Club, and the Magic Toy Patent Office."

The elevator door opened. Harry caught a glimpse of a messy corridor, with various Quidditch advertisements nailed to the wall. In the elevator, a wizard holding a broomstick squeezed out of the elevator and disappeared into the corridor.

The door closed and the elevator climbed shuddering again, this time the female voice announced: "Level 6, Department of Magical Transportation, Floo Powder Network Collaboration Center, Broom Adjustment Control Office, Portkey Office, and Transmission Testing Center."

Once again, the elevator door opened, and four or five wizards and witches walked out; at the same time, several paper airplanes rushed into the elevator. Harry stared at these paper planes as they flapped leisurely and circled overhead. They were all lavender, with Ministry of Magic postmarks stamped on the edges of their wings.

"This is just internal mail," Mr. Weasley told Harry gently. "We normally use owls, but the volume of letters is unbelievable and they are filling up my desk."

As they climbed, the internal mail all circled around the ceiling light.

"The fifth floor is the International Magical Cooperation Department, the International Magical Items Trading Standards Cooperation Office, the International Magical Law Office and the British Branch of the International Magical Union."

"This is Mr. Crouch's..."

For some reason, Harry suddenly thought of Crouch, that unlucky guy...

"Once..." Mr. Weasley responded briefly.

When the elevator door opened, two internal emails and a few wizards went out, but several more internal emails flew in, so the lights above them became flickering. \

"Fourth floor, Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Office of Cooperation with Magical Creatures, Office of Separation of Body and Soul, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pet Counseling Center."

"Here we are," the wizard carrying the spray turkey exited the elevator along with several internal emails. The elevator doors closed again.

"The third level is the Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters, including the Magical Disaster Reversal Office, the Rescue Command, and the Committee for the Protection of Muggles."

On this floor, everyone except Harry, Mr. Weasley, and a wizard who was reading a long piece of parchment in the elevator had exited the elevator.

The remaining interior mail was still circling around the ceiling lamp as the elevator rose again. Then the elevator door opened again, and the female voice announced.

"The second floor is the Magical Regulations Enforcement Department, including the Inappropriate Use of Magic Office, the Auror Command, and the Magical Items Maintenance and Management Office."

"This is it, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. Together with the wizard they exited the elevator and entered a corridor with a row of doors. "My office is on the other side of this floor."

"Mr. Weasley," said Harry as they passed a sunlit window, "aren't we still underground?"

"Yes, we're underground," said Mr. Weasley. "Those are magic windows. The Magical Maintenance Department decides what the weather will be each day. We had a good two months of hurricane weather during the last time they asked for a raise. Turn this way, Harry."

They turned a corner, passed through two thick oak doors, and emerged into a noisy open area divided into individual booths, filled with chatter and laughter.

Internal mail flies in and out like miniature rockets. There was a crooked sign hanging above the nearest cubicle that read: Auror Command.

Harry peeked past the door as they passed. Auror members filled the walls of their cubicles with pictures of wanted wizards and their own family photos, and some posted pictures of their favorite Quidditch teams, as well as articles from the Daily Prophet. A wizard in bright red robes was sitting cross-legged on the table, rushing to write a report with his big quill. He had a ponytail on his head that was longer than Bill's.

A little further on, a witch with a blindfold covering one eye was sitting on the top of the wall of her single room chatting with Kingsley Shacklebolt. (To be continued)