harry potter book of crimes

When Harry and Mr. Weasley came out of the old Black mansion together, there was just a slight light in the sky. Looking up, it was gray, and the air seemed to be soaked with night dew, with a chill in the early morning.

The two of them walked in staggered steps, gently walking around the square and walking outside the residential area.

"Where is the Ministry of Magic? How should we get there?" After taking two silent steps, Harry suddenly asked as if he wanted to relax his tense nerves.

"No one knows the exact location, we just know that it is somewhere deep underground... Clerks like us usually Apparate to go to work," Mr. Weasley explained casually, "but obviously you don't."

"Besides, we'd better go there through the visitor's entrance. After all, you are going to be interrogated, so it's best if you don't use magic, so as not to leave a bad impression on the normal Ministry of Magic employees."

Mr. Weasley walked with one hand in his jacket, and Harry knew that he must be holding his wand.

There was almost no one on the dilapidated streets, and the floor tiles were a little wet, as if there had been a light rain last night.

But when they walked into the shabby and inconspicuous subway station, they found that it was already crowded with Muggle passengers on the morning shift.

Mr. Weasley has always been particularly fond of Muggles and Muggle mechanical products, which is the biggest reason why he stayed in the "Department of Misuse of Muggle Products" without complaining.

Now that he had both, it was no wonder that he had trouble suppressing his intense interest - it was the same every time he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business.

"It's incredible," he said excitedly, pointing to the automatic ticket vending machine in front of him, "It's amazing!"

"They're broken," Harry said, pointing to the sign.

"Really? But even so, still..." Mr. Weasley said while looking at the malfunctioning ticket machines with joy.

"We have to buy tickets...I mean, Mr. Weasley..."

Harry had to pull Mr. Weasley to look away from the ticket machines.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry asked helplessly, "look! We have to buy tickets -"

"Oh!" Mr. Weasley turned around and said suddenly, "Yes, buy a ticket! I probably remember this..." He said, took out a handful of pounds from his pocket, and looked at it over and over.

"Well... although I have been thinking about it, I still can't tell the face value of these Muggle currencies..."

"Let me do it!" Harry reached out and took the handful of colorful pounds, then raised his head and asked, "By the way, where should we go?"

"Central London," Mr. Weasley replied immediately, "well, if I remember correctly - it was also my first time going through the visitor's entrance."

Hearing what Mr. Weasley said, Harry couldn't help but pray in his heart, hoping that he wouldn't be late because he couldn't find the entrance!

They bought subway tickets from a sleepy-eyed administrator, and five minutes later, they boarded the subway. The old subway carried them, clanging towards the center of London.

In the subway carriage, Mr. Weasley checked the subway route map on the window again and again; Harry carefully put his right hand into his left sleeve, and then quickly pulled it out.

An inexplicable look flashed across his face for a moment.

"There are still four stops... Harry has three stops now... there are two more stops, Harry..."

Under Mr. Weasley's curious and nervous murmurs, the surrounding Muggle passengers all looked at him with puzzled faces. It was obvious that his nervous muttering was loud enough to attract attention.

"Mr. Weasley, you won't miss the stop, we just need to sit down." Harry couldn't help it anymore, so he lowered his voice and reminded, "They are all looking at you!"

"Oh! Really?" Mr. Weasley immediately pulled his eyes away from the road map and looked around, "To be honest, I really want to make some Muggle friends..."

They got off at a stop in central London.

The subway platform in the city center was of course bustling and crowded. There was a huge flow of people here. Harry and Mr. Weasley were pushed out of the subway by countless well-dressed men and women carrying briefcases.

"Oh! If I hadn't known that Muggles couldn't do magic, I would have really thought this was a magic staircase." Standing on the escalator with Harry, Mr. Weasley lost no time in admiring him.

"Wow! This little thing is awesome!"

When they passed the turnstile at the ticket gate, Mr. Weasley, who had personally experienced having his ticket swallowed by the ticket gate, couldn't help but smile and clapped his hands.

When they left the subway station and came to a wide street, it was already bright.

There are majestic and spectacular buildings on both sides of the street. Various shops and large billboards are colorful along the street. The street is also busy with traffic.

"What is this place?"

Standing on the side of the street, watching the people and vehicles coming and going, Mr. Weasley looked at a loss.

"What?"

Harry's heart stopped beating when he thought that despite Mr. Weasley checking the tube map so frequently, they had gotten off at the wrong station.

But fortunately, Mr. Weasley said next: "Ah! Oh... by the way, this way, Harry."

As he said that, he turned around and led Harry forward for a short distance, then turned into a fork in the street.

"I'm sorry," unlike Harry's nervousness, Mr. Weasley said extremely excitedly, "I have never taken the subway! And, from a Muggle perspective, everything seems completely different."

"...To be honest, I almost thought I had become a Muggle!"

They continued to walk forward, and the buildings on both sides of the street were generally much lower. This is true in both the magical world and the Muggle world. When people deviate from the area where money is concentrated, mediocrity and even simplicity are the world now.

the main tone.

Finally, they came to a desolate small street, where there were only a few shabby-looking, closed old shops, a tavern and a dump truck that was almost overflowing.

On the opposite side, there is a small parking lot with only a dilapidated private car parked.

Harry had thought that the Ministry of Magic was in a much grander place! It seemed that they were more concerned about avoiding too much contact with Muggles.

"Here we are," Mr. Weasley said happily, pointing to a dilapidated red phone booth with several pieces of glass missing.

The back of the phone booth was close to a wall that had been painted over.

With an inadvertent glance, Harry also saw some small rectangular stickers posted on the wall. The pictures on the stickers made him blush, and then he looked away with difficulty.

"You go in first, Harry." Mr. Weasley stepped forward, reached out and opened the door of the phone booth.

Harry walked in doubtfully. When he was doubtful, Mr. Weasley squeezed in and stood beside him, and closed the door behind him.

It’s so crowded in here!

Harry was pressed against the wall-mounted payphone, which hung crookedly on the wall as if a vandal had tried to tear it off.

Mr. Weasley reached over Harry's shoulder and reluctantly picked up the receiver of the phone.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry couldn't help but say, "I think the phone may be broken too..."

"No, there is none. The Ministry of Magic will send people to regularly inspect and maintain important magical items like this." Mr. Weasley said, raising the microphone above his head and looking at the rotary dial, "Let me think about it...

"

"This...well, next is this...and this, and this..."

As the dial clicked and turned again and again, and then reset automatically, a cold female voice sounded from the phone booth.

But Harry felt that it was not coming from the microphone. The voice was loud and clear, as if an invisible woman was standing beside them.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and the reason for your visit."

"Huh?" Mr. Weasley looked at the receiver in his hand and then at the crooked telephone, obviously not sure where to speak.

After hesitating for a few moments, he put the receiver to his mouth and said: "Arthur Weasley, Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts - came with Harry Potter, and the department asked him to come over for trial.

.”

"Thank you," the cold female voice said, "Guest, please pick up your badge and pin it to your front."

Following the jingling sound, Harry saw a small object slipping out of the metal groove of the coin return slot.

He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with the words "Harry Potter - Trial" written on it.

When Harry took the badge and put it on his T-shirt, the woman's voice sounded again.

"Visitors of the Ministry of Magic, you need to go to the security checkpoint to be checked and register your wand - the security checkpoint is located at the end of the main hall."

Before he finished speaking, his feet suddenly started to vibrate, slowly sinking them into the ground.

Harry looked at the glass partition wall of the phone booth in surprise. The sidewalk was rising higher and higher. Soon the surroundings became dark and nothing could be seen.

In the darkness, only the harsh grinding sound that continued to linger in his ears proved that they were still moving. But if he asked whether they were still moving vertically, Harry couldn't answer it at all.

It was probably more than a minute, but it felt like it was much longer than that.

When a thin golden light hit Harry's feet, he let out a long breath involuntarily.

Then, the golden light gradually widened and extended to his body. Soon, Harry had to squint his eyes to adapt to the sudden light.

"The Ministry of Magic hopes you have a pleasant day."

After the cold female voice said the last words, the door of the phone booth suddenly opened. Mr. Weasley walked out first, followed by Harry, who was so surprised at the scene around him that he could hardly close his mouth from ear to ear.

But even so, he still touched his sleeve subconsciously.