Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

When Harry and Mr. Weasley came out of Black's old house together, Skyrim just gave a slight light. Looking up, the air was gray, and the air seemed to be soaked by night dew, showing a cold in the morning.

The two staggered their paces, gently walking around the square and walking outside the residential area.

"Where is the Ministry? How do we get there?" After taking two silent steps, Harry seemed to want to loosen a tense nerve and asked suddenly.

"No one knows the exact location, except that it is somewhere underground ... Our employees are usually apparated to work," Mr. Weasley explained casually, "but obviously you won't."

"Also, we'd better go there through the visitor entrance. After all, you're going to be tried. It's better if you don't use magic to avoid leaving a bad impression on the normal Ministry staff."

Mr. Weasley had his hand in his jacket as he walked, and Harry knew he must have a wand in his hand.

There were almost no people on the run-down streets, and the floor tiles were wet, and it seemed that there was a light rain last night.

But when they walked into that shabby but inconspicuous subway station, they found that it was already full of Muggle passengers who went to work in the morning.

Mr. Weasley has always liked Muggles and Muggle Machinery products in particular, and this is the biggest reason why he stays honestly at the "Muggle Supplies Prohibition Division" without complaining.

Now that both are in place, it's no wonder he's a little hard to restrain his deep interest-every time he finds himself close to Muggles who are dealing with daily affairs.

"It's incredible," he said excitedly, pointing at the ticket machine in front of him. "It's amazing!"

"It's broken." Harry pointed to the sign.

"Is that so? But even ..." said Mr. Weasley, looking fondly at the troubled ticket machines.

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

Harry had to pull Mr. Weasley to get him out of the ticket machines.

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

"Oh!" Mr. Weasley then turned around, and said utterly, "Yes, buy a ticket! I probably remember ..." He said, took a handful of pounds out of his pocket, and looked over and over, "Uh ... although I've been wondering, I still can't tell the par value of these Muggle currencies ..."

"Let's do it!" Harry reached for the lavish pounds and looked up again. "Well, where should we go?"

"Central London," Mr. Weasley replied immediately, "Well, if I remember correctly-this is the first time I've been through the visitor entrance."

Listening to Mr. Weasley's words, Harry couldn't help praying in his heart, I hope he won't be late because he can't find the entrance!

Bought a subway ticket from a sleepy administrator, and five minutes later they boarded the subway. The old subway carried them, and they drove towards the centre of London.

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

There was a flash of inexplicable look on his face.

"There are four more stops ... Harry has three more stops now ... Two more stops, Harry ..."

Under Mr. Weasley's curious and tense thoughts, the Muggle passengers around him looked at him in confusion. Obviously, his neurotic murmur was loud enough.

"Mr. Weasley, you won't miss the site. We can just sit down." Harry couldn't help but had to lower his voice to remind him, "They're all watching you!"

"Oh! Really?" Mr. Weasley immediately pulled his gaze from the road map and looked around. "Seriously, I actually want to make some Muggle friends ..."

They got off at a stop in central London.

The subway platform in the city center is of course bustling and crowded. Here the crowd is crowded. Harry and Weasley are pushed out of the subway by countless men and women with briefcases and briefcases.

"Oh! If I didn't know Muggles wouldn't be magic, I would have thought it was a magical staircase." Standing on the escalator with Harry, Mr. Weasley admired it.

"Wow! This little thing is awesome!"

As they passed through the turnstile at the ticket gate, they personally experienced Mr. Weasley who had been swallowed by the ticket gate, and even clapped his hands with an eyebrow.

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

Both sides of the street are majestic and magnificent buildings, various street shops and large billboards are colorful, and the street is already full of traffic.

"What is this place?"

Standing on the street, looking at the crowds and vehicles coming and going, Mr. Weasley looked blank.

"what?"

Harry thought that despite Mr. Weasley's frequent check on the subway route map, they got off at the wrong station, and suddenly his heart stopped beating.

Fortunately, Mr. Weasley said, "Ah! Oh ... yes, go this way, Harry."

Then, he turned around and led Harry for a distance, then turned into a side street.

"Sorry," unlike Harry's nervousness, Mr. Weasley exclaimed with excitement, "I've never taken the subway! And, with Muggle's eyes, everything is completely different."

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

They continued to move forward, and the buildings on both sides of the street were generally lower. This is true in both the magic world and the Muggle world. When people deviate from the concentrated area of ​​money, mediocrity and even humbleness are the main tone of the world right now.

Finally, they came to a desolate side street with only a few dilapidated offices, a tavern, and a dump truck that was almost full.

Opposite, there is a small parking lot with only a worn-out private car.

Harry thought the Ministry of Magic was in a much more grand place! It seems that they are more considering avoiding excessive contact with Muggles.

"Here it is," Mr. Weasley said happily, pointing to a worn red telephone booth-several pieces of glass were missing.

The back of the telephone booth was clinging to a messy wall.

After an inadvertent glance, Harry also saw some small rectangular stickers attached to the wall. The pictures on the stickers made him blush, and then he looked away arduously.

"You go ahead, Harry." Mr. Weasley stepped forward and opened the door of the telephone booth.

Harry walked in doubt, and when he was puzzled, Mr. Weasley stepped in and stood beside him, closing the door with his backhand.

It ’s so crowded inside!

Harry was squeezed onto the wall-mounted coin-operated phone, and the phone was hanging crookedly on the wall, as if there was a guy who broke the public property trying to tear it off.

Mr. Weasley reached over Harry's shoulder and barely picked up the handset of the phone.

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

"No, no, the Ministry of Magic will send regular inspections and maintenance to important magic items like this." Mr. Weasley said, raising the microphone above his head, looking at the rotary dial, "Let me think ... "

"This ... well, here comes this ... and this, and this ..."

As the dial "Kala La" was turned again and again, and then automatically reset, a cold female voice sounded in the telephone booth.

But Harry didn't think the sound came from the microphone Mr. Weasley held. The sound was loud and clear, as if an invisible woman was standing beside them.

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

"Huh?" Mr. Weasley looked at the handset and looked at the crooked telephone, apparently not sure where to speak.

After a few hesitations, he still leaned the receiver against his mouth, and said, "Arthur Weasley ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ Muggle Substance Abuse Prevention Division—is accompanying Harry Potter , The ministry asked him to come to trial. "

"Thank you," said the indifferent female voice. "Guest, please pick up the badge, not in front of your placket."

With the movement of Ding Lingdang, Harry saw a small thing slide out of the metal groove of the coin exit.

He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with the words "Harry Potter, tried".

The woman's voice rang again when Harry took the badge to the front of the T-shirt.

"Guests of the Ministry of Magic, you need to be checked at the security desk and register your magic wand-the security desk is at the end of the main hall."

The voice didn't fall, the ground of the telephone booth suddenly shook and took them slowly to the ground.

Harry watched in astonishment as the sidewalk outside the glass wall of the phone booth rose higher and higher, and soon it became dark and invisible.

In the dark, only the harsh rubbing sounds that lingered in the ears proved that they were still moving. But if he was still moving vertically, Harry couldn't answer at all.

It was more than a minute after the time passed, but it felt much longer than that.

When a thin layer of gold hit Harry's feet, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

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

"The Ministry wants you to have a good day today."

The last word of the indifferent female voice finished, and the door of the telephone booth opened suddenly. Mr. Weasley walked out first, and Harry followed, staring at the surrounding scene with astonishment.

But even so, he touched his sleeves subconsciously.