HP Approaches the Magic World

"Ah, Mafalda!"

Umbridge looked at Hermione and said, "Travers asked you to come, right?"

"Yes - yes." Hermione whispered.

"Okay, you will do well."

Umbridge turned to a wizard wearing a black robe embellished with gold and said: "That solves the problem, Minister, if Mafalda can take notes, we can start now."

She looked at the clipboard: "There are ten people today, and one of them is the wife of a Ministry of Magic employee!

Tsk, tut... right here, inside the Ministry of Magic!"

She walked into the elevator and stood next to Hermione, followed by two other wizards who were listening to the conversation between Umbridge and the Minister.

"Let's go straight down, Mafalda, everything you need is available in the courtroom.

Good morning, Albert, aren’t you going out?”

"Out, of course."

Harry said in Lencowan's deep voice.

Harry stepped out of the elevator.

The golden gate clanged shut behind them.

He turned around and saw Hermione's anxious face lowered again. On one side was a tall wizard with Umbridge's velvet bow reaching to Hermione's shoulders.

"What's your business here, Runcorn?"

The new Minister of Magic asked. There were strands of silver in his long black hair and beard, and the shadow of his forehead covered his twinkling eyes, making Harry think of a crab looking out from under the rock.

"I'm looking for," Harry hesitated for a few tenths of a second: "I'm looking for a word with Arthur Weasley.

Some say he is on the first floor."

"ah,"

Piers Thicknesse said: "Has he been caught talking to bad people?"

"No," Harry said with a dry throat, "No, it's not."

"Ah...hum, it's just a matter of time,"

Thicknesse said in a low voice: "If you ask me, a pure-blood traitor is as bad as a mudblood.

Goodbye, Runcorn."

"Goodbye, Minister."

Harry watched Thicknesse walk away down the thickly carpeted passage.

As soon as the minister disappeared, Harry took out the Invisibility Cloak from under his heavy black robe, put it on his body, and walked in the opposite direction.

Runcorn was so tall that Harry had to bend down to make sure his big feet weren't exposed.

Fear struck him in waves as he passed by bright wooden doors one after another. On each door there was a small sign with the name and position of the person in the room.

The majesty, complexity and inscrutability of the Ministry of Magic seemed to overwhelm him, making the plan of action carefully planned by him and Ron and Hermione for four weeks seem like ridiculous child's play.

They focused all their attention on how to sneak in, but they never thought about what they would do if they were forced to separate.

Now Hermione was stuck in court, which would undoubtedly drag on for hours;

Ron was struggling with magic that Harry knew was beyond his capabilities, and a woman's freedom might depend on his performance;

As for Harry, he was still wandering on the top floor, knowing that the person he was looking for had just taken the elevator down.

He stopped and leaned against the wall, trying to decide what to do.

Silence oppressed him: there was no sound of busyness, voices, or hurried footsteps. The corridors covered with purple-red carpets were silent, as if a listening spell had been cast to close the ears.

Her office must be here, Harry thought.

It seemed unlikely that Umbridge hid the jewelry in her office, but it seemed foolish not to search for it to make sure.

So he walked along the corridor again, and all he saw on the way was a frowning wizard who was mumbling something to a quill, and the pen was writing rapidly on a roll of parchment in front of him.

Harry began to pay attention to the name on the door. After turning a corner and walking for a while, the passage opened into a spacious area.

A dozen witches and wizards sat in front of rows of small tables. The tables were similar to school desks, only much smoother and without traces of graffiti.

Harry couldn't help but stop and watch, because the sight had a hypnotic effect.

The wizards waved and turned their wands in unison, and many square colored papers floated in the air like small pink kites.

After a few seconds, Harry realized that this was a rhythmic procedure, and that the confetti gathered and dispersed in a certain pattern.

After a few more seconds, he realized that he was watching the production process of the booklet. Those square papers were pages of content, gathered and folded, fastened with magic, and then neatly stacked next to each wizard.

Harry approached quietly. In fact, the wizards were so focused on their work that he doubted they would notice the sound of his footsteps, which was weakened by the carpet.

He secretly took a bound pamphlet from a young witch and took it into the invisibility cloak to read.

The pink cover is printed with an eye-catching title in gold letters:

Mudblood

Threat to peaceful pureblood society

Below is a painting of a red rose being tightly strangled by a green grass with fangs and a fierce look, and in the center of the petals is a silly face.

There was no signature on the pamphlet, but the scar on the back of Harry's right hand stung faintly.

At this time, the witch beside him confirmed his inner suspicion. She waved and turned her wand and said, "Is the old witch going to be there interrogating mudbloods all day? Does anyone know?"

"Be careful."

The wizard next to her looked around uneasily and said that a piece of his paper fell to the ground.

"Why, not only does she have a magic eye, but now she also has magic ears?"

The witch glanced at the polished mahogany door opposite the pamphleteers.

Harry also looked over there, and an anger surged up in his chest like a poisonous snake.

On the Muggle door where the door mirror was, there was a large round eyeball with a bright blue iris embedded in the mahogany, which would be shockingly familiar to anyone who knew Alastor Moody.

In that moment, Harry forgot where he was, what he was doing, and even that he was invisible.

He strode to the door and looked at the eye. It no longer moved, but stared blankly upward. The sign below read:

Dolores Umbridge

Senior Undersecretary of Magic

There is also a new, brighter sign at the bottom:

Director, Muggle-Born Registration Board

Harry looked back at the dozen wizards who were making pamphlets. Although they were all busy working, it was hard to imagine that no one would notice if the door of an empty office opened in front of them.

So, he took out a strange-shaped object from his inner pocket.

It has swinging legs and its body is a spherical rubber horn.

Harry knelt down under the invisibility cloak and placed the decoy bomb on the floor.

The decoy bomb immediately moved and quickly passed between the calves of the wizards.

Harry put his hand on the doorknob and waited. After a while, he heard a loud noise and a large amount of choking black smoke poured out from a corner.

The young witch in the front row screamed, and pink pages flew everywhere. She and her companions jumped to their feet, looking around for the source of the chaos.

Harry took the opportunity to turn the doorknob, stepped into Umbridge's office, and closed the door behind him.

He felt as if he had stepped back in time. The room looked exactly like Umbridge's office at Hogwarts: lace curtains, decorative rugs and dried flowers covered every possible surface, and the same flower plates were on the walls.

, the pattern is a brightly colored big cat wearing a bow, jumping and playing there, making it disgusting.

The table was covered with a ruffled and floral tablecloth.

There was a telescope-like device attached to the back of Mad-Eye's eyeballs, allowing Umbridge to spy on employees outside the door.

Harry took a closer look and saw that they were still gathered around the decoy bomb. He pulled the binoculars off the door, leaving a hole in the door.

He took off the magic eye and put it in his pocket, then turned to face the room, raised his wand and whispered: "Here comes the locket."

There was no movement, but he didn't expect any. Umbridge was undoubtedly very proficient in protective spells.

He hurriedly walked behind the desk, opened the drawers, and saw quills, notebooks and correction tapes;

Enchanted paper clips snaked out of the drawer and he had to fight them back;

There is also an elegant little lace box filled with bows and hairpins; the locket is missing.

There was a filing cabinet behind the desk, and Harry went to look through it.

It was like one of those filing cabinets owned by Filch, the Hogwarts warden, filled with folders, each with a name on it.

Harry searched all the way to the bottom drawer when he saw something that distracted him: Mr. Weasley's file.

He pulled it out and opened it.

Arthur Weasley

Bloodline: Pure blood, but with intolerable pro-Muggle tendencies.

Known members of the Order of the Phoenix.

Family: Wife (pure blood), seven children, the youngest two are still at Hogwarts.

Note: The youngest son is currently seriously ill at home, which has been confirmed by the Ministry of Magic inspector.

Security status: Tracking.

All actions are monitored.

The most likely contact was with the most delinquent person (who once stayed at the Weasley house.)

"The number one delinquent."

Harry murmured softly, put Mr. Weasley's file back and closed the drawer.

He knew who he was referring to, and sure enough, when he straightened up and searched for any other hiding places in the house, he saw a large portrait of himself on the wall, with the words "Number One Undesirable Person" printed on the chest.

There was also a small pink note with a kitten drawn on one corner attached to the painting.

Harry walked over to look and found that Umbridge had written the words "shall be punished" on it.

He became even more angry and groped in the vase and basket of dried flowers, but did not find the locket, which did not surprise him.

He glanced around the office for the last time, and suddenly his heart stopped: on the bookshelf beside the table, Dumbledore was looking at him from a small rectangular mirror.

Harry rushed over and grabbed it, but as soon as he touched it he realized that it was not a mirror, but Dumbledore was smiling thoughtfully on the glossy cover of a book.

Harry didn't notice the green squiggles on his hat: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, nor did he see the smaller words on his chest: Rita Skeeter, the best-selling book "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore"

Author of Armando Duppet: Master or Idiot?

Harry opened the book casually and saw a photo of two teenage boys, holding each other's shoulders and laughing wildly.

Dumbledore's hair has grown to his elbows, and he also has a light mustache, which reminds people of the thin beard on Krum's chin that Ron hates so much.

The boy laughing silently next to Dumbledore gave off a happy and wild look, with his golden curly hair hanging down to his shoulders.

Harry wondered if he was Dorje in his youth, but before he could read the description, the office door opened.

If Thickness hadn't turned around and looked outside when he came in, Harry wouldn't have had time to put on the invisibility cloak.

However, he thought Thicknesse might have caught a glimpse of movement, because he stood motionless for a moment, staring in wonder at the spot where Harry had just disappeared, perhaps concluding that what he had just seen was Dumbledore scratching the cover.

Scratching his nose (Harry had already hastily put the book back on the shelf).

Thicknesse finally walked to the table and pointed his wand at the quill in the inkwell. It immediately jumped out and began to write a note to Umbridge.

Harry held his breath, slowly exited the office, and returned to the spacious area.

The wizards who made the pamphlets were still gathered around the remains of the decoy bomb.

It was smoking and whining faintly. Harry walked quickly into the corridor and heard the young witch say: "I guess it must have crawled over from the Experimental Spells Committee. They are so careless and remember the poisonous one."

Duck?”

Harry hurried toward the elevator while considering his options.

It was unlikely that the locket was in the Ministry of Magic, and Umbridge was sitting in a courtroom filled with people, and there was no hope of using magic to find the whereabouts of the locket from her.

The top priority now is to evacuate the Ministry of Magic before being exposed and try again another day.

We must first find Ron, and then work together to find a way to get Hermione out of the court.

The elevator came, but there was no one inside.

Harry jumped in and pulled off the invisibility cloak as he began his descent.

To his great relief, when the elevator screeched to a stop on the second floor, Ron stepped in, soaked to the skin and with eyes wide open.

"Good morning."

He stammered, and the elevator started moving again.

"Ron, it's me, Harry!"

"Harry! Oh my gosh, I forgot what you looked like - why isn't Hermione here?"

"She went downstairs to the courtroom with Umbridge, couldn't refuse, and—"

But before Harry could finish speaking, the elevator stopped again.

As soon as the door opened, Mr. Weasley walked in, still talking to an old witch, whose light yellow hair bun was as high as an anthill.

"...I understand the situation you are talking about, Wakanda, but I'm afraid I can't participate -"

Mr. Weasley stopped suddenly because he saw Harry.

It was a very strange feeling to have Mr. Weasley staring at him with such disgust.

The elevator door closed, and the four people snored down again.

"Oh, hello, Reggie," Mr. Weasley heard the sound of Ron's robe dripping and turned around and said, "Isn't your wife going to court today?

Hey - what's wrong with you? Are you so wet?"

"It's raining in Yaxley's office,"

Ron said over Mr. Weasley's shoulder, and Harry thought he must be afraid that his father would recognize him if their eyes met: "I couldn't help it, they asked me to find Bernie Pillsworth,

I think they said—"

"Yes, it has been raining in many offices recently," Mr. Weasley said, "Have you tried the Cloud Spell to withdraw it? Blackie used it very well."

"Withdraw the cloud curse?" Ron whispered: "I haven't tried it, thank you, old - I mean, thank you, Arthur."

The door opened, and the old witch with the anthill on her head stepped out of the elevator. Ron rushed past her and disappeared. Harry wanted to follow him, but was blocked. Percy Weasley stepped into the elevator with his nose broken.

It was almost buried in the document he was reading.

The door clanged shut, and Percy realized that he and his father had taken the same elevator.

He raised his eyes and saw Mr. Weasley, his face turned red and he walked out as soon as the elevator door opened.

Harry thought about it again, but this time he was blocked by Mr. Weasley's arm.

"Wait a minute, Runcorn."

The elevator door closed, and when it clanged down to another level, Mr. Weasley said: "I heard you exposed Dirk Cresswell."

Harry felt that Mr. Weasley's anger was only aggravated by meeting Percy, and he decided that the safest way was to play dumb.

"what did you say?"

"Stop pretending, Runcorn," Mr. Weasley said angrily: "You hunted down the wizard who forged the family tree, didn't you?"

"So what if I-- am?"

"How about it?

Dirk Cresswell is ten times better than you as a wizard!" Mr. Weasley whispered, while the elevator was still descending: "If he can come out of Azkaban, he will settle the score with you, let alone

His wife, children and friends—"

"Arthur," Harry interrupted: "Do you know that you are being followed?"

"Is this a threat? Runcorn?"

"No," said Harry, "it's true! They're watching your every move—"

The elevator door opened and they had arrived in the lobby.

Mr. Weasley gave Harry a stern look and walked away.

Harry stood there blankly, hoping that he was not impersonating Runcorn... The elevator door clanged shut.

Harry took out the Invisibility Cloak and put it on again. Ron was still dealing with the rainy office. He had to find a way to rescue Hermione alone.

After the elevator door opened, he stepped into a stone corridor lit by torches, which was completely different from the carpeted corridor with wooden walls on the upper floor.

The elevator clanged away, and Harry shuddered slightly, looking at the black door in the distance that marked the entrance to the Department of Mysteries.

He walked forward, his target was not the black door, but the doorway on the left in his memory.

There is a flight of stairs down to the courtroom.

As he quietly went downstairs, he imagined various possibilities in his mind: He still had two decoy bombs, but maybe it would be better to knock on the door directly, go in as Runcorn and ask to speak to Mafalda?

Of course, he didn't know whether Runcorn had such great power. Even if it could be done, Hermione's failure to return might trigger a search before they could evacuate the Ministry of Magic...

With his thoughts on his mind, he didn't immediately feel an unusual chill creeping over him, as if he was falling into a mist. Every step he took made him feel colder.

The cold air poured into his throat and pierced his heart and lungs. He felt the despair and helplessness invade his heart and spread throughout his body...

Dementors.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, turn right and see a terrifying scene in front of you.

The dark corridor outside the court door was filled with tall, dark figures wearing hoods, their faces completely covered, and harsh breathing was the only sound there.

The Muggle-born wizards who were summoned to appear in court were huddled together in fear and shivering on the hardwood bench outside. They looked a little weird and uncomfortable.

Because many people covered their faces with their hands, perhaps instinctively trying to ward off the dementors' greedy mouth, this situation seemed a bit miserable, at least in his eyes, a bit uncomfortable.

The people were crowded together, some accompanied by family members, others sitting alone.

The dementors were floating in front of them, and the cold air, the helplessness and despair were approaching Harry like a spell...

Resist, he told himself, but he knew that if he summoned the patron saint here, he would be exposed immediately.

So he walked forward as quietly as possible, and with every step he took, the numbness in his mind increased, but he forced himself to think about Hermione and Ron, they needed him.

It was terrifying to walk among those tall dark shadows: as he passed, eyeless faces turned under their hoods, and he was sure they could feel him, perhaps feel what was still inside a person's body.

Some hope, some vitality...

Suddenly, in the frozen silence, the door of a courtroom on the left side of the aisle opened, and echoing shouts came out.