HP Magic Biography

Good morning, Weasley, Kingsley greeted cautiously as they approached. Do you have a second, I have something to say to you.

Yes, if for a second, said Mr. Weasley, I'm a bit busy at the moment. They were talking, but it seemed difficult to communicate, and when Harry wanted to say hello to Kensley At that moment, Mr. Weasley stepped on Harry's foot. They followed Kingsley all the way in to an innermost single room.

To Harry's surprise, there are so many photos here, it looks like a reference room, and Harry even found a photo of Sirius in the corner.

Here, Kingsley said curtly to Mr. Weasley, and thrust a bundle of parchment into Mr. Weasley's hand.

I've spent the past twelve months gathering as much information as I can about Muggle flying engines. We've had reports that Black is still using his old motorcycle.

Kingsley winked at Harry a few times, then added in a low voice, Give him that magazine, and he'll find it interesting.

Then he said in a normal tone: Don't take too long, Weasley, the delay in that ham report took us a month to investigate.

If you've read my report you should know that thing is a fire arm, said Mr. Weasley dryly, and I'm afraid you'll have to wait for news of the motorcycle, we're busy at the moment.

He said in a low voice, Molly made meatballs if you can leave by seven o'clock.

This looks like a secret secret deal for secret agents, and although Harry doesn't know what it means to have a picture of Sirius in the corner of the Auror's office, it's interesting that the Ministry of Magic would embarrass the little one for an unrelated Muggle item. Sirius?

or……

That bike belongs to Hagrid...

He led Harry out of Kingsley's single room, through a second oak door into another unit, turned left, passed the next corridor, and turned right into a dimly lit, visibly dilapidated corridor. At last they reached a dead-end street with a slightly ajar door to their left, which was an open broom cupboard, and on the door to their right hung a nasty tarnished brass sign that read: NO Proper use of the Muggle Artifacts Office.

Mr. Weasley's scruffy office looked smaller than the broom cupboard opposite. Two desks were crowded inside, and there was a row of over-stuffed cabinets against the wall, with just enough space in the middle for them to barely pass through, and a large number of documents were stacked on top of each cabinet. In the little space left on the wall there are several things that fascinate Mr. Weasley: several pictures of cars, including a dismantled engine, two clippings from Muggle children's books A diagram of the mailbox that came down; and a diagram showing how to wrap the socket.

On the desk opposite Mr. Weasley was a picture of an old drunk, belching morosely and twiddling an empty pair of leather gloves with his thumb. Next to the plate was a family photo of the Weasleys.

Harry noticed that Percy seemed to have walked away from it.

We don't have windows here, Mr. Weasley said apologetically. He took off the jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. We applied, but they don't seem to think we need a window here, Harry, look no further, Perkins hasn't come yet.

Harry was squeezing into the chair behind Perkins' desk as Mr. Weasley was flipping through the parchment Kingsley had just handed him.

Ha, Weasley smiled, after taking a bit from a magazine called Catching, yes, he's right, and I'm sure Sirius would find it amusing - oh, Honey, what time is it?

An internal email just flew in through the open door and landed on the picture of the belching alcoholic. Mr. Weasley opened the letter and read it aloud.

Bisnell Green reports 3rd public restroom with backflow. This is ridiculous

A backwash bathroom?

An anti-Muggle joke, said Mr. Weasley, frowning. We dealt with two last week, one at Wimbledon and one at Elephant Castle. When the Muggles were about to flush It all went away—yes, you can imagine. The shit kept coming up—I think they should be called plumbers—you know, the guys who fix plumbing.”

Plumber?

Correct, yes, of course they'll be terrified, just hope we catch a few of the perpetrators.

Won't the Aurors go after them?

Oh no, these things are too trivial to alarm the Aurors, it falls under the jurisdiction of the General Magical Law Enforcement Patrol - ah, Harry, this is Perkins.

A stooped, shy-looking old wizard with a grizzled beard had just entered the room, panting for breath.

Oh, Arthur! he cried desperately, without looking at Harry, thank God, I don't know how best to handle this, whether to wait for you. I just sent an owl to your house, but soon Evidently you didn't get it—an urgent letter came ten minutes ago—

I know, about the backflush bathroom thing, said Mr. Weasley.

No, no, about Potter's son hearing - they've changed the time and place - it's now at eight o'clock, downstairs in old Inquisition Ten -

Ten downstairs...but they told me - Merlin's beard! Mr Weasley looked at his watch, let out a squeal and jumped out of his chair. Quick, Harry, we should have been there five minutes ago. get there!

Perkins pressed his back against the cupboard to make Mr. Weasley run out of the office, Harry following closely behind.

Why did they change the time? Harry asked breathlessly as they passed through the Auror booth. People turned their heads away and stared at them as they passed quickly. Harry felt all his senses still lodged in Perkins' desk.

I don't know, but thank God we came early enough, if you miss the hearing, the consequences will be disastrous! Mr. Weasley slammed on the brakes in front of an elevator and poked the down button restlessly. .

Come on! The elevator rattled into view, and they ran in quickly. Every time the elevator stopped, Mr. Weasley would curse angrily and pound the button on the ninth floor with his fist.

Those Inquisitions haven't been used for years, said Mr. Weasley angrily, I can't see why they'd hold hearings there - unless - but no -

At this moment, a fat witch walked into the elevator with a smoking goblet. Mr. Weasley didn't look at her carefully.

Atrium, said the icy female voice, and the golden latticed door opened, and Harry glanced far away at the fountain with the golden statue. The fat witch went out, and at the same time a sallow-skinned wizard entered with a sad face.

Morning, Arthur, he said in a deadpan voice as the lift began to descend, it's not often I see you coming down here.

A matter of urgency, Poddy, said Mr. Weasley, who was stamping his feet anxiously and looking at Harry worriedly.

Ah, yes, Poddy looked at Harry without blinking, of course.

Harry was barely in the mood for Boddy right now, and his unblinking stare didn't make Harry feel any more comfortable.

Mystery department, the female voice said, and the door opened. Come on, Harry, said Mr. Weasley as the irritating lift doors opened.

They quickly ran down a hallway. This hallway looks completely different from the one above. The walls were bare, without windows or doors, except for a black picture of a prairie at the end of the corridor.

Harry thought they were going to pass through here, but Mr. Weasley grabbed his hand and dragged him to the left, where there was an open stair step.

Get down here, get down here Mr. Weasley shouted out of breath, rushing down two steps at the same time.

The elevator can't go down so far, why are they doing this here, I...

They ran to the bottom of the stairs and down another corridor that bore many unsavory similarities to Snape's dungeon at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Both have rough stone walls and torches protruding from the walls. Here they passed heavy wooden doors with iron bolts and keyholes.

Inquisition Ten I think we're almost there... yes. Mr. Weasley slammed on the brakes in front of a dirty black gate with a large lock, leaning against the wall wearily, hands clenched Holding on to the chest.

Go in, he said breathlessly, pointing with his thumb to the door,

right here.

No—won't you come in with me—?

No, no, I'm not allowed to enter, but don't worry, as I said before, you didn't do anything wrong, but I have to remind you, don't say unnecessary words during the trial, it will hurt you Good thing, what they ask, you just need to answer truthfully, after all, we have nothing to be afraid of... Good luck!

Harry nodded, his chest heaved violently twice, as if he wanted to calm himself down and digest what others had taught him.

It didn't seem to help, though, at least in Harry's own mind, and no thought was going to work when faced with the ancient door.

Feeling his heart pounding in his throat, Harry, parched and struggling to swallow, turned the heavy iron doorknob and walked into the courtroom.