Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

When Harry and Mr. Weasley came out of the Black House together, the sky just gave birth to a little light.When I looked up, it was gray, and the air seemed to be soaked in night dew, revealing the early morning cold.

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

"Where is the Ministry of Magic? How do we get there?" After taking two steps silently, Harry suddenly asked, seeming to want to relax his tight nerves.

"No one knows the exact location, but it's somewhere deep underground... Clerks like us usually apparate to work," Mr. Weasley explained casually, "but obviously you won't."

"Also, we'd better go there through the visitor entrance. After all, you are going to be tried. If you don't use magic, it's better not to leave a bad impression on the normal Ministry of Magic staff."

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

There was almost no one on the dilapidated street, and the floor tiles were a little wet, and it seemed that there had been a light rain last night.

But when they walked into the shabby and unremarkable subway station, they found that it was already full of Muggle passengers working in the morning.

Mr. Weasley has always been particularly fond of Muggles and Muggle machinery. This is also the biggest reason why he stays in the Department of Prohibition of Abuse of Muggle Supplies without complaining.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh!" Mr. Weasley turned his head and said suddenly, "Yes, buy a ticket! I probably remember that..." He said, taking out a handful of pounds from his pocket and looking over and over. "Uh...Although I have been thinking about it, I still can't distinguish the denominations of these Muggle currencies..."

"Let me come!" 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-I also went through the visitor entrance for the first time."

Hearing what Mr. Weasley said, Harry couldn't help but prayed in his heart. I hope he won't be late for a while because he can't find the entrance!

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

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

On his face, an inexplicable look faintly flashed.

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

Under Mr. Weasley's curious and nervous muttering, the surrounding Muggle passengers looked at him suspiciously.Obviously, his neurotic muttering was loud enough to attract attention.

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

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

They got off the bus at a stop in central London.

The subway platform in the city center is of course bustling and crowded. There is a crowd here, and Harry and Mr. Weasley are pushed out of the subway by countless well-dressed men and women carrying briefcases.

"Oh! If I didn't know that Muggles can't make magic, I would really think it was a magic staircase." Standing on the escalator with Harry, Mr. Weasley exclaimed without losing the opportunity.

"Wow! This little thing is awesome!"

When they passed the turnstile at the ticket gate, they experienced Mr. Weasley who was swallowed by the ticket gate and even clapped his hands with a smile.

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

There are majestic and majestic buildings on both sides of the street, various shops and large billboards along the street are gorgeous and colorful, and the street is already busy.

"What is this place?"

Standing on the side of the street, watching the crowds and vehicles coming and going, Mr. Weasley was actually at a loss.

"what?"

Harry thought that even though Mr. Weasley checked the subway map so frequently, they had gotten to the wrong station, and his heart stopped beating with fright.

Fortunately, Mr. Weasley said immediately afterwards: "Ah! Oh... by the way, this way, Harry."

With that said, he turned and led Harry for a distance, then turned into a fork in the street.

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

"... Honestly, 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 for both the magical world and the Muggle world. When people deviate from the concentrated area of ​​money, mediocrity and even simplicity are the main tone of this world.

Finally, they came to a bleak side street, where there were only a few seemingly tattered offices, a tavern and a dump truck that was about to overflow.

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

Harry thought the Ministry of Magic was in a much more magnificent place!It seems that they are still thinking about avoiding too much contact with Muggles.

"Here." Mr. Weasley said happily, pointing to a dilapidated red phone booth-several pieces of glass were gone.

The phone booth was clinging to a messy wall on the back.

Under inadvertent glances, Harry also saw some small rectangular stickers on the wall. The pictures on the stickers made his face flushed, and then he looked away with difficulty.

"You go in first, Harry." Mr. Weasley stepped forward, reaching out and opening the phone booth door.

Harry walked in doubtfully, and when he was puzzled, Mr. Weasley also squeezed in and stood beside him, and closed the door with his backhand.

It's so crowded in here!

Harry was squeezed against the wall-mounted coin phone, which hung slantingly on the wall, as if a vandal once tried to pull it off.

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

"Mr. Weasley," Harry couldn't help but, "I think this phone might also be broken..."

"No, no, like these important magic items, the Ministry of Magic will send people to inspect and maintain them regularly." Mr. Weasley said, raising the microphone above his head, looking at the rotary dial, "Let me think... "

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

As the dial "clicks" was turned again and again, and then automatically reset, an indifferent female voice rang in the phone booth.

But Harry felt that the voice didn't come from the microphone Mr. Weasley was holding. It 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 slanted telephone, obviously not sure where to speak.

After hesitating for a few moments, he leaned the receiver indiscriminately to his mouth and said, "Arthur Weasley, the Department of Muggle Objects Prohibition—I came with Harry Potter and the ministry asked him to come. On trial."

"Thank you," the indifferent female said, "Guest, please pick up the badge and don't put it on your coat."

As Ding Ling was clamoring for a while, Harry saw a small object slip out of the metal groove of the coin refund port.

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

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

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

Before the voice fell, the ground of the phone booth suddenly vibrated, leading them to sink into the ground slowly.

Harry watched in surprise as the sidewalk outside the glass wall of the phone booth rose higher and higher, and soon the surroundings became pitch black and there was nothing to see.

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

It's probably more than a minute after time, but it feels much longer than that.

When a thin golden light shone on Harry's feet, he could not help but breathe a sigh of relief.

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

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

After the indifferent female voice finished her last sentence, the door of the phone booth opened sharply.Mr. Weasley walked out first, and Harry followed behind him, almost crying from ear to ear as he watched the scene around him.

But even so, he subconsciously touched the sleeve.