Chapter 296

For those who first understand the architecture of the Ministry of magic, it may be difficult to understand for a moment. As the "face" of the Ministry of magic, the atrium is located on the eighth floor underground, and the whole Ministry of magic seems to have a total of ten floors.

But if the whole underground one to eight floors are "pulled out" from the ground, it is not much different from the layered concept of Muggle architecture.

After gradually adapting to the surrounding brightness, Harry found himself standing in the middle of a wide and winding passage.

Although the passage is actually very spacious, it seems crowded when there are many people.

On both sides of this arched passage made of unknown black brick, countless gold-plated fireplaces are neatly arranged, extending forward and backward.

Every few seconds, with a "poof" sound, the bright green flame rises suddenly, and a wizard suddenly comes out of a fireplace on the left.

On the right, it seems that someone is getting into it all the time, sprinkling flying powder and leaving.

Being in such a busy scene, Harry intuitively felt that the Ministry of magic was indeed the central institution governing the magic world of a country.

"... no wonder Marca would say that Voldemort could not completely penetrate the Ministry of magic." he looked at the crowd around him and breathed a sigh of relief.

Walking on the well polished dark wood floor, overhead is a dome made of black brick, inlaid with glittering golden symbols.

Those symbols are constantly moving and changing, like a huge high-altitude bulletin board.

If you go further, you will soon see a circular fountain with a group of huge pure gold statues in the middle of the pool.

The tallest of them was a noble wizard. He held his wand high and pointed it straight to the sky; Around him was a beautiful witch, a goblin, a horse man and a domestic elf.

The horse man, the goblin and the domestic elf all looked up at the two wizards with an incomparably worshipful look, and shining water jets came out of the tip of the wizard's wand, the tip of the goblin's hat, the horse man's bow and arrow, and a pair of ears of the domestic elf.

Nearby, the sound of running water, the explosion of phantom movement and the disorderly footsteps of hundreds of male and female wizards blend together, which sounds a little messy.

Many of those wizards were dressed meticulously, but their faces were hung with the characteristic lethargy of getting up early, and they strode towards the row of golden gates at the other end.

"This way," said Mr. Weasley.

Some of them carried a pile of crumbling parchment in their arms, some carried old briefcases, and others read a copy of the Daily Prophet.

As he passed the fountain, Harry saw piles of glittering silver SIKO and copper NAT at the bottom of the clear pool. Next to it was a small stained sign that said: all the proceeds of the magic brothers fountain were donated to the St. Mungo magic injury hospital.

"If the review can pass smoothly... No, I'm here with a mission. In the final analysis, I'm saving the Ministry of magic... Probably?" Harry thought and changed his mind. "If today's mission can be successfully completed, I'll put ten golden galleons in... Oh, no -"

"What are you thinking, Harry?" Mr. Weasley patted him on the shoulder when Harry looked at the coins under the pool and slowed down. "Although the money in the pool hasn't moved for a long time, you can't think about them!"

"What?" Harry seemed to be in a trance and didn't hear Mr. Weasley clearly. "I was wondering if I should have a greater wish, such as saving the world?"

"This way, Harry."

Mr. Weasley said, leading Harry away from the most concentrated crowd and to the left.

At a table, there was a sign that said "security check". Under it sat a wizard in peacock blue robe and with a very unclean beard.

Harry looked up as they approached and dropped his newspaper.

"I brought a guest," said Mr. Weasley, pointing to Harry.

"Come here," said the wizard in a listless tone.

Harry, who had just recovered from the magnificent atrium, saw the sign from his perspective. He was nervous.

"Focus, focus!" Harry reminded himself.

While the wizard yawned, he shook his sleeve gently, and a very insignificant little thing immediately fell to his feet.

At the next moment, the wizard held up a slender and tenacious gold stick and scanned Harry's chest and back from top to bottom.

"Wand."

The Security Wizard muttered to Harry, put down the golden thing and spread his hand to him.

Harry was secretly relieved and immediately took out his wand and handed it over.

As soon as the wizard threw it on an ancient and strange brass machine that looked like a single plate balance, the machine began to vibrate slightly.

Soon, a thin piece of parchment spit out quickly from the hole at the bottom.

The wizard tore off the note and read it:

"Eleven inches, phoenix feather stick core, used for four years... Right?"

"That's right," Harry replied nervously.

"Keep this," said the wizard, poking the parchment note on a long brass nail on the table. "Take back your wand."

He thrust the wand back into Harry's hand.

"Thank you."

Harry finally released his clenched teeth. He stamped his heel gently as Marca said. After pausing for two seconds, he raised his foot to leave here with Mr. Weasley.

"Wait a minute," said the wizard slowly.

What's up? Did he notice? There's nothing wrong with it?

Harry returned a little stiff and moved his shoulders a little unnaturally, because there was a burning feeling on his scalp and behind his back.

The wizard's eyes were a little suspicious. He subconsciously looked up at Harry's forehead from the silver guest badge on Harry's chest.

"Thank you, Eric."

Mr. Weasley dropped a word decisively, then grabbed Harry's arm and took him out of here and back into the crowd.

The more they moved forward, the more crowded it was, as if the flow of people had gathered in one place. They were almost "pushed" by the crowd through the gate to a smaller hall.

There are at least twenty elevators here, which are separated by golden fence doors carved with fine patterns.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley to the crowd in front of one of the elevators.

Next to them stood a big bearded wizard with a big cardboard box in his arms, which made a harsh noise from time to time.

"All right, Arthur?" said the wizard, nodding to Mr. Weasley.

"What's your head there, Bob?" Mr. Weasley stared curiously at the cardboard box.

"I'm not sure yet." the wizard named Bob said solemnly, "we thought it was just an ordinary chicken, but who can think it spewed out fire! Let me say, this is mostly a serious violation of the law on banning animal breeding experiments..."

With a click, the elevator car landed in front of them.

When the golden fence door gently slid open, a large crowd of people poured into the elevator. No one here cares whether there will be some thrilling accidents due to overweight.

When Harry found himself out of breath, he couldn't help remembering the "little" crowd in the telephone booth.

Several wizards around looked at him curiously.

Harry looked down at his toes. While avoiding facing each other's eyes, he was especially careful to make room for his legs, so that he didn't even have time to take care of the messy bangs.

The gate slammed shut, the elevator slowly rose, and the chain clattered. Then the cold female voice Harry had heard in the phone booth rang again.

"Seventh floor, magic sports department."

"Including the headquarters of the Quidditch alliance between Britain and Ireland, the official gobushi club and the comic product patent office."

The Golden Gate slid open, and Harry struggled to catch a glimpse of a messy corridor with all kinds of Quidditch posters on the wall.

A wizard with a broomstick pushed out and disappeared at the corner of the corridor.

The fence door closed again, the elevator shook slightly and continued to rise. The female voice continued to report:

"It's a message between departments," Mr. Weasley whispered. "It used to be only owls. It's incredibly messy - there's feces all over the desk and aisle."

As the elevator continues to rise, a group of people will go out every time they stop on the first floor, and there are fewer and fewer paper aircraft notes. Almost everyone has gone out at the "magic accident and disaster Department" on the third floor.

Now only Mr. Weasley, Harry and another witch are left in the elevator.

Incidentally, the witch was reading a roll of parchment that was so long that it had been dragged to the ground.

"If Ron sees it, he probably won't choose to work in the Ministry of magic in his life..." Harry couldn't help thinking so.

Just then, with another vibration, the elevator stopped rising again.