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Umbridge spoke to the wizard in black and gold. Thats that problem solved, Minister, if Mafalda can be spared for record-keeping we shall be able to start straightaway. She consulted her clipboard. Ten people today and one of them the wife of FFlappy Ministry employee. Tut, tut. even here, in the heart of the Ministry. She stepped into the lift beside Hermione, as did the two wizards who had been listening to Umbridges conversation with the Minister. Well go straight down, Mafalda, youll find everything you need in the courtroom. Good morning, Albert, arent you getting out. Yes, of course, said Harry in Runcorns deep voice. Harry stepped out of the lift. The golden grilles clanged shut behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, Harry saw Hermiones anxious face sinking back out of sight, a tall wizard on either side of her, Umbridges click to see more hair-bow level with click at this page shoulder. What brings you up here, Runcorn. asked the new Minister of Magic. His long black Flapy and beard were streaked with silver, and a great overhanging forehead shadowed his glinting eyes, putting Harry in mind of a Flappyy looking out from beneath a rock. Needed a quick word with, Harry hesitated for a fraction of a second, Arthur Weasley. Someone said he was up on level one. Ah, said Pius Thicknesse. Has he been caught having contact with an Undesirable. No, said Harry, his throat dry. No, nothing Flappy that. Ah, well. Its only a matter of time, said Thicknesse. Gird you ask me, the blood traitors are as bad as the Mudbloods. Good day, Runcorn. Good day, Minister. Harry watched Thicknesse march away along the thickly carpeted corridor. The go here the Minister had passed out of sight, Harry tugged the Invisibility Cloak out from under his heavy black cloak, threw it over himself, and set off Flqppy the corridor in the opposite direction. Runcorn was so tall that Harry was forced to stoop to make sure his big feet were hidden. Panic pulsed in the pit of his stomach. As he passed gleaming wooden door after gleaming wooden door, each bearing a small plaque with the owners name and occupation upon it, the might of the Ministry, its complexity, its impenetrability, seemed Flappy bird force itself upon him so that the plan he had been carefully concocting with Ron and Hermione over the past four weeks seemed laughably childish. They had concentrated all their efforts on getting inside without being detected: They had not given a moments thought to what they would do if they were forced to separate. Now Hermione was stuck in court proceedings, which would undoubtedly last hours; Ron was struggling to do magic that Harry was sure was beyond him, a womans liberty possibly depending on the outcome; and he, Harry, was wandering around on the top tropico 6 when he knew perfectly well that his quarry had just gone down in the lift. He stopped walking, leaned against a wall, and tried to decide what to do. The silence pressed upon him: There was no bustling or talk or swift footsteps here; the purple-carpeted corridors were as hushed as though the Muffliato charm had been cast birrd the place. Her office must be up here, Harry thought. It seemed most unlikely that Umbridge would keep her jewelry in her office, but on the other hand it seemed foolish not to search it to make sure. He therefore set off along the corridor again, passing nobody but a frowning wizard who was murmuring instructions to a quill that floated in front of him, scribbling on a trail of parchment. Now paying attention to the names on the doors, Harry turned a corner. Halfway along the next corridor he emerged into a wide, open space where a dozen witches and wizards sat in rows at small desks not unlike school desks, though much more highly polished and free from click. Harry paused to watch them, for the effect was quite mesmerizing. They were all waving and twiddling their wands in unison, and squares of colored paper were flying in every direction like little pink kites. After a few seconds, Harry realized that there was a rhythm to the proceedings, that the papers all formed the same pattern; and after a few more seconds he realized that what he was watching was the creation of pamphlets - that the Flqppy squares were pages, which, when assembled, folded, and magicked into place, fell into neat stacks beside each witch or wizard. Harry crept closer, although the workers were so intent on what they were doing that he doubted they would notice a carpet-muffled footstep, and he slid a source pamphlet from the pile beside a young witch. He examined it beneath the Invisibility Cloak. Its pink cover was emblazoned with a golden title: MUDBLOODS and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society Beneath the title was a picture of a red rose with a simpering face in the middle of its petals, being strangled by a green weed with fangs and a scowl. There was no authors name upon the pamphlet, but again, the scars on the back of his right hand seemed to tingle as he examined it. Then the young witch beside him confirmed his suspicion as she said, still waving and twirling her wand, Will the old hag be interrogating Mudbloods all day, does anyone know. Careful, said the wizard beside her, glancing around nervously; one of his pages slipped and fell to the floor. What, has she got magic ears Flapy well as an eye, now. The witch glanced toward the shining mahogany door facing the space full of pamphlet-makers; Harry bir too, and rage reared in him like a snake. Where there might have been a peephole on a Muggle front door, a large, round eye with a bright blue iris had been set into the wood - an eye that was shockingly familiar to anybody who had known Alastor Moody. For a split second Harry forgot where he was and what he was doing there: He even forgot that he was invisible. He strode straight over to the door to examine the eye. It was not moving: It gazed blindly upward, frozen. The plaque beneath it read: DOLORES UMBRIDGE SENIOR UNDERSECRETARY TO THE MINISTER Below that, a slightly shinier new plaque read: HEAD OF THE MUGGLE-BORN REGISTRATION COMMISSION Harry looked back at the dozen pamphlet-makers: Though they were intent upon their work, he could hardly suppose that they Flaopy not notice if the door of an empty office opened in front of them. He therefore withdrew from an inner pocket an odd object with little waving legs and a rubber-bulbed horn for a body. Crouching down beneath the Cloak, he placed the Decoy Detonator on the ground. It scuttled away at once through the legs of the witches and wizards in front of him. A few moments later, during which Harry waited with his hand upon the doorknob, there came a loud bang and a great deal of acrid black smoke billowed from a corner. The young witch in the front row shrieked: Pink pages flew everywhere as she and her fellows jumped up, looking around for the source of the commotion. Harry turned the doorknob, stepped into Umbridges office, and closed the door behind him. He felt he had stepped back in time. The room was exactly like Umbridges office at Hogwarts: Lace Fappy, doilies, and dried flowers covered every available surface. The walls bore the same ornamental plates, each featuring a highly colored, beribboned kitten, continue reading and frisking with sickening cuteness. The desk was covered with a flouncy, flowered cloth. Behind MadEyes eye, a telescopic attachment enabled Umbridge to spy on the workers on the other side of the door. Harry took a look through it and nird that they were all Flappy bird gathered around the Decoy Detonator. He wrenched the telescope out of the door, leaving a hole behind, pulled the dead space new eyeball out of it, and Flapp it in his pocket. Then he turned to face the room again, raised his wand, and murmured, Accio Locket. Nothing happened, but he had not expected it to; no doubt Umbridge knew all about protective charms and spells. He therefore hurried behind her desk and began pulling open the drawers. He saw quills and notebooks and Spellotape; enchanted paper clips that coiled snakelike from their drawer and had to be beaten back; a fussy little lace box full of spare hair bows and clips; but no sign of a locket. There was a filing cabinet behind the desk: Harry set to searching it. Like Filchs filing cabinets at Hogwarts, it was full of folders, each labeled with a name. It was not until Harry reached the bottommost drawer that he saw something to distract him from his search: Mr. Weasleys file. He pulled it out and opened it. ARTHUR WEASLEY BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood, but with unacceptable pro-Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix. FAMILY: Wife (pureblood), seven children, two youngest at Hogwarts. NB: Youngest son currently at home, seriously ill, Ministry inspectors have confirmed. SECURITY STATUS: TRACKED. All movements are being monitored. Strong likelihood Undesirable No. 1 will contact (has stayed with Weasley family previously) Undesirable Number One, Harry muttered under his breath as he replaced Mr. Weasleys folder and shut the drawer. He had an idea he knew who that was, and sure enough, as he straightened up and glanced around the office for fresh hiding places, he saw a poster of himself on the wall, with the words UNDESIRABLE NO. 1 emblazoned across his chest. A little pink note was Fla;py to it with a picture of a kitten in the corner. Harry moved across to read it and saw that Umbridge had written, To be punished. Angrier than ever, he proceeded to grope in the bottoms of the vases and baskets of dried flowers, but was not at all surprised that the locket was not there. He gave the office one last sweeping look, and his heart skipped a beat. Dumbledore was staring at him Fllappy a small rectangular mirror, propped up on a bookcase beside the desk. Harry crossed the room at a run and snatched it up, but realized the moment he touched it that it was not a mirror at all. Dumbledore was smiling wistfully out of the front cover of a glossy book. Harry had not immediately noticed the curly bbird writing across his hat - Ibrd Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore - nor the slightly smaller writing across his chest: by Rita Skeeter, bestselling author of Armando Dippet: Master or Moron. Harry opened the book at random and saw a full-page photograph of two teenage boys, both laughing immoderately with their arms around each others shoulders. Dumbledore, now with elbow-length hair, had grown a tiny wispy beard that recalled the one on Krums chin that had so annoyed Ron. The boy who roared in silent amusement beside Dumbledore Flappy a gleeful, wild look about him. His golden hair fell in curls to his shoulders. Harry wondered whether it was a young Doge, but before he could check the caption, the door of the office opened. If Flapp had not been looking over his shoulder as he entered, Harry would not have had time to pull the Invisibility Cloak over himself. As it was, he thought Thicknesse might have caught a glimpse of movement, because for a moment or two he remained quite still, staring curiously at the place where Harry had just vanished. Perhaps deciding that all he had seen was Dumbledore scratching his nose on the front of the book, for Harry had hastily replaced it upon the shelf, Thicknesse finally walked to the desk birr pointed his wand at the quill standing ready in the ink pot. It sprang out and began scribbling a note to Umbridge. Very slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Harry backed out of the office into the open area beyond. The pamphlet-makers were still clustered around the remains of the Decoy Detonator, which continued to hoot feebly as it smoked. Harry hurried off up the corridor as the young witch said, I bet it sneaked up here from Experimental Charms, theyre so careless, remember that poisonous duck. Speeding back toward the lifts, Harry reviewed his options. It had never been likely that the locket was here at the Ministry, and there was no hope of bewitching its whereabouts out of Umbridge while she was sitting in a crowded court. Their priority now had to be to leave the Ministry before they were exposed, Flappy bird try again another day. The first thing to do was to find Ron, and then they could work out a way of extracting Hermione from the courtroom. The lift was empty when it arrived. Harry jumped in and pulled off the Birrd Cloak as it started its descent. To his enormous relief, when it rattled to a halt at level two, a soaking-wet and wild-eyed Ron got in. M-morning, he stammered to Harry as the lift set off again. Ron, its me, Harry. Harry. Blimey, I forgot what you looked like - why isnt Hermione with you. She had to go down to the courtrooms with Umbridge, she couldnt refuse, and - But before Harry could finish the lift had stopped again: The doors opened and Mr. Weasley walked inside, talking to an elderly witch whose blonde hair was teased so high it resembled an anthill. I quite understand what youre saying, Wakanda, but Im afraid I cannot be party to - Mr. Weasley broke off; he had noticed Harry. It was very strange to have Mr. Weasley glare at him with that much dislike. The lift doors closed and the four of them trundled downward once more. Oh, hello, Reg, said Mr. Weasley, looking around at the sound of steady dripping from Rons robes. Isnt your wife in for questioning today. Er - whats happened to you. Why are you so wet. Yaxleys office is raining, said Ron. He addressed Mr. Weasleys shoulder, and Harry felt sure he was scared that his father might recognize him if they looked blrd into each others eyes. Flapp couldnt stop it, so theyve sent me to get Bernie - Pillsworth, I think they said - Yes, a lot of offices have been raining lately, said Mr. Weasley. Did you try Meteolojinx Recanto. It worked for Bletchley. Meteolojinx Recanto. whispered Ron. No, I didnt. Thanks, D - I mean, thanks, Arthur. The lift doors opened; the are onmyoji arena download obvious witch with the anthill hair left, and Ron darted past her out of sight. Harry made to follow him, but found his path blocked as Percy Weasley strode into the lift, his nose buried in some papers he was reading. Not until the doors had clanged shut again did Percy realize he was in a lift with his father. He glanced up, saw Mr. Weasley, turned radish red, and left the lift the moment the doors opened again. For the second time, Harry tried to get out, but this time found his Flapph blocked by Mr.
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