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Chapter 882: Visitor Entrance
🕑 Added 2023-09-30 11:14:37 +0000 UTC"Yes, I remember this place!" said Mr. Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which seemed to be a product of decades ago, abandoned here. It was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall.
"This is much worse than I imagined the Ministry of Magic to be..."
"It's not easy to find such a large space in central London. Besides, this is just an entrance," said Mr. Weasley cheerfully, and he opened the door of the phone box. "Well … after you, kids!"
Evan, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George were all crowded inside. Now there was no room at all. They were pressed together tightly. The old telephone box creaked as though it could collapse at any time.
"You stepped on me, Fred!" Ron yelled.
"It's not me, it's George!" Fred responded.
"No, I can't move, any of you can step back!" said George.
As Mr. Weasley followed in, struggling to close the door, they were crammed into the narrow space like cans.
Evan was jammed against the telephone apparatus, with Hermione in front of him and Harry behind him.
Hermione’s back was against the wall, and her front body pressed tightly against Evan’s, and her movements were extremely ambiguous.
Whenever someone pushed Evan from behind, he would bump Hermione forward.
Seeing Hermione's appearance, he hurriedly raised himself, and was hit again soon...
In the end, Evan simply hugged her directly in his arms, so that the impact force would be smaller.
As for the telephone apparatus, it hung crookedly from the wall, as though a vandal had tried to rip it off.
If there were Muggles passing by, they would be surprised to watch this scene, thinking they were crazy.
"Excuse me, give me the receiver!" said Mr. Weasley.
"Mr. Weasley, I think this phone might be out of order too," Harry said, taking the handset from Evan.
"No, no, I’m sure it’s fine," said Mr. Weasley, holding the receiver above his head, peering at the dial, and stretching out his other hand laboriously. "Oh, no, I can't reach. Evan, you can dial the number 62442 for me."
Hermione tried to make room for him backwards, and Evan looked up and dialed the number.
As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr. Weasley’s hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them.
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."
“Er …” said Mr. Weasley, clearly uncertain whether he should talk into the receiver or not; he compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, “Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Evan Mason and Harry Potter, who have been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing. Besides, there are Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Fred Weasley, and George Weasley, who are here to attend the hearing."
“Thank you,” said the cool female voice. “Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.
There was a click and a rattle, and seven badges slid out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared.
Evan picked them up and handed them to Harry, leaving behind his and Hermione’s badges. He saw that his own was a square silver badge with Evan Mason, Disciplinary Hearing on it. On Hermione's badge were the words Hermione Granger, Visitor.
They pinned the badges to the front of their T-shirts and looked around expectantly when the female voice spoke again.
"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."
As soon as her voice fell, the floor of the telephone box shuddered. With shouts of surprise, they were sinking slowly into the ground.
Hermione subconsciously hugged Evan hard. She’d been hugged by Evan, and the two stuck together, getting closer.
Evan had never felt so close to Hermione. It was as though they were both in the same tights.
Just like the night he had entered Hermione's pajamas, he could clearly feel her heartbeat now.
He watched apprehensively as the pavement rose up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads.
In an instant, he could see nothing at all; he could only hear a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth.
No one spoke, everyone held their breath, even Mr. Weasley was a little nervous.
After about a minute, though it felt much longer to them, a chink of golden light illuminated their feet and, widening, rose up their bodies, until it hit them in the faces.
“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,” said the woman’s voice.
The door of the telephone box sprang open and they stepped out of it.
"Wow!" they looked around; their mouths wide open in surprise!
Compared to seeing the bustling scene of Muggle Central London just now, the picture before them was even more shocking.
Even though Evan had been here more than a year ago, he still couldn't help looking around curiously.
The same was true for Fred and George. They only came to the Ministry of Magic with Mr. Weasley when they were young and had not been here for many years. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were here for the first time. Although they’d heard a lot of descriptions, they’d never seen it directly.
At this moment, they were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock-blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that were continually moving and changing like some enormous heavenly notice board.
Evan was just watching it excitedly before, but now he recognized that this ceiling had used a lot of knowledge of alchemy and magic.
Those seemingly messy golden symbols converged into spell runes, many of which were not recorded in the research notes given to him by Nicolas Flamel.
In the hall, the walls on each side were paneled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them.
Every few seconds, a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh.
On the right-hand side, short queues of wizards were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart.
Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool.
Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a Centaur, a goblin, and a house-elf. The last three were all looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard.
Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur’s arrow, the tip of the goblin’s hat, and each of the house-elf’s ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards strode toward a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.
