Chapter 295: British Ministry of Magic

For those who are new to the Ministry of Architecture, it may be a bit difficult to understand for a moment. The atrium, which is the "face" of the Ministry of Magic, is located on the eighth floor, and the entire Ministry appears to have a total of ten floors.
However, if the entire ground floor to the eighth floor is "pulled out" from the ground, it is actually not much different from the concept of layering of Muggle buildings.
After gradually adapting to the surrounding brightness, Harry found himself standing in the middle of a wide, winding path.
Although the passageway is actually very spacious, with more people, it also seems crowded.
Countless gold-plated fireplaces line the arched aisles from unknown black bricks on both sides, extending back and forth.
Every few seconds, with a soft bang and a bright green flame, a wizard suddenly emerged from a fireplace on the left.
On the right, at any moment, someone seems to get into it and sprinkle flying powder to leave.
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.
"... It's no wonder that Maca would say something like," Voldemort cannot completely penetrate the Ministry of Magic. "He looked at the dense crowd around him, and sighed with relief.
Walking on the dark wooden floor that was polished to a decent level, the top was also a black brick dome with a glittering golden symbol inlaid on it.
The symbols are constantly moving and changing, like a huge bulletin board.
If you go further, you will soon see a circular fountain with a large group of solid gold statues standing in the middle of the pool.
The highest of them was a noble witch, who held his wand high, pointing his tip straight at the sky; surrounded by him was a beautiful witch, a horse, a goblin, and a domestic elf.
The horsemen, fairies, and domestic elves looked up at the two wizards with an expression of infinite worship, from the tips of the wizard's wand, from the horseman's bow and arrow, from the fairy's hat tip, from The domestic elf spouted from both ears.
Near here, the sound of gurgling water, the blast of phantoms, and the chaotic footsteps of hundreds of male and female wizards blended together, sounding a little messy.
Many of those wizards were meticulously dressed, but their faces were full of the dying morning peculiar, striding toward the row of golden gates on the other side.
"Go this way," said Mr. Weasley.
They crowded forward among the staff of the Ministry of Magic and various types of visitors, some of them holding a pile of crumbling parchments in their arms, some carrying worn out briefcases, and some holding a copy The Daily Prophet reads while walking.
As he passed the fountain, Harry saw a lot of glittering silver sicco and copper nate under the clear pool, and a small stained sign next to it read: All the proceeds of the Magic Brothers Fountain were donated to the Saint Mungo Magic Wound Disease hospital.
"If the review goes through ... no, I came here with a mission this time, after all, it was saving the Ministry of Magic ... probably?" Harry thought for a while, and then meditated, "If the mission today If it can be done successfully, I'll put ten Jin Jialongs into it ... oh no-- "
"What are you thinking, Harry?" Seeing Harry slow down as he watched the coins under the pool, Mr. Weasley reached out and patted his shoulder, "Although the money in this pool has not been moved for a long time It ’s time, but you ca n’t think of them!

"What?" Harry didn't seem to listen to Mr. Weasley because he was being dreamy. "I wonder if I want a greater wish, such as-save the world or something?"
"Go this way, Harry."
Mr. Weasley said, leading Harry away from the most concentrated crowd and heading to the left.
At a table stood a sign saying "Security Check", and underneath sat a wizard wearing a peacock blue robe and shaving his beard.
As Harry approached them, he looked up and dropped the newspaper in his hand.
"I brought a guest," Mr. Weasley said, pointing to Harry.
"Come here," the wizard said in a lethargic tone.
As soon as Harry returned from the magnificent atrium, the perspective would be seen on that brand. He felt nervous for a while.
"Concentrate, concentrate!" Harry reminded himself secretly.
He took the yawn of the wizard, shook his sleeves slightly, and a little humble thing immediately fell to his feet.
The next moment, the wizard lifted a thin, tough golden stick and swept it from top to bottom on Harry's chest and back.
"Wand."
The security wizard muttered at Harry, dropped the golden toy, and reached out to him.
Harry was relieved then, and he immediately took out his wand and handed it out.
The wizard just threw it on a weird brass machine like a single-disc balance, and the machine started to vibrate slightly.
Soon, a narrow parchment spit out from the opening at the bottom.
The wizard tore the paper down and read the words on it:
"Eleven inches, the core of the rod is phoenix feather, and it took four years ... right?"
"Yes," Harry answered nervously.
"I'll keep this," the wizard said, poking the parchment note on a small brass spike. "You take this back."
He stuffed his wand into Harry's hands.
"Thank you."
Harry finally let go of the bite he had been biting, and he lightly stomped his heels according to Maca's words, and after two seconds he lifted his feet and planned to leave with Mr. Weasley.
"Wait a minute," the wizard said slowly.
what happened? Did he notice? Obviously no problem?
Harry looked back stiffly, and moved his shoulders a little unnaturally, because there was a hot feeling on his scalp and back.
The wizard's gaze was tinged with suspicion, and he subconsciously looked up from the silver guest badge on Harry's chest and looked at his forehead.
"Thank you, Eric."
Mr. Weasley dropped the words flatly, then grabbed Harry by the shoulder and took him out of here to return to the crowd.
The further forward, the more crowded, as if the flow of people were concentrated in one place, they were almost "pushed" by the crowd through the gate and came to a smaller hall.
There are at least twenty elevators here, and golden fence gates carved with fine patterns are blocked in the walls.
Harry followed Mr. Weasley step by step and walked to the crowd in front of one of the elevators.
Next to them was a big bearded shaman standing in his arms holding a large cardboard box, and from time to time there was a sound of harsh friction.
"Okay, Arthur?" Said the wizard and nodded at Mr. Weasley.
"What's up there, Bob?" Mr. Weasley asked curiously at the cardboard box.
"Not sure yet." The wizard named Bob said solemnly, "We thought it was a normal chicken, but we didn't expect it to burst out! In my opinion, this seems to be a serious violation of" The ban on animal breeding experiments ... "
With a rattling sound, the elevator car landed in front of them.
When the golden fence gate slipped open, a large crowd of people rushed into the elevator, but no one here cares whether some thrilling accidents will occur because of being overweight.
When Harry realized that he was all out of breath, he couldn't help remembering the "little bit" of crowding in the telephone booth before.
Several wizards around him looked at him curiously.
Harry looked down at his toes, while avoiding staring at others, he was especially careful to make room for his legs, so that even the messy bangs had no time to take care of them.
The fence door slammed shut, the elevator slowly rose, and the chain rattled ~ EbookFREE.me ~ Then, the indifferent female voice Harry had heard in the telephone booth rang again.
"Seventh floor, the Department of Magic Sports, contains the British and Irish Quidditch Alliance headquarters, the official Gobble Club and the Comic Product Patent Office."
The elevator door opened, and Harry struggled to glimpse a cluttered hallway with various Quidditch posters on the wall.
A wizard holding a flying broom labored out, and disappeared in the corridor.
The fence door closed again, and the elevator shook slightly, and continued to rise. The female voice continued: "The sixth floor, the Department of Magic and Transportation, includes the Flying Road Network Administration Bureau, the Flying Broom Management and Control Bureau, the Door Key Office and the Phantom Appearance Testing Center."
The elevator door was opened again, and four or five wizards went out. At the same time, several lilac paper planes flew into the elevator, hovering slowly above the passengers.
Harry also saw the wings of the wing appear to be stamped with the seal of the Ministry of Magic.
"That's the note used to pass messages between departments," Mr. Weasley whispered to him. "It used to be an owl, and it was really messy-there were faeces all over the desk."
As the elevator continues to rise, people will go out every time they stop at the first floor, and paper airplane notes are getting less and less. At the third-level Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters, almost everyone went out.
Only Mr. Weasley, Harry and another witch were left in the elevator.
Incidentally, the witch was reading a terribly long scroll of parchment.
"If Ron sees him, he probably won't choose to work in the Ministry of Magic ..." Harry thought so.
Just then, with another shock, the elevator stopped rising again.