Harry and Amelia Potter

7.9

"Morning Reg! Good luck today." He says.

"Oh.... yeah. Thanks." Ron glances to Harry, Hermione, and I, then jerks his head to the skinny wizard and we follow. As the wizard drops down the stairs into a toilet, we appear behind a corner. "What do you reckon he meant by 'Good luck'?"

Hermione and I enter the women's toilet while the boys enter the men's. We glance around and slip into a cubicle, trying to copy what other witches are doing.

Stepping in and shutting the door behind me, I hear flushing sounds all around. I look to my left and see a pair of heeled feet climb into the next toilet, then look to my right, seeing Hermione's new identity peering in.

"We flush ourselves in?" She asks. I nod my head.

"Apparently so."

"That's utterly disgusting." Her face disappears and I step up onto my toilet. Dipping my shoe in gingerly, then withdrawing it, noticing it's completely dry. Stepping in fully, I reach up and pull the chain above my head. I'm instantly sucked down. Seconds later, I come shooting out of a fireplace into the grand atrium of the Ministry of Magic. I see Hermione's already arrived and standing before a massive statue depicting a witch and wizard sitting upon hundreds of naked bodies twisted in pain. I join her.

"Are those...?" I don't bother finishing the question. Hermione nods with disgust.

"Muggles. In their rightful place."

I glance at the base of the statue, where the words "Magic is Might" are engraved. I glance around and notice the man Harry turned himself into approaches. As he does, a balding wizard bumps into him.

"Move it, will you-" he stops and sees his face. "oh, Runcorn! Forgive me..." The Balding Wizard hurries away, clearly frightened, as does another wizard, merely at the sight of Harry.

"You appear to be quite popular." I whisper to him.

Ron approaches, running a gauntlet of pitying looks from co-workers who echo the skinny wizard's "Good Luck."

"I gotta tell you, I'm starting to freak out a bit." Ron breathes out. Just then, a gang of young, rough looking wizards enter the Atrium, pushing along a small group of captives. "The Ministry must be hiring young these days."

"They're not Ministry. They're Snatchers. They hunt Muggle-borns and blood-traitors for a price." I inform him.

"How long did you say this batch of Polyjuice Potion would last, Hermione?" Harry asks, I can hear his worried tone.

"I didn't."

We make our way to the multiple lifts, in search for the real locket. I notice a man with an annoyed look on his face coming towards us. I recognize him from the astronomy tower, the night Dumbledore was murdered. Corban Yaxley, a truly vile man.

Yaxley strides directly up to Ron. "It's still raining in my office. Two days now."

"Really? Have you tried an umbrella?" I nudge Ron for his comment. Yaxley eyes Ron curiously, then leans forward menacingly.

"You do realize I'm on my way downstairs, don't you, Cattermole?"

"Downstairs...?" Ron questions.

"To interrogate your wife! If my wife's blood status were in doubt and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job doing, I think I'd make it a priority." As he speaks, it all starts to make sense. "You've got one hour."

Just then, the lift behind us clangs open. Harry and I step in and Hermione tugs Ron inside. Yaxley turns and storms off just as the doors close.

"Oh my god. What am I going to do?" Ron whines. "My wife's all alone downstairs?"

"Ron. You don't have a wife." I tell him.

"Oh. Right." He sighs.

"Look, we'll go with you." Harry suggests.

"No, that's mad. You three find Umbridge. I'll be fine." He takes a deep breath. "But how do I stop it raining?"

"Try Finite Incantatem. Of course if something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm-" Hermione is interrupted by a woman's voice speaking through an intercom in the lift.

"Level Two. Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including Wizengamot Administration Services, Auror Headquarters and Improper Use of Magic Department."

"This is you." As Hermione speaks, Ron steps out of the lift.

"Finite Incantatem, okay. And if that doesn't work...?"

But before she can respond the golden grilles of the lift close and she, Harry, and I are swept away.

"I don't like him being on his own down there." Hermione tells us.

"Ron's been coming here since he was two years old." Hardy tried to reassure her.

"It's us you should be worrying about." I scoff.

"I say if we don't locate Umbridge within the hour, we go find Ron and come back another day. Deal?" Harry whispers quickly to us. Before we can respond, the grilles clang open again and the three of us freeze.

Standing next to a long haired wizard, her neck enwrapped in a fuzzy pink scarf, is Dolores Umbridge. She looks up from the clipboard in her hand and sees Hermione.

"Ah, Mafalda! Travers sent you, did he? Good. We'll go straight down." She looks to me. "Margaret, why don't you go make me a cup of tea and have it ready for me when I return. I have a feeling this won't take long." I begin to step out and notice she's eyeing Harry. "Albert, aren't you getting out?"

Harry nods mutely, steps out. As the lift descends, we watch Hermione's anxious face sink out of sight.

"I'm going to go search her office for the Horcrux." Harry informs me. I nod.

"Great." I pause. "I'm going to go make old Toad Face a cup of tea."