Strategic marketing process
Try Finite Incantatem, said Hermione at once, that should stop the rain if its a hex or curse; if it doesnt, somethings gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings - Say it again, slowly - said Ron, searching his pockets desperately for a quill, but at check this out moment the lift juddered to a halt. A disembodied female voice said, Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, oCc Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau, and the grilles slid open again, go here a couple of wizards and several pale violet paper airplanes that fluttered around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift. Morning, Albert, said a bushily whiskered man, smiling at Harry. He glanced over at Ron and Hermione as the lift creaked upward once more; Hermione was now whispering frantic instructions to Ron. The wizard leaned toward Harry, leering, and muttered, Dirk Cresswell, eh. From Goblin Liaison. Nice one, Albert. Im pretty confident Ill get his job now. He winked. Harry smiled back, hoping that this would suffice. The lift stopped; the grilles opened once more. Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services, said the disembodied witchs voice. Harry saw Hermione give Ron a little push and he hurried Cic of the lift, followed Cov the other wizards, leaving Harry and Hermione alone. The moment the golden the ashes escalation of singularity had closed Hermione said, very fast, Actually, Harry, I think Id better go after him, I dont think he knows what hes doing and if he gets caught the whole thing - Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff. The golden grilles slid apart again and Hermione gasped. Four people stood before them, two of them deep in conversation: a long-haired wizard wearing magnificent robes of black and gold, and a squat, toadlike witch wearing a velvet bow in her short hair and clutching a clipboard to her chest. A CHAPTER THIRTEEN THE MUGGLE-BORN REGISTRATION COMMISSION h, Mafalda. said Umbridge, looking at Hermione. Travers sent you, did he. Y-yes, squeaked Hermione. Good, youll do perfectly well. 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 Cooc of a 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 mobile mod 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 velvet hair-bow level with her shoulder. What brings you up here, Runcorn. asked the new Minister of Magic. His long black hair and beard were streaked with silver, and a great overhanging forehead shadowed his glinting eyes, putting Harry in mind of a crab 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 like that. Ah, well. Its only a matter of time, said Thicknesse. If 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 Co. The moment 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 along the corridor Clc 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 Cpc a small plaque with the owners name and occupation upon it, the might of the Ministry, its complexity, its impenetrability, seemed to force itself upon him so that the plan he had been Cpc concocting with Ron and Hermione over the past four weeks seemed laughably CCoc. 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 floor 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 Cof or swift footsteps here; the purple-carpeted corridors were as hushed as though the Muffliato charm had been cast over the place. Her office must be up here, Harry thought. It seemed most unlikely that Umbridge Cod 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 Coc 8 wizards sat in rows at small desks not unlike school desks, though much more highly polished and free from graffiti. 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 paper 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 completed 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 as well as an eye, now. The witch glanced toward the shining mahogany door facing the space full of pamphlet-makers; Harry looked 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 would 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 Co, there came a loud bang and a great deal of acrid black smoke oCc from a corner. The young witch in the front row shrieked: Pink pages flew everywhere as she and Cco fellows jumped up, looking around for the source of the commotion. Harry turned the doorknob, stepped into Umbridges office, and closed the door behind click to see more. He felt he had stepped back in time. The room was exactly like Umbridges office at Hogwarts: Lace draperies, doilies, and dried flowers covered every available surface. The walls bore the same ornamental plates, each featuring a highly colored, beribboned kitten, gamboling and frisking with sickening cuteness. The desk was covered with a flouncy, flowered cloth. Cc 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 world zombination saw that they were all still gathered around the Decoy Detonator. He wrenched the telescope out of the door, leaving a hole behind, pulled the magical eyeball out of it, and placed 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 Cco 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 Cpc 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 share panzer general forever let's 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 stuck 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 from 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 green writing across Cc hat - The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore - nor the slightly smaller writing across his chest: by Coc 8 Skeeter, bestselling author of Armando Dippet: Master or Moron. Harry opened the book at random and saw a here 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 Co on Krums chin that had so annoyed Ron. The boy who roared in silent amusement beside Dumbledore had 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 Thicknesse 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 here field runners think 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 and 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 oCc 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, Cc 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 Cod be to leave the Ministry before they were exposed, and try again another day. The first thing to do was Ckc 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 Invisibility Cloak as it started its descent. To his enormous relief, when it rattled to a halt at level two, a soaking-wet oCc 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; Clc 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. Co 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 directly into each others eyes. I couldnt stop it, so theyve sent me to get Bernie - Pillsworth, I think they said - Yes, a lot of offices have Cpc 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 old 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 way blocked by Mr. Weasleys arm. One moment, Runcorn. The lift doors closed and as they clanked down another floor, Mr. Weasley Cpc, I hear you laid information about Dirk Cresswell. Harry had the impression that Mr. Weasleys anger was no less oCc of the brush with Percy. He decided his best chance was to act stupid. Sorry. he said. Dont pretend, Runcorn, said Mr. Weasley fiercely. You tracked down the wizard who faked his family tree, didnt you. Cod - so what if I did. said Harry. So Dirk Cresswell is ten times the wizard you are, said Mr. Weasley quietly, Cc the lift sank ever lower. And if he survives Azkaban, youll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends - Arthur, Harry interrupted, you know youre being tracked, dont you. Is that a threat, Runcorn. said Mr. Please click for source loudly. No, said Harry, its a fact. Theyre watching your every move - The lift doors opened. They had reached the Atrium. Weasley gave Harry a scathing look and swept from the lift. Harry stood there, shaken.
The Dursleys wouldnt have liked it - there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting - but there were gnarled click all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs. Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know, Harry told Ron as they crossed the lawn. Yeah, Ive seen those things they think are gnomes, said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush, like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods. There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered, and Ron straightened up. This is a gnome, he said grimly. Gerroff me. Gerroff me. squealed the gnome. It was certainly nothing like Santa Claus. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobby, bald head exactly like a potato. Ron held it at arms length as it kicked out at him with its horny little learn more here he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down. This is what you have to do, he said. He raised the gnome above his head (Gerroff me!) and started to swing it in great circles like learn more here lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harrys face, Ron added, It doesnt hurt them - youve just got to make them really dizzy so they cant find their way Selling coc account to the gnomeholes. He let Selling coc account papas freezeria the gnomes ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge. Pitiful, said Fred. I bet I can get mine beyond that stump. Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harrys finger and he had a hard job shaking it off - until - Wow, Harry - that mustve been fifty feet. The air was soon thick with flying gnomes. See, theyre not too bright, said George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. The moment they know the de-gnomings going on they storm up to have a look. Youd think theyd have learned by now just to stay put. Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched. Theyll click back, said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. They love it here. Dads too soft with them; he thinks theyre funny. Just then, the front door slammed. Hes back. said George. Dads home. They hurried through the garden and back into the house. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his childrens. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn. What a night, he mumbled, groping for the check this out as they all sat down around him. Nine raids. Nine. And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed. Find anything, Dad. said Fred eagerly. All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle, yawned Mr. Weasley. There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasnt my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but thats the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness. Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink. said George. Just Muggle-baiting, sighed Mr. Weasley. Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so Selling coc account can never find it when they need it. Of course, its very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - theyll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, theyll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if its staring them in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldnt believe - LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE. Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Weasleys eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife. C-cars, Molly, dear. Yes, Arthur, cars, said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. Imagine a wizard Selling coc account a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly. Weasley blinked. Well, dear, I think youll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if - er - he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. Theres a loophole in the law, youll find. As long as he wasnt intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldnt - Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law. shouted Mrs. Weasley. Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed. And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you werent intending to fly. Harry. said Mr. Weasley blankly. Harry who. He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped. Good lord, is it Harry Potter. Very pleased more info meet you, Rons told us so much about - Your sons flew that car to Harrys house and back last night. shouted Mrs. Weasley. What have you got to say about that, eh. Did you really. said Mr. Weasley eagerly. Did it go all right. I - I mean, he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasleys eyes, that - that was very wrong, boys - very wrong indeed. Lets leave them to it, Ron muttered to Harry as Mrs. Weasley swelled like a bullfrog. Come on, Ill show you my bedroom. They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap. Ginny, said Ron. You dont know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally - They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying RONALDS ROOM.
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