Reflections - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter 14

"We haven't got a window," said Mr. Weasley apologetically, taking off his bomber jacket and placing it on the back of his chair. "We've asked, but they don't seem to think we need one. Have a seat, you two, doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet."

Kirra and Harry squeezed themselves into the chair behind Perkins's desk while Mr. Weasley rifled through the sheaf of parchment Kingsley Shacklebolt had given him.

"Ah," he said, grinning, as he extracted a copy of a magazine entitled The Quibbler from its midst, "yes . . ." He flicked through it. "Yes, he's right, I'm sure Sirius will find that very amusing — oh dear, what's this now?"

A memo had just zoomed in through the open door and fluttered to rest on top of the hiccuping toaster. Mr. Weasley unfolded it and read aloud, "'Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green, kindly investigate immediately.' This is getting ridiculous. . . ."

"A regurgitating toilet?"

"Anti-Muggle pranksters," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "We had two last week, one in Wimbledon, one in Elephant and Castle. Muggles are pulling the flush and instead of everything disappearing — well, you can imagine. The poor things keep calling in those — those pumbles, I think they're called — you know, the ones who mend pipes and things —"

"Plumbers?" Harry corrected him

"— exactly, yes, but of course they're flummoxed. I only hope we can catch whoever's doing it."

"Will it be Aurors who catch them?"

"Oh no, this is too trivial for Aurors, it'll be the ordinary Magical Law Enforcement Patrol — ah, Harry, Kirra this is Perkins."

A stooped, timid-looking old wizard with fluffy white hair had just entered the room, panting.

"Oh Arthur!" he said desperately, without looking at either of the twins. "Thank goodness, I didn't know what to do for the best, whether to wait here for you or not, I've just sent an owl to your home but you've obviously missed it — an urgent message came ten minutes ago —"

"I know about the regurgitating toilet," said Mr. Weasley.

"No, no, it's not the toilet, it's the Potter boy's hearing — they've changed the time and venue — it starts at eight o'clock now and it's down in old Courtroom Ten —"

"Down in old — but they told me — Merlin's beard —"

Mr. Weasley looked at his watch, let out a yelp, and leapt from his chair.

"Quick, Harry, we should have been there five minutes ago!"

Perkins flattened himself against the filing cabinets as Mr. Weasley left the office at a run, Harry and Kirra on his heels.

"Why have they changed the time?" Kirra said breathlessly as they hurtled past the Auror cubicles; people poked out their heads and stared as they streaked past. 

"I've no idea, but thank goodness we got here so early, if you'd missed it it would have been catastrophic!"

Mr. Weasley skidded to a halt beside the lifts and jabbed impatiently at the down button.

"Come ON!"

The lift clattered into view and they hurried inside. Every time it stopped Mr. Weasley cursed furiously and pummelled the number nine button.

"Those courtrooms haven't been used in years," said Mr. Weasley angrily. "I can't think why they're doing it down there — unless — but no . . ."

A plump witch carrying a smoking goblet entered the lift at that moment, and Mr. Weasley did not elaborate.