Percy Jackson and the Department of Mysteries

22) You Must Listen To The Disembodied Voice (not the one in your head)

It was cold outside. Not a good sign. Cold weather was never friendly, unless you were about to have a snowball fight. There is no other good reason for the weather to be cold.

"You don't normally walk to work, do you?" I asked, stuffing my hands into my pockets, wishing I hadn't worn a short-sleeved shirt.

"No, I usually Apparate," Mr. Weasley said, "but obviously Harry can't, and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion... makes a better impression, given what he's being disciplined for..."

Mr. Weasley kept his hands in his pockets like me, but I knew he had his hand clenched around his wand. I fiddled with Riptide for a moment, then decided we weren't in any danger. Not physical danger, anyway.

The streets were run down and nearly deserted, but the Underground station we found was full of early commuters. Mr. Weasley was having a hard time curbing his enthusiasm at the proximity to Muggles doing normal, Muggle things.

"Simply fabulous," Mr. Weasley motioned to the automatic ticket machines. "Wonderfully ingenious."

"They're out of order," Harry pointed at the paper taped onto the machines.

"Yes, but even so..." Mr. Weasley beamed at the ticket machines. I'd have to steal him one for Christmas.

We bought our tickets from a tired guard, and Harry had to handle the transaction. Mr. Weasley had a hard time with Muggle money. Five minutes later, we were rattling off to London in a cramped and dingy train.

Mr. Weasley kept nervously checking the map above the windows, "Four stops, boys... three stops left now... two stops to go, Harry..."

We got off in the heart of London, surrounded by businessy people with businessy briefcases off to do businessy things. The escalator was fun (Mr. Weasley had a blast), and the ticket barrier wasn't a problem (he had a blast with that, too), and we stepped out onto a busy street.

"Where are we?" Mr. Weasley said blankly.

"It's this way," I nodded towards a side road, and we made our way down it.

"Sorry," Mr. Weasley said, "but I never come by train and it all looks rather different from a Muggle perspective. As a matter of fact I've never even used the visitor's entrance before. How do you know where it is?"

"Uhh, no reason," I shrugged.

"What'd you do?" Harry asked.

"Uhhhhh, after my first quest, Fudge threw a party for us, and we came in this way," I lied (sorta. There had been a party, but we'd Apparated). I got the feeling that the area around the entrance was monitored by the Ministry. And if I'd told the truth, I would've given them the proof necessary to prosecute.

We turned a corner and stopped in front of an old telephone box. Several panes were missing, and it gave me the impression that I'd need a Tetanus shot. But we weren't looking at the telephone box we were looking at the wall behind it.

A poison green snake was curled around the Ministry of Magic logo, squeezing it. There was no written message with that work of mine — there didn't need to be. I wasn't sending a message to the people. I had sent the message to the Ministry, to Fudge.

"Here we are," Mr. Weasley said after a long moment, opening the telephone box door for us. "After you, boys."

It was a tight fit. I'd definitely need that Tetanus shot.

"Mr. Weasley, I think this might be out of order too," Harry said, his face pressed uncomfortably against the wall of the booth.

"No, no, I'm sure it's fine," Mr. Weasley held the receiver above his head and peered at the dial. "Let's see... six..." he dialed the number, "two... four... and another four... and another two...."

As soon as the dial whirled back into place, a cool voice rang throughout the booth, as if there were another person in there with us, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Er..." Mr. Weasley put the mouthpiece of the receiver to his ear, unsure of what to do, "Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing, and Perseus Jackson."

"Perseus Jackson, state your business," the woman's voice got colder. I was definitely not a friend of the Ministry.

"Character witness for Harry Potter," I said smoothly.

"Thank you," the voice said. "Visitors, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

With a rattle and a click, two square badges slid out of the slot where coins normally appeared. Harry picked them up, then handed one to me. Perseus Jackson, Witness was written on the silver. There was a large D with a line through the middle, and I scowled at it. I hated the whole identifying me as a demigod, as if it really mattered. I pinned it to the front of my shirt, Harry doing the same.

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium." The floor of the telephone box shuddered, and we started lowering downwards, like we were in some sort of elevator.

I glanced at a Harry, "You're badge is nicer than mine. Wanna trade?"

"You must not wear another visitor's identification badge," the voice informed us cooly.

"What if I identify as another visitor, though," I questioned. "Like, I'm Harry Potter, dude. Can't you tell? I've got scars. Not in the same spot, of course, but I've still got scars."

"You must not wear another visitor's identification badge," the voice repeated.

"Well, you're just annoying, aren't you?" I stuck my tongue out at the space above us.

"You must not insult your hosts," the voice said.

"Oh, sorry disembodied voice, forgive me for my ignorance. Oh, wait. I should be forgiving you for your ignorance you Ministry p—"

And that's about when Harry slapped his hand over my mouth.

I made pizza in the oven today, uber proud of myself, until I burned it. I'm great that way. Got some socks for Christmas. Lots of socks. Love socks. Triangle got my sister or sister's friend, or maybe both idk, socks with the Jewish stars I can't remember the names of. Is it the Star of David? I'm not sure, sorry if that's wrong. Things leave my brain sometimes. I got Snoopy socks. They're comfy. Am wearing them. He also got me a Harry Potter ornament, it's currently hanging from my ceiling fan, flying cause it's Harry on a broom. Got a Danny Devito coloring book. Got matching socks. Got a lot of money. Got my third copy of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children. I'll probably give it to a friend, or maybe my brother. He spilled soda on one of my other copies.

Anyway, I hope you guys have had a uber cool Sunday, and I'll see you on Tuesday CT. Love ya!