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[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Mrs Weasley's voice was lost amid fresh shrieks and screams from the portraits in the hall. George made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, a house-elf edged into the room. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and, though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery grey and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike. The elf took absolutely no notice of Harry and the rest. Acting as though it could not see them, it shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, towards the far end of the room, all the while muttering under its breath in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's. '... smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my mistress's house, oh, my poor mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh, the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do...'</s> [INST]

Mrs Weasley's voice was lost amid fresh shrieks and screams from the portraits in the hall. George made to shut the door to drown the noise, but before he could do so, a house-elf edged into the room. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked. It looked very old. Its skin seemed to be several times too big for it and, though it was bald like all house-elves, there was a quantity of white hair growing out of its large, batlike ears. Its eyes were a bloodshot and watery grey and its fleshy nose was large and rather snoutlike. The elf took absolutely no notice of Harry and the rest. Acting as though it could not see them, it shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, towards the far end of the room, all the while muttering under its breath in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's. '... smells like a drain and a criminal to boot, but she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my mistress's house, oh, my poor mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh, the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Hello, Kreacher,' said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise. 'Kreacher did not see young master,' he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still lacing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, 'Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is.'</s> [INST]

'Hello, Kreacher,' said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap. The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise. 'Kreacher did not see young master,' he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still lacing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, 'Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Sorry?' said George. 'Didn't catch that last bit.'</s> [INST]

'Sorry?' said George. 'Didn't catch that last bit.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Kreacher said nothing,' said the elf, with a second box to George, adding in a clear undertone, 'and there its twin, unnataral little beasts they are.'</s> [INST]

'Kreacher said nothing,' said the elf, with a second box to George, adding in a clear undertone, 'and there its twin, unnataral little beasts they are.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. The elf straightened up, eyeing them all malevolently, and apparently convinced that they could not hear him as he continued to mutter. '... and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my mistress knew, oh, how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name. What is he doing here? Kreacher doesn't know.. 'Harry Potter.'</s> [INST]

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not. The elf straightened up, eyeing them all malevolently, and apparently convinced that they could not hear him as he continued to mutter. '... and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my mistress knew, oh, how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name. What is he doing here? Kreacher doesn't know.. 'Harry Potter.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever. Kreacher was still muttering, his eyes on Harry. 'Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's the boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it - '</s> [INST]

Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever. Kreacher was still muttering, his eyes on Harry. 'Is it true? Is it Harry Potter? Kreacher can see the scar, it must be true, that's the boy who stopped the Dark Lord, Kreacher wonders how he did it - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Don't we all, Kreacher,' said Fred. 'What do you want, anyway?' George asked. Kreacher's huge eyes darted towards George. 'Kreacher is cleaning,' he said evasively. 'A likely story,' said a voice behind Harry. Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mrs Weasley and Mundungus had moved their argument down into the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. 'Stand up straight,' said Sirius impatiently. 'Now, what are you up to?'</s> [INST]

'Don't we all, Kreacher,' said Fred. 'What do you want, anyway?' George asked. Kreacher's huge eyes darted towards George. 'Kreacher is cleaning,' he said evasively. 'A likely story,' said a voice behind Harry. Sirius had come back; he was glowering at the elf from the doorway. The noise in the hall had abated; perhaps Mrs Weasley and Mundungus had moved their argument down into the kitchen. At the sight of Sirius, Kreacher flung himself into a ridiculously low bow that flattened his snoutlike nose on the floor. 'Stand up straight,' said Sirius impatiently. 'Now, what are you up to?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Kreacher is cleaning,' the elf repeated. 'Kreacher lives to serve lie Noble House of Black - '</s> [INST]

'Kreacher is cleaning,' the elf repeated. 'Kreacher lives to serve lie Noble House of Black - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'And it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy,' said Sirius. 'Master always liked his little joke,' said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, 'Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart - '</s> [INST]

'And it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy,' said Sirius. 'Master always liked his little joke,' said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, 'Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher,' snapped Sirius. 'She kept herself alive out of pure spite.'</s> [INST]

'My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher,' snapped Sirius. 'She kept herself alive out of pure spite.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Kreacher bowed again as he spoke. 'Whatever Master says,' he muttered furiously. 'Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was - '</s> [INST]

Kreacher bowed again as he spoke. 'Whatever Master says,' he muttered furiously. 'Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'I asked you what you were up to,' said Sirius coldly. 'Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out.'</s> [INST]

'I asked you what you were up to,' said Sirius coldly. 'Every time you show up pretending to be cleaning, you sneak something off to your room so we can't throw it out.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house,' said the elf, then muttered very fast, 'Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it - '</s> [INST]

'Kreacher would never move anything from its proper place in Master's house,' said the elf, then muttered very fast, 'Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if the tapestry was thrown out, seven centuries it's been in the family, Kreacher must save it, Kreacher will not let Master and the blood traitors and the brats destroy it - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'I thought it might be that,' said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. 'She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher.'</s> [INST]

'I thought it might be that,' said Sirius, casting a disdainful look at the opposite wall. 'She'll have put another Permanent Sticking Charm on the back of it, I don't doubt, but if I can get rid of it I certainly will. Now go away, Kreacher.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was full of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room. '- comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too - '</s> [INST]

It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order; nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was full of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room. '- comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!' said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf. 'And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it.'</s> [INST]

'Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!' said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf. 'And anyway, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Sirius walked across the room to where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. Harry and the others followed. The tapestry looked immensely old; it was laded and looked as though Doxys had gnawed it in places. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back (as far as Harry could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:</s> [INST]

Sirius walked across the room to where the tapestry Kreacher had been trying to protect hung the length of the wall. Harry and the others followed. The tapestry looked immensely old; it was laded and looked as though Doxys had gnawed it in places. Nevertheless, the golden thread with which it was embroidered still glinted brightly enough to show them a sprawling family tree dating back (as far as Harry could tell) to the Middle Ages. Large words at the very top of the tapestry read:</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black</s> [INST]

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Toujours pur'</s> [INST]

Toujours pur'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'You're not on here!' said Harry, after scanning the bottom of the tree closely. 'I used to be there,' said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. 'My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath.'</s> [INST]

'You're not on here!' said Harry, after scanning the bottom of the tree closely. 'I used to be there,' said Sirius, pointing at a small, round, charred hole in the tapestry, rather like a cigarette burn. 'My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'You ran away from home?'</s> [INST]

'You ran away from home?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'When I was about sixteen,' said Sirius. 'I'd had enough.'</s> [INST]

'When I was about sixteen,' said Sirius. 'I'd had enough.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Where did you go?' asked Harry, staring at him. 'Your dad's place,' said Sirius. 'Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dads in the school holidays, and when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - he's been wiped off here, too, that's probably why - anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr and Mrs Potters for Sunday lunch, though.'</s> [INST]

'Where did you go?' asked Harry, staring at him. 'Your dad's place,' said Sirius. 'Your grandparents were really good about it; they sort of adopted me as a second son. Yeah, I camped out at your dads in the school holidays, and when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - he's been wiped off here, too, that's probably why - anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr and Mrs Potters for Sunday lunch, though.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'But... why did you...?'</s> [INST]

'But... why did you...?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Leave?' Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his long, unkempt hair. 'Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them... that's him.'</s> [INST]

'Leave?' Sirius smiled bitterly and ran his fingers through his long, unkempt hair. 'Because I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them... that's him.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name 'Regulus Black'. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth. 'He was younger than me,' said Sirius, 'and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded.'</s> [INST]

Sirius jabbed a finger at the very bottom of the tree, at the name 'Regulus Black'. A date of death (some fifteen years previously) followed the date of birth. 'He was younger than me,' said Sirius, 'and a much better son, as I was constantly reminded.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'But he died,' said Harry. 'Yeah,' said Sirius. 'Stupid idiot... he joined the Death Eaters.'</s> [INST]

'But he died,' said Harry. 'Yeah,' said Sirius. 'Stupid idiot... he joined the Death Eaters.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'You're kidding!'</s> [INST]

'You're kidding!'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?' said Sirius testily. 'Were - were your parents Death Eaters as well?'</s> [INST]

'Come on, Harry, haven't you seen enough of this house to tell what kind of wizards my family were?' said Sirius testily. 'Were - were your parents Death Eaters as well?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colours, who thought he had the right idea about things... they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first.'</s> [INST]

'No, no, but believe me, they thought Voldemort had the right idea, they were all for the purification of the wizarding race, getting rid of Muggle-borns and having pure-bloods in charge. They weren't alone, either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colours, who thought he had the right idea about things... they got cold feet when they saw what he was prepared to do to get power, though. But I bet my parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Was he killed by an Auror?' Harry asked tentatively. 'Oh, no,' said Sirius. 'No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he: was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death.'</s> [INST]

'Was he killed by an Auror?' Harry asked tentatively. 'Oh, no,' said Sirius. 'No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely; I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he: was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Lunch,' said Mrs Weasley's voice. She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. The others moved over to her, eager for some food, but Harry remained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry. 'I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellu;... my great-great-grandfather, see?... least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had... and Araminta Meliflua... cousin of my mother's... tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal... and dear Aunt Elladora... she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays... of course, any time the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her - he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him - '</s> [INST]

'Lunch,' said Mrs Weasley's voice. She was holding her wand high in front of her, balancing a huge tray loaded with sandwiches and cake on its tip. She was very red in the face and still looked angry. The others moved over to her, eager for some food, but Harry remained with Sirius, who had bent closer to the tapestry. 'I haven't looked at this for years. There's Phineas Nigellu;... my great-great-grandfather, see?... least popular Headmaster Hogwarts ever had... and Araminta Meliflua... cousin of my mother's... tried to force through a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal... and dear Aunt Elladora... she started the family tradition of beheading house-elves when they got too old to carry tea trays... of course, any time the family produced someone halfway decent they were disowned. I see Tonks isn't on here. Maybe that's why Kreacher won't take orders from her - he's supposed to do whatever anyone in the family asks him - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'You and Tonks are related?' Harry asked, surprised. 'Oh, yeah, her mother Andromeda was my favourite col sin, said Sirius, examining the tapestry closely. 'No, Andromeda's not on here either, look - '</s> [INST]

'You and Tonks are related?' Harry asked, surprised. 'Oh, yeah, her mother Andromeda was my favourite col sin, said Sirius, examining the tapestry closely. 'No, Andromeda's not on here either, look - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> He pointed to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa. 'Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so - '</s> [INST]

He pointed to another small round burn mark between two names, Bellatrix and Narcissa. 'Andromeda's sisters are still here because they made lovely, respectable pure-blood marriages, but Andromeda married a Muggle-born, Ted Tonks, so - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly. Harry, however, did not laugh; he was too busy staring at the names to the right of Andromeda's burn mark. A double line of gold embroidery linked Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy and a single vertical gold line from their names led to the name Draco. 'You're related to the Malfoy's!'</s> [INST]

Sirius mimed blasting the tapestry with a wand and laughed sourly. Harry, however, did not laugh; he was too busy staring at the names to the right of Andromeda's burn mark. A double line of gold embroidery linked Narcissa Black with Lucius Malfoy and a single vertical gold line from their names led to the name Draco. 'You're related to the Malfoy's!'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> The pure-blood families are all interrelated, said Sirius. 'If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry pure-bloods our choice is very limited; there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for then on here - if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weaseys.'</s> [INST]

The pure-blood families are all interrelated, said Sirius. 'If you're only going to let your sons and daughters marry pure-bloods our choice is very limited; there are hardly any of us left. Molly and I are cousins by marriage and Arthur's something like my second cousin once removed. But there's no point looking for then on here - if ever a family was a bunch of blood traitors it's the Weaseys.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> But Harry was now looking at the name to the left of Andromeda's burn: Bellatrix Black, which was connected by a double line to Rodolphus Lestrange. 'Lestrange...' Harry said aloud. The name had stirred something in his memory; he knew it from somewhere, but for a moment he couldn't think where, though it gave him an odd, creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach. 'They're in Azkaban,' said Sirius shortly. Harry looked at him curiously. 'Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch junior,' said Sirius, in the same brusque voice. 'Rodolphuss brother Rabastan was with them, too.'</s> [INST]

But Harry was now looking at the name to the left of Andromeda's burn: Bellatrix Black, which was connected by a double line to Rodolphus Lestrange. 'Lestrange...' Harry said aloud. The name had stirred something in his memory; he knew it from somewhere, but for a moment he couldn't think where, though it gave him an odd, creeping sensation in the pit of his stomach. 'They're in Azkaban,' said Sirius shortly. Harry looked at him curiously. 'Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus came in with Barty Crouch junior,' said Sirius, in the same brusque voice. 'Rodolphuss brother Rabastan was with them, too.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Then Harry remembered. He had seen Bellatrix Lestrange inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the strange device in which thoughts and memories could be stored: a tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort, her pride that she had tried to find him after his downfall and her conviction that she would one day be rewarded for her loyalty. 'You never said she was your - '</s> [INST]

Then Harry remembered. He had seen Bellatrix Lestrange inside Dumbledore's Pensieve, the strange device in which thoughts and memories could be stored: a tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort, her pride that she had tried to find him after his downfall and her conviction that she would one day be rewarded for her loyalty. 'You never said she was your - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Does it matter if she's my cousin?' snapped Sirius. 'As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having a relative like her?'</s> [INST]

'Does it matter if she's my cousin?' snapped Sirius. 'As far as I'm concerned, they're not my family. She's certainly not my family. I haven't seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D'you think I'm proud of having a relative like her?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'Sorry,' said Harry quickly, 'I didn't mean - I was just surprised, that's all - '</s> [INST]

'Sorry,' said Harry quickly, 'I didn't mean - I was just surprised, that's all - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'It doesn't matter, don't apologise,' Sirius mumbled. He turned away from the tapestry, his hands deep in his pockets. 'I don't like being back here,' he said, staring across the drawing room. 'I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again.'</s> [INST]

'It doesn't matter, don't apologise,' Sirius mumbled. He turned away from the tapestry, his hands deep in his pockets. 'I don't like being back here,' he said, staring across the drawing room. 'I never thought I'd be stuck in this house again.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Harry understood completely. He knew how he would feel, when he was grown up and thought he was free of the place for ever, to return and live at number four, Privet Drive. 'It's ideal for Headquarters, of course; Sirius said. 'My father put every security measure known to wizardkind on it when he lived here. It's unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call - as if they d ever have wanted to - and now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore is Secret Keeper for the Order, you know - nobody can find Headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is - that note Moody showed you last night, that was from Dumbledore...' Sirius gave a short, bark-like laugh. 'If my parents could see the use their house was being put to now... well, my mothers portrait should give you some idea. He scowled for a moment, then sighed. 'I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you, to your hearing - as Snuffles, obviously - so I can give you a bit of moral support, what d'you think?'</s> [INST]

Harry understood completely. He knew how he would feel, when he was grown up and thought he was free of the place for ever, to return and live at number four, Privet Drive. 'It's ideal for Headquarters, of course; Sirius said. 'My father put every security measure known to wizardkind on it when he lived here. It's unplottable, so Muggles could never come and call - as if they d ever have wanted to - and now Dumbledore's added his protection, you'd be hard put to find a safer house anywhere. Dumbledore is Secret Keeper for the Order, you know - nobody can find Headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is - that note Moody showed you last night, that was from Dumbledore...' Sirius gave a short, bark-like laugh. 'If my parents could see the use their house was being put to now... well, my mothers portrait should give you some idea. He scowled for a moment, then sighed. 'I wouldn't mind if I could just get out occasionally and do something useful. I've asked Dumbledore whether I can escort you, to your hearing - as Snuffles, obviously - so I can give you a bit of moral support, what d'you think?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Harry felt as though his stomach had sunk through the dusty carpet. He had not thought about the hearing once since dinner the previous evening; in the excitement of being back with the people he liked best, and hearing everything that was going on, it had completely flown his mind. At Sirius's words, however, the crushing sense of dread returned to him. 'Don't worry,' Sirius said. Harry looked up and realised that Sirius had been watching him. 'I'm sure they'll clear you, there's definitely something in the International Statute of Secrecy about being allowed to use magic to save your own life.'</s> [INST]

Harry felt as though his stomach had sunk through the dusty carpet. He had not thought about the hearing once since dinner the previous evening; in the excitement of being back with the people he liked best, and hearing everything that was going on, it had completely flown his mind. At Sirius's words, however, the crushing sense of dread returned to him. 'Don't worry,' Sirius said. Harry looked up and realised that Sirius had been watching him. 'I'm sure they'll clear you, there's definitely something in the International Statute of Secrecy about being allowed to use magic to save your own life.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> But if they do expel me,' said Harry quietly, 'can I come back here and live with you?'</s> [INST]

But if they do expel me,' said Harry quietly, 'can I come back here and live with you?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Sirius smiled sadly. 'We'll see.'</s> [INST]

Sirius smiled sadly. 'We'll see.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> 'I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys',' Harry pressed him. They must be bad if you prefer this place,' said Sirius gloomily. 'Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left,' Mrs Weasley called. Sirius heaved another great sigh, cast a dark look at the tapestry, then he and Harry went to join the others. Harry tried his best not to think about the hearing while he emptied the glass-fronted cabinets that afternoon. Fortunately for him, it was a job that required a lot of concentration, as many of the objects in there seemed very reluctant to leave their dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a bad bite from a silver snuffbox; within seconds his bitten hand had developed an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove. 'Its OK,' he said, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin to normal,'must be Wartcap powder in there.'</s> [INST]

'I'd feel a lot better about the hearing if I knew I didn't have to go back to the Dursleys',' Harry pressed him. They must be bad if you prefer this place,' said Sirius gloomily. 'Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left,' Mrs Weasley called. Sirius heaved another great sigh, cast a dark look at the tapestry, then he and Harry went to join the others. Harry tried his best not to think about the hearing while he emptied the glass-fronted cabinets that afternoon. Fortunately for him, it was a job that required a lot of concentration, as many of the objects in there seemed very reluctant to leave their dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a bad bite from a silver snuffbox; within seconds his bitten hand had developed an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove. 'Its OK,' he said, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin to normal,'must be Wartcap powder in there.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> He threw the box aside into the sack where they were depositing the debris from the cabinets; Harry saw George wrap his own hand carefully in a cloth moments later and sneak the box into his already Doxy-filled pocket. They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttled up Harry's arm like a spider when he picked it up, and attempted to puncture his skin. Sirius seized it and smashed it with a heavy book entitled Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. There was a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all found themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy, until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut; a heavy locket that none of them could open; a number of ancient seals; and, in a dusty box, an Order of Merlin, First Class, that had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for'services to the Ministry'. 'It means he gave them a load of gold,' said Sirius contemptuously throwing the medal into the rubbish sack. Several times Kreacher sidled into the room and attempted to smuggle things away under his loincloth, muttering horrible curses every time they caught him at it. When Sirius wrested a large go den ring bearing the Black crest from his grip, Kreacher actually burst into furious tears and left the room sobbing under his breath and calling Sirius names Harry had never heard before. 'It was my father's,' said Sirius, throwing the ring into the sack. 'Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted to him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week.'</s> [INST]

He threw the box aside into the sack where they were depositing the debris from the cabinets; Harry saw George wrap his own hand carefully in a cloth moments later and sneak the box into his already Doxy-filled pocket. They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, which scuttled up Harry's arm like a spider when he picked it up, and attempted to puncture his skin. Sirius seized it and smashed it with a heavy book entitled Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy. There was a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all found themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy, until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut; a heavy locket that none of them could open; a number of ancient seals; and, in a dusty box, an Order of Merlin, First Class, that had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for'services to the Ministry'. 'It means he gave them a load of gold,' said Sirius contemptuously throwing the medal into the rubbish sack. Several times Kreacher sidled into the room and attempted to smuggle things away under his loincloth, muttering horrible curses every time they caught him at it. When Sirius wrested a large go den ring bearing the Black crest from his grip, Kreacher actually burst into furious tears and left the room sobbing under his breath and calling Sirius names Harry had never heard before. 'It was my father's,' said Sirius, throwing the ring into the sack. 'Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted to him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> *</s> [INST]

*</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s> Mrs Weasley kept them all working very hard over the next few days. The drawing room took three days to decontaminate. Finally, the only undesirable things left in it were the tapestry of the Black family tree, which resisted all their attempts to remove it from the wall, and the rattling writing desk. Moody had not dropped by Headquarters yet, so they could not be sure what was inside it. The china, which bore the Black crest and motto, was all thrown unceremoniously into a sack by Sirius, and the same fate met a set of old photographs in tarnished silver frames, all of whose occupants squealed shrilly as the glass covering them smashed. Snape might refer to their work as 'cleaning', but in Harry's opinion they were really waging war on the house, which was putting up a very good fight, aided and abetted by Kreacher. The house-elf kept appearing wherever they were congregated, his muttering becoming more and more offensive as he attempted to remove anything he could from the rubbish sacks. Sirius went as far as to threaten him with clothes, but Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare and said, 'Master must do as Master wishes,' before turning away and muttering very loudly, 'but Master will not turn Kreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they are up to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, with these Mudblood and traitors and scum.. The doorbell rang several times a day, which was the cue for Sirius's mother to start shrieking again, and for Harry and the others to attempt to eavesdrop on the visitor, though they gleaned very little from the brief glimpses and snatches of conversation they were able to sneak before Mrs Weasley recalled them to their tasks. Snape flitted in and out of the house several times more, though to Harry's relief they never came face to face; Harry also caught sight of his Transfiguration teacher Professor McGonagall, looking very odd in a Muggle dress and coat, and she also seemed too busy to linger. Sometimes, however, the visitors stayed to help. Tonks joined them for a</s> [INST]

Mrs Weasley kept them all working very hard over the next few days. The drawing room took three days to decontaminate. Finally, the only undesirable things left in it were the tapestry of the Black family tree, which resisted all their attempts to remove it from the wall, and the rattling writing desk. Moody had not dropped by Headquarters yet, so they could not be sure what was inside it. The china, which bore the Black crest and motto, was all thrown unceremoniously into a sack by Sirius, and the same fate met a set of old photographs in tarnished silver frames, all of whose occupants squealed shrilly as the glass covering them smashed. Snape might refer to their work as 'cleaning', but in Harry's opinion they were really waging war on the house, which was putting up a very good fight, aided and abetted by Kreacher. The house-elf kept appearing wherever they were congregated, his muttering becoming more and more offensive as he attempted to remove anything he could from the rubbish sacks. Sirius went as far as to threaten him with clothes, but Kreacher fixed him with a watery stare and said, 'Master must do as Master wishes,' before turning away and muttering very loudly, 'but Master will not turn Kreacher away, no, because Kreacher knows what they are up to, oh yes, he is plotting against the Dark Lord, yes, with these Mudblood and traitors and scum.. The doorbell rang several times a day, which was the cue for Sirius's mother to start shrieking again, and for Harry and the others to attempt to eavesdrop on the visitor, though they gleaned very little from the brief glimpses and snatches of conversation they were able to sneak before Mrs Weasley recalled them to their tasks. Snape flitted in and out of the house several times more, though to Harry's relief they never came face to face; Harry also caught sight of his Transfiguration teacher Professor McGonagall, looking very odd in a Muggle dress and coat, and she also seemed too busy to linger. Sometimes, however, the visitors stayed to help. Tonks joined them for a</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s>able afternoon in which they found a murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet, and Lupin, who was staying in the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order, helped them repair a grandfather clock that had developed the unpleasant habit of shooting heavy bolts at passers-by. Despite the fact that he was still sleeping badly, still having dreams about corridors and locked doors that made his scar prickle, Harry was managing to have fun for the first time all summer. As long as he was busy he was happy; when the action abated, however, whenever he dropped his guard, or lay exhausted in bed watching blurred shadows move across the ceiling, the thought of the looming Ministry hearing returned to him. Fear jabbed at his insides like needles as he wondered what was going to happen to him if he was expelled. Sometimes, he could not prevent his imagination showing him a faceless Ministry official who was snapping his wand in two and ordering him back to the Dursleys'... but he would not go. He was determined on that. He would come back here to Grimmauld Place and live with Sirius. He felt as though a brick had dropped into his stomach when Mrs Weasley turned to him during dinner on Wednesday evening and said quietly, 'I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you to wash your hair tonight, too. Harry nodded and tried to keep eating his chop, but his mouth had become so dry he could not chew. 'How am I getting there?' he asked Mrs Weasley, trying to sound unconcerned. 'Arthur's taking you to work with him,' said Mrs Weasley gently. Mr Weasley smiled encouragingly at Harry across the table. 'You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing,' he said. Harry looked over at Sirius, but before he could ask the question, Mrs Weasley had answered it. 'Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I - '</s> [INST]

able afternoon in which they found a murderous old ghoul lurking in an upstairs toilet, and Lupin, who was staying in the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order, helped them repair a grandfather clock that had developed the unpleasant habit of shooting heavy bolts at passers-by. Despite the fact that he was still sleeping badly, still having dreams about corridors and locked doors that made his scar prickle, Harry was managing to have fun for the first time all summer. As long as he was busy he was happy; when the action abated, however, whenever he dropped his guard, or lay exhausted in bed watching blurred shadows move across the ceiling, the thought of the looming Ministry hearing returned to him. Fear jabbed at his insides like needles as he wondered what was going to happen to him if he was expelled. Sometimes, he could not prevent his imagination showing him a faceless Ministry official who was snapping his wand in two and ordering him back to the Dursleys'... but he would not go. He was determined on that. He would come back here to Grimmauld Place and live with Sirius. He felt as though a brick had dropped into his stomach when Mrs Weasley turned to him during dinner on Wednesday evening and said quietly, 'I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you to wash your hair tonight, too. Harry nodded and tried to keep eating his chop, but his mouth had become so dry he could not chew. 'How am I getting there?' he asked Mrs Weasley, trying to sound unconcerned. 'Arthur's taking you to work with him,' said Mrs Weasley gently. Mr Weasley smiled encouragingly at Harry across the table. 'You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing,' he said. Harry looked over at Sirius, but before he could ask the question, Mrs Weasley had answered it. 'Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I - '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 7> <s>'- think he's quite right,' said Sirius through clenched teeth. Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. 'When did Dumbledore tell you that?' Harry said, staring at Sirius. 'He came last night, when you were in bed,' said Mr Weasley</s> [INST]

' - think he's quite right,' said Sirius through clenched teeth. Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. 'When did Dumbledore tell you that?' Harry said, staring at Sirius. 'He came last night, when you were in bed,' said Mr Weasley</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> The Ministry of Magic</s> [INST]

The Ministry of Magic</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry awoke at half past five the next morning as abruptly and completely as if somebody had yelled in his ear. For a few moments he lay immobile as the prospect of the disciplinary hearing filled every tiny particle of his brain, then, unable to bear it, he leapt out of bed and put on his glasses. Mrs Weasley had laid out his freshly laundered jeans and T-shirt at the foot of his bed. Harry scrambled into them. The blank picture on the wall sniggered. He did not stir as Harry crossed the room, stepped out on to the landing and closed the door softly behind him. He had expected it to be empty, but when he reached the door he heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side. He pushed it open and saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Lupin and Tonks sitting there almost as though they were waiting for him. All were fully dressed except Mrs Weasley, who was wearing a quilted purple dressing gown. She leapt to her feet the moment Harry entered. 'Breakfast,' she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire. 'M - m - morning, Harry,' yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. 'Sleep all right?'</s> [INST]

Harry awoke at half past five the next morning as abruptly and completely as if somebody had yelled in his ear. For a few moments he lay immobile as the prospect of the disciplinary hearing filled every tiny particle of his brain, then, unable to bear it, he leapt out of bed and put on his glasses. Mrs Weasley had laid out his freshly laundered jeans and T-shirt at the foot of his bed. Harry scrambled into them. The blank picture on the wall sniggered. He did not stir as Harry crossed the room, stepped out on to the landing and closed the door softly behind him. He had expected it to be empty, but when he reached the door he heard the soft rumble of voices on the other side. He pushed it open and saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Lupin and Tonks sitting there almost as though they were waiting for him. All were fully dressed except Mrs Weasley, who was wearing a quilted purple dressing gown. She leapt to her feet the moment Harry entered. 'Breakfast,' she said as she pulled out her wand and hurried over to the fire. 'M - m - morning, Harry,' yawned Tonks. Her hair was blonde and curly this morning. 'Sleep all right?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I've b - b - been up all night,' she said, with another shuddering yawn. 'Come and sit down...'</s> [INST]

'Yeah,' said Harry. 'I've b - b - been up all night,' she said, with another shuddering yawn. 'Come and sit down...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> She drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it ir the process. 'What do you want, Harry?' Mrs Weasley called. 'Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?'</s> [INST]

She drew out a chair, knocking over the one beside it ir the process. 'What do you want, Harry?' Mrs Weasley called. 'Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Just - just toast, thanks,' said Harry. Lupin glanced at Harry, then said to Tonks, 'What were you saying about Scrimgeour?'</s> [INST]

'Just - just toast, thanks,' said Harry. Lupin glanced at Harry, then said to Tonks, 'What were you saying about Scrimgeour?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Oh... yeah... well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions...'</s> [INST]

'Oh... yeah... well, we need to be a bit more careful, he's been asking Kingsley and me funny questions...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation. His insides were squirming. Mrs Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him; he tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet. Mrs Weasley sat down on his other side and started fussing with his T-shirt, tucking in the label and smoothing out the creases across his shoulders. He wished she wouldn't. '... and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t - t - too tired,' Tonks finished, yawning hugely again. 'Ill cover for you,' said Mr Weasley. 'I'm OK, I've got a report to finish anyway</s> [INST]

Harry felt vaguely grateful that he was not required to join in the conversation. His insides were squirming. Mrs Weasley placed a couple of pieces of toast and marmalade in front of him; he tried to eat, but it was like chewing carpet. Mrs Weasley sat down on his other side and started fussing with his T-shirt, tucking in the label and smoothing out the creases across his shoulders. He wished she wouldn't. '... and I'll have to tell Dumbledore I can't do night duty tomorrow, I'm just t - t - too tired,' Tonks finished, yawning hugely again. 'Ill cover for you,' said Mr Weasley. 'I'm OK, I've got a report to finish anyway</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Mr Weasley was not wearing wizards' robes but a pair of pinstriped trousers and an old bomber jacket. He turned from Tonks to Harry. 'How are you feeling?'</s> [INST]

Mr Weasley was not wearing wizards' robes but a pair of pinstriped trousers and an old bomber jacket. He turned from Tonks to Harry. 'How are you feeling?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry shrugged. 'It'll all be over soon,' Mr Weasley said bracingly. 'In a few hours' time you'll be cleared.'</s> [INST]

Harry shrugged. 'It'll all be over soon,' Mr Weasley said bracingly. 'In a few hours' time you'll be cleared.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry said nothing. The hearings on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you.'</s> [INST]

Harry said nothing. The hearings on my floor, in Amelia Bones's office. She's Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the one who'll be questioning you.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Amelia Bones is OK, Harry,' said Tonks earnestly. 'She's fair, she'll hear you out.'</s> [INST]

'Amelia Bones is OK, Harry,' said Tonks earnestly. 'She's fair, she'll hear you out.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry nodded, still unable to think of anything to say. 'Don't lose your temper,' said Sirius abruptly. 'Be polite and stick to the facts.'</s> [INST]

Harry nodded, still unable to think of anything to say. 'Don't lose your temper,' said Sirius abruptly. 'Be polite and stick to the facts.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry nodded again. The law's on your side,' said Lupin quietly. 'Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.'</s> [INST]

Harry nodded again. The law's on your side,' said Lupin quietly. 'Even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in life-threatening situations.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Something very cold trickled down the back of Harry's neck; for a moment he thought someone was putting a Disillusionment Charm on him, then he realised that Mrs Weasley was attacking his hair with a wet comb. She pressed hard on the top of his head. 'Doesn't it ever lie flat?' she said desperately. Harry shook his head. Mr Weasley checked his watch and looked up at Harry. I think we'll go now,' he said. 'We're a bit early, but I think you 11 be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.'</s> [INST]

Something very cold trickled down the back of Harry's neck; for a moment he thought someone was putting a Disillusionment Charm on him, then he realised that Mrs Weasley was attacking his hair with a wet comb. She pressed hard on the top of his head. 'Doesn't it ever lie flat?' she said desperately. Harry shook his head. Mr Weasley checked his watch and looked up at Harry. I think we'll go now,' he said. 'We're a bit early, but I think you 11 be better off at the Ministry than hanging around here.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'OK,' said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet. 'You'll be all right, Harry,' said Tonks, palling him on the arm. 'Good luck,' said Lupin. 'I'm sure it will be fine.'</s> [INST]

'OK,' said Harry automatically, dropping his toast and getting to his feet. 'You'll be all right, Harry,' said Tonks, palling him on the arm. 'Good luck,' said Lupin. 'I'm sure it will be fine.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'And if it's not,' said Sirius grimly, 'I'll see to Amelia Bones for you...'</s> [INST]

'And if it's not,' said Sirius grimly, 'I'll see to Amelia Bones for you...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Harry smiled weakly. Mrs Weasley hugged him. 'We've all got our fingers crossed,' she said. 'Right,' said Harry. 'Well... see you later then.'</s> [INST]

Harry smiled weakly. Mrs Weasley hugged him. 'We've all got our fingers crossed,' she said. 'Right,' said Harry. 'Well... see you later then.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> He followed Mr Weasley upstairs and along the hall. He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. Mr Weasley unbolted the door and they stepped out into the cold, grey dawn. 'You don't normally walk to work, do you?' Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square. 'No, I usually Apparate,' said Mr Weasley, 'but obviously you can't, and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for...'</s> [INST]

He followed Mr Weasley upstairs and along the hall. He could hear Sirius's mother grunting in her sleep behind her curtains. Mr Weasley unbolted the door and they stepped out into the cold, grey dawn. 'You don't normally walk to work, do you?' Harry asked him, as they set off briskly around the square. 'No, I usually Apparate,' said Mr Weasley, 'but obviously you can't, and I think it's best we arrive in a thoroughly non-magical fashion... makes a better impression, given what you're being disciplined for...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Mr Weasley kept his hand inside his jacket as they walked. Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The run-down streets were al most deserted, but when they arrived at the miserable little underground station they found it already lull of early-morning commuters. As ever when he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business, Mr Weasley was hard put to contain his enthusiasm. 'Simply fabulous,' he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines. 'Wonderfully ingenious.'</s> [INST]

Mr Weasley kept his hand inside his jacket as they walked. Harry knew it was clenched around his wand. The run-down streets were al most deserted, but when they arrived at the miserable little underground station they found it already lull of early-morning commuters. As ever when he found himself in close proximity to Muggles going about their daily business, Mr Weasley was hard put to contain his enthusiasm. 'Simply fabulous,' he whispered, indicating the automatic ticket machines. 'Wonderfully ingenious.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> They're out of order,' said Harry, pointing at the sign. 'Yes, but even so...' said Mr Weasley, beaming at them fondly. They bought their tickets instead from a sleepy-looking guard (Harry handled the transaction, as Mr Weasley was not very good with Muggle money) and five minutes later they were boarding an underground train that rattled them off towards the centre of London. Mr Weasley kept anxiously checking and re-checking the Underground Map above the windows. 'Four more stops, Harry... Three stops led now... Two stops to go, Harry...'</s> [INST]

They're out of order,' said Harry, pointing at the sign. 'Yes, but even so...' said Mr Weasley, beaming at them fondly. They bought their tickets instead from a sleepy-looking guard (Harry handled the transaction, as Mr Weasley was not very good with Muggle money) and five minutes later they were boarding an underground train that rattled them off towards the centre of London. Mr Weasley kept anxiously checking and re-checking the Underground Map above the windows. 'Four more stops, Harry... Three stops led now... Two stops to go, Harry...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> They got off at a station in the very heart of London, and were swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. Up the escalator they went, through the ticket barrier (Mr Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket), and emerged on to a broad street lined with imposing-looking buildings and already full of traffic. 'Where are we?' said Mr Weasley blankly, and for one heart-stopping moment Harry thought they had got off at the wrong station despite Mr Weasley's continual references to the map; but a second later he said, 'Ah yes... this way, Harry,' and led him down a side road. 'Sorry,' he 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 visitors' entrance before.'</s> [INST]

They got off at a station in the very heart of London, and were swept from the train in a tide of besuited men and women carrying briefcases. Up the escalator they went, through the ticket barrier (Mr Weasley delighted with the way the stile swallowed his ticket), and emerged on to a broad street lined with imposing-looking buildings and already full of traffic. 'Where are we?' said Mr Weasley blankly, and for one heart-stopping moment Harry thought they had got off at the wrong station despite Mr Weasley's continual references to the map; but a second later he said, 'Ah yes... this way, Harry,' and led him down a side road. 'Sorry,' he 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 visitors' entrance before.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> The further they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip. Harry had expected a rather more impressive location for the Ministry of Magic. 'Here we are,' said Mr Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. 'After you, Harry.'</s> [INST]

The further they walked, the smaller and less imposing the buildings became, until finally they reached a street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip. Harry had expected a rather more impressive location for the Ministry of Magic. 'Here we are,' said Mr Weasley brightly, pointing at an old red telephone box, which was missing several panes of glass and stood before a heavily graffitied wall. 'After you, Harry.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> He opened the telephone-box door. Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. Mr Weasley folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. It was a tight fit; Harry was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver. 'Mr Weasley, I think this might be out of order, too,' Harry said. 'No, no, I'm sure its fine,' said Mr Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. 'Let's see... six...' he dialled the number, 'two... four... and another four... and another two...'</s> [INST]

He opened the telephone-box door. Harry stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. Mr Weasley folded himself in beside Harry and closed the door. It was a tight fit; Harry was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off. Mr Weasley reached past Harry for the receiver. 'Mr Weasley, I think this might be out of order, too,' Harry said. 'No, no, I'm sure its fine,' said Mr Weasley, holding the receiver above his head and peering at the dial. 'Let's see... six...' he dialled the number, 'two... four... and another four... and another two...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them. 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'</s> [INST]

As the dial whirred smoothly back into place, a cool female voice sounded inside the telephone box, not from the receiver in Mr Weasley's hand, but as loudly and plainly as though an invisible woman were standing right beside them. 'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Er...' said Mr Weasley, clearly uncertain whether or not he should talk into the receiver. He compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, 'Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing...'</s> [INST]

'Er...' said Mr Weasley, clearly uncertain whether or not he should talk into the receiver. He compromised by holding the mouthpiece to his ear, 'Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, here to escort Harry Potter, who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing...'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.'</s> [INST]

'Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice spoke again. 'Visitor 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 '</s> [INST]

There was a click and a rattle, and Harry saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice spoke again. 'Visitor 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 '</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes watering. 'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,' said the woman's voice. The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open. They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The wall's on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh. On the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart. Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all locking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaurs a tow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most</s> [INST]

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground. Harry watched apprehensively as the pavement seemed to rise up past the glass windows of the telephone box until darkness closed over their heads. Then he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, though it felt much longer to Harry, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes watering. 'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,' said the woman's voice. The door of the telephone box sprang open and Mr Weasley stepped out of it, followed by Harry, whose mouth had fallen open. They were standing at one end of a very long and splendid hall with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with gleaming golden symbols that kept moving and changing like some enormous heavenly noticeboard. The wall's on each side were panelled in shiny dark wood and had many gilded fireplaces set into them. Every few seconds a witch or wizard would emerge from one of the left-hand fireplaces with a soft whoosh. On the right-hand side, short queues were forming before each fireplace, waiting to depart. Halfway down the hall was a fountain. A group of golden statues, larger than life-size, stood in the middle of a circular pool. Tallest of them all was a noble-looking wizard with his wand pointing straight up in the air. Grouped around him were a beautiful witch, a centaur, a goblin and a house-elf. The last three were all locking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaurs a tow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the house-elf's ears, so that the tinkling hiss of falling water was added to the pops and cracks of the Apparators and the clatter of footsteps as hundreds of witches and wizards, most</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall</s> [INST]

whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'This way,' said Mr Weasley. They joined the throng, wending their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases; still others were reading the Daily Prophet while they walked. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:</s> [INST]

'This way,' said Mr Weasley. They joined the throng, wending their way between the Ministry workers, some of whom were carrying tottering piles of parchment, others battered briefcases; still others were reading the Daily Prophet while they walked. As they passed the fountain Harry saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES. If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons, Harry found himself thinking desperately. 'Over here, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, and they stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates. Seated at a desk to the left, beneath a sign saying Security, a badly-shaven wizard in peacock blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet. 'I'm escorting a visitor,' said Mr Weasley, gesturing towards Harry. 'Step over here,' said the wizard in a bored voice. Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back. 'Wand,' grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it. 'Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?'</s> [INST]

ALL PROCEEDS FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF MAGICAL BRETHREN WILL BE GIVEN TO ST MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES. If I'm not expelled from Hogwarts, I'll put in ten Galleons, Harry found himself thinking desperately. 'Over here, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, and they stepped out of the stream of Ministry employees heading for the golden gates. Seated at a desk to the left, beneath a sign saying Security, a badly-shaven wizard in peacock blue robes looked up as they approached and put down his Daily Prophet. 'I'm escorting a visitor,' said Mr Weasley, gesturing towards Harry. 'Step over here,' said the wizard in a bored voice. Harry walked closer to him and the wizard held up a long golden rod, thin and flexible as a car aerial, and passed it up and down Harry's front and back. 'Wand,' grunted the security wizard at Harry, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand. Harry produced his wand. The wizard dropped it on to a strange brass instrument, which looked something like a set of scales with only one dish. It began to vibrate. A narrow strip of parchment came speeding out of a slit in the base. The wizard tore this off and read the writing on it. 'Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use four years. That correct?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Yes,' said Harry nervously. 'I keep this,' said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. 'You get this back,' he added, thrusting the wand at Harry. Thank you.'</s> [INST]

'Yes,' said Harry nervously. 'I keep this,' said the wizard, impaling the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. 'You get this back,' he added, thrusting the wand at Harry. Thank you.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Hang on...' said the wizard slowly. His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead. Thank you, Eric,' said Mr Weasley firmly, and grasping Harry by the shoulder he steered him away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates. Jostled slightly by the crowd, Harry followed Mr Weasley through the gates into the smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Harry and Mr Weasley joined the crowd around one of them. Nearby, stood a big bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box which was emitting rasping noises. 'All right, Arthur?' said the wizard, nodding at Mr Weasley. What've you got there, Bob?' asked Mr Weasley, looking at the box. 'We're not sure,' said the wizard seriously. 'We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Looks like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me.'</s> [INST]

'Hang on...' said the wizard slowly. His eyes had darted from the silver visitor's badge on Harry's chest to his forehead. Thank you, Eric,' said Mr Weasley firmly, and grasping Harry by the shoulder he steered him away from the desk and back into the stream of wizards and witches walking through the golden gates. Jostled slightly by the crowd, Harry followed Mr Weasley through the gates into the smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Harry and Mr Weasley joined the crowd around one of them. Nearby, stood a big bearded wizard holding a large cardboard box which was emitting rasping noises. 'All right, Arthur?' said the wizard, nodding at Mr Weasley. What've you got there, Bob?' asked Mr Weasley, looking at the box. 'We're not sure,' said the wizard seriously. 'We thought it was a bog-standard chicken until it started breathing fire. Looks like a serious breach of the Ban on Experimental Breeding to me.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of them; the golden grille slid back and Harry and Mr Weasley stepped into the lift with the rest of the crowd and Harry found himself jammed against the back wall. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously; he stared at his feet to avoid catching anyone's eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling, while the same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. 'Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office.'</s> [INST]

With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of them; the golden grille slid back and Harry and Mr Weasley stepped into the lift with the rest of the crowd and Harry found himself jammed against the back wall. Several witches and wizards were looking at him curiously; he stared at his feet to avoid catching anyone's eye, flattening his fringe as he did so. The grilles slid shut with a crash and the lift ascended slowly, chains rattling, while the same cool female voice Harry had heard in the telephone box rang out again. 'Level Seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club and Ludicrous Patents Office.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> The lift doors opened. Harry glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. One of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced:</s> [INST]

The lift doors opened. Harry glimpsed an untidy-looking corridor, with various posters of Quidditch teams tacked lopsidedly on the walls. One of the wizards in the lift, who was carrying an armful of broomsticks, extricated himself with difficulty and disappeared down the corridor. The doors closed, the lift juddered upwards again and the woman's voice announced:</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.'</s> [INST]

'Level Six, Department of Magical Transportation, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office and Apparation Test Centre.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet colour and he could see Ministry of Magic stamped along the edge of their wings. 'Just inter-departmental memos,' Mr Weasley muttered to him. 'We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable... droppings a I over the desks</s> [INST]

Once again the lift doors opened and four or five witches and wizards got out; at the same time, several paper aeroplanes swooped into the lift. Harry stared up at them as they flapped idly around above his head; they were a pale violet colour and he could see Ministry of Magic stamped along the edge of their wings. 'Just inter-departmental memos,' Mr Weasley muttered to him. 'We used to use owls, but the mess was unbelievable... droppings a I over the desks</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> As they clattered upwards again the memos flapped around the lamp swaying from the lift's ceiling. 'Level Five, Department of International Magical Co-operation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.'</s> [INST]

As they clattered upwards again the memos flapped around the lamp swaying from the lift's ceiling. 'Level Five, Department of International Magical Co-operation, incorporating the International Magical Trading Standards Body, the International Magical Office of Law and the International Confederation of Wizards, British Seats.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more of the witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it. 'Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau. ''S'cuse,' said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again. 'Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.'</s> [INST]

When the doors opened, two of the memos zoomed out with a few more of the witches and wizards, but several more memos zoomed in, so that the light from the lamp flickered and flashed overhead as they darted around it. 'Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau. ''S'cuse,' said the wizard carrying the fire-breathing chicken and he left the lift pursued by a little flock of memos. The doors clanged shut yet again. 'Level Three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Everybody left the lift on this floor except Mr Weasley, Harry and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the floor. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upwards again, then the doors opened and the voice made its announcement. 'Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services.'</s> [INST]

Everybody left the lift on this floor except Mr Weasley, Harry and a witch who was reading an extremely long piece of parchment that was trailing on the floor. The remaining memos continued to soar around the lamp as the lift juddered upwards again, then the doors opened and the voice made its announcement. 'Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'This is us, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, and they followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. 'My office is on the other side of the floor.'</s> [INST]

'This is us, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, and they followed the witch out of the lift into a corridor lined with doors. 'My office is on the other side of the floor.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Mr Weasley,' said Harry, as they passed a window through which sunlight was streaming, 'aren't we still underground?'</s> [INST]

'Mr Weasley,' said Harry, as they passed a window through which sunlight was streaming, 'aren't we still underground?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Yes, we are,' said Mr Weasley. Those are enchanted windows. Magical Maintenance decide what weather we'll get every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay rise... Just round here, Harry.'</s> [INST]

'Yes, we are,' said Mr Weasley. Those are enchanted windows. Magical Maintenance decide what weather we'll get every day. We had two months of hurricanes last time they were angling for a pay rise... Just round here, Harry.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters. Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything From pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. 'Morning, Weasley,' said Kingsley carelessly, as they drew nearer. I've been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?'</s> [INST]

They turned a corner, walked through a pair of heavy oak doors and emerged in a cluttered open area divided into cubicles, which was buzzing with talk and laughter. Memos were zooming in and out of cubicles like miniature rockets. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle read: Auror Headquarters. Harry looked surreptitiously through the doorways as they passed. The Aurors had covered their cubicle walls with everything From pictures of wanted wizards and photographs of their families, to posters of their favourite Quidditch teams and articles from the Daily Prophet. A scarlet-robed man with a ponytail longer than Bill's was sitting with his boots up on his desk, dictating a report to his quill. A little further along, a witch with a patch over one eye was talking over the top of her cubicle wall to Kingsley Shacklebolt. 'Morning, Weasley,' said Kingsley carelessly, as they drew nearer. I've been wanting a word with you, have you got a second?'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'Yes, if it really is a second,' said Mr Weasley, 'I'm in rather a hurry.'</s> [INST]

'Yes, if it really is a second,' said Mr Weasley, 'I'm in rather a hurry.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> They were talking as though they hardly knew each other and when Harry opened his mouth to say hello to Kingsley, Mr We ashy stood on his foot. They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs - even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters' wedding - 'papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels. 'Here,' said Kingsley brusquely to Mr Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand. 'I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We've received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle.'</s> [INST]

They were talking as though they hardly knew each other and when Harry opened his mouth to say hello to Kingsley, Mr We ashy stood on his foot. They followed Kingsley along the row and into the very last cubicle. Harry received a slight shock; blinking down at him from every direction was Sirius's face. Newspaper cuttings and old photographs - even the one of Sirius being best man at the Potters' wedding - 'papered the walls. The only Sirius-free space was a map of the world in which little red pins were glowing like jewels. 'Here,' said Kingsley brusquely to Mr Weasley, shoving a sheaf of parchment into his hand. 'I need as much information as possible on flying Muggle vehicles sighted in the last twelve months. We've received information that Black might still be using his old motorcycle.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, 'Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting.' Then he said in normal tones, 'And don't take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month.'</s> [INST]

Kingsley tipped Harry an enormous wink and added, in a whisper, 'Give him the magazine, he might find it interesting.' Then he said in normal tones, 'And don't take too long, Weasley, the delay on that firelegs report held our investigation up for a month.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> 'If you had read my report you would know that the term is firearms,' said Mr Weasley coolly. 'And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles; we're extremely busy at the moment.' He dropped his voice and said, 'If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs.'</s> [INST]

'If you had read my report you would know that the term is firearms,' said Mr Weasley coolly. 'And I'm afraid you'll have to wait for information on motorcycles; we're extremely busy at the moment.' He dropped his voice and said, 'If you can get away before seven, Molly's making meatballs.'</s></s>

[INST] <Chapter 8> <s> He beckoned to Harry and led him out of Kingsley's cubicle, through a second set of oak doors, into another passage, turned left, marched along another corridor, turned right into a dimly lit and distinctly shabby corridor, and finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading: Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. Mr Weasley's dingy office seemed to be slightly smaller than the broom cupboard. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely space to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. The little wall space available bore witness to Mr Weasley's obsessions: several posters of cars, including one of a dismantled engine; two illustrations of postboxes he seemed to have cut out of Muggle children's books; and a diagram showing how to wire a plug. Sitting on top of Mr Weasley's overflowing in-tray was an old toaster that was hiccoughing in a disconsolate way and a pair of empty leather gloves that were twiddling their thumbs. A photograph of the Weasley family stood beside the in-tray. Harry noticed that Percy appeared to have walked out of it. '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, Harry, doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet.'</s> [INST]

He beckoned to Harry and led him out of Kingsley's cubicle, through a second set of oak doors, into another passage, turned left, marched along another corridor, turned right into a dimly lit and distinctly shabby corridor, and finally reached a dead end, where a door on the left stood ajar, revealing a broom cupboard, and a door on the right bore a tarnished brass plaque reading: Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. Mr Weasley's dingy office seemed to be slightly smaller than the broom cupboard. Two desks had been crammed inside it and there was barely space to move around them because of all the overflowing filing cabinets lining the walls, on top of which were tottering piles of files. The little wall space available bore witness to Mr Weasley's obsessions: several posters of cars, including one of a dismantled engine; two illustrations of postboxes he seemed to have cut out of Muggle children's books; and a diagram showing how to wire a plug. Sitting on top of Mr Weasley's overflowing in-tray was an old toaster that was hiccoughing in a disconsolate way and a pair of empty leather gloves that were twiddling their thumbs. A photograph of the Weasley family stood beside the in-tray. Harry noticed that Percy appeared to have walked out of it. '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, Harry, doesn't look as if Perkins is in yet.'</s></s>