HP and the DA: The Ministry of Tragic
Chapter 3
The Ministry of Tragic
Nearly a week had past since Harry got the letter from the Black bead strange arts school inviting him for a triple degree on dark arts. Was he really going to apparate in front of the school when he got up from sleep. He would not have alleged it at the first letter but after the incident on the letter by Hermione he had to. What if he really disappeared in to the unknown world, would he forced to study dark arts as the letter as said, and if yes how long would it be? As if they knew Harry Potter then they would certainly know Dumbledore, if it was a institute like the ministry trying to force him into the dark arts then they would have certainly thought about it, and they would definitely foresee what would keep Dumbledore away from noticing the absence of Harry and then ..leave it on Dumbledore. Harry felt a relief when he thought Dumbledore would know it somehow or if luck granted he would know if before it carried on for long. Still he had a fear of what was coming as if he could foresee it. He spent most of the time trying to work out a solution as he could not write anyone mentioning the school.
While the thoughts were gyrating in Harry’s mind some thing more important was going on. The window of Harry’s room remained closed most of the time as it was watched frequently by Dudley and the brainless blessed herd. They spent much of the time together then the normal routine. They had never been this together even when they had the season of Dudley’s favorite sport: Harry-hunting.
The next day when Harry awaked from half sleep he had an idea, he jumped out of his bed, grabbed a quill and two parchments, placed it on the table wrote:
Sirius,
there’s something going on wrong and I cannot mention it on the letter, we have to talk face to face or maybe it would keep you out of trouble if you sent Dumbledore to see me personally, I will write to him too but in case the letter does not reach him you can try out some other way to contact him. It is urgent and consider it the matter of great importance, please do respond with in a week.
Harry.
“He is writing something?” came a voice similar to the one that shouted ‘black letter’ last time. Harry opened the window, the saw the same old rubbish going on, one on top of the tree with no binoculars, but this time with a wireless device in his hand.
“He opened the window Duds” the one on the tree replied on the device.
“Whom do you call Duds you idiot anti-gravi Gordon” a voice shouted from back of the room that Harry was shocked for a moment, THUD, before Harry could turn and to the fortune of the blessings by god he saw Gordon who had the device near his ears falling and banging the innocent ground. With just one sight after turning he saw Dudley running away from the door and moving downstairs with heavy steps and cry of victory. Harry looked at the table, the letter was gone! Harry took off before he could stop for a breath he was downstairs, he stooped dead or rather banged into uncle Vernon’s elephant belly.
“NEVER TORTURE MY SON” he said.
“What?” was all Harry could say, Dudley was crying nowhere was the parchment to be seen, instead was a paper airplane!
“My little Duds” aunt Petunia said patting Dudley “Still a little brain like child, why paper planes? And you! You little unworthy child you could not let him take his airplane. From now keep your windows close and you Duds play with remote controlled planes for a little maturity.”
“NO! YOU will stay in your old place the cupboard! NO GOING OUT! NOT EVEN KITCHEN” uncle Vernon shouted with a fat tomato face.
“YOU will stay there for two weeks, UNDERSTAND!”
He pushed Harry and closed the cupboard door on him with the rain of dust and spiders.
Harry just stood at the door, silent, dead and shocked, two weak! It would be all over.
“No, you cannot do it, I did not get the plane, he’s lying, I have to get out, you don’t understand, its importa-“
“SHUT UP!” a large bang send some more spiders and dust on him.
He knew it was all over he could do nothing. He turned back to welcome his old friends, the wall and the spiders but to his surprise it was old no more! It was painted, stuck all over with notes and names.
The Ministry of Tragic
The other read
Members:
Piers
Dennis
Malcolm
Gordon (the tragedies themselves!)
The third:
Head: Dudley the boss of …
A good head of the headless. But Harry could not laugh.
Did they know about the ministry of magic or was it just a conjecture. He saw something else, a device like the one Gordon had. He took it near to his already deaf ears.
“It’s done! And don’t laugh you anti-gravi. So the ministry of tragic finishes its first Harry-rid plan. Now we will meet tomorrow at the park. And Malcolm get rid of the playing lads before I reach there. And show me the report on the every day strange tragedies, expect that caused by your selves and-”
“Boss I forgot my wireless in the head quarters, I am reporting from other-”
“Stop the conversation now you fool and meet me outdoor code place 11”
Over. It was all over, the fools had landed him to the last of miseries without knowing any fragment of the situation. Harry punched the wall frightening the little variety of creatures. He swore to kill all if he met them again….
Days passed without any improvement in the conditions or success to write to Sirius or Dumbledore.
One morning he waked half frightened from a dreadful dream.
It was the morning of the last day to the Black bead school of strange arts.
……