Harry handed over his wand and watched as the guard examined it. After confirming the make of wand and the length of time it had been used for, the guard gave Harry his wand back before picking up his copy of The Daily Prophet again.
Evidently that was the end of the security check. Harry, however, wasn't done with the man.
"Excuse me," he said, trying to sound as polite as possible "but how do I get to the… um…" he suddenly realised that he didn't have a clue where he was meant to be going. He tried asking another way "I'm here for a hearing for underage magic use. Do you know where I'm meant to go?"
The guard didn't look up, but did give a reply "Go over to the golden gates and get into a lift. Get out on the second level, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ask someone there."
"Thanks." replied Harry, though he wasn't really sure exactly how helpful the man had been. On the plus side though, the man hadn't recognised him. The last thing Harry wanted at the moment was to be pointed out in the middle of this crowd. If they all stopped to gawk at him, or more specifically his scar, as wizards and witches not used to the sight of him usually did, he'd likely never get to the hearing.
Harry weaved his way through the jostling crowd and found his way into one of the lifts. Unlike buildings in the Muggle side of Britain, it turned out that the levels of the Ministry building didn't go from the ground floor up to the first floor and so on. Instead the floor numbers decreased with height. It turned out that the Atrium had been on level eight. With the floor he wanted being on level two, Harry had quite a wait but finally the lift doors opened and the female voice from the telephone box announced "Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services."
To Harry the name "Improper Use of Magic Office" sounded promising. He was obviously on the right level and got out of the lift.
Harry found himself on a corridor lined with many doors. Two people had gotten out of the lift with Harry and they promptly marched off down the corridor, leaving him behind. He moved more slowly, reading the little sign on every door, explaining what the room beyond was for. Finally he came to one marked "Improper Use of Magic Office" and tried to turn the handle. The door swung open and Harry tentatively stepped into the room beyond. Inside there were two lines of three desks, one line along each side wall, and another, larger desk in between but at the back. Hanging on the wall behind this desk was a massive map of the Great Britain and Ireland. At a guess, Harry supposed that the map somehow indicated where magic was being used inappropriately, either before Muggles or by an underage witch or wizard. Technically Harry was guilty of both, though it was to save both his life and that of the stupid fat tub of lard that he technically was supposed to call his cousin.
Only four of the desks were occupied, including the big one at the back, and everyone in the room looked up at his sudden intrusion into their work day.
"Um… hi?" said Harry. Getting no greeting in response, Harry continued "I got a letter about attending a hearing-"
He broke off as the eyes of the witch sitting at the big desk lit up in recognition "Oh, Mr Potter! Yes, we were expecting you, though not for another hour or so. I'm Mafalda Hopkirk, I'm the head of this little office. Why don't you take a seat at Summerby's desk, she's in Majorca for the month, and I'll go and let Madam Bones know that you're here."
As Madam Hopkirk bustled out of the room, Harry made his way over to the nearest empty desk; the front left one, and saw a plaque with Summerby's name on it. Trying to ignore the stares he was getting from the other people in the office, Harry sat down in the chair behind the desk. The desk was untidy; a clutter of parchment, some of which contained hastily written notes, the rest of which contained what appeared to be runes of some kind. Harry supposed that the runes had something to do with how this office tracked the improper use of magic. There was also a picture of a boy of about Harry's age. Harry recognised him as Eric Summerby, a student from Hufflepuff house who was in the year above Harry. It was a strange thing, last year Eric Summerby had been one of the students who had treated Harry with contempt after he was entered in the tri-wizard tournament, and now Harry was sitting at his mother's desk at the Ministry awaiting a trial for underage magic.
I really was a small world after all.