Chapter 3
An Unexpected Twist


Mr. Weasely kept a close eye on Harry during the drive toward his mysterious haven. Harry was beginning to get angry again. Everytime he looked up, he caught Ron's dad staring at him.

"Are they going to expel me for using magic?" he wondered. It didn't seem likely. He couldn't see anyone thinking of Azkaban as a "safe place," which was where he felt he'd certainly go if in trouble. "Er....Mr. Weasely," started Harry, "where are we going?" "I'm taking you to the Minsitry." said Mr. Weasely promptly. "I'm sorry Harry, but they saw what happened at your house today and they want to ask some questions." Harry suddenly found it very hard to breathe. "They're going to send you to Azkaban, they're going to send you to Azkaban..." his mind silently chanted.

"Couldn't we go to Hogwarts instead?" said Harry hopefully. "I wouldn't mind it if Professor Dumbledore asked me some things, but Fudge...." he shivered in distaste. Last year, he had seen the full extent of Fudge's narrow-mindedness. He wouldn't even acknowledge Voldemort's return, and had instead questioned Harry's integrity. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said again. "But the Minister of Magic is my boss, you'll have to see him." Seeing Harry squirm, he added, "It'll only take a few weeks."

Harry gave up and closed his eyes. He might as well fall asleep, he reasoned, and dream about his beloved Hogwarts. It was obvious that he wouldn't be seeing it again for quite some time. He concentrated on the winding passageways, the hidden doors, The Fat Lady, the Gryffindor common room.... and suddenly, he was there. Harry opened his eyes, and was surprised to find, instead of the soft velvety seats of the Ministry car, the gargoyle statue that guarded Dumbledore's office.

"Hello?" Harry called out, feeling foolish. He was convinced this was a dream, but so realistic! "Might as well go with it," Harry thought. Harry racked his brain for a password. "Lemon drops? cockroach clusters? Hmmm...." Harry stared into the stone statue's blank eyes, and, without a thought, shouted "Hoggleleetz!" The gargoyle complied and revealed the entrance to the office. Harry blinked. It had worked? This really HAD to be a dream, as he had never heard the word hoggleleeze, hoggleblah... hoggle whatever before.

"Who's there?" shouted Dumbledore as Harry's footsteps echoed through the hallway. "Just me, Sir." said Harry rather timidly. Even in a dream, Dumbledore could still make him shake when the twinkle left his eyes. "Ha...Harry?" said Dumbledore in disbelief. "How did you get here? I just got an owl saying that you were on your way to the Ministry!" "Well, er, I don't particularly know myself, Sir," said Harry. Dumbledore grabbed his arm and ushered him into his office.

"Isn't this a dream?" asked a thoroughly shaken Harry. He was beginning to doubt it. Dumbledore's hand on his arm had felt real enough. "No, Harry. Is that what you think this is? I'm afraid I'm going to have to question you."

No punishment? No nothing? Harry sighed in relief and began to babble out his story, beginning with Ron's letter, and ending with his mysterious knowledge of the password. "It seems to me," said Dumbledore, "that Mr. Weasely must be out of his mind. To have been in charge of looking out for you, and to have you disappear before his eyes! Now, I want you to
concentrate on the Ministry car, of the exact moment after you decided to dream of Hogwarts." At Harry's confused stare, Dumbledore smiled gently and said, "It will all be explained soon. I promise."

Obediently,Harry closed his eyes and thought of the velvet and leather, the exhaust fumes, Mr. Weasely...and he found himself back in the Ministry car, listening to Mr. Weasely say, "Cheer up Harry. We owled Dumbledore a few minutes ago. You'll see him at the Ministry."



Chapter Four
The Gorenth Test


The car sped along the winding streets. They passed Diagon Alley, and various other streets and passageways. Harry craned his neck, intent on taking in all the delights of the Underground in one sitting. Mr. Weasely smiled at the sight Harry made. He was literally plastered to the tinted glass, and nothing short of a chisel could have pried him away. What Harry saw took his breath away.

The streets were filled with robed figures. The stores glowed with magical brilliance, and Harry found more than one unrecognizable object. "What's that orb going about the streets?" asked Harry. He had seen a crystal ball, about five inches in diameter, floated about the crowd. "Oh," said Mr. Weasely carelessly. "That's a scout. That's how the Ministry keeps an eye on the wizards and witches." Mr. Weasely seemed preoccupied with something else, so Harry soon gave up trying to worm any information out of him.

The car began to slow down, and Harry's eyes widened in awe. The building they were pulling up to was enormous. The walls were a gleaming, anesthetic white, and the wrought iron fences had the words "Ministry of Magic" curled into them. There was a scout positioned atop every point of the fence, and a bewitched water fountain spewed forth scented water and rose petals. "Come along Harry." said Mr. Weasely. Harry looked down at himself and sighed. he had his muggle clothes on, and his bags and other things were still in the car. Seeing Mr. Weasely's retreating back, he quickly ran after him, abandoning the hope of changing and making a better impression on the Ministry workers.

The doors opened up before them and revealed a mass of winding corridors. "Follow me closely," said Mr. Weasely. Harry did. Right, left, left, left, right.... Mr. Weasely seemed to know exactly where he was going, but each door they passed through seemed the same as the last. All Harry could discern was that they were going downwards, probably through a mass of tunnels.

At last, out of nowhere, they came to the shabbiest door of all. Harry stared at it in distaste. The paint was chipped, and there were cobwebs lining the doorknob. "This it it." Shrugging, Harry moved to turn the knob, but Mr. Weasely stopped him. "Harry," he said in a strangled voice. Harry looked up. He was surprised by Mr. Weasely's pale, taunt face. "Whatever you do, whatever happens, be on guard. Understand? Don't take anything for granted!" With those words of warning Mr. Weasely gently pushed him through the door, and locked it behind him.

Harry was scared. He was all alone in a totally dark room. Maybe this was a test? If so, he'd need a light to see. He smiled. Maybe this wasn't going to be so hard afterall. He was a wizard! Reaching into his pocket, his hand slowly froze in terror. He had left his wand in his bag.

"Well, I can't just sit here and snivel," thought Harry to himself. Cautiously he felt for the wall, and made a startling discovery. There wasn't any wall. Slowly, he turned around, groping for the door he had just passed through. There wasn't any door. He could feel nothing but a cool breeze of stale air wafting about his reaching fingers. Bewildered, he felt the floor and was inordinately happy to feel, finally, something solid against his hand. Guessing from the texture of the floor, it was stone, rough and unpolished. Going on hands and knees, he began his journey through whatever space he was in.


Dumbledore was in a panic. He had arrived a few minutes after Harry, and and found Mr. Weasely all alone, a look of pain on his face. "What has happened?" Dumbledore yelled. Mr. Weasely looked up. "I'm so sorry Albus," he whispered. "But there was nothing I could do. Fudge has ordered it. He's ordered that the Gorenth Test be performed on Harry." "The Gorenth Test.... but he knows nothing! He's been through no training!" shouted Dumbledore. "Doesn't Fudge realize he's sent Harry to his death?" "Surely the test isn't that harsh," protested Weasely. "Oh, but it is," said Dumbledore grimly. "Not many know of it, but only two people in a millennia have ever gotten through it and lived. Me.... and Voldemort."