Dudley was counting off the days to his return to Hogwarts when an owl arrived from Arthur Weasley.

To Dudley,

I hope you are well? Lucius Malfoy's trial will take place in two days. If you are able to be present and give evidence, it will go a long way towards a conviction. Let me know

Regards

Arthur Weasley

Dudley quickly sent an owl back saying he would attend the trial. He hated Lucius Malfoy for what he had done. In fact he would have hated Malfoy anyway for his beliefs. He also hated him for giving birth to Draco, who was Dudley's least favorite person in the world.

So, a few days later, Arthur Weasley pulled up in his old blue Ford outside Privet Drive.

"Where are going?" Dudley asked as he got inside.

"Ministry of Magic—it's in London," Arthur said. "Usually I use the Floo Network, but I couldn't get permission to temporarily add your home to the network—because of Black you see, use of the network is restricted."

"No luck finding him?"

"None," Arthur said, causing an oncoming car to honk its horn wildly as he swerved into ongoing traffic. "The aurors are all out looking of course, say, Dud, you woulnd't mind if we sped things up? Only, don't tell Molly."

"Of course," Dudley said, wondering what Arthur was going to do.

"I installed this ages ago—only keep it under your hat, it's not exactly legal ..."

He pressed a button and nothing happened.

"Invisibility," Arthur explained. "No, nobody outside can see us."

"Cool,"

Arthur pressed another button and Dudley gasped as the car lifted clumsily into the air.

"Wow! This is brilliant!" Dudley said, pressing his face to the glass.

Arthur looked pleased. "Remember, don't tell Molly—she'd go spare if she knew I was using it. It isn't strictly legal.

Dudley watched the world go by underneath the car as they flew over England towards London. It seemed like little time at all had passed when the car started to descend and they pulled up in a nondescript street that contained several rather shabby-looking offices, a pub and an overflowing skip.

"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, Dudley."

He opened the telephone-box door.

Dudley stepped inside, wondering what on earth this was about. folded himself in beside Dudley and closed the door. It was a tight fit; Dudley was jammed against the telephone apparatus, which was hanging crookedly from the wall as though a vandal had tried to rip it off.

reached past Dudley for the receiver.

Mr. Weasley, held 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..."

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."

"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 Dudley Dursley, who is giving evidence at Lucius Malfoy's trial,"

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

There was a click and a rattle, and Dudley saw something slide out of the metal chute where returned coins usually appeared. He picked it up: it was a square silver badge with Dudley Dursley, Witness 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"

The floor of the telephone box shuddered. They were sinking slowly into the ground.

Dudley watched 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 Dudley, 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 Dudley, 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 looking adoringly up at the witch and wizard. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of the two wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, 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 of whom were wearing glum, early-morning looks, strode towards a set of golden gates at the far end of the hall.

"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 Dudley saw silver Sickles and bronze Knuts glinting up at him from the bottom of the pool. A small smudged sign beside it read:

All proceeds from the fountain of magical brethren will be given to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

"Over here, Dudley," 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 Dudley.

"Step over here," said the wizard in a bored voice.

Dudley 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 Dudley's front and back.

'Wand,' grunted the security wizard at Dudley, putting down the golden instrument and holding out his hand.

Dudley 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.

'Twelve inches, troll whisker core, been in use two years. That correct?'

'Yeah," said Dudley

"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 Dudley.

"Great interview by the way," the wizard said. "In the Prophet—be good to see Malfoy get what's coming to him."

Dudley grinned as Arthur led him away.

Jostled slightly by the crowd, Dudley followed Mr. Weasley through the gates into the smaller hall beyond, where at least twenty lifts stood behind wrought golden grilles. Dudley and Mr. Weasley joined the crowd around one of them. Nearby, stood a big bearded wizard holding a goat on a lead that was gibbering at him.

"You're a big, strong man aren't you," the goat said, in a husky voice to Dudley.

Dudley looked at it in shock."

"All right, Arthur?" said the wizard, nodding at Mr. Weasley.

"What've you got there, Bob?" asked Mr. Weasley, looking at the goat.

"Confiscated it from Aberforth again," Bob said and Arthur sighed. It seemed Aberforth was known for this sort of thing.

"I'm hoping we can get him off with a caution."

With a great jangling and clattering a lift descended in front of them; the golden grille slid back. Dudley moved to get on. But Mr. Weasley held him back.

"We're going down," said Arthur.

A few minutes later, another lift arrived. This one only had one pale-skinned wizard inside.

"Ah, Arthur, don't see you going down often," the wizard said.

"We're here for Malfoy's trial, Bode," said Arthur.

"Ah, of course," Bode said, his gaze lingering on Dudley for a few minutes.

"'Department of Mysteries,' said the cool female voice, and left it at that.

"Quick, Dudley,"s aid Mr. Weasley as the lift doors rattled open, and they sped up a corridor that was quite different from those above. The walls were bare; there were no windows and no doors apart from a plain black one set at the very end of the corridor.

"We don't use this courtroom often—the lift doesn't even come down this far."

Arthur led the way to a doorway.

"The trial will begin soon," he said, hearing voices from inside. "I have to go inside, you wait here until your name is called."

Arthur rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a couple of comic books. "I bought these for you to read. They're Rons."

They were called The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle

Just as Arthur entered the courtroom, leaving Dudley alone, a voice spoke suddenly, making him jump.

"Is it Duddy Durzy?"

Dudley looked around. He hadn't noticed the small, hunched, bat-eared figure sitting in the corner.

"Dobby?"

"Duddy Durzy remembers!"

"Of course, what are you doing here?"

"Dobby is here to give evidence. Dobby is going to put old, bad master behind bars. Lucius Malfoy is a very wicked wizard."

He gave a squeal and darted towards the wall, bashing his head against it.

"Bad Dobby!"

Dudley leapt off the bench to stop him.

"Thank you, Duddy Durzy. Dobby sometimes forgets he is free to insult old master now." He sat down again.

"Duddy Durzy defeated Slytherin's monster. Duddy Durzy helped Dobby be a free elf," Dobby said, gazing at him.

"Yeah, well, I think it was more Hermione," Dudley admitted. "Well, I beat Slytherin's monster—but it was her who did that sock thing."

"Duddy Durzy is so noble. Giving credit to his friends."

Dudley grinned, enjoying the praise.

"So what is Dobby ... I mean, what are you doing now?"

Dobby looked sad. "Dobby can't find work. Nobody wants a house elf that wants to be paid."

"Why?"

"House elves is not getting paid. House elves work for the love of work. But Dobby wants paying."

"How much do you want?"

"One Galleon a week plus one day off a month,"

"Well, that isn't much at all!" Dudley said. "I'll pay that. It might be useful to have a house elf, though ... I dunno if mum would let you live with us."

To his surprise, Dobby burst into tears. "Dobby knew Duddy Durzy was a brave wizard for beating Slytherin's monster, but Dobby didn't know he was kind too!"

It took a few minutes for Dobby to calm down. "Does Duddy Durzy mean it? Can Dobby work for Duddy Durzy?"

"Yeah," said Dudley.

"And Duddy Durzy will pay Dobby ..."

"One galleon a week, plus one day off a month," Dudley promised.

"It's a deal," Dobby said. "Dobby now works for Duddy Durzy,"

"Cool," Dudley said, pleased. "But I need to think of somewhere you can go ... Hogwarts maybe. No way would mum let you stay at Privet Drive. Or, maybe with the Weasleys ..."

Before they could talk more, a teenage witch with a pimply face appeared at the doorway. "Dobby the Elf—it is time,"

"Time for Dobby to put bad master behind bars," Dobby said, sounding gleeful. "Dobby has new master."

"Be sure to tell them everything," Dudley called.

"Dobby will obey!"