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?"
"Yes, if it really is a second," said Mr Weasley, "I'm in rather a hurry."
They were talking as though they hardly knew each other and when Harry opened his
mouth to say hello to Kingsley, Mr Weasley 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."
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."
"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."
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