Chapter 1039 (1/2)

It was almost midnight, and the prime minister sat alone in his office looking at a long memo, but he didn't read it at all. He was waiting for the president of a distant country to call him, wondering when the poor man would be able to call, and trying not to recall the unpleasant memories of a long, hard and difficult week, and he was running out of room for anything else.

The more he wanted to focus on the documents in front of him, the more visible was the contented face of his political opponent. Today, this particular opponent is still on the news, listing the terrible events of the week (as if everyone needs to be reminded) and explaining why all those things are the fault of the government. The prime minister's heart beat faster at the thought of these accusations, because they are neither fair nor true.

Why should his government stop the bridge from breaking? Any accusation that they didn't spend enough money on the bridge was outrageous. The bridge was built less than 10 years ago, and even the best experts were puzzled why it simply folded into two sections and let a dozen cars fall into the river.

And who can blame the two brutal murders that were severely exposed because of insufficient police? Or should they blame the government for failing to predict the freak hurricane that caused heavy casualties in the southwest? Is it also his fault that one of his second ministers, Herbert jolly, was forced to go home because of his strange behavior this week?

”Our country is shrouded in a gloomy mood,” his political opponents made no secret of their naked derision. Unfortunately, what he said was not wrong. Even the prime minister can feel that.

People do look much more miserable than they used to be. Even the weather became overcast; in the middle of July, a cold fog came up It's not right, it's not normal He turned over the second page of the memo to see how long it was, and finally gave it up as if it were a trouble.

He stretched and looked around the office sadly. It was a gorgeous office, with a fireplace made of fine marble facing the push-pull windows, keeping the unseasonably cold out. Shivering, the Prime Minister got up and went to the window. Only a thin mist was pressing against the window glass. As he stood with his back to the room, a slight cough came from behind him.

In his face, his fear was reflected in the glass. He recognized the cough. I've heard that before. He turned very slowly and faced the empty room.

”Hello?” He tried to make his voice sound braver than himself. After a while, he was ready to believe that no one would respond to him. But a crisp, resolute voice suddenly came out, like reading a prepared statement. The sound - as the prime minister expected when he heard the first cough - came from a small, dirty oil painting in the corner of the room, with a little man like a frog in a silver wig.

”To Prime Minister Muggle. We need an urgent meeting. Reply quickly. Good luck The man in the portrait looks at the prime minister inquisitively.

”Well,” said the prime minister, ”listen I don't have time right now I'm waiting for a call. You know From the president - ”

” that can be rearranged, ”the portrait said immediately. This is what the prime minister is afraid of.

”But I really hope that with -”

”we will arrange for the president to forget the phone appointment tonight. He'll call back tomorrow night, ”said the little man. ”Please reply to Mr. fudge as soon as possible.”

”I Oh All right, ”said the prime minister weakly. ”Good, I'll see fudge.”

He trod back to his desk, straightening his tie as he walked. As soon as he could get back to his seat and put on an artificial relaxed expression, there was a bright green flame under his marble mantel. He looked there, trying not to show any surprise or panic, when a fat man appeared in the fire of the fireplace, spinning like a top. A few seconds later, he crawled out on a fine antique mat and dusted the sleeves of his pinstriped cloak with a greyish green bowler hat in his hand.

”Ah Your honor, ”said Cornell fudge, strode up to the prime minister and held out his hand. ”Nice to see you again.”

The prime minister couldn't return the greeting sincerely, so he didn't say anything. He was not at all pleased to see fudge, whose occasional visit, not to mention a complete alarm, usually meant that he was about to hear some very bad news. What's more, Fudge seems to be suffering from anxiety. He became thinner, had less hair, was grayer and wrinkled.

The prime minister has seen this in politicians before, and it has never been a good omen.

”Is there anything I can do?” The prime minister said he simply shook Fudge's hand and pointed to the hardest chair in front of the table.

”I don't know where to start,” muttered fudge, pulling out his chair and putting his green top hat on his knees. ”What a bad week, what a bad week...”

”Have you had a bad week, too?” The prime minister asked stiffly, hoping to make fudge understand that it was enough for him not to count fudge.”Yes, of course,” fudge rubbed his tired eyes and looked glumly at the prime minister. It's been a week as bad as you, Prime Minister. Brodale bridge The murder of burns and Vance Not to mention the turmoil in the southwest... ”

”You - er - I mean, some of you are also - involved in these - these things, aren't you?” Fudge gave the prime minister a stern look.

”Of course,” he said. ”You know what happened?”

”I...” The prime minister hesitated.

It is this kind of behavior that disgusts the first relative to fudge every time he visits. After all, he is the prime minister and does not want to be regarded as an ignorant student. But that has happened since his first meeting with fudge when he was Prime Minister.

It was as if it had been yesterday, and he remembered it, and was sure it would haunt him until the day of his death. At that time, he stood alone in this office, tasting the victory he had won after so many years of dreams and plans. At that time, he heard a cough behind him. Just like tonight, he turned to find the ugly man in the portrait talking to him and announced that the Minister of magic was ready to meet him.

Naturally, he thought that the long campaign and intense election had made his mind a little confused. He was terrified to find a portrait talking to him, though it was not as crazy as the next wizard to come out of the fireplace and shake hands with him.

In the process of fudge explaining to him that there are hidden witches everywhere in the world, he has been speechless. Fudge comforts him that the Ministry of magic will be responsible for the whole wizard society and will not let the non magic people find them, which does not need him to worry about. He added: 'it's not easy to manage, from standardizing responsibility for the use of broomsticks to keeping the number of dragons under control (the prime minister remembers that he had to hold on to the table to support himself), covering everything.

Finally, Fudge patted the dull prime minister on the shoulder.