Chapter 1039

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.

"There's nothing to worry about," he said. "You may never see me again. I'll only disturb you when something really serious happens to us, unless that kind of thing is enough to affect Muggles, non magic people, maybe. Or we'll be fine. And I have to admit that you can take it better than your predecessors. He wanted to throw me out of the window and thought I was sent by my opponent to fool him

At this time, the prime minister finally found that he could speak again.

"So, you - you're not fooling me?" He also wanted to fight to death.

"No," fudge said softly. "I'm afraid not. Look. " He turned the prime minister's teacup into a gerbil.

"But," said the prime minister, a little breathless, his tea cup biting at his next speech. "But why - why didn't anyone tell me?"

"The Minister of magic only shows his identity to the prime minister at that time," fudge put his wand back into his coat pocket. "We found this to be the best way to keep secrets."

"But," the prime minister whispered, "why didn't a former Prime Minister warn me -

Now fudge really laughed. "My dear prime minister, will you tell others?" Fudge threw some powder into the fireplace and, still giggling, went into the emerald green flame and disappeared with a whoop.

The Prime Minister stood there, knowing that he would not bring it up to any living man, for who in the world would believe him? The sense of shock was fading away. At one point, he was convinced that fudge was just an illusion. After a tense campaign, he lacked sleep. In vain, he tried to get rid of everything that would remind him of the incident. He gave the gerbil to his niece and asked the private secretary to take down the picture of the ugly man who announced Fudge's visit.

To his dismay, however, the portrait could not move at all. After a few carpenters, a builder or two, an art historian and the chancellor of the exchequer failed to get it off the wall, the prime minister finally gave up and hoped that the painting would not be moved for the rest of his term. But sometimes, he swore to catch a glimpse from the corner of his eye that the owner of the painting was yawning or scratching his nose; even, once or twice, he even walked out of his frame, leaving only a muddy canvas.

However, he trained himself not to pay much attention to the painting, and every time he saw these, he always firmly told himself that his eyes loved to make fun of him.

Three years ago, on a night exactly like tonight, the prime minister was alone in the office. The portrait suddenly announced that fudge was coming. Then fudge burst out of the fireplace, soaked to the skin and nervous.

Before the prime minister could ask why he wanted to make the carpet full of water, Fudge began to roar. He mentioned a prisoner the prime minister had never heard of, called black, who sounded like Hogwarts, and a boy named Harry Potter. None of them could be understood by the prime minister.

“…… I've just come back from Azkaban, "said Fudge, panting, pouring the water from the brim of his hat into his pocket. "In the middle of the North Sea, you know, disgusting travel Dementors are in a commotion - "he shivers" -- they never let anyone escape. Anyway, I'll tell you. Blake is a notorious Muggle killer and may be planning to return to the mystery man But of course, you don't even know who the mystery man isHe looked at the prime minister in despair and said, "well, sit down, sit down. I'd better tell you Have a whisky... "

The prime minister was angry at being told to sit down in his office, let alone take out his whisky, but he did. Fudge drew out his wand, made two large glasses filled with amber liquid out of the air, stuffed one of them to the prime minister, and took a chair of his own. Fudge said it for more than an hour.

Once fudge did not want to say a name out loud, so he wrote it on a piece of parchment and gave it to the hand of the prime minister who did not take the whisky. At last fudge stood up to go, and the Prime Minister stood up.

"So you think that..." He glanced at the name on his left hand, "Fu --"

"his name can't be mentioned!" Fudge growled in a low voice. "I'm sorry So, do you think the devil who can't even name is still alive? "

"Well, Dumbledore said he was alive," fudge said, tying his Pinstripe cloak under his chin, "but we never found him. If you ask me, I'll say he's not dangerous unless someone helps him, so we should be worried about black. You're going to issue that warning, right? right on. Well, I hope we don't have to meet again, Prime Minister! Good night. "

But they met again. A year later, a tired looking fudge appeared in the air of the cabinet room. He came to inform the prime minister that there was a little bit of trouble at the kuiditch (or at least it sounds) World Cup, and several Muggles were "involved", but don't worry, the reappearance of the mysterious man's mark was insignificant; fudge was sure that it was an isolated incident, and the Muggle Liaison Office would deal with it Memory modification.

"Oh, I almost forgot," fudge added. "We imported three foreign dragons and a sphinx to prepare for the final three, which is very common, but the magic animal management and control department told me that if we want to bring very dangerous creatures to this country, we must inform you."

"I - what - dragon?" The prime minister asked incoherently.

"Yes, three," said Fudge. "And a Sphinx. Well, have a good time

The prime minister is a bit desperate to hope that dragon and Sphinx are the worst, but not. Less than two years later, Fudge came out of the fire again, bringing news of a massive prison break in Azkaban.

"Mass escape?" Repeated the prime minister hoarsely. "Don't worry, don't worry!" Cried fudge, one foot in the fire. "We've launched a round up immediately - just think you should know!"

The prime minister didn't have time to shout, "wait a minute!" Fudge had disappeared in a burst of green sparks. Whatever the news and the opposition say, the prime minister is not a fool. Although Fudge had promised him at the first meeting, now that they knew each other better, he did not fail to notice that fudge became more flustered every time he visited. Although he didn't want to think about the Minister of magic (or, as he usually calls him in his head, another minister), the prime minister could not help worrying that Fudge's next appearance would bring more gloomy news.

So the sight of fudge coming out of the fireplace, looking dishevelled and fretful, and harshly surprised that the prime minister didn't know why he was visiting, was the worst thing that happened in this dark week.

"How should I know - er - what's going on in wizarding society?" The prime minister exclaimed. "I have a country to manage, and there are a lot of things to focus on right now, except for those of you -"

"we have common concerns," fudge interrupted. "Brodale bridge didn't collapse. There are no real hurricanes. Those murders are not Muggles. And Herbert jolly might be safer if he stayed away from his family. We are now arranging to transfer him to St. Mungo's Hospital for magic and injuries. This transfer is going to be completed tonight. "

"You're saying - I'm afraid - what?" The prime minister growled.

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