Chapter 708 Russians

The Prime Minister straightened his tie and adjusted his facial expression to be as relaxed and composed as he wished, when suddenly a bright green flame burst from the empty grate under the marble fireplace. The prime minister tried his best to conceal the surprise and panic in his heart, and watched a big fat man appear in the middle of the flames, spinning like a spinning top. A few seconds later, the fat man stepped over the grate, a yellow-green bowler hat in his hand, stood on a fine antique rug, and brushed the ashes off the sleeve of his thin striped cloak.

"Heh...Prime Minister," said Cornelius Fudge, striding over and holding out a hand, "it's a pleasure to meet you again."

The Prime Minister did not want to answer this polite remark from the bottom of his heart, so he said nothing. He did not want to see Fudge at all, and the few previous appearances of Fudge, besides being particularly alarming, usually meant that some particularly bad news was about to be heard again. Besides, he looked at Fudge and felt that the person in front of him was not in a good condition, which was not a good sign.

"Just now he said that you can let me understand the cause of the hurricane in Lancashire." The Prime Minister pointed to the portrait on the wall.

"Oh, that's Urick Gump, our first minister." Fudge raised his hat at the portrait, "That wind is actually a hurricane formed by magic. Can you understand what's going on? "

"What's that?" The Prime Minister leaned forward, and he had a bad premonition in his heart.

Fudge took a deep breath and said, "Prime Minister, I am very sorry to tell you that he is back. The man who must not even be named is back."

It was this state of affairs that disliked Fudge's visits. After all, he is a dignified prime minister, and he doesn't want anyone to make him feel like a primary school student who doesn't understand anything. But that had been the case since his first meeting with Fudge on his first night as Prime Minister. He still clearly remembered the scene at that time, as if it happened just yesterday, and he knew that he would never forget the memory that made him feel humiliated and terrified until he died.

After the first meeting the Prime Minister ordered his private secretary to take down the portrait of the ugly little man who had announced Fudge's visit. But to his great dismay, the portrait could not be removed. Using several carpenters, a builder or two, an art historian, and the chancellor, they tried, without success, to pry it off the wall.

In the end the Prime Minister stopped trying and just hoped that the thing would remain still and silent for as long as he was in office. Occasionally, out of the corner of his eye, he was sure to catch a yawn or scratch his nose, and once or twice he even stepped out of the frame, leaving nothing but a dusty gray canvas. However, the Prime Minister trained himself not to look at the portrait too often, and whenever something strange like this happened, he always firmly told himself that his eyes had an illusion.

Later, the appearance of this guy let him know that it was not a dream, and it always brought him various troubles every time, such as Azka or something escaped from the prison, something that sounded like Hogwarts, There was also a boy named Harry Potter, the Prime Minister was so confused that he didn't know what he was talking about, and now, this guy came to tell himself that this trouble was caused by their world!

The Prime Minister then asked a little angrily: "Come back? You said he're back'...Is he still alive? What I mean is—he caused this hurricane?"

"There is no hurricane at all." Fudge said with some distress, "It wasn't caused by him, but it's about the same. It was done by his Death Eaters, the followers of the man who can't even mention his name."

"It's obviously your problem, but I was forced to answer such inexplicable questions as why the hurricane suddenly appeared out of nowhere, why it was so small in scope, and so powerful." The Prime Minister stood up angrily, and every step he took , the anger in my heart increased by one point. It was so infuriating that he discovered the cause of the hurricane and couldn't tell the public, and it would have been better if it was the government's fault.

"Ahem," Fudge cleared his throat, "Actually, you should be glad that the situation is much better than I expected. The Ministry of Magic has dispatched Aurors to successfully destroy many cases of Death Eaters attempting to destroy London landmarks." The plan of sexual construction, let them be captured before their attack succeeds, otherwise your life will be more difficult."

"As if this wasn't bad enough." The Prime Minister couldn't help but slander in his heart. He thought of the abnormal cold fog again, and then pointed to the mist by the window and asked, "They made that too?"

"Well, that's a dementor," Fudge replied.

"As I recall, dementors guard prisoners?" the Prime Minister asked cautiously.

"It used to be," said Fudge wearily. "It's not now. They left the prison for the man who can't even be named. It's a disaster, I must admit."

"But," said the Prime Minister, growing a sense of dread in him, "didn't you tell me that they are animals that suck out people's hopes and joys?"

"That's right. And they're still wandering around, so that's why these fogs are formed."

The Prime Minister's knees gave way and he sank into the chair closest to him. He felt himself fainting at the thought of these invisible beings flitting about cities and country, sowing gloom and desperation among his constituents.

"Listen to me, Fudge - you must do something! It's your duty as Minister for Magic!"

"My dear Prime Minister, I am here to tell you that I am no longer the Minister of Magic. I will introduce you to my successor in a moment. He and his successor should be here soon. ’” Fudge smiled reluctantly.

The Prime Minister was momentarily speechless. He resented that he had been put in such a position, and at the same time felt sympathy for the shriveled-looking man sitting across from him.

Fudge turned his head to look at the ugly little man in the portrait, wearing the long, curly silver wig, who was picking his ear with the tip of a quill pen, and seeing Fudge looking at him, the man in the portrait said: " Irving will be here soon, he has joined Alan Harris."

The prime minister looked at Fudge, who sat up straight unconsciously, thoughtfully. Although he hadn't seen the new minister of the wizard yet, it was obvious that the new minister had already made his predecessor very afraid. He must be someone not to be underestimated. , I don't know if it will be more difficult to contact than Fudge, he is faintly worried.

There was silence in the room for a while, until the man in the portrait broke the silence and spoke suddenly in a crisp official voice.

"To the Muggle Prime Minister. Request for an interview. It is urgent. Please answer immediately. Minister for Magic, Owen Harris."

"Okay, okay, okay." The Prime Minister secretly complained, as if he had the right to say no.

The flames in the grate turned emerald green again, and in the middle of the flames appeared two wizards whirling around. They turned around for a while and came to the antique carpet. Fudge stood up as soon as he saw the figure in the fire, and the Prime Minister hesitated, then stood up too, watching the two newcomers. Unlike Fudge who brushed off the ashes, the ashes disappeared when they straightened up.

"Hello." The Prime Minister successfully concealed his inner anxiety, and extended his hand to Owen.

"Hello, I'm Owen Harris, the new Minister of Magic. Fudge should have told you all, right?" Owen smiled kindly, stretched out his hand, looked into the other's eyes, and shook their hands together up and down few times.

"He said he would introduce you to me today." Looking at the smiling Owen Harris, the Prime Minister relaxed his worries a little. The wizard in front of him seemed much easier to get along with than Fudge.

"This is my son, Alan Harris." Owen introduced Alan beside him to the other party, and Alan also stretched out his hand and shook the other party gently.

"Nice to meet you, please sit down." The Prime Minister pointed to the other two chairs in front of the desk.

Owen nodded, and sat down with Fudge. Allen looked around the room, pointing his slender fingers at the door lock, and the Prime Minister heard the door lock click.

"Well—that's right," said the Prime Minister. "If you don't mind, I wish the door wasn't locked."

"Just to avoid being disturbed." Owen explained, "And you have to pay extra attention to safety now."

Stretching his back as straight as he could, the Prime Minister replied: "I'm satisfied with the security measures in place, thank you very much—"

"Actually, sir. If it weren't for your long eyes, you'd probably have been hit by the Imperius Curse long ago. In that case, Muggles would suffer." Allen interrupted him.

"Long eyes?" the Prime Minister asked inexplicably.

"The new secretary outside your office is Long Eye." Fudge explained from the side.

"You mean Christopher Lee, he belongs to you? I mean a wizard?!" The Prime Minister was a little unwilling to believe that he was very satisfied with this new multilingual secretary. His work efficiency was high, and the work he did was other things. three times as many people.

"Christopher Lee? Didn't we send Vladimir Podlovsky?" Owen asked Fudge suspiciously.

"It's him, but with a fake name." Fudge touched his nose and replied.

"My secretary is Russian?!" the Prime Minister exclaimed in shock.