Harry Potter’s Book of Sin Chapter 640: Great good thing

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White walls, magenta desks, gilt lamps with dark green lampshades, and the beautiful marble fireplace opposite. You can see a tall mirror when you turn your face sideways from here. When you are not calm occasionally, you can use it to examine yourself objectively.

If you need a breath of fresh air, it’s even simpler-open the window next to it, and you can see the drizzle and cool sky, which is the most wonderful view of London.

If I have to say, there are a few sentimental oil paintings on the opposite and back walls, which are actually good.

Of course, the one in the corner must be omitted, because no one would want to see a bald guy staring at you with black eyes and teeth every day, don't you think?

This is No. 10 Downing Street, an old house full of stories.

"Dingling bell--"

A sudden ringing of the phone broke the room that had been silent once again. To be honest, it's not a good phone. The ringtone always has some rough noises, which makes it uncomfortable in the ears. But that's fine, I've been listening for so long, so I should get used to it.

The man sitting at the table sighed slightly, then grabbed the handset of the phone. He knew that even if he didn't answer, the bell would keep ringing, endlessly.

"Hello, please pay attention to a call around two o'clock in the afternoon. The policy team may convey the latest discussion results, and the press office will follow up at the same time. I will forward the call to you at that time."

"Okay, I see."

With a succinct and clear answer, the earpiece returned to its original place again.

Here, efficiency is always the top priority, and the guys below seem to need no rest in this life. But while this man was complaining secretly, he didn't remember that when he was still struggling for this chair in the past, how could it not be a virtue?

The man sighed heavily again, and then swiped all the papers on his side, and leaned back against the chair with his head, making a "crunch" sound.

He drooped his eyelids, took off the eyes from the bridge of his nose, and squeezed between them.

Just last year, too many things happened. Although those events were over, the remaining sequelae have not completely disappeared until now. These include multiple headless cases across the UK. Although there are no dead, the wounded and missing people actually exist, and there are even some unprovoked explosions and building collapses.

And these messy incidents, in the final analysis, will involve him. As long as he is still sitting in this seat, he is a catastrophe that cannot escape.

Perhaps many people have seen his scenery, but behind the scenery, there are more endless fatigue and hard work day and night.

Seriously, this man felt that he was indeed a little tired.

He leaned back in the chair half-lying and half-sitting, feeling the cool breeze coming in from the window. Right now it was raining outside, banging on the edge of the window, vaguely misty rain drifted over his forehead, just enough to cool the aching head.

There is still some time before two o'clock in the afternoon, let's take a break! The file can be viewed after the call. Anyway, I must work overtime to stay here tonight, there is no need to be busy now.

But just as he took a nap, trying to soothe his tired spirit, a voice suddenly rang.

"To the Muggle Prime Minister," without warning, the voice spread from the room, "Requested to meet at two in the afternoon, please reply immediately...you faithful, Rufus Scrimgeour."

Oh-yes! He knows, he knows the guy with the surname Scrimgeour! That's right, calling others with the strange name of "Muggle Prime Minister", since he took office, there have been only three in total, and this Scrimgeour is the only one that has appeared recently.

You don’t need to look at it to know that the oil painting in the corner behind is starting to move on its own again-what a hell!

Of course, he did not want to respond, not at all. Because he knows that every time that portrait starts to talk, every time the person asks to meet each other, the result will always be bad. But can he not speak? Trying to pretend to be asleep? No, even if he doesn't answer, the other party will come when the time is up, just from the **** fireplace opposite!

"Ah, uh..." He cleared his throat and said vaguely, "Two o'clock? No, I had an important call at that time... Yes, very important... It was from a president... …"

Please forgive God, there is really a need for a lie to increase the importance of things, so that maybe the guy can shut up-I hope!

Unfortunately, this lie is obviously meaningless to the person in the picture frame.

"It's okay, you can reschedule it," the portrait replied without any hesitation. "If it's not convenient for you, we can adjust it for you. Mr. President will forget to make this call... What do you think of tomorrow morning?"

This is definitely not what he wants to hear, but somehow, he just feels that there is no sense of disobedience to say these words from the other party, as if they were born to be like this-even if they are talking about a country The same is true for the President!

"No, no need...I will arrange it myself," the Prime Minister said dryly. "Ok...oh...I mean, yes, is it at two o'clock in the afternoon? I'll see Scrimgeour Sir."

Hearing the prime minister's positive reply, the portrait immediately stopped moving, and the whole office once again returned to its former tranquility.

The prime minister raised his neck and looked at the clock, then subconsciously glanced at the fireplace, and sighed for the third breath this afternoon.

"Click, click."

He pressed twice on the phone and dialed the secretary's internal number.

"I have important arrangements at two o'clock in the afternoon to postpone the policy team's call to three o'clock--no, three thirty! What...no, that matter is very important, you just need to notify me as I said. "

"Click."

After that, the receiver returned to where it should be, and the prime minister took the initiative to hang up.

When was the last time I met Scrimgeour, it is natural that the Prime Minister cannot forget.

It was an emergency meeting. The ugly little man in the portrait disappeared sometime, and was replaced by the black bald head now. It was a cold winter night, yes, just the last few days of a series of turbulent events.

Suddenly, a strong male voice rang in the office, startling the Prime Minister who was still working overtime. And at the moment he just agreed to meet, the green flames suddenly rose in the fireplace, and a straight-faced man walked out of it like the previous Fudge.

The man is Rufus Scrimgeour. According to himself, he is the guy who replaced Fudge as the new ruler of "that world"—well, maybe it's a similar position, who can figure it out? ?

As soon as he came, he not only told him a lot of bad news right away, but also frankly said that something worse would happen soon, so he was ready to deal with it urgently.

Fortunately, the established bad news cannot be erased, but his so-called "worse incident" seems to have not happened, which is a blessing in misfortune.

However, bad things are bad things after all, and never become good things. This time when he came here, I am afraid that he was going to tell him the cause of a bunch of scalp-numbing incidents... No, it seems that nothing major happened recently, right?

Just between the prime minister's hesitation, half an hour easily turned into the past. When he caught a glimpse of a large swath of green popping up in the corner of his eye, with a soft "bang", he quickly sat up straight.

Before he had time to raise his hand to a slightly skewed tie, the slightly thin figure immediately strode out of the green flames. I saw the other person raising his leg across the iron fence in front of the fireplace, patted the strange robe on his body casually, and walked straight to the desk.

To be honest, even if he has seen this scene several times, he still feels a horrified heartbeat every time he sees it. Of course, as the prime minister, he is not lacking in concentration, no matter how great the shock in his heart, the calmness on his face will not be lost...

Well, at best, there is a little stiffness! I'm serious!

"Prime Minister," Scrimgeour was still in his turmoil, and after walking quickly to the desk, he immediately stretched out his hand, still squeezing an awkward smile on his face, "afternoon Okay, I'm glad to see you again."

"Oh, um...Hello!" The Prime Minister shook hands with him in a hurry, and then moved to a chair at the table to make a request, "Is there somewhere...I need to help you? Is it?"

He really doesn't want to say this~IndoMTL.com~ but he also knows that the one who should come will always come. Instead of getting stomachache by the other party's unceremonious request, it's better to take the initiative to speak up.

"Yes... it's a long story." Scrimgeour simply sat down on the chair and took off his hat. "In the second half of this year, we will have a A world-class event happened—"

"What!"

The prime minister's pretentious face should not be stretched.

Originally, he was already mentally prepared to listen to troubles, but the word "world-class" still broke through his inner line of defense-world-class troubles? Is some terrible organization coming to bomb the Prime Minister's Office? Or is a big mushroom crashing to the ground, blooming with the spark of life?

"...Um? Oh... take it easy," Scrimgeour grinned, but Mr. Prime Minister looked like a sneer, "That big thing is actually a good thing! A great thing!"

"Boom!"

Before he said this, a flash of fire suddenly flashed in the distance, and our Prime Minister shuddered with fright.