Гарри Поттер и Принц-полукровка
The Other Minister
Secondslater,hehadclimbedoutontoaratherfineantiquerug,brushingashfromthesleevesofhislongpin-stripedcloak,alime-greenbowlerhatinhishand.
"Ah...PrimeMinister,"saidCorneliusFudge,stridingforwardwithhishandoutstretched."Goodtoseeyouagain."
ThePrimeMinistercouldnothonestlyreturnthiscompliment,sosaidnothingatall.HewasnotremotelypleasedtoseeFudge,whoseoccasionalappearances,apartfrombeingdownrightalarminginthemselves,generallymeantthathewasabouttohearsomeverybadnews.Furthermore,Fudgewaslookingdistinctlycareworn.Hewasthinner,balder,andgrayer,andhisfacehadacrumpledlook.ThePrimeMinisterhadseenthatkindoflookinpoliticiansbefore,anditneverbodedwell.
"HowcanIhelpyou?"hesaid,shakingFudge’shandverybrieflyandgesturingtowardthehardestofthechairsinfrontofthedesk.
"Difficulttoknowwheretobegin,"mutteredFudge,pullingupthechair,sittingdown,andplacinghisgreenbowleruponhisknees."Whataweek,whataweek..."
"Hadabadonetoo,haveyou?"askedthePrimeMinisterstiffly,hopingtoconveybythisthathehadquiteenoughonhisplatealreadywithoutanyextrahelpingsfromFudge.
"Yes,ofcourse,"saidFudge,rubbinghiseyeswearilyandlookingmoroselyatthePrimeMinister."I’vebeenhavingthesameweekyouhave,PrimeMinister.TheBrockdaleBridge...theBonesandVancemurders...nottomentiontheruckusintheWestCountry..."
