Read Harry Potter online, free Goblet
Read Harry Potter online, free
Read Harry Potter online, free
Read Harry Potter online, free Book 5

Read Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows Online Read Free Novel - Read Light Novel,onlinereadfreenovel.com.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter #6) is a Young Adult,Science Fiction novel by J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Harry Potter #6) Page 1 - Read Novels Online. Harry Potter and the Chamber of SecretsRead online books from your Mobile or PC. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets The book is wrote by J. Rowling Free online books for you to read. Harry Potter and the Chamber of SecretsRead online books from your Mobile or PC. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets The book is wrote by J. Rowling Free online books for you to read. Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.

It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring, and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his political opponents. This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding) but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault.

The Prime Minister's pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations, for they were neither fair nor true. How on earth was his government supposed to have stopped that bridge collapsing? It was outrageous for anybody to suggest that they were not spending enough on bridges. The bridge was fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had snapped cleanly in two, sending a dozen cars into the watery depths of the river below. And how dare anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and well-publicized murders? Or that the government should have somehow foreseen the freak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much damage to both people and property? And was it his fault that one of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley, had chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spending a lot more time with his family?

'A grim mood has gripped the country,' the opponent had concluded, barely concealing his own broad grin.

And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime Minister felt it himself; people really did seem more miserable than usual. Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly mist in the middle of July.. it wasn't right, it wasn't normal..

He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how much longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretching his arms above his head he looked around his office mournfully. It was a handsome room, with a fine marble fireplace facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the unseasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved over to the window, looking out at the thin mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, as he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft cough behind him.

He froze, nose to nose with his own scared-looking reflection in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it before. He turned very slowly to face the empty room.

'Hello?' he said, trying to sound braver than he felt.

For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as though it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming--as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough-- from the froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small, dirty oil painting in the far corner of the room.

'To the Prime Minister of Muggles. Urgent we meet. Kindly respond immediately. Dragon age rpg. Sincerely, Fudge.'

The man in the painting looked inquiringly at the Prime Minister.

'Er,' said the Prime Minister, 'listen.. it's not a very good time for me.. I'm waiting for a telephone call, you see.. from the president of--'

'That can be rearranged,' said the portrait at once. The Prime Minister's heart sank. He had been afraid of that.

'But I really was rather hoping to speak--'

'We shall arrange for the president to forget to call. He will telephone tomorrow night instead,' said the little man. 'Kindly respond immediately to Mr. Fudge.'

'I.. oh.. very well,' said the Prime Minister weakly. 'Yes, I'll see Fudge.'

He hurried back to his desk, straightening his tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece. He watched, trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed out onto a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pin-striped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand.

'Ah.. Prime Minister,' said Cornelius Fudge, striding forward with his hand outstretched. 'Good to see you again.'

The Prime Minister could not honestly return this compliment, so said nothing at all. He was not remotely pleased to see Fudge, whose occasional appearances, apart from being downright alarming in themselves, generally meant that he was about to hear some very bad news. Furthermore, Fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, balder, and grayer, and his face had a crumpled look. The Prime Minister had seen that kind of look in politicians before, and it never boded well.

'How can I help you?' he said, shaking Fudge's hand very briefly and gesturing toward the hardest of the chairs in front of the desk.

Read Harry Potter online, free Goblet

'Difficult to know where to begin,' muttered Fudge, pulling up the chair, sitting down, and placing his green bowler upon his knees. 'What a week, what a week..'

'Had a bad one too, have you?' asked the Prime Minister stiffly, hoping to convey by this that he had quite enough on his plate already without any extra helpings from Fudge.

'Yes, of course,' said Fudge, rubbing his eyes wearily and looking morosely at the Prime Minister. 'I've been having the same week you have, Prime Minister. The Brockdale Bridge.. the Bones and Vance murders.. not to mention the ruckus in the West Country..'

'You--er--your--I mean to say, some of your people were--were involved in those--those things, were they?'

Fudge fixed the Prime Minister with a rather stern look.

Smoke and mirrors are words and actions that are intended to deceive or confuse people, especially by making something seem better than it really is. The president claims that his economic plan is free of the smoke and mirrors of previous presidential budget proposals. Smoke mirrors sunglasses. Definition of smoke and mirrors: something intended to disguise or draw attention away from an often embarrassing or unpleasant issue —usually hyphenated when used attributively Examples of smoke and mirrors in a Sentence Recent Examples on the Web Unfortunately, that’s more carrier smoke and mirrors.

'Of course they were,' he said, 'Surely you've realized what's going on?'

'I..' hesitated the Prime Minister.

It was precisely this sort of behavior that made him dislike Fudge's visits so much. He was, after all, the Prime Minister and did not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy. But of course, it had been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first evening as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day.

He had been standing alone in this very office, savoring the triumph that was his after so many years of dreaming and scheming, when he had heard a cough behind him, just like

Read Harry Potter Online