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- Гарри Поттер и Принц-полукровка
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You
never
get
it
right
,
you
people
,
do
you
?
Either
we
've
got
Fudge
,
pretending
everything
's
lovely
while
people
get
murdered
right
under
his
nose
,
or
we
've
got
you
,
chucking
the
wrong
people
into
jail
and
trying
to
pretend
you
've
got
the
Chosen
One
working
for
you
!
"
"
So
you
're
not
the
Chosen
One
?
"
said
Scrimgeour
.
"
I
thought
you
said
it
did
n't
matter
either
way
?
"
said
Harry
,
with
a
bitter
laugh
.
"
Not
to
you
anyway
.
"
"
I
should
n't
have
said
that
,
"
said
Scrimgeour
quickly
.
"
It
was
tactless
--
"
"
No
,
it
was
honest
,
"
said
Harry
.
"
One
of
the
only
honest
things
you
've
said
to
me
.
You
do
n't
care
whether
I
live
or
die
,
but
you
do
care
that
I
help
you
convince
everyone
you
're
winning
the
war
against
Voldemort
.
I
have
n't
forgotten
,
Minister
...
.
"
He
raised
his
right
fist
.
There
,
shining
white
on
the
back
of
his
cold
hand
,
were
the
scars
which
Dolores
Umbridge
had
forced
him
to
carve
into
his
own
flesh
:
I
must
not
tell
lies
.
"
I
do
n't
remember
you
rushing
to
my
defense
when
I
was
trying
to
tell
everyone
Voldemort
was
back
.
The
Ministry
was
n't
so
keen
to
be
pals
last
year
.
"
They
stood
in
silence
as
icy
as
the
ground
beneath
their
feet
.
The
gnome
had
finally
managed
to
extricate
his
worm
and
was
now
sucking
on
it
happily
,
leaning
against
the
bottom-most
branches
of
the
rhododendron
bush
.
"
What
is
Dumbledore
up
to
?
"
said
Scrimgeour
brusquely
.
"
Where
does
he
go
when
he
is
absent
from
Hogwarts
?
"
"
No
idea
,
"
said
Harry
.
