Гарри Поттер и тайная комната
The Dueling Club
Hagrid’sfacewasentirelyhiddenbyawoolly,snow-coveredbalaclava,butitcouldn’tpossiblybeanyoneelse,ashefilledmostofthecorridorinhismoleskinovercoat. Adeadroosterwashangingfromoneofhismassive,glovedhands.
"Allrigh’,Harry?"hesaid,pullingupthebalaclavasohecouldspeak."Whyaren’tyehinclass?"
"Canceled,"saidHarry,gettingup."What’reyoudoinginhere?"
Hagridheldupthelimprooster.
"Secondonekilledthisterm,"heexplained."It’seitherfoxesoraBlood-SuckinBugbear,an’IneedtheHeadmaster’spermissionterputacharmaroundthehencoop."
HepeeredmorecloselyatHarryfromunderhisthick,snowfleckedeyebrows.
"Yehsureyeh’reallrigh’?Yehlookallhotan’bothered—"
Harrycouldn’tbringhimselftorepeatwhatErnieandtherestoftheHufflepuffshadbeensayingabouthim.
"It’snothing,"hesaid."Idbettergetgoing,Hagrid,it’sTransfigurationnextandI’vegottopickupmybooks."
Hewalkedoff,hismindstillfullofwhatErniehadsaidabouthim.
"Justin’sbeenwaitingforsomethinglikethistohappeneversinceheletsliptoPotterhewasMuggle-born..."
Harrystampedupthestairsandturnedalonganothercorridor,whichwasparticularlydark;thetorcheshadbeenextinguishedbyastrong,icydraftthatwasblowingthroughaloosewindowpane. Hewashalfwaydownthepassagewhenhetrippedheadlongoversomethinglyingonthefloor.
