Гарри Поттер и тайная комната
The Dueling Club
Heturnedtosquintatwhathe’dfallenoverandfeltasthoughhisstomachhaddissolved.
JustinFinch-Fletchleywaslyingonthefloor,rigidandcold,alookofshockfrozenonhisface,hiseyesstaringblanklyattheceiling. Andthatwasn’tall.Nexttohimwasanotherfigure,thestrangestsightHarryhadeverseen.
ItwasNearlyHeadlessNick,nolongerpearly-whiteandtransparent,butblackandsmoky,floatingimmobileandhorizontal,sixinchesoffthefloor.HisheadwashalfoffandhisfaceworeanexpressionofshockidenticaltoJustin’s.
Harrygottohisfeet,hisbreathingfastandshallow,hisheartdoingakindofdrumrollagainsthisribs. Helookedwildlyupanddownthedesertedcorridorandsawalineofspidersscuttlingasfastastheycouldawayfromthebodies.Theonlysoundswerethemuffledvoicesofteachersfromtheclassesoneitherside.
Hecouldrun,andnoonewouldeverknowhehadbeenthere.Buthecouldn’tjustleavethemlyinghere...Hehadtogethelp...Wouldanyonebelievehehadn’thadanythingtodowiththis?
Ashestoodthere,panicking,adoorrightnexttohimopenedwithabang.PeevesthePoltergeistcameshootingout.
"Why,it’spottyweePotter!"cackledPeeves,knockingHarry’sglassesaskewashebouncedpasthim."What’sPotterupto?Why’sPotterlurking—"
Peevesstopped,halfwaythroughamidairsomersault.Upsidedown,hespottedJustinandNearlyHeadlessNick.
