Гарри Поттер и тайная комната
The Whomping Willow
Theymaderegularchecksonthetrainastheyflewfartherandfarthernorth,eachdipbeneaththecloudsshowingthemadifferentview. Londonwassoonfarbehindthem,replacedbyneatgreenfieldsthatgavewayinturntowide,purplishmoors,agreatcityalivewithcarslikemulticoloredants,villageswithtinytoychurches.
Severaluneventfulhourslater,however,Harryhadtoadmitthatsomeofthefunwaswearingoff. Thetoffeeshadmadethemextremelythirstyandtheyhadnothingtodrink. HeandRonhadpulledofftheirsweaters,butHarry’sT-shirtwasstickingtothebackofhisseatandhisglasseskeptslidingdowntotheendofhissweatynose. Hehadstoppednoticingthefantasticcloudshapesnow andwasthinkinglonginglyofthetrainmilesbelow,whereyoucouldbuyice-coldpumpkinjuicefromatrolleypushedbyaplumpwitch. Whyhadn’ttheybeenabletogetontoplatformnineandthree-quarters?
"Can’tbemuchfurther,canit? "croakedRon,hourslaterstill,asthesunstartedtosinkintotheirfloorofcloud,stainingitadeeppink. "Readyforanothercheckonthetrain?"
Itwasstillrightbelowthem,windingitswaypastasnowcappedmountain. Itwasmuchdarkerbeneaththecanopyofclouds.
Ronputhisfootontheacceleratoranddrovethemupwardagain,butashedidso,theenginebegantowhine.
HarryandRonexchangednervousglances.
"It’sprobablyjusttired,"saidRon. "It’sneverbeenthisfarbefore..."
Andtheybothpretendednottonoticethewhininggrowinglouderandlouderastheskybecamesteadilydarker.
