Гарри Поттер и тайная комната
The Worst Birthday
HarryhadslippedthroughVoldemort’sclutchesforasecondtime,butithadbeenanarrowescape,andevennow,weekslater,Harrykeptwakinginthenight,drenchedincoldsweat,wonderingwhereVoldemortwasnow,rememberinghislividface,hiswide,madeyes—
Harrysuddenlysatboltuprightonthegardenbench.Hehadbeenstaringabsent-mindedlyintothehedge-andthehedgewasstaringback.Twoenormousgreeneyeshadappearedamongtheleaves.
Harryjumpedtohisfeetjustasajeeringvoicefloatedacrossthelawn.
"Iknowwhatdayitis,"sangDudley,waddlingtowardhim.
Thehugeeyesblinkedandvanished.
"What?"saidHarry,nottakinghiseyesoffthespotwheretheyhadbeen.
"Iknowwhatdayitis,"Dudleyrepeated,comingrightuptohim.
"Welldone,"saidHarry."Soyou’vefinallylearnedthedaysoftheweek."
"Today’syourbirthday,"sneeredDudley."Howcomeyouhaven’tgotanycards?Haven’tyouevengotfriendsatthatfreakplace?"
"Betternotletyourmumhearyoutalkingaboutmyschool,"saidHarrycoolly.
Dudleyhitcheduphistrousers,whichwereslippingdownhisfatbottom.
"Why’reyoustaringatthehedge?"hesaidsuspiciously.
"I’mtryingtodecidewhatwouldbethebestspelltosetitonfire,"saidHarry.
