Гарри Поттер и узник Азкабана

           HogsmeadelookedlikeaChristmascard;thelittlethatchedcottagesandshopswereallcoveredinalayerofcrispsnow;therewerehollywreathsonthedoorsandstringsofenchantedcandleshanginginthetrees.

           Harryshivered;unliketheothertwo,hedidn’thavehiscloak.Theyheadedupthestreet,headsbowedagainstthewind,RonandHermioneshoutingthroughtheirscarves.

           "That’sthepostoffice—"

           "Zonko’sisupthere—"

           "WecouldgouptotheShriekingShack—"

           "Tellyouwhat,"saidRon,histeethchattering,"shallwegoforabutterbeerintheThreeBroomsticks?"

           Harrywasmorethanwilling;thewindwasfierceandhishandswerefreezing,sotheycrossedtheroad,andinafewminuteswereenteringthetinyinn.

           Itwasextremelycrowded,noisy,warm,andsmoky.Acurvysortofwomanwithaprettyfacewasservingabunchofrowdywarlocksupatthebar.

           "That’sMadamRosmerta,"saidRon."I’llgetthedrinks,shallI?"headded,goingslightlyred.

           HarryandHermionemadetheirwaytothebackoftheroom,wheretherewasasmall,vacanttablebetweenthewindowandahandsomeChristmastree,whichstoodnexttothefireplace.Roncamebackfiveminuteslater,carryingthreefoamingtankardsofhotbutterbeer.

           "MerryChristmas!"hesaidhappily,raisinghistankard.

           Harrydrankdeeply.Itwasthemostdeliciousthinghe’devertastedandseemedtoheateverybitofhimfromtheinside.

           Asuddenbreezeruffledhishair.ThedooroftheThreeBroomstickshadopenedagain.Harrylookedovertherimofhistankardandchoked.