Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня

The Weighing of the Wands

           "Haveyouthoughtaboutthatatall?"

           "Well...theysayit’sgoingtobealotsaferthisyear,"saidHarry.

           Thequillwhizzedacrosstheparchmentbetweenthem,backandforwardasthoughitwereskating.

           "Ofcourse,you’velookeddeathinthefacebefore,haven’tyou?"saidRitaSkeeter,watchinghimclosely."Howwouldyousaythat’saffectedyou?"

           "Er,"saidHarry,yetagain.

           "Doyouthinkthatthetraumainyourpastmighthavemadeyoukeentoproveyourself?Toliveuptoyourname?DoyouthinkthatperhapsyouweretemptedtoentertheTriwizardTournamentbecause-"

           "Ididn’tenter,"saidHarry,startingtofeelirritated.

           "Canyourememberyourparentsatall?"saidRitaSkeeter,talkingoverhim.

           "No,"saidHarry.

           "Howdoyouthinkthey’dfeeliftheyknewyouwerecompetingintheTriwizardTournament?Proud?Worried?Angry?"

           Harrywasfeelingreallyannoyednow.Howonearthwashetoknowhowhisparentswouldfeeliftheywerealive?HecouldfeelRitaSkeeterwatchinghimveryintently.Frowning,heavoidedhergazeandhookeddownatwordsthequillhadjustwritten:

           Tearsfillthosestartlinglygreeneyesasourconversationturnstotheparentshecanbarelyremember.

           "IhaveNOTgottearsinmyeyes!"saidHarryloudly.

           BeforeRitaSkeetercouldsayaword,thedoorofthebroomcupboardwaspulledopen.Harrylookedaround,blinkinginthebrightlight.AlbusDumbledorestoodthere,lookingdownatbothofthem,squashedintothecupboard.

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