Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня

The Hungarian Horntail

           Hewatchedthebottomofthespiralstaircase.Whohaddecidedtogoforastrollatoneo’clockinthemorning,andstoppedSiriusfromtellinghimhowtogetpastadragon?

           ItwasRon.Dressedinhismaroonpaisleypajamas,RonstoppeddeadfacingHarryacrosstheroom,andlookedaround.

           "Whowereyoutalkingto?"hesaid.

           "What’sthatgottodowithyou?"Harrysnarled."Whatareyoudoingdownhereatthistimeofnight?"

           "Ijustwonderedwhereyou-"Ronbrokeoff,shrugging."Nothing.I’mgoingbacktobed."

           "Justthoughtyou’dcomenosingaround,didyou?"Harryshouted.HeknewthatRonhadnoideawhathe’dwalkedinon,knewhehadn’tdoneitonpurpose,buthedidn’tcare-atthismomenthehatedeverythingaboutRon,rightdowntotheseveralinchesofbareankleshowingbeneathhispajamatrousers.

           "Sorryaboutthat,"saidRon,hisfacereddeningwithanger."Should’verealizedyoudidn’twanttobedisturbed.I’llletyougetonwithpracticingforyournextinterviewinpeace."

           HarryseizedoneofthePOTTERREALLYSTINKSbadgesoffthetableandchuckedit,ashardashecould,acrosstheroom.IthitRonontheforeheadandbouncedoff.

           "Thereyougo,"Harrysaid."SomethingforyoutowearonTuesday.Youmightevenhaveascarnow,ifyon’relucky...

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