Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня

The Pensieve

           Therewastotalsilence,brokenonlybythedrysobsofafrail,wispy-lookingwitchintheseatnexttoMr.Crouch.Shewasclutchingahandkerchieftohermouthwithtremblinghands.

           HarrylookedupatCrouchandsawthathelookedgaunterandgrayerthaneverbefore.Anervewastwitchinginhistemple.

           "Bringthemin,"hesaid,andhisvoiceechoedthroughthesilentdungeon.

           Thedoorinthecorneropenedyetagain.Sixdementorsenteredthistime,flankingagroupoffourpeople.HarrysawthepeopleinthecrowdturntolookupatMr.Crouch.Afewofthemwhisperedtooneanother.

           Thedementorsplacedeachofthefourpeopleinthefourchairswithchainedarmsthatnowstoodonthedungeonfloor.TherewasathicksetmanwhostaredblanklyupatCrouch;athinnerandmorenervous-lookingman,whoseeyesweredartingaroundthecrowd;awomanwiththick,shiningdarkhairandheavilyhoodedeyes,whowassittinginthechainedchairasthoughitwereathrone;andaboyinhislateteens,wholookednothingshortofpetrified.Hewasshivering,hisstraw-coloredhairalloverhisface,hisfreckledskinmilk-white.ThewispylittlewitchbesideCrouchbegantorockbackwardandforwardinherseat,whimperingintoherhandkerchief.

           Crouchstoodup.Helookeddownuponthefourinfrontofhim,andtherewaspurehatredinhisface.

           "YouhavebeenbroughtherebeforetheCouncilofMagicalLaw,"hesaidclearly,"sothatwemaypassjudgmentonyou,foracrimesoheinous-"

           "Father,"saidtheboywiththestraw-coloredhair."Father...please..."

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