Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня

The Pensieve

           Harryfelthimselfrisingintotheair;thedungeondissolvedaroundhim;foramoment,allwasblackness,andthenhefeltasthoughhehaddoneaslow-motionsomersault,suddenlylandingflatonhisfeet,inwhatseemedlikethedazzlinglightofDumbledore’ssunlitoffice.Thestonebasinwasshimmeringinthecabinetinfrontofhim,andAlbusDumbledorewasstandingbesidehim.

           "Professor,"Harrygasped,"IknowIshouldn’t’ve-Ididn’tmean-thecabinetdoorwassortofopenand-"

           "Iquiteunderstand,"saidDumbledore.Heliftedthebasin,carrieditovertohisdesk,placedituponthepolishedtop,andsatdowninthechairbehindit.HemotionedforHarrytositdownoppositehim.

           Harrydidso,staringatthestonebasin.Thecontentshadreturnedtotheiroriginal,silvery-whitestate,swirlingandripplingbeneathhisgaze.

           "Whatisit?"Harryaskedshakily.

           "This?ItiscalledaPensieve,"saidDumbledore."Isometimesfind,andIamsureyouknowthefeeling,thatIsimplyhavetoomanythoughtsandmemoriescrammedintomymind."

           "Er,"saidHarry,whocouldn’ttruthfullysaythathehadeverfeltanythingofthesort.

           "Atthesetimes,"saidDumbledore,indicatingthestonebasin,"IusethePensieve.Onesimplysiphonstheexcessthoughtsfromone’smind,poursthemintothebasin,andexaminesthematone’sleisure.Itbecomeseasiertospotpatternsandlinks,youunderstand,whentheyareinthisform."

           "Youmean...thatstuff’syourthoughts?"Harrysaid,staringattheswirlingwhitesubstanceinthebasin.

           "Certainly,"saidDumbledore.

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