Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня

Bagman and Crouch

           HewaswearinglongQuidditchrobesinthickhorizontalstripesofbrightyellowandblack.Anenormouspictureofawaspwassplashedacrosshischest.Hehadthelookofapowerfullybuiltmangoneslightlytoseed;therobeswerestretchedtightlyacrossalargebellyhesurelyhadnothadinthedayswhenhehadplayedQuidditchforEngland.Hisnosewassquashed(probablybrokenbyastrayBludger,Harrythought),buthisroundblueeyes,shortblondhair,androsycomplexionmadehimlooklikeaveryovergrownschoolboy.

           "Ahoythere!"Bagmancalledhappily.Hewaswalkingasthoughhehadspringsattachedtotheballsofhisfeetandwasplainlyinastateofwildexcitement.

           "Arthur,oldman,"hepuffedashereachedthecampfire,"whataday,eh?Whataday!Couldwehaveaskedformoreperfectweather?Acloudlessnightcoming...andhardlyahiccoughinthearrangements....Notmuchformetodo!"

           Behindhim,agroupofhaggard-lookingMinistrywizardsrushedpast,pointingatthedistantevidenceofsomesortofamagicalfirethatwassendingvioletsparkstwentyfeetintotheair.

           Percyhurriedforwardwithhishandoutstretched.ApparentlyhisdisapprovalofthewayLudoBagmanranhisdepartmentdidnotpreventhimfromwantingtomakeagoodimpression.

           "Ah-yes,"saidMr.Weasley,grinning,"thisismysonPercy.He’sjuststartedattheMinistry-andthisisFred-no,George,sorry-that’sFred-Bill,Charlie,Ron-mydaughter,GinnyandRon’sfriends,HermioneGrangerandHarryPotter.

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