Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

Dudley Demented

           AfistmadecontactwiththesideofHarry’shead,liftinghimoffhisfeet.Smallwhitelightspoppedinfrontofhiseyes.ForthesecondtimeinanhourHarryfeltasthoughhisheadhadbeencleavedintwo;nextmoment,hehadlandedhardonthegroundandhiswandhadflownoutofhishand.

           ’Youmoron,Dudley!’Harryyelled,hiseyeswateringwithpainashescrambledtohishandsandknees,feelingaroundfranticallyintheblackness.HeheardDudleyblunderingaway,hittingthealleyfence,stumbling.

           ’DUDLEY,COMEBACK!YOU’RERUNNINGRIGHTATIT!’

           TherewasahorriblesquealingyellandDudley’sfootstepsstopped.Atthesamemoment,Harryfeltacreepingchillbehindhimthatcouldmeanonlyonething.Therewasmorethanone.

           ’DUDLEY,KEEPYOURMOUTHSHUT!WHATEVERYOUDO,KEEPYOURMOUTHSHUT!Wand!’Harrymutteredfrantically,hishandsflyingoverthegroundlikespiders.’Where’swandcomeonLumos!’

           Hesaidthespellautomatically,desperateforlighttohelphiminhissearchandtohisdisbelievingrelief,lightflaredinchesfromhisrighthandthewandtiphadignited.Harrysnatcheditup,scrambledtohisfeetandturnedaround.

           Hisstomachturnedover.

           Atowering,hoodedfigurewasglidingsmoothlytowardshim,hoveringovertheground,nofeetorfacevisiblebeneathitsrobes,suckingonthenightasitcame.

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