Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

Dudley Demented

           Stumblingbackwards,Harryraisedhiswand.

           ’Expectopatronum!’

           AsilverywispofvapourshotfromthetipofthewandandtheDementorslowed,butthespellhadn’tworkedproperly;trippingoverhisownfeet,HarryretreatedfurtherastheDementorboredownuponhim,panicfogginghisbrainconcentrate

           Apairofgrey,slimy,scabbedhandsslidfrominsidetheDementor’srobes,reachingforhim.ArushingnoisefilledHarry’sears.

           ’Expectopatronum!’

           Hisvoicesoundeddimanddistant....Anotherwispofsilversmoke,feeblerthanthelast,driftedfromthewandhecouldn’tdoitanymore,hecouldn’tworkthespell.

           Therewaslaughterinsidehisownhead,shrill,high-pitchedlaughter....HecouldsmelltheDementor’sputrid,death-coldbreathfillinghisownlungs,drowninghimThink...somethinghappy....

           Buttherewasnohappinessinhim...theDementor’sicyfingerswereclosingonhisthroatthehigh-patchedlaughterwasgrowinglouderandlouder,andavoicespokeinsidehishead:’Bowtodeath,Harry....Itmightevenbepainless....Iwouldnotknow....Ihaveneverdied....

           HewasnevergoingtoseeRonandHermioneagain

           Andtheirfacesburstclearlyintohismindashefoughtforbreath.

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