Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

A Peck of Owls

           Harry’sfootwasonthebottom-moststairwhenDudleyfoundhisvoice.

           ’Him.

           Harryfroze,footonthestair,facescrewedup,bracedfortheexplosion.

           ’BOY!COMEHERE!’

           Withafeelingofmingleddreadandanger,HarryremovedhisfootslowlyfromthestairandturnedtofollowtheDursleys.

           Thescrupulouslycleankitchenhadanoddlyunrealglitterafterthedarknessoutside.AuntPetuniawasusheringDudleyintoachair;hewasstillverygreenandclammy-looking.UncleVernonwasstandinginfrontofthedrainingboard,glaringatHarrythroughtiny,narrowedeyes.

           ’Whathaveyoudonetomyson?’hesaidinamenacinggrowl.

           ’Nothing,’saidHarry,knowingperfectlywellthatUncleVernonwouldn’tbelievehim.

           ’Whatdidhedotoyou,Diddy?’AuntPetuniasaidinaquaveringvoice,nowspongingsickfromthefrontofDudley’sleatherjacket.’Wasitwasityou-know-what,darling?Didheusehisthing?’

           Slowly,tremulously,Dudleynodded.

           ’Ididn’t!’Harrysaidsharply,asAuntPetunialetoutawailandUncleVernonraisedhisfists.’Ididn’tdoanythingtohim,itwasn’tme,itwas

           Butatthatprecisemomentascreechowlswoopedinthroughthekitchenwindow.

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