Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

Dumbledore’s Army

           Harrycouldhearthemcomplaininginlowvoicesashetowelledhishairdry.

           ’Ithinkafewofminehaveruptured,’saidFredinahollowvoice.

           ’Minehaven’t,’saidGeorge,throughclenchedteeth,’they’rethrobbinglikemad...feelbiggerifanything.

           ’OUCH!’saidHarry.

           Hepressedthetoweltohisface,hiseyesscrewedtightwithpain.Thescaronhisforeheadhadsearedagain,morepainfullythanithadinweeks.

           ’What’sup?’saidseveralvoices.

           Harryemergedfrombehindhistowel;thechangingroomwasblurredbecausehewasnotwearinghisglasses,buthecouldstilltellthateveryone’sfacewasturnedtowardshim.

           ’Nothing,’hemuttered,’Ipokedmyselfintheeye,that’sall.

           ButhegaveRonasignificantlookandthetwoofthemhungbackastherestoftheteamfiledbackoutside,muffledintheircloaks,theirhatspulledlowovertheirears.

           ’Whathappened?’saidRon,themomentAliciahaddisappearedthroughthedoor.’Wasityourscar?’

           Harrynodded.

           ’But...lookingscared,Ronstrodeacrosstothewindowandstaredoutintotherain,’hehecan’tbenearusnow,canhe?’

           ’No,’Harrymuttered,sinkingontoabenchandrubbinghisforehead.’He’sprobablymilesaway.Ithurtbecause...he’s...angry.

           Harryhadnotmeanttosaythatatall,andheardthewordsasthoughastrangerhadspokenthemyetknewatoncethattheyweretrue.Hedidnotknowhowheknewit,buthedid;Voldemort,whereverhewas,whateverhewasdoing,wasinatoweringtemper.

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