Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

The Beetle at Bay

           Ritahadbeenonthepointofwithdrawinganacid-greenquillfromherbag.LookingasthoughshehadbeenforcedtoswallowStinksap,shesnappedherbagshutagain.

           ’Whatareyouupto?’Harryasked,sittingdownandstaringfromRitatoLunatoHermione.

           ’LittleMissPerfectwasjustabouttotellmewhenyouarrived.saidRita,takingalargeslurpofherdrink.’IsupposeI’mallowedtotalktohim,amI?’sheshotatHermione.

           ’Yes,Isupposeyouare,’saidHermionecoldly.

           UnemploymentdidnotsuitRita.Thehairthathadoncebeensetinelaboratecurlsnowhunglankandunkemptaroundherface.Thescarletpaintonhertwo-inchtalonswaschippedandtherewereacoupleoffalsejewelsmissingfromherwingedglasses.Shetookanothergreatgulpofherdrinkandsaidoutofthecornerofhermouth,’Prettygirl,isshe,Harry?’

           ’OnemorewordaboutHarry’slovelifeandthedeal’soffandthat’sapromise,’saidHermioneirritably.

           ’Whatdeal?’saidRita,wipinghermouthonthebackofherhand.’Youhaven’tmentionedadealyet,MissPrissyyoujusttoldmetoturnup.Oh,oneofthesedays...Shetookadeepshudderingbreath.

           ’Yes,yes,oneofthesedaysyou’llwritemorehorriblestoriesaboutHarryandme,’saidHermioneindifferently.

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