Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

Snapes Worst Memory

           Umbridgewassittingbehindthedesk,busilyscribblingonsomeofherpinkparchment,butshelookedupandsmiledwidelyattheirentrance.

           ’Thankyou,Argus,’shesaidsweetly.

           ’Notatall,Ma’am,notatall,’saidFilch,bowingaslowashisrheumatismwouldpermit,andexitingbackwards.

           ’Sit,’saidUmbridgecurtly,pointingtowardsachair.Harrysat.Shecontinuedtoscribbleforafewmoments.Hewatchedsomeofthefoulkittensgambollingaroundtheplatesoverherhead,wonderingwhatfreshhorrorshehadinstoreforhim.

           ’Well,now,’shesaidfinally,settingdownherquillandsurveyinghimcomplacently,likeatoadabouttoswallowaparticularlyjuicyfly.’Whatwouldyouliketodrink?’

           ’What?saidHarry,quitesurehehadmisheardher.

           ’Todrink,MrPotter,’shesaid,smilingstillmorewidely.Tea?Coffee?Pumpkinjuice?’

           Asshenamedeachdrink,shegavehershortwandawave,andacuporglassofitappearedonherdesk.

           ’Nothing,thankyou,’saidHarry.

           ’Iwishyoutohaveadrinkwithme,’shesaid,hervoicebecomingdangerouslysweet.’Chooseone.

           ’Fine...teathen,’saidHarryshrugging.

           Shegotupandmadequiteaperformanceofaddingmilkwithherbacktohim.Shethenbustledaroundthedeskwithit,smilinginasinisterlysweetfashion.

           ’There,’shesaid,handingittohim.’Drinkitbeforeitgetscold,won’tyou?Well,now,MrPotter...Ithoughtweoughttohavealittlechat,afterthedistressingeventsoflastnight.

           Hesaidnothing.

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