Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

The Department of Mysteries

           Theywerestandingonthetopmosttierofwhatseemedtobestonebenchesrunningallaroundtheroomanddescendinginsteepstepslikeanamphitheatre,orthecourtroominwhichHarryhadbeentriedbytheWizengamot.Instead,ofachainedchair,however,therewasaraisedstonedaisinthecentreofthepit,onwhichstoodastonearchwaythatlookedsoancient,crackedandcrumblingthatHarrywasamazedthethingwasstillstanding.Unsupportedbyanysurroundingwall,thearchwaywashungwithatatteredblackcurtainorveilwhich,despitethecompletestillnessofthecoldsurroundingair,wasflutteringveryslightlyasthoughithadjustbeentouched.

           ’Who’sthere?’saidHarry,jumpingdownontothebenchbelow.Therewasnoansweringvoice,buttheveilcontinuedtoflutterandsway.

           ’Careful!’whisperedHermione.

           Harryscrambleddownthebenchesonebyoneuntilhereachedthestonebottomofthesunkenpit.Hisfootstepsechoedloudlyashewalkedslowlytowardsthedais.Thepointedarchwaylookedmuchtallerfromwherehenowstoodthanithadwhenhe’dbeenlookingdownonitfromabove.Stilltheveilswayedgently,asthoughsomebodyhadjustpassedthroughit.

           ’Sirius?’Harryspokeagain,butmorequietlynowthathewasnearer.

           Hehadthestrangestfeelingthattherewassomeonestandingrightbehindtheveilontheothersideofthearchway.Grippinghiswandverytightly,heedgedaroundthedais,buttherewasnobodythere;allthatcouldbeseenwastheothersideofthetatteredblackveil.

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