Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

The Department of Mysteries

           ’Thisisit,’Harrysaidagain,andhisheartwasnowpumpingsohardandfasthefeltitmustinterferewithhisspeech,’it’sthroughhere

           Heglancedaroundatthemall;theyhadtheirwandsoutandlookedsuddenlyseriousandanxious.Helookedbackatthedoorandpushed.Itswungopen.

           Theywerethere,theyhadfoundtheplace:highasachurchandfullofnothingbuttoweringshelvescoveredinsmall,dustyglassorbs.Theyglimmereddullyinthelightissuingfrommorecandle-bracketssetatintervalsalongtheshelves.Likethoseinthecircularroombehindthem,theirflameswereburningblue.Theroomwasverycold.

           Harryedgedforwardandpeereddownoneoftheshadowyaislesbetweentworowsofshelves.Hecouldnothearanythingorseetheslightestsignofmovement.

           ’Yousaiditwasrowninety-seven,’whisperedHermione.

           ’Yeah,’breathedHarry,lookingupattheendoftheclosestrow.Beneaththebranchofblue-glowingcandlesprotrudingfromitglimmeredthesilverfigurefifty-three.

           ’Weneedtogoright,Ithink,’whisperedHermione,squintingtothenextrow.’Yes...that’sfifty-four...

           ’Keepyourwandsready,’Harrysaidsoftly.

           Theycreptforward,glancingbehindthemastheywentondownthelongalleysofshelves,thefurtherendsofwhichwereinnear-totaldarkness.Tiny,yellowinglabelshadbeenstuckbeneatheachglassorbontheshelves.Someofthemhadaweird,liquidglow;otherswereasdullanddarkwithinasblownlightbulbs.

           Theypassedroweighty-four...eighty-five...

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