Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

The Department of Mysteries

           DarkLord

           and(?)HarryPotter

           Harrystaredatit.

           ’Whatisit?’Ronasked,soundingunnerved.’What’syournamedoingdownhere?’

           Heglancedalongattheotherlabelsonthatstretchofshelf.

           ’I’mnothere,’hesaid,soundingperplexed.’Noneoftherestofusarehere.

           ’Harry,Idon’tthinkyoushouldtouchit,’saidHermionesharply,ashestretchedouthishand.

           ’Whynot?’hesaid.’It’ssomethingtodowithme,isn’tit?’

           ’Don’t,Harry,’saidNevillesuddenly.Harrylookedathim.Neville’sroundfacewasshiningslightlywithsweat.Helookedasthoughhecouldnottakemuchmoresuspense.

           ’It’sgotmynameon,’saidHarry.

           Andfeelingslightlyreckless,heclosedhisfingersaroundthedustyball’ssurface.Hehadexpectedittofeelcold,butitdidnot.Onthecontrary,itfeltasthoughithadbeenlyinginthesunforhours,asthoughtheglowoflightwithinwaswarmingit.Expecting,evenhoping,thatsomethingdramaticwasgoingtohappen,somethingexcitingthatmightmaketheirlonganddangerousjourneyworthwhileafterall,Harryliftedtheglassballdownfromitsshelfandstaredatit.

           Nothingwhatsoeverhappened.TheothersmovedincloseraroundHarry,gazingattheorbashebrusheditfreeofthecloggingdust.

           Andthen,fromrightbehindthem,adrawlingvoicespoke.

           ’Verygood,Potter.Nowturnaround,niceandslowly,andgivethattome.

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