Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса

The Lost Prophecy

           Hesettledhimselfonthethrone-likechaironwhichhehadbeenpaintedandsmiledbenignlyuponHarry.

           ’Dumbledorethinksveryhighlyofyou,asIamsureyouknow,’hesaidcomfortably.’Ohyes.Holdsyouingreatesteem.

           TheguiltfillingthewholeofHarry’schestlikesomemonstrous,weightyparasite,nowwrithedandsquirmed.Harrycouldnotstandthis,hecouldnotstandbeinghimselfanymore...hehadneverfeltmoretrappedinsidehisownheadandbody,neverwishedsointenselythathecouldbesomebody,anybodyelse...

           Theemptyfireplaceburstintoemeraldgreenflame,makingHarryleapawayfromthedoor,staringatthemanspinninginsidethegrate.AsDumbledore’stallformunfoldeditselffromthefire,thewizardsandwitchesonthesurroundingwallsjerkedawake,manyofthemgivingcriesofwelcome.

           ’Thankyou,’saidDumbledoresoftly.

           HedidnotlookatHarryatfirst,butwalkedovertotheperchbesidethedoorandwithdrew,fromaninsidepocketofhisrobes,thetiny,ugly,featherlessFawkes,whomheplacedgentlyonthetrayofsoftashesbeneaththegoldenpostwherethefull-grownFawkesusuallystood.

           ’Well,Harry,’saidDumbledore,finallyturningawayfromthebabybird,’youwillbepleasedtohearthatnoneofyourfellowstudentsaregoingtosufferlastingdamagefromthenight’sevents.

           Harrytriedtosay,’Good,’butnosoundcameout.

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