Гарри Поттер и Принц-полукровка
Horace Slughorn
HarrywastoobusydigestingthehorribleideaofInferitohavemuchattentionleftforanythingelse,butastheyreachedthefrontgate,DumbledorestoppeddeadandHarrywalkedintohim.
"Ohdear.Ohdear,dear,dear."
Harryfollowedhisgazeupthecarefullytendedfrontpathandfelthisheartsink.Thefrontdoorwashangingoffitshinges.
Dumbledoreglancedupanddownthestreet.Itseemedquitedeserted.
"Wandoutandfollowme,Harry,"hesaidquietly.
Heopenedthegateandwalkedswiftlyandsilentlyupthegardenpath,Harryathisheels,thenpushedthefrontdoorveryslowly,hiswandraisedandattheready.
"Lumos."
Dumbledore’swandtipignited,castingitslightupanarrowhallway.Totheleft,anotherdoorstoodopen.Holdinghisilluminatedwandaloft,DumbledorewalkedintothesittingroomwithHarryrightbehindhim.
Asceneoftotaldevastationmettheireyes.Agrandfatherclocklaysplinteredattheirfeet,itsfacecracked,itspendulumlyingalittlefartherawaylikeadroppedsword.Apianowasonitsside,itskeysstrewnacrossthefloor.Thewreckageofafallenchandelierflitterednearby.Cushionslaydeflated,feathersoozingfromslashesintheirsides;fragmentsofglassandchinalaylikepowderovereverything.Dumbledoreraisedhiswandevenhigher,sothatitslightwasthrownuponthewalls,wheresomethingdarklyredandglutinouswasspatteredoverthewallpaper.Harry’ssmallintakeofbreathmadeDumbledorelookaround.
"Notpretty,isit?"hesaidheavily."Yes,somethinghorriblehashappenedhere."
