Гарри Поттер и Принц-полукровка
The white tomb
CorneliusFudgewalkedpastthemtowardsthefrontrows,hisexpressionmiserable,twirlinghisgreenbowlerhatasusual;HarrynextrecognisedRitaSkeeter,who,hewasinfuriatedtosee,hadanotebookclutchedinherred-talonedhand;andthen,withaworsejoltoffury,DoloresUmbridge,anunconvincingexpressionofgriefuponhertoadlikeface,ablackvelvetbowsetatopheriron-colouredcurls.AtthesightofthecentaurFirenze,whowasstandinglikeasentinelnearthewater’sedge,shegaveastartandscurriedhastilyintoaseatagooddistanceaway.
Thestaffwereseatedatlast.HarrycouldseeScrimgeourlookinggraveanddignifiedinthefrontrowwithProfessorMcGonagall.HewonderedwhetherScrimgeouroranyoftheseimportantpeoplewerereallysorrythatDumbledorewasdead.Butthenheheardmusic,strangeotherworldlymusicandheforgothisdislikeoftheMinistryinlookingaroundforthesourceofit.Hewasnottheonlyone:manyheadswereturning,searching,alittlealarmed.
"Inthere,"whisperedGinnyinHarry’sear.
Andhesawtheminthecleargreensunlitwater,inchesbelowthesurface,remindinghimhorriblyoftheInferi;achorusofmerpeoplesinginginastrangelanguagehedidnotunderstand,theirpallidfacesrippling,theirpurplishhairflowingallaroundthem.ThemusicmadethehaironHarry’sneckstandupandyetitwasnotunpleasant.Itspokeveryclearlyoflossandofdespair.Ashelookeddownintothewildfacesofthesingershehadthefeelingthatthey,atleast,weresorryforDumbledore’spassing.
