Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Kreacher’s tale

           "Somethingwrong?"askedRon.

           "Therewasalocket."

           "What?"saidHarryandRontogether.

           "Inthecabinetinthedrawingroom.Nobodycouldopenit.Andwe...we..."

           Harryfeltasthoughabrickhadsliddownthroughhischestintohisstomach.Heremembered:Hehadevenhandledthethingastheypasseditaround,eachtryinginturntopriseitopen.Ithadbeentossedintoasackofrubbish,alongwiththesnuffboxofWartcappowderandthemusicboxthathadmadeeveryonesleepy....

           "Kreachernickedloadsofthingsbackfromus,"saidHarry.Itwastheonlychance,theonlyslenderhopelefttothem,andhewasgoingtoclingtoituntilforcedtoletgo."Hehadawholestashofstuffinhiscupboardinthekitchen.C’mon."

           Herandownthestairstakingtwostepsatatime,theothertwothunderingalonginhiswake.TheymadesomuchnoisethattheywoketheportraitofSirius’smotherastheypassedthroughthehall.

           "Filth!Mudbloods!Scum!"shescreamedafterthemastheydasheddownintothebasementkitchenandslammedthedoorbehindthem.

           Harryranthelengthoftheroom,skiddedtoahaltatthedoorofKreacher’scupboard,andwrencheditopen.Therewasthenestofdirtyoldblanketsinwhichthehouse-elfhadonceslept,buttheywerenolongerglitteringwiththetrinketsKreacherhadsalvaged.TheonlythingtherewasanoldcopyofNature’sNobility:AWizardingGenealogy.Refusingtobelievehiseyes,Harrysnatcheduptheblanketsandshookthem.Adeadmousefelloutandrolleddismallyacrossthefloor.

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