Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Magic is Might

           Themomentthepastilletouchedhistongue,thelittlewizardstartedvomitingsohardthathedidnotevennoticeasHermioneyankedahandfulofhairsfromthetopofhishead.

           "Ohdear!"shesaid,ashesplatteredthealleywithsick."Perhapsyou’dbettertakethedayoff!"

           "Nono!"Hechokedandretched,tryingtocontinueonhiswaydespitebeingunabletowalkstraight."Imusttodaymustgo—"

           "Butthat’sjustsilly!"saidHermione,alarmed."Youcan’tgotoworkinthisstateIthinkyououghttogotoSt.Mungo’sandgetthemtosortyouout!"

           Thewizardhadcollapsed,heaving,ontoallfours,stilltryingtocrawltowardthemainstreet.

           "Yousimplycan’tgotoworklikethis!"criedHermione.

           Atlastheseemedtoacceptthetruthofherwords.UsingarepulsedHermionetoclawhiswaybackintoastandingposition,heturnedonthespotandvanished,leavingnothingbehindbutthebagRonhadsnatchedfromhishandashewentandsomeflyingchunksofvomit.

           "Urgh,"saidHermione,holdinguptheskirtsofherrobetoavoidthepuddlesofsick."ItwouldhavemademuchlessmesstoStunhimtoo."

           "Yeah,"saidRon,emergingfromunderthecloakholdingthewizard’sbag,"butIstillthinkawholepileofunconsciousbodieswouldhavedrawnmoreattention.Keenonhisjob,though,isn’the?Chuckusthehairandthepotion,then."

           Withintwominutes,Ronstoodbeforethem,assmallandferretyasthesickwizard,andwearingthenavybluerobesthathadbeenfoldedinhisbag.

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