Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Magic is Might

           "Intheirrightfulplace.Comeon,let’sgetgoing."

           Theyjoinedthestreamofwitchesandwizardsmovingtowardthegoldengatesattheendofthehall,lookingaroundassurreptitiouslyaspossible,buttherewasnosignofthedistinctivefigureofDoloresUmbridge.Theypassedthroughthegatesandintoasmallerhall,wherequeueswereforminginfrontoftwentygoldengrilleshousingasmanylifts.Theyhadbarelyjoinedthenearestonewhenavoicesaid,"Cattermole!"

           Theylookedaround:Harry’sstomachturnedover.OneoftheDeathEaterswhohadwitnessedDumbledore’sdeathwasstridingtowardthem.TheMinistryworkersbesidethemfellsilent,theireyesdowncast;Harrycouldfeelfearripplingthroughthem.Theman’sscowling,slightlybrutishfacewassomehowatoddswithhismagnificent,sweepingrobes,whichwereembroideredwithmuchgoldthread.Someoneinthecrowdaroundtheliftscalledsycophantically,"Morning,Yaxley!"Yaxleyignoredthem.

           "IrequestedsomebodyfromMagicalMaintenancetosortoutmyoffice,Cattermole.It’sstillraininginthere."

           Ronlookedaroundasthoughhopingsomebodyelsewouldintervene,butnobodyspoke.

           "Raining...inyouroffice?That’sthat’snotgood,isit?"

           Rongaveanervouslaugh.Yaxley’seyeswidened.

           "Youthinkit’sfunny,Cattermole,doyou?"

           Apairofwitchesbrokeawayfromthequeuefortheliftandbustledoff.

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