Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

The Goblin’s Revenge

           Hermionesnatchedupthebeadedbagandstartedtorummage;afteramomentshedrewoutthreeExtendableEarsandthrewoneeachtoHarryandRon,whohastilyinsertedtheendsoftheflesh-coloredstringsintotheirearsandfedtheotherendsoutofthetententrance.

           WithinsecondsHarryheardawearymalevoice.

           "Thereoughttobeafewsalmoninhere,ord’youreckonit’stooearlyintheseason?AccioSalmon!"

           Therewereseveraldistinctsplashesandthentheslappingsoundsoffishagainstflesh.Somebodygruntedappreciatively.HarrypressedtheExtendableEardeeperintohisown:Overthemurmuroftheriverhecouldmakeoutmorevoices,buttheywerenotspeakingEnglishoranyhumanlanguagehehadeverheard.Itwasaroughandunmelodioustongue,astringofrattling,gutturalnoises,andthereseemedtobetwospeakers,onewithaslightlylower,slowervoicethantheother.

           Afiredancedintolifeontheothersideofthecanvas;largeshadowspassedbetweententandflames.Thedelicioussmellofbakingsalmonwaftedtantalizinglyintheirdirection.Thencametheclinkingofcutleryonplates,andthefirstmanspokeagain.

           "Here,Griphook,Gornuk."

           Goblins!HermionemouthedatHarry,whonodded.

           "Thankyou,"saidthegoblinstogetherinEnglish.

           "So,youthreehavebeenontherunhowlong?"askedanew,mellow,andpleasantvoice;itwasvaguelyfamiliartoHarry,whopicturedaround-bellied,cheerful-facedman.

           "Sixweeks...seven...Iforget,"saidthetiredman.

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