Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Godric’s Hollow

           Nowthathewassonear,hewonderedwhetherhewantedtoseeafterall.PerhapsHermioneknewhowhewasfeeling,becauseshereachedforhishandandtooktheleadforthefirsttime,pullinghimforward.Halfwayacrossthesquare,however,shestoppeddead.

           "Harry,look!"

           Shewaspointingatthewarmemorial.Astheyhadpassedit,ithadtransformed.Insteadofanobeliskcoveredinnames,therewasastatueofthreepeople:amanwithuntidyhairandglasses,awomanwithlonghairandakind,prettyface,andababyboysittinginhismother’sarms.Snowlayuponalltheirheads,likefluffywhitecaps.

           Harrydrewcloser,gazingupintohisparents’faces.Hehadneverimaginedthattherewouldbeastatue....Howstrangeitwastoseehimselfrepresentedinstone,ahappybabywithoutascaronhisforehead....

           "C’mon,"saidHarry,whenhehadlookedhisfill,andtheyturnedagaintowardthechurch.Astheycrossedtheroad,heglancedoverhisshoulder;thestatuehadturnedbackintothewarmemorial.

           Thesinginggrewlouderastheyapproachedthechurch.ItmadeHarry’sthroatconstrict,itremindedhimsoforcefullyofHogwarts,ofPeevesbellowingrudeversionsofcarolsfrominsidesuitsofarmor,oftheGreatHall’stwelveChristmastrees,ofDumbledorewearingabonnethehadwoninacracker,ofRoninahand-knittedsweater....

           Therewasakissinggateattheentrancetothegraveyard.Hermionepusheditopenasquietlyaspossibleandtheyedgedthroughit.

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