Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Bathilda’s Secret

           Thewomanbeckonedagain,morevigorously.Harrycouldthinkofmanyreasonsnottoobeythesummons,andyethissuspicionsaboutheridentityweregrowingstrongereverymomentthattheystoodfacingeachotherinthedesertedstreet.

           Wasitpossiblethatshehadbeenwaitingforthemalltheselongmonths?ThatDumbledorehadtoldhertowait,andthatHarrywouldcomeintheend?Wasitnotlikelythatitwasshewhohadmovedintheshadowsinthegraveyardandhadfollowedthemtothisspot?EvenherabilitytosensethemsuggestedsomeDumbledore-ishpowerthathehadneverencounteredbefore.

           FinallyHarryspoke,causingHermionetogaspandjump.

           "AreyouBathilda?"

           Themuffledfigurenoddedandbeckonedagain.

           BeneaththeCloakHarryandHermionelookedateachother.Harryraisedhiseyebrows;Hermionegaveatiny,nervousnod.

           Theysteppedtowardthewomanand,atonce,sheturnedandhobbledoffbackthewaytheyhadcome.Leadingthempastseveralhouses,sheturnedinatagate.Theyfollowedherupthefrontpaththroughagardennearlyasovergrownastheonetheyhadjustleft.Shefumbledforamomentwithakeyatthefrontdoor,thenopeneditandsteppedbacktoletthempass.

           Shesmelledbad,orperhapsitwasherhouse:HarrywrinkledhisnoseastheysidledpastherandpulledofftheCloak.Nowthathewasbesideher,herealizedhowtinyshewas;boweddownwithage,shecamebarelylevelwithhischest.Sheclosedthedoorbehindthem,herknucklesblueandmottledagainstthepeelingpaint,thenturnedandpeeredintoHarry’sface.

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