Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Bathilda’s Secret

           Hegaveastart:Bathildahadmovedclosetohiminthosefewsecondsofdarkness,andhehadnotheardherapproach.

           "YouarePotter?"shewhispered.

           "Yes,Iam."

           Shenoddedslowly,solemnly.HarryfelttheHorcruxbeatingfast,fasterthanhisownheart:Itwasanunpleasant,agitatingsensation.

           "Haveyougotanythingforme?"Harryasked,butsheseemeddistractedbyhislitwand-tip.

           "Haveyougotanythingforme?"herepeated.

           Thensheclosedhereyesandseveralthingshappenedatonce:Harry’sscarprickledpainfully;theHorcruxtwitchedsothatthefrontofhissweateractuallymoved;thedark,fetidroomdissolvedmomentarily.Hefeltaleapofjoyandspokeinahigh,coldvoice:Holdhim!

           Harryswayedwherehestood:Thedark,foul-smellingroomseemedtoclosearoundhimagain;hedidnotknowwhathadjusthappened.

           "Haveyougotanythingforme?"heaskedforathirdtime,muchlouder.

           "Overhere,"shewhispered,pointingtothecorner.Harryraisedhiswandandsawtheoutlineofacluttereddressingtablebeneaththecurtainedwindow.

           Thistimeshedidnotleadhim.Harryedgedbetweenherandtheunmadebed,hiswandraised.Hedidnotwanttolookawayfromher.

           "Whatisit?"heaskedashereachedthedressingtable,whichwasheapedhighwithwhatlookedandsmelledlikedirtylaundry.

           "There,"shesaid,pointingattheshapelessmass.

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