Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

The Wandmaker

           Helookedaround:Therewereanumberoflargewhitestones,smoothedbythesea,markingtheedgeoftheflowerbeds.Hepickeduponeofthelargestandlaidit,pillowlike,overtheplacewhereDobby’sheadnowrested.Hethenfeltinhispocketforawand.Thereweretwointhere.Hehadforgotten,losttrack;hecouldnotnowrememberwhosewandsthesewere;heseemedtorememberwrenchingthemoutofsomeone’shand.Heselectedtheshorterofthetwo,whichfeltfriendlierinhishand,andpointeditattherock.

           Slowly,underhismurmuredinstruction,deepcutsappearedupontherock’ssurface.HeknewthatHermionecouldhavedoneitmoreneatly,andprobablymorequickly,buthewantedtomarkthespotashehadwantedtodigthegrave.WhenHarrystoodupagain,thestoneread:

           HERELIESDOBBY,AFREEELF.

           Helookedathishandiworkforafewmoreseconds,thenwalkedaway,hisscarstillpricklingalittle,andhismindfullofthosethingsthathadcometohiminthegrave,ideasthathadtakenshapeinthedarkness,ideasbothfascinatingandterrible.

           Theywereallsittinginthelivingroomwhenheenteredthelittlehall,theirattentionfocuseduponBill,whowastalking.Theroomwaslight-colored,pretty,withasmallfireofdriftwoodburningbrightlyinthefireplace.Harrydidnotwanttodropmuduponthecarpet,sohestoodinthedoorway,listening.

           "…luckythatGinny’sonholiday.Ifshe’dbeenatHogwartstheycouldhavetakenherbeforewereachedher.Nowweknowshe’ssafetoo."HelookedaroundandsawHarrystandingthere.

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