Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

The Prince’s Tale

           "Definitely,"saidSnape,andevenwithhispoorlycuthairandhisoddclothes,hestruckanoddlyimpressivefiguresprawledinfrontofher,brimfulofconfidenceinhisdestiny.

           "Andwillitreallycomebyowl?"Lilywhispered.

           "Normally,"saidSnape."Butyou’reMuggle-born,sosomeonefromtheschoolwillhavetocomeandexplaintoyourparents."

           "Doesitmakeadifference,beingMuggle-born?"

           Snapehesitated.Hisblackeyes,eagerinthegreenishgloom,movedoverthepaleface,thedarkredhair.

           "No,"hesaid."Itdoesn’tmakeanydifference."

           "Good,"saidLily,relaxing.Itwasclearthatshehadbeenworrying.

           "You’vegotloadsofmagic,"saidSnape."Isawthat.AllthetimeIwaswatchingyou…"

           Hisvoicetrailedaway;shewasnotlistening,buthadstretchedoutontheleafygroundandwaslookingupatthecanopyofleavesoverhead.Hewatchedherasgreedilyashehadwatchedherintheplayground.

           "Howarethingsatyourhouse?"Lilyasked.

           Alittlecreaseappearedbetweenhiseyes.

           "Fine,"hesaid.

           "They’renotarguinganymore?"

           "Ohyes,they’rearguing,"saidSnape.Hepickedupafistfulofleavesandbegantearingthemapart,apparentlyunawareofwhathewasdoing."Butitwon’tbethatlongandI’llbegone."

           "Doesn’tyourdadlikemagic?"

           "Hedoesn’tlikeanything,much,"saidSnape.

           "Severus?"

           AlittlesmiletwistedSnape’smouthwhenshesaidhisname.

           "Yeah?"

           "TellmeabouttheDementorsagain."

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