Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти

Fallen Warrior

           Hegapedoverthebackofthesofaathistwin’swoundasifhecouldnotbelievewhathewasseeing.

           PerhapsrousedbythesoundofFredandtheirfather’sarrival,Georgestirred.

           "Howdoyoufeel,Georgie?"whisperedMrs.Weasley.

           George’sfingersgropedforthesideofhishead.

           "Saintlike,"hemurmured.

           "What’swrongwithhim?"croakedFred,lookingterrified."Ishismindaffected?"

           "Saintlike,"repeatedGeorge,openinghiseyesandlookingupathisbrother."Yousee...I’mholy.Holey,Fred,geddit?"

           Mrs.Weasleysobbedharderthanever.ColorfloodedFred’spaleface.

           "Pathetic,"hetoldGeorge."Pathetic!Withthewholewideworldofear-relatedhumorbeforeyou,yougoforholey?"

           "Ahwell,"saidGeorge,grinningathistear-soakedmother."You’llbeabletotellusapartnow,anyway,Mum."

           Helookedaround.

           "Hi,HarryyouareHarry,right?"

           "Yeah,Iam,"saidHarry,movingclosertothesofa.

           "Well,atleastwegotyoubackokay,"saidGeorge."Whyaren’tRonandBillhuddledroundmysickbed?"

           "They’renotbackyet,George,"saidMrs.Weasley.George’sgrinfaded.HarryglancedatGinnyandmotionedtohertoaccompanyhimbackoutside.Astheywalkedthroughthekitchenshesaidinalowvoice.

           "RonandTonksshouldbebackbynow.Theydidn’thavealongjourney;AuntieMuriel’snotthatfarfromhere."

           Harrysaidnothing.HehadbeentryingtokeepfearatbayeversincereachingtheBurrow,butnowitenvelopedhim,seemingtocrawloverhisskin,throbbinginhischest,clogginghisthroat.

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