Гарри Поттер и философский камень

           Ithappenedverysuddenly.Thehook-nosedteacherlookedpastQuirrell’sturbanstraightintoHarry’seyes—andasharp,hotpainshotacrossthescaronHarry’sforehead. 

           "Ouch!"Harryclappedahandtohishead. 

           "Whatisit?"askedPercy. 

           "N-nothing." 

           Thepainhadgoneasquicklyasithadcome.HardertoshakeoffwasthefeelingHarryhadgottenfromtheteacher’slook—afeelingthathedidn’tlikeHarryatall. 

           "Who’sthatteachertalkingtoProfessorQuirrell?"heaskedPercy. 

           "Oh,youknowQuirrellalready,doyou?Nowonderhe’slookingsonervous,that’sProfessorSnape.HeteachesPotions,buthedoesn’twantto—everyoneknowshe’safterQuirrell’sjob.KnowsanawfullotabouttheDarkArts,Snape." 

           HarrywatchedSnapeforawhile,butSnapedidn’tlookathimagain. 

           Atlast,thedessertstoodisappeared,andProfessorDumbledoregottohisfeetagain.Thehallfellsilent. 

           "Ahem—justafewmorewordsnowthatweareallfedandwatered.Ihaveafewstart-of-termnoticestogiveyou. 

           "Firstyearsshouldnotethattheforestonthegroundsisforbiddentoallpupils.Andafewofourolderstudentswoulddowelltorememberthataswell."