Гарри Поттер и философский камень

           Attheveryendofthecorridorhungaportraitofaveryfatwomaninapinksilkdress. 

           "Password?"shesaid. 

           "CaputDraconis,"saidPercy,andtheportraitswungforwardtorevealaroundholeinthewall. Theyallscrambledthroughit—Nevilleneededalegup—andfoundthemselvesintheGryffindorcommonroom,acozy,roundroomfullofsquashyarmchairs. 

           Percydirectedthegirlsthroughonedoortotheirdormitoryandtheboysthroughanother. Atthetopofaspiralstaircase—theywereobviouslyinoneofthetowers—theyfoundtheirbedsatlast:fivefour-postershungwithdeepred,velvetcurtains. Theirtrunkshadalreadybeenbroughtup.Tootiredtotalkmuch,theypulledontheirpajamasandfellintobed. 

           "Greatfood,isn’tit?"RonmutteredtoHarrythroughthehangings."Getoff,Scabbers!He’schewingmysheets." 

           HarrywasgoingtoaskRonifhe’dhadanyofthetreacletart,buthefellasleepalmostatonce. 

           PerhapsHarryhadeatenabittoomuch,becausehehadaverystrangedream.HewaswearingProfessorQuirrell’sturban,whichkepttalkingtohim,tellinghimhemusttransfertoSlytherinatonce,becauseitwashisdestiny. Harrytoldtheturbanhedidn’twanttobeinSlytherin; itgotheavierandheavier;hetriedtopullitoffbutittightenedpainfully—andtherewasMalfoy,laughingathimashestruggledwithit—thenMalfoyturnedintothehook-nosedteacher,Snape,whoselaughbecamehighandcold—therewasaburstofgreenlightandHarrywoke,sweatingandshaking.