Гарри Поттер и философский камень

           DumbledoreandProfessorMcGonagallbentforwardoverthebundleofblankets. Inside,justvisible,wasababyboy,fastasleep. Underatuftofjet-blackhairoverhisforeheadtheycouldseeacuriouslyshapedcut, likeaboltoflightning. 

           "Isthatwhere—?" whisperedProfessorMcGonagall. 

           "Yes,"saidDumbledore. "He’llhavethatscarforever." 

           "Couldn’tyoudosomethingaboutit,Dumbledore?" 

           "EvenifIcould,Iwouldn’t. Scarscancomeinhandy. Ihaveonemyselfabovemyleftknee thatisaperfectmapoftheLondonUnderground. Well—givehimhere,Hagrid —we’dbettergetthisoverwith." 

           DumbledoretookHarryinhisarms andturnedtowardtheDursleys’house. 

           "CouldI—couldIsaygood-byetohim,sir?" askedHagrid. Hebenthisgreat,shaggyheadoverHarry andgavehimwhatmusthavebeenaveryscratchy,whiskerykiss. Then,suddenly,Hagridletoutahowllikeawoundeddog.