Гарри Поттер и философский камень
The Boy who lived
"Shhh!"hissedProfessorMcGonagall, "you’llwaketheMuggles!"
"S-s-sorry,"sobbedHagrid, takingoutalarge,spottedhandkerchief andburyinghisfaceinit. "ButIc-c-can’tstandit —Lilyan’Jamesdead —an’poorlittleHarryoffterlivewithMuggles—"
"Yes,yes,itsallverysad, butgetagriponyourself,Hagrid,orwe’llbefound," ProfessorMcGonagallwhispered, pattingHagridgingerlyonthearm asDumbledoresteppedoverthelowgardenwall andwalkedtothefrontdoor. HelaidHarrygentlyonthedoorstep, tookaletteroutofhiscloak, tuckeditinsideHarry’sblankets,andthencamebacktotheothertwo. Forafullminutethethreeofthemstoodandlookedatthelittlebundle; Hagrid’sshouldersshook,ProfessorMcGonagallblinkedfuriously, andthetwinklinglightthatusuallyshonefromDumbledore’seyesseemedtohavegoneout.
"Well,"saidDumbledorefinally, "that’sthat. We’venobusinessstayinghere. Wemayaswellgoandjointhecelebrations."
"Yeah,"saidHagridinaverymuffledvoice, "I’dbestgetthisbikeaway. G’night,ProfessorMcGonagall —ProfessorDumbledore,sir."
Wipinghisstreamingeyesonhisjacketsleeve, Hagridswunghimselfontothemotorcycleandkickedtheengineintolife; witharoaritroseintotheairandoffintothenight.
