Гарри Поттер и философский камень

           Theyshrankintotheshadowsandwatchedasitemergedintoapatchofmoonlight. 

           Itwasahorriblesight.Twelvefeettall,itsskinwasadull,granitegray,itsgreatlumpybodylikeaboulderwithitssmallbaldheadperchedontoplikeacoconut. Ithadshortlegsthickastreetrunkswithflat,hornyfeet.Thesmellcomingfromitwasincredible. Itwasholdingahugewoodenclub,whichdraggedalongthefloorbecauseitsarmsweresolong. 

           Thetrollstoppednexttoadoorwayandpeeredinside.Itwaggleditslongears,makingupitstinymind,thenslouchedslowlyintotheroom. 

           "Thekeysinthelock,"Harrymuttered."Wecouldlockitin." 

           "Goodidea,"saidRonnervously. 

           Theyedgedtowardtheopendoor,mouthsdry,prayingthetrollwasn’tabouttocomeoutofit.Withonegreatleap,Harrymanagedtograbthekey,slamthedoor,andlockit. 

           "Yes!" 

           Flushedwiththeirvictory,theystartedtorunbackupthepassage,butastheyreachedthecornertheyheardsomethingthatmadetheirheartsstop—ahigh,petrifiedscream—anditwascomingfromthechamberthey’djustchainedup. 

           "Oh,no,"saidRon,paleastheBloodyBaron. 

           "It’sthegirls’bathroom!"Harrygasped. 

           "Hermione!"theysaidtogether.