Гарри Поттер и философский камень
Quidditch
"Whatareyoudoing?"moanedRon,gray-faced.
"Iknewit,"Hermionegasped,"Snape—look."
Rongrabbedthebinoculars.Snapewasinthemiddleofthestandsoppositethem.HehadhiseyesfixedonHarryandwasmutteringnonstopunderhisbreath.
"He’sdoingsomething—jinxingthebroom,"saidHermione.
"Whatshouldwedo?"
"Leaveittome."
BeforeRoncouldsayanotherword,Hermionehaddisappeared.RonturnedthebinocularsbackonHarry.Hisbroomwasvibratingsohard,itwasalmostimpossibleforhimtohangonmuchlonger. Thewholecrowdwasonitsfeet,watching,terrified,astheWeasleysflewuptotryandpullHarrysafelyontooneoftheirbrooms,butitwasnogood-everytimetheygotnearhim,thebroomwouldjumphigherstill. Theydroppedlowerandcircledbeneathhim,obviouslyhopingtocatchhimifhefell.MarcusFlintseizedtheQuaffleandscoredfivetimeswithoutanyonenoticing.
"Comeon,Hermione,"Ronmuttereddesperately.
HermionehadfoughtherwayacrosstothestandwhereSnapestood,andwasnowracingalongtherowbehindhim;shedidn’tevenstoptosaysorryassheknockedProfessorQuirrellheadfirstintotherowinfront. ReachingSnape,shecroucheddown,pulledoutherwand,andwhisperedafew,well-chosenwords.BrightblueflamesshotfromherwandontothehemofSnape’srobes.
