Гарри Поттер и философский камень
The Man with Two Faces
Quirrell’svoicetrailedaway.HarrywasrememberinghistriptoDiagonAlley—howcouldhehavebeensostupid?He’dseenQuirrelltherethatveryday,shakenhandswithhimintheLeakyCauldron.
Quirrellcursedunderhisbreath.
"Idon’tunderstand...istheStoneinsidethemirror?ShouldIbreakit?"
Harry’smindwasracing.
WhatIwantmorethananythingelseintheworldatthemoment,hethought,istofindtheStonebeforeQuirrelldoes.SoifIlookinthemirror,Ishouldseemyselffindingit—whichmeansI’llseewhereit’shidden!ButhowcanIlookwithoutQuirrellrealizingwhatI’mupto?
Hetriedtoedgetotheleft,togetinfrontoftheglasswithoutQuirrellnoticing,buttheropesaroundhisanklesweretootight:hetrippedandfellover.Quirrellignoredhim.Hewasstilltalkingtohimself.
"Whatdoesthismirrordo?Howdoesitwork?Helpme,Master!"
AndtoHarry’shorror,avoiceanswered,andthevoiceseemedtocomefromQuirrellhimself.
"Usetheboy...Usetheboy..."
QuirrellroundedonHarry.
"Yes—Potter—comehere."
Heclappedhishandsonce,andtheropesbindingHarryfelloff.Harrygotslowlytohisfeet.
"Comehere,"Quirrellrepeated."Lookinthemirrorandtellmewhatyousee."
