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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 12/732
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Nobody
laughed
this
time
.
There
was
no
mistaking
the
anger
and
contempt
in
Voldemort
's
voice
.
For
the
third
time
,
Charity
Burbage
revolved
to
face
Snape
.
Tears
were
pouring
from
her
eyes
into
her
hair
.
Snape
looked
back
at
her
,
quite
impassive
,
as
she
turned
slowly
away
from
him
again
.
"
Avada
Kedavra
"
The
flash
of
green
light
illuminated
every
corner
of
the
room
.
Charity
fell
,
with
a
resounding
crash
,
onto
the
table
below
,
which
trembled
and
creaked
.
Several
of
the
Death
Eaters
leapt
back
in
their
chairs
.
Draco
fell
out
of
his
onto
the
floor
.
"
Dinner
,
Nagini
,
"
said
Voldemort
softly
,
and
the
great
snake
swayed
and
slithered
from
his
shoulders
onto
the
polished
wood
.
Harry
was
bleeding
.
Clutching
his
right
hand
in
his
left
and
swearing
under
his
breath
,
he
shouldered
open
his
bedroom
door
.
There
was
a
crunch
of
breaking
china
.
He
had
trodden
on
a
cup
of
cold
tea
that
had
been
sitting
on
the
floor
outside
his
bedroom
door
.
"
What
the
--
?
"
He
looked
around
,
the
landing
of
number
four
,
Privet
Drive
,
was
deserted
.
Possibly
the
cup
of
tea
was
Dudley
's
idea
of
a
clever
booby
trap
.
Keeping
his
bleeding
hand
elevated
,
Harry
scraped
the
fragments
of
cup
together
with
the
other
hand
and
threw
them
into
the
already
crammed
bin
just
visible
inside
his
bedroom
door
.
Then
he
tramped
across
to
the
bathroom
to
run
his
finger
under
the
tap
.
It
was
stupid
,
pointless
,
irritating
beyond
belief
that
he
still
had
four
days
left
of
being
unable
to
perform
magic
...
but
he
had
to
admit
to
himself
that
this
jagged
cut
in
his
finger
would
have
defeated
him
.
He
had
never
learned
how
to
repair
wounds
,
and
now
he
came
to
think
of
it
--
particularly
in
light
of
his
immediate
plans
--
this
seemed
a
serious
flaw
in
his
magical
education
.
Making
a
mental
note
to
ask
Hermione
how
it
was
done
,
he
used
a
large
wad
of
toilet
paper
to
mop
up
as
much
of
the
tea
as
he
could
before
returning
to
his
bedroom
and
slamming
the
door
behind
him
.
Harry
had
spent
the
morning
completely
emptying
his
school
trunk
for
the
first
time
since
he
had
packed
it
six
years
ago
.
At
the
start
of
the
intervening
school
years
,
he
had
merely
skimmed
off
the
topmost
three
quarters
of
the
contents
and
replaced
or
updated
them
,
leaving
a
layer
of
general
debris
at
the
bottom
--
old
quills
,
desiccated
beetle
eyes
,
single
socks
that
no
longer
fit
.
Minutes
previously
,
Harry
had
plunged
his
hand
into
this
mulch
,
experienced
a
stabbing
pain
in
the
fourth
finger
of
his
right
hand
,
and
withdrawn
it
to
see
a
lot
of
blood
.
