-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джоан Роулинг
-
- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
-
- Стр. 168/732
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
looked
up
at
the
shadowy
ceiling
,
the
cobwebbed
chandelier
.
Less
than
twenty-four
hours
ago
,
he
had
been
standing
in
the
sunlight
at
the
entrance
to
the
marquee
,
waiting
to
show
in
wedding
guests
.
It
seemed
a
lifetime
away
.
What
was
going
to
happen
now
?
He
lay
on
the
floor
and
he
thought
of
the
Horcruxes
,
of
the
daunting
,
complex
mission
Dumbledore
had
left
him
...
Dumbledore
...
The
grief
that
had
possessed
him
since
Dumbledore
's
death
felt
different
now
.
The
accusations
he
had
heard
from
Muriel
at
the
wedding
seemed
to
have
nested
in
his
brain
like
diseased
things
,
infecting
his
memories
of
the
wizard
he
had
idolized
.
Could
Dumbledore
have
let
such
things
happen
?
Had
he
been
like
Dudley
,
content
to
watch
neglect
and
abuse
as
long
as
it
did
not
affect
him
?
Could
he
have
turned
his
back
on
a
sister
who
was
being
imprisoned
and
hidden
?
Harry
thought
of
Godric
's
Hollow
,
of
graves
Dumbledore
had
never
mentioned
there
;
he
thought
of
mysterious
objects
left
without
explanation
in
Dumbledore
's
will
,
and
resentment
swelled
in
the
darkness
.
Why
had
n't
Dumbledore
told
him
?
Why
had
n't
he
explained
?
Had
Dumbledore
actually
cared
about
Harry
at
all
?
Or
had
Harry
been
nothing
more
than
a
tool
to
be
polished
and
honed
,
but
not
trusted
,
never
confided
in
?
Harry
could
not
stand
lying
there
with
nothing
but
bitter
thoughts
for
company
.
Desperate
for
something
to
do
,
for
distraction
,
he
slipped
out
of
his
sleeping
bag
,
picked
up
his
wand
,
and
crept
out
of
the
room
.
On
the
landing
he
whispered
,
"
Lumos
,
"
and
started
to
climb
the
stairs
by
wandlight
.
On
the
second
landing
was
the
bedroom
in
which
he
and
Ron
had
slept
last
time
they
had
been
here
;
he
glanced
into
it
.
The
wardrobe
doors
stood
open
and
the
bedclothes
had
been
ripped
back
.
Harry
remembered
the
overturned
troll
leg
downstairs
.
Somebody
had
searched
the
house
since
the
Order
had
left
.
Snape
?
Or
perhaps
Mundungus
,
who
had
pilfered
plenty
from
this
house
both
before
and
after
Sirius
died
?
Harry
's
gaze
wandered
to
the
portrait
that
sometimes
contained
Phineas
Nigellus
Black
,
Sirius
's
great-great-grandfather
,
but
it
was
empty
,
showing
nothing
but
a
stretch
of
muddy
backdrop
.
Phineas
Nigellus
was
evidently
spending
the
night
in
the
headmaster
's
study
at
Hogwarts
.
Harry
continued
up
the
stairs
until
he
reached
the
topmost
landing
,
where
there
were
only
two
doors
.
The
one
facing
him
bore
a
nameplate
reading
SIRIUS
.
Harry
had
never
entered
his
godfather
's
bedroom
before
.
He
pushed
open
the
door
,
holding
his
wand
high
to
cast
light
as
widely
as
possible
.
The
room
was
spacious
and
must
once
have
been
handsome
.
There
was
a
large
bed
with
a
carved
wooden
headboard
,
a
tall
window
obscured
by
long
velvet
curtains
,
and
a
chandelier
thickly
coated
in
dust
with
candle
stubs
still
resting
in
its
sockets
,
solid
wax
hanging
in
frostlike
drips
.
A
fine
film
of
dust
covered
the
pictures
on
the
walls
and
the
bed
's
headboard
;
a
spider
's
web
stretched
between
the
chandelier
and
the
top
of
the
large
wooden
wardrobe
,
and
as
Harry
moved
deeper
into
the
room
,
he
heard
a
scurrying
of
disturbed
mice
.
The
teenage
Sirius
had
plastered
the
walls
with
so
many
posters
and
pictures
that
little
of
the
walls
'
silvery-gray
silk
was
visible
.
Harry
could
only
assume
that
Sirius
's
parents
had
been
unable
to
remove
the
Permanent
Sticking
Charm
that
kept
them
on
the
wall
,
because
he
was
sure
they
would
not
have
appreciated
their
eldest
son
's
taste
in
decoration
.
Sirius
seemed
to
have
gone
out
of
his
way
to
annoy
his
parents
.
There
were
several
large
Gryffindor
banners
,
faded
scarlet
and
gold
,
just
to
underline
his
difference
from
all
the
rest
of
the
Slytherin
family
.
There
were
many
pictures
of
Muggle
motorcycles
,
and
also
(
Harry
had
to
admire
Sirius
's
nerve
)
several
posters
of
bikini-clad
Muggle
girls
;
Harry
could
tell
that
they
were
Muggles
because
they
remained
quite
stationary
within
their
pictures
,
faded
smiles
and
glazed
eyes
frozen
on
the
paper
.
This
was
in
contrast
to
the
only
Wizarding
photograph
on
the
walls
,
which
was
a
picture
of
four
Hogwarts
students
standing
arm
in
arm
,
laughing
at
the
camera
.