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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 219/732
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"
All
right
,
"
said
Ron
slowly
,
"
let
's
say
we
go
for
it
tomorrow
...
I
think
it
should
just
be
me
and
Harry
.
"
"
Oh
,
do
n't
start
that
again
!
"
sighed
Hermione
.
"
I
thought
we
'd
settled
this
.
"
"
It
's
one
thing
hanging
around
the
entrances
under
the
Cloak
,
but
this
is
different
,
Hermione
.
"
Ron
jabbed
a
finger
at
a
copy
of
the
Daily
Prophet
dated
ten
days
previously
.
"
You
're
on
the
list
of
Muggle-borns
who
did
n't
present
themselves
for
interrogation
!
"
"
And
you
're
supposed
to
be
dying
of
spattergroit
at
the
Burrow
!
If
anyone
should
n't
go
,
it
's
Harry
,
he
's
got
a
ten-thousand-Galleon
price
on
his
head
--
"
"
Fine
,
I
'll
stay
here
,
"
said
Harry
.
"
Let
me
know
if
you
ever
defeat
Voldemort
,
wo
n't
you
?
"
As
Ron
and
Hermione
laughed
,
pain
shot
through
the
scar
on
Harry
's
forehead
.
His
hand
jumped
to
it
:
He
saw
Hermione
's
eyes
narrow
,
and
he
tried
to
pass
off
the
movement
by
brushing
his
hair
out
of
his
eyes
.
"
Well
,
if
all
three
of
us
go
we
'll
have
to
Disapparate
separately
,
"
Ron
was
saying
.
"
We
ca
n't
all
fit
under
the
Cloak
anymore
.
"
Harry
's
scar
was
becoming
more
and
more
painful
.
He
stood
up
.
At
once
,
Kreacher
hurried
forward
.
"
Master
has
not
finished
his
soup
,
would
Master
prefer
the
savory
stew
,
or
else
the
treacle
tart
to
which
Master
is
so
partial
?
"
"
Thanks
,
Kreacher
,
but
I
'll
be
back
in
a
minute
--
er
--
bathroom
.
"
