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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 263/732
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"
Can
you
feel
it
,
though
?
"
Ron
asked
in
a
hushed
voice
,
as
he
held
it
tight
in
his
clenched
fist
.
"
What
d'you
mean
?
"
Ron
passed
the
Horcrux
to
Harry
.
After
a
moment
or
two
,
Harry
thought
he
knew
what
Ron
meant
.
Was
it
his
own
blood
pulsing
through
his
veins
that
he
could
feel
,
or
was
it
something
beating
inside
the
locket
,
like
a
tiny
metal
heart
?
"
What
are
we
going
to
do
with
it
?
"
Hermione
asked
.
"
Keep
it
safe
till
we
work
out
how
to
destroy
it
,
"
Harry
replied
,
and
,
little
though
he
wanted
to
,
he
hung
the
chain
around
his
own
neck
,
dropping
the
locket
out
of
sight
beneath
his
robes
,
where
it
rested
against
his
chest
beside
the
pouch
Hagrid
had
given
him
.
"
I
think
we
should
take
it
in
turns
to
keep
watch
outside
the
tent
,
"
he
added
to
Hermione
,
standing
up
and
stretching
.
"
And
we
'll
need
to
think
about
some
food
as
well
.
You
stay
there
,
"
he
added
sharply
,
as
Ron
attempted
to
sit
up
and
turned
a
nasty
shade
of
green
.
With
the
Sneakoscope
Hermione
had
given
Harry
for
his
birthday
set
carefully
upon
the
table
in
the
tent
,
Harry
and
Hermione
spent
the
rest
of
the
day
sharing
the
role
of
lookout
.
However
,
the
Sneakoscope
remained
silent
and
still
upon
its
point
all
day
,
and
whether
because
of
the
protective
enchantments
and
Muggle-repelling
charms
Hermione
had
spread
around
them
,
or
because
people
rarely
ventured
this
way
,
their
patch
of
wood
remained
deserted
,
apart
from
occasional
birds
and
squirrels
.
Evening
brought
no
change
;
Harry
lit
his
wand
as
he
swapped
places
with
Hermione
at
ten
o'clock
,
and
looked
out
upon
a
deserted
scene
,
noting
the
bats
fluttering
high
above
him
across
the
single
patch
of
starry
sky
visible
from
their
protected
clearing
.
He
felt
hungry
now
,
and
a
little
light-headed
.
Hermione
had
not
packed
any
food
in
her
magical
bag
,
as
she
had
assumed
that
they
would
be
returning
to
Grimmauld
Place
that
night
,
so
they
had
had
nothing
to
eat
except
some
wild
mushrooms
that
Hermione
had
collected
from
amongst
the
nearest
trees
and
stewed
in
a
billycan
.
After
a
couple
of
mouthfuls
Ron
had
pushed
his
portion
away
,
looking
queasy
;
Harry
had
only
persevered
so
as
not
to
hurt
Hermione
's
feelings
.
The
surrounding
silence
was
broken
by
odd
rustlings
and
what
sounded
like
crackings
of
twigs
:
Harry
thought
that
they
were
caused
by
animals
rather
than
people
,
yet
he
kept
his
wand
held
tight
at
the
ready
.
His
insides
,
already
uncomfortable
due
to
their
inadequate
helping
of
rubbery
mushrooms
,
tingled
with
unease
.
He
had
thought
that
he
would
feel
elated
if
they
managed
to
steal
back
the
Horcrux
,
but
somehow
he
did
not
;
all
he
felt
as
he
sat
looking
out
at
the
darkness
,
of
which
his
wand
lit
only
a
tiny
part
,
was
worry
about
what
would
happen
next
.
It
was
as
though
he
had
been
hurtling
toward
this
point
for
weeks
,
months
,
maybe
even
years
,
but
now
he
had
come
to
an
abrupt
halt
,
run
out
of
road
.
