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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 269/732
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"
Yeah
...
maybe
,
"
said
Harry
.
He
had
been
sure
that
Voldemort
had
been
looking
for
a
way
around
the
problem
of
the
twin
cores
,
sure
that
Voldemort
sought
a
solution
from
the
old
wandmaker
...
and
yet
he
had
killed
him
,
apparently
without
asking
him
a
single
question
about
wandlore
.
What
was
Voldemort
trying
to
find
?
Why
,
with
the
Ministry
of
Magic
and
the
Wizarding
world
at
his
feet
,
was
he
far
away
,
intent
on
the
pursuit
of
an
object
that
Gregorovitch
had
once
owned
,
and
which
had
been
stolen
by
the
unknown
thief
?
Harry
could
still
see
the
blond-haired
youth
's
face
;
it
was
merry
,
wild
;
there
was
a
Fred
and
George-ish
air
of
triumphant
trickery
about
him
.
He
had
soared
from
the
windowsill
like
a
bird
,
and
Harry
had
seen
him
before
,
but
he
could
not
think
where
...
With
Gregorovitch
dead
,
it
was
the
merry-faced
thief
who
was
in
danger
now
,
and
it
was
on
him
that
Harry
's
thoughts
dwelled
,
as
Ron
's
snores
began
to
rumble
from
the
lower
bunk
and
as
he
himself
drifted
slowly
into
sleep
once
more
.
Early
next
morning
,
before
the
other
two
were
awake
,
Harry
left
the
tent
to
search
the
woods
around
them
for
the
oldest
,
most
gnarled
,
and
resilient-looking
tree
he
could
find
.
There
in
its
shadow
he
buried
Mad-Eye
Moody
's
eye
and
marked
the
spot
by
gouging
a
small
cross
in
the
bark
with
his
wand
.
It
was
not
much
,
but
Harry
felt
that
Mad-Eye
would
have
much
preferred
this
to
being
stuck
on
Dolores
Umbridge
's
door
.
Then
he
returned
to
the
tent
to
wait
for
the
others
to
wake
,
and
discuss
what
they
were
going
to
do
next
.
Harry
and
Hermione
felt
that
it
was
best
not
to
stay
anywhere
too
long
,
and
Ron
agreed
,
with
the
sole
proviso
that
their
next
move
took
them
within
reach
of
a
bacon
sandwich
.
Hermione
therefore
removed
the
enchantments
she
had
placed
around
the
clearing
,
while
Harry
and
Ron
obliterated
all
the
marks
and
impressions
on
the
ground
that
might
show
they
had
camped
there
.
Then
they
Disapparated
to
the
outskirts
of
a
small
market
town
.
Once
they
had
pitched
the
tent
in
the
shelter
of
a
small
copse
of
trees
and
surrounded
it
with
freshly
cast
defensive
enchantments
,
Harry
ventured
out
under
the
Invisibility
Cloak
to
find
sustenance
.
This
,
however
,
did
not
go
as
planned
.
He
had
barely
entered
the
town
when
an
unnatural
chill
,
a
descending
mist
,
and
a
sudden
darkening
of
the
skies
made
him
freeze
where
he
stood
.
"
But
you
can
make
a
brilliant
Patronus
!
"
protested
Ron
,
when
Harry
arrived
back
at
the
tent
empty-handed
,
out
of
breath
,
and
mouthing
the
single
word
,
dementors
.
"
I
could
n't
...
make
one
,
"
he
panted
,
clutching
the
stitch
in
his
side
.
