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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 270/732
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"
Would
n't
...
come
.
"
Their
expressions
of
consternation
and
disappointment
made
Harry
feel
ashamed
.
It
had
been
a
nightmarish
experience
,
seeing
the
dementors
gliding
out
of
the
mist
in
the
distance
and
realizing
,
as
the
paralyzing
cold
choked
his
lungs
and
a
distant
screaming
filled
his
ears
,
that
he
was
not
going
to
be
able
to
protect
himself
.
It
had
taken
all
Harry
's
willpower
to
uproot
himself
from
the
spot
and
run
,
leaving
the
eyeless
dementors
to
glide
amongst
the
Muggles
who
might
not
be
able
to
see
them
,
but
would
assuredly
feel
the
despair
they
cast
wherever
they
went
.
"
So
we
still
have
n't
got
any
food
.
"
"
Shut
up
,
Ron
,
"
snapped
Hermione
.
"
Harry
,
what
happened
?
Why
do
you
think
you
could
n't
make
your
Patronus
?
You
managed
perfectly
yesterday
!
"
"
I
do
n't
know
.
"
He
sat
low
in
one
of
Perkins
's
old
armchairs
,
feeling
more
humiliated
by
the
moment
.
He
was
afraid
that
something
had
gone
wrong
inside
him
.
Yesterday
seemed
a
long
time
ago
:
Today
he
might
have
been
thirteen
years
old
again
,
the
only
one
who
collapsed
on
the
Hogwarts
Express
.
Ron
kicked
a
chair
leg
.
"
What
?
"
he
snarled
at
Hermione
.
"
I
'm
starving
!
All
I
've
had
since
I
bled
half
to
death
is
a
couple
of
toadstools
!
"
"
You
go
and
fight
your
way
through
the
dementors
,
then
,
"
said
Harry
,
stung
.
"
I
would
,
but
my
arm
's
in
a
sling
,
in
case
you
had
n't
noticed
!
"
