-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джоан Роулинг
-
- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
-
- Стр. 275/732
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
And
Dumbledore
thought
he
only
wanted
to
come
back
to
try
and
find
something
,
probably
another
founder
's
object
,
to
make
into
another
Horcrux
?
"
"
Yeah
,
"
said
Harry
.
"
But
he
did
n't
get
the
job
,
did
he
?
"
said
Hermione
.
"
So
he
never
got
the
chance
to
find
a
founder
's
object
there
and
hide
it
in
the
school
!
"
"
Okay
,
then
,
"
said
Harry
,
defeated
.
"
Forget
Hogwarts
.
"
Without
any
other
leads
,
they
traveled
into
London
and
,
hidden
beneath
the
Invisibility
Cloak
,
searched
for
the
orphanage
in
which
Voldemort
had
been
raised
.
Hermione
stole
into
a
library
and
discovered
from
their
records
that
the
place
had
been
demolished
many
years
before
.
They
visited
its
site
and
found
a
tower
block
of
offices
.
"
We
could
try
digging
in
the
foundations
?
"
Hermione
suggested
halfheartedly
.
"
He
would
n't
have
hidden
a
Horcrux
here
,
"
Harry
said
.
He
had
known
it
all
along
:
The
orphanage
had
been
the
place
Voldemort
had
been
determined
to
escape
;
he
would
never
have
hidden
a
part
of
his
soul
there
.
Dumbledore
had
shown
Harry
that
Voldemort
sought
grandeur
or
mystique
in
his
hiding
places
;
this
dismal
gray
corner
of
London
was
as
far
removed
as
you
could
imagine
from
Hogwarts
or
the
Ministry
or
a
building
like
Gringotts
,
the
Wizarding
bank
,
with
its
golden
doors
and
marble
floors
.
Even
without
any
new
ideas
,
they
continued
to
move
through
the
countryside
,
pitching
the
tent
in
a
different
place
each
night
for
security
.
Every
morning
they
made
sure
that
they
had
removed
all
clues
to
their
presence
,
then
set
off
to
find
another
lonely
and
secluded
spot
,
traveling
by
Apparition
to
more
woods
,
to
the
shadowy
crevices
of
cliffs
,
to
purple
moors
,
gorse-covered
mountainsides
,
and
once
a
sheltered
and
pebbly
cove
.
Every
twelve
hours
or
so
they
passed
the
Horcrux
between
them
as
though
they
were
playing
some
perverse
,
slow-motion
game
of
pass-the-parcel
,
where
they
dreaded
the
music
stopping
because
the
reward
was
twelve
hours
of
increased
fear
and
anxiety
.
Harry
's
scar
kept
prickling
.
It
happened
most
often
,
he
noticed
,
when
he
was
wearing
the
Horcrux
.
Sometimes
he
could
not
stop
himself
reacting
to
the
pain
.
