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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 316/732
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For
a
moment
Harry
considered
suggesting
they
take
refuge
inside
it
,
but
before
he
could
say
anything
Hermione
murmured
,
"
Let
's
go
this
way
,
"
and
pulled
him
down
the
dark
street
leading
out
of
the
village
in
the
opposite
direction
from
which
they
had
entered
.
Harry
could
make
out
the
point
where
the
cottages
ended
and
the
lane
turned
into
open
country
again
.
They
walked
as
quickly
as
they
dared
,
past
more
windows
sparkling
with
multicolored
lights
,
the
outlines
of
Christmas
trees
dark
through
the
curtains
.
"
How
are
we
going
to
find
Bathilda
's
house
?
"
asked
Hermione
,
who
was
shivering
a
little
and
kept
glancing
back
over
her
shoulder
.
"
Harry
?
What
do
you
think
?
Harry
?
"
She
tugged
at
his
arm
,
but
Harry
was
not
paying
attention
.
He
was
looking
toward
the
dark
mass
that
stood
at
the
very
end
of
this
row
of
houses
.
Next
moment
he
had
sped
up
,
dragging
Hermione
along
with
him
;
she
slipped
a
little
on
the
ice
.
"
Harry
--
"
"
Look
...
Look
at
it
,
Hermione
...
"
"
I
do
n't
...
oh
!
"
He
could
see
it
;
the
Fidelius
Charm
must
have
died
with
James
and
Lily
.
The
hedge
had
grown
wild
in
the
sixteen
years
since
Hagrid
had
taken
Harry
from
the
rubble
that
lay
scattered
amongst
the
waist-high
grass
.
Most
of
the
cottage
was
still
standing
,
though
entirely
covered
in
dark
ivy
and
snow
,
but
the
right
side
of
the
top
floor
had
been
blown
apart
;
that
,
Harry
was
sure
,
was
where
the
curse
had
backfired
.
He
and
Hermione
stood
at
the
gate
,
gazing
up
at
the
wreck
of
what
must
once
have
been
a
cottage
just
like
those
that
flanked
it
.
"
I
wonder
why
nobody
's
ever
rebuilt
it
?
"
whispered
Hermione
.
"
Maybe
you
ca
n't
rebuild
it
?
"
Harry
replied
.
"
Maybe
it
's
like
the
injuries
from
Dark
Magic
and
you
ca
n't
repair
the
damage
?
"
He
slipped
a
hand
from
beneath
the
Cloak
and
grasped
the
snowy
and
thickly
rusted
gate
,
not
wishing
to
open
it
,
but
simply
to
hold
some
part
of
the
house
.
