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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 326/732
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He
bent
and
snatched
it
up
,
but
now
the
room
was
full
of
the
snake
,
its
tail
thrashing
;
Hermione
was
nowhere
to
be
seen
and
for
a
moment
Harry
thought
the
worst
,
but
then
there
was
a
loud
bang
and
a
flash
of
red
light
,
and
the
snake
flew
into
the
air
,
smacking
Harry
hard
in
the
face
as
it
went
,
coil
after
heavy
coil
rising
up
to
the
ceiling
.
Harry
raised
his
wand
,
but
as
he
did
so
,
his
scar
seared
more
painfully
,
more
powerfully
than
it
had
done
in
years
.
"
He
's
coming
!
Hermione
,
he
's
coming
!
"
As
he
yelled
the
snake
fell
,
hissing
wildly
.
Everything
was
chaos
:
It
smashed
shelves
from
the
wall
,
and
splintered
china
flew
everywhere
as
Harry
jumped
over
the
bed
and
seized
the
dark
shape
he
knew
to
be
Hermione
--
She
shrieked
with
pain
as
he
pulled
her
back
across
the
bed
:
The
snake
reared
again
,
but
Harry
knew
that
worse
than
the
snake
was
coming
,
was
perhaps
already
at
the
gate
,
his
head
was
going
to
split
open
with
the
pain
from
his
scar
--
The
snake
lunged
as
he
took
a
running
leap
,
dragging
Hermione
with
him
;
as
it
struck
,
Hermione
screamed
,
"
Confringo
!
"
and
her
spell
flew
around
the
room
,
exploding
the
wardrobe
mirror
and
ricocheting
back
at
them
,
bouncing
from
floor
to
ceiling
;
Harry
felt
the
heat
of
it
sear
the
back
of
his
hand
.
Glass
cut
his
cheek
as
,
pulling
Hermione
with
him
,
he
leapt
from
bed
to
broken
dressing
table
and
then
straight
out
of
the
smashed
window
into
nothingness
,
her
scream
reverberating
through
the
night
as
they
twisted
in
midair
...
And
then
his
scar
burst
open
and
he
was
Voldemort
and
he
was
running
across
the
fetid
bedroom
,
his
long
white
hands
clutching
at
the
windowsill
as
he
glimpsed
the
bald
man
and
the
little
woman
twist
and
vanish
,
and
he
screamed
with
rage
,
a
scream
that
mingled
with
the
girl
's
,
that
echoed
across
the
dark
gardens
over
the
church
bells
ringing
in
Christmas
Day
...
And
his
scream
was
Harry
's
scream
,
his
pain
was
Harry
's
pain
...
that
it
could
happen
here
,
where
it
had
happened
before
...
here
,
within
sight
of
that
house
where
he
had
come
so
close
to
knowing
what
it
was
to
die
...
to
die
...
.
The
pain
was
so
terrible
...
ripped
from
his
body
...
.
But
if
he
had
no
body
,
why
did
his
head
hurt
so
badly
;
if
he
was
dead
,
how
could
he
feel
so
unbearably
,
did
n't
pain
cease
with
death
,
did
n't
it
go
...
The
night
wet
and
windy
,
two
children
dressed
as
pumpkins
waddling
across
the
square
,
and
the
shop
windows
covered
in
paper
spiders
,
all
the
tawdry
Muggle
trappings
of
a
world
in
which
they
did
not
believe
...
And
he
was
gliding
along
,
that
sense
of
purpose
and
power
and
rightness
in
him
that
he
always
knew
on
these
occasions
...
Not
anger
...
that
was
for
weaker
souls
than
he
...
but
triumph
,
yes
...
He
had
waited
for
this
,
he
had
hoped
for
it
...
