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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти
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- Стр. 73/732
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"
Wait
till
it
gets
out
yeh
did
it
again
,
Harry
,
"
said
Hagrid
.
"
Escaped
him
,
fought
him
off
when
he
was
right
on
top
of
yeh
!
"
"
It
was
n't
me
,
"
said
Harry
flatly
.
"
It
was
my
wand
.
My
wand
acted
of
its
own
accord
.
"
After
a
few
moments
,
Hermione
said
gently
,
"
But
that
's
impossible
,
Harry
.
You
mean
that
you
did
magic
without
meaning
to
;
you
reacted
instinctively
.
"
"
No
,
"
said
Harry
.
"
The
bike
was
falling
,
I
could
n't
have
told
you
where
Voldemort
was
,
but
my
wand
spun
in
my
hand
and
found
him
and
shot
a
spell
at
him
,
and
it
was
n't
even
a
spell
I
recognized
.
I
've
never
made
gold
flames
appear
before
.
"
"
Often
,
"
said
Mr.
Weasley
,
"
when
you
're
in
a
pressured
situation
you
can
produce
magic
you
never
dreamed
of
.
Small
children
often
find
,
before
they
're
trained
--
"
"
It
was
n't
like
that
,
"
said
Harry
through
gritted
teeth
.
His
scar
was
burning
.
He
felt
angry
and
frustrated
;
he
hated
the
idea
that
they
were
all
imagining
him
to
have
power
to
match
Voldemort
's
.
No
one
said
anything
.
He
knew
that
they
did
not
believe
him
.
Now
that
he
came
to
think
of
it
,
he
had
never
heard
of
a
wand
performing
magic
on
its
own
before
.
His
scar
seared
with
pain
,
it
was
all
he
could
do
not
to
moan
aloud
.
Muttering
about
fresh
air
,
he
set
down
his
glass
and
left
the
room
.
As
he
crossed
the
yard
,
the
great
skeletal
thestral
looked
up
--
rustled
its
enormous
batlike
wings
,
then
resumed
its
grazing
.
Harry
stopped
at
the
gate
into
the
garden
,
staring
out
at
its
overgrown
plants
,
rubbing
his
pounding
forehead
and
thinking
of
Dumbledore
.
