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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня
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- Стр. 122/658
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"
So
...
whoever
conjured
the
Dark
Mark
...
"
said
Hermione
slowly
,
"
were
they
doing
it
to
show
support
for
the
Death
Eaters
,
or
to
scare
them
away
?
"
"
Your
guess
is
as
good
as
ours
,
Hermione
,
"
said
Mr.
Weasley
.
"
But
I
'll
tell
you
this
...
it
was
only
the
Death
Eaters
who
ever
knew
how
to
conjure
it
.
I
'd
be
very
surprised
if
the
person
who
did
it
had
n't
been
a
Death
Eater
once
,
even
if
they
're
not
now
...
.
Listen
,
it
's
very
late
,
and
if
your
mother
hears
what
's
happened
she
'll
be
worried
sick
.
We
'll
get
a
few
more
hours
sleep
and
then
try
and
get
an
early
Portkey
out
of
here
.
"
Harry
got
back
into
his
bunk
with
his
head
buzzing
.
He
knew
he
ought
to
feel
exhausted
:
It
was
nearly
three
in
the
morning
,
but
he
felt
wide-awake
-
wide-awake
,
and
worried
.
Three
days
ago
-
it
felt
like
much
longer
,
but
it
had
only
been
three
days
-
he
had
awoken
with
his
scar
burning
.
And
tonight
,
for
the
first
time
in
thirteen
years
,
Lord
Voldemort
's
mark
had
appeared
in
the
sky
.
What
did
these
things
mean
?
He
thought
of
the
letter
he
had
written
to
Sirius
before
leaving
Privet
Drive
.
Would
Sirius
have
gotten
it
yet
?
When
would
he
reply
?
Harry
lay
looking
up
at
the
canvas
,
but
no
flying
fantasies
came
to
him
now
to
ease
him
to
sleep
,
and
it
was
a
long
time
after
Charlie
's
snores
filled
the
tent
that
Harry
finally
dozed
off
.
Mr.
Weasley
woke
them
after
only
a
few
hours
sleep
.
He
used
magic
to
pack
up
the
tents
,
and
they
left
the
campsite
as
quickly
as
possible
,
passing
Mr.
Roberts
at
the
door
of
his
cottage
.
Mr.
Roberts
had
a
strange
,
dazed
look
about
him
,
and
he
waved
them
off
with
a
vague
"
Merry
Christmas
.
"
"
He
'll
be
all
right
,
"
said
Mr.
Weasley
quietly
as
they
marched
off
onto
the
moor
.
"
Sometimes
,
when
a
person
's
memory
's
modified
,
it
makes
him
a
bit
disorientated
for
a
while
...
and
that
was
a
big
thing
they
had
to
make
him
forget
.
"
They
heard
urgent
voices
as
they
approached
the
spot
where
the
Portkeys
lay
,
and
when
they
reached
it
,
they
found
a
great
number
of
witches
and
wizards
gathered
around
Basil
,
the
keeper
of
the
Portkeys
,
all
clamoring
to
get
away
from
the
campsite
as
quickly
as
possible
.
Mr.
Weasley
had
a
hurried
discussion
with
Basil
;
they
joined
the
queue
,
and
were
able
to
take
an
old
rubber
tire
back
to
Stoatshead
Hill
before
the
sun
had
really
risen
.
They
walked
back
through
Ottery
St.
Catchpole
and
up
the
damp
lane
toward
the
Burrow
in
the
dawn
light
,
talking
very
little
because
they
were
so
exhausted
,
and
thinking
longingly
of
their
breakfast
.
As
they
rounded
the
corner
and
the
Burrow
came
into
view
,
a
cry
echoed
along
the
lane
.
"
Oh
thank
goodness
,
thank
goodness
!
"
Mrs.
Weasley
,
who
had
evidently
been
waiting
for
them
in
the
front
yard
,
came
running
toward
them
,
still
wearing
her
bedroom
slippers
,
her
face
pale
and
strained
,
a
rolled-up
copy
of
the
Daily
Prophet
clutched
in
her
hand
.
