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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса
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- Стр. 32/965
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'
How
come
you
fell
over
,
son
?
'
said
Uncle
Vernon
,
in
an
unnaturally
quiet
voice
,
the
kind
of
voice
he
might
adopt
at
the
bedside
of
a
very
ill
person
.
'
T-tripped
,
'
said
Dudley
shakily
.
'
And
then
--
'
He
gestured
at
his
massive
chest
.
Harry
understood
:
Dudley
was
remembering
the
clammy
cold
that
filled
the
lungs
as
hope
and
happiness
were
sucked
out
of
you
.
'
Horrible
,
'
croaked
Dudley
.
'
Cold
.
Really
cold
.
'
'
OK
,
'
said
Uncle
Vernon
,
in
a
voice
of
forced
calm
,
while
Aunt
Petunia
laid
an
anxious
hand
on
Dudley
's
forehead
to
feel
his
temperature
.
'
What
happened
then
,
Dudders
?
'
'
Felt
...
felt
...
felt
...
as
if
...
as
if
...
'
'
As
if
you
'd
never
be
happy
again
,
'
Harry
supplied
dully
.
'
Yes
,
'
Dudley
whispered
,
still
trembling
.
'S
o
!
'
said
Uncle
Vernon
,
voice
restored
to
full
and
considerable
volume
as
he
straightened
up
.
'
You
put
some
crackpot
spell
on
my
on
so
he
'd
hear
voices
and
believe
he
was
--
was
doomed
to
misery
,
or
something
,
did
you
?
'
'
How
many
times
do
I
have
to
tell
you
?
'
said
Harry
,
temper
and
voice
both
rising
.
'
It
was
n't
me
!
It
was
a
couple
of
dementors
!
'
