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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и философский камень
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- Стр. 163/311
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"
I
thought
you
were
n't
speaking
to
us
?
"
said
Harry
.
"
Yes
,
do
n't
stop
now
,
"
said
Ron
,
"
it
's
doing
us
so
much
good
.
"
Hermione
marched
away
with
her
nose
in
the
air
.
Harry
had
a
lot
of
trouble
keeping
his
mind
on
his
lessons
that
day
.
It
kept
wandering
up
to
the
dormitory
where
his
new
broomstick
was
lying
under
his
bed
,
or
straying
off
to
the
Quidditch
field
where
he
'd
be
learning
to
play
that
night
.
He
bolted
his
dinner
that
evening
without
noticing
what
he
was
eating
,
and
then
rushed
upstairs
with
Ron
to
unwrap
the
Nimbus
Two
Thousand
at
last
.
"
Wow
,
"
Ron
sighed
,
as
the
broomstick
rolled
onto
Harry
's
bedspread
.
Even
Harry
,
who
knew
nothing
about
the
different
brooms
,
thought
it
looked
wonderful
.
Sleek
and
shiny
,
with
a
mahogany
handle
,
it
had
a
long
tail
of
neat
,
straight
twigs
and
Nimbus
Two
Thousand
written
in
gold
near
the
top
.
As
seven
o'clock
drew
nearer
,
Harry
left
the
castle
and
set
off
in
the
dusk
toward
the
Quidditch
field
.
Held
never
been
inside
the
stadium
before
.
Hundreds
of
seats
were
raised
in
stands
around
the
field
so
that
the
spectators
were
high
enough
to
see
what
was
going
on
.
At
either
end
of
the
field
were
three
golden
poles
with
hoops
on
the
end
.
They
reminded
Harry
of
the
little
plastic
sticks
Muggle
children
blew
bubbles
through
,
except
that
they
were
fifty
feet
high
.
Too
eager
to
fly
again
to
wait
for
Wood
,
Harry
mounted
his
broomstick
and
kicked
off
from
the
ground
.
What
a
feeling
--
he
swooped
in
and
out
of
the
goal
posts
and
then
sped
up
and
down
the
field
.
The
Nimbus
Two
Thousand
turned
wherever
he
wanted
at
his
lightest
touch
.
"
Hey
,
Potter
,
come
down
!
"
Oliver
Wood
had
arrived
.
He
was
carrying
a
large
wooden
crate
under
his
arm
.
Harry
landed
next
to
him
.
