Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him.

“Well…” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re… they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them—when—you know—”

“We weren’t talking,” Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail…”

“It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.”

Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.

“Yes, but… they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold.”

“Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking skeptical. “I dunno… they don’t exactly mind breaking rules, do they?”

“Yes, but this is the law,” said Hermione, looking scared. “This isn’t some silly school rule… They’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron… maybe you’d better tell Percy…”

“Are you mad?” said Ron. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in.” He stared at the window through which Fred and George’s owl had departed, then said, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”

“D’you think it’s too early to go and see Professor Moody?” Hermione said as they went down the spiral staircase.

“Yes,” said Harry. “He’d probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he’ll think we’re trying to attack him while he’s asleep. Let’s give it till break.”

History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking Ron’s watch, having finally discarded his own, but Ron’s was moving so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working too. All three of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn’t taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.

When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.

“Professor Moody?” Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd.

“Hello, Potter,” growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody’s head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.

“Come in here.”

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<== попередня сторінка	\|	наступна сторінка ==>
Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.	\|	He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door.

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