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Harry’s scar was becoming more and more painful. He stood up. At once, Kreacher hurried forward.

“Master has not finished his soup, would master prefer the savory stew, or else the treacle tart to which Master is so partial?”

“Thanks, Kreacher, but I’ll be back in a minute—er—bathroom.”

Aware that Hermione was watching him suspiciously, Harry hurried up the stairs to the hall and then to the first landing, where he dashed into the bathroom and bolted the door again. Grunting with pain, he slumped over the black basin with its taps in the form of open-mouthed serpents and closed his eyes…

He was gliding along a twilit street. The buildings on either side of him had high, timbered gables; they looked like gingerbread houses. He approached one of them, then saw the whiteness of his own long-fingered hand against the door. He knocked. He felt a mounting excitement…

The door opened: A laughing woman stood there. Her face fell as she looked into Harry’s face: humor gone, terror replacing it…

“Gregorovitch?” said a high, cold voice.

She shook her head: She was trying to close the door. A white hand held it steady, prevented her shutting him out…

“I want Gregorovitch.”

“Er wohnt hier nicht mehr!” she cried, shaking her head. “He no live here! He no live here! I know him not!”

Abandoning the attempt to close the door, she began to back away down the dark hall, and Harry followed, gliding toward her, and his long-fingered hand had drawn his wand.

“Where is he?”

“Das weiß ich nicht! He move! I know not, I know not!”

He raised his hand. She screamed. Two young children came running into the hall. She tried to shield them with her arms. There was a flash of green light—

“Harry! HARRY!”

He opened his eyes; he had sunk to the floor. Hermione was pounding on the door again.

“Harry, open up!”

He had shouted out, he knew it. He got up and unbolted the door; Hermione toppled inside at once, regained her balance, and looked around suspiciously. Ron was right behind her, looking unnerved as he pointed his wand into the corners of the chilly bathroom.

“What were you doing?” asked Hermione sternly.

“What d’you think I was doing?” asked Harry with feeble bravado.

“You were yelling your head off!” said Ron.

“Oh yeah… I must’ve dozed off or—”

“Harry, please don’t insult our intelligence,” said Hermione, taking deep breaths. “We know your scar hurt downstairs, and you’re white as a sheet.”

Читайте також:

1. A chill that had nothing to do with the iced champagne was stealing through Harry’s chest.
2. A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Sirius’s mother that hung in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harry’s mind. “I bet there has,” he said.
3. A whistling in Harry’s ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.
4. Aberforth Dumbledore stood blocking the corridor ahead, his wand held ready.
5. After a few minutes’ progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Harry’s ears.
6. An aged witch stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at him, showing mossy teeth. Harry backed away.
7. And Harry’s feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back onto the rug in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
8. And something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry’s eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew up over the treetops and into the sky.
9. And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.
10. And to Harry’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.
11. And to Harry’s horror, she withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement’s wall and handed it to Fudge.
12. And to Harry’s horror, Slughorn threw out an arm and seemed to scoop Snape out of thin air toward them.

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