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ЧОМУ ФОНД ОЛЕНИ ПІНЧУК І МОЗ УКРАЇНИ ПРОПАГУЮТЬ "СЕКСУАЛЬНІ УРОКИ"


ЕКЗИСТЕНЦІЙНО-ПСИХОЛОГІЧНІ ОСНОВИ ПОРУШЕННЯ СТАТЕВОЇ ІДЕНТИЧНОСТІ ПІДЛІТКІВ


Батьківський, громадянський рух в Україні закликає МОН зупинити тотальну сексуалізацію дітей і підлітків


Відкрите звернення Міністру освіти й науки України - Гриневич Лілії Михайлівні


Представництво українського жіноцтва в ООН: низький рівень культури спілкування в соціальних мережах


Гендерна антидискримінаційна експертиза може зробити нас моральними рабами


ЛІВИЙ МАРКСИЗМ У НОВИХ ПІДРУЧНИКАХ ДЛЯ ШКОЛЯРІВ


ВІДКРИТА ЗАЯВА на підтримку позиції Ганни Турчинової та права кожної людини на свободу думки, світогляду та вираження поглядів



Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands.

“Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts,” he blurted out.

“Really?” said Lupin, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.

“Some people reckon—” Harry hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, “some people reckon he’d do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.”

Lupin drained the goblet and pulled a face.

“Disgusting,” he said. “Well, Harry, I’d better get back to work. See you at the feast later.”

“Right,” said Harry, putting down his empty teacup.

The empty goblet was still smoking.

* * *

“There you go,” said Ron. “We got as much as we could carry.”

A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harry’s lap. It was dusk, and Ron and Hermione had just turned up in the common room, pink faced from the cold wind and looking as though they’d had the time of their lives.

“Thanks,” said Harry, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. “What’s Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?”

By the sound of it—everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko’s Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and many places besides.

“The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!”

“Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there’s a bit, look—”

“We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks—”

“Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up—”

“What did you do?” said Hermione, looking anxious. “Did you get any work done?”

“No,” said Harry. “Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in…” He told them all about the goblet. Ron’s mouth fell open.

“Lupin drank it?” he gasped. “Is he mad?”

Hermione checked her watch.

“We’d better go down, you know, the feast’ll be starting in five minutes.”

They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.

“But if he—you know”—Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around—“if he was trying to to poison Lupin—he wouldn’t have done it in front of Harry.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Harry as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even Hermione and Ron, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. Harry kept glancing at the staff table. Professor Lupin looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape’s eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural?

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

It had been such a pleasant evening that Harry’s good mood couldn’t even be spoiled by Malfoy, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the hall, “The Dementors send their love, Potter!”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.

“Why isn’t anyone going in?” said Ron curiously.


Читайте також:

  1. A chill that had nothing to do with the iced champagne was stealing through Harry’s chest.
  2. A dark figure came bustling toward them, and Harry saw a glint of silver to the light of their wands. They had found Gryffindor’s sword.
  3. A door to his left flew open and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed.
  4. A mixture of gratitude and shame welled up in Harry. Had Lupin forgiven him, then, for the terrible things he had said when they had last met?
  5. A motherly-looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Harry and the others.
  6. A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn’t move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.
  7. A plump witch carrying a smoking goblet entered the lift at that moment, and Mr. Weasley did not elaborate.
  8. A seam had split on Hermione’s bag. Harry wasn’t surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.
  9. 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.
  10. 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.
  11. A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain; Harry saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.
  12. A. Before you listen, say when you visit another city, what do you enjoy/not enjoy doing?




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<== попередня сторінка | наступна сторінка ==>
Harry, who had expected Lupin to deny that he’d done any such thing, was taken aback. | Harry peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.

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