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The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew.

Then he saw Hermione’s foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black’s wand hand and Harry heard a faint clatter—

He fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw his own wand rolling across the floor; he threw himself toward it but—

“Argh!”

Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry’s arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry’s wand—

“NO YOU DON’T!” roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned—

“Get out of the way!” he shouted at Ron and Hermione.

They didn’t need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron’s wands. Ron crawled to the four poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg.

Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black’s heart.

“Going to kill me, Harry?” he whispered.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black’s chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black’s left eye and his nose was bleeding.

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

“I don’t deny it,” he said very quietly. “But if you knew the whole story.”

“The whole story?” Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. “You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all I need to know.”

“You’ve got to listen to me,” Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. “You’ll regret it if you don’t… You don’t understand…”

“I understand a lot better than you think,” said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. “You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… and you did that… you did it…”

Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry; Crookshanks leapt onto Black’s chest and settled himself there, right over Black’s heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.

“Get off,” he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black’s robes and wouldn’t shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To his right, Hermione gave a dry sob.

Harry stared down at Black and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand. So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black… If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business… If Black wanted to save it, that only proved he cared more for Crookshanks than for Harry’s parents…

Harry raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill Black. He had to kill Black. This was his chance…

The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron’s ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent.

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 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?
4. A motherly-looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Harry and the others.
5. A paralyzing terror filled Harry so that he couldn’t move or speak. His Patronus flickered and died.
6. 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.
7. 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.
8. 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.
9. A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain; Harry saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.
10. After a few minutes’ progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Harry’s ears.
11. After a good night’s sleep, Harry felt nearly back to normal.
12. After glancing once at this portrait, Professor McGonagall made an odd movement as though steeling herself, then rounded the desk to look at Harry, her face taut and lined.

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