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Hermione laughed derisively.

“Oh, it can’t be a reference to the fact Harry’s a great Seeker, that’s way too obvious,” she said. “There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!”

“I don’t think there’s anything hidden in the icing,” said Scrimgeour, “but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I’m sure?”

Harry shrugged, Hermione, however, answered. Harry thought that answering questions correctly was such a deeply ingrained habit she could not suppress the urge.

“Because Snitches have flesh memories,” she said.

“What?” said Harry and Ron together; both considered Hermione’s Quidditch knowledge negligible.

“Correct,” said Scrimgeour. “A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in case of a disputed capture. This Snitch”—he held up the tiny golden ball—“will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you.”

Harry’s heart was beating rather fast. He was sure that Scrimgeour was right. How could he avoid taking the Snitch with his bare hand in front of the Minister?

“You don’t say anything,” said Scrimgeour. “Perhaps you already know what the Snitch contains?”

“No,” said Harry, still wondering how he could appear to touch the Snitch without really doing so. If only he knew Legilimency, really knew it, and could read Hermione’s mind; he could practically hear her brain whizzing beside him.

“Take it,” said Scrimgeour quietly.

Harry met the Minister’s yellow eyes and knew he had no option but to obey. He held out his hand, and Scrimgeour leaned forward again and place the Snitch, slowly and deliberately, into Harry’s palm.

Nothing happened. As Harry’s fingers closed around the Snitch, its tired wings fluttered and were still. Scrimgeour, Ron, and Hermione continued to gaze avidly at the now partially concealed ball, as if still hoping it might transform in some way.

“That was dramatic,” said Harry coolly.

Both Ron and Hermione laughed.

“That’s all, then, is it?” asked Hermione, making to raise herself off the sofa.

“Not quite,” said Scrimgeour, who looked bad tempered now. “Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter.”

“What is it?” asked Harry, excitement rekindling.

Scrimgeour did not bother to read from the will this time.

“The sword of Godric Gryffindor,” he said.

Hermione and Ron both stiffened. Harry looked around for a sign of the ruby-encrusted hilt, but Scrimgeour did not pull the sword from the leather pouch, which in any case looked much too small to contain it.

“So where is it?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Unfortunately,” said Scrimgeour, “that sword was not Dumbledore’s to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artifact, and as such, belongs—”

“It belongs to Harry!” said Hermione hotly. “It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat—”

“According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor,” said Scrimgeour. “That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr. Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided.” Scrimgeour scratched his badly shaven cheek, scrutinizing Harry. “Why do you think—?”

“—Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?” said Harry, struggling to keep his temper. “Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall.”

“This is not a joke, Potter!” growled Scrimgeour. “Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“Interesting theory,” said Harry. “Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So this is what you’ve been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying—I was nearly one of them—Voldemort chased me across three countries, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there’s no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!”

“You go too far!” shouted Scrimgeour, standing up.

Читайте також:

1. A blank silence greeted Hermione’s words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted.
2. A few of the centaurs looked worried now. Hermione, however, gave a gasp.
3. A few of the Death Eaters laughed.
4. A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black’s face. Hermione fell silent.
5. A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.
6. A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione’s reappearance with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.
7. 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.
8. All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Hermione had put down her books.
9. Almost against his will he glanced from Ron to Hermione, both of whom looked devastated.
10. An odd, dreamy expression suddenly came over Hermione’s face. She slowly raised a hand and ran her fingers through her hair.
11. As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave Harry and Ron some surprising news.
12. At Harry’s words, all the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged darkly significant looks.

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