The silver stag burst from his wand and charged: The Dementors scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight.

“It’s him, down there, down there, I saw his Patronus, it was a stag!”

The Dementors have retreated, the stars were popping out again and the footsteps of the Death Eaters were becoming louder; but before Harry in his panic could decide what to do, there was a grinding of bolts nearby, a door opened on the left-side of the narrow street, and a rough voice said: “Potter, in here, quick!”

He obeyed without hesitation, the three of them hurried through the open doorway.

“Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!” muttered a tall figure, passing them on his way into the street and slammed the door behind him.

Harry had had no idea where they were, but now he saw, by the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust bar of the Hog’s Head Inn. They ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a trickery wooden staircase, that they climbed as fast as they could. The stairs opened into a sitting room with a durable carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of a vacant sweetness.

Shouts reached from the streets below. Still wearing the Invisibility Cloak on, they hurried toward the grimy window and looked down. Their savior, whom Harry now recognized as the Hog’s Head’s barman, was the only person not wearing a hood.

“So what?” he was bellowing into one of the hooded faces. “So what? You send Dementors down my street, I’ll send a Patronus back at ’em! I’m not having ’em near me, I’ve told you that. I’m not having it!”

“That wasn’t your Patronus,” said a Death Eater. “That was a stag. It was Potter’s!”

“Stag!” roared the barman, and he pulled out a wand. “Stag! You idiot—Expecto Patronum!”

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<== попередня сторінка	\|	наступна сторінка ==>
Harry seized his folds, but it made no attempt to escape. The Summoning Charm had not worked on it.	\|	Something huge and horned erupted from the wand. Head down, it charged toward the High Street, and out of sight.

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