"J. K. Rowling - The Goblet of Fire" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rowling J. K)

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curses, as far as Harry knew. In any case, Harry didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family
knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a few moments' pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss
worse than Hermione, and Fred and George, Ron's sixteen- year-old twin brothers, might think Harry
was losing his nerve. The Weasleys were Harry's favorite family in the world; he was hoping that
they might invite him to stay any time now (Ron had mentioned something about the Quidditch World
Cup), and he somehow didn't want his visit punctuated with anxious inquiries about his scar.
Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost
shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose
advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience
with Dark Magic....
And then the solution came to him. It was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldn't
believe it had taken so long - Sirius.
Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk; he pulled
a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote Dear Sirius, then
paused, wondering how best to phrase his problem, still marveling at the fact that he hadn't
thought of Sirius straight away. But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising - after all, he had
only found out that Sirius was his godfather two months ago.
There was a simple reason for Sirius's complete absence from Harry's life until then -
Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures called dementors,
sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped.
Yet Sirius had been innocent - the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by
Wormtail, Voldemort's supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead. Harry, Ron, and
Hermione knew otherwise, however; they had come face-to-face with Wormtail only the previous year,
though only Professor Dumbledore had believed their story.
For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the Dursleys at last,
because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been cleared. But the chance had been
snatched away from him - Wormtail had escaped before they could take him to the Ministry of Magic,
and Sirius had had to flee for his life. Harry had helped him escape on the back of a hippogriff
called Buckbeak, and since then, Sirius had been on the run. The home Harry might have had if
Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer. It had been doubly hard to return to
the Dursleys knowing that he had so nearly escaped them forever.
Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn't be with him. It
was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys
had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible,
coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under
the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out
that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather - for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell
them that Sirius was innocent.
Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he had been back at Privet Drive. Both
had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored
tropical birds. Hedwig had not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to
allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off again. Harry, on the other hand, had
liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand, and he hoped that, wherever Sirius
was (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself. Somehow,
Harry found it hard to imaging dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight, perhapse that was
why Sirius had gone South. Sirius's letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful
loose floorboards under Harry's bed, sounded chearful, and in both of them he had reminded Harry