"J. K. Rowling - The Prisoner of Azbakan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rowling J. K)

"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in
his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was
bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned
around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence.
The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was
empty.


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"'Choo lookin' at?" said Stan.

"There was a big black thing," said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the
gap. "Like a dog... but massive..."

He looked a-round at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling
of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stan abruptly.

"Nothing," said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the
Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too
easy for them.

"Woss your name?" Stan persisted.

"Neville Longbottom," said Harry, saying the first name that came into
his head. "So -- so this bus," he went on quickly, hoping to distract
Stan, "did you say it goes anywhere?"

"Yep," said Stan proudly, "anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't
do nuffink underwater. 'Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, ,You
did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," said Harry quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to
London?"

"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for fifteen you get 'or chocolate, and
for fifteen you get an 'ot water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of
your choice."

Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and
shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk,
with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.

There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside
the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed,