Кадр из фильма «Гарри Поттер и Дары Смерти: часть 1»

Не прошло и трех месяцев как я прочел две трети последней книги из цикла о Гарри Поттере — теперь можно перевести дух и посмотреть первый фильм 🙂 — и какой же это кайф, товарищи!!! 🙂 Даже Эко меня так не увлекал!

Миссис Роулинг, прежде никуда особенно не спешившая, теперь разворачивает каждую сюжетную линию так лихо, как до нее не делал даже Шекспир! 🙂

Что ни глава — то драматичная развязка сюжетной линии, завязывавшейся предыдущие шесть книг, или ключевое событие, обостряющее и без того накаленную до предела обстановку.

Наконец, эта седьмая книга выводит весь цикл на качественно иной уровень, и я беру обратно свои слова о том, что это книга для детей и о том, что «Властелин колец» лучше 🙂

И в заключение — один из самых трогательных эпизодов первых 405 страниц.

He had disappeared into the unknown; all he could do was repeat the name of the destination and hope that it would suffice to take him there. The pain in his forehead pierced him, and the weight of the goblin bore down upon him; he could feel the blade of Gryffindor’s sword bumping against his back: Dobby’s hand jerked in his; he wondered whether the elf was trying to take charge, to pull them in the right direction, and tried, by squeezing the fingers, to indicate that that was fine with them. . . .

And then they hit solid earth and smelled salty air. Harry fell to his knees, relinquished Dobby’s hand, and attempted to lower Griphook gently to the ground.

“Are you all right?” he said as the goblin stirred, but Griphook merely whimpered.

Harry squinted around through the darkness. There seemed to be a cottage a short way away under the wide starry sky, and he thought he saw movement outside it.

“Dobby, is this Shell Cottage?” he whispered, clutching the two wands he had brought from the Malfoys’, ready to fight if he needed to. “Have we come to the right place? Dobby?”

He looked around. The little elf stood feet from him.

“DOBBY!”

The elf swayed slightly, stars reflected in his wide, shining eyes. Together, he and Harry looked down at the silver hilt of the knife protruding from the elf’s heaving chest.

“Dobby – no – HELP!” Harry bellowed toward the cottage, toward the people moving there. “HELP!”

He did not know or care whether they were wizards or Muggles, friends or foes; all he cared about was that a dark stain was spreading across Dobby’s front, and that he had stretched out his own arms to Harry with a look of supplication. Harry caught him and laid him sideways on the cool grass.

“Dobby, no, don’t die, don’t die –“

The elf’s eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words.

“Harry . . . Potter . . .”

And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.”

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