One of the robbers raised his axe against him; but the young priest
white lilies in her hair, and every flower leaf was half a pearl. Then
Natasha took the first note, her throat swelled, her chest rose, her eyes became serious. At that moment she was oblivious of her surroundings, and from her smiling lips flowed sounds which anyone may produce at the same intervals hold for the same time, but which leave you cold a thousand times and the thousand and first time thrill you and make you weep.
“Nagini,” said the cold voice, “you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all…but never mind, never mind…there is still Harry Potter.…”
And what were Ron and Hermione busy with? Why wasn't he, Harry, busy? Hadn't he proved himself capable of handling much more than them? Had they all forgotten what he had done? Hadn't it been he who had entered that graveyard and watched Cedric being murdered, and been tied to that tombstone and nearly killed?