Dumbledore had convinced Harry1 not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk. Harry wished he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn't. He started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with laughter.
“You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad,” said Ron, when Harry told him about these dreams.
Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch2 had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.
They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other two, because Quidditch practice had started again.
Wood was working the team harder than ever. Even the endless rain that had replaced the snow couldn't dampen his spirits. The Weasleys complained that Wood was becoming a fanatic4, but Harry was on Wood's side. If they won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years. Quite apart from wanting to win, Harry found that he had fewer nightmares when he was tired out after training.
Then, during one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news. He'd just gotten very angry with the Weasleys, who kept dive-bombing each other and pretending to fall off their brooms.
“Will you stop messing around!” he yelled. “That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing6 this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!”
George Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.
“Snape's refereeing?” he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. “When's he ever refereed7 a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin.”
The rest of the team landed next to George to complain, too.
“It's not my fault,” said Wood. “We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us.”
Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch…
The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something Harry and Ron thought was very good for her.
“Don't talk to me for a moment,” said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, “I need to concen — ” He caught sight of Harry's face.
“What's the matter with you? You look terrible.”
Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister8 desire to be a Quidditch referee5.
“Don't play,” said Hermione at once.
“Say you're ill,” said Ron.
“Pretend to break your leg,” Hermione suggested.
“Really break your leg,” said Ron.
“I can't,” said Harry. “There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all.”
At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker10 Curse. He must have had to bunny hop3 all the way up to Gryffindor tower.
Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling. “What happened?” Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.
“Malfoy,” said Neville shakily. “I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on.”
“Go to Professor McGonagall!” Hermione urged Neville. “Report him!”
Neville shook his head.
“I don't want more trouble,” he mumbled11.
“You've got to stand up to him, Neville!” said Ron. “He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier.”
“There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that,” Neville choked out.
Harry felt in the pocket of his robes and pulled out a Chocolate Frog, the very last one from the box Hermione had given him for Christmas. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.
“You're worth twelve of Malfoy,” Harry said. “The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking12 Slytherin.”
Neville's lips twitched13 in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.
“Thanks, Harry… I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?”
As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.
“Dumbledore again,” he said, “He was the first one I ever—”
He gasped14. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.
“I've found him!” he whispered. “I've found Flamel! I told you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here — listen to this: ‘Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel'!”
Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.
“Stay there!” she said, and she sprinted15 up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms.
“I never thought to look in here!” she whispered excitedly. “I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”
“Light ?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking16 frantically17 through the pages, muttering to herself.
At last she found what she was looking for.
“I knew it! I knew it!”
“Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.
“Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker18 of the Sorcerer's Stone!”
This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.
“The what?” said Harry and Ron.
“Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look — read that, there.”
She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:
The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary19 substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir20 of Life, which will make the drinker immortal21.
There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted22 alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated23 his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).
“See?” said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. “The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!”
“A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!” said Harry. “No wonder Snape's after it! Anyone would want it.”
“And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,” said Ron. “He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?”
The next morning in Defense24 Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.
“I'm going to play,” he told Ron and Hermione. “If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them… it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.”
“Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field,” said Hermione.
As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased25 referee?
Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could — yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.
Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. This wasn't what you'd call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brought their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.
“Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis,” Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.
“I know,” Ron snapped. “Don't nag9.”
Back in the locker room, Wood had taken Harry aside.
“Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much.”
“The whole school's out there!” said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. “Even — blimey — Dumbledore's come to watch!”
Harry's heart did a somersault.
“Dumbledore?” he said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard.
Harry could have laughed out loud with relief He was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.
Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams marched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.
“I've never seen Snape look so mean,” he told Hermione. “Look — they're off. Ouch!”
Someone had poked26 Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.
“Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there.”
Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.
“Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?”
Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting27 fixedly28 at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk29, looking for the Snitch.
“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. “It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money — you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.”
Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.
“I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered30.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.”
“Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something.”
Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.
“I'm warning you, Malfoy — one more word—”
“Ron!” said Hermione suddenly, “Harry—”
“What? Where?”
Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps32 and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked33 toward the ground like a bullet.
“You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted34 some money on the ground!” said Malfoy.
Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.
“Come on, Harry!” Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape — she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps35 coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.
Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet36 shoot past him, missing him by inches — the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.
The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.
“Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!” shrieked37 Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.
Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn't believe it. He'd done it — the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, he saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped — then Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.
“Well done,” said Dumbledore quietly, so that only Harry could hear. “Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror… been keeping busy… excellent…”
Snape spat38 bitterly on the ground.
Harry left the locker room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to the broomshed. He couldn't ever remember feeling happier. He'd really done something to be proud of now — no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur39: Gryffindors running to lift him onto their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed.
Harry had reached the shed. He leaned against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He'd done it, he'd shown Snape…
And speaking of Snape…
A hooded40 figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible toward the forbidden forest. Harry's victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking41 into the forest while everyone else was at dinner — what was going on?
Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding42 silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the forest at a run. He followed.
The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided43 toward them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech44 tree.
He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves.
Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn't make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.
“… d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus…”
“Oh, I thought we'd keep this private,” said Snape, his voice icy. “Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all.”
Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling45 something. Snape interrupted him.
“Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?”
“B-b-but Severus, I—”
“You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step toward him.
“I-I don't know what you—”
“You know perfectly46 well what I mean.”
An owl31 hooted47 loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, ” — your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting.”
“B-but I d-d-don't—”
“Very well,” Snape cut in. “We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided48 where your loyalties49 lie.”
He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing. It was almost dark now, but Harry could see Quirrell, standing50 quite still as though he was petrified51.
“Harry, where have you been ?” Hermione squeaked52.
“We won! You won! We won!” shouted Ron, thumping53 Harry on the back. “And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin! I've waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens.”
“Never mind that now,” said Harry breathlessly. “Let's find an empty room, you wait ‘til you hear this…”
He made sure Peeves54 wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.
“So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy55 — and he said something about Quirrell's ‘hocus pocus’ — I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments56, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through—”
“So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” said Hermione in alarm.
“It'll be gone by next Tuesday,” said Ron.
丹伯多已经说服哈利不要再去找魔法之镜了，在剩下的圣诞节假期里，哈利一直都把那件隐形的披风藏在大衣箱的底部。哈利真希望能够忘记他在镜中所见到的一切，但他却不能够。他开始做恶梦，他一次又一次地梦见了他的爸妈消失在一道绿色的闪光中，而高空传来哈哈大笑的声音。
"你现在明白了吧，丹伯多是对的，那块镜子能够使你发疯。"当哈利对罗恩诉说他的恶梦的时候，罗恩就这样说。
荷米恩在假期结束的前一天回来了，她对事情总有着不同的看法，她对哈利连续三夜不在床上睡觉，而在学校里闲逛的事感到恐怖（如果他被费驰捉到的话）；而对哈利竟连尼可拉斯。弗兰马尔是谁都搞不清楚而大失所望。
虽然哈利想象自己在某处见过弗兰马尔这个名字，但是他们对在图书馆里寻找弗兰马尔的事不抱希望。新学期一开始，他们又将利用课间的十分钟到图书馆里查阅了。相对于其他两个人，哈利的时间则会少一些，因为飞行比赛训练又开始了。
伍德比以前更加拼命卖力地训练队员，甚至连绵不断的下雨天也不能抑制他的斗志。威斯里兄弟抱怨说伍德变得愈来愈疯狂，而哈利支待伍德。如果他们赢了下一场对海夫巴夫队的比赛，他们将可以一扫七年来的怨气，在豪斯杯锦标赛中战胜史林德林。除了想取得胜利之外，哈利发觉，由于训练后身体疲劳，他比以前少做恶梦了。
在一个特别多雨、泥泞的训练期间，伍德发脾气了。威斯里两兄弟互相作俯冲撞击，并装作从他们的扫帚上掉下来，伍德为此而对他们大发雷霆。
"停止瞎闹！"他大喊说，"这简直是败坏我们这次比赛的事情！
这次是史纳皮当裁判员，他将会千方百计找借口扣格林芬顿的分！"听到这些话，这次乔治。威斯里真的从扫帚上摔下来。
"史纳皮当裁判？"他满嘴含着泥，含糊不清地问，"他什么时候当过快迪斯比赛的裁判了？如果我们超越了史林德林队，他会觉得心里不甘的。"其他的队员也停在乔治的身旁，开始抱怨。
"这不是我的过错。"伍德说，"我们只要在比赛中不犯规不违例，史纳皮是没有理由可以刁难我们的。"那样最好不过了，哈利想，但还有另外一个原因让他不想由史纳皮当比赛的裁判员。
训练结束后，其他的队员像往常一样不开声讲话，哈利径自回到格林芬顿的公共休息室，发现罗恩和荷米恩在下着棋。下棋是荷米思唯一喜欢的东西，哈利和罗思也认为那对她十分有用。
"暂时不要说话。"哈利坐到罗恩的旁边时，罗恩就对他说。
"我需要集中精力。"他瞥了一下哈利，"你怎么啦？脸色难看极了。"哈利小声地告诉他们关于史纲皮想成为快迪斯比赛裁判员的险恶用心。
"不要飞了。"荷米恩立刻就说。
"你疯了。"罗恩说。
"假装你的脚受伤了。"荷米恩建议说。
"要不真受伤一次。"罗恩说。
"我不能这样做。"哈利说，"我们没有后备的搜索员，如果我退出的话，格林芬顿就不能比赛了。"正在这时，尼维尔摇摇摆摆地走进教室，人们在猜想，他是怎样认肖像洞那边爬过来的？因为他的双脚被人尽皆知的锁脚咒粘住了。他一定是像兔子一样一路单足跳上格林芬顿塔的。
除了荷米恩以外，大家都觉得好笑，她跳了起来，口中念了念解咒语。尼维尔的双脚分了开来站在那里，由于不习惯的原因，有点发抖。
"怎么啦？"荷米恩带着他跟哈利和罗恩坐在一起问道。
"马尔夫，"尼维尔颤抖着说，"我在图书馆外遇到他，他说他正找个人试一试他的咒语。""快！去找麦康娜教授！"荷米恩拉着尼维尔，"向他报告！"尼维尔摇了摇头。
"我不想再惹麻烦。"他咕哝着说。
"你应该站起来反抗他，尼维尔！"罗恩说，"他已经习惯了凌架于所有人的头上，我们没有理由向他屈服，事情没有这样简单。""不要告诉我说我在格林芬顿中不够勇敢了，马尔夫已经说过了。"尼维尔哽咽着说。
哈利把手伸进长袍的口袋，从里面拉出一只朱古力青蛙糖，那是荷米恩给他的圣诞礼物，只剩下最后一只了。他把朱古力青蛙糖给了尼维尔，他好像就要哭出声来了。
"你比马尔夫强十二倍，"哈利说，"是分类帽选你进格林芬顿队的，不是吗？
而马尔夫呢？他只能呆在臭气熏天的史林德林出来的。"尼维尔拆开青蛙糖，嘴角抽搐了一下，笑了。
"谢谢你，哈利……我想我该睡觉了……你要卡片吗？你不是正在收集吗？"尼维尔走开了，哈利看了看他给的"著名魔法"卡片。
"又是丹伯多，"他说，"他是我第一个……"
他喘着气，凝视了下卡片的背面，然后抬头望着罗恩和荷米恩。
"我找到他了！"他小声说，"我找到了弗兰马尔！我说过以前在某个地方见过弗兰马尔这个名字，是在来这儿的火车上——听着，丹怕多于1945年战胜了黑巫术巫师格林德瓦，发现了龙血的十二种用法，他与同伴一起为练金术作出了贡献，并因此而名声大噪——尼可拉斯。弗兰马尔！"荷米恩跳了起来。自从得知他们的第一次家庭作业的成绩以来，她从来没有这么兴奋过。
"留在这儿，不要走，"她说着，飞快地奔上通往女生宿舍的楼梯。哈利和罗恩还没有回过神来，她便抱着一堆书，冲了回来。
"我从来没想过要在这里面查找。"她低声说，"几星期前，我从图书馆借来消遣的。""消遣？"罗恩说，但是荷米恩制止了他再说下去，然后她便开始在书中查找，一边疯狂地翻动著书，一边不断地咕咬。
最后她找到了所要的东西。
"我知道了！我知道了！"
"我们现在可以说话了吗？"罗恩发脾气了，而荷米恩则对他爱理不理。
"尼可拉斯。弗兰马尔，"她激动地说，"他是至今已知的唯-一个点金石的制造者。"她的话并没有像她预料的那样使他们大吃一惊。
"什么？"哈利和罗恩疑惑地问。
"哦，你们两个不认得字吗？看呀，在这儿。"她把书推到他俩的面前，只见上面这样写着：古代的炼金术研究涉及到点金石的制造。点金石是一种有着巨大魔力的神奇物质，它能够将任何金属变成纯金，而且还能产生一种长生不老药，使吃了这种药的人长生不老。
几个世纪以来，有许多关于点金石的传闻，但现今存在的唯一一块为尼可拉斯。
弗兰马尔所有，他是一个出名的炼金家和戏剧爱好者，于去年刚过了他665岁的生日，他现在在德汶与他658岁的妻子过着平静的生活。
"明白了吧？"当哈利和罗思看完后，荷米恩说，"那只狗一定在守卫着弗兰马尔的点金石！我猜一定是有人千方百计要得到点金石，所以弗兰马尔便请他的好友丹伯多妥为保管。这就是他把点金石移出格林高斯的原因！""一块能制造黄金，又能使人长生不老的石头！"哈利说，"难怪史纳皮想将它占为已有！就是每个人都想要呢。""难怪我们不能在（近代魔法发展）中找到弗兰马尔，"罗恩说，"如果他真是665岁，那他则不尽是近代了。"第二天早上，在黑巫术防御术的训练中，人们正在演习着对抗狼人攻击的不同方法。而哈利和罗恩还在讨论着如果他们有一块点金石，将怎样好好地使用的事。
直到罗恩说他要买一支属于自己的快迪斯队，哈利才记起即将到来的比赛和史纳皮在其中任裁判的事。
"我决定要参加比赛，"他告诉罗恩和荷米恩。"如果我不参加的话，史林德林人会认为我害怕史纳皮呢。我要让他们知道我们的厉害……如果我们赢了，那可真的能让他们哭丧着脸。""只要你不被人家赶下场就好了。"荷米恩说。
比赛即将来临了，哈利不管与罗恩和荷米恩讲什么，都显得愈来愈紧张。他的队友们也不是很镇静。在豪斯杯锦标赛中战胜史林德林的想法真是太妙了，毕竟在过去七年中还没有人能够做到，但是现在有史纳皮这样一个不公正的裁判，他们是否能够做到呢？
哈利不知自己是不是故意这样料想，他不管走到哪里，都好像总要碰上史纳皮。
哈利许多次甚至怀疑，是不是史纳皮一直在跟踪他，想亲自逮住他。史纳皮真是太可怕了，药剂课也变成了哈利每周一次的酷刑，他是否有可能知道他们已经发现了关于点金石的秘密呢？哈利现在还看不出有这样的可能性——但是他有时有种可怕的念头——史纳皮能读懂他的心思。
当罗恩和荷米恩第二天下午在更衣室外祝他好运的时候，哈利知道，他们正担心着能否再见到他活着。真实这并不能算是一种安慰。哈利几乎没有听到伍德说什么鼓励的话，他穿上他的快迪斯赛战袍，拿起"灵光2000"。
罗恩和荷米恩不久便在尼维尔的旁边找到位子，尼维尔不明白为什么他们显得如此神情严肃、焦虑，而且把魔杖也带来了。哈利并不知道，他们得到马尔夫把锁脚咒施用到尼维尔的启示，已偷偷地把咒语学了下来。他们商量好了，如果史纳皮有任何伤害哈利迹象的话，便把咒语用在他的身上。
"好吧，不要忘记，咒语是罗可莫特莫莉斯。"荷米恩依声咕味道，这时罗恩把他的魔杖放进袖子里藏好。
"不要再哆嗦，我知道了。"罗恩厉声说。
回到更衣室，伍德把哈利拉到一旁。
"别强迫自己，波特，如果我们要早点抓住史尼斯球，现在就是时候了。抓紧在史纳皮能更嚣张地偏袒海夫巴夫之前结束比赛。""整个学校的人都在外面了，"弗来德。威斯里从门口向外盯着说，"甚至——哎呀——连丹伯多教授也出来观战。"哈利的心七上八下的。
"丹伯多？"他说着，向门口冲过去确定真假。弗来德说对了，银色的胡须，绝对是他。
哈利释然地大笑起来，他安全了。如果丹伯多教授在旁观看的话，史纳皮就没有办法试图伤害他了。
可能这也是当两队进场时，史纳皮满面不高兴的原因吧。
"我还没见过史纳皮如此狼狈过。"罗恩告诉荷米恩，"看！他们出来了。哎哟！"有人在他的后面推了一下，那人正是马尔夫。
"噢，对不起，我没有看见你在前面。"
马尔夫向克来伯和高尔咧着大嘴笑。
"猜猜这次波特将在他的扫帚上呆多久？谁想打赌？你呢，威斯里？"罗恩没有理会他，史纲皮刚才宣判由海夫巴夫进行罚球，因为乔治。威斯里用可尔夫球打了他。荷米恩握紧拳头，眯着眼死盯着哈利，他正像鹰一样在半空中周旋，寻找着史尼斯球。
"你知道他们怎样为格林芬顿选队员吗？"马尔夫几分钟后大声问，史纳皮这时又一次无缘无故地让海夫巴夫罚了一球。"他们专挑那些可怜虫。就像波特，没爹没娘；还有威斯里，穷得叮当响——你本应加入他们队伍的，尼维尔，因为你没头脑。"尼维尔红着脸把座位调过来面对着马尔夫。
"我比你强十二倍，马尔夫。"他结结巴巴地说。
马尔夫，克来伯和高尔大笑着，一边的罗恩还在全神贯注地注视着比赛，他说，"尼维尔，你自己应付他吧。""尼维尔，如果脑子是金子的话，你会比威斯里更穷，你知道我的意思吗？"罗恩的神经已经为哈利紧紧地绷着，他几乎快要崩溃了。
"我再一次警告你，马尔夫。"
"罗恩！"荷米恩突然喊着，"哈利他……"
"什么？在哪里？"
哈利在上空作了一个漂亮的俯冲，博得了人们的欢呼声。荷米思站了起来，双手捂着嘴，这时，哈利向着地面像子弹一样飞奔。
"你真幸运，威斯里，哈利好像发现了有些金子掉在地面！"马尔夫说。
罗恩咬紧牙，还未等马尔夫反应起来，罗恩已到了他的头上，把他摔到地上。
尼维尔迟疑了一下，攀爬过去帮忙。
"快点，哈利！"荷米恩尖叫着，跳上座位去看哈利，他正向史纳皮奔去——她根本没有发现马尔夫和罗恩在她的座位下翻滚，尼维尔和克朱伯、高尔也参战了，他们在地上一片混乱，拳脚交加，不断地嗥叫着。
而在空中，史纳皮举起他的扫帚，一个鲜红的东西从他的身边擦身而过，他与之失之交臂——而下一秒，哈利停止住俯冲，手臂得意洋洋地高高举起，史尼斯球已紧紧握在他的手中。
看台上的人群骚动起来，这是个纪录，没有能想到史尼斯球会这么快就被抓住。
"罗恩！罗恩！你在哪里？比赛已经结束了！哈利赢了！格林芬顿领先了。"荷米恩尖叫着，搂着前一排的帕维提。帕蒂在座位上舞上舞下。
哈利跳下扫帚，单脚着地。他也觉得难以置信，但他做到了——比赛已结束了。
还不到五分钟呢。当格林芬顿队降落到地上时。他看到史纳皮也落在不远处，面色苍白，紧抿着嘴——这时，他感到有只手搭在肩膀上，他向后一望，丹伯多微笑着看着他。
"做得好，"丹伯多说，小声得只有哈利才听得见。"见到你没有沉迷于那面镜子真好……太捧了……继续努力吧。"另一边，史纳皮难过地拍着地面。
哈利不久后独自一个人离开更衣室，准备把他的"灵光2000"放回扫帚房。他从没有这样高兴过。
因为他现在做了些值得高兴的事——没有人再敢说他虚有其名了。夜晚的空气现在闻起来也甜甜的。他越过潮湿的草丛，脑中不时浮现比赛的最后时刻，那是多么值得兴奋的场景呀，格林芬顿的队友把他抬到肩膀上，罗恩和荷米恩兴奋地跳上跳下，罗恩甚至还高兴得流了鼻血。
哈利走到扫帚房前面。他靠着木门望着霍格瓦彻城堡，窗户在日落中发着红光。
格林芬顿领先了，他做到了，他向史纳皮证明了——说到史纳皮——一个盗匪模样的人影向城堡前的台阶走下，躲躲闪闪地，向着禁林那边飞快地走去。哈利胜利的喜悦惭惭消失。他认出了那个潜行的人影。史纳皮趁着人们吃饭的时候走进禁林——发生了什么事呢？
哈利跳回他的"灵光2000"飞了起来，在城堡的上空滑翔，他看见史纳皮跑进禁林，连忙跟上。
树太密了，他看不见史纳皮往哪儿跑。
他在森林上空打转，飞得越来越低，几乎拂拭到树的顶技。他听到讲话的声音了，他向有人声处飞去，毫无声息地降落在高耸的掬树里面。
他小心地攀上一个树丫，紧抓住他的扫帚，想透过树丛向那边看。
在下面一片阴暗的空地上，史纳皮在那站着，但并不是独自一人，屈拉也在那里。哈利看不到他的脸，但他比以前更给巴了，哈利听得很费力。
"不……不知道，你……作为什么其……其它地方不去，而来……来这里碰头，史纳皮……""噢，我想把这件事做得神不知、鬼不觉。"史纳皮说，他的语气根冰冷，"学生本应不知道关于点金石的事的。"哈利向前倾了倾。屈拉正咕哝不清地说话，史纳皮打断了他。
"你找到制服哈格力那头野兽的方法了吗？"
"但——但是，史纳皮，我——"
"你不想把我当成你的敌人吧，屈拉？"史纳皮说着，向他走前一步。
"我——我不——知道你——"
"你十分清楚我的意思。"
一只猫头鹰大声鸣叫了一下，吓得哈利差点从树上掉下。他及时平衡好自己，听到史纳皮在说，"别?嗦了，我正等着呢。""但——但我不——不。"
"很好，"史纳皮说，"我们待会再聊，你好好考虑一下。"他戴上斗篷，急忙走出空地。天就快黑了，但哈利仍可看见屈拉像石头般地静静站在那儿。
"哈利，你去哪里了？"荷米恩尖叫着。
"我们赢了！我们赢了！"罗恩大叫着，用拳头垂击着哈利的背部。"我把马尔夫打得鼻青脸肿，而尼维尔独自顶了克来伯和高尔！
他现在仍感冒，但彼弗莱夫人说他很快就会好的。——说说史林德林吧！所有的人都在公共休息室等你，我们要开一个晚会。弗来德和乔治从厨房偷了一些蛋糕和食物。""暂时不要说这些吧，"哈利上气不接下气地说，"咱们找个空房，我有重要的事情要说……"哈利确定了皮维斯不在房间里后，关上房门，告诉他们他的所见所闻。
"我们猜对了，史纳皮想强迫屈拉帮他找点金石。他问屈拉是否知道制服那头野兽的方法，但屈拉犹豫了——我怀疑除了弗拉菲外，还有其他东西守卫着点金石，可能是一些魔咒。而如果史纳皮要通过的话，首先要让屈拉破除黑巫术咒语。""所以你的意思是，如果屈拉不和史纳皮合作的话，点金石便安全了。"荷米恩警觉地说。
"那块点金石下个星期就将被送走了。"罗恩说。
收听单词发音 |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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referee
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| n.裁判员．仲裁人，代表人，鉴定人 | |
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refereeing
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| [计]仲裁，审稿工作，稿件评审 | |
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refereed
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| vi.担任裁判（referee的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stinking
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| adj.臭的，烂醉的，讨厌的v.散发出恶臭( stink的现在分词 )；发臭味；名声臭；糟透 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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sprinted
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| v.短距离疾跑( sprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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legendary
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| adj.传奇（中）的，闻名遐迩的；n.传奇（文学） | |
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elixir
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| n.长生不老药，万能药 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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biased
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| a.有偏见的 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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squinting
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| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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fixedly
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| adv.固定地；不屈地，坚定不移地 | |
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hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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yelps
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| n.（因痛苦、气愤、兴奋等的）短而尖的叫声( yelp的名词复数 )v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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sneaking
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| a.秘密的，不公开的 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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45
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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47
hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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49
loyalties
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| n.忠诚( loyalty的名词复数 )；忠心；忠于…感情；要忠于…的强烈感情 | |
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50
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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51
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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52
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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53
thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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54
peeves
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| n.麻烦的事物，怨恨，触怒( peeve的名词复数 ) | |
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55
fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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56
enchantments
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| n.魅力( enchantment的名词复数 )；迷人之处；施魔法；着魔 | |
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