Chapter 14 The Unforgivable Curses

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads.

“You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?” said Ron to Harry as they watched Hermione teaching Neville a Scouring Charm to remove the frog guts from under his fingernails.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Moody.”

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it - but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Indeed, whenever Harry saw the two of them together - at mealtimes, or when they passed in the corridors - he had the distinct impression that Snape was avoiding Moody's eye, whether magical or normal.

“I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad,” said Ron, his eyes misting over, “and bounced him all around his dungeon…”

The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.

“Been in the -”

“Library.” Harry finished her sentence for her. “C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats.”

They hurried into three chairs right in front of the teacher's desk, took out their copies of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and waited, unusually quiet. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.

“You can put those away,” he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, “those books. You won't need them.”

They returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited.

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

“Right then,” he said, when the last person had declared themselves present, “I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures - you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?”

There was a general murmur of assent.

“But you're behind - very behind - on dealing with curses,” said Moody. “So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark -”

“What, aren't you staying?” Ron blurted out.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled - the first time Harry had seen him do so. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.

“You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?” Moody said. “Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago.…Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledor.…One year, and then back to my quiet retirement.”

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

“So - straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking.”

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

“So…do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender.

“Er,” said Ron tentatively, “my dad told me about one.…Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?”

“Ah, yes,” said Moody appreciatively. “Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.”

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Harry felt Ron recoil slightly next to him - Ron hated spiders.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, “Imperio!”

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.

“Think it's funny, do you?” he growled. “You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?”

The laughter died away almost instantly.

“Total control,” said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. “I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats…”

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

“Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,” said Moody, and Harry knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. “Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

“The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

“Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?”

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, to Harry's slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

“Yes?” said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

“There's one - the Cruciatus Curse,” said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

“Your name's Longbottom?” he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

“The Cruciatus Curse,” said Moody. “Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,” he said, pointing his wand at the spider. “Engorgio!”

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody's desk as possible.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, “Crucio!”

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -

“Stop it!” Hermione said shrilly.”

Harry looked around at her. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry, following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

“Reducio,” Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

“Pain,” said Moody softly. “You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse.…That one was very popular once too.

“Right…anyone know any others?”

Harry looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Hermione's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

“Yes?” said Moody, looking at her.

“Avada Kedavra,” Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.

“Ah,” said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. “Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra.…the Killing Curse.”

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.

“Avada Kedavra!” Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

“Not nice,” he said calmly. “Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me.”

Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes (both of them) looked into his own. He could feel everyone else looking around at him too. Harry stared at the blank blackboard as though fascinated by it, but not really seeing it at all.…

So that was how his parents had died…exactly like that spider. Had they been unblemished and unmarked too? Had they simply seen the flash of green light and heard the rush of speeding death, before life was wiped from their bodies?

Harry had been picturing his parents’ deaths over and over again for three years now, ever since he'd found out they had been murdered, ever since he'd found out what had happened that night: Wormtail had betrayed his parents’ whereabouts to Voldemort, who had come to find them at their cottage. How Voldemort had killed Harry's father first. How James Potter had tried to hold him off, while he shouted at his wife to take Harry and run…Voldemort had advanced on Lily Potter, told her to move aside so that he could kill Harry…how she had begged him to kill her instead, refused to stop shielding her son…and so Voldemort had murdered her too, before turning his wand on Harry.…

Harry knew these details because he had heard his parents’ voices when he had fought the dementors last year - for that was the terrible power of the dementors: to force their victims to relive the worst memories of their lives, and drown, powerless, in their own despair.…

Moody was speaking again, from a great distance, it seemed to Harry. With a massive effort, he pulled himself back to the present and listened to what Moody was saying.

“Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it - you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

“Now, if there's no countercurse, why am I showing you? Because you've got to know. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

“Now…those three curses - Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus - are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills…copy this down.…”

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - “Did you see it twitch?” “- and when he killed it - just like that!”

They were talking about the lesson, Harry thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but he hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione.

“Hurry up,” she said tensely to Harry and Ron.

“Not the ruddy library again?” said Ron.

“No,” said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. “Neville.”

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

“Neville?” Hermione said gently.

Neville looked around.

“Oh hello,” he said, his voice much higher than usual. “Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm - I'm starving, aren't you?”

“Neville, are you all right?” said Hermione.

“Oh yes, I'm fine,” Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. “Very interesting dinner - I mean lesson - what's for eating?”

Ron gave Harry a startled look.

“Neville, what -?”

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

“It's all right, sonny,” he said to Neville. “Why don't you come up to my office? Come on…we can have a cup of tea.…”

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

“You all right, are you, Potter?”

“Yes,” said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, “You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending…well…come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you.”

Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.

“What was that about?” said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

“I don't know,” said Hermione, looking pensive.

“Some lesson, though, eh?” said Ron to Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. “Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right -”

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.

Hermione did not join in with Harry and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. Harry and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry, who had been thinking of nothing else all through dinner, now raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses himself.

“Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?” Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

“Yeah, probably,” said Ron. “But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later - look at his dustbins. Balderdash.”

The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.

“Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?” said Harry.

“I s'pose,” Ron groaned.

They went up to the dormitory to fetch their books and charts, to find Neville there alone, sitting on his bed, reading. He looked a good deal calmer than at the end of Moody's lesson, though still not entirely normal. His eyes were rather red.

“You all right, Neville?” Harry asked him.

“Oh yes,” said Neville, “I'm fine, thanks. Just reading this book Professor Moody lent me…”

He held up the book: Magical Water Plants of the Mediterranean.

“Apparently, Professor Sprout told Professor Moody I'm really good at Herbology,” Neville said. There was a faint note of pride in his voice that Harry had rarely heard there before. “He thought I'd like this.”

Telling Neville what Professor Sprout had said, Harry thought, had been a very tactful way of cheering Neville up, for Neville very rarely heard that he was good at anything. It was the sort of thing Professor Lupin would have done.

Harry and Ron took their copies of Unfogging the Future back down to the common room, found a table, and set to work on their predictions for the coming month. An hour later, they had made very little progress, though their table was littered with bits of parchment bearing sums and symbols, and Harry's brain was as fogged as though it had been filled with the fumes from Professor Trelawney's fire.

“I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean,” he said, staring down at a long list of calculations.

“You know,” said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, “I think it's back to the old Divination standby.”

“What - make it up?”

“Yeah,” said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

“Next Monday,” he said as he scribbled, “I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter.” He looked up at Harry. “You know her - just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up.”

“Right,” said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. “Okay…on Monday, I will be in danger of - er - burns.”

“Yeah, you will be,” said Ron darkly, “we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll…erm…”

“Lose a treasured possession,” said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.

“Good one,” said Ron, copying it down. “Because of…erm…Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?”

“Yeah…cool…” said Harry, scribbling it down, “because…Venus is in the twelfth house.”

“And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight.”

“Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet.”

“Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight.…”

They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly.

Staring around the room, trying to think of a kind of misfortune he hadn't yet used, Harry saw Fred and George sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy center of attention. There was something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment, and Harry was reminded of how they had sat together writing something back at the Burrow. He had thought then that it was another order form for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, but it didn't look like that this time; if it had been, they would surely have let Lee Jordan in on the joke. He wondered whether it had anything to do with entering the Triwizard Tournament.

As Harry watched, George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, “No - that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful…”

Then George looked over and saw Harry watching him. Harry grinned and quickly returned to his predictions - he didn't want George to think he was eavesdropping. Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.

“Hello,” she said, “I've just finished!”

“So have I!” said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.

Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

“Not going to have a very good month, are you?” she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.

“Ah well, at least I'm forewarned,” Ron yawned.

“You seem to be drowning twice,” said Hermione.

“Oh am I?” said Ron, peering down at his predictions. “I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff.”

“Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?” said Hermione.

“How dare you!” said Ron, in mock outrage. “We've been working like house-elves here!”

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“It's just an expression,” said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation.

“What's in the box?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Funny you should ask,” said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.

“Spew?” said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. “What's this about?”

“Not spew,” said Hermione impatiently. “It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.”

“Never heard of it,” said Ron.

“Well, of course you haven't,” said Hermione briskly, “I've only just started it.”

“Yeah?” said Ron in mild surprise. “How many members have you got?”

“Well - if you two join - three,” said Hermione.

“And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying ‘spew,’ do you?” said Ron.

“S-P-E-W!” said Hermione hotly. “I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto.”

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

“I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now.”

“Hermione - open your ears,” said Ron loudly. “They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!”

“Our short-term aims,” said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, “are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented.”

“And how do we do all this?” Harry asked.

“We start by recruiting members,” said Hermione happily. “I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting.”

There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the pair of them, and Harry sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

“Hedwig!” he shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.

“About time!” said Harry, hurrying after her.

“She's got an answer!” said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

“What does it say?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:

Harry -
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.
Sirius
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

“He's flying north?” Hermione whispered. “He's coming back?”

“Dumbledore's reading what signs?” said Ron, looking perplexed. “Harry - what's up?”

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

“I shouldn't've told him!” Harry said furiously.

“What are you on about?” said Ron in surprise.

“It's made him think he's got to come back!” said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. “Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you,” Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, “you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food.”

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

“Harry,” Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.

“I'm going to bed,” said Harry shortly. “See you in the morning.”

Upstairs in the dormitory he pulled on his pajamas and got into his four-poster, but he didn't feel remotely tired.

If Sirius came back and got caught, it would be his, Harry's, fault. Why hadn't he kept his mouth shut? A few seconds’ pain and he'd had to blab.…If he'd just had the sense to keep it to himself.…

He heard Ron come up into the dormitory a short while later, but did not speak to him. For a long time, Harry lay staring up at the dark canopy of his bed. The dormitory was completely silent, and, had he been less preoccupied, Harry would have realized that the absence of Neville's usual snores meant that he was not the only one lying awake.

除非你把尼维尔在药水里融了他第六个汽锅算作件大事，接下来的两天是没发生什么的。史纳皮教授的报复心似乎经过一个夏天后提高到一个新水平，他扣留了尼维尔让他给满满一桶的有角蛤蟆开肠剖肚，这让他回来时近乎精神崩溃了。

　　“你知道史纳皮为什么会如此坏脾气吗？”罗恩问哈利，他们在看荷米恩教尼维尔一种清理咒语，如何除去他指甲下的青蛙的肠子。

　　“知道。”哈利说，“是因为莫迪。”

　　众所周知，史纳皮的确想教邪术防御课，他第四年的竞争还是失败了，史纳皮向来讨厌他们的前任邪术教师，并且表露出他的厌恶，但他似乎令人惊讶地谨慎地藏起了对魔眼的憎恨，的确这样，无论何时哈利见到他们俩在一起——就餐时，或在走廊上相遇时——他明显地觉察到史纳皮在逃避莫迪的眼睛，不管是正常眼，还是魔眼。

　　“我想史纳皮有点害怕，你知道的。”哈利沉思着说。

　　“想想，要是莫迪把史纳皮变成一只有角蛤蟆。”罗恩说，他眼睛迷糊了，“把他在地牢里扔来扔去……”

　　格林芬顿的四年级学生热切盼望莫迪的第一堂课，他们午饭后，上课铃还没响就已早早到了，在教室外排好了队。

　　唯一不在场的是荷米恩，她刚好赶上上课。

　　“我在——”

　　“图书馆。”哈利替她说完，“快点，不然我们没好座位了。”

　　他们急忙在讲台面前的三张椅子上坐下，拿出《邪恶力量自卫指南》，分外安静地等候着。不久，他们听到莫迪特有的咯咯的脚步声从走廊上传进来，他进了教室，跟以往一样让人觉得陌生、害怕。他们只能看到他那只有爪的木脚从袍子下边伸出来。

　　“你们可以拿走那些东西。”他咆哮着，走向讲台坐了下来，“那些书，你们不会用到的。”

　　他们把书放回书包，罗恩看上去很兴奋。莫迪拿出注册本，把他扭曲的结满疤的脸上的灰长的鬃毛拔开，开始点名，他正常的眼睛逐步顺著名单往下扫视，而他的魔眼则转动着，盯住应到的每一个学生。

　　“好了。”当最后一个人应到，表明在场后，他说，“我从露平教授处拿到关于这个班的一封信，看来你们对怎么对付邪物有了扎实的基础——你们已学了博格特斯，红帽，金克朋克斯，格林弟罗，凯普斯和维尔欧维斯，对吗？”

　　学生大多认可了他的话。

　　“但你们落后了，非常落后，在对付咒语方面。”莫迪说，“因此，我想让你们了解巫师们可以怎样相互作法，我有一年时间来教你们如何对付邪——”

　　“什么，你不留下来吗？”罗恩脱口问道。

　　莫迪的魔眼转过来盯着罗恩，罗恩看上去很害怕，但莫迪一会儿就微笑了，——哈利第一次见他微笑，结果是使得他满是疤痕的脸看上去扭曲变形得更厉害了，然而，知道他会以微笑作友好的表示，总是种宽慰，罗恩显得放松多了。

　　“你该是亚瑟。威斯里的儿子吧？”莫迪说，“你爸爸几天前帮我摆脱了困境……是的，我只待一年，承蒙丹伯多错爱……一年，然后回去安静地养老。”

　　他的笑声嘶哑，青筋毕露的手轻拍了一下。

　　“因此，直接开始上咒语，它们形式多样，威力无穷，尊照魔法部的指示，我要教你们反邪术的技巧，然后到那为止，到了六年级，我才会让你们看非法毒咒是什么样子，但丹伯多教授对你们评价甚高，认为你们应付的来，我的意见是，你们越早知道你们防备的东西就越好，但你们如何保护自己，防备那些从未见过的东西呢？要对你们施恶咒的巫师是不会告诉你们他的行动的。他可不会当着你们的面，对你们友好、礼貌地施咒，你们得有所防备，必须警觉谨慎，布郎小姐，当我讲课时你得把那东西放到一边去。”

　　莱文登吓了一跳，脸红了，她刚才在桌子下面向普怀特展示刚完成的星卦图，莫迪的魔眼不仅能透过她的脑袋视物，而且可以穿过木头视物。

　　“那么，你们谁知道最受巫术法严惩的咒语是哪些吗？”

　　好几只手陆续地举起，包括罗恩和荷米恩的在内，莫迪指着罗恩，然而他的魔眼仍盯着莱文登。

　　“嗯。”罗恩试探地说，“我爸爸告诉有一个……它是叫英普流斯咒语，还是什么来的？”

　　“啊，对了。”莫迪赞赏他说，“你爸该知道那个，英普流斯咒语有段时间，给部里制造了许多麻烦。”

　　莫迪不对称的脚费力地支撑起他，站好了，他打开抽屉，拿出个玻璃罐，里面有三只巨大的巨蜘蛛，哈利感觉到罗恩在旁稍稍缩了一下——罗恩讨厌蜘蛛。

　　莫迪的手伸进罐里，抓住一只蜘蛛，放在掌上，以便所有的学生都能看到。

　　然后，他用魔杖指着它，说声，“英普流斯！”

　　蜘蛛搭在一根细丝线上，从莫迪掌中跃下，开始像荡高架一样前晃后晃，它僵直地伸出腿，往后翻转，线断了，蜘蛛落到桌上，它开始像车轮一样转着圈儿，莫迪猛挥一下魔杖，蜘蛛用两足立起起来，毫无疑问，它在跳踢达舞。

　　每个人——除了莫迪都大笑起来。

　　“你们觉得好笑吧？”他低吼着，“要是我向你们施咒，你们会高兴吗？”

　　笑声即刻停了下来。

　　“任由我摆布，”莫迪平静地说，蜘蛛蜷成一团，滚来滚去，“我可以让它从窗口跳出，溺死自己，或把它投进你们的喉咙……”

　　罗恩不禁颤抖了一下。

　　“几年前，许多巫师、法师被英普流斯咒语控制了，”莫迪说，哈利知道他讲的是福尔得摩特当权时的事，“部里的一项工作就是尽力分清谁是被动的，谁是主动的。”

　　“英普流斯咒语是可以破的，我会教你们怎么个破法，但这需要心力，并非每个人都有此心力，你能的话最好避开它，保持警惕！”他吼起来，大家都吓了一跳。

　　莫迪抬起来那耍杂技的蜘蛛，把它扔回罐子里，“还有谁知道非法咒语吗？”

　　荷米恩又举了手，让哈利有点惊讶的是尼维尔也举了手，他通常只在上他最善长的算卦课时才会主动举手。就连尼维尔也为自己的大胆而感到吃惊。

　　“是什么？”莫迪的魔眼转向尼维尔。

　　“有一个，叫克鲁希尔特斯咒语。”尼维尔的声音虽小却很清晰。

　　莫迪这回两眼紧盯着尼维尔。

　　“你是叫尼维尔吗？”他的魔眼低下去，看注册本。

　　尼维尔紧张地点点头，但莫迪并未再作询问，转向全班学生，他从罐中取出另一只蜘蛛，把它放在桌面，蜘蛛显然是吓得一动也不动。

　　“克鲁希尔特斯咒语，”莫迪说，“要点大些的东西，你们才可以理解。”他用魔杖指着蜘蛛，念道，“恩格里欧！”

　　蜘蛛膨胀起来，比一只塔兰图拉毒蜂还大，罗恩不再掩盖自己的惧怕，把椅子拉得离莫迪的桌子尽可能地远。

　　莫迪又挥起魔杖，指着蜘蛛说，“克鲁塞欧！”

　　话音刚落，蜘蛛把腿弯向身上，它滚动着，剧烈地扭曲着，左右摇晃，它没发出任何声音，但哈利肯定要是它能发声的话，一定是大声尖叫，莫迪挥动他的魔杖，蜘蛛开始颤抖，剧动着。

　　“停住！”荷米恩尖声说道。

　　哈利朝她看去，她不是在看蜘蛛，而是在看尼维尔，哈利顺着她的眼光，发现尼维尔紧握的双拳放在面前的桌子上，指关节发白，他睁大眼睛，吓坏了。

　　莫迪抬了抬魔杖，蜘蛛的腿松懈了，但它仍继续扭动着。

　　“勒得塞克。”莫迪念道，蜘蛛缩回原样后被放回了罐子。

　　“痛苦，”莫迪柔声说，“如果你能施克鲁希尔特斯咒语，你就不需要夹手指的刑具或刀子来折磨人……这种咒语也一度被滥用。”

　　“好了，谁知道别的咒语吗？”

　　哈利环顾四周，从大家脸上的表情，他猜想他们都想知道最后一只蜘蛛会有什么遭遇，荷米恩第三次举手时，她的手微微抖了一下。

　　“是什么？”莫迪望着她说。

　　“阿文的。卡德罗。”荷米恩低声说。

　　几个人，包括罗恩都不安地看着她。

　　“啊，对了，”莫迪说，一丝微笑扭曲了他缺了一边的嘴，“是的，最后一个最恶毒的咒语，阿文的。卡德罗……死亡的诅咒。”

　　他把手伸进罐里，就像知道自己的劫数一样，第三只蜘蛛在罐底疯狂地乱爬，极力躲避莫迪的手，但他捉住了蜘蛛，把它放在台面上，蜘蛛在木桌面上乱爬起来。

　　莫迪举起魔杖，哈利感到一阵突如其来的凶兆。

　　“阿文的。卡德罗！”莫迪吼道。

　　一道刺目的绿光闪过，伴随着一声巨响，好像有个看不见的庞然大物在空中咆哮，同时，蜘蛛翻过身来，没什么迹像，但明显是死了，几个女孩强忍住叫声，蜘蛛向罗恩滑过来，罗恩往后倒着，几乎弄翻了椅子。

　　莫迪把死蜘蛛落扫到地上。

　　“够毒的，”他平静地说，“不好受吧，没有与之相抗衡的咒语，什么也阻挡不了这个咒语，人们知道的唯一那个逃脱了死亡咒语的人，正坐在我面前。”

　　当莫迪的双眼望着他的眼睛时，他感觉到自己的脸红了，也觉察到别人也全都在望着他，哈利盯着空白的黑板，好像让黑板吸引住了，其实地根本没在看。

　　那就是他父母的死法……与那蜘蛛完全一样，他们身上也是没有留下任何蛛丝马迹吗？他们死的时候是不是只见到那闪逝的绿光，听到那瞬息而至的死亡之声吗？

　　自从哈利得知他父母是被谋杀以来，自从他得知那天晚上的遭遇时起，这已经三年了，他已一遍又一遍地想象他们的死亡经历：温太尔怎么向福尔得摩特告密，透露他父母的行踪，福尔得摩特在他们的小屋中发现了他们，福尔得摩特怎样光杀了他的爸爸，杰姆斯。波特怎样一边大叫他妻子带着哈利逃跑，一边竭力阻止福尔得摩特，还有福尔得摩特又怎样地赶上莉莉。波特，告诉她躲到一边让他杀死哈利，而她又怎样拒绝放开儿子，请求由她替哈利一死，这样在他的魔杖指向哈利之前，福尔得摩特也把她杀了……

　　哈利知道这些细节，因为去年他和温太尔搏斗时，听到了他父母的声音，那是温太尔可怕的法力：强迫他加害的人重现一生中最恐惧的记忆。然后毫无反抗地溺死在他们自己的绝望之海中……

　　莫迪又开口了，哈利觉的他的声音是从遥远的地方传来的，他作了极大的努力，把自己拖回到现实中，听莫迪说话。

　　“阿文的。卡德罗是一种需要强大法力相佐的咒语，你们要都拿出魔杖，向我施咒，我怀疑顶多只会让我流鼻血。但那设所谓，我在此可不是教你们怎么施咒的。”

　　“既然没有咒语与之相抗，我为什么还要演示给你们看呢？因为你们必须明白，什么是最恶毒的，你们不希望自己处于面对恶咒的情形吧，保持警惕！”他吼了一声，全班学生又吓了一跳。

　　“这三种咒语——阿文的。卡德罗。英普流斯和克鲁希尔特斯被称作不可饶恕的诅咒，对常人施加其中任一种咒语就足以在阿兹克班被判死刑，那就是你们要防范的，就是我要教给你们对抗的，你们必须有所准备，必须警惕，但首先，你们得时刻保持警惕，拿出羽毛笔，记下这些……”

　　剩下的时间他们都花在记关于这三种不可能饶恕的诅咒的笔记上了，谁也没说话，直到铃声响了，莫迪下课了，他们离开教室，随而进行了激烈的谈讨，多数人以恐惧的噪音讨论著咒语——“你看到它抽搐了吗？”，“他杀死蜘蛛时就像这样！”

　　他们讨论著课上的情景就像讨论特别表演一样，哈利心想。他并不觉的很有趣，似乎荷米恩也不觉的好玩。

　　“快点。”她对哈利和罗恩急匆匆地说。

　　“不是又去图书馆吧？”罗恩问。“不，”荷米恩简略答道，手指向一条小路，“尼维尔。”

　　尼维尔独自站在小路的半坡上，以一种和他看莫迪演示克鲁希尔特斯咒语时同样惊恐的神情盯着他对面的石墙。

　　“尼维尔？”荷米恩轻声说。

　　尼维尔转过来看他们。

　　“噢，你好？”他说，话音比往常高了许多，“很有趣的一课，是吗？

　　我在想晚餐吃些什么，我——我饿了，你们不饿吗？“

　　“尼维尔，你没事吧？”荷米恩说。

　　“没事，我很好。”尼维尔吐出句话，仍然不自然的高调子，“很有趣的晚餐——我是说课——吃些什么呢？”

　　罗恩对哈利投去惊愕的目光。

　　“尼维尔，怎么——”

　　一阵奇特的哈哈脚步声在他们身后传来，他们回过头看见莫迪教授跛着脚向他们走来，他们全都不说话了，敬畏地望着他，但他一开口，他们便发现莫迪的声音比他们听到的要低沉轻柔的多了。

　　“没事的，孩子。”他对尼维尔说，“来我办公室坐一坐，来吧……

　　我们可以喝杯茶……“

　　要和莫迪一起喝茶，这让尼维尔更加害怕，他既不走动也不说话。

　　莫迪的魔眼转向哈利，“你还好吧，波特？”

　　“我很好。”哈利几乎是挑战般答道。

　　莫迪接着说，“你必须知道，或许是有点残酷，但你得知道，假装是毫无意义的……好了……来吧……尼维尔，我有些你可能会觉得有趣的书。”

　　尼维尔求助地望着哈利、罗恩和荷米恩，但他们什么也没说，所以尼维尔别无选择，只得由莫迪的手搭着他的肩，随之而去。

　　“怎么回事？”罗恩望着尼维尔和莫迪拐过角落说。

　　“我不知道。”荷米恩神情忧郁。

　　“是上什么课吧？”罗恩对哈利说，他们往大厅走去，“弗来德和乔治说对了，莫迪他的确知道要讲些什么，看他施阿文的。卡德罗咒语，和那蜘蛛死时的情形——”

　　但罗恩一看到哈利脸上的神情就停住了，直到他们到达了大厅，他才再次开口，说他觉得今晚最好开始学习特雷络尼教授的预言，那可得花上几个小时。

　　荷米恩没有加入哈利与罗恩的谈话，她吃得奇快无比，然后又前往图书馆，哈利和罗恩走回格林芬顿塔，晚饭时一直没想别的事的哈利，自己又提出不可饶恕的咒语这一话题。

　　“部里的人要是知道我们看过咒语的演示，会找莫迪和丹伯多的麻烦吗？”哈利问，这时他们已走近胖大婶肖像了。

　　“啊，可能的。”罗恩说，“但丹伯多向来我行我素，而莫迪几年来一直麻烦不断，先是遭攻击，后来又被审问并检查他的垃圾箱。”

　　画像移向前，露出人口，他们爬了过去，进入拥挤喧闹的格林芬顿大厅。

　　“我们拿丹伯多的书吗？”哈利问。

　　“要吧。”罗恩低吼了声。

　　他们走到宿舍取书和图表，发现尼维尔正独自坐在床上看书，他比上莫迪的课时平静多了，虽说还未完全恢复常态，他双眼通红。

　　“没事吧，尼维尔？”哈利问他。

　　“没事。”尼维尔说，“我很好，谢了，我在看莫迪借我的书呢……”

　　他举起书，《中世纪神奇的水生植物及其性能》。

　　“显然，史纳皮教授告诉莫迪教授我药草学不错。”尼维尔说，话音中流露出一点自豪，这是哈利以前很少听到的，“他想我会喜欢这本书的。”

　　哈利想告诉尼维尔，史纳皮教授对他的评价倒是个振作尼维尔的好办法，因为尼维尔很少听到自己被称赞擅长什么的。这是露平教授采取的那种方法。

　　哈利和罗恩拿了他们的《拨开未来和迷雾》回到大屋，找了位置坐下，开始做下个月的预言作业，一小时过去了，他们没什么进展，虽然桌面上布满了写满数字和符号的细羊皮纸片，哈利意识模糊，似乎脑里充满了特雷络尼教授的火堆上冒出的烟。

　　“这玩意是什么意思，我一点头绪也没有。”他盯着一长串数据说，“你知道，”罗恩说，他的头发全在一边，因为在困惑时他一直用手拨弄着头发，“我想该用迪维尼雪那套老把戏了。”

　　“什么，瞎编啊？”，“没错。”罗恩说，他扫掉桌上杂乱的纸条，把笔蘸进墨水里，开始写了。

　　“下星期一，”他边说边写，“由于火星和木星相连带来晦气，我可能要犯咳嗽，”他抬头望着哈利，“你知道她的——只要讲一堆痛苦的事，她会接受的。”

　　“对啊，”哈利说，他把先前的努力成果揉成一团，把它抛过一群正在闲聊的一年级学生的脑袋，落到火堆里，“好……在星期一，我有——嗯——被烧伤的危险。”

　　“没错，你会那样的，”罗恩狠狠地说，“我们周一时又要看到史库斯了，好，周二，我会……嗯……”

　　“丢了一件珍贵的东西。”哈利翻着《拔开未来的迷雾》找到灵感。

　　“好主意，”罗恩说，写下了这条，“因为水星，你怎么不写让一个你以为是朋友的人从背后捅了一刀呢？”

　　“对……不错……”哈利说，赶紧记下为，“因为……金星在第十二宫。”

　　“星期三，我想，我会在争斗中惨败。”

　　“啊，我将和别人打一架，对了，我输掉赌注。”

　　“对了，就说你打赌，我打架会赢的……”

　　他们继续编了一小时的作业（后来逐渐变成悲剧性了），周围的人们都回去睡觉了，大厅慢慢空了起来，克劳圣克斯漫步走向他们，轻轻坐在一个空位上，她看着哈利，神情令人费解，仿佛她得知他们并未好好写作业。

　　哈利环顾屋子，竭力想再找出他还没用到的不幸，他看到弗来德和乔治靠着对面的墙坐在一起，头碰头地，羽毛笔放在外头，他们正专注地研究一小片牛皮纸，奇怪，弗来德和乔治居然会躲在角落里埋头学习？他们通常在中心地带，在喧闹的注意力焦点之处，他们研究那张纸条的样子有点诡秘。哈利想起了以前他们如何坐在一起，在纸上写些坏话，那次他原以为是为巫师爆笑弹的另一种命令公式，但这次看来不像，要是那样的话，他们一定会捉弄李·乔丹的，他怀疑那是不是与参加魔法三人对抗赛有关。

　　哈利正看着，乔治对弗来德摇摇头，用羽毛笔写了什么东西，然后悄声地说话，尽管声音很小，但在在这几乎空荡荡的屋子里能听到的，“别，——那会显得我们在谴责他，得小心点……”

　　乔治环顾一下，发现哈利在看着他，哈利咧嘴笑了，赶紧继续他的预言——他不想让乔治认为他在偷听，不久后，这对双胞弟兄卷起他们的牛皮纸，道了晚安，爬上了床。

　　大约弗来德和乔治离开后10分钟左右，画像后的洞开了，荷米恩爬进了大屋，一手拿着叠牛皮纸，一手拿着个盒子，盒子里的东西随着她的移动当当作响，克劳圣克斯弓着背，发泄高兴的细细喵喵声。

　　“你好。”她说，“我刚完成了。”

　　“我也做完了。”罗恩扔下羽毛笔，胜利地宣布。

　　“下个月的情况不太妙吧，”她嘲讽地说，克劳圣究斯错缩在她膝上。

　　“嗯，至少我作了预言。”罗恩打了个哈欠。

　　“看样子你两次失足溺水。”荷米恩说。

　　“我吗？”罗恩看着他的预言说，“我最好把其中的一个改成让一只横冲直撞的希普格利夫踩着了。”

　　“你不觉得这有点不言而喻你是在编造吗？”

　　“你敢这样说！”罗恩假装发怒，“我们在这像校养精灵一样苦干。”

　　荷米恩抬了抬眉头。

　　“不过是句套用的话。”罗恩赶紧说。

　　哈利刚刚写完他遭斩首身亡的预言，也放下了羽毛笔。

　　“盒子里是什么？”他指着问。

　　“没想到你会问，真好笑。”荷米思不怀好意地看着罗恩说，她揭开盖子，给他们看里面的东西。

　　里边约有50个徽章，颜色全都不同但都有S.P.E.W的字样。

　　“史纳皮？”哈利捡起一个徽章端详着，“干什么用的？”

　　“不是史纳皮，”荷米思不耐烦地说，“是S-P-E-W，代表着精灵福利促进会！”

　　“从没听说过。”罗恩说。

　　“哎，你当然没听过，”荷米恩立即说道，“我不过是刚刚创办了它。”“啊？”罗恩有点意外，“你招了多少会员了？”

　　“嗯，如果你们俩参加的话，一共三个。”荷米恩说。

　　“你以为我们想佩着这些徽章招摇过市，说‘spew’吗？”罗恩说。

　　“S-P－E-W，”荷米恩生气地说，“我要阻止虐待和我们同等的有魔法的生灵的暴行，发起改变他们在法律上的状况的运动，但还不是时候，那是我们宣言的主纲。”

　　她朝他们挥挥那叠牛皮纸，“我在图书馆作仔细的调研，奴役小精灵这一陋习可上溯到世纪以前，我就不信在此之前对它无动于衷。”

　　“荷米恩——听着，”罗恩大声说，“他们喜欢被役使，他们乐于受奴役！”

　　“我们的近期目标，”荷米恩声音比罗恩更大，似乎她刚才什么也没听见，“是保证佣人小精灵的工资及工作条件，我们的长期目标则包括修改法律，禁止滥用魔杖，以及捉进一个小精灵就要进入生灵规范监控部。”

　　“那我们怎么做这些工作？”哈利问。

　　“我们就从招募会员开始，”荷米恩高兴地说，“我要塞克斯兄弟俩加入，买个徽章，这个手续可以为我们的宣传活动筹集资金，罗恩，你是财务，我为你准备了个募捐箱，在楼上——哈利，你是秘书，所以呢，你得把我现在说的话全都记写来，作为我们的第一次会议记录。”

　　荷米恩说完后，朝他俩笑了，哈利坐着，又是被荷米恩惹恼了，又是被罗恩脸上的表情逗乐了，打破沉默的不是罗恩，他似乎一时间成了哑巴，而是一阵嗒嗒的敲窗的声音，哈利从空无一人的大屋望过去，月光下是个雪白的猫头鹰停在窗台上。

　　“海维！”他叫道，他从椅子上蹦起，穿过屋子，拉开了窗。

　　海维飞了进来，在屋里旋绕了一圈，落在哈利的预言作业本上。

　　“正是时候！”哈利向她急走过去。

　　“她带来了回音！”罗恩指着海维腿上绑着一片脏兮兮的纸条兴奋地说。

　　哈利赶紧解下纸条，坐下看信，海维拍着翅膀，在他膝上咕咕地叫着，“信上说了什么？”荷米恩屏息问道。

　　信相当简短，潦草，似乎是在仓促间写下的，哈利大声念道：“哈利：我立刻赶往北部，我在这儿听到了一系列奇怪的谣言，最新的一个说法是关于你的伤疤的事，如果你还痛的话，直接向丹伯多求助——他们说他让魔眼莫迪任课，那意味着即使别人没看过警示，他已看到了。

　　我将很快再与你联系，请问候罗恩和荷米恩，自己小心！

　　西里斯“

　　哈利抬头看看罗恩和荷米恩，他们俩也望着他。

　　“他要赶往北方？”荷米恩低声说，“他会回来吧。”

　　“丹伯多看了什么警示？”罗恩大为不解地问，“哈利——怎么回事？”

　　哈利用拳击着自己的额头，吓得海维赶紧从地膝上跳下。

　　“我不该告诉他的！”哈利怒道。

　　“你在说什么？”罗恩惊诧地问。

　　“这使得他认为自己得回来！”哈利重重地在桌子上击了一拳说道。海维愤怒地咕咕叫着，落到罗恩的椅背上，“他想我有麻烦了，所以他要回来，但我什么事也没有！我没东西喂你。”哈利朝海维叫道，而海维正张着嘴巴等着，“你要吃的话得去奥里路。”

　　海维很生气地望了他一眼，飞向开着的窗子，她飞过时在他的头用张开的翅膀拍了几下。

　　“哈利，”荷米恩安抚地说。

　　“我要睡了。”哈利简短地说，“明早见。”

　　在楼上的宿舍里，他套上睡衣，钻进四柱床，但他却不觉得累。

　　如果西里斯回来被逮住的话，那将是他哈利多嘴说错的话，为什么不能闭紧嘴巴呢？几秒钟的疼痛就泄露了秘密……要是没那么蠢，保住秘密就好了……过了一会儿，听到罗恩进了宿舍，但他没有对罗恩说什么，好年一段时间哈利躺在床上盯着黑乎乎的顶篷，宿舍里一片寂静，当他放松一点时，哈利发觉没听到平常尼维尔的鼾声，看来他并不是唯—一个睡不着的人。