Chapter 24,25

Chapter 24 Rita Skeeter's Scoop

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been lately, many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations. Hermione's hair was bushy again; she confessed to Harry that she had used liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion on it for the ball, “but it's way too much bother to do every day,” she said matter-of-factly, scratching a purring Crookshanks behind the ears.

Ron and Hermione seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument. They were being quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Ron and Harry wasted no time in telling Hermione about the conversation they had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, but Hermione didn't seem to find the news that Hagrid was a half-giant nearly as shocking as Ron did.

“Well, I thought he must be,” she said, shrugging. “I knew he couldn't be pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible.…It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves.…It's just bigotry, isn't it?”

Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply scathingly, but perhaps he didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head disbelievingly while Hermione wasn't looking.

It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas was over - everybody except Harry, that is, who was starting (once again) to feel slightly nervous.

The trouble was that February the twenty-fourth looked a lot closer from this side of Christmas, and he still hadn't done anything about working out the clue inside the golden egg. He therefore started taking the egg out of his trunk every time he went up to the dormitory, opening it, and listening intently, hoping that this time it would make some sense. He strained to think what the sound reminded him of, apart from thirty musical saws, but he had never heard anything else like it. He closed the egg, shook it vigorously, and opened it again to see if the sound had changed, but it hadn't. He tried asking the egg questions, shouting over all the wailing, but nothing happened. He even threw the egg across the room - though he hadn't really expected that to help.

Harry had not forgotten the hint that Cedric had given him, but his less-than-friendly feelings toward Cedric just now meant that he was keen not to take his help if he could avoid it. In any case, it seemed to him that if Cedric had really wanted to give Harry a hand, he would have been a lot more explicit. He, Harry, had told Cedric exactly what was coming in the first task - and Cedric's idea of a fair exchange had been to tell Harry to take a bath. Well, he didn't need that sort of rubbishy help - not from someone who kept walking down corridors hand in hand with Cho, anyway. And so the first day of the new term arrived, and Harry set off to lessons, weighed down with books, parchment, and quills as usual, but also with the lurking worry of the egg heavy in his stomach, as though he were carrying that around with him too.

Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Ron said, the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire.

When they arrived at Hagrid ‘s cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.

“Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago,” she barked at them as they struggled toward her through the snow.

“Who're you?” said Ron, staring at her. “Where's Hagrid?”

“My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,” she said briskly. “I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”

“Where's Hagrid?” Harry repeated loudly.

“He is indisposed,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.

Soft and unpleasant laughter reached Harry's ears. He turned; Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins were joining the class. All of them looked gleeful, and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.

“This way, please,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed her, looking back over their shoulders at Hagrid's cabin. All the curtains were closed. Was Hagrid in there, alone and ill?

“What's wrong with Hagrid?” Harry said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank.

“Never you mind,” she said as though she thought he was being nosy.

“I do mind, though,” said Harry hotly. “What's up with him?”

Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear him. She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered.

Many of the girls “ooooohed!” at the sight of the unicorn.

“Oh it's so beautiful!” whispered Lavender Brown. “How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!”

The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.

“Boys keep back!” barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest. “They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it.…”

She and the girls walked slowly forward toward the unicorn, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching. The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot. Harry turned to Ron.

“What d'you reckons wrong with him? You don't think a skrewt -?”

“Oh he hasn't been attacked, Potter, if that's what you're thinking,” said Malfoy softly. “No, he's just too ashamed to show his big, ugly face.”

“What d'you mean?” said Harry sharply.

Malfoy put his hand inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded page of newsprint.

“There you go,” he said. “Hate to break it to you. Potter.…”

He smirked as Harry snatched the page, unfolded it, and read it, with Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville looking over his shoulder. It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE
Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.
Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.
An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being “very frightening.”
‘I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm,” says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. “We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything.”
Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed “Blast-Ended Skrewts,” highly dangerous crosses between manti-cores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.
“I was just having some fun,” he says, before hastily changing the subject.
As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.
Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.
While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Frid-wulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.
In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend - but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.
Harry finished reading and looked up at Ron, whose mouth was hanging open.

“How did she find out?” he whispered.

But that wasn't what was bothering Harry.

“What d'you mean, ‘we all hate Hagrid'?” Harry spat at Malfoy. “What's this rubbish about him” - he pointed at Crabbe - “getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!”

Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.

“Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career,” said Malfoy, his eyes glinting. “Half-giant…and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young.…None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all.…They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha.…”

“You -”

“Are you paying attention over there?”

Professor Grubbly-Planks voice carried over to the boys; the girls were all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. Harry was so angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in his hands as he turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too.

“I hope she stays, that woman!” said Parvati Patil when the lesson had ended and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. “That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like…proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters.…”

“What about Hagrid?” Harry said angrily as they went up the steps.

“What about him?” said Parvati in a hard voice. “He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?”

Parvati had been very cool toward Harry since the ball. He supposed that he ought to have paid her a bit more attention, but she seemed to have had a good time all the same. She was certainly telling anybody who would listen that she had made arrangements to meet the boy from Beauxbatons in Hogsmeade on the next weekend trip.

“That was a really good lesson,” said Hermione as they entered the Great Hall. “I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni -”

“Look at this!” Harry snarled, and he shoved the Daily Prophet article under Hermione's nose.

Hermione's mouth fell open as she read. Her reaction was exactly the same as Ron's.

“How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don't think Hagrid told her?”

“No,” said Harry, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. “He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about me, she went ferreting around to get him back.”

“Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball,” said Hermione quietly.

“We'd have seen her in the garden!” said Ron. “Anyway, she's not supposed to come into school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her.…”

“Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. “Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes listening to people.”

“Like you and Ron did, you mean,” said Hermione.

“We weren't trying to hear him!” said Ron indignantly. “We didn't have any choice! The stupid prat, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!”

“We've got to go and see him,” said Harry. “This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back…you do want him back?” he shot at Hermione.

“I - well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once - but I do want Hagrid back, of course I do!” Hermione added hastily, quailing under Harry's furious stare.

So that evening after dinner, the three of them left the castle once more and went down through the frozen grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They knocked, and Fang's booming barks answered.

“Hagrid, it's us!” Harry shouted, pounding on the door. “Open up!”

Hagrid didn't answer. They could hear Fang scratching at the door, whining, but it didn't open. They hammered on it for ten more minutes; Ron even went and banged on one of the windows, but there was no response.

“What's he avoiding us for?” Hermione said when they had finally given up and were walking back to the school. “He surely doesn't think we'd care about him being half-giant?”

But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take the Care of Magical Creatures classes. Malfoy was gloating at every possible opportunity.

“Missing your half-breed pal?” he kept whispering to Harry whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from Harry's retaliation. “Missing the elephant-man?”

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione was very surprised that Harry was going to go.

“I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet,” she said. “Really get to work on that egg.”

“Oh I - I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now,” Harry lied.

“Have you really?” said Hermione, looking impressed. “Well done!”

Harry's insides gave a guilty squirm, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages…whereas if he went into Hogsmeade, he might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.

He, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As they passed the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they saw Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He was very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the side of the ship, stretched out his arms, and dived, right into the lake.

“He's mad!” said Harry, staring at Krum's dark head as it bobbed out into the middle of the lake. “It must be freezing, it's January!”

“It's a lot colder where he comes from,” said Hermione. “I suppose it feels quite warm to him.”

“Yeah, but there's still the giant squid,” said Ron. He didn't sound anxious - if anything, he sounded hopeful. Hermione noticed his tone of voice and frowned.

“He's really nice, you know,” she said. “He's not at all like you'd think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me.”

Ron said nothing. He hadn't mentioned Viktor Krum since the ball, but Harry had found a miniature arm under his bed on Boxing Day, which had looked very much as though it had been snapped off a small model figure wearing Bulgarian Quidditch robes.

Harry kept his eyes skinned for a sign of Hagrid all the way down the slushy High Street, and suggested a visit to the Three Broomsticks once he had ascertained that Hagrid was not in any of the shops.

The pub was as crowded as ever, but one quick look around at all the tables told Harry that Hagrid wasn't there. Heart sinking, he went up to the bar with Ron and Hermione, ordered three butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta, and thought gloomily that he might just as well have stayed behind and listened to the egg wailing after all.

“Doesn't he ever go into the office?” Hermione whispered suddenly. “Look!”

She pointed into the mirror behind the bar, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman was talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom had their arms crossed and were looking rather menacing.

It was indeed odd. Harry thought, that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks on a weekend when there was no Triwizard event, and therefore no judging to be done. He watched Bagman in the mirror. He was looking strained again, quite as strained as he had that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared. But just then Bagman glanced over at the bar, saw Harry, and stood up.

“In a moment, in a moment!” Harry heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurried through the pub toward Harry, his boyish grin back in place.

“Harry!” he said. “How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?”

“Fine, thanks,” said Harry.

“Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?” said Bagman eagerly. “You couldn't give us a moment, you two, could you?”

“Er - okay,” said Ron, and he and Hermione went off to find a table.

Bagman led Harry along the bar to the end furthest from Madam Rosmerta.

“Well, I just thought I'd congratulate you again on your splendid performance against that Horntail, Harry,” said Bagman. “Really superb.”

“Thanks,” said Harry, but he knew this couldn't be all that Bagman wanted to say, because he could have congratulated Harry in front of Ron and Hermione. Bagman didn't seem in any particular rush to spill the beans, though. Harry saw him glance into the mirror over the bar at the goblins, who were all watching him and Harry in silence through their dark, slanting eyes.

“Absolute nightmare,” said Bagman to Harry in an undertone, noticing Harry watching the goblins too. “Their English isn't too good…it's like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup…but at least they used sign language another human could recognize. This lot keep gabbling in Gobblede-gook…and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Bladvak. It means ‘pickax.’ I don't like to use it in case they think I'm threatening them.”

He gave a short, booming laugh.

“What do they want?” Harry said, noticing how the goblins were still watching Bagman very closely.

“Er - well…” said Bagman, looking suddenly nervous. “They…er…they're looking for Barty Crouch.”

“Why are they looking for him here?” said Harry. “He's at the Ministry in London, isn't he?”

“Er…as a matter of fact, I've no idea where he is,” said Bagman. “He's sort of…stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he's ill. Apparently he's just been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone. Harry? Because Rita Skeeter's still poking around everywhere she can, and I'm willing to bet she'd work up Bartys illness into something sinister. Probably say he's gone missing like Bertha Jorkins.”

“Have you heard anything about Bertha Jorkins?” Harry asked.

“No,” said Bagman, looking strained again. “I've got people looking, of course…” (About time, thought Harry) “and it's all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin's house to go south and see an aunt…and she seems to have vanished without trace en route. Blowed if I can see where she's got to…she doesn't seem the type to elope, for instance…but still.…What are we doing, talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? I really wanted to ask you” - he lowered his voice - “how are you getting on with your golden egg?”

“Er…not bad,” Harry said untruthfully.

Bagman seemed to know he wasn't being honest.

“Listen, Harry,” he said (still in a very low voice), “I feel very bad about all this…you were thrown into this tournament, you didn't volunteer for it…and if…” (his voice was so quiet now, Harry had to lean closer to listen) “if I can help at all…a prod in the right direction…I've taken a liking to you…the way you got past that dragon!…well, just say the word.”

Harry stared up into Bagman's round, rosy face and his wide, baby-blue eyes.

“We're supposed to work out the clues alone, aren't we?” he said, careful to keep his voice casual and not sound as though he was accusing the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.

“Well…well, yes,” said Bagman impatiently, “but - come on. Harry - we all want a Hogwarts victory, don't we?”

“Have you offered Cedric help?” Harry said.

The smallest of frowns creased Bagman's smooth face. “No, I haven't,” he said. “I - well, like I say, I've taken a liking to you. Just thought I'd offer…”

“Well, thanks,” said Harry, “but I think I'm nearly there with the egg…couple more days should crack it.”

He wasn't entirely sure why he was refusing Bagman's help, except that Bagman was almost a stranger to him, and accepting his assistance would feel somehow much more like cheating than asking advice from Ron, Hermione, or Sirius.

Bagman looked almost affronted, but couldn't say much more as Fred and George turned up at that point.

“Hello, Mr. Bagman,” said Fred brightly. “Can we buy you a drink?”

“Er…no,” said Bagman, with a last disappointed glance at Harry, “no, thank you, boys…”

Fred and George looked quite as disappointed as Bagman, who was surveying Harry as though he had let him down badly.

“Well, I must dash,” he said. “Nice seeing you all. Good luck, Harry.”

He hurried out of the pub. The goblins all slid off their chairs and exited after him. Harry went to rejoin Ron and Hermione.

“What did he want?” Ron said, the moment Harry had sat down.

“He offered to help me with the golden egg,” said Harry.

“He shouldn't be doing that!” said Hermione, looking very shocked. “He's one of the judges! And anyway, you've already worked it out - haven't you?”

“Er…nearly,” said Harry.

“Well, I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!” said Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving. “I hope he's trying to help Cedric as much!”

“He's not, I asked,” said Harry.

“Who cares if Diggory's getting help?” said Ron. Harry privately agreed.

“Those goblins didn't look very friendly,” said Hermione, sipping her butterbeer. “What were they doing here?”

“Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman,” said Harry. “He's still ill. Hasn't been into work.”

“Maybe Percy's poisoning him,” said Ron. “Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he'll be made head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Hermione gave Ron a don't-joke-about-things-like-that look, and said, “Funny, goblins looking for Mr. Crouch.…They'd normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”

“Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though,” said Harry. “Maybe they need an interpreter.”

“Worrying about poor ‘ickle goblins, now, are you?” Ron asked Hermione. “Thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?”

“Ha, ha, ha,” said Hermione sarcastically. “Goblins don't need protection. Haven't you been listening to what Professor Binns has been telling us about goblin rebellions?”

“No,” said Harry and Ron together.

“Well, the're quite capable of dealing with wizards,” said Hermione, taking another sip of butterbeer. “They're very clever. They're not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves.”

“Uh-oh,” said Ron, staring at the door.

Rita Skeeter had just entered. She was wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails were painted shocking pink, and she was accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She bought drinks, and she and the photographer made their way through the crowds to a table nearby. Harry, Ron, and Hermione glaring at her as she approached. She was talking fast and looking very satisfied about something.

“…didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights…what nonsense…he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? ‘Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman…’ Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo - we just need to find a story to fit it -”

“Trying to ruin someone else's life?” said Harry loudly.

A few people looked around. Rita Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jeweled spectacles as she saw who had spoken.

“Harry!” she said, beaming. “How lovely! Why don't you come and join-?”

“I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,” said Harry furiously. “What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?”

Rita Skeeter raised her heavily penciled eyebrows.

“Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my-”

“Who cares if he's half-giant?” Harry shouted. “There's nothing wrong with him!”

The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, “How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know. Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?”

Hermione stood up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it were a grenade.

“You horrible woman,” she said, through gritted teeth, “you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, wont they? Even Ludo Bagman -”

“Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand,” said Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fell on Hermione. “I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl…not that it needs it -” she added, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair.

“Let's go,” said Hermione, “c'mon. Harry - Ron…”

They left; many people were staring at them as they went. Harry glanced back as they reached the door. Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill was out; it was zooming backward and forward over a piece of parchment on the table.

“She'll be after you next, Hermione,” said Ron in a low and worried voice as they walked quickly back up the street.

“Let her try!” said Hermione defiantly; she was shaking with rage. “I'll show her! Silly little girl, am I? Oh, I'll get her back for this. First Harry, then Hagrid…”

“You don't want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter,” said Ron nervously. “I'm serious, Hermione, she'll dig up something on you -”

“My parents don't read the Daily Prophet. She can't scare me into hiding!” said Hermione, now striding along so fast that it was all Harry and Ron could do to keep up with her. The last time Harry had seen Hermione in a rage like this, she had hit Draco Malfoy around the face. “And Hagrid isn't hiding anymore! He should never have let that excuse for a human being upset him! Come on!”

Breaking into a run, she led them all the way back up the road, through the gates flanked by winged boars, and up through the grounds to Hagrid's cabin.

The curtains were still drawn, and they could hear Fang barking as they approached.

“Hagrid!” Hermione shouted, pounding on his front door. “Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being -”

The door opened. Hermione said, “About it-!” and then stopped, very suddenly, because she had found herself face-to-face, not with Hagrid, but with Albus Dumbledore.

“Good afternoon,” he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.

“We er we wanted to see Hagrid,” said Hermione in a rather small voice.

“Yes, I surmised as much,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. “Why don't you come in?”

“Oh…um…okay,” said Hermione.

She, Ron, and Harry went into the cabin; Fang launched himself upon Harry the moment he entered, barking madly and trying to lick his ears. Harry fended off Fang and looked around.

Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.

“Hi, Hagrid,” said Harry.

Hagrid looked up.

“'Lo,” he said in a very hoarse voice.

“More tea, I think,” said Dumbledore, closing the door behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, drawing out his wand, and twiddling it; a revolving tea tray appeared in midair along with a plate of cakes. Dumbledore magicked the tray onto the table, and everybody sat down. There was a slight pause, and then Dumbledore said, “Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?”

Hermione went slightly pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her and continued, “Hermione, Harry, and Ron still seem to want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door.”

“Of course we still want to know you!” Harry said, staring at Hagrid. “You don't think anything that Skeeter cow - sorry, Professor,” he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.

“I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said. Harry,” said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

“Er-right,” said Harry sheepishly. “I just meant-Hagrid, how could you think we'd care what that-woman-wrote about you?”

Two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

“Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. “I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it -”

“Not all of ‘em,” said Hagrid hoarsely. “Not all of ‘em wan me ter stay.”

“Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time,” said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. “Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?”

“Yeh - yeh're not half-giant!” said Hagrid croakily.

“Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!” Harry said furiously. “Look at the Dursleys!”

“An excellent point,” said Professor Dumbledore. “My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery….”

“Come back and teach, Hagrid,” said Hermione quietly, “please come back, we really miss you.”

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard.

Dumbledore stood up. “I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday,” he said. “You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all.”

Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fangs ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, “Great man, Dumbledore…great man.…”

“Yeah, he is,” said Ron. “Can I have one of these cakes, Hagrid?”

“Help yerself,” said Hagrid, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. “Ar, he's righ', o’ course - yeh're all righ'…I bin stupid…my ol’ dad woulda bin ashamed o’ the way I've bin behavin'.…” More tears leaked out, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, “Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here…”

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder. Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

“Tha was taken jus’ after I got inter Hogwarts,” Hagrid croaked. “Dad was dead chuffed…thought I migh’ not be a wizard, see, ‘cos me mum…well, anyway. ‘Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really…but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year.…”

“Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job…trusts people, he does. Gives ‘em second chances…tha's what sets him apar’ from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren'…well…all tha’ respectable. But some don understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh…there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an’ say - I am what I am, an’ I'm not ashamed. ‘Never be ashamed,’ my ol’ dad used ter say, ‘there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin’ with.’ An’ he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin’ with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones…I'll give her big bones.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another nervously; Harry would rather have taken fifty Blast-Ended Skrewts for a walk than admit to Hagrid that he had overheard him talking to Madame Maxime, but Hagrid was still talking, apparently unaware that he had said anything odd.

“Yeh know wha, Harry?” he said, looking up from the photograph of his father, his eyes very bright, “when I firs’ met you, you reminded me o’ me a bit. Mum an’ Dad gone, an’ you was feelin’ like yeh wouldn’ fit in at Hogwarts, remember? Not sure yeh were really up to it…an’ now look at yeh, Harry! School champion!”

He looked at Harry for a moment and then said, very seriously, “Yeh know what I'd love. Harry? I'd love yeh ter win, I really would. It'd show ‘em all…yeh don’ have ter be pureblood ter do it. Yeh don have ter be ashamed of what yeh are. It'd show ‘em Dumbledore's the one who's got it righ', lettin’ anyone in as long as they can do magic. How you doin’ with that egg, Harry?”

“Great,” said Harry. “Really great.”

Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.

“Tha's my boy…you show ‘em, Harry, you show ‘em. Beat ‘em all.”

Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. Harry went back to the castle later that afternoon with Ron and Hermione, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid's whiskery face as he had imagined Harry winning the tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on Harry's conscience that evening, and by the time he had got into bed, he had made up his mind - it was time to shelve his pride and see if Cedric's hint was worth anything.

　　到了第二天，所有的人都起得很晚。格林芬顿大房间里来也静了下来，那些无精打采的谈话不时地被哈欠打断。荷米恩的头发又乱得像草丛，她向哈利解释说为了参加舞会，她用了大量的定型发水，但如果每天都这样做的话就太麻烦了。她一边说一边把一卷发拨到耳后。

　　罗恩和荷米恩此时似乎心领神会，谁也不再争吵了。虽然之前他们相处得一团糟，但现在两人对彼此都很友好。一见到荷米恩，罗恩和哈利就抢着告诉她两人偷听到的玛西姆夫人和哈格力的谈话。然而荷米恩听到哈格力是半个巨人时，她似乎并不像罗恩那样惊奇。

　　“既然这样，我想他一定是吧。”她耸耸肩说，“我知道他一定不是个真正的巨人，因为他们有二十英尺。不过说实话，这些巨人的歇斯底里不会全都是那么可怕的，这只不过是人们的偏见罢了，就好像他们对在月圆之夜会变狼的人的偏见一样，对吗？”

　　罗恩似乎想给她苛刻的反驳，但他觉得摇头就足以表达他的不赞同了，所以就没说什么，可能他不想引起另一场争吵吧。

　　眼看二月二十四日一天天地逼近，可他却没能从金蛋里找到半点线索。每当他走进宿舍，他就把金蛋从大皮箱里拿出来打开，全神贯注地看着它，心里希望会有一点头绪。他使劲地回想除了这三十种像音乐般拉扯的声音，是否还有别的声音，但是，什么也听不到。无奈，他只好把蛋合上，用力摇一遍后再打开，想要找出声音的变化。他还试着大声提问金蛋，又哭又喊，可是一点作用也没有。他甚至把蛋在屋里扔来扔去，虽然他并不希望这样做会有一点点帮助。

　　哈利没有忘记塞德里克给他的忠告。不过，只要可以不用，哈利是不会接受塞德里克的忠告的，因为他不怎么喜欢塞德里克。无论如何，如果塞德里克真的想帮他的话，就应该把话说清楚一点。

　　他，哈利，早就告诉塞德里克第一个任务将会有些什么了。可是塞德里克以要求哈利洗一个澡作交换的条件。哼，他才不要一个老是和卓牵着手在走廊里荡来荡去的人的忠告呢。不知不觉，新学期又到了。哈利像往常一样，背着重重的书、羊皮纸和笔上学，不过，那只蛋的问题还是缠着他，像那些书、纸一样沉沉地压在他身上。

　　大地上的积雪依然很厚，温室的窗全都蒙上了一层水蒸气，从草药室往外看，什么也看不到。罗恩没有去注意听魔法生灵的保护这门课，而是注意天气去了。

　　当他们走到哈格力的小屋时，他们看见一个披着浓密友发，下巴凸出的老巫婆站在小屋的前门。

　　当他们艰难地在雪地里一步步地向她走过去时，那女人大声地吼道：“快点，铃在五分钟以前就响过了。”

　　“你是谁？”罗恩瞪着她说，“哈格力哪去了？”

　　“我是格兰比。朋克教授，”她简短地说，“是暂时教你们魔法动物保护的老师。”

　　“哈格力去哪了？”荷米恩大声地重复了一遍。

　　“他身体不舒服。”格兰比。朋克教授说。

　　一阵令人讨厌的笑声传到荷米恩耳朵里，他一转身，看到杰高。马尔夫和史林德林的其他学生正走过来。看到格兰比。朋克教授，他们一点也不感到奇怪，反而看上去还很高兴。

　　“走这边。”格兰比。朋克教授带着他们绕过小围场。那里有几匹比尔贝顿马在冷得打颤。哈利、罗恩和荷米恩一边跟着她，一边回过头来望着哈格力的小屋。小屋所有的窗帘都拉下了。哈格力在里面吗？他是病了还是一个人在里面呢？

　　“哈格力生了什么病？”哈利赶上格兰比。朋克教授问道。

　　“这个你不用管。”她说，看上去她觉得哈利很烦人。

　　“我要管。”哈利热切地说，“他到底是怎么了？”

　　格兰比。朋克教授装作没听见，她领着他们走过小围场，围场里的比克斯贝克顿斯马正在树林边上的一棵树下挤在一起取暖，在那棵树下，拴着一只美丽的独角兽。

　　女孩们看到那只独角兽，都“哇嘿”、“哇嘿”地叫起来。

　　“啊，它多漂亮啊！”莱文敦。布朗喃喃自语地说，“她是怎样逮到这只独角兽的呢！要知道，它们可是很难逮的呀！”

　　那独角兽白得如此耀眼，以至于周围的雪在它的对照下看起来像灰色了。它用金色的蹄子紧张地踏着土地，长着角的头不屈地甩来甩去。

　　“男孩们都回来！”格兰比。朋克教授大声喊道，伸出手一把抓住哈利。“独角兽喜欢女性摸它们，女孩子们走上前去，小心点。

　　来，别紧张。“

　　她和女孩们慢慢地靠近独角兽，留下一群男孩站在围场的篱笆旁瞪眼看着。

　　正在这个时候，哈利转身对罗恩说：“你估计他发生了什么事呢？你不会认为是一个史库斯——？”

　　“噢，他没有被人袭击，并非像你想的那样。”马尔夫轻轻地说，“他只不过是为他那张又大又丑的脸感到羞耻，不敢出现见人罢了。”

　　“这话是什么意思。”哈利尖声说。

　　马尔夫把手伸进罩衫口袋里，摸出一张折好的剪报。

　　“看这个，”他说，“我不想向你透露的，波特……”

　　他得意地笑着。哈利接过纸打开读起来。罗恩、西摩斯、迪恩和尼维尔都探过头来看，这是一篇附带照片的文章，照片中的哈格力看上去很狡诈。

　　丹伯多犯了大错特约记者理特。史姬特报导——霍格瓦彻学校，一所培养魔法人才的学校，其古怪校长艾伯斯。丹伯多，从来不害怕雇用一些有争议的职员。今年九月，他雇用声名狼藉的的“魔眼”莫迪担任防黑巫术课的教授，这个决定使魔法界大吃一惊，因为谁都知道莫迪有这样一个习惯：只要他在场，无论谁突然乱动，他都会袭击那个人。不过，刚开始接受教授职位时，“魔眼”莫迪看上去还算负责和平易近人。

　　曾经承认在教到第三年就遭到驱赶的霍格瓦彻学校教师哈格力，在丹伯多校长的提供下，早就得到一个职位。但是，去年哈格力就利用校长的影响力，又获得了担任“魔法动物保护学”教授的职位，完全不理会当时众多的更有资格的应征者。

　　凭着新到手的权利，再加上一副凶神恶煞的模样，哈格力曾接二连三地用怪物恐吓他的学生。到目前为止，已有多名学生承认哈格力在上课时使许多同学致残。而丹伯多对这些情况却睁一只眼闭一只眼。

　　“我曾经被一只希皮格利狒袭击过，我朋友卫森。克来伯则被一只弗伯乌特狠狠咬过。”杰高。马尔夫，一个四年级学生说，“我们恨透了哈格力，但我们都很害怕他，所以我们什么也不敢说。”

　　哈格力并不打算停止他的恐吓战。相反，上个月在与一个先知日报的记者的谈话中，他承认正在饲养“尾巴燃火的史库斯”，一种介于螳螂和火蟹之间的高度危险的动物。培育新品种无庸置疑要在学校部门的严格监控下进行，以保证对麾法动物的控制和规范。

　　但是，哈格力似乎认为他可以超越这些管制。

　　“我只不过是对此感兴趣罢了。”他说，然后就很快地转移话题。

　　似乎这些还不足以证明哈格力不是个纯血统的男巫，《先知日报》现在正把越来越多的证据公之于众，以揭发哈格力。他不是个男巫，甚至不是一个真正的人，他妈妈，我们可以排斥地说，只不过是个叫弗利乌法巨人，没有人知道她的下落。

　　这些嗜血成性、残忍的巨人由于在上个世纪发生内战，现在正濒临绝种。剩下的都成了无名氏，他们都是一些应该为其在暴政时期的屠杀行为负责任的暴徒。

　　许多为‘那个人’服务的巨人被奥挪士杀死，但弗利乌法不在其中。她可能逃到其他山脉，加入了别的巨人集团。然而，从哈格力在教学中表现出的暴戾行为来看，弗利乌法的这个儿子看来已经继承了她的残忍的本性。

　　在另一方面，哈格力和那本《你知道谁将垮台》的作者却是亲密的朋友。这一来就为他妈妈的躲藏找到了保护伞。也许哈利·波特并不知道这个关于他的巨人朋友的不愉快的事实。——但艾伯斯。丹伯多有责任确保哈利·波特和其他的学生明白和这个半巨人相处的危险性。

　　哈利读完后抬头看着罗恩，发现他嘴巴张得大大的。

　　“她是怎么找到的？”罗恩悄悄地说。

　　但这并不是哈利所关心的。

　　“我们都恨透了哈格力，你这是什么意思？”哈利向马尔夫唾了一口。然后指着克来伯说道：“瞧这些垃圾——被一只‘弗伯乌特’狠狠咬了一口！它们连牙齿也没有呢。”

　　克来伯痴痴地暗笑，很明显，他非常满意自己的杰作。

　　“太棒了，我想这白痴的教书生涯要因此结束啦。”马尔夫两眼发光地说，“半巨人——我猜他年轻时一定喝了一瓶史哥利高。根本没有父母会喜欢这个的，他们会担心他吃了他们的孩子，哈哈……”

　　“你们在用心看吗？”

　　格兰比。朋克教授的声音传过来。女孩们现在都围着独角兽抚摸它。哈利生气得连握纸的手都颤抖了，他转过身看着独角兽，实际上他什么也看不到。而格兰比。朋克教授正大声数着独角兽身上的魔性，好让那些男孩们也能听到。

　　“我希望她会留下来教我们，那个女人。”当下了课后孩子们回城堡吃午饭时，帕沃提。帕提说，“她上的魔法动物保护课比我想象的好多了。这种课就应该有相应的动物，比如独角兽，而不是怪物。”

　　“那哈格力怎么办？”哈利生气地说。

　　“他？”帕维提生硬地说，“他可以继续做他的猎物看守人，不是吗？”

　　自从舞会以后，帕维提就对哈利很冷淡。他想他本应该多照顾她的，不过她看上去也玩得很开心呀。她当时还兴高采烈地告诉别人关于她如何安排下周末赴那个比尔贝顿男孩的约会呢。

　　“这真是很精彩的一节课，”荷米恩说。他们边走进了大厅。

　　“在格兰比。朋克教授告诉我之前，我一点也不知道独角……”

　　“看看这个吧。”哈利打断她，把那篇文章在她鼻子底下扬了扬。

　　荷米恩读了那篇文章，她的反应就和罗恩一样。“那个可怕的史姬特女人是怎么知道的？你不会认为这是哈格力告诉她的吧？”

　　“不。”哈利走到桌子旁，气鼓鼓地一屁股坐在椅子上。“他没跟我们说曾经告诉她，对吗？我猜她一定是因为哈格力不肯告诉她我的情况而气疯了，所以才去搜查哈格力的资料来报复他。”

　　“也许是她在舞会上听到了他和玛西姆夫人的谈话。”荷米恩平静地说。

　　“我们在花园里没看见过她！”罗恩说，“总之，她不可以再来学校了。哈格力说校长已禁止她……”

　　“也许她当时穿了隐身衣，躲在暗处偷听人们讲话。她最拿手做这种事情了，不是吗？”哈利盛了一碟鸡汤，由于生气，他把汤溅得到处都是。

　　“就像你和罗恩做得那样吗？”荷米恩说。

　　“我们没有偷听。”罗恩愤愤地说，“我们没办法呀！那白痴当时谈到他妈妈时声音响得每个人都能听到。”

　　“我们必须去看看他。”哈利说，“今晚占卜课后就去。告诉他我们都想他回来……你一定想他回来的，是吗？”他看着荷米恩。

　　“我——好吧，上了一节这么生动的课，我可不会假装其中什么好的变化也没有，不过，我当然希望哈格力会回来。”荷米恩由于畏惧哈利的目光，她于是赶紧补充了几句。

　　所以晚餐过后，他们三个离开城堡，穿过冰封的雪地又来到了哈格力的小屋，他们敲了门，回答他们的只有猎犬弗兰的吠声。

　　“哈格力，是我们，快开门。”哈利一边喊一边略步地敲着门。

　　哈格力没有出来开门。他们听见弗兰在用爪子抓门板，哀号着，可门就是不开。他们锤打着门板，罗恩甚至撞玻璃窗，十分多钟过去了，里边毫无动静。

　　“他为什么躲着我们呢？他应该知道我们不会介意他是半巨人啊。”荷米恩说，他们最终还是放弃，失望地回学校了。

　　可哈格力似乎在意他们知道。他已经一个星期没露面了，饭桌上看不到他，操场上也不见这个猎物守护人。格兰比。朋克教授继续代课。马尔夫一有机会就幸灾乐祸。

　　“在想你的混血儿朋友吗？”他不断地在哈利耳边说，只要不远处有老师在，这样他就不怕哈利会报复他了。

　　一月中旬有个访问霍格马得的活动，荷米恩很奇怪哈利居然也去了。

　　“我还以为你会趁房间没人在时，好好地研究那只蛋呢。”她说。

　　“我，唔，我已知道那蛋的秘密了。”哈利撒谎道。

　　“真的吗？”荷米恩钦佩地说道，“做得好。”

　　哈利心里有点内疚，但他很快就忽略了，他还有五个星期的时间呢，这可是很长的一段时间呢。而且如果他遇到哈格力，他也许会遇见的，这样他就有机会劝他回来了。

　　他和罗恩还有荷米恩在星期六一起离开了学校，穿过又冷又湿的操场，走出校门，出发了。当他们走到泊在湖边的丹姆斯安船时，正好看到维特。克伦从甲板上走出来，他只穿着游泳衣，很瘦，不过明显比平时看上去要强壮很多。只见他举起双手，纵身一跃，跳进湖中。

　　“他一定是疯了。现在可是一月啊，水都结冰了。”哈利盯着克伦露出水面的头说。

　　“他家乡比这里要冷多了，”荷米恩说，“我猜他现在觉得就像春天一样暖和。”

　　“对，我想水里还有大乌贼。”罗恩满怀希望，但不紧不慢地说。荷米恩听出了他的语气，皱了皱眉头。

　　“他是个很可爱的人，”她说，“完全不是你想的那样，他更喜欢这儿，这是他亲口对我说的。”

　　罗恩不再说什么了。自从舞会以后，他绝口不提维特。克伦。

　　可是哈利在比赛那天在床底下发现一只小手臂，看上去就像是从穿着保加利罗罩衫的模特身上扯下来的一样。

　　哈利在满是积雪的大街上仔细留意着哈格力的踪影，当他确定哈格力不在任何一间商店里时，他建议再去三扫帚酒吧看看。

　　酒吧拥挤如常，但哈利只扫了全场一眼，就知道哈格力也不在这了。失望中，他和两个伙伴走近柜台，叫了三杯黄油啤酒。早知如此，他就留在宿舍里研究那只蛋了。

　　“难道他不会在办公室里吗？”荷米恩突然说，“看！”她指着柜台后面的镜子，镜子里倒映出露得。巴格蒙的身影，他正和一群恶鬼，坐在阴暗角落里呢。巴格蒙说话声又低又快，可那些恶鬼两手叉在胸前，样子恶狠狠的。

　　太奇怪了，巴格蒙居然会在一个没有“三男巫”事件发生的周末呆在酒吧里，他为什么在这呢？哈利心想。他看着镜子，只见巴格蒙看上去很紧张，就像那晚墨马克在树林里出现之前一样，就在这时，巴格蒙朝柜台这边看过来，发现哈利，于是站了起来。

　　“等一下，等一下。”哈利听见他粗鲁地对那些恶鬼说，等他快步走近柜台，哈利又听到了他那男孩般的笑声。

　　“哈利，你好吗？我早就想见到你了，一切都好吧？”

　　“很好，谢谢。”哈利说。

　　“我可以单独和你们说几句话吗？”巴格蒙热切地说，“你们两个离开几分钟，可以吧？”

　　“好的。”罗恩回答道，他和荷米恩另外找了张桌子坐下来。

　　巴格蒙又把哈利带到吧头的尽头，这里是离罗斯玛特夫人最远的了。

　　“我想我应该再次祝贺你对抗号尾龙的精彩表演，真是太出色了。”巴格蒙说。

　　“谢谢。”哈利说，但他知道巴格蒙想要说的一定不止这些，因为称赞他也可以在两个同伴面前称赞呀，干吗支开他们呢？然而巴格蒙着上去并不急着一吐为快，虽然哈利注意到他不时地朝镜子里看，而那些恶鬼也正在黑暗中朝他使眼色。

　　“真是恶梦。”巴格蒙注意到哈利正朝那边看时，压低噪音对哈利说：“他们英语说得不好……好在他们会指头划脚地补充。这群家伙老是用歌宝德克语说话。可我只知道其中一个词，意思是操斧子，我不喜欢用它以免他们认为我威胁他们。”他发出低而沉的笑声。

　　“他们想干什么？”哈利问道。

　　“呃，这个……”巴格蒙突然看上去有点紧张，“他们……他们正在找克劳斯。巴地。”

　　“为什么找到这来了？他不是在伦敦当牧师吗？”

　　“呃……事实上我也不知道他在哪，”巴格蒙说，“他有点……

　　不大来上班了。已经几个星期没看到他了。他的助手小伯希说他病了。表面上他已经叫猫头鹰去送指示了。但是哈利，你别把这些告诉别人好吗？因为理特。史姬特正到处打听他下落，我敢打保票她会把巴地生病吹嘘成是凶兆，或者说他像珀茜·佐金斯一样失踪了。“

　　“你有珀茜·佐金斯的消息吗？”

　　“没有。”巴格蒙又重新紧张起来，“我已派人找她了，不过事情很奇怪，她肯定已到了阿尔巴尼亚，因为她要看她的二表姐，然后离开表姐家，去南边看姨妈，后来就在路上失踪了。让我往下想想看她会去哪里，她不像是那种跟别人私奔的人……但是……我们在干吗？干吗谈论恶鬼和珀茜·佐金斯呢？我其实很想问你。”他压低声音说，“那金蛋怎么样了？”

　　“呃，不错。”哈利撒谎说。

　　巴格蒙似乎看出他的不老实。

　　“听着，哈利，”他仍然很小声，“我对这一切感觉不是很好，你已经被卷入这场竞赛了，尽管你不情愿，但如果……如果我能帮忙的话……给你指个方向……我是偏向你的……就是那条你超过那条龙的路，好了，就这些了。”

　　哈利看着他圆圆的脸和那两只像孩子似的蓝眼睛。

　　“我们会在蛋里找到线索的，对吗？”他尽量说得很随便。

　　“行，行。”巴格蒙有点不耐烦了，“我们都想要一个霍格瓦彻式的胜利，是吗？”

　　“你帮过塞德里克吗？”哈利问道。

　　巴格蒙光滑的脸此时皱了起来。

　　“没有，我，我是说，我是偏向你的，我只想帮你一个……”

　　“那样的话，太谢谢你了。不过我想那蛋再过几天就会裂开的。”

　　他不知道是否接受巴格蒙的帮助，对他来说巴格蒙还是个陌生人呢，而且如果接受的话，他会觉得欺骗了他的同伴。

　　巴格蒙看上去有点不高兴。就在这时，弗来德和乔治出现了，巴格蒙于是不再说什么。

　　“你好，巴格蒙先生，能赏脸喝杯酒吗？”弗来德高兴地说。

　　“不了，谢谢你，伙计。”巴格蒙最后失望地瞟了一眼哈利。

　　弗来德和乔治也同样失望，他们看着哈利，好像是他令他们失望似的。

　　“好了，我该走了。很高兴见到你，哈利，祝你好运。”巴格蒙匆匆走出酒吧，那几只妖怪也站起来，跟着他出去了。哈利走到罗恩和荷米恩坐的那张桌子。

　　“他想干吗？”罗恩问道。

　　“想帮我关于金蛋的事。”哈利回答道。

　　“他不应该这么做的。”荷米恩吃惊地说，“他可是裁判之一呢，而且，你已经找到线索了，是吗？”

　　“呃，差不多吧。”哈利说。

　　“我想丹伯多如果知道巴格蒙偷偷帮你的话，他一定会很生气的，但愿他也这样帮塞德里克吧。”

　　“他不会的，我问过他。”

　　“谁在乎他帮不帮迪格瑞呀？”罗恩说，哈利同意地点了点头。

　　“那几只恶鬼看上去都不友善。他们在这干吗？”荷米恩呷了一口啤酒说道。

　　“巴格蒙说他们在找克劳斯。他病了，一个星期没上班。”哈利说。

　　“也许伯希把他毒死了，这样他就能坐上国际魔法合作部的部长位置了。”罗恩说。

　　荷米恩瞪了他一眼，埋怨他不该开这样的玩笑，说：“真有趣，几只恶鬼在找克劳斯，他们应该和魔法动物监控局的人打交道才对。”

　　“克劳斯会说好几种语言，也许恶鬼们找他是为了让他当翻译。”哈利说。

　　“你在担心可怜的精灵吗？”罗恩问荷米恩，“是不是想成立个社团保护他们呢？”

　　“哈哈，精灵才用不