Bill and Fleur’s cottage stood alone on a cliff overlooking the sea, its walls embedded1 with shells and whitewashed2. It was a lonely and beautiful place. Wherever Harry3 went inside the tiny cottage or its garden, he could hear the constant ebb4 and flow of the sea, like the breathing of some great, slumbering5 creature. He spent much of the next few days making excuses to escape the crowded cottage, craving6 the cliff-top view of open sky and wide, empty sea, and the feel of cold, salty wind on his face. The enormity of his decision not to race Voldemort to the wand still scared Harry. He could not remember, ever before, choosing /not/ to act. He was full of doubts, doubts that Ron could not help voicing whenever they were together.
“What if Dumbledore wanted us to work out the symbol in time to get the wand?”
“What if working out what the symbol meant made you ‘worthy’ to get the Hallows?”
“Harry, if that really is the Elder Wand, how the hell are we supposed to finish off You-Know-Who?”
Harry had no answers: There were moments when he wondered whether it had been outright8 madness not to try to prevent Voldemort breaking open the tomb. He could not even explain satisfactorily why he had decided9 against it: Every time he tried to reconstruct the internal arguments that had led to his decision, they sounded feebler to him.
The odd thing was that Hermione’s support made him feel just as confused as Ron’s doubts. Now forced to accept that the Elder Wand was real, she maintained that it was an evil object, and that the way Voldemort had taken possession of it was repellent, not to be considered.
“You could never have done that, Harry,” she said again and again. “You couldn’t have broken into Dumbledore’s grave.”
But the idea of Dumbledore’s corpse10 frightened Harry much less than the possibility that he might have misunderstood the living Dumbledore’s intentions. He felt that he was still groping in the dark; he had chosen his path but kept looking back, wondering whether he had misread the signs, whether he should not have taken the other way. From time to time, anger at Dumbledore crashed over him again, powerful as the waves slamming themselves against the cliff beneath the cottage, anger that Dumbledore had not explained before he died.
“But /is/ he dead?” said Ron, three days after they had arrived at the cottage. Harry had been staring out over the wall that separated the cottage garden from the cliff when Ron and Hermione had found him; he wished they had not, having no wish to join in with their argument.
“Yes, he is. Ron, please, don’t start that again!”
“Look at the facts, Hermione,” said Ron, speaking across Harry, who continued to gaze at the horizon. “The solve doe. The sword. The eye Harry saw in the mirror –”
“Harry admits he could have imagined the eye! Don’t you, Harry?”
“I could have,” said Harry without looking at her.
“But you don’t thing you did, do you?” asked Ron.
“No, I don’t,” said Harry.
“There you go!” said Ron quickly, before Hermione could carry on. “If it wasn’t Dumbledore, explain how Dobby knew we were in the cellar, Hermione?”
“I can’t – but can you explain how Dumbledore sent him to us if he’s lying in a tomb at Hogwarts?”
“I dunno, it could’ve been his ghost!”
“Dumbledore wouldn’t come back as a ghost,” said Harry. There was little about Dumbledore he was sure of now, but he knew that much. “He would have gone on.”
“What d’you mean, ‘gone on’?” asked Ron, but before Harry could say any more, a voice behind them said, “‘Arry?”
Fleur had come out of the cottage, her long silver hair flying in the breeze.
“‘Arry, Grip’ook would like to speak to you. ‘E eez in ze smallest bedroom, ‘e says ‘e does not want to be over’eard.”
Her dislike of the goblin sending her to deliver messages was clear; she looked irritable11 as she walked back around the house.
Griphook was waiting for them, as Fleur had said, in the tiniest of the cottage’s three bedrooms, in which Hermione and Luna slept by night. He had drawn12 the red cotton curtains against the bright, cloudy sky, which gave the room a fiery13 glow at odds14 with the rest of the airy, light cottage.
“I have reached my decision, Harry Potter,” said the goblin, who was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with his spindly fingers. “Though the goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you –”
“That’s great!” said Harry, relief surging through him. “Griphook, thank you, we’re really –”
“– in return,” said the goblin firmly, “for payment.”
Slightly taken aback, Harry hesitated.
“How much do you want? I’ve got gold.”
“Not gold,” said Griphook. “I have gold.”
His black eyes glittered; there were no whites to his eyes.
“I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor.”
“You can’t have that,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Then,” said the goblin softly, “we have a problem.”
“We can give you something else,” said Ron eagerly. “I’ll bet the Lestranges have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault16.”
He had said the wrong thing. Griphook flushed angrily.
“I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure17 treasures to which I have no right!”
“The sword’s ours –”
“it is not,” said the goblin.
“We’re Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor’s –”
“And before it was Gryffindor’s, whose was it?” demanded the goblin, sitting up straight.
“No one’s,” said Ron. “It was made for him, wasn’t it?”
“No!” cried the goblin, bristling18 with anger as he pointed19 a long finger at Ron. “Wizarding arrogance20 again! That sword was Ragnuk the First’s, taken from him by Godric Gryffindor! It is a –, a masterpiece of goblinwork! It belongs with the gobl–. The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!”
Griphook glared at them. Harry glanced at the other –, then said, “We need to discuss this, Griphook, if that’s all right. Could you give us a few minutes?”
The goblin nodded, looking sour.
Downstairs in the empty sitting room, Harry walked to the fireplace, brow furrowed21, trying to think what to do. Behind him, Ron said, “He’s having a laugh. We can’t let him have that sword.”
“It is true?” Harry asked Hermione. “Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?”
“I don’t know,” she said hopelessly. “Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there’s no account that I know of that says Gryffindor stole the sword.”
“It’ll be one of those goblin stories,” said Ron, “about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky he hasn’t asked for one of our wands.”
“Goblins have got good reason to dislike wizards, Ron.” said Hermione. “They’ve been treated brutally22 in the past.”
“Goblins aren’t exactly fluffy23 little bunnies, though, are they?” said Ron. “They’ve killed plenty of us. They’ve fought dirty too.”
“But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn’t going to make him more likely to help us, is it?”
There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Harry looked out of the window at Dobby’s grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone.
“Okay,” said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, “how’s this? We tell Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the – and then he can have it. There’s a fake in these, isn’t there? We switch them, and give him the fake.”
“Ron, he’d know the difference better than we would!” said Hermione. “He’s the only one who realized there had been a swap24!”
“Yeah, but we could – caper25 before he realizes –”
He quailed26 beneath the look Hermione was giving him.
“That,” she said quietly, “is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you wonder why goblins don’t like wizards, Ron?”
Ron’s ears had turned red.
“All right, all right! It was the only thing I could think of! What’s your solution, then?”
“We need to offer him something else, something just as valuable.”
“Brilliant, I’ll go and get one of our ancient goblin-made swords and you can gift wrap it.”
Silence fell between them again. Harry was sure that the goblin would accept nothing but the sword, even if they had something as valuable to offer him. Yet the sword was their one, indispensable weapon against the Horcruxes.
He closed his eyes for a moment or two and listened to the rush of the sea. The idea that Gryffindor might have stolen the sword was unpleasant to him: He had always been proud to be a Gryffindor; Gryffindor had been the champion of Muggle-borns, the wizard who had clashed with the pureblood-loving Slytherin….
“Maybe he’s lying,” Harry said, opening his eyes again. “Griphook. Maybe Gryffindor didn’t take the sword. How do we know the goblin version of history’s right?”
“Does it make a difference?” asked Hermione.
“Changes how I feel about it,” said Harry.
He took a deep breath.
“We’ll tell him he can have the sword after he’s helped us get into that vault – but we’ll be careful to avoid telling him exactly /when/ he can have it.”
A grin spread slowly across Ron’s face. Hermione, however, looked alarmed.
“Harry, we can’t –”
“He can have it,” Harry went on, “after we’ve used it on all of the Horcruxes. I’ll make sure he gets it then. I’ll keep my word.”
“But that could be years!” said Hermione.
“I know that, but /he/ needn’t. I won’t be lying… really.”
Harry met her eyes with a mixture of defiance27 and shame. He remembered the words that had been engraved28 over the gateway29 to Nurmengard: FOR THE GREATER GOOD. He pushed the idea away. What choice did they have?
“I don’t like it,” said Hermione.
“Nor do I, much,” Harry admitted.
“Well, I think it’s genius,” said Ron, standing30 up again. “Let’s go and tell him.”
Back in the smallest bedroom, Harry made the offer, careful to phrase it so as not to give any definite time for the handover of the sword. Hermione frowned at the floor while he was speaking; he felt irritated at her, afraid that she might give the game away. However, Griphook had eyes for nobody but Harry.
“I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?”
“Yes,” said Harry.
“Then shake,” said the goblin, holding out his hand.
Harry took it and shook. He wondered whether those black eyes saw any misgivings31 in his own. Then Griphook relinquished32 him, clapped his hands together, and said, “So. We begin!”
It was like planning to break into the Ministry33 all over again. They settled to work in the smallest bedroom, which was kept, according to Griphook’s preference, in semidarkness.
“I have visited the Lestranges’ vault only once,” Griphook told them, “on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword. It is one of the most ancient chambers34. The oldest Wizarding families store their treasures at the deepest level, where the vaults35 are largest and best protected….”
They remained shut in the cupboardlike room for hours at a time. Slowly the days stretched into weeks. There was problem after problem to overcome, not least of which was that their store of Polyjuice Potion was greatly depleted36.
“There’s really only enough left for one of us,” said Hermione, tilting37 the thick mudlike potion against the lamplight.
“That’ll be enough,” said Harry, who was examining Griphook’s hand-drawn map of the deepest passageways.
The other inhabitants of Shell Cottage could hardly fail to notice that something was going on now that Harry, Ron and Hermione only emerged for mealtimes. Nobody asked questions, although Harry often felt Bill’s eyes on the three of them at the table, thoughtful, concerned.
The longer they spent together, the more Harry realized that he did not much like the goblin. Griphook was unexpectedly bloodthirsty, laughed at the idea of pain in lesser38 creatures and seemed to relish39 the possibility that they might have to hurt other wizards to reach the Lestranges’ vault. Harry could tell that his distaste was shared by the other two, but they did not discuss it. They needed Griphook.
The goblin ate only grudgingly40 with the rest of them. Even after his legs had mended, he continued to request trays of food in his room, like the still-frail41 Ollivander, until Bill (following an angry outburst from Fleur) went upstairs to tell him that the arrangement could not continue. Thereafter Griphook joined them at the overcrowded table, although he refused to eat the same food, insisting, instead, on lumps of raw meat, roots, and various fungi42.
Harry felt responsible: It was, after all, he who had insisted that the goblin remain at Shell Cottage so that he could question him; his fault that the whole Weasley family had been driven into hiding, that Bill, Fred, George, and Mr. Weasley could no longer work.
“I’m sorry,” he told Fleur, one blustery April evening as he helped her prepare dinner. “I never meant you to have to deal with all of this.”
She had just set some knives to work, chipping up steaks for Griphook and Bill, who had preferred his meat bloody43 ever since he had been attacked by Greyback. While the knives sliced behind her, her somewhat irritable expression softened44.
“‘Arry, you saved my sister’s life, I do not forget.”
This was not, strictly45 speaking, true, but Harry decided against reminding her that Gabrielle had never been in real danger.
“Anyway,” Fleur went on, pointing her want at a pot of sauce on the stove, which began to bubble at once, “Mr. Ollivander leaves for Muriel’s zis evening. Zat will make zings easier. Ze goblin,” she scowled46 a little at the mention of him, “can move downstairs, and you, Ron, and Dean can take zat room.”
“We don’t mind sleeping in the living room,” said Harry, who knew that Griphook would thing poorly of having to sleep on the sofa; keeping Griphook happy was essential to their plans. “Don’t worry about us.” And when she tried to protest he went on, “We’ll be off your hands soon too, Ron, Hermione, and I. We won’t need to be here much longer.”
“But, what do you mean?” she said, frowning at him, her wand pointing at the casserole dish now suspended in midair. “Of course you must not leave, you are safe ‘ere!”
She looked rather like Mrs. Weasley as she said it, and he was glad that the back door opened at that moment. Luna and Dean entered, their hair damp from the rain outside and their arms full of driftwood.
“… and tiny little ears,” Luna was saying, “a bit like hippo’s, Daddy says, only purple and hairy. And if you want to call them, you have to hum; they prefer a waltz, nothing too fast….”
Looking uncomfortable, Dean shrugged47 at Harry as he passed, following Luna into the combined dining and sitting room where Ron and Hermione were laying the dinner table.
Seizing the chance to escape Fleur’s questions, Harry grabbed two jugs48 of pumpkin49 juice and followed them.
“… and if you ever come to our house I’ll be able to show you the horn, Daddy wrote to me about it but I haven’t seen it yet, because the Death Eaters took me from the Hogwarts Express and I never got home for Christmas,” Luna was saying, as she and Dean relit the fire.
“Luna, we told you,” Hermione called over to her. “That horn exploded. It came from an Erumpent, not a Crumple-Horned Snorkack –”
“No, it was definitely a Snorkack horn,” said Luna serenely50, “Daddy told me. It will probably have re-formed by now, they mend themselves, you know.”
Hermione shook her head and continued laying down forks as Bill appeared, leading Mr. Ollivander down the stairs. The wandmaker still looked exceptionally frail, and he clung to Bill’s arm as the latter supported him, carrying a large suitcase.
“I’m going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander,” said Luna, approaching the old man.
“And I you, my dear,” said Ollivander, patting her on the shoulder.
“You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place.”
“So, au revoir, Mr. Ollivander,” said Fleur, kissing him on both cheeks. “And I wonder whezzer you could oblige me by delivering a package to Bill’s Auntie Muriel? I never returned ‘er tiara.”
“It will be an honor,” said Ollivander with a little bow, “the very least I can do in return for your generous hospitality.”
Fleur drew out a worn velvet52 case, which she opened to show the wandmaker. The tiara sat glittering and twinkling in the light from the low-hanging lamp.
“Moonstones and diamonds,” said Griphook, who had sidled into the room without Harry noticing. “Made by goblins, I think?”
“And paid for by wizards,” said Bill quietly, and the goblin shot him a look that was both furtive53 and challenging.
A strong wind gusted54 against the cottage windows as Bill and Ollivander set off into the night. The rest of them squeezed in around the table; elbow to elbow and with barely enough room to move, they started to eat. The fire crackled and popped in the grate beside them. Fleur, Harry noticed, was merely playing with her food; she glanced at the window every few minutes; however, Bill returned before they had finished their first course, his long hair tangled55 by the wind.
“Everything’s fine,” he told Fleur. “Ollivander settled in, Mum and Dad say hello. Ginny sends you all her love, Fred and George are driving Muriel up the wall, they’re still operating an Owl-Order business out of her back room. It cheered her up to have her tiara back, though. She said she thought we’d stolen it.”
“Ah, she eez charmant, your aunt,” said Fleur crossly, waving her wand and causing the dirty plates to rise and form a stack in midair. She caught them and marched out of the room.
“Daddy’s made a tiara,” piped up Luna, “Well, more of a crown, really.”
Ron caught Harry’s eye and grinned; Harry knew that he was remembering the ludicrous headdress they had seen on their visit to Xenophilius.
“Yes, he’s trying to re-create the lost diadem56 of Ravenclaw. He thinks he’s identified most of the main elements now. Adding the billywig wings really made a difference –”
There was a bang on the front door. Everyone’s head turned toward it. Fleur came running out of the kitchen, looking frightened; Bill jumped to his feed, his wand pointing at the door; Harry, Ron, and Hermione did the same. Silently Griphook slipped beneath the table, out of sight.
“Who is it?” Bill called.
“It is I, Remus John Lupin!” called a voice over the howling wind. Harry experienced a thrill of fear; what had happened? “I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!”
“Lupin,” muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched57 it open.
Lupin fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, “It’s a boy! We’ve named him Ted7, after Dora’s father!”
“Wha –? Tonks – Tonks has had the baby?”
“Yes, yes, she’s had the baby!” shouted Lupin. All around the table came cries of delight, sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed59, “Congratulations!” and Ron said, “Blimey, a baby!” as if he had never heard of such a thing before.
“Yes – yes – a boy,” said Lupin again, who seemed dazed by his own happiness. He strode around the table and hugged Harry; the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place might never have happened.
“You’ll be godfather?” he said as he released Harry.
“You, yes, of course – Dora quite agrees, no one better –”
“I – yeah – blimey –”
Harry felt overwhelmed, astonished, delighted; now Bill was hurrying to fetch wine, and Fleur was persuading Lupin to join them for a drink.
“I can’t stay long, I must get back,” said Lupin, beaming around at them all: He looked years younger than Harry had ever seen him. “Thank you, thank you, Bill”
Bill had soon filled all of their goblets61, they stood and raised them high in a toast.
“To Teddy Remus Lupin,” said Lupin, “a great wizard in the making!”
“‘Oo does ‘e look like?” Fleur inquired.
“I think he looks like Dora, but she thinks he is like me. Not much hair. It looked black when he was born, but I swear it’s turned ginger63 in the hour since. Probably blond by the time I get back. Andromeda says Tonks’s hair started changing color the day that she was born.” He drained his goblet62. “Oh, go on then, just one more,” he added, beaming, as Bill made to fill it again.
The wind buffeted64 the little cottage and the fire leapt and crackled, and Bill was soon opening another bottle of wine. Lupin’s news seemed to have taken them out of themselves, removed them for a while from their state of siege: Tidings of new life were exhilarating. Only the goblin seemed untouched by the suddenly festive65 atmosphere, and after a while he slunk back to the bedroom he now occupied alone. Harry thought he was the only one who had noticed this, until he saw Bill’s eyes following the goblin up the stairs.
“No… no… I really must get back,” said Lupin at last, declining yet another goblet of wine. He got to his feet and pulled his traveling cloak back around himself.
“Good-bye, good-bye – I’ll try and bring some pictures in a few day’s time – they’ll all be so glad to know that I’ve seen you –”
He fastened his cloak and made his farewells, hugging the women and grasping hands with the men, then, still beaming, returned into the wild night.
“Godfather, Harry!” said Bill as they walked into the kitchen together, helping66 clear the table. “A real honor! Congratulations!”
As Harry set down the empty goblets he was carrying, Bill pulled the door behind him closed, shutting out the still-voluble voices of the others, who were continuing to celebrate even in Lupin’s absence.
“I wanted a private word, actually, Harry. It hasn’t been easy to get an opportunity with the cottage this full of people.”
Bill hesitated.
“Harry, you’re planning something with Griphook.”
It was a statement, not a question, and Harry did not bother to deny it. He merely looked at Bill, waiting.
“I know goblins,” said Bill. “I’ve worked for Gringotts ever since I left Hogwarts. As far as there can be friendship between wizards and goblins, I have goblin friends – or, at least, goblins I know well, and like.” Again, Bill hesitated.
“Harry, what do you want from Griphook, and what have you promised him in return?”
“I can’t tell you that,” said Harry. “Sorry, Bill.”
The kitchen door opened behind them; Fleur was trying to bring through more empty goblets.
“Wait,” Bill told her, “Just a moment.”
She backed out and he closed the door again.
“Then I have to say this,” Bill went on. “If you have struck any kind of bargain with Griphook, and most particularly if that bargain involves treasure, you must be exceptionally careful. Goblin notions of ownership, payment, and repayment67 are not the same as human ones.”
Harry felt a slight squirm of discomfort68, as though a small snake had stirred inside him.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“We are talking about a different breed of being,” said Bill. “Dealings between wizards and goblins have been fraught69 for centuries – but you’ll know all that from History of Magic. There has been fault on both sides, I would never claim that wizards have been innocent. However, there is a belief among some goblins, and those at Gringotts are perhaps most prone70 to it, that wizards cannot be trusted in matters of gold and treasure, that they have no respect for goblin ownership.”
“I respect –” Harry began, but Bill shook his head.
“You don’t understand, Harry, nobody could understand unless they have lived with goblins. To a goblin, the rightful and true master of any object is the maker51, not the purchaser. All goblin made objects are, in goblin eyes, rightfully theirs.”
“But it was bought –”
“– then they would consider it rented by the one who had paid the money. They have, however, great difficulty with the idea of goblin-made objects passing from wizard to wizard. You saw Griphook’s face when the tiara passed under his eyes. He disapproves71. I believe he thinks, as do the fiercest of his kind, that it ought to have been returned to the goblins once the original purchaser died. They consider our habit of keeping goblin-made objects, passing them from wizard to wizard without further payment, little more than theft.”
Harry had an ominous72 feeling now; he wondered whether Bill guessed more than he was letting on.
“All I am saying,” said Bill, setting his hand on the door back into the sitting room, “is to be very careful what you promise goblins, Harry. It would be less dangerous to break into Gringotts than to renege on a promise to a goblin.”
“Right,” said Harry as Bill opened the door, “yeah. Thanks. I’ll bear that in mind.”
As he followed Bill back to the others a wry73 thought came to him, born no doubt of the wine he had drunk. He seemed set on ––– to become just as reckless a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius Black had been to him.
比尔和芙蓉的房子独自座落在海边的悬崖上，墙上涂着白色的石灰，嵌满了贝壳。这是一个僻静而美丽的地方。无论在这栋房子或者后花园的哪里，哈利都能听见汹涌的海水伴着潮汐的声音，就如同一只巨大的沉睡的动物在呼吸。接下来的几天哈利大部分的时间都是找着各种借口不和他们一起呆在拥挤的小屋里，而是沉浸在这令人心驰神往的这悬崖海景中，感受着辽阔的天空与海洋，体味着吹在他脸上咸咸的冷风。
他决定不参与伏地魔争夺魔杖的暴行依然使哈利害怕。一直以来他就无法选择不去采取行动。他怀疑无论在哪里只要他们聚到一起，罗恩就会一直不停地发问：
“要是邓布利多想要我们尽快解出那个标记而获得魔杖呢？”“要是解出这个只意味味这我们‘值得’得到圣物呢？”“哈利，如果那真的是长老魔杖，我们要怎样才能结果了那该死的神秘人呢？”
哈利答不出来：有那么一阵子他也在想为什么没有试着在伏地魔破坏坟墓之前直接硬碰硬地去阻止他。他甚至不能圆满地解释为什么他要反对：每次他试图重新罗列那些曾经帮他作出决定的内心论据时，就发现它们听起来对于他很无力。
还有赫敏的支持让他感觉到了和罗恩的疑虑一样的困惑。她现在勉强接受了长老魔杖是真的存在，但还继续坚持认为它是邪恶的，说伏地魔拿到它的方式是不能接受的，不应该被考虑。
“你绝对不可以那么做，哈利，”她一次又一次地说：“你不能破坏邓布利多的坟墓。”
但是对于看到邓布利多尸体这个想法给哈利的震惊，远比不上他可能曾误解了邓布利多生前的意图这一点。他觉得自己仍旧在黑暗中摸索；他选择了他的路但仍在回忆过去，他不知道自己是否误解了那个信号，是否不应该另想办法。有时，他对邓布利多的气愤就像波涛拍打着小屋下的峭壁一样向他涌来，他气邓布利多生前为什么没有向他解释明白。
“但是他真的死了吗？”在他们到达小屋的三天后，罗恩问。当罗恩和赫敏找到哈利的时候，他正目不转睛地盯着那堵隔开花园和峭壁的墙。哈利真不希望他们找到他，他不想加入争论。
“是的，他死了。罗恩，拜托不要再提了！”
“赫敏，面对现实吧，”罗恩不顾继续凝视着海平线的哈利说“银色的雌鹿，剑，哈里从镜子里看到的眼睛——”
“哈利都说了眼睛是他自己想象出来的！是不是哈利？”
“是，”哈利没有去看她
“但你所做的并不是你想得，是不是？”罗恩问。
“嗯，不是。”
“这就是了嘛！”罗恩在赫敏能插上嘴之前飞快地说。“要不是邓布利多，你如何解释多比怎么知道我们在地窖里的呢，赫敏？”
“我解释不了——但你就能解释邓布利多怎么样在霍格沃茨的坟墓里派他来吗？”
“我不知道，可以是鬼魂的形式啊！”
“邓布利多不会以鬼魂的形式回来的，”哈利说。现在他对于邓布利多，能肯定的太少了，不过这一点他是确信的。“他会继续的。”
“‘继续’？什么意思？”罗恩问，但在哈利回答之前，后面向起了一个声音：“阿利？”
芙蓉已经从房子里走了出来，银色的长发随风飞舞。
“阿利，阿环想要和你谈谈，他在那间最小的卧室里呢，他说他不想来这偷听。”
芙蓉显然不喜欢妖精使唤她传话，她转身走进房子的时候看起来很生气。
他们走进赫敏和卢娜住的那间最小的卧室的时候，拉环正如芙蓉所说的正在等着他们。他把窗帘拉上了，挡住了白云朵朵的晴朗天空，原本通风明亮的小屋笼罩再一片烈焰一般的红色之中。
“我已经决定了，哈利波特，”妖精说，他正盘腿坐在一只矮凳上，狭长的手指拍着自己的胳膊。“尽管古灵阁的妖精们会叛变，但是我决定帮助你——”
“太好了！” 哈利欣慰地说“拉环，谢谢你，我们真是——”
“作为报答，”妖精坚定地说，“要偿还的。”
有点受挫， 哈利犹豫了。
“你想要多少？我有金币。”
“不要金币，”拉环说“我有的是。”
他黑色的眼睛闪闪发光，它的眼睛中根本没有眼白。
“我想要那把剑。高维克·格来芬多的宝剑。”
哈利的心沉了下去。
“我不能给你，”他说“我很抱歉。”
“这样的话，”妖精轻轻地说“我们之间就有问题了。”
“我们可以给你些别的东西，”罗恩热情地说“我敢打赌莱斯特兰奇肯定弄到了不少东西，一旦我们进入了金库你就可以拿走你那份。”
可是罗恩说错话了。拉环生气地涨红了脸。
“我不是贼！孩子！我不会试图去获得我不应有的财富！”
“那剑是我们的——”
“它不是。”妖精说
“我们是格来芬多的，它是高维克·格来芬多的——”
“那在格来芬多拥有它之前，它又是谁的？”妖精坐直了身体，问道。
“不是谁的，”罗恩说，“剑就是为他做的，不是吗？”
“不是！”妖精喊，用它那狭长的手指火冒三丈地指着罗恩。“又是巫师们的高傲自大！那把剑最开始是雷格努克的，高维克·格来芬多是从他那拿走的！是丢失的财宝，这把剑是妖精的杰作！它属于妖精！它就是我的报酬，给还是不给，你看着办吧！“
拉环怒视着他们。哈里瞥了一眼另外两个人，说：“我们需要讨论一下，拉环，如果可以的话，你是不是可以给我们几分钟？”
妖精点了点头，有点酸溜溜地看向空旷的起居室里的楼梯。哈利走向炉火旁，皱起了眉头，努力地想到底要怎么办。罗恩在他身后说：“他开什么玩笑，我们不能给他那把剑。”
“是真的吗？”哈利问赫敏：“剑是格来芬多偷来的吗？”
“我不知道，”她绝望地说“魔法史总是略过了那些巫师对别的魔法种族做的事，但我知道的记载中没有说过格来芬多的剑是偷来的。”
“这肯定是妖精的谎话，”罗恩说，“一个关于巫师是怎样欺压它们的谎话。我觉得他没管我们要我们的魔杖已经够幸运的了。”
“妖精们可有理由讨厌巫师，罗恩。”赫敏说“过去他们的待遇猪狗不如。”
“妖精不就是些毛茸茸的小家伙，不是吗？”罗恩说“他们杀害了我们不少人，他们的斗争手段可真卑鄙。
“但是同拉环争论谁的种族更卑鄙更暴力并不会让他更愿意帮助我们，不是吗？”
他们都沉默了，试图找出一种能解决问题的办法。哈利看着窗外多比的坟墓。卢娜正在墓碑旁把海草做成果酱。
“好吧”罗恩说，哈利转身面向他，“这样如何？我们就和拉环说在我们进入到金库之前我们都需要那把剑，之后再给他。但那里的那个是假的，怎么样？我们调一下包，把假的那个给他。”
“罗恩，他比我们更能分辨真假！”赫敏说“他是唯一知道它被换过的人！”
“是，但是我们可以在他意识到之前掉包……”
他有点心虚地迎着赫敏投来的目光。
“那么做，”她平静地说，“是很卑鄙的。请他帮忙，还欺骗他？你知道为什么妖精们都不喜欢巫师吗，罗恩？”
罗恩的脸红到了耳朵根子。
“好吧，好吧！这是我能想到的唯一办法了！那你有什么办法？”
“我们得给他点别的东西，别的同等价值的东西。”
“哈，高明啊。那我去再找一把妖精做的古剑，你来打包装呗~”
他们再一次沉默了。哈利肯定妖精除了宝剑什么都不想要，即使他们给他同等价值的东西。尽管那剑仍然是他们的对抗魂器不可或缺的武器。
哈利闭上眼睛，静静地听着海浪声。宝剑是格来芬多偷来的这个想法让他很不愉快：他一直以自己是格来芬多的人而引以为傲；格来芬多的麻瓜出身孩子最多，那些追崇纯血统的人更乐意去斯莱特林。
“或许他在撒谎，”哈利再次睁开了眼睛“拉环在撒谎。也许格来芬多并不是拿走了宝剑，我们就怎么知道妖精对历史的评判就是站在一个正确的角度呢？”
“那又有什么分别？”赫敏问。
“能让我感觉好点。”哈利说，他深深地吸了口气。
“我们告诉他在他帮我们进入金库以后他可以得到宝剑——但我们要尽力避免承诺他到底何时才能给他。”
罗恩渐渐露出了笑容，赫敏却看起来很紧张。
“哈利，我们不能——”
“他可以得到它，”哈利继续说“在我们用它对付了所有魂器之后。我保证他那时才可以得到宝剑。我说话算话。”
“但那可能是好几年之后了！”赫敏说。
“我知道，但他不知道。我这样……也不算撒谎。”
哈利充满挑战而又有点内疚地看着她。他还记得刻在去往努尔蒙德的路上的那句话：为了更大的利益。他撇开了思绪。他又有什么选择呢？
“我可不喜欢这个主意。”赫敏说
“我也不喜欢，不是很喜欢。”哈利承认。
“可我觉得这主意太棒了，”罗恩站了起来“我们去和他讲吧。”
他们回到那间小卧室，哈利答应了他，尽力避免任何能关于何时给他宝剑的
承诺。他们谈话的时候赫敏一直在旁边皱着眉头盯着地板；哈利觉得很生气，怕她破坏这个计划。但拉环却是除了哈利谁也不看。
“我记住你的话了，哈利波特，也就是说如果我帮你的话你就会给我格来芬多的宝剑？”
“对。”哈利答道。
“成交。”妖精伸出了他的手说。
哈利和他握了握手。他不知道拉环那双黑眼睛是否看出了他的疑虑。然后拉环放开了他的手，拍了拍手掌，“那么，我们开始吧！”
就像计划要再次攻入魔法部一样，由着拉环的选择，他们在这半昏暗的小屋中开始了工作。
“我只去过莱斯特兰奇'的金库一次，”拉环说，“那次我只是被安排去在里面放一把假剑。那是最古老的库房之一。最古老的巫师家庭把他们的财产贮存在最深处，那里的金库最大，受到的保护也最好……”
他们在这个小的就像壁橱一样的房间里一呆就是几个小时，这几天弄得就像几星期那么长。问题一个接一个地涌现，需要解决，比如他们库存的复方汤剂要用完了。
“只剩下够一个人的量了。”赫敏说，在灯光下搅合着泥巴似的汤剂。
“够用了，”哈利说，他正察看着拉环手绘的最深区的地图。
住在贝壳小宅里的无法不注意到哈利、赫敏和罗恩正在做着些什么事情，因为他们只是在吃饭的时候才会出现。但没有人去问他们，尽管哈利觉得饭桌上比尔看他们三个人的眼神中充满了思索与关心。
他们呆在一起的时间越长，哈利就越觉得自己真是不喜欢妖精。拉环是出乎意料的残忍，他总是在嘲笑他们要决定尽可能牺牲少的生灵的主意，看起来他总是想要伤害别的巫师才能到达莱斯特兰奇的金库。哈利能够感觉到其他两人也对拉环有些厌恶。但他们并没有讨论他，他们需要拉环。
这个妖精只是勉强地吃些他们的剩饭。即使是他的腿现在好了，他还是要求把食物拿到小屋里来吃，就像还很虚弱的奥利维德一样，直到比尔（后面跟着发怒的芙蓉）上来说不能再这样安排了。这以后拉环就加入了他们拥挤的餐桌，尽管他拒绝吃同样的食物，坚持要吃死金丝鸟、生肉和各种真菌。
哈利觉得这是他的责任：不管怎样，是他坚持让妖精留在贝壳小宅中，这样他才能继续问他问题；因为他的原因整个韦斯莱家都不得不躲起来。比尔，费雷德，乔治，还有韦斯莱先生都不再工作了。
“我很抱歉，”四月的一个大风的下午他帮芙蓉准备晚饭的时候对她说：“我真的不是有意让你们承受这些的。”
而她只是指挥着一些小刀来给比尔和拉环切牛排，自从比尔被格雷伯克袭击以后她就得给他准备带血的生肉了。刀子在她身后飞舞着切肉，她不知怎么表情变得如此温柔。
“阿利，你救过我妹妹的命，我不会忘记。”
严格的说，并不是这样，但是哈利决定不去提醒她加里布尔当时并没有真的处于危险之中。
“不管怎样，”芙蓉继续说，把她的魔杖指向炉子上的一壶正咕嘟泡的酱，“奥利维德先生今晚上就要去穆莉尔家了，介（这）些事就不用那么麻烦了，辣（那）个妖精，”哈利注意到她皱了一下眉。“就可以住楼下了，你和罗恩、迪安就可以住哈（他）的房间了”
“我们不介意睡在起居室里，”哈里知道拉环会觉得睡在沙发上很憋屈；让拉环觉得舒服时他们计划的重点。“别担心我们。”在她要决定以前哈利继续说“我们不久也会离开你家了，我和罗恩、赫敏，我们不能在这呆太长时间的。”
“可，你这什么意思啊？”芙蓉皱着眉问他，她指挥着菜盘子的魔杖停在了半空中。“你当然可以不必走，你在饿（这）里很安全！”
她说这话的时候看起来很像韦斯莱夫人，哈里很庆幸后门这时开了。卢娜和迪安进来了，他们的头发被雨浇透了，胳膊上全是木屑。
“……还有小耳朵”卢娜正说着，“有点像河马的，我爸爸说，只有紫色多毛的。你要是想呼唤他们，你只能对他们哼曲儿；它们更喜欢跳华尔兹，不是太快……”
迪安经过哈利的时候很不舒服地耸了耸肩，他跟着卢娜进了那个既当餐厅又当起居室的厅里，罗恩和赫敏正在摆桌子。哈利抓住这个避免回答芙蓉问题的机会，拿起两壶南瓜汁跟上他们。
“……你要是来我家我就给你看看那只角，爸爸写信告诉我的，我还没看过呢，因为食死徒把我从霍格沃茨特快上劫走了，我圣诞节也没回家，”卢娜和迪安坐到火炉旁时她说。
“卢娜，我们告诉过你了，”赫敏说“那只角已经破了。它是毒角兽身上的，而不是什么弯角鼾兽”
“才不是呢，他绝对是弯角鼾兽的角，”卢娜严肃地说“我爸爸说了，它到现在还不能重新组合，他们自己进化。”
赫敏摇了摇头，继续摆放刀叉。这时比尔搀着奥利维德先生从楼梯上下来了。这个魔杖制造商看起来人就非常虚弱地靠着比尔，比尔在他身后提着一只大行李箱，搀扶着他
“我们会想你的，奥利维德先生，”卢娜走近了那个老人。
“我也会想你的，亲爱的。” 奥利维德拍了拍她的肩膀：“你在那个可怕的地方给了我很大的安慰。”
“au revoir（法语）,奥利维德先生”芙蓉吻了吻他的双颊：“是什么力量驱使您给比尔的阿姨穆莉尔送包裹的呢？我从来就没有收到过这样漂亮的头饰。”
“我很荣幸这么做，” 奥利维德鞠了一躬说到：“这是我能对你热情的款待所作的最小的回报了”
芙蓉拉出一个旧天鹅绒箱子，打开来展示给他看。王冠在昏暗的灯光下闪闪发光。
“月长石和钻石，”拉环说，哈利没有注意到他什么时候蹭到屋子里来了，“妖精做的，是吧？”
“妖精为巫师做的。”比尔平静地说，妖精用挑衅的目光偷偷看了一眼他。
比尔和奥利维德推开门走进夜色中时一阵强风涌了进来。剩下的人挤在了饭桌旁，胳膊肘几乎都没有地方挪动，这样，他们开始吃饭了。他们身旁的炉火噼啪作响。哈利注意到芙蓉几乎一直就是在拨弄着盘里的食物；她每隔几分钟都要看一眼窗外。比尔在他们吃完第一道菜的时候才回来。他长长的头发随风舞动着。
“一切都很顺利，”他和芙蓉说，“奥利维德已经安置好了，爸爸妈妈向你们问好，金妮也让我带好，弗雷德和乔治让穆莉尔非常恼火，他们依旧在她的密室里做着猫头鹰订单的生意。阿姨很高兴王冠失而复得。她说她以为我们把它偷走了。”
“啊呀，你阿姨还真迷人。”芙蓉说，以便挥舞着魔杖把那些在盘子升到在半空中，她指挥着它们从屋中列队而出。
“我爸爸做了个王冠，”卢娜说“嗯，是个花冠呢。”
罗恩和哈利对视了一下嘿嘿笑了；哈利还记得他们去拜访谢农费里厄斯时她戴的那个可笑的头饰。
“是啊，他想再造一个拉文克劳的花冠。他觉得他现在能认出大多数的零件。还有那个短粗翅膀真的能分出——”
前门突然发出砰的一声向。大家都转过头去看。芙蓉从厨房里跑了出来，看起来吓坏了；比尔跳了起来，魔杖对准了门；哈利、罗恩和赫敏也是。拉环悄悄地出溜到了桌子底下。
“谁？”比尔喊道。
“是我，莱姆斯 约翰 卢平！”咆哮的风中一个声音响起。哈利吓了一跳，真的是他吗？“我是狼人，和尼法朵拉
唐克斯结婚的那个，你，贝壳小宅的保密人，告诉了我这个地址，说紧急情况下我可以来！”
“是卢平。”比尔叨咕着，跑去开门。
卢平跌了进来。他脸色苍白，穿着一件旅行斗篷，他定睛看了看站在面前的都有谁，然后喊道：“是个男孩！我们给他取名叫泰德，朵拉父亲的小名！”
赫敏尖叫：“什——？唐克斯？——唐克斯生了？”
“对，没错，她生了！”卢平喊道。桌边的人都喜悦而欣慰地感叹着；赫敏和芙蓉止不住尖叫。“恭喜恭喜啊！”罗恩说：“哈哈，孩子！”就好像他以前从没听说过这样的事似的。
“是啊——是啊——是个男孩，”卢平重复着，他正沉浸在他那巨大的幸福当中。他大步跨到桌子那边拥抱了哈利；这样的场景在格里莫广场可能从来都没发生过。
“你会做他的教父吧？”他放开哈利的时候说道。
“我——我吗？”哈利结巴了。
“对，你，就是你——朵拉非常同意，没人比你更合——”
“我——好——天啊——”
哈利显得很震惊，激动而又欣喜。比尔匆忙去取来红酒，芙蓉在劝说卢平也加入他们来喝一杯。
“我不能在这呆太久，我还得回去，”卢平说，大家都喜气洋洋的：他看上去年轻了好几岁。“谢谢大家，谢谢你，比尔。”
比尔迅速把大家的高脚杯斟满了酒，他们举起了酒杯。
“为了泰迪·莱姆斯·卢平，”卢平说“一个伟大巫师的诞生！”
“他长得像谁啊？”芙蓉问。
“我觉得像朵拉，但她觉得像我。头发不多，刚出生的时候是黑色的，但我打赌几小时后就会变成浅黄色。也许我回去后就变成金色的了。安多米达说唐克斯的头发从出生的时候就会变色了。”他一饮而尽：“来，再来点酒。”他喜气洋洋地说，比尔又给他斟满了酒。
海风吹打着小宅，屋中的炉火噼啪作响，比尔很快又拿来了另一瓶酒。看起来卢平的消息让大家无比兴奋，让他们在这被围困的形势下松了口气。新生命的诞生总是令人欣喜的。只有拉环对这种喜庆的氛围无动于衷，不一会他就溜回了现在已经是他一个人的卧室。要不是哈利看到比尔也在看着拉环上楼，他还以为只有自己注意到了呢。
“不了……不了……我真得回去了，”最后卢平说道，他拒绝了再来一杯。他走过去拽起他的旅行斗蓬披在了身上。
“再见，再见——我这几天会尽力给你们带来点照片的——他们要知道我见过你们肯定会很高兴的——”
卢平系紧了她的斗蓬和他们告别，他拥抱了女孩子们，和男孩子们逐一握手。然后乐乐呵呵地转身步入了夜色中。
“教父阿，哈利！”他们一同走回厨房准备收拾桌子的时候比尔说“多大的荣耀啊！祝贺你！”
哈利放下手里的高脚杯时，比尔关上了门，突然一改刚才卢平在时的滔滔不绝：
“哈利，我想私下和你说几句。想摆脱这满房子的人也不是那么容易的。”比尔踌躇着。
“哈利，你在和拉环一起策划着什么。”
哈利肯定比尔说的是陈述句，不是疑问句。他只是看着他，等着他继续说。
“我了解妖精，”比尔说：“自从我离开霍格沃茨之后我就在古灵阁工作。巫师和妖精之间还是存在友谊的，我就有一些妖精朋友——至少一些好妖精。”比尔又开始犹豫了。
“哈利，你想从拉环那里得到什么？你又答应了给他什么？”
“我不能告诉你，”哈利说。“很抱歉，比尔。”
厨房的门在他们身后打开了；芙蓉正打算弄进来更多的空杯子。
“等一下，”比尔和她说“稍等一下。”
她退了出去，关上了门。
“那我就必须告诉你，”比尔继续说道“如果你和拉环达成了某种交易，尤其是这种交易还和财产有关，你就得格外小心。妖精对所有权，支付和回报是有着和我们人类完全不同的概念的。
哈利突然觉得有点不舒服，就像他体内有一只蛇在蠕动。
“什么意思？”他问。
“我们谈论的是两个不同的物种，”比尔说：“巫师和妖精之间的交易往来已经有好几个世纪了——自从有魔法史以来。双方都有过过错，我从来不会去说巫师就是清白的。但，妖精有妖精的观念，古灵阁更倾向于它们的。就是巫师们在金银和财产方面是不值得相信的，他们根本不尊重妖精的所有权。
“可我尊重——”哈利说，但比尔摇了摇头，
“你不明白，哈利，除了和妖精生活在一起的人，没人能明白。对妖精来说，物品的所有权是属于它的制造者的，而不是购买者。在妖精眼里，他们做出来的东西，就是他们自己的。”
“但东西被买走了——”
“——那它就会被认为是花钱被租走了。他们对妖精做的东西的态度和巫师有着很大的不同。你也看到拉环看到王冠时的脸色了，他根本不赞成我们的想法。我相信他非常的想立刻把王冠送回到制作它的妖精那里。他们觉得我们占有了妖精的东西，还不用继续付费的代代相传，就和贼差不多。”
哈利现在有了种不祥的预感，他怀疑比尔是不是知道了更多的东西。
“我要说的就是，”比尔把手放在了门上：“你要是答应了妖精什么事情，就要格外小心。背叛妖精可比闯进古灵阁危险多了。”
“好的。”比尔打开门的时候哈利说：“我会记住的。”
他跟着比尔出来的时候的一个讽刺的想法涌现了出来，无疑是因为酒精的作用。他看起来和小天狼星布莱克一样成了泰迪卢平的一个疯狂的教父。
收听单词发音 |
1
embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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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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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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plummeted
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| v.垂直落下，骤然跌落( plummet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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arrogance
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| n.傲慢，自大 | |
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furrowed
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| v.犁田，开沟( furrow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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swap
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| n.交换；vt.交换，用...作交易 | |
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25
caper
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| v.雀跃，欢蹦；n.雀跃，跳跃；续随子，刺山柑花蕾；嬉戏 | |
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quailed
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| 害怕，发抖，畏缩( quail的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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30
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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31
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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32
relinquished
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| 交出，让给( relinquish的过去式和过去分词 )； 放弃 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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34
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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vaults
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| n.拱顶( vault的名词复数 )；地下室；撑物跳高；墓穴 | |
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depleted
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| adj. 枯竭的, 废弃的 动词deplete的过去式和过去分词 | |
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tilting
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| 倾斜，倾卸 | |
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38
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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39
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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40
grudgingly
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41
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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fungi
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| n.真菌，霉菌 | |
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43
bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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44
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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45
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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46
scowled
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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48
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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49
pumpkin
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| n.南瓜 | |
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50
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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51
maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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52
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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53
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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54
gusted
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| n. 突然一阵 n. 风味 vi. 猛吹 | |
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55
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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56
diadem
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| n.王冠，冕 | |
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57
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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58
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
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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61
goblets
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| n.高脚酒杯( goblet的名词复数 ) | |
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62
goblet
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| n.高脚酒杯 | |
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63
ginger
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| n.姜，精力，淡赤黄色；adj.淡赤黄色的；vt.使活泼，使有生气 | |
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64
buffeted
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| 反复敲打( buffet的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续猛击； 打来打去； 推来搡去 | |
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65
festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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66
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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67
repayment
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| n.偿还，偿还款；报酬 | |
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68
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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69
fraught
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| adj.充满…的，伴有(危险等)的；忧虑的 | |
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70
prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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71
disapproves
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的第三人称单数 ) | |
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72
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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73
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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