Chapter 1 The Worst Birthday
Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.“Third time this week!” he roared across the table. “If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!”Harry tried, yet again, to explain.“She's bored ,” he said. “She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night—”“Do I look stupid?” snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. “I know what'll happen if that owl's let out.”He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys’ son, Dudley.“I want more bacon.”“There's more in the frying pan, sweetums,” said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. “We must build you up while we've got the chance… I don't like the sound of that school food…”“Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings,” said Uncle Vernon heartily. “Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?”Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.“Pass the frying pan.”“You've forgotten the magic word,” said Harry irritably.The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.“I meant please'!” said Harry quickly. “I didn't mean—”“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU,” thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, “ABOUT SAYING THE M'WORD IN OUR HOUSE?”“But I—”“HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!” roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.“I just—”“I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!”Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.“All right,” said Harry, ” all right…”Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.Harry Potter was a wizard - a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt.He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home. What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys'doorstep eleven years before.At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow - nobody understood why -Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry.So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys'story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents.And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous… but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake - but to ignore it completely…At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, “Now, as we all know, today is a very important day.”Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.“This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career,” said Uncle Vernon.Harry went back to his toast. Of course , he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party . He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).“I think we should run through the schedule one more time,” said Uncle Vernon. “We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -?”“In the lounge,” said Aunt Petunia promptly, “waiting to welcome them graciously to our home.”“Good, good. And Dudley?”“I'll be waiting to open the door.” Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. “May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?”“They'll love him!” cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.“Excellent, Dudley,” said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. “And you?”“I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there,” said Harry tonelessly.“Exactly,” said Uncle Vernon nastily. “I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen—”“I'll announce dinner,” said Aunt Petunia.“And, Dudley, you'll say—”“May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?” said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.“My perfect little gentleman!” sniffed Aunt Petunia.“And you?” said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.“I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there,” said Harry dully.“Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?”“Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason… Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason…”“Perfect… Dudley?”“How about - ‘We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you .'”This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.“And you, boy?”Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged.“I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there,” he said.“Too right, you will.” said Uncle Vernon forcefully. “The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time to morrow.”Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive.“Right - I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you ,” he snarled at Harry. “You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning.”Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath:“Happy birthday to me… happy birthday to me…”No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay.Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick. For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal - and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream…Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes—Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge - and the hedge was staring back . Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.“I know what day it is,” sang Dudley, waddling toward him.The huge eyes blinked and vanished.“What?” said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.“I know what day it is,” Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.“Well done,” said Harry. “So you've finally learned the days of the week.”“Today's your birthday ,” sneered Dudley. “How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?”“Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school,” said Harry coolly.Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.“Why're you staring at the hedge?” he said suspiciously.“I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire,” said Harry.Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face.“You c-can't - Dad told you you're not to do m-magic - he said he'll chuck you out of the house - and you haven't got anywhere else to go - you haven't got any friends to take you—”“Jiggery pokery!” said Harry in a fierce voice. ” Hocus pocus - squiggly wiggly - ”“MUUUUUUM!” howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. “MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!”Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself… maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts…Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now , he thought savagely as he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him.“Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!”Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.“Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!” snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. “Upstairs! Hurry!”As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.“Remember, boy - one sound—”Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.
在普里怀特街四号房里面已经不止一次在早饭的时候发生争吵了。维能。杜史林先生一大清早就被从他外甥——哈利房间里传出来的响亮的猫头鹰叫声吵醒了。 　　“这个星期第三次了！”他在餐桌的那边吼道。“要是你不能管住那只猫头鹰，它就得消失！” 　　哈利还想再解释。 　　“它闷了，”他说道，“它习惯了在外面飞的。要是能在晚上放它出去的话……” 　　“我有这么笨吗？”维能姨丈吼道，一小块煎蛋正在他浓密的胡子外边摇摆不定。“我很清楚放那只猫头鹰出去将意味着什么。” 　　在妻子一摇一晃的帮助下他换上了黑色的衣服。 　　哈利想反驳，但是他的话却被杜史林家的儿子达德里长而响的饱嗝声盖住了。 　　“我还想再要点黛肉。” 　　“煎锅里还有，宝贝，”帕尤妮亚姨妈说道，朦胧的眼睛转向了她那高大的儿子。“我们有机会就得把你喂得饱饱的……学校的食物听起来就叫我讨厌……” 　　“废话，帕尤妮亚，当我还在史马丁的时候就从来没饿过，”维能姨丈兴奋地说道。“吃饱了，对不对，儿子？” 　达德望朝着哈利咧嘴笑了笑，他那肥大的身体让他的屁股都垂出了椅子外面。 　　“把煎锅递过来。” 　　“你忘了说那个有魔力的字了。”哈利烦躁地说。 　　这句简单的话对家里其他人的影响却很出乎意料：随着一下碰撞声，达德里喘着气从椅子上摔了下来，震动了整个厨房；杜史林太太用手捂住嘴巴小声地尖叫了一下；杜史林先生则跳了起来，可以清晰地看见他太阳穴上的血管不断地颤动着。 　　“我是想说‘请’！”哈利急忙说。“我不是故意——” 　　“我告诉过你什么，‘他姨丈唾沫四溅、打雷般地叫道，”关于在我问家里不能说那带魔字的话？” 　　“可是我——” 　　“你竟敢威胁达德里！”维能姨丈愤怒地用拳头捶打着桌面吼道。 　　“我只是——” 　　“我警告你！在这所房子里面我是不会容忍你那超能力的！” 　　哈利的目光从他那涨红脸的姨丈移到他脸色苍白的姨妈那儿，她正试着扶起达德里。 　　“好的，”哈利，“我知道了……” 　　维能姨丈像头犀牛般喘着粗气重新坐了下来，并且用他那小而锐利的眼睛余光紧紧地瞥着哈利。 　　自从哈利回家度暑假以来，维能姨丈就把他当作是一个随时都会引爆的炸弹，因为哈利并不是一个普通的男孩。事实上，他并非一般的不普通。 　　哈利坡特是一个巫士——一个在霍格瓦彻魔法学校刚念完一年级的小巫士。其实要是杜史林家不高兴地回来度假，对他来说也并没什么。 　　他非常怀念霍格瓦沏，就像得了长期胃疼那样。他怀念那城堡，里面的神秘通道和幽灵，他的课程（尽管可能是药剂教授史纳皮教的），猫头鹰送来的信件，大厅里的筵席，睡在那塔楼宿舍里的四人床上，到紧挨着禁林的空地上的小屋去拜访禽猎看守人哈格力，尤其是在巫师界中最受欢迎的运动快迪斯球（六根高高的门柱，四个飞着的球和十四个骑着扫帚的球员）。 　　从哈利回家的那刻起，他所有的魔法书、魔杖、长袍、大锅和“灵光2000”扫帚统统被继能姨丈锁在楼梯下的壁橱里。如果哈利因为整个暑假没有练习而不能参加室内快迪斯球队，他们会在乎吗？如果哈利没有完成作业就回校，对杜史林家来说又能怎样呢？杜史林他们一家就是巫师所说的马格人，（在他们的血管中没有丝毫的神奇血统。）并且对他们而言，家里有一个巫师简直就是奇耻大辱。维能姨丈甚至把猫头鹰海维锁进了笼里面，防止它传信给巫术界的任何人。 　　哈利和这一家子一点也不像。维能姨丈是个身材高大、短脖子的人，留着浓密的黑色胡于；帕尤妮亚姨妈长着马脸并且瘦骨嶙峋；达德里则是一头金发，肤色粉红，胖胖的。相反，哈利个子矮小，眼睛亮绿，乌黑的头发老是乱糟糟的。他戴着圆框眼镜，并且扁平的前额上有一条细细的闪电状的疤痕。 　　就是这条疤痕使得哈利在巫师中显得异乎寻常。这条疤痕是哈利神秘过去的唯一线索，由于这缘故十一年前他被遗弃在杜史林家的阶梯上。 　　一岁的时候，哈利不知何故竟能从那时最厉害的神秘男巫师——一个让大多数男巫女巫们都谈之色变的名字——黑暗巫师福尔提摩特的诅咒中活下来。哈利的父母就是死于福尔得摩特的攻击下，而哈利却因为那条疤痕逃过一劫，并且不知道什么原因——也没人明白为什么——福尔得摩特的能量就在他要杀哈利的刹那间消失了。 　　于是哈利就由他死去的母亲的姐姐和她丈夫来抚养。他已经在杜史林家呆了十年，不知道为什么老是无意识地干些稀奇古怪的事情，对杜史林家编的关于那场夺去他双亲的车祸和让他留下伤疤的故事深信不疑。 　　后来，确切的说在一年前，霍格瓦彻写信给哈利，同时他的传奇故事也就开始了。哈利进了那所巫术学校，在那里他和他那条疤痕都很出名……但现在学年结束了，他回到了杜史林家过暑期，却像一只浑身发臭的狗那样被对待。 　　杜史林一家甚至不记得今天是哈利的十二岁生日。当然，他的期望并不高；他们从来没给过一份像样的礼物，更不用说蛋糕了一除了彻底地遗忘…… 　　就在这时，维能姨丈郑重地清了清嗓子，说道：“现在，我们都很清楚。今天是个十分重要的日子。” 　　哈利抬起头，简直不敢相信自己的耳朵。 　　“今天将会是我一生当中做最大买卖的一天。”维能姨丈说道。 　　哈利重新低头吃他的烤面包。当然，他伤心地想道，维能姨丈又要讲他那愚蠢的晚宴了。他前晚已经讲得很仔细了。某位富有的建造商和他的太太将来吃晚饭，维能姨文指望从他那儿拿到巨额订单（维能姨丈的公司是制造钻孔机的）。 　　“我觉得我们该从头到尾再彩排一次，”维能姨丈说道。“我们要在八点钟各就各位。帕尤妮亚，你会在——？” 　　“在娱乐室里，”帕尤妮亚姨妈接着说，“优雅地静候他们的光临。” 　“好，好。达德里呢？” 　　“我会等着开门。”达德里皮笑肉不笑地说道。“梅森先生和太太，我可以替你们拿外套吗？” 　　“他们会喜欢你的！”帕尤妮亚姨妈狂喜地叫道。 　　“好极了，达德里。”维能姨丈说道。然后轮到哈利。“你呢？” 　　“我会呆在房里，不弄出一点声音并且假装我根本不在那儿。”哈利低声说道。 　　“对极了！”维能姨丈恶狠狠地说道。“我会带他们到娱乐室，由帕尤妮亚给他们倒喝的。八点十五分——我会宣布晚餐开始。” 　　“你呢？”维能姨丈凶巴巴又一次地对哈利说道。 　　“我会呆在房里，不弄出一点声音并假装我根本不在那儿。”哈利闷闷不乐地答。 　　‘好。现在我们该想想晚饭时说些什么恭维话。帕尤妮亚，你说呢？” 　　“梅森先生，维能告诉我你是个出色的高尔夫球手……梅森太太，你一定得告诉我你的这袭礼服在哪买的……” 　　“好极了……达德里呢？” 　　“在学校我们写过一篇关于我们时代英雄的文章，我写的就是你，梅森先生。这个怎么样？” 　　听到这里，帕尤妮亚姨妈号哭起来并且紧紧地拥抱着儿子，而哈利却躲在桌底下偷笑。 　　“你呢？”维能姨丈再一次提醒哈利。 　　哈利在钻出桌底以前，努　　“我会呆在房里，不弄出一点声音并且假装我根本不在那儿。”他说道。 　　“很好，”维能姨丈重重地说道。“梅森一家压根儿就不知道你，保持这样就行了。晚餐结束后，帕尤妮亚，你带梅森太太回到娱乐室里喝咖啡，我会围绕钻孔机展开话题的。走运的话，我们就会在十点钟新闻之前签好合同。明晚的这个时候我们就能在马加卡买套度假屋了……”哈利对此并不感到兴奋，即便在马加卡，他受的待遇不见得会比目前在普里怀特街的好多少。 　　“对了——我要到镇上一趟，给达德里和自己挑件礼服。而你，” 　　他向哈利吼道，“在你姨妈搞清洁的时候，你离她远点儿。” 　　哈利从后门离开了家。天气很好，阳光明媚。他越过草地，躺在花园的长椅上并低声地唱着，“祝我生日快乐……祝我生日快乐伤地盯着篱笆，议没感到如此的寂寞过。哈利想念他和最好的朋友罗恩。威斯里与荷米恩。格林住在霍格瓦彻的一切事物，还有打快迪斯球。虽然他们不见得也在想他。整个暑假他们都没给他写信，虽然罗恩曾邀请过哈利来和他小住。 　　哈利无数次想通过魔法打开海维的笼子，派它给罗恩和荷米恩送信，却觉得不值得冒这个险。未够年龄的巫师是不准在校外施展法术的。哈利没有把这事告诉杜史林一家；他懂得这是他们唯一害怕他的地方，要不是怕他会把他们变成甲虫，他们早就把他锁进楼下放魔杖和扫帚的壁橱里了。回来的头两个星期，哈利喜欢低声嘀咕些废话，看着达德里拖着他那肥胖的双腿飞快地往房间外冲。 　　但是罗恩和荷米恩长时间的毫无音信使哈利觉得与魔法界隔绝了，似乎罗恩和荷米恩忘了他的生日在今天。 　　女巫师或者巫士？他几乎会很高兴再见到他的老对手杰高。马尔夫，仅仅计他相信这一切并不是他的幻觉…… 　　在霍格瓦彻的这一年都不是很有趣的。就在期末，他还正面迎击了福尔得摩特爵士本人。福尔得摩特可能已经大不如前了，但他仍旧很吓人，很狡诈，还企图重获能量。哈利第二次逃出了福尔得摩特的掌心，但是这次却很惊险，而且直到现在——数周以后，哈利夜里还会惊醒起来，毛衣都湿透了，猜疑着福尔得摩特现在会在哪儿，记着他那青紫色的脸和那双大而疯狂的眼睛…… 　　突然哈利在长椅上闪电般地坐直。他出神地盯着篱笆——并且篱笆也盯着他。 　　两只巨大的绿眼睛从树叶中冒了出来。 　　哈利马上跳了起来，同时一阵嘲笑的声音从草地那边传了过来。 　“我知道今天是什么日子。”达德里嚷道，并朝着他慢慢走来。 　他的眼睛一眨一眨的。 　　“什么？”哈利目不转睛地说道。 　　“我知道今天是什么日子。”达德里来到他跟前重复道。 　　“很好，”哈利道。“这些天你终于有长进了。” 　　“今天是你的生日，”达德里讥讽道。“怎么，还没收到卡片吗？你的那些来自怪诞地方的朋友呢？” 　　“最好不要让你妈听到你谈论我那学校！”哈利冷冷地说道。 　　达德里拉了一下他那快要滑到屁股的裤子。 　　“为什么你一直盯着篱笆呢？”他疑惑地问。 　　“我在想什么会是使它烧起来的最佳咒语。”哈利道。 　　达德里马上往后踉跄了一下，脸色苍白。 　　“你不——不能——爸爸说过不许你施法——法术的——他说过他会把你扔出屋去的——而且你也没地方可去了——没有朋友会带你走——”你骗人！“哈利急躁地说道。”哈格斯，波格斯……天灵灵，地灵灵……”“哇——“达德里嚎陶大哭，一跌一撞地冲回屋子。”妈——妈！ 　　他正在干那事，你知道的！“那一刻哈利觉得很开心。达德里和篱笆都没有丝毫的损伤，帕尤妮亚姨妈知道他不会真的施魔法的。当她用那滑腻腻的煎锅狠敲他的头时，他还是不得不低头。 　　随后她吩咐他干活，不干完就不许吃饭。 　　正当达德里懒洋洋地靠着沙发吃雪糕时，哈利却在擦窗，洗车，修剪草坪，修剪花床，剪除和灌溉玫瑰以及重漆花园里的长椅。太阳在头顶上晒着，灼烧着哈利的颈背。哈利知道他不应该欺负达德里的，但达德里说中了他心里的想法……可能他在霍格瓦彻真的没有朋友…… 　　“真想现在就让他们见识一下著名的哈利。波特。”他边想着，边往花床上撒肥料，背部很是酸痛，汗水顺着他的脸流了下来。 　　晚上七点半，筋疲力尽的他终于听到帕尤妮亚姨妈叫他了。 　　“到这儿来！走在报纸上！别踏脏了地板！” 　　哈利高兴地走进程亮发光的厨房，在冰箱的顶上放着晚宴上的布丁：生奶油和紫罗兰糖花堆得高高的。一大块烤肉正在烘箱里滋滋作响。 　　“快吃！梅森一家就要来了！”帕卡妮亚姨妈指着餐桌上的两片面包和一小片奶酪，不耐烦地说。她已经穿上了一件嫩粉色的鸡尾晚礼服。 　　哈利洗完手，囫囵吞枣地咽下他糟糕的晚餐。他一吃完，帕尤妮亚姨妈就收起了他的碟于。“上楼去！赶快！” 　　经过客厅的门时，哈利瞥到维能姨丈和达德平戴着领结，也穿好了礼服。他才刚到楼上，门铃就响了，同时维能姨丈那兴奋的脸在楼梯底冒了出来。 　　“记住，哈利——不准出声……” 　　哈利踮着脚尖回到房间，闪进房里，关上门后虚脱般地倒在床上。 　　麻烦的是，已经有东西坐在了床上。
Chapter 2 Dobby’s Warning
Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Harry knew instantly that this was what had been watching him out of the garden hedge that morning.As they stared at each other, Harry heard Dudley's voice from the hall.“May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?”The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Harry noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm- and leg-holes.“Er - hello,” said Harry nervously.“Harry Potter!” said the creature in a high-pitched voice Harry was sure would carry down the stairs. “So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honor it is…”“Th-thank you,” said Harry, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. He wanted to ask, “What are you?” but thought it would sound too rude, so instead he said, “Who are you?”“Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf,” said the creature.“Oh - really?” said Harry. “Er - I don't want to be rude or anything, but - this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom.”Aunt Petunias high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head.“Not that I'm not pleased to meet you,” said Harry quickly, “but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?”“Oh, yes, sir,” said Dobby earnestly. “Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…”“Sit down,” said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.To his horror, the elf burst into tears - very noisy tears.“S-sit down!” he wailed. ” Never … never ever…”Harry thought he heard the voices downstairs falter.“I'm sorry,” he whispered, “I didn't mean to offend you or anything—”“Offend Dobby!” choked the elf. “Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard - like an equal—”Harry, trying to say “Shh!” and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration.“You can't have met many decent wizards,” said Harry, trying to cheer him up.Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, ” Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”“Don't - what are you doing?” Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed - Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.“Dobby had to punish himself, sir,” said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. “Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…”“Your family?”“The wizard family Dobby serves, sir… Dobby is a house-elf - bound to serve one house and one family forever…”“Do they know you're here?” asked Harry curiously.Dobby shuddered.“Oh, no, sir, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir—”“But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?”“Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments…”“But why don't you leave? Escape?”“A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free… Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…”Harry stared.“And I thought I had it bad staying here for another four weeks,” he said. “This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?”Almost at once, Harry wished he hadn't spoken. Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude.“Please,” Harry whispered frantically, “please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here—”“Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby… Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew…”Harry, who was feeling distinctly hot in the face, said, “Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that's Hermione, she—”But he stopped quickly, because thinking about Hermione was painful.“Harry Potter is humble and modest,” said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. “Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—”“Voldemort?” said Harry.Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, “Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!”“Sorry,” said Harry quickly. “I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ron—”He stopped again. Thinking about Ron was painful, too.Dobby leaned toward Harry, his eyes wide as headlights.“Dobby heard tell,” he said hoarsely, “that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped yet again .”Harry nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears.“Ah, sir,” he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. “Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later… Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts .”There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon's voice.“W-what?” Harry stammered. “But I've got to go back - term starts on September first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here. I belong in your world - at Hogwarts.”“No, no, no,” squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. “Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.”“Why?” said Harry in surprise.“There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year,” whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. “Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!”“What terrible things?” said Harry at once. “Who's plotting them?”Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.“All right!” cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. “You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?” A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. “Hang on - this hasn't got anything to do with Vol- - sorry - with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod,” he added hastily as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.Slowly, Dobby shook his head.“Not - not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named , sir—”But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint. Harry, however, was completely lost.“He hasn't got a brother, has he?”Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever.“Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts,” said Harry. “I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing - you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?”Dobby bowed his head.“Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir” - Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper - “there are powers Dumbledore doesn't… powers no decent wizard…”And before Harry could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Harry, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, “Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!”“Quick! In the closet!” hissed Harry, stuffing Dobby in, shutting the door, and flinging himself onto the bed just as the door handle turned.“What - the - devil - are - you - doing?” said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Harry's. “You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke… One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!”He stomped flat-footed from the room.Shaking, Harry let Dobby out of the closet.“See what it's like here?” he said. “See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got - well, I think I've got friends.”“Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?” said Dobby slyly.“I expect they've just been - wait a minute,” said Harry, frowning. “How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?”Dobby shuffled his feet.“Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best—”“Have you been stopping my letters? ”“Dobby has them here, sir,” said the elf. Stepping nimbly out of Harry's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. Harry could make out Hermione's neat writing, Ron's untidy scrawl, and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid.Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry.“Harry Potter mustn't be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir…”Harry wasn't listening. He made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.“Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!”“No,” said Harry angrily. “Give me my friends'letters!”“Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice,” said the elf sadly.Before Harry could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and sprinted down the stairs.Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Harry sprang after him, trying not to make a sound. He jumped the last six steps, landing catlike on the hall carpet, looking around for Dobby. From the dining room he heard Uncle Vernon saying, “… tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She's been dying to hear…”Harry ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt his stomach disappear.Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.“No,” croaked Harry. “Please… they'll kill me…”“Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school—”“Dobby… please…”“Say it, sir—”“I can't—”Dobby gave him a tragic look.“Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter's own good.”The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished.There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Harry, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunia's pudding.At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over. ("Just our nephew -very disturbed - meeting strangers upsets him, so we kept him upstairs…") He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised Harry he would flay him to within an inch of his life when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice cream out of the freezer and Harry, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean.Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal - if it hadn't been for the owl.Aunt Petunia was just passing around a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head, and swooped out again. Mrs. Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.Harry stood in the kitchen, clutching the mop for support, as Uncle Vernon advanced on him, a demonic glint in his tiny eyes.“Read it!” he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. “Go on - read it!”Harry took it. It did not contain birthday greetings.Dear Mr. Potter,We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school. (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks'Statute of Secrecy.Enjoy your holidays!Yours sincerely,Mafalda HopkirkIMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICEMinistry of MagicHarry looked up from the letter and gulped.“You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school,” said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. “Forgot to mention it… Slipped your mind, I daresay…”He was bearing down on Harry like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. “Well, I've got news for you, boy… I'm locking you up… You're never going back to that school… never… and if you try and magic yourself out - they'll expel you!”And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry back upstairs.Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Harry's window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock.Three days later, the Dursleys were showing no sign of relenting, and Harry couldn't see any way out of his situation. He lay on his bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to him.What was the good of magicking himself out of his room if Hogwarts would expel him for doing it? Yet life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. Now that the Dursleys knew they weren't going to wake up as fruit bats, he had lost his only weapon. Dobby might have saved Harry from horrible happenings at Hogwarts, but the way things were going, he'd probably starve to death anyway.The cat-flap rattled and Aunt Petunias hand appeared, pushing a bowl of canned soup into the room. Harry, whose insides were aching with hunger, jumped off his bed and seized it. The soup was stone-cold, but he drank half of it in one gulp. Then he crossed the room to Hedwig's cage and tipped the soggy vegetables at the bottom of the bowl into her empty food tray. She ruffled her feathers and gave him a look of deep disgust.“It's no good turning your beak up at it - that's all we've got,” said Harry grimly.He put the empty bowl back on the floor next to the cat-flap and lay back down on the bed, somehow even hungrier than he had been before the soup.Supposing he was still alive in another four weeks, hat would happen if he didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why he hadn't come back? Would they be able to make the Dursleys let him go?The room was growing dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, Harry fell into an uneasy sleep.He dreamed that he was on show in a zoo, with a card reading UNDERAGE WIZARD attached to his cage. People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw. He saw Dobby's face in the crowd and shouted out, asking for help, but Dobby called, “Harry Potter is safe there, sir!” and vanished. Then the Dursleys appeared and Dudley rattled the bars of the cage, laughing at him.“Stop it,” Harry muttered as the rattling pounded in his sore head. “Leave me alone… cut it out… I'm trying to sleep…”He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone.Ron Weasley was outside Harry's window.
哈利设法让自己不要喊出声来，但险些儿就砸了。那个在床上的小精灵长着大大的而且像蝙蝠那样的耳朵，像网球般大小的凸出的绿眼睛。哈利立刻意识到这就是他早上一直盯着的那只在花园篱笆外的东西。 　　就在他们互相对视的时候，哈利听到从大厅传来达德里的声音。 　　“梅森先生和太太，我可以替你们拿外套吗？” 　　那个小精灵滑下了床并深深地鞠躬，它那长而扁的鼻子几乎碰到了地毯。哈利注意到它所穿的衣服就像一只只留出手和脚位置的枕头套。 　　“呃——你好。”哈利紧张地说道。 　　“哈利。波特！”小精灵道，哈利肯定它那高八度的声音会传到楼下去的。 　　“先生，多比久仰你的大名……实在是太荣幸……” 　　“谢——谢谢，”哈利边讲边沿着墙壁慢慢挪动，同时躲到了正在笼子里睡觉的海维旁边的桌椅底下。他想问“你是什么东西？”，但转念想似乎粗鲁了些，于是改问，“你是谁？” 　　“多比，先生，就是多比。多比，小精灵。”小精灵道。 　　“哦——真的吗？”哈利道。“呃——我不是有意无礼或什么的，但是——现在在我的房间里有一个小精灵对我来说并非是件好事。” 　　帕尤妮亚姨妈那响亮而虚假的笑声从客厅传来。小精灵昂起了头。 　　“不是我不愿见到你，”哈利急忙说，“但是，呃，你来这里有什么特别的理由吗？” 　　“哦，是的，先生。‘步比急切地说道。”多比来是要告诉你，先生……有点难，先生……多比不知从何说起……”“坐吧。“哈利指了指床礼貌地说道。 　　让他害怕的是，小精灵突然哭了——而且很刺耳。 　　“坐——坐呀！”他哀求道。“你别……别这样……” 　　哈利隐约听到楼下的声音。 　　“对不起，”他低声道，“我不是有意冒犯你。” 　　“冒犯多比！”小精灵哽咽了。“多比从来就未被巫师请坐过——像个同辈般——” 　　哈利小声地发出“嘘，小一声！”，并且安慰似地看着他，然后带着打着见的多比重新坐回床上，他看起来就像一个大而丑的洋娃娃。 　　后来他能控制自己了，并且满怀崇敬地注视着哈利坐了下来。 　　“你肯定没遇过多少好的巫师。”哈利试着鼓励它说道。 　　多比摇了摇头。然后，毫无征兆地一跃而起同时用头猛烈地撞击着窗户，喊着。 　　“坏多比！坏多比！” 　　“不要这样——你在干什么？”哈利发着嘘声，跳起把多比拉回了床上。伴着一声响亮的嘶叫声，海维醒了用力地拿翅膀拍打着笼子的栏杆。 　　“先生，多比得自我惩罚，”小精灵说道，它的眼睛变得有点斜视。 　　“多比是为一个巫师家庭服务的。” 　　“多比是一所房子的精灵——职责是要永远为一所房子和一个家庭效劳……” 　　“他们知道你在这儿吗？”哈利好奇地问道。 　　“哦不，先生，不……先生，多比会因为来看你而要严厉惩罚自己的。多比会因为这个，耳朵被夹在烤炉门上的。要是让他们知道的话，先生——” 　　“但是他们不会知道你把自己的耳朵夹在烤炉门上吗？” 　　“先生，多比猜他们是知道的。多比总是要为某些事而惩罚自己，先生。他们不管多比继续做下去。有时他们还提醒我做些额外的处罚……” 　　“但是你为什么不离开呢？逃跑呢？” 　　“一个小精灵一定得不到释放，先生。这个家庭绝对不会解放多比的……多比要一直为这个家庭效劳直到它死，先生……” 　　哈利瞪大了眼睛。 　　“我想我要在这儿受四个星期的罪已经够惨的，”他说。“不过这样听起来杜史林一家还有点人情味。没有人能帮你吗？我不能吗？” 　　几乎就在同时，哈利因希望他没讲过这句话。多比感激得涕泪横流。 　　“请，”哈利急急低声道。“请安静。要是杜史林一家听到些什么。要是他们知道你在这儿……” 　　“哈利。波特问他能否帮助多比……多比早听说你的厉害了，先生，但却从不知你的善良……” 　　哈利脸上感到阵阵火热，说道，“不管你听到了什么关于我的厉害的事，那不过是一堆垃圾。在霍格瓦彻学校我不是最厉害的，荷米恩才是。她——” 　　但是很快他就停了下来，因为想到荷米恩就让他难过。 　　“哈利。波特真谦虚，”多比虔诚地说道，球状的眼睛通红。“哈利。波特没讲他战胜那个不能提及名字的人的事呢？” 　　“福尔得摩特吗？”哈利说道。 　　多比用手捂住耳朵恳求道，“啊，别说那名字，先生！别说！” 　　“对不起，”哈利急忙说。“我知道很多人不喜欢它——一我的朋友罗恩……” 　　他又停了下来，因为想到罗恩也让他难过。 　　“多比听到有传闻，”它嘶哑地说，“哈利。波特两次遇到黑暗巫师，就在数周前……哈利。波特再次逃脱了。” 　　哈利点点头，突然多比的眼眶攒满了泪花。 　　“啊，先生，”他喘着气，用他穿着的枕头套邋遢的一角擦了擦脸。 　　“哈利。波特是勇敢和大胆的！他英勇地面临过许多危险！但是现在多比得来保护哈利。波特，警告他，即使他以后要把自己的耳朵夹在烤炉门上……哈利。波特不能再回霍格瓦彻了。” 　　一阵沉默。楼下的刀叉碰撞声和远远的维能姨丈低沉的声音不时地传了过来。 　　“什——什么？”哈利结巴地说道。“但是我一定得回去——九月一号就要开学了。它使我能够撑下去。你不知道这里的生活是怎样的。我不属于这里。我属于你们的世界——在霍格瓦彻。” 　　“不，不，不，”多比尖叫着，拼命地摇头拍打着耳朵。“哈利。波特得呆在安全的地方。他太伟大，太善良，太少有了。要是哈利。波特回霍格瓦彻，他会有很大的危险的。” 　　“为什么？”哈利惊奇地问道。 　　“一个阴谋，哈利。波特。今年在霍格瓦彻魔法学校里有一个企图制造最恐怖事件的阴谋，”多比忽然浑身发抖低声道。“多比几个月前就知道了，先生。哈利。波特不能去冒险。他实在是太重要了，先生！” 　　“够了！”哈利喊道，抓住小精灵的手臂制止它。“你不能说，我知道了。但是你为什么要警告我呢？”一个突然的、不快的念头一闪而过。“抬起头——这与福——对不起——‘那个人’有没有关系？你只要摇头或点头就行了。”他加了一句，因为多比的头又让人担心地靠向了墙壁。 　　慢慢地多比摇了摇头。 　　“不——不是那个不能提及的人，先生。” 　　多比眼睛睁得大大的，好像在给哈利暗示。可是哈利却完全摸不清头脑。 　　“他没有兄弟，对吗？” 　　多比摇了摇头，眼睛睁得更大了。 　　“那么，我想不出还会有谁可以在霍格瓦彻制造恐怖事件的，”哈利说道。 　　“我是指丹伯多，一个原因——你知道谁是丹伯多吧？” 　　多比点点头。 　　“艾伯斯。丹伯多是霍格瓦彻有史以来最厉害的校长。多比知道他，先生。多比听说丹伯多的法力是他那级别里可与那不能提及的人抗衡的。但是先生，”多比顿了一下急促地低声说，“那恐怖事件是由邪恶力量……” 　　哈利还来不及制止它，多比就跳离床铺，抓住哈利的台灯就往脑袋上砸，发出尖锐刺耳的叫声。楼下突然一片沉寂。两秒后，心跳不已的哈利听到维能姨丈走进大厅，喊道，“达德里一定是忘了关电视了，这孩子！” 　　“快！到衣橱去！”哈利进嘘声把多比塞进去，关上橱门并飞快回到床上，就在那时门把给拧开了。 　　“你究竟在干什么坏事？”维能姨丈把脸凑到哈利眼前咬牙切齿地说道。“你刚破坏了我谈话中的精彩部分……再发出一点声音，你就别想活了，小子！” 　　他一跺脚离开了房间。 　　哈利颤抖着，把多比从农橱里放了出来。 　　“这里是什么样的生活看到了吧？”他说道。“明白我为什么得回霍格瓦彻了吧？它是我唯一可去的地方——呢，我觉得我在那儿有朋友了。” 　　“整个假期都不写信给哈利。波特的朋友吗？”多比顽皮地说道。 　　“我希望他们在——等等，”哈利皱着眉头说。“你怎么知道我的朋友没给我写信呢？” 　　多比玩弄着他的脚。 　　“哈利。波特不要生多比的气——多比这样做是为了你好……” 　　“你截住了我的信？” 　　“多比把他们都带来了，先生，”小精灵道。它敏捷地走到哈利够不着的地方，从穿着的枕头套里面拉出厚厚的一叠信。哈利认出荷米恩整洁的笔迹，罗恩零乱的草书以及一封好像是自霍格瓦彻禽猎管理员哈格力的信。 　　多比担心地朝哈利眨着眼睛。 　　“哈利。波特你不要生气……多比想……要是哈利。波特以为朋友都忘了他的话，哈利。波特就不会再想回学校的……” 　　哈利不听它的。他想抢过信件，但多比跳开了。 　　“哈利。波特会拿到它们的，先生，如果他答应多比他不再回霍格瓦彻的话。 　　啊，先生，这可是你不能面对的危险啊！说你不会回去吧，先生！” 　　“不，”哈利生气地说道。“把好朋友的信给我！” 　　“那么是哈利。波特逼得多比没有选择。”小精灵悲伤地说道。 　　在哈利行动之前，多比飞奔至房门，拉开门——奔下楼梯。 　　口干舌燥的哈利轻轻地跟着奔下了楼。他跳过最后六级楼梯，像猫那样停在大厅的地毯上，四周张望寻找多比的行踪。从餐厅那他听到维能姨丈说，“……梅森先生，告诉帕尤妮亚那些关于美国水管工人的有趣的故律吧，她可想听了……” 　　哈利从大厅跑进厨房，一下子胃口全无了。 　　帕尤妮亚姨妈的杰作——奶油和紫罗兰糖花以及堆积如山的布丁正靠着房顶飘浮着。而多比则缩在柜橱顶的一角。 　　“别，”哈利哑着声音说道。“求求你……他们会杀了我的……” 　　“哈利。波特得说他不回学校了——” 　　“多比……求求你……” 　　“说吧，先生” 　　“不能！” 　　多比一副悲哀的表情。 　　“那么多比只得这么做了，先生，这是为了哈利。波特好。” 　　随着一下惊心动魄地响落声，布丁摔到了地板上。碟子碎了，奶油溅到窗户和墙上四处都是。伴着一声鞭打似的碎裂声，多比消失了。 　　餐厅那儿的尖叫此起彼伏，维能姨丈冲进厨房看到哈利从头到脚都粘着帕尤妮亚姨妈的市丁，震惊得面无表情。 　　起先，维能姨丈还尽力掩饰整件事——“只是我们的外甥——很捣蛋——不习惯见生人，所以我们让他呆在楼上……”他把受惊的梅森先生往回赶后，告诉哈利只要梅森家一离开他就会教训他，并递给他一把地拖。帕尤妮亚姨妈从冰箱中取出了一些雪糕，而还在发抖的哈利则开始把厨房弄干净。 　　维能姨丈可能还会做成他的买卖的——要不是因为那只猫头鹰的话。 　　当一只大猫头鹰从餐厅的窗外突然飞扑而来的时候，帕尤妮亚姨妈正派发着餐后薄荷糖，猫头鹰掉了一封信在梅森太太的头上并又飞了出去。梅森太太像个女妖精似的尖叫起来，嘴里喊着疯子，冲出了房子。梅森先生仅仅向杜史林家交代了他的太太最怕各样的马，并且问这个是否是他们开的玩笑后就走了。 　　当维能姨丈目露凶光找到他时，哈利正站在厨房里，紧握着拖把支撑着自己。 　　“念一下！”他恶狠狠地说着，手里挥舞着刚才猫头鹰弄来的那封信。“来啊——念呀！” 　　哈利拿着信。信里并没有生日祝福。 　　亲爱的波特先生：我们收到线报获悉今晚九点十二分时，你的居所处使用了“盘旋”咒语。 　　你应该知道，未够年龄的巫师是不准在校外施法的，倘若再犯会被学校开除（未成年人巫术合理约束教令，1875，C节）。 　　我们同样要求你记住巫术的国际联邦巫师条令中第13部分，任何要冒会被（马格）发现的危险的魔法行为是严重的犯罪行为。 　　祝你暑期愉快！ 　　你真诚的：马法达。霍克禁止魔法不当使用办公室魔法部哈利抬起眼井咽了一下口水。 　　“你可从来没有告诉我们你不能在校外使用魔力的，”维能姨丈说道，在闪动着阴险的光芒。“忘了提起它……忘了，我敢说……” 　　他像一头牛头犬，龇着牙冲向哈利。“唔，我有话对你说，孩子……我要把你锁起来……你从此再也别想回那所学校了……从此……如果你要施法逃走——他们会把你开除的！” 　　他狂笑着把哈利拖回楼上。 　　维能姨丈言出必行。第二天早上，他请人来给哈利的窗钉上横木。他自己则在房门那儿装上个猫洞活门，这样可以每天三次把少量吃的推进房里。他们只让哈利早上和晚上出来用一下浴室。其余时间，他都被锁在房里。 　　三天后，杜史林家还没有一点缓和的迹象，哈利也没办法改变现状。他躺在床上透过窗上的横木看看日落，伤心地想着往后的事。 　　如果霍格瓦彻因为他施魔法救自己出去而把他开除，那对他有什么好处呢？然而在普里怀特街的生活却达到了空前的低声下气。 　　现在杜史林一家可以安枕无忧了，哈利连他唯一的武器也没有了。 　　多比可能是把哈利从霍格瓦彻的恶梦中救出来了，但处境却大同小异，他都快要给饿死了。 　　——猫洞活门咯吱一响，帕尤妮亚姨丈州的手抻了进来一碗罐头汤。在里面正饿得难受的哈利马上跳下床并捧起了那汤。汤是冰冷的，但他一口气就快喝了一半了。然后他走过房间来到海维的笼子前，倒了些碗底的浸水菜叶到它那空食物碟上。 　　它整理着自己的羽毛，极厌恶的瞅了他一眼。 　　“不吃对你没好处，我们只有这些。” 　　他把空碗放回挨着活门的地板上，然后回床上躺下，不知怎么搞的地甚至比没吃时候还要饿。 　　如果四星期后他还活着，他没回霍格瓦彻那会怎样呢？是否有人会被派来看看他为什么没回去呢？他们能否让杜史林一家放他走呢？” 　　房子渐渐暗了下来。哈利筋疲力倦，肚子咕咕作响，脑子一直绕着相同的没有答案的问题在转，好不容易才睡着了。 　　他梦见自己被关在一个挂着“未成年巫师”牌子的动物园笼子里供人参观。人们通过栏杆瞪大眼睛看着他躺在稻草床上挨饿和慢慢变得虚弱。在人群中他看到了多比，他朝它喊着救命，但是多比说“哈利。波特在那儿很安全，先生！”并一下子消失了。然后杜史林一家出现了，嘲笑着他，并且达德里把栏杆摇得喀哒作响。 　　“不要，”哈利嘀咕着，好像那喀哒声弄得他很头疼似的。“让我一个人呆着……切断它……我想睡觉……” 　　他睁开了眼睛。月光透过窗上的横木照了进来。有人在横木后面看着他：一个脸上有雀斑，红发，长鼻子的人。 　　罗恩。威斯里出现在哈利的窗外。
Chapter 3 The Burrow
“Ron.” breathed Harry, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars. “Ron, how did you -? What the -?”Harry's mouth fell open as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him. Ron was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in midair . Grinning at Harry from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers.“All right, Harry?” asked George.“What's been going on?” said Ron. “Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles—”“It wasn't me - and how did he know?”“He works for the Ministry,” said Ron. “You know we're not supposed to do spells outside school—”“You should talk,” said Harry, staring at the floating car.“Oh, this doesn't count,” said Ron. “We're only borrowing this. It's Dad's, we didn't enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with—”“I told you, I didn't - but it'll take too long to explain now - look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won't let me come back, and obviously I can't magic myself out, because the Ministry'll think that's the second spell I've done in three days, so—”“Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We've come to take you home with us.”“But you can't magic me out either—”“We don't need to,” said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. “You forget who I've got with me.”“Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry.“If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead,” said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car.“Don't worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.”Harry moved back into the shadows next to Hedwig, who seemed to have realized how important this was and kept still and silent. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up in the air. Harry ran back to the window to see the bars dangling a few feet above the ground. Panting, Ron hoisted them up into the car. Harry listened anxiously, but there was no sound from the Dursleys'bedroom.When the bars were safely in the back seat with Ron, Fred reversed as close as possible to Harry's window.“Get in,” Ron said.“But all my Hogwarts stuff - my wand - my broomstick—”“Where is it?”“Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room—”“No problem,” said George from the front passenger seat. “Out of the way, Harry.”Fred and George climbed catlike through the window into Harry's room. You had to hand it to them, thought Harry, as George took an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the lock.“A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick,” said Fred, “but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow.”There was a small click and the door swung open.“So - we'll get your trunk - you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron,” whispered George.“Watch out for the bottom stair - it creaks,” Harry whispered back as the twins disappeared onto the dark landing.Harry dashed around his room, collecting his things and passing them out of the window to Ron. Then he went to help Fred and George heave his trunk up the stairs. Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough.At last, panting, they reached the landing, then carried the trunk through Harry's room to the open window. Fred climbed back into the car to pull with Ron, and Harry and George pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window.Uncle Vernon coughed again.“A bit more,” panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. “One good push—”Harry and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car.“Okay, let's go,” George whispered.But as Harry climbed onto the windowsill there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon's voice.“THAT RUDDY OWL!”“I've forgotten Hedwig!”Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on - he snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it out to Ron. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door - and it crashed open.For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.Ron, Fred, and George seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could.“Petunia!” roared Uncle Vernon. “He's getting away! HE'S GETTING AWAY!”But the Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp - Harry was in the car - he'd slammed the door shut—“Put your foot down, Fred!” yelled Ron, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon.Harry couldn't believe it - he was free. He rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window.“See you next summer!” Harry yelled.The Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.“Let Hedwig out,” he told Ron. “She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages.”George handed the hairpin to Ron and, a moment later, Hedwig soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.“So - what's the story, Harry?” said Ron impatiently. “What's been happening?”Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given Harry and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when he had finished.“Very fishy,” said Fred finally.“Definitely dodgy” agreed George. “So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?”“I don't think he could,” said Harry. “I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall.”He saw Fred and George look at each other.“What, you think he was lying to me?” said Harry.“Well,” said Fred, “put it this way - house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?”“Yes,” said Harry and Ron together, instantly.“Draco Malfoy,” Harry explained. “He hates me.”“Draco Malfoy?” said George, turning around. “Not Lucius Malfoy's son?”“Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?” said Harry.“I've heard Dad talking about him,” said George. “He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who.”“And when You-Know-Who disappeared,” said Fred, craning around to look at Harry, “Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung - Dad reckons he was right in You- Know-Who's inner circle.”Harry had heard these rumors about Malfoy's family before, and they didn't surprise him at all. Malfoy made Dudley Dursley look like a kind, thoughtful, and sensitive boy…“I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf…” said Harry.“Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich,” said Fred.“Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing,” said George. “But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house…”Harry was silent. Judging by the fact that Draco Malfoy usually had the best of everything, his family was rolling in wizard gold; he could just see Malfoy strutting around a large manor house. Sending the family servant to stop Harry from going back to Hogwarts also sounded exactly like the sort of thing Malfoy would do. Had Harry been stupid to take Dobby seriously?“I'm glad we came to get you, anyway,” said Ron. “I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first—”“Who's Errol?”“Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes—”“Who?”“The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect,” said Fred from the front.“But Percy wouldn't lend him to me,” said Ron. “Said he needed him.”“Percy's been acting very oddly this summer,” said George, frowning. “And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room… I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge… You're driving too far west, Fred,” he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.“So, does your dad know you've got the car?” said Harry, guessing the answer.“Er, no,” said Ron, “he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it.”“What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?”“He works in the most boring department,” said Ron. “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.”“The what?”“It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare - Dad was working overtime for weeks.”“What happened?”“The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic - it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office - and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up—”“But your dad - this car—”Fred laughed. “Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad.”“That's the main road,” said George, peering down through the windshield. “We'll be there in ten minutes… Just as well, it's getting light…”A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east.Fred brought the car lower, and Harry saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.“We're a little way outside the village,” said George. “Ottery St. Catchpole.”Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees.“Touchdown!” said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron's house.It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW . Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.“It's not much,” said Ron.“It's wonderful ,” said Harry happily, thinking of Privet Drive.They got out of the car.“Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly,” said Fred, “and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, Mum, look who turned up in the night!'and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car.”“Right,” said Ron. “Come on, Harry, I sleep at the - at the top—”Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The other three wheeled around.Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.“Ah , “said Fred.“Oh, dear,” said George.Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.“So ,” she said.“Morning, Mum,” said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.“Have you any idea how worried I've been?” said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.“Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to—”All three of Mrs. Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.“Beds empty! No note! Car gone - could have crashed - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy -”“Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred.“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. “You could have died , you could have been seen , you could have lost your father his job—”It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who backed away.“I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” she said. “Come in and have some breakfast.”She turned and walked back into the house and Harry, after a nervous glance at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, followed her.The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and Harry sat down on the edge of his seat, looking around. He had never been in a wizard house before.The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like Time to make tea, Time to feed the chickens , and You're late . Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts - It's Magic! And unless Harry's ears were deceiving him, the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was “Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck.”Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like “don't know what you were thinking of,” and ” never would have believed it.”“I don't blame you , dear,” she assured Harry, tipping eight or nine sausages onto his plate. “Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really,” (she was now adding three fried eggs to his plate) “flying an illegal car halfway across the country - anyone could have seen you—”She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.“It was cloudy , Mum!” said Fred.“You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped.“They were starving him, Mum!” said George.“And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.“Ginny,” said Ron in an undertone to Harry. “My sister. She's been talking about you all summer.”“Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry,” Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.“Blimey , I'm tired,” yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. “I think I'll go to bed and—”“You will not,” snapped Mrs. Weasley. “It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again—”“Oh, Mum—”“And you two,” she said, glaring at Ron and Fred. “You can go up to bed, dear,” she added to Harry. “You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car—”But Harry, who felt wide awake, said quickly, “I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming—”“That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject—”And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned.“Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden—”Harry looked at the cover of Mrs. Weasley's book. Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests . There was a big photograph on the front of a very good-looking wizard with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. As always in the wizarding world, the photograph was moving; the wizard, who Harry supposed was Gilderoy Lockhart, kept winking cheekily up at them all. Mrs. Weasley beamed down at him.“Oh, he is marvelous,” she said. “He knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book…”“Mum fancies him,” said Fred, in a very audible whisper.“Don't be so ridiculous, Fred,” said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. “All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it.”Yawning and grumbling, the Weasleys slouched outside with Harry behind them. The garden was large, and in Harry's eyes, exactly what a garden should be. The Dursleys wouldn't have liked it - there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting - but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.“Muggles have garden gnomes, too, you know,” Harry told Ron they crossed the lawn.“Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes,” said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush, “like fat little Santa Clauses with fishing rods…”There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered, and Ron straightened up. ” This is a gnome,” he said grimly.“Gerroff me! Gerroff me!” squealed the gnome.It was certainly nothing like Santa Claus. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobby, bald head exactly like a potato. Ron held it at arm's length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.“This is what you have to do,” he said. He raised the gnome above his head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Ron added, “It doesn't hurt them -you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnome holes.”He let go of the gnome's ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.“Pitiful,” said Fred. “I bet I can get mine beyond that stump.”Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger and he had a hard job shaking it off - until—“Wow, Harry - that must've been fifty feet…”The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.“See, they're not too bright,” said George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. “The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put.”Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched.“They'll be back,” said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. “They love it here… Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny…”Just then, the front door slammed.“He's back!” said George. “Dad's home!”They hurried through the garden and back into the house.Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.“What a night,” he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. “Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned…”Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.“Find anything, Dad?” said Fred eagerly.“All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle,” yawned Mr. Weasley. “There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness…”“Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?” said George.“Just Muggle-baiting,” sighed Mr. Weasley. “Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it… Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking - they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face… But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe—”“LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?”Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.“C-cars, Molly, dear?”“Yes, Arthur, cars,” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. “Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly .”Mr. Weasley blinked.“Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if - er - he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth… There's a loophole in the law, you'll find… As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't—”“Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!”“Harry?” said Mr. Weasley blankly. “Harry who?”He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.“Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about—”“Your sons flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “What have you got to say about that, eh?”“Did you really?” said Mr. Weasley eagerly. “Did it go all right? I - I mean,” he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, “that - that was very wrong, boys - very wrong indeed…”“Let's leave them to it,” Ron muttered to Harry as Mrs. Weasley swelled like a bullfrog. “Come on, I'll show you my bedroom.”They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap.“Ginny,” said Ron. “You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally—”They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying RONALD'S ROOM .Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace: Nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realized that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks, and waving energetically.“Your Quidditch team?” said Harry.“The Chudley Cannons,” said Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black C's and a speeding cannonball. “Ninth in the league.”Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics that all seemed to feature The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawn on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun.Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Weasleys'hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion.“It's a bit small,” said Ron quickly. “Not like that room you had with the Muggles. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning…”But Harry, grinning widely, said, “This is the best house I've ever been in.”Ron's ears went pink.
    “罗恩！”哈利惊呼道，爬到窗前并推高它，这样他们就能隔着横木说话了。 　　“罗恩，你怎么——那是——” 　　哈利被他目睹的一切吓住了，嘴巴半天都会不拢。罗恩正在一辆停在半空中的绿色汽车中斜靠在后窗外。在车前座对着哈利咧嘴笑的是弗来德和乔治，罗恩的两位孪生哥哥。 　　“哈利，好吗？” 　　“发生了什么事？”罗恩说。“为什么你不回我的信？我叫了你十二次来做客了，后来爸爸回家说你因为在马格面前施魔法而收到办公室警告……” 　　“不是我干的——他是怎么知道的？” 　　“他在魔法部工作，”罗恩说。“你知道我们是不能在校外施法的——” 　　“你变阔气了。”哈利盯着浮着的汽车说道。 　　“哦，这不算什么——”罗恩说。“我只是借的，它是爸爸的，不要被它迷惑了。但是在和你一起住的那些马格面前施法……” 　　“我说过，我没有——这要花很长的时间才能解释清楚。瞧，你能不能在霍格瓦彻向他们解释说杜史林家把我锁了起来而且不让我回去，显然我不能施法出去的，因为这样魔法部会认为是我在三天内的第二次施法，所以……” 　　“别罗嗦，”罗恩说。“我是来带你跟我们回家的。” 　　“可你一样不能施法救我出去呀——” 　　“用不着，”罗恩用头向前座方向示意，眨着眼睛说道。“你忘了我是带人来的。” 　　“把这绑在横木上。”佛来德把绳子的末端扔给哈利。 　　“要是杜史林家醒了，我会死的。”哈利边说边把绳子紧紧地缠在横木上，同时弗来德发动了汽车。 　　“别担心，”弗来德说，“退后。” 　　哈利往后挪回黑暗中紧靠着海维，它好像意识到此刻的重要性并一在保持着不动和安静。汽车启动声越来越响，弗朱德在空中径直开去，突然随着嘎咋一声，横木全被拉出窗外了。——哈利跑到窗前看着横木在离地几尺处摇摆着。罗恩喘着气把横木拉进了车里。 　　哈利焦急地听着，但是杜史林一家的卧室里没有一点动静传来。 　　“当所有的横木都安全地和罗恩留在后座后，弗来德把车倒回来尽可能靠近哈利的窗户。 　　“进来。”罗恩道。 　　“但我在霍格瓦彻的所有道具……我的棍棒……我的扫帚……” 　　“在哪儿呢？” 　　“锁在楼梯下的柜橱里，而且我走不出这房间——” 　　“没问题。”前面客座的乔治说道。“哈利，没事的。” 　　弗来德和乔治小心翼翼地通过窗户爬进哈利的房里。当乔治从他的口袋里掏出一个很普通的发夹并开始撬锁时，哈利想那就交给他们办吧。 　　“很多巫师觉得知道这类马格的伎俩简直浪费时间，”弗来德道，“但我们觉得还是值得学学的，尽管慢了点。” 　　嘀答一声，门开了。 　　“好了——我们去找你的箱子——你收拾一下房间里要用的东西，然后递出去给罗恩。”乔治小声说道。 　　“留心最底的楼梯，裂的。”当那双胞胎消失在楼梯平台时，哈利低产应道。 　　哈利在房里忙开了，他把东西集中到一起再传到窗外给罗恩。 　　然后他去帮弗来德和乔治的忙把他的箱子搬到楼上。哈利听到了维能姨丈的咳嗽声。 　　最后，他们喘着气到达了平台，然后带着箱子经过哈利的房间来到窗前。在被罗恩拉着和乔治在卧室这边推着的帮助下，弗来德爬回了车子里。箱子一寸一寸地滑过窗户。 　　维能姨丈又咳嗽了。 　　“再来一点，”在车里拉着的弗来德喘着气说。“用劲……” 　　哈利和乔治用他们的肩膀顶着箱子，箱子滑出了窗户掉到车后座去了。 　　“好了，咱们走吧。”乔治小声说道。 　　但就在哈利爬到窗台时，突然从身后传来一阵响亮的尖叫声，紧接着是维能姨丈雷鸣般的声音。 　　“那该死的猫头鹰！” 　　“我忘了海维！” 　　哈利猛转回房间，此时楼梯平台的灯亮了。他抓住海维的笼子，冲到窗前并递出去给罗恩。正当维能姨丈拍打那扇没锁的门——门突然开了时，哈利赶忙爬到内衣箱的上面。 　　有一瞬间，维能姨丈站在门口一动不动；然后他像头发怒的公牛般怒吼着，并冲向哈利，抓住他的脚踝。 　　罗恩、弗来德和乔治抓住哈利的手臂，竭尽全力地把地拽住。 　　“帕尤妮亚！”维能姨丈吼道。“他要逃走啦！他要逃走啦！” 　　威斯里家兄弟强大的力量使哈利的腿挣脱了维能姨丈的掌握。 　当哈利进到车里并嘭地关上门时，罗恩大喊：“放下你的脚，弗来德！” 　　汽车突然箭似地飞向月亮。 　　哈利简直不敢相信——他自由了。他摇下车窗，回望不断在变小的普里怀特的屋顶，晚风吹拂着他的头发。维能姨丈、帕尤妮亚姨妈和达德里全都抬头看向哈利的窗外，吓得目瞪口呆。 　　“明年夏天再见了！”哈利大声喊道。 　　杜史林家兄弟大声欢呼着；哈利坐回他的位置，会心地笑了。 　　“把海维放出来吧，”他对罗恩说道。“它能跟在我们后头飞。它已经好久没有机会展开翅膀了。” 　　乔治把发夹递给了罗恩，一会儿功夫海维就欢快地飞出了窗外，像个幽灵般在他们左右滑翔。 　“现在——哈利。那个故事是怎样的？”罗恩迫不及待地问道。 　　“发生了什么事？” 　　哈利把多比的事全都告诉了他们，还有它对哈利的警告以及那紫罗兰布了的悲惨下场。当他讲完以后，大家都沉默了好一段时间。 　　“实在是可疑的。”弗来德最后说道。 　　“简直在骗人，”乔治表示同意。“它甚至没有告诉你谁是最可疑的？” 　　“我觉得它是不能说，”哈利说。“我告诉你，每次他透露一些事情，他就会把头猛撞向墙。” 　　他看到弗来德和乔治面面相觑。 　　“怎么，你们觉得它对我说谎吗？”哈利说。 　　“那么，”弗来德说，“这样想吧——小精灵本身具有魔力的，但没有主人的许可，它们通常是不能施法的。我估计多比是派去阻拦你回霍格瓦彻的。某个人的玩笑而已。你觉得学校里有谁和你过不去吗？” 　　“对了。”哈利和罗恩即刻齐声说。 　　“杰高。马尔夫，”哈利解释说。“他讨厌我。” 　　“杰高。马尔夫？”乔治转头说道。“不就是露市斯。马尔夫的儿子吗？” 　　“一定是，这不是个普通的名字，对吧？”哈利说。“为什么呢？” 　　“我听爸爸提过他，”乔治说。“他曾是‘那个人’的支持者。” 　　“我不知道马尔夫家是否有个小精灵……”哈利说。 　　“那么，不管谁拥有它都会是个古老的巫术家庭，而且很富有。”弗来德说。 　　“对，妈妈总说希望咱们家有个小精灵来干些烫衣服的活，”乔治说。“但是我们有的只是在阁楼里的恶心的老盗尸者和花园里的地精。小精灵只呆在古老的大庄园、城堡和诸如此类的地方，你是不可能在咱家碰到的……” 　　哈利默不作声。从杰高。马尔大常有最好的东西这个事实作分析，他的家庭该是巫师界的名流；他能想象出马尔夫在大庄园里大摇大摆的样子。派个家仆来阻拦哈利回霍格瓦彻听起来也的确会像是马尔夫干的那种事。哈利会蠢到把多比当真吗？ 　　“不管怎样，我很高兴我们来带你走，”罗恩说。“你不给我回信，我真的挺担心的。起初我还以为是厄罗尔？” 　　“厄罗尔是谁？”哈利问道。“我们的猫头鹰呀。它很老了，它已经不是头一次弄丢信件了。所以后来我想向伯希借——” 　　“谁？” 　　“这只猫头鹰是妈妈和爸爸在伯希被选为长官时买给他的。”弗来德在前座上说。 　　“但是伯希的行为十分古怪，”乔治皱着眉说。“他发了好多信出去，而且多数时候把自己关在房里……我的意思是，有很多时间可以擦亮那枚漂亮的徽章…… 　　弗来德，你往西开得太远了。“他指着仪表板上的指南针补充道。弗来德转了下方向盘。 　　“那么，你们爸爸知道你们拿了车吗？”哈利猜测地问道。 　　“呃，不，”罗恩说。“他今晚得工作。希望我们能把它放回去而不被妈妈发现我们开过它。” 　　“你们爸爸在魔法部是干什么的？” 　　“他在最烦闷的部门工作，”罗恩说。“防止马格监用物品办公室。” 　　“什么？” 　　“他的职责就是万一巫师是在马格的商店或房子里面死的话，去处理那些由马格造的令人迷惑的东西。比如去年，一个女巫死了，而她的茶具被卖给了一家古董店。一个马格女人把它买了下来，带回了家并用它来款待她的朋友。那简直就是一场噩梦——爸爸连续几星期都在加班。” 　　“那有什么后果呢？” 　　“那茶壶疯了似的到处喷出烧开的条，一个男人因为给糖钳夹住了鼻子在医院死了。爸爸都快忙坏了，办公室就只有他和一个叫怕更斯的老巫土，并且他们得做记忆施咒和各种覆盖它的工作……” 　　“可你爸爸……这车……” 　　弗来德笑了。“对了，爸爸对处理马格的事很着迷，我们的小屋到处是马格的物品。他把它先拆开，对它念咒，再重新把它组装起来。要是他搜查咱们家房子，他就得直接把他自己逮捕了。这让妈妈受不了。” 　　“那是大路，”乔治透过挡风玻璃往下看说。“我们十分钟就能到那……幸好，天开始亮了……” 　　在东方的地干线上可以看到一个发着微弱桃红光芒的发光体。 　　弗来德降低了车子，哈利看见田地和丛林。  　“我们在村外的小路上，”乔治说。“快到家了……” 　　车子飞得越来越低。红红的太阳正发出微光照射着森林。 　　“着陆！”弗来德说道。随着一下轻微的颠簸，他们到了地面。他们停在一个小空地上的破烂车房旁，哈利第一次看到罗恩家的房子。 　　仿佛看起来那曾经是间很大的石造房子，但还是加建了房间，约有几层楼高并弯弯曲曲的，好像是用魔法建成似的。（哈利提醒自己这的确有可能的。）四到五个烟囱竖在红色的房顶上。门口边上有一个竖在地上、左右边不对称的牌子写着“地洞”。前门放着一双威灵顿长靴和一个生了锈的大锅。一些褐色的小鸡正在地上啄食。 　　“这里不怎么样吧。”罗恩说。 　　“很好了。”对比普里怀特，哈利高兴地说。 　　他们下了车。 　　“现在，我们要非常安静地上楼去，‘佛来德说道，’等妈妈喊我们吃早饭。 　　然后罗恩你跑到楼下说‘妈妈，瞧，昨晚谁来了！’，她会很高兴见到哈利的，而且没人知道我们用过车子。” 　　“知道了，”罗恩说。“来，哈利，我睡在……” 　　罗恩突然脸色发绿，眼睛紧紧盯着房子。其余三人也转过身来。 　　威斯里太太正从院子的那头走了过来，地上的小鸡四散飞跑，一下子这个丰满的、和蔼的妇人变得好像一头剑齿虎似的。 　　“呀。”弗来德喊道。 　　“我的天哪。”乔治惊呼。   　威斯里太太停在他们面前，她背着手，目光从一张歉疚的脸上移到另一张上。 　　她穿着一件口袋里放着魔杖的花围裙。 　　“好呀。”她说。 　　“早上好，妈妈。”乔治装出洋洋得意的样子说道。 　　“你们知道我昨晚有多担心吗？”威斯里太太可怕地小声说道。 　　“对不起，妈妈，可是瞧，我们——” 　　威斯里太太的三个儿子都比她高，但他们却很怕惹她生气。 　　“床是空的！没有字条！车子不见了……有没有出车祸……担心死了……你们知道吗？……我活这么久，从来没试过这样……你们等爸爸回来，比尔、查理或伯希他们就没惹过这样的麻烦……” 　　“伯希……”弗来德小声嘀咕着。 　　“你该学学伯希！”威斯里太太用手指着弗来德的胸口喊道。“你可能会死的，你可能会给马格人看到的，你可能会连累你父亲丢了工作——” 　　看来这样还得持续几个小时。威斯里太太转向哈利时，喉咙都喊嘶哑了，哈利吓得后退了几步。 　　“很高兴见到你，亲爱的哈利，”她说，“进来吃早餐吧。” 　　她转身，带着哈利走回屋子里。哈利紧张地看了一眼正点头鼓励他的罗恩后，就跟着她走了。 　　厨房很小而且相当狭窄。环顾四周，中间放着擦干净的木制桌子和椅子。哈利小心地坐在座位的边缘上。他从没到过巫师的房子里。 　　墙上背对着他的大钟只有一根指针，根本没有数字。只在边缘上写满诸如“该泡茶了”，“该喂鸡了”和“迟到了”的字样。 　　壁架上放着三叠厚厚的书，书名分别为《使你的奶酪变得美味》、《烹任魁力》和《一分钟晚宴》——太神奇了！如果哈利没听错的话，那台挨着水池的老式收音机刚宣布接下来是“巫术时间，由广受欢迎的男巫歌手塞。旺伯克主持”。 　　威斯里太太在厨房里弄得哗啦作响，随便地在弄点早餐；她往煎锅倒香肠时，带点厌恶的神色，扫了她的儿子们一眼。她不时唠叨着“真不知道你们在想什么”和“真不敢相信”、“我并没怪你，亲爱的，” 　　她边往哈利的碟子里倒了八九根香肠，边向他保证。“亚瑟和我也很担心你。 　　昨晚我们还在讨论要是你在周五还不给罗恩回信的话，我们就要去接你的。但真的，（她又添了三只煎蛋给他。）驾驶一辆非法的汽车在乡村的半空中——谁都可能看到你们的———” 　　她用魔杖随便向水池一指，洗涤就自动进行，伴着轻轻的叮当声。 　　“妈妈，那时天气多云。”弗来德说。 　　“吃东西的时候闭嘴！”威斯里太太打断他的话。 　　“他们在让他挨饿，妈妈！”乔治说。 　　“你也是！”威斯里太太说，但当她切面包和涂黄油给哈利的时候，表情缓和多了。 　　就在那时，一个矮个、红发、穿着睡衣的人出现在厨房里，带来了转机。她小声尖叫然后又跑了出去。 　　“金妮，”罗恩低声告诉哈利。“我的妹妹。她整个暑假都有提起你。” 　　“是啊，她一直想要你的签名，哈利。”弗来德低声说，但当他看到母亲正看着他时，他就低头吃饭，一声不吭。直至四只碟子在极短的时间内被洗干净，大家没有再多说一句话。 　　“啊呀，我累了，”弗来德打着呵欠说道，放下了他的刀和叉。“我想我要去睡觉了——” 　　“不许去，”威斯里太太突然说道。“昨晚不睡觉是你自找的。你替我把花园的地精清理一下，他们又完全不听话了。” 　　“哦，妈妈——” 　　“还有你们两个，”她盯着罗恩和乔治说。“而你上去睡觉吧，亲爱的，”她对哈利加了一句。“你没有叫他们开那可怜的车子。” 　　但哈利觉得很清醒，急忙说，“我去帮罗恩吧。我还没见过清理地精呢——” 　　“你真好，孩子，但那是很枯燥的，”威斯里太太说道。“现在，让我们看看罗克哈特是怎么说的。” 　　她从壁架上抽出一本厚厚的书。 　　“妈妈，我们知道该怎么做。”‘乔治嘟哝着。 　　哈利看了看威斯里太太那本书的封面。书上印着奇特的金字，写着《吉德洛。罗克哈特的家常治害导向》。在书的前面有一张大照片，那个人长得很好看，有着卷曲的金发和明亮的蓝眼睛。 　　通常在巫术世界里面，这样的照片是会动的；这个哈利认为就是吉德洛。罗克哈特的巫师正厚着脸皮向他们在场的人眨眼。威斯里太太则向他微笑示意。 　　“哦，他真不可思议，”她说。“他了解他家有害的东西，是的，这真是本精彩的书……” 　　“妈妈很崇拜他。”弗来德极低的声音说道。 　　“别让人笑话，弗来德，”威斯里太太涨红了脸说道。“要是你觉得懂得比罗克哈特多的话，你可以去干活了；但假如我去检查的时候还有地精在花园的话，你就有好瞧的。” 　　打着哈欠。满腹牢骚的威斯里兄弟懒散地出去了，哈利紧跟着他们。花园很大，在哈利的眼里，花园就该是这样的。达德里家不会有像这样的花园——杂草丛生，要修剪的草坪——墙的四周种着粗糙的树木，每个花床上都长着哈利从没见过的植物，还有很多青蛙的绿色池糖。 　　“你知道，马格也有花园地精的。”当他们经过草地时，哈利告诉罗恩。 　　“是的，我见过那些被认为地精的东西，”罗恩说着，在芍药丛中摘了两朵戴在了头上。“就像带着钓鱼竿的胖而矮小的基督神甫——” 　　一阵猛烈的混战声传了过来，芍药丛不断抖动，罗恩站直了身。 　　“这就是地精。”他冷冷说道。 　　“放开我！放开我！”那地精抗议地说。 　　它一点都不像基督神甫。它很矮小，皮革似的样子，大大的、长节的秃头十足像一个马铃薯。罗恩伸直手把它举了起来，而它用它那角状的小脚踢向他；他捉住它的脚踝，把它倒了过来。 　　“这就是你要干的。”他说。他把那地精高举过头，并开始像甩绳套那样将它转起来；哈利看得目瞪口呆，罗恩补充道，“这样不会伤着它们——只要搞得它们晕头转向，这样它们就找不着回去地精洞的路了。” 　　他放开了那地精的脚踝：它在空中飞起二十尺，然后越过树篱重重地摔到了地上。 　　“真差劲，”弗来德说。“我敢打赌我可以扔过那树桩。” 　　哈利很快不再对那些地精们感到抱歉了。他决定也要把他抓的第一个地精扔过树篱去，但那地精看起来虚弱得很，锋利的牙齿咬着哈利的手指，很难把它甩掉，直至——“喔，哈利——那起码有五十尺……” 　　很快空中满是乱舞的地精。 　　“看到了吧，它们很笨的，”乔治说着，马上又抓住了五六个地精。 　　“这时候它们才知道这是在清理它们。你想它们早该在被扔出去之前就意识到这一点吧。” 　　很快，在地上的那群地精们耸着肩，开始有秩序地蜿蜒而行，离开了。 　　“它们会回来的，”看着地精们消失在田那边的树丛中，罗恩说道，“它们爱这里……爸爸对它们太好了，他觉得它们很有趣……” 　　就在那时，前门砰的一下关上了。 　　“他回来了！”乔治说，“爸爸回来了！” 　　他们赶快穿过花园回到了屋子。 　　威斯里先生坐在厨房的椅子上，摘了眼镜，疲倦地合上了双眼。 　　他瘦瘦的，头有点秃，但头发和他的孩子们一样那么红。他穿了一件满是灰尘、旧的绿色长袍。 　　“可怕的夜晚，”他喃喃自语，当他们都围坐在他身边时，他起身拿茶壶。 　　“九次袭击。九次！当我回程时老孟顿格斯。弗特切想对我施法……” 　　威斯里先生深深喝了一口茶，并叹着气。 　　“发现什么吗？”弗来德急切地说。 　　“我只找到那些收缩的门匙和一把生锈的壶，”威斯里先生打着可欠，“尽管有些讨厌的东西并非是我的部门的，马锐克因为某些不成对的细带问题被带走问话了，但这是魔术委员会的事，上帝保佑——” 　　“为什么没有人能阻止钥匙变小呢？”乔治说。 　　“仅是作马格的诱饵，”威斯里先生叹气说，“卖给他们开不了任何东西的不断缩小的钥匙，那么在他们要用的时候，他们将再找不到它……当然这很难说是谁的错，因为没有马格会承认他们的钥匙在变小——而他们只是坚持说他们丢了。上帝保佑他们，他们总是无视魔法，即使他们面对着魔法……但是我们命运中的事物就是这样让人迷惑，令你不敢相信——” 　　“例如就像那车子？”威斯里太太手里拿着一把像剑一样的长拨火棍出来了。 　　威斯里先生眼睛猛地睁开，歉疚地看着他太太。 　　“车——车子，摩莉？” 　　“是的，亚瑟，车子，”威斯里太太眼睛闪着光说道，“想象一下，一个巫师买了辆生锈的破车，并告诉他太太，他只是想把它拆开，看看它的工作原理。而事实上他却施法使车子能飞起来。” 　　威斯里先生眨眨眼睛。 　　“哎呀，亲爱的。我想你会懂得即使法律允许这么干，他也有被停职的可能。 　　嗯，即使他能干得更好。晤，告诉他太太真相……你知道，法律是有漏洞的……只要他不把车开走，车子能飞的事就会——” 　　“亚瑟城斯里，我敢肯定你写法律的时候有漏洞！”威斯里太太大喊，“用你那大汽锅把你小屋里所有的马格垃圾统统带走！告诉你，今天早上哈利就是坐着你那会飞的车子来的！” 　　“哈利？”威斯里先生茫然问道。“谁是哈利？” 　　他四处张望，看到哈利并跳了起来。 　　“天啊，他就是哈利。波特？很高兴认识你，罗恩已经告诉我们很多关于——” 　　“昨晚你的儿子们开着那车去哈利的家里并把他接回来的！”威斯里太太大喊。 　　“对那事你有什么要说的吗，呃？” 　　“真是你吗？”威斯里先生急迫地说。“过得好吗？我——我是说，”看到威斯里太太眼里的神色不对劲，他有点给巴地说，“那——那是不对的，孩子——真的不对……” 　　“我们别管它，”正当威斯坦太太气得像鼓气的牛蛙时，罗恩对哈利嘀咕道。 　　“来，我带你到我的房里。” 　　他们溜出厨房，沿着一条狭窄的过道来到崎岖的楼梯，楼梯婉蜒而上贯通整所房子。三楼，房门微开。在房门突然关上之前，哈利看到一双明亮的褐色眼睛正盯着他。 　　“金妮，”罗恩说。“你不知道，她这么害羞太不可思议了，她从不规矩地关门——” 　　他们又爬了两段楼梯直至来到一个油漆剥落、有小金属装饰的门前，上面写着“罗恩的房间”。 　　哈利走进去，头几乎碰到了倾斜的屋顶，眨着好奇的眼睛。他就像走进了一个炕子里面：房间里的每一样东西几乎都是鲜艳的橘红色：床铺、墙壁、甚至天花板。 　　然后哈利才发现原来罗恩是在破旧墙纸的几乎每一寸地方上都贴着七个相同的巫师和女巫的海报，他们都穿着鲜艳橘红色的长袍、拿着扫帚并且精力充沛地飞着。 　　“你的奎德队吗？”哈利道。 　 “奎德队。”罗恩指着用两块大的黑色金属格和一个飞行的炮弹做纹章装饰的霍格瓦彻红色床铺说道，“联赛第九。” 　　罗恩的魔法书杂乱地堆在角落里，挨着一堆全是描写“马丁。米格，疯狂的马格”的漫画书。罗恩的魔杖则躺在窗台上那装满蝌蚪的鱼缸上，旁边是他那正在太阳底下打瞌睡、肥硕的灰鼠斯卡伯斯。 　　哈利跨过地上一堆会自动洗牌的纸牌，从小窗往外张望。在远处田野，他看到一群地精正鬼鬼祟祟、一个接一个地通过威斯里家的树篱回来。然后他转身看着正好奇地看着他的罗恩，罗恩似乎在等他说话。 　　“地方小了点，”罗恩飞快地说。“不像你和马格住时的那房间。 　　我正好住在阁楼里的盗尸者的下面，他常大力敲打管子和呻吟……“但哈利眨着大眼睛说，”这是我住过的最好的房子。” 　　罗恩不好意思地耳朵都变红了。 
Chapter 4 At Flourish And Blotts
Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from life on Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys'house burst with the strange and unexpected. Harry got a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and it shouted, “Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!” The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George's bedroom were considered perfectly normal. What Harry found most unusual about life at Ron's, however, wasn't the talking mirror or the clanking ghoul: It was the fact that everybody there seemed to like him.Mrs. Weasley fussed over the state of his socks and tried to force him to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr. Weasley liked Harry to sit next to him at the dinner table so that he could bombard him with questions about life with Muggles, asking him to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked.“Fascinating .” he would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone. ” Ingenious , really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic.”Harry heard from Hogwarts one sunny morning about a week after he had arrived at the Burrow. He and Ron went down to breakfast to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny already sitting at the kitchen table. The moment she saw Harry, Ginny accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. Ginny seemed very prone to knocking things over whenever Harry entered a room. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun. Pretending he hadn't noticed this, Harry sat down and took the toast Mrs. Weasley offered him.“Letters from school,” said Mr. Weasley, passing Harry and Ron identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. “Dumbledore already knows you're here, Harry - doesn't miss a trick, that man. You two've got them, too,” he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pajamas.For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Harry's told him to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of the new books he'd need for the coming year.SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda GoshawkBreak with a Banshee by Gilderoy LockhartGadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy LockhartHolidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart43 Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy LockhartVoyages with Vampires by Gilderoy LockhartWanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy LockhartYear with the Yeti by Gilderoy LockhartFred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Harry's.“You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!” he said. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch.”At this point, Fred caught his mother's eye and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.“That lot won't come cheap,” said George, with a quick look at his parents. “Lockhart's books are really expensive…”“Well, we'll manage,” said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. “I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand.”“Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?” Harry asked Ginny.She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately no one saw this except Harry, because just then Ron's elder brother Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.“Morning, all,” said Percy briskly. “Lovely day.”He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray feather duster - at least, that was what Harry thought it was, until he saw that it was breathing.“Errol!” said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. ” Finally - he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys.”He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron lay him on the draining board instead, muttering, “Pathetic.” Then he ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:“`Dear Ron, and Harry if you're there,“`I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off.“I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course’- How can she be?” said Ron in horror. “We're on vacation! - and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?“Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.'”“Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too,” said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table. “What're you all up to today?”Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the village below, meaning that they could practice Quidditch there, as long as they didn't fly too high.They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown away over the village; instead they threw apples for one another to catch. They took turns riding Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand, which was easily the best broom; Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies.Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. Harry had only seen Percy at mealtimes so far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.“Wish I knew what he was up to,” said Fred, frowning. “He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all.”“Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” George explained, seeing Harry's puzzled look. “Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame.”Bill was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie, had already left Hogwarts. Harry had never met either of them, but knew that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill in Egypt working for the wizard's bank, Gringotts.“Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year,” said George after a while. “Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything…”Harry said nothing. He felt a bit awkward. Stored in an underground vault at Gringotts in London was a small fortune that his parents had left him. Of course, it was only in the wizarding world that he had money; you couldn't use Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts in Muggle shops. He had never mentioned his Gringotts bank account to the Dursleys; he didn't think their horror of anything connected with magic would stretch to a large pile of gold.Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.“We're running low, Arthur,” she sighed. “We'll have to buy some more today… Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!”And she offered him the flowerpot.Harry stared at them all watching him.“W-what am I supposed to do?” he stammered.“He's never traveled by Floo powder,” said Ron suddenly. “Sorry, Harry, I forgot.”“Never?” said Mr. Weasley. “But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?”“I went on the Underground—”“Really?” said Mr. Weasley eagerly. “Were there escapators ? How exactly—”“Not now , Arthur,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before—”“He'll be all right, Mum,” said Fred. “Harry, watch us first.”He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, “Diagon Alley!” and vanished.“You must speak clearly, dear,” Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. “And be sure to get out at the right grate…”“The right what?” said Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.“Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly—”“He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss,” said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder too.“But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?”“They wouldn't mind,” Harry reassured her. “Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that—”“Well… all right… you go after Arthur,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going.”“And keep your elbows tucked in,” Ron advised.“And your eyes shut,” said Mrs. Weasley. “The soot—”“Don't fidget,” said Ron. “Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace—”“But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George.”Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.“D-Dia-gon Alley,” he coughed.It felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening - he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick -something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning - now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face - squinting through his glasses he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond - his bacon sandwiches were churning inside him - he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then…He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses snap.Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was quite alone, but where he was, he had no idea. All he ould tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop - but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.The sooner he got out of here, the better. Nose still stinging where it had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before he'd got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass - and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy.Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Malfoy stepped into the shop.The man who followed could only be Draco's father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes. Mr. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, “Touch nothing, Draco.”Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, “I thought you were going to buy me a present.”“I said I would buy you a racing broom,” said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter.“What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?” said Malfoy, looking sulky and bad-tempered. “Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous… famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead…”Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.“…everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick—”“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son. “And I would remind you that it is not - prudent - to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr. Borgin.”A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.“Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again,” said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. “Delighted - and young Master Malfoy, too - charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced—”“I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling,” said Mr. Malfoy.“Selling?” The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.“You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids,” said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. “I have a few - ah - items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call…”Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list.“The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?”Mr. Malfoy's lip curled.“I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act - no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it—”Harry felt a hot surge of anger.“- and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear—”“I understand, sir, of course,” said Mr. Borgin. “Let me see…”“Can I have that?” interrupted Draco, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion.“Ah, the Hand of Glory!” said Mr. Borgin, abandoning Mr. Malfoy's list and scurrying over to Draco. “Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend of thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir.”“I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin,” said Mr. Malfoy coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, “No offense, sir, no offense meant—”“Though if his grades don't pick up,” said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, “that may indeed be all he is fit for—”“It's not my fault,” retorted Draco. “The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger—”“I would have thought you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam,” snapped Mr. Malfoy.“Ha!” said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry.“It's the same all over,” said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. “Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere—”“Not with me,” said Mr. Malfoy, his long nostrils flaring.“No, sir, nor with me, sir,” said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow.“In that case, perhaps we can return to my list,” said Mr. Malfoy shortly. “I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today—”They started to haggle. Harry watched nervously as Draco drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining the objects for sale. Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangman's rope and to read, smirking, the card propped on a magnificent necklace of opals, Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date.Draco turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward - he stretched out his hand for the handle “Done,” said Mr. Malfoy at the counter. “Come, Draco—”Harry wiped his forehead on his sleeve as Draco turned away.“Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods.”The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin dropped his oily manner.“Good day yourself, Mister Malfoy, and if the stories are true, you haven't sold me half of what's hidden in your manor…”Muttering darkly, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room. Harry waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as he could, slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door.Clutching his broken glasses to his face, Harry stared around. He had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. The one he'd just left, Borgin and Burkes, looked like the largest, but opposite was a nasty window display of shrunken heads and, two doors down, a large cage was alive with gigantic black spiders. Two shabby-looking wizards were watching him from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other. Feeling jumpy, Harry set off, trying to hold his glasses on straight and hoping against hope he'd be able to find a way out of here.An old wooden street sign hanging over a shop selling poisonous candles told him he was in Knockturn Alley. This didn't help, as Harry had never heard of such a place. He supposed he hadn't spoken clearly enough through his mouthful of ashes back in the Weasleys'fire. Trying to stay calm, he wondered what to do.“Not lost are you, my dear?” said a voice in his ear, making him jump.An aged witch stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at him, showing mossy teeth. Harry backed away.“I'm fine, thanks,” he said. “I'm just—”“HARRY! What d'yeh think yer doin'down there?”Harry's heart leapt. So did the witch; a load of fingernails cascaded down over her feet and she cursed as the massive form of Hagrid, the Hogwarts'gamekeeper, came striding toward them, beetle-black eyes flashing over his great bristling beard.“Hagrid!” Harry croaked in relief. “I was lost - Floo powder—”Hagrid seized Harry by the scruff of the neck and pulled him away from the witch, knocking the tray right out of her hands. Her shrieks followed them all the way along the twisting alleyway out into bright sunlight. Harry saw a familiar, snow-white marble building in the distance - Gringotts Bank. Hagrid had steered him right into Diagon Alley.“Yer a mess!” said Hagrid gruffly, brushing soot off Harry so forcefully he nearly knocked him into a barrel of dragon dung outside an apothecary. “Skulkin'around Knockturn Alley, I dunno dodgy place, Harry - don'want no one ter see yeh down there—”“I realized that ,” said Harry, ducking as Hagrid made to brush him off again. “I told you, I was lost - what were you doing down there, anyway?”“I was lookin'fer a Flesh-Eatin'Slug Repellent,” growled Hagrid. “They're ruinin'the school cabbages. Yer not on yer own?”“I'm staying with the Weasleys but we got separated,” Harry explained. “I've got to go and find them…”They set off together down the street.“How come yeh never wrote back ter me?” said Hagrid as Harry jogged alongside him (he had to take three steps to every stride of Hagrid's enormous boots). Harry explained all about Dobby and the Dursleys.“Lousy Muggles,” growled Hagrid. “If I'd've known—”“Harry! Harry! Over here!”Harry looked up and saw Hermione Granger standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. She ran down to meet them, her bushy brown hair flying behind her.“What happened to your glasses? Hello, Hagrid - Oh, it's wonderful to see you two again - Are you coming into Gringotts, Harry?”“As soon as I've found the Weasleys,” said Harry.“Yeh won't have long ter wait,” Hagrid said with a grin.Harry and Hermione looked around: Sprinting up the crowded street were Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and Mr. Weasley.“Harry,” Mr. Weasley panted. “We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far…” He mopped his glistening bald patch. “Molly's frantic - she's coming now—”“Where did you come out?” Ron asked.“Knockturn Alley,” said Hagrid grimly.“Excellent!” said Fred and George together.“We've never been allowed in,” said Ron enviously.“I should ruddy well think not,” growled Hagrid. Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.“Oh, Harry - oh, my dear - you could have been anywhere—”Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid hadn't managed to beat away. Mr. Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of his wand, and returned them, good as new.“Well, gotta be off,” said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). “See yer at Hogwarts!” And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.“Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione as they climbed the Gringotts steps. “Malfoy and his father.”“Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?” said Mr. Weasley sharply behind them.“No, he was selling—”“So he's worried,” said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. “Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something …”“You be careful, Arthur,” said Mrs. Weasley sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. “That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew—”“So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?” said Mr. Weasley indignantly, but he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran all along the great marble hall, waiting for Hermione to introduce them.“But you're Muggles!” said Mr. Weasley delightedly. “We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!” He pointed excitedly at the ten-pound notes in Mr. Granger's hand.“Meet you back here,” Ron said to Hermione as the Weasleys and Harry were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin.The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train tracks through the bank's underground tunnels. Harry enjoyed the breakneck journey down to the Weasleys'vault, but felt dreadful, far worse than he had in Knockturn Alley, when it was opened. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. Harry felt even worse when they reached his vault. He tried to block the contents from view as he hastily shoved handfuls of coins into a leather bag.Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand robe shop. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.“We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks,” said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. “And not one step down Knockturn Alley!” she shouted at the twins'retreating backs.Harry, Ron, and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. The bag of gold, silver, and bronze jangling cheerfully in Harry's pocket was clamoring to be spent, so he bought three large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, which they slurped happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Ron gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door. In Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, they met Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who were stocking up on Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks, and in a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion stains they found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called Prefects Who Gained Power .“A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers,” Ron read aloud off the back cover. “That sounds fascinating …”“Go away,” Percy snapped.“Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out… He wants to be Minister of Magic…” Ron told Harry and Hermione in an undertone as they left Percy to it.An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:GILDEROY LOCKHARTwill be signing copies of his autobiographyMAGICAL MEtoday 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.“We can actually meet him!” Hermione squealed. “I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!”The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, “Calmly, please, ladies… Don't push, there… mind the books, now…”Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.“Oh, there you are, good,” said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. “We'll be able to see him in a minute…”Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.“Out of the way, there,” he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. “This is for the Daily Prophet—”“Big deal,” said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron - and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, “It can't be Harry Potter?”The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry's arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry's face burned as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.“Nice big smile, Harry,” said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. “Together, you and I are worth the front page.”When he finally let go of Harry's hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said loudly, waving for quiet. “What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography - which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge -” The crowd applauded again. “He had no idea ,” Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, “that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me . He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, he managed to make his way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.“You have these,” Harry mumbled to her, tipping the books into the cauldron. “I'll buy my own—”“Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?” said a voice Harry had no trouble recognizing. He straightened up and found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, who was wearing his usual sneer.“Famous Harry Potter,” said Malfoy. “Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”“Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!” said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.“Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!” drawled Malfoy. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart's books.“Oh, it's you,” said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. “Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, eh?”“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” retorted Malfoy. “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those.”Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket.“Ron!” said Mr. Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. “What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside.”“Well, well, well - Arthur Weasley.”It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.“Lucius,” said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear,” said Mr. Malfoy. “All those raids… I hope they're paying you overtime?”He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration .“Obviously not,” Mr. Malfoy said. “Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?”Mr. Weasley flushed darker than either Ron or Ginny.“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” he said.“Clearly,” said Mr. Malfoy, his pale eyes straying to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were watching apprehensively. “The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower.”There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, “Get him, Dad!” from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!"; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over; “Gentlemen, please - please!” cried the assistant, and then, louder than all—“Break it up, there, gents, break it up—”Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools . He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.“Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you -” Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.“Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur,” said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. “Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that - no Malfoy's worth listenin'ter - bad blood, that's what it is - come on now - let's get outta here.”The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs. Weasley beside herself with fury.“A fine example to set for your children… brawling in public… what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought—”“He was pleased,” said Fred. “Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report - said it was all publicity—”But it was a subdued group that headed back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry, the Weasleys, and all their shopping would be traveling back to the Burrow using Floo powder. They said good-bye to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle street on the other side; Mr. Weasley started to ask them how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face.Harry took off his glasses and put them safely in his pocket before helping himself to Floo powder. It definitely wasn't his favorite way to travel.
在巴洛的生活和在普里怀特的相比有着天壤之别。在杜史林家每样东西都得放得整整齐齐，有条不紊；而在威斯里家时时刻刻都可能发生些奇奇怪怪，令人意想不到的事。哈利第一次在厨房壁炉架前照镜子时就被着着实实地吓了一大跳。那面镜子竞冲着他叫：“小脏东西，把衬衣下摆塞到裤子里去！”当房子有片刻安静的时候，小阁楼上的盗尸者就会扯开嗓子大吼大叫，并向楼下扔旧水管子。就连弗来德和乔治房间里不时的小爆炸也都算是正常不过的事情。不过，在罗恩家中，最让哈利。波特觉得不寻常的倒不是那面会说话的镜子或是那个老爱弄出些怪响的盗尸者，而是在这儿每个人都很喜欢他。 　　威斯里太太总是为他的谦虚而大惊小怪，每顿饭都要试图让他添四次菜。在饭桌前，威斯里先生就爱拉着哈利坐到他旁边，这样他就可以像机关枪似的发问一大堆的问题，诸如让他解释电插头和邮政服务是怎样运作之类的马格人（没有魔法也不相信巫术的普通人）的问题。 　　当哈利说起使用电话时，他会说，“真不可思议啊！简直是天才的发明，马格居然在没有魔法帮助下能找到这么多彼此沟通联络的办法来。” 　　在巴洛住了一个星期后，哈利在一个天气晴朗的早上收到了霍格瓦彻学校的信。 　他和罗恩下楼吃早餐时，威斯里夫妇和金妮已经坐在厨房的小桌子旁了。金妮一看到哈利，不知道怎么地一不小心把自己的粥碗碰掉到地板上，发出“卡拉”一声巨响。每次哈利走进房子时，金妮总会不自觉地撞翻些什么。现在，她急忙俯下身子捡起碗，脸儿却红得像初升的太阳一般。哈利装着什么都没看到，坐了下来，接过威斯里太太递来的烤面包。 　　“学校来信了，”威斯里先生说着就递给哈利和罗恩一人一封几乎完全相同的信，都是用微黄的羊皮信封和绿墨水写的地址。“丹伯多已经知道你在这了，哈利——那人消息很灵通啊。”看到弗来德和乔治穿着睡衣裤，睡眼惺松地走进来，他继续说道：“你们两个也有信。” 　　他们都在看信，屋子里出现了难得的几分钟的安静。哈利的信叫他像往常一样在九月一号国王大道车站乘坐霍格瓦彻特快专列。 　　信中还附上了新学期的用书清单。 　　二年级学生必备书：《魔咒标准教程（二级）》米兰达。哥斯沃克著《对付女妖精方法谈》吉德洛。罗克哈特著《与食尸者漫步同游》吉德洛。罗克哈特著《与女巫共度的假期》吉德洛。罗克哈特著《与巨人做伴的旅行》吉德洛。罗克哈特著《与吸血鬼为伴的航行》吉德洛。罗克哈特著《与人狼漫游记》吉德洛。罗克哈特著《与雪人一起的日子》吉德洛。罗克哈特著弗来德看完信，扭头往哈利的信瞥了一眼。 　　“你也要买罗克哈特的一整套书啊！”他说道。“这个新的教黑巫术防卫课程的老师肯定是他的狂慕者——我敢打赌肯定是个女巫士。” 　　正在这时，弗来德发觉妈妈正盯着他，于是马上低下头来涂果酱。 　　“那套书可不便宜啊，”乔治说着很快地望了一下父母，接着说：“实际上，他的书真的很贵哦……” 　　“嗯，我们会应付得来的，”虽然威斯里太太是这样说，但是她看起来报忧虑。 　　“我想我们还能给金妮买些二手用具的。” 　　“哦，你今年开始上霍格瓦彻学校啊？”哈利问金妮。 　　她点点头，脸儿却一直红到了那火红色的头发发端了，手肘碰到了装牛油的碟子里。幸好这时罗恩的哥哥伯希走了进来，除了哈利外，没有其他人留意到金妮。 　　伯希显然是刚刚整理打扮过，霍格瓦彻完美奖章别在了衣服上。 　　“各位早上好！”伯希轻快的说。“今天真是个好天气！” 　　他刚在剩下的唯—一张椅子上坐下，几乎同一时间又马上蹦了起来，在身下抽出一只灰色不断掉毛的猫头鹰——至少哈利看到它在喘气以前是这么想的。 　　接着他撕开了荷米恩的信，大声地读了出来。 　　“亲爱的罗恩，还有哈利（如果你也在这的话）：我希望你们的计划进展得顺利，哈利平安无事。罗恩，你可不要为了把哈利救出来而去干违法的事，因为那样也会给哈利添更大的麻烦。最近我一直很担心哈利，不知道他怎么样了。如果你知道他的情况，马上写信告诉我吧。还有，我想你最好去换一只送信的猫头鹰，我老觉得如果再让它送一次信，它就很可能会累死掉了。 　　现在我正在复习学校的功课，当然了——“她怎么能够这么用功？我们现在可是在放假啊！”罗恩发出一声恐怖的怪叫，我们下个星期三到伦敦买新书。咱们在戴阿宫道见面怎么样？ 　　尽快告知我你们的情况了。——荷采恩“好了，这样时间就好安排了。我们也在那天去把你们要的东西全买回来。”威斯里太太一边说一边开始抹桌子了。“你们今天准备干什么呀？” 　　哈利、罗恩、乔治和弗来德老早就打算今天爬山上威斯里家的小围场了。那儿四处都是树，把围场通得严严实实。从山下的小村在望上来，什么都看不到。这就是说，只要他们不飞太高的话，他们就可以在这练习可尔夫球了。他们还不能用真的可尔夫球，因为如果一不小心球没有被接住，飞过村子被人发现的话，就很难向别人解释清楚了。但是，他们可以用苹果当球，相互投掷练习一下。他们轮流坐了哈利的灵光2000，一眼就能够看出，那可是最好的扫帚。罗恩的流星扫帚飞起来甚至比身边翩翩起舞的蝴蝶还要慢。 　　五分钟后他们走在了上山的小路上，人人肩上都扛着扫帚。他们问过伯希想不想一起去，但是伯希说他太忙了。至今为止，哈利只是在吃饭时间看到伯希；其余时间他都把自己反锁在房间里。 　　“但愿我知道他究竟在忙些什么，”弗来德皱着眉头说。“他这几天都古古怪怪的。你来以前他的考试成绩就已经出来了。O.W.L十二级，但他却一点都乐不起来。” 　　“就是说标准巫术级别。”乔治看到哈利一脸茫然的神情，解释说。“比尔也是十二级。如果我们再不小心点的话，我们家就会再出一个领导人物了。我可不觉得我脸上有什么光彩。” 　　“比尔是他们的大哥，他和二哥查理已经在霍格瓦彻毕业了。”哈利从来没见过他们两个，但是听说查理在罗马尼亚研究龙，而比尔在埃及的巫师银行——格林高斯工作。 　　“真不知道今年老爸老妈怎么凑钱给我们买书交学费……”过了一会，乔治又说，“五套罗克哈特的书啊！金妮还要魔袍，魔杖和其他的东西……” 　　哈利不做声，他感到有点难堪。在伦敦格林高斯的保险库里放着他父母留给他的一小笔财产。当然了，只有在巫法的世界里这些钱才能用。你在马格的商店里可不能用帆船币，镰刀币和克拉币。 　　他从来没跟杜史林一家说起过他在格林高斯的银行存款；他从来不认为他们家对任何与魔法拉上边的东西的恐惧会牵涉到一大堆的黄金。 　　接下来的那个星期三的一大早威斯里太太从厨房的壁炉架上取下一只花盆，往花盆里瞧了瞧。 　　“差不多用完了，亚瑟，”她叹了口气。“我们今天得买多一点……啊，让我们的客人先走一步。亲爱的哈利，你先去吧。” 　　接着她把花盆递给了他。 　　哈利望着他们不知道怎么办，他们也在看着他。 　　“我——我应该怎么做？”他结结巴巴的说道。 　　“他从来没用弗罗粉旅行过，”罗恩忽然恍然大悟地说。“对不起，哈利，我忘了。” 　　“从来设试过？”威斯里太太说，“那你去年怎样去达尔根街买书呢？” 　　“我是坐地铁去的——” 　　“哦，真的吗？”威斯里先生表现出极大的兴趣。“具体怎么——” 　　“现在可不是问问题的时候啊，亚瑟，”威斯里太太说。“用弗罗粉要快得多，亲爱的。但是天啊，如果你还从来没用过的话——” 　　“他可以的，妈妈，”弗来德说。“哈利，先看着我们怎么做。” 　　他从花盆里拿出一小撮闪闪发亮的粉末，走到火炉前把粉末撒到火焰上。 　　随着一声巨响，火苗变成了翡翠玉色并且越烧越高，渐渐地升得比弗来德还高。 　　这时，弗来德踏进火堆，口里叫道：“戴阿宫道！”接着就消失了。 　　“你可得说得清楚一点，亲爱的。”威斯里告诉哈利。这时乔治把手探进花盆中。“还有小心得走对壁炉……” 　　“走对什么？”哈利紧张地问。但是火苗“劈啪”一响把乔治卷了进去。 　　“哦，有很多巫术壁炉架可以让我们选择作为终点站，不过，不用担心，只要你把要去的地点说清楚就没事了。” 　　“摩莉，他能行的，不要小题大做了。”威斯里先生一边说，一边拿起粉末。 　　“但是，亲爱的，如果他走错了，我们可怎么向他的姨丈姨妈交代啊？” 　　“他们可不会在乎的。”哈利安慰她说。“如果我被困在某个烟囱出不来，达德里只会觉得这是一个很有创意的玩笑。不用担心这个。” 　　“那……好吧……你跟着亚瑟走吧，”威斯里说道。“现在，当你走进火堆时，说你要去的地方——” 　　“最好把手肘收紧些。”罗恩建议道。 　  “把眼睛闭上，”威斯里太太说。“那火灰——” 　　“不要乱动，”罗恩说道。“否则你可能掉到另外一个壁炉——” 　　“千万不要恐慌，不要太早就出来，在炉里呆着，看到弗来德和乔治才出来。” 　　哈利努力地把这些建议记在心上，拿起小撮弗罗粉，然后走到火苗边上。他深深地吸了一口气，把粉末撒进了火里，踏了进去。火苗暖洋洋的像一阵暖和的微风；他情不自禁地张开了嘴巴，可是马上口中溢满了热乎乎的煤灰。 　　“戴——戴——戴阿宫道，”他咳嗽着说。 　　接着他好像被吸入了一则“巨大的漩涡里。身子不断的飞快地旋转，旋转…… 　　耳边风吹过的声音震耳欲聋……他想睁开眼睛，但是眼前飞速转动的绿色火苗让他觉得很不舒服……什么东西撞到了他的手肘上，他紧紧的把手肘收到胸前，但是他还是不断不断的在转动，转动……现在他又觉得无数只冰冷的手在拍打着他的脸……眯着服从眼角看出去，他看到一串模糊的壁炉和屋子的影像……他早餐吃的熏肉三明治一直在胃里搅动……他闭上眼睛暗暗地希望这些会停F来，然后——他从空中掉了下来，摔在了冰冷的石壁上，眼镜也给摔破了。 　　地小心地爬了起来，觉得脑袋涨得厉害，身上也擦伤了好几处地方，浑身还沾满了煤灰。他把那副破眼睛往眼睛处推了一推。四周只有他一个人，但是他也不知道自己身在何方。他仅仅能辨别出他处身在一个宽大的，阴暗的看起来好像是巫师商店的壁炉中——但是这儿没有一样东西是霍格瓦彻学校书单要求的东西。 　　一旦放在坐垫上的干瘪的手装在玻璃箱里，一副染有血迹的扑克牌还有一只老盯着人的玻璃眼珠子。墙上的神情恐怖的面具好像在瞟着人看，柜台上堆放着各式各样的人骨头，还有一串串吊在天花板上的生锈的，长而尖的仪器。更糟糕的是，从这个积满灰尘的商店橱窗看出去，那条昏暗狭窄的街道肯定不是戴阿宫道。  　最好能尽早离开这里。哈利暗自想。刚才鼻子撞到了炉达现在还隐隐作痛，他也顾不上这么多了，蹑手蹑脚地快步走向大门。但当他走到一半时，发现大门玻璃的另一端出现了两个人影——其中一个就是哈利最木想看到的人——杰高。马尔夫，尤其是现在，他迷了路，浑身沾满煤灰还戴着一副破眼镜。 　　哈利往四处一看，发现在他左边有一个黑色的大橱柜。他一个箭步冲了进去，把柜门带上，只留下一条细细的缝，刚好可以看到外面商店的情况。几秒后，门铃响了起来，马尔夫走进了商店。 　　后面跟着那人毫无疑问是他老爸。他的脸色也是苍白的，脸型尖尖的，两只冷酷的灰眼珠简直是一模一样。马尔夫先生横跨过商店，慵懒地看着橱窗的货物，按响了柜台的铃。接着他转过身来对他儿子说：“不许碰任何的东西，杰高。” 　　马尔夫刚想伸手去摸那只玻璃眼珠子，他停住手说：“我还以为你打算给我买礼物呢！” 　　“我说过给你买比赛用的扫帚，我还没忘。”他老爸用指头有节奏地敲打着柜台的桌子。 　　“参加院队有什么好处啊？”马尔夫闷闷不乐地嚷道。“哈利。波特去年就有了灵光2000.丹伯多还特批准他代表格林芬顿比赛。 　　他根本就不够资格！这一切都是因为他出名，因为额头上那道难看的疤痕出名！ 　　“马尔夫弯下腰来仔细地端详着满架子的头盖骨。 　　“……每个人都说他如何如何地聪明、厉害，不就是那额头上有道臭疤痕和那根扫帚嘛——” 　　“你已经跟我说过波特起码一百遍，”老马尔夫瞪着他，不许他再说下去。 　　“我得再提醒你一下，就算你不喜欢哈利。波特，至少，你也得装着不讨厌他，否则你就太不精明了。因为他使黑暗爵士消失掉这件事，我们当中不少人都把他当作小英雄来看待的。——噢，勃津先生。” 　　一个男人弯着腰出现在柜台前，他正用手反复把垂在脸上的油溜溜的头发梳理整齐。 　　“马尔夫先生，您再次光临小店真是我的莫大的荣幸啊。”勃津先生的声音和他的头发都是腻得流油。“真高兴啊——亲爱的小马尔夫少爷也来了——长的可真迷死人哦。我能为您们效劳吗？我得让您们看看这个，今天才运到的，而且价钱非常的公道——” 　　“我今天来可不是为了买东西的，勃津先生，我是来卖东西的。” 　　老马尔大打断了他的恭谨而热忱的推销。 　　“来卖东西？”勃津先生脸上绽放的笑容一点一点地枯萎了。 　　“你应该听说过吧，魔法部最近在搞突击检查，”老马尔夫说着从衣服里袋中拿出一卷羊皮纸，展开给勃津先生看。“我在家里藏了一些，嗯，一些不大方便的物品，我可不想被魔法部的人查出来……” 　　勃津先生摸出一副小眼镜架在鼻梁上，拿起老马尔夫的货物清单看了起来。 　　“估计魔法部不会来为难你，是吧？” 　　老马尔夫嘴唇向上抿成了一个弧度。 　　“现在他们还没查到家里。怎么说马尔夫家在魔法界还是有点名望的，但是现在的魔法部越来越喜欢管闲事了。最近有传言说新的马格保护法要出台了——这肯定是那个没事找事的笨蛋马格迷威斯里干的好事——” 　　听到这里，哈利觉得热血一阵上涌。 　　“——你看，这几种毒药可以使——” 　　“我知道，当然，我知道，”勃津先生说道。“让我再想想看……” 　　“我能买这个吗？”杰高打断了他们的谈话，手指着那只垫子上的干手说。 　　“啊，那叫做荣耀之手！”勃津先生把老马尔夫的清单放在一边，转身疾步跑向杰高。“在那只手上放一根蜡烛，烛光仅仅为拿这只手的人照明。这可是小偷和抢劫者的好帮手哦。马尔夫先生，您儿子的眼光可真独到。” 　　“我可是希望我儿子能比小偷和抢劫犯强些，勃津，”老马尔夫冷冷地说。 　　勃津先生马上回答道，“我从来没这样认为，呃，呃，我，呃，绝对没有冒犯您的意思。” 　　“不过如果他再不好好学习，把成绩赶上去的话，”老马尔夫的语气更冷淡了，“他也只能那样做了。”   　“这可不是我的错，”杰高反驳道。“学校的那些老师全都偏心的，那个荷米恩。格林佐——” 　　“我本来还以为你会为考试差过一个毫无巫师血统的女孩子而感到羞愧的呢！” 　　老马尔夫厉声喝道。 　　“哈，活该。”哈利暗暗的说。能看到杰高又羞又窘，想发脾气又得憋着的狼狈样真是人生一大快事。 　　“反正没什么差别，”勃津先生那把甜腻的声音又响了起来。“现在有没有巫师血统越来越不重要了一” 　　“我可不这样认为。”老马尔夫那双大鼻孔几乎翻起来向着天了。 　　“是的，是的，先生，我也不这样觉得。”说着，勃津先生深深地鞠了一躬。 　　“既然这样，我们该继续来谈谈我的出卖货物，怎么样？”老马尔夫马上说。 　　“勃津，我得赶时间，今天我还得去谈一桩大生意。” 　　他们开始讨价还价。哈利看着杰高一边端详着货架的物品，一边向着他的藏身处越走越近，他紧张得手心出汗了。他在一卷续刑官用的长绞绳旁停住了脚，读着卡片的说明，发出“咯咯，咯咯”的傻笑声。卡片固定在一条漂亮的蛋白石项链上，上面写着：“警告：切勿触摸！——已被下诅咒——迄今已有十九位马格为拥有此物而丧命。” 　　杰高转过身来，橱柜恰好在他前面。他一步一步地向前走…… 　　他开始伸出手来抓住门把干了…… 　　“好，就这样说定了，”老马尔夫在柜台的一端喊道。“杰高，来这里。” 　　杰高转过身走了。哈利用衣袖抹了抹额上的汗珠，好险啊。 　　“勃津先生，祝你生意兴隆。我明天在庄园等你把货运走。” 　　大门关上的一刹那，勃津先生讨好的态度来了个180度的转弯。 　　“老马尔夫，你自己可真赚不少了。如果你告诉我的消息是真的，你家起码还藏了另外的一半货，没列在单子上……” 　　低声地咕哝着，勃津先生走进了里屋。为了防范他突然转回来，哈利在柜里呆多了一分钟，然后，静悄悄地溜出了橱柜，穿过玻璃展览橱窗，出了商店的大门。 　　紧紧地把破眼镜贴在脸上，他向四处张望。现在他置身于一条暗黑的小巷中，巷子两旁似乎全是卖黑巫术用具的商店。他刚刚走出来的那间叫勃津和巴赫斯连锁店，好像是这最大的一间商店。在它对面摆设着一个令人恶心的橱窗展览，一堆干瘪的头颅。在两扇门下，放着一个装着硕大无比的黑蜘蛛的箱子，它们还是活的！ 　　在门口的过道处，两个衣衫褴楼的男巫盯着他指指点点，还不时地相互低声说几句话。哈利觉得全身一阵发冷，顺着小巷走开这所店子。一边走他一边得不时扶稳眼镜，心里响咕着怎么才能走出这条巷子。 　　在一间卖毒蜡烛的商店顶上，他看到了一块破旧的木制衔牌，写着：沃洛肯小巷。但是这也没用，哈利从来就没有听说过这名字。他估计因为在威斯里家的火炉里，呛了一口灰没把街的名字说清楚，所以才来到了这里。千万不能慌张，但他不知道下一步应该怎么做。 　　“亲爱的小朋友，你是不是迷路了？”一把声音在他耳边响起，让他吓了一大跳。 　　一个上了年纪的女巫站在他前面，手上放着一个托盘，里面放的全是人的指甲！ 　　她斜着眼睛看着他，咧开嘴露出了绿森森的牙齿。 　  哈利吓得向后退了几步。 　　“我没事，谢谢，”他说，“我只是——” 　　“哈利！你来这里干什么？” 　　哈利的心都几乎跳上了喉咙。巫婆也被吓了一跳，她盆子里的指甲像瀑布一般洒落在她的脚边。正当她恨恨地咒骂的时候，一个高大雄伟的身影出现在他们面前，是哈格力，霍格瓦彻学校的禽猎看守人。他大踏步地走向他们，两只甲壳虫似的小眼睛在偌大的竖立的络腮胡子的映衬下闪闪发亮。 　　“哈格力！”哈利松了一口气，声音嘶哑说。“我迷路了……那些弗罗粉……” 　　哈格力一手抓着哈利的衣领把他从女巫那拖到自己身旁，一下子把她的盆子给撞了个底朝天。她的尖叫声一直追随着他们跑出了婉蜒曲折的小巷，来到明媚的阳光下。哈利看到了那幢熟悉的乳白色的大理石建筑：格林高斯银行。哈格力已经把他领回到戴阿宫道了。 　　“真是一团糟！”哈格力那把粗哑的声音响了起来。他挥动起葵扇般的手用力地帮哈利拍掉身上的煤灰，他劲儿太大了，以致哈利站不稳，几乎撞进了药剂师门前的龙粪桶里。“别在小巷里打转转，嘿，我可真不愿意——那狗住的地方，哈利——我可不想其他人看到你在那——” 　　“我知道，”哈利说道。看到哈格力的大手又挥动起来，哈利赶紧闪到一边。 　　“我告诉过你，我迷路了——你在那干什么呢？” 　　“我在找肉食鼻涕虫的除虫剂，”哈格力发牢骚地说。“那些可恶的虫子把学校菜园的卷心菜都糟蹋掉了。你该不是一个人来的吧？” 　　“我和威斯里一家一起的，不过走失了，”哈利解释道。“我得去找他们。” 　　他们顺着街道慢慢的走。 　　“为什么你不给我写信？”哈格力说。哈利一直在他身边小跑（哈格力那双巨大的靴于每迈出一步，哈利就得跑三步才追得上。）哈利又向他解释了多比和在杜史林家的发生的事。 　　“那个红脸的马格（无巫术的普通人），”哈格力大声嚷道。“如果我早知道——” 　　“哈利，哈利，在这儿！” 　　哈利抬头一看，原来是荷米恩。格林佐正站在格林高斯白色楼梯的顶端问他招手。她飞快地跑向他们，瀑布似的棕色头发在风中飞扬着。 　　“你的眼镜怎么摔成这样子了？哈格力，你好……啊，见到你们两个可真高兴……你去格林高斯吗，哈利？” 　　“我找到威斯里一家后就去。”哈利说道。 　　“我想那用不了多久。”哈格力咧嘴笑着说。 　　哈利和荷米恩向四周一看，发现罗恩、弗来德、乔治、伯希和威斯里先生正从拥挤的人群中挤了出来，朝着他们跑了过来。 　　“哈利，”威斯里先生喘着大气说，“我们一直在祈祷你不要超出一个火炉的距离……”他抹了抹汗光闪闪的秃头。摩莉担心死了——好了，她也找着来了。”“你究竟跑到哪个壁炉去了？“罗恩问道。 　　“沃洛肯小巷。”哈格力神色凝重地说。 　　“哇，这么棒！”弗来德和乔治同时叫了起来。 　　“我们不能去那儿。”罗恩羡慕地说。 　　“我想你们最好就不要去！”哈格力严肃地说。 　　这时，威斯里太太急跑着进了众人的视线，只见她一只手上的提包在空气中疯了似的前后摇摆，另一只手紧紧地拖着金妮。 　　“啊，哈利，亲爱的哈利，——你跑到哪去了？” 　　趁着喘气的时候，她从提包里拿出一把大毛刷子，开始帮哈利把哈格力没打下的煤灰扫干净。威斯里先生拿过破眼镜，用魔杖轻轻的一点，把一副完好如新的眼镜还给哈利。 　　“嘿，我该走了，”哈格力说道。他的手被威斯里太太紧紧地抓住，“沃洛肯小巷！如果你没碰到哈利，天啊，你说该成什么样子了！哈格力！”“在霍格瓦彻学校再见。“他大踏步走了，那高大的身影在拥挤的人群中显得格外显眼。 　　“猜一猜我在勃津和巴赫斯连锁店看见谁了？”上格林高斯楼梯的时候，哈利问罗恩和荷米恩。“是马尔夫和他的爸爸。” 　　“那个露布斯。马尔夫有没有买什么？”身后的威斯里先生很快地问道。 　　“不是，他是去卖东西。” 　　“哦，他肯定是很忧心。”威斯里先生严肃而满意地说。“我可真想逮住露布斯。马尔夫藏了些——” 　　“你得自己小心点，亚瑟，”威斯里太太迅速说。一个躬着腰的小精灵把他们让进了银行。“那一家子可不是好惹的，你可不要不自量力，自讨苦吃。” 　　“你觉得我斗不过那个露布斯。马尔夫？”威斯里先生愤慨地说。 　　但是一看到荷米恩的父母正站在花岗岩大厅里，着急的等待着荷米恩介绍他们，威斯里先生把刚才的斗嘴忘得一干二净了。 　　“你们是马格啊！”威斯里先生兴奋地说。“咱们去喝几杯！你们在这干什么呢？哦，来这换马格银币吧？摩莉，快来看！”他兴奋地指着格林佐先生手中的十磅纸币。 　　“呆会儿在这见面，”罗恩走以前跟荷米恩说。接着威斯里一家和哈利由另一个小精灵领去地底的保险库。 　  通向地底保险库的通道是纵横交错的小型火车轨道搭成的，一辆辆的小推车由精灵们驾驶着在地下隧道的车轨往返着。哈利很喜欢乘小推车到保险库的这段路途。　　但是当小车停下来，威斯里家保 　　险库门打开的那刻，他觉得很不自在，甚至比在沃洛肯小巷时更糟。 　　里面只有一小堆的镰刀币金币。威斯里太太神色坦然地走了进去，把全部的钱币装进提包里。让哈利感觉更糟的是当他们来到他的保 　　险库时。他急急忙地塞一些钱币到他的一个皮革袋里，与此同时，他尽量地用身子挡住门口，不想让他们看到保险库的东西。 　　再次回到花岗石楼梯后，他们就分头行动了。伯希低声咕味着想要一只长羽毛笔。而弗来德和乔治遇见了他们在霍格瓦彻学校的朋友，李。乔丹。威斯里太太和金妮正准备去二手魔袍店。威斯里先生坚持邀请格林佐夫妇到勒克卡通酒馆去喝上一杯。 　　“我们一个小时后在弗维里斯和巴洛特斯买书的时候再见！”威斯里太太拉着金妮一边走一边说。“你们可不要跑到沃洛肯小巷去了！”她回头朝着那对孪生兄弟越去越远的背影大声叮嘱道。 　　哈利、罗恩和荷米恩漫步在炕蜒的鹅卵石的小巷上。哈利口袋里的帆船币、镰刀币和克拉币兴奋地蹦来蹦去，好像迫不及待，争先恐后地要出来。于是他买了三个特大的草每花生奶油雪糕。他们兴高采烈地沿着小巷走下去。一路欣赏令人目不暇接的橱窗展览，一边“喷喷”地吮吸着雪糕。 　　罗恩渴望地望着“优质快迪斯用品专卖店”橱窗里的一套乍利大炮队魔袍出了神。直到荷米恩把他们两个拽去隔壁的羊皮纸和墨水店，他们才依依不舍地离开。 　　在甘宁和积波的巫术玩笑店，他们碰上了弗来德，乔治和李。乔丹，他们在积集“弗利巴斯特博士的神奇湿燃无热烟花”。在一个狭小的废品店。里面堆满了断魔杖，摇摇欲坠的黄铜天平和旧的斗篷，上面沾满各种药剂的痕迹。就在那，他们找到了伯希，他正在聚精会神地研究一本很薄但是看起来很闷的书——《操纵权利的完美奖章者》。 　　“一本研究霍格瓦彻学校三好学生事业发展状况的书。”罗恩把书背面的话大声地读了出来。“听起来还挺吸引的……” 　　“去，去，去。”伯希有点不高兴了。 　　“当然了，伯希很有雄心壮志的，他的目标可是……他想成为魔法部长……” 　　他们离开伯希以后，罗恩小声地跟哈利和荷米恩说。 　　一个小时以后，他们向着弗维里斯和巴洛特斯出发。他们可不是去那的唯一的人。当他们来到门口时，他们惊奇地发现有一大群人围在了书店门口，拼命想挤进去。门前玻璃窗上贴的横幅很好地解释了这一奇怪的现象：吉德洛。罗克哈特将于今天亲笔签名销售他的自传——《神奇的我》“我们今天有机会一睹他的风采啊！” 　　荷米恩尖叫着。“我是说，他写的书几乎占满了我们的用书清单。” 　　门前的人群好像大多都是威斯里太太年纪的女巫们。一个神色尴尬的男巫站在门口说道：“安静点，请各位女士们……不要互相挤拥……小心不要弄脏书本，现在……” 　　哈利、罗恩和荷米恩挤了进去。一条长长的队伍已经婉蜒地延伸到书店后面。 　　在那儿，吉德洛。罗克哈特正在为他的自传签名。他们每人拿了一本《对付女妖精方法谈》，挤进了队伍中威斯里一家和格林佐夫妇站的位置。 　　“啊，太好了，你们也在这。”威斯里太太说。她听起来好像喘不过气来，还不时地抚弄头发。“我们很快就可以看到他了……‘” 　　吉德洛。罗克哈特慢慢地走了进来，坐在一张四周贴满地的海报的桌子旁，海报上的吉德洛。罗克哈特正朝着众人眨眼，雪白的牙齿在闪光灯下
Chapter 5 The Whomping Willow
The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Harry's liking. He was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but his month at the Burrow had been the happiest of his life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when he thought of the Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time he turned up on Privet Drive.On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of Harry's favorite things, ending with a mouthwatering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny's trunk to the car.Harry couldn't see how eight people, six large trunks, two owls, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. He had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasley had added.“Not a word to Molly,” he whispered to Harry as he opened the. trunk and showed him how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily.When at last they were all in the car, Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Percy were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, “Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?” She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. “I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?”Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Harry turning back for a last look at the house. He barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back. George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife.“Molly, dear—”“No , Arthur --”“No one would see - this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser—”“I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight—”They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.Harry had caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn't visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.“Percy first,” said Mrs. Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed.“I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us,” Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.“Let's go together, we've only got a minute,” Ron said to Harry.Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and—CRASH.Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, “What in blazes d'you think you're doing?”“Lost control of the trolley,” Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of  muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.“Why can't we get through?” Harry hissed to Ron.“I dunno—”Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them.“We're going to miss the train,” Ron whispered. “I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself—”Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds… nine seconds…He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid.Three seconds… two seconds… one second…“It's gone,” said Ron, sounding stunned. “The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?”Harry gave a hollow laughed. “The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for about six years.”Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.“Can't hear a thing,” he said tensely, “What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us.”They looked around. People were still watching them, mainly because of Hedwig's continuing screeches.“I think we'd better go and wait by the car,” said Harry. “We're attracting too much atten—”“Harry!” said Ron, his eyes gleaming. “The car!”“What about it?”“We can fly the car to Hogwarts!”“But I thought—”“We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy—”“But your Mum and Dad…” said Harry, pushing against the barrier again in the vain hope that it would give way. “How will they get home?”“They don't need the car!” said Ron impatiently. “They know how to Apparate! You know, just vanish and reappear at home! They only bother with Floo powder and the car because we're all underage and we're not allowed to Apparate yet…”Harry's feeling of panic turned suddenly to excitement.“Can you fly it?”“No, problem,” said Ron, wheeling his trolley around to face the exit. “C'mon, let's go. If we hurry we'll be able to follow the Hogwarts Express—”And they marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back onto the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked.Ron unlocked the cavernous trunk with a series of taps from his wand. They heaved their luggage back in, put Hedwig on the back seat, and got into the front.“Check that no one's watching,” said Ron, starting the ignition with another tap of his wand. Harry stuck his head out of the window: Traffic was rumbling along the main road ahead, but their street was empty.“Okay,” he said.Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished - and so did they. Harry could feel the seat vibrating beneath him, hear the engine, feel his hands on his knees and his glasses on his nose, but for all he could see, he had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.“Let's go,” said Ron's voice from his right.And the ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below them.Then there was a popping noise and the car, Harry, and Ron reappeared.“Uh-oh,” said Ron, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. “It's faulty—”Both of them pummeled it. The car vanished. Then it flickered back again.“Hold on!” Ron yelled, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator; they shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.“Now what?” said Harry, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on them from all sides.“We need to see the train to know what direction to go in,” said Ron.“Dip back down again - quickly—”They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground.“I can see it!” Harry yelled. “Right ahead - there!”The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below them like a scarlet snake.“Due north,” said Ron, checking the compass on the dashboard. “Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so - hold on—”And they shot up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight.It was a different world. The wheels of the car skimmed the sea of fluffy cloud, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.“All we've got to worry about now are airplanes,” said Ron.They looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, they couldn't stop.It was as though they had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, thought Harry, was surely the only way to travel - past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the prospect of seeing Fred's and George's jealous faces when they landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping lawn in front of Hogwarts castle.They made regular checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing them a different view. London was soon far behind them, replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide, purplish moors, a great city alive with cars like multicolored ants, villages with tiny toy churches.Several uneventful hours later, however, Harry had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off. The toffees had made them extremely thirsty and they had nothing to drink. He and Ron had pulled off their sweaters, but Harry's T-shirt was sticking to the back of his seat and his glasses kept sliding down to the end of his sweaty nose. He had stopped noticing the fantastic cloud shapes now and was thinking longingly of the train miles below, where you could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from a trolley pushed by a plump witch. Why hadn't they been able to get onto platform nine and three-quarters?“Can't be much further, can it?” croaked Ron, hours later still, as the sun started to sink into their floor of cloud, staining it a deep pink. “Ready for another check on the train?”It was still right below them, winding its way past a snowcapped mountain. It was much darker beneath the canopy of clouds.Ron put his foot on the accelerator and drove them upward again, but as he did so, the engine began to whine.Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances.“It's probably just tired,” said Ron. “It's never been this far before…”And they both pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker. Stars were blossoming in the blackness. Harry pulled his sweater back on, trying to ignore the way the windshield wipers were now waving feebly, as though in protest.“Not far,” said Ron, more to the car than to Harry, “not far now,” and he patted the dashboard nervously.When they flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, they had to squint through the darkness for a landmark they knew.“There!” Harry shouted, making Ron and Hedwig jump. “Straight ahead!”Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle.But the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed.“Come on,” Ron said cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, “nearly there, come on—”The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the hood. Harry found himself gripping the edges of his seat very hard as they flew toward the lake.The car gave a nasty wobble. Glancing out of his window, Harry saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below. Ron's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The car wobbled again.“Come on,” Ron muttered.They were over the lake - the castle was right ahead - Ron put his foot down.There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.“Uh-oh,” said Ron, into the silence.The nose of the car dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.“Noooooo!” Ron yelled, swinging the steering wheel around; they missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.Ron let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his wand out of his back pocket—“STOP! STOP!” he yelled, whacking the dashboard and the windshield, but they were still plummeting, the ground flying up toward them—“WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!” Harry bellowed, lunging for the steering wheel, but too late—CRUNCH.With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; a golfball-size lump was throbbing on Harry's head where he had hit the windshield; and to his right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.“Are you okay?” Harry said urgently.“My wand,” said Ron, in a shaky voice. “Look at my wand—”It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.Harry opened his mouth to say he was sure they'd be able to mend it up at the school, but he never even got started. At that very moment, something hit his side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending him lurching sideways into Ron, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.“What's happen -?”Ron gasped, staring through the windshield, and Harry looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the car it could reach.“Aaargh!” said Ron as another twisted limb punched a large dent into his door; the windshield was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in.“Run for it!” Ron shouted, throwing his full weight against his door, but next second he had been knocked backward into Harry's lap by a vicious uppercut from another branch.“We're done for!” he moaned as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating - the engine had restarted.“Reverse!” Harry yelled, and the car shot backward; the tree was still trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.“That,” panted Ron, “was close. Well done, car—”The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and Harry felt his seat tip sideways: Next thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told him that the car was ejecting their luggage from the trunk; Hedwig's cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an angry screech and sped off toward the castle without a backward look. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.“Come back!” Ron yelled after it, brandishing his broken wand. “Dad'll kill me!”But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.“Can you believe our luck?” said Ron miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers. “Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back.”He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.“Come on,” said Harry wearily, “we'd better get up to the school…”It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold, and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.“I think the feast's already started,” said Ron, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. “Hey - Harry - come and look - it's the Sorting!”Harry hurried over and, together, he and Ron peered in at the Great Hall.Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Harry saw a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Harry well remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision as it muttered aloud in his ear. For a few horrible seconds he had feared that the hat was going to put him in Slytherin, the house that had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other but he had ended up in Gryffindor, along with Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys. Last term, Harry and Ron had helped Gryffindor win the House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years.A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Harry's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Harry saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.“Hang on…” Harry muttered to Ron. “There's an empty chair at the staff table… Where's Snape?”Professor Severus Snape was Harry's least favorite teacher. Harry also happened to be Snape's least favorite student. Cruel, sarcastic, and disliked by everybody except the students from his own house (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions.“Maybe he's ill!” said Ron hopefully.“Maybe he's left ,” said Harry, “because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!”“Or he might have been sacked!” said Ron enthusiastically. “I mean, everyone hates him—”“Or maybe,” said a very cold voice right behind them, “he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train.”Harry spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he was smiling in a way that told Harry he and Ron were in very deep trouble.“Follow me,” said Snape.Not daring even to look at each other, Harry and Ron followed Snape up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.“In!” he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.They entered Snape's office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, in which floated all manner of revolting things Harry didn't really want to know the name of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.“So,” he said softly, “the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang , did we, boys?”“No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it—”“Silence!” said Snape coldly. “What have you done with the car?” Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Harry the impression of being able to read minds. But a moment later, he understood, as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet . “You were seen,” he hissed, showing them the headline : FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read aloud: “Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower… at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing… Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police… Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?” he said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. “Dear, dear… his own son…”Harry felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Mr. Weasley had bewitched the car… he hadn't thought of that…“I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow,” Snape went on.“That tree did more damage to us than we -” Ron blurted out.“Silence!” snapped Snape again. “Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here.”Harry and Ron stared at each other, white-faced. Harry didn't feel hungry any more. He now felt extremely sick. He tried not to look at a large, slimy something suspended in green liquid on a shelf behind Snape's desk. If Snape had gone to fetch Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, they were hardly any better off. She might be fairer than Snape, but she was still extremely strict.Ten minutes later, Snape returned, and sure enough it was Professor McGonagall who accompanied him. Harry had seen Professor McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how thin her mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry before. She raised her wand the moment she entered; Harry and Ron both flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.“Sit,” she said, and they both backed into chairs by the fire.“Explain,” she said, her glasses glinting ominously.Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let them through.“- so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train.”“Why didn't you send us a letter by owl? I believe you have an owl?” Professor McGonagall said coldly to Harry.Harry gaped at her. Now she said it, that seemed the obvious thing to have done.“I - I didn't think—”“That,” said Professor McGonagall, “is obvious.”There was a knock on the office door and Snape, now looking happier than ever, opened it. There stood the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.Harry's whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually grave. He stared down his very crooked nose at them, and Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, “Please explain why you did this.”It would have been better if he had shouted. Harry hated the disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told Dumbledore everything except that Mr. Weasley owned the bewitched car, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to find a flying car parked outside the station. He knew Dumbledore would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions about the car. When Harry had finished, he merely continued to peer at them through his spectacles.“We'll go and get our stuff,” said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice.“What are you talking about, Weasley?” barked Professor McGonagall.“Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?” said Ron.Harry looked quickly at Dumbledore.“Not today, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore. “But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you.”Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled. He cleared his throat and said, “Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree - surely acts of this nature—”“It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys'punishments, Severus,” said Dumbledore calmly. “They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility.” He turned to Professor McGonagall. “I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample—”Snape shot a look of pure venom at Harry and Ron as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.“You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding.”“Not much,” said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve.“Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted—”“The Sorting Ceremony is over,” said Professor McGonagall. “Your sister is also in Gryffindor.”“Oh, good,” said Ron.“And speaking of Gryffindor -” Professor McGonagall said sharply, but Harry cut in: “Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it - should it?” he finished, watching her anxiously.Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but he was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway.“I will not take any points from Gryffindor,” she said, and Harry's heart lightened considerably. “But you will both get a detention.” It was better than Harry had expected. As for Dumbledore's writing to the Dursleys, that was nothing. Harry knew perfectly well they'd just be disappointed that the Whomping Willow hadn't squashed him flat.Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.“You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory,” she said. “I must also return to the feast.”When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.“I thought we'd had it,” he said, grabbing a sandwich.“So did I,” said Harry, taking one, too.“Can you believe our luck, though?” said Ron thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. “Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times and no Muggle ever saw them .” He swallowed and took another huge bite. ” Why couldn't we get through the barrier?”Harry shrugged. “We'll have to watch our step from now on, though,” he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. “Wish we could've gone up to the feast…”“She didn't want us showing off,” said Ron sagely. “Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by flying car.”When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept refilling itself) they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.“Password?” she said as they approached.“Er -” said Harry.They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward them.“There you are! Where have you been ? The most ridiculous rumors - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car!”“Well, we haven't been expelled,” Harry assured her.“You're not telling me you did fly here?” said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.“Skip the lecture,” said Ron impatiently, “and tell us the new password.”“It's wattlebird,'” said Hermione impatiently, “but that's not the point—”Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them.“Brilliant!” yelled Lee Jordan. “Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years—”“Good for you,” said a fifth year Harry had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, “Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?”Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once.“Got to get upstairs - bit tired,” he said, and the two of them started pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.“Night,” Harry called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl just like Percy's.They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.Ron grinned guiltily at Harry.“I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, but…”The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.“Unbelievable!” beamed Seamus.“Cool,” said Dean.“Amazing,” said Neville, awestruck.Harry couldn't help it. He grinned, too.
对于哈利来说，这个假期实在过得太快了。虽然他很向往霍格瓦彻学校的生活，但是他在巴洛的这个月是他一生中最幸福的日子了。想到杜史林一家和下次他在普里怀特街露面时，他会得到的招待，他忍不住妒忌罗恩了。 　　在临走的那晚，威斯里太太准备了一顿丰富的晚餐，全是哈利爱吃的菜，最后还有一道令人食指大动的蜜糖布丁。弗来德和乔治的弗利巴斯特烟花演出让这个晚上更多姿多彩。无数红色和蓝色的星星在厨房的墙上，天花上碰撞反弹，起码持续了半个小时。然后吃完一大杯热巧克力，他们就上床睡觉了。 　　第二天早上出发前可费了不少时间。乌鸦闹钟一叫，他们就起床。但是他们好像有好多好多东西要干。威斯里太太忙上忙下地找备用的袜子和长翎毛。威斯里先生穿过园子帮金妮把行李拿进汽车时，被一只迷路的小鸡绊了一下，几乎把脖子都摔断了。其余的几个睡眼惺松，衣服还没穿整齐，手平拿着吃了一半的烤面包，老在楼梯处撞到一块。 　　哈利真想不出八个人，六只大皮箱，两只猫头鹰和一只老鼠究竟怎么才能挤到那辆小小的安格莱福特车里。他没想到，这也难怪，威斯里先生这部车子是施过法术的。 　　“不要对摩莉说，”他悄悄地告诉哈利。他打开车底座，让哈利看看用魔法扩大后的底座，行李箱都能轻而易举地放进去。 　　最后，当他们全坐上车子，威斯里太太向后座瞧了又瞧，哈利、罗恩、乔治和伯希舒舒服服地肩并肩地坐着，她忍不住说：“马格人确实比我们想象中厉害多了，是吧？”她和金妮坐进前座，这前座已被魔法变得和公园里的长凳一样了，“我是说，在外面看，你们怎么也猜不到这里面居然有这么多的空间吧？” 　　威斯里先生发动了引擎，慢慢的地驶出了院了。哈利转过头来最后望了一眼房子。当他依依不舍地在想不知道什么时候才能再看到这所房子的时候，车子转了个弯又回到院子里。乔治忘了
拿他的弗利巴斯特烟花了。五分钟以后，他们又刹车回到院子，这次是弗来德的扫帚。几乎来到大路上时，金妮突然一声尖叫，原来她忘了拿日记本了。等她重新爬回车子上时，他们已经是非
常晚了，大家都很紧张。 　　威斯里先生看了看表，转向了他妻子。 　　“亲爱的，摩莉——”‘“不行，亚瑟。” 　　“没有人会看到的。这小按钮可以使车子隐形——这样我们就可以飞起来——然后飞过云层。我们仅仅十分钟就可以到达了，没人会发觉的……” 　　“我说过，不行，亚瑟，不能在大白天。” 　　他们在十点四十九分赶到了车站。威斯里冲过马路取来小推车把行李全搬上去，大家急急忙忙地赶去月台。 　　哈利去年乘坐过霍格瓦彻特快专列。这最有技巧的是在月台九又四分之三上上车，因为这个月台马格人是看不见的。你得在九号和十号月台之间的牢固的栅栏中走过去。不过这不会碰伤的，因为这个精细的设计就是为了不让任何马格人发现你突然消失掉。 　　“伯希先走，”威斯里太太说道，她紧张地望着头顶上的时钟，只有五分钟让他们穿过栅栏了。 　　伯希轻快的大踏步向前，消失了。威斯里紧接着，然后是乔治和弗来德。 　　“我和金妮先走，然后你们紧跟着来，”威斯里太太对哈利和罗恩说，她拖着金妮的手走，一眨眼的工夫就走了。 　　“我们一块走吧，还剩一分钟了。”罗恩对哈利说。 　　哈利检查了一下海维的笼子确实是安稳地塞进了行李间的空隙里，然后把手推车扶正面对着栅栏。他对这次的旅途充满了信心，至少也不会像上一次用弗罗粉那样狼狈了。他们两个把身子弯到小车的扶手处，朝着栅栏加速前进。还差几英尺时，他们跑了起来——大碰撞！ 　　两辆推车都撞到了栅栏上，然后向后反弹。罗恩“呼”的一声倒下了；哈利则被撞翻在地上。海维的笼子被弹到光亮的地板上，她随着笼子不断被转动，发出愤怒的叫声。身边的人都盯着他们看。一个保安员还冲着他们大嚷：“你们究竟在干什么？” 　　“我们一下子拉不住这小车子。”哈利喘着气说。他捂着肋骨勉强站了起来。 　　罗恩跑过去捡起海维，它已经酿成了一场不大不小的轰动了，围观的人们不时地小声谴责这种虐待动物的行径。 　　“为什么我们走不过去？”哈利小声地问道。 　　“我不知道——” 　　罗恩慌乱地往四周瞧了瞧。至少有一打好奇的人还在盯着他们看。 　　“我们赶不上搭火车了，”罗恩轻声说。“我真不明白为什么通道会自动关闭……” 　　哈利抬头望着大钟，心里非常不舒服。十秒……九…… 　　“开走了，”罗恩说，神情恍惊地说。“火车已经开了。如果爸爸妈妈不回来接我们可怎么办？你有没有马格人的钱？” 　　哈利苦笑了一下。“杜史林已经六年没给我零花钱了。” 　　罗恩把耳朵紧紧地贴在冰冷的栅栏上。 　　“什么都听不到，”他紧张地说。“我们可怎么办？我不知道什么时候爸爸妈妈才能回来把我们接回去。” 　　他们四处看了看。人们还在望着他们，这主要是因为海维连续不断的尖叫声。 　　“我想咱们最好回到汽车上等，”哈利说。“我们太引人注目了”哈利！“罗恩说，他的眼睛发出了亮光。”那部车子！”“那又怎么样？” 　　“我们可以坐着车子飞回学校！” 　　“但是我觉得——” 　　“我们现在走投无路了，是不是？我们得想个办法回学校啊！在紧急情况下，即使是不够年龄的巫师也可以使用魔法，这好像是限制法令第十九章什么的提到过的……” 　　哈利的惊恐现在突然变成了兴奋。 　　“你会飞那辆车吗？” 　　“没问题，”罗恩说着把他的小推车驶向出口。“来吧，咱们一起走。如果我们抓紧时间的话，我们可以跟得上霍格瓦沏特快专列的。” 　　他们从一群好奇的马格人身边走过，出了火车站，过了马路，来到那辆旧安格莱福特车旁。 　　罗恩用魔杖点击了很多下，才打开了巨大的底座。他们把行李放了回去，把海维放到后座，就钻进了前座。 　　“瞧仔细有没有人了。”罗恩轻轻地一按魔杖，打开了引擎。哈利把头伸出窗户：前面大路交通拥挤，但是他们所在的这条街却空无一人。 　　“可以了。”他说。 　　罗恩按下了控制台上的一个小小的银色按钮。车子消失了——他们也消失了。 　　哈利感觉到屁股下的椅子在剧烈的震动，他可以听到引擎在响，感觉到他的手放在膝盖上，眼镜架在鼻梁上，但是从他所看到的来分析，他好像变成了一对眼珠子，在离地几十英尺的空气中浮动在一条挤满车子的肮脏的街道上。 　　“咱们走吧。”罗恩的声音从他的右边传来，地面和两边肮脏的建筑物飞快地向后退去，最后随着车子逐渐升高而看不见了。几秒后，整个烟雾迷绕而闪闪发光的伦敦城尽收眼底。 　　接着一阵嘈杂声过后，哈利和罗恩现形了。 　　“啊，噢，”罗恩打了几下隐形加速纽。“可能这有毛病——” 　　两个人轮流用拳头捶打那颗按钮，车子隐形了，但不一会它又再次现形了。 　　“加油啊！”罗恩喊道，他用劲踩下加速器；他们直飞向羊毛似的低层云里，什么都变得阴沉，模糊起来。 　　“现在怎么办？”哈利问道，朝着从四面八方涌过来的一团团的云直眨眼。 　　“我们得去瞧瞧火车往哪个方向去。”罗恩说道。 　　“再下去看一看——快点——” 　　他们降到云层下面，在座位上挪动着，探头斜视着地面一“我看到了！”哈利大喊道。“右前方——就在那！” 　　霍格瓦彻特快专列在他们下面婉蜒地前进，好像一条猩红色的大蟒蛇。 　　“向南走，”罗恩说，检查着控制台的指南针。“好了，我们以后每半个小时就下来看一下。坚持着……”他们再次冲上了云层。一分钟以后，他们沐浴在明媚的阳光下。 　　这可是一个截然不同的世界。车轮掠过毛绒绒的云海，在眩目的阳光底下，天空是一片明亮的没有边际的蓝色。 　　“我们现在要担心的就是飞机了。”罗恩说道。   　他们相互看了一眼都忍不住大笑起来。他们笑了很长时间。 　　他们就像进入了一个美丽的梦境一般。哈利暗自想这才真叫做旅游啊：在云涡和雪白的云塔中穿梭，在车子里享受着温暖明媚的阳光，在口袋里还有一大盒的太妃糖，想象着当他们在霍格瓦彻城堡前偌大的草坪上安全降落时，乔治和弗来德嫉妒的表情。 　　他们跟着火车朝着南面越飞越远，每次下去看方向的时候，景色都跟上一次的大不一样。他们已经飞离了伦敦，取而代之的是一片整齐的绿地和广阔的酱紫的荒野人内庄，好像玩具似的教堂和一幢有很多像彩色蚂蚁的小车的大城市。 　　几个小时平安无事地过去了，但是，哈利不得不承认现在不如刚才想的这么有趣了。太妃糖太甜了，他们渴得要命，但是没有水喝。 　　池和罗恩不得不脱下毛衣外套，但是哈利的衬衣还是贴到了汽车椅子上，眼镜顺着汗水从鼻梁滑下来。现在，他不那么留意那些形状多变的云团了，而是渴望地望着下面的火车轨。在那儿，你可以在一个胖胖的女巫的手推车上买到冰凉的南瓜汁。为什么他们进不了月台九又四分之三呢？ 　　“差不多到了吧？”罗恩发牢骚地说。几个小时以后，太阳已经降到他们的云层下了，把云儿染成了一片粉红。“到时间去看看火车了。” 　　火车就在他们的下面，在一座白雪皑皑的山上境蜒前进。火车在云雾的衬托下，显得尤其的显眼。 　　罗恩双脚一踩加速器，再次回到云层里，但这次引擎发出了“呜呜”的哀鸣声。 　　哈利和罗恩忧虑地相互对望了一眼。 　　“会不会是车子太辛苦了”，罗恩说道。“它从来没试过这样……” 　　天色越来越暗，他们假装不再理会那越来越响的哀鸣声。星星在黑色的夜幕里欢快地眨着眼睛。哈利把毛衣重新容上，假装没注意车手挡风屏的横杆在无力的左右摇动着，仿佛在作无声的抗议。 　　“不远了，”罗恩说。在哈利听来，罗恩这话好像是对着车子说的。“离这不远了。”他紧张地拍了拍车头的控制台。 　　当他们再次飞下云层时，在黑暗中，他们睁大了眼睛，四处张望，试图寻找那熟悉的建筑物。 　　“在那儿！”哈利大声地叫了起来。下面熟悉的城堡和塔楼已经近在咫尺了。 　　但是现在车子在不断的科动，而且速度也渐渐慢了下来。 　　“走吧，”罗恩轻声哄道。在方向盘上，稍稍一用劲，“就在那了，走吧！” 　　车子的引擎呻吟起来。车后箱喷出几道气流。在他们飞跃过一个大湖时，哈利不得不抓紧座位的两个扶手以防被摔出车子外。 　　车子厌倦地左右摇晃。从窗口望出去，在一里的高度看下去，哈利看到的尽是一片光滑的、墨绿色、像玻璃般的湖面。罗恩握着方向盘的指节都变得苍白了。车子又在左右摇摆了。 　　“乖乖，走吧！”罗恩小声地恳求着。 　　他们在湖顶上……学校就在前方……罗恩把脚放了下来。 　　随着一声沉闷的响声，又是一阵乱响，引擎完全地停止了工作。 　　“哎呀！”罗恩说道，接着就不作声了。 　　车子往下掉。他们在不断地下降，而且速度越来越快，直直地往那堵城堡的围墙上撞去。 　　“不……不……！”罗恩大叫道。拼命地转动着方向盘；汽车划过一个优美的弧度，避开了坚实的墙，从高处直堕向草坪。 　　罗恩完全放开了拿方向盘的手，在后袋中拉出魔杖。 　　“停，停下！”他大喊道，狠狠地拍打着控制台和挡风屏，但是他们还是一个劲地往下坠，地面向他们飞一般地冲过来。 　　“当心那棵树！”哈利大叫起来，扑到方向盘上，但是一切都太晚了…… 　　又是一声巨响。 　　随着震耳欲聋的金属碰撞到木头的“砰”一声，他们撞到了树干上，然后掉到地面上，晃了好一会才打住。车尾箱“轰”的一声爆炸，烟雾全喷出来；海维在惊恐的尖叫。由于撞上挡风屏的地方，一个高尔夫球大小的包在哈利额头上肿了起来。 　　在他右手边，罗恩发出了一声低沉地绝望的呻吟。 　　“你没事吧？”哈利急切地问道。 　　“我的魔杖，”罗恩颤抖地说，“你看看我的魔杖……” 　　它被折断了，几乎断成了两半；顶部有气无力地垂在那，仅仅由几块碎片连着。 　　哈利张大嘴巴刚想安慰一下他，魔杖可以在学校修理一下，但是他还没来得及说，车子就被一股巨大的力量撞得左摇右晃了。他被摔向了罗恩，与此同时，车项被什么东西猛烈地撞击了一下。 　　“发生什么事了——？” 　　罗恩喘着大气，盯着挡风屏，这时，哈利也看到了，一根大蟒蛇粗细的树枝正往车身打过来。他们刚才撞上的那棵树在攻击他们！它的树身几乎折叠成两半，所有的树干都伸向了车子，并发出一阵阵的咆哮声。 　　“啊，啊，啊——！”罗恩看着又一根大树干问他猛打过来，把车门都撞出了一个小坑坑；在指节般大小的枝条铁锤似的打击下，挡风屏摇摇晃晃的战栗着。车顶好像也要被揭翻了…… 　　“快逃吧！”罗恩大叫了起来。然后整个人撞出了车门，但是很快他就被一棵疯狂攻击着的树枝打翻倒在哈利的大腿边。 　　“我们完蛋了！”他哀号了一声，这时车顶慢慢地被压了下去，但突然车子猛烈地震动了几下——引擎发动起来了。 　　“倒车！”哈利大喊，车子向后箭一般地飞退去。那棵树仍旧挥舞着树枝，他们还听到树根劈劈啪啪的想伸过来抓住他们的声音。 　　“啊，”罗恩端了一口大气，“好险啊。干得好，车子！” 　　但是，车子已经是精疲力尽了。两声闷响过后，车门开了，哈利觉得座位斜向一边：等他意识过来时，他已经坐到了潮湿的地面上了。巨大的响声告诉他，车子正把他们的行李一件件地抛出来。海维的笼子飞到空中就自动打开了；她怒气冲冲地叫着飞出来，头也不回地飞向城堡。接着，这辆被打得坑坑洼洼，破烂得这里一块，那儿一块，还在不断冒烟的小车跌跌撞撞的向黑暗中驶去，车尾灯怒气冲冲的一闪一闪。 　　“回来！”罗恩冲着它大叫，疯狂地挥动着魔杖，“老爸非杀了我不可！” 　　但是，车子累坏了，它喘了一口气，很快消失在黑暗中。 　　“我们的运气可真不坏啊！”罗恩悲哀的说道，弯下腰来拣起小老鼠斯卡伯斯。 　　“我们居然控上一棵会攻击人的树！” 　　他扭过头看着那棵古树，它还在张牙舞爪地挥动着可怕的树枝。 　　“算了吧，”哈利疲惫地说，“咱们最好去学校里面……” 　　这可不是他们原来料想的英雄式的到达方式。又冷又饿，身上还伤了好几处地方，他们拿起行李，拖着沉重的步伐走上草坡，向那扇橡木大门走去。 　　“我想迎新盛宴肯定开始了。”罗恩说道。他在阶梯前放下行李，走到一扇明亮的窗户前看了进去。“嘿，哈利，快来看看——分院仪式啊！” 　　哈利急忙跑过来，和罗恩一块向大厅里望去。 　　无数的蜡烛在四张长长的拥挤的桌子上摇曳着，金色的盘子和小酒杯在烛光的映衬下闪闪发光。头顶上，被施过魔法的天花板映照着外面的天空，星星一闪一闪的点缀在上面。 　 透过一堆密林似的黑色霍格瓦彻尖顶帽看过去，哈利看到一群惊慌的一年级新生在大厅里排成了一条长队。金妮也在里面，她一头威斯里家特有的红色头发在人群中格外的显眼。这时，麦康娜教授——梳着圆害子的受大家尊敬的女巫在凳子上给每位新生戴上那顶著名的分类帽。 　　每一年，这项缝着补丁的四角磨损的脏脏的魔帽负责着把新生分配到霍格瓦彻的四个学院里去（格林芬顿，史林德林，罗尼文克劳和海夫巴夫）。哈利还记得一年前把魔帽戴上时那种惊慌不安地等待‘它宣布结果时的心情，在几秒紧张的等待后，他还以为自己会被分到史林德林那个很多黑巫师和巫婆的学院里，——幸好，他和罗恩。 　　荷米恩还有其他威斯里的兄弟们分到格林芬顿学院。上个学期，哈利和罗恩帮助格林芬顿在七年里第一次击败了史林德林学院而赢得了学院冠军杯。 　　这时，一个瘦小的，头发乱蓬蓬的小男孩被叫了出来戴上分类帽。哈利的眼睛从他身上滑向了丹伯多校长，他坐在工作人员席上看着这次分学院仪式。他那长长的银色胡子和那半月型的酒杯花烛光的映照下熠熠生辉。在旁边的几张椅子上，哈利看到了吉德洛。罗克哈特，穿着碧绿色的长袍。在边上坐着身材魁梧的哈格力，正举起酒杯猛喝酒。 　　“等等，……”哈利小声地对罗恩说道。“那儿有一张空椅……史纳皮哪去了？” 　　史纳皮教授是哈利最不喜欢的老师。碰巧的是，哈利也是史纳皮最讨厌的学生。 　　史纳皮教的是生物药剂，除了他自己学院（史林德林）的学生外，其他的人都讨厌他那冷酷，爱嘲讽别人的态度。 　　“也许他病了！”罗恩满怀希望地说。 　　“也许他被调走了。”哈利说道，“今年他当不上黑巫术防卫课程的老师！” 　　“或许他已经被解雇了！”罗恩热切地说道。“我是说，人人都这么讨厌他——” 　　“或者，也许，”一个冷冷的声音在他们背后传来，“他正在耐心地等待着你们两个向他解释一下为什么不坐学校的火车回来呢！” 　　哈利急忙一个转身。在前面，史纳皮就站在他们前面，黑色长袍在寒风中飘舞着。他很瘦削，肤色菜绿，长着一只鹰鼻子，梳着～头油滑的披肩长发。现在，他的笑容告诉哈利和罗恩他们有大麻烦了。 　　“跟我来。”史纳皮说道。 　　哈利和罗恩跟着史纳皮脚步走了过去，脚步声在空旷的由火把点亮的进口大厅处的回响着，他们甚至不敢抬头交换一下眼神。大厅里弥漫着食物的香味，但是史纳皮把他们从温暖光亮的大厅带到了通向地牢似的办公室门前狭窄的石梯旁停住了。 　　“进去！”他在过道中开了一扇门，指着里面说道。 　　于是，他们浑身战抖地走进了史纳皮的办公室。在墙角的阴影里摆放着一架子的大玻璃瓶子，里面装的尽是些哈利此刻不知道，也不想认识的令人呕心的液体。 　　火炉黑乎乎，空荡荡的。史纳皮关上门，转身看着他们。 　　“呃，”他柔和地说，“我们的火车是不是配不上咱们著名的哈利。 　　波特和他忠实的伙伴罗恩坐啊？所以想给我们一个意外，是吧？” 　　“不是的，老师，在国王大道车站的栅栏——” 　　“安静！”史纳皮冷漠的说，“你们是怎么驾车来的？” 　　罗恩吞了一口口水。哈利觉得史纳皮好像又一次看穿了他们的心思。但是一刻钟后，他明白了其中的奥妙。史纳皮把今天的《先知晚报》摊开放在他们面前。 　　“你自己可以看看，”他恶狠狠地指着标题对他们说道。“令马格人迷惑不解的飞天安格莱福特汽车。”他开始大声朗读了起来。“两个在伦敦的马格人，坚信他们看到一辆旧车在邮政大楼上空飞过……在诺佛克的中午，海蒂。贝丽斯太太在晾衣服时……皮巴的安格斯。弗莱特先生，向警察局汇报了……”总共有六，七个马格人。我知道你爸是在禁止马格人滥用物品魔法部工作的吧？“他一边说，一边看着罗恩阴险地笑着说。”天啊，……他亲爱的儿子居然……“哈利觉得好像被怪树狠狠地抽打了一下似的。如果谁发现了威斯里先生给那辆车施过法术……他真不敢想象会有什么后果…… 　　“在我寻查校园的时候，我发现有一棵珍贵的胡宾（会攻击人的椰树名）柳树被弄伤了。”史纳皮继续说道。 　　“这棵树先攻击我们的，我们也不——”罗恩脱口而出。 　　“安静！”史纳皮再次打断了他。“最不幸的是，你们不在我管辖的学院里，要不我老早就把你们开除了。现在我要去请几个有这种权力的人来。你们在这里乖乖地呆着。” 　　哈利和罗恩对望了一眼，吓得脸色发白了。哈利不再感到肚子饿了。相反，他现在感到非常的不舒服。他试图不看史纳皮书桌后架子上那只悬浮在绿色液体中的小东西。如果史纳皮把麦康娜教授——格林芬顿学院的院长给带来的话，他们也好过不了。虽说她比史纳皮公正，但是她可是非常严厉的。 　　十分钟后，史纳皮回来了，还把麦康娜教授带来了。哈利仅仅在几次场合下看到过麦康娜生气的样子，但他从来没看到她的嘴唇可以抿得这么薄，或许她这次比上几次要生气得多。她一进来就举起了魔杖。哈利和罗恩不自觉地向后退了一步。 　　不过她指的只是火炉，火一下子烧了起来。 　　“坐下。”她说道，他们都坐到了火炉旁的椅子上。 　　“解释一下。”她眼镜里闪过不祥的预兆。 　　从火车站的栅栏说起，罗恩详细的论述了事情的原由。 　　“……我们没办法，教授，我们搭不上火车。” 　　“为什么不用你的猫头鹰给我们先送一封信？我想你们应该带上了猫头鹰的吧？” 　　不动声色地说着，麦康娜教授把头转向了哈利。 　　“我——我没想到——” 　　“那，”麦康娜教授说道，“可是显而易见的事。” 　　门口传来了敲门声，史纳皮幸灾乐祸的去开门。校长——丹伯多教授站在了门口。 　　哈利觉得整个人都麻木了。丹伯多看起来很威严。他盯着他们，哈利突然觉得他宁愿被那棵会攻击人的怪柳树狠狠地揍一顿算了。 　　一阵长时间的沉默。接着丹伯多说：“请你们解释一下这样做的原由。” 　　如果他冲着他们骂一顿的话，他们会觉得更好受一点的。哈利不想听到他声音中的深深的失望。他说不上是什么原因，但是他不敢看他的眼睛，只是看着他的膝盖说话。他把全部的事情都老老实实的交代了，只是威斯里先生拥有那辆魔法车子的事隐瞒了。他说得好像他们恰好在车站的停车场上找到一辆会飞的车一样。他知道丹伯多一听就会知道有问题，但是丹伯多没有追问车子的事。当哈利说完后，他只是通过镜片审视着他们。 　　“我们会自动自觉地收拾行李的。”罗恩垂头丧气地说。 　　“你在说什么啊，威斯里？”麦康娜教授反问道。 　　“嗯，你们不是要开除我们吗？”罗恩问。 　　哈利急忙抬起头来看着丹伯多。 　　“不是今天，小威斯里，”丹伯多说道。“但是我们得对你们的行为作出惩罚警告。我将在今天晚上给你们家长写信。我得警告你们如果下次再犯的话，我可真要把你们赶出学校了。” 　　史纳皮的神情就像听到圣诞节被取消了一样的失望。他清了清喉咙，说：“丹伯多校长，这两个小孩已经触犯了未成年人巫术禁令法，还有，我们那棵古老而珍贵的树也被严重损坏了……这显然也违反了保护树木法……” 　　“这该由麦康娜教授制定对他们的具体惩罚措施，史纳皮，”丹伯多平静地说。 　　“他们是她学院的学生，这是她的职责。”他转向麦康娜教授，“我现在要回到迎新宴上了，还要去宣布几条通知。来吧，斯瓦诺斯，我还想去尝尝那个美味的奶油果馅饼呢。” 　　史纳皮恶毒地瞪了哈利和罗恩一眼才不情愿地走出了办公室。 　　现在只剩下麦康娜教授了，她严肃地盯着他们。 　　“你最好去一下医务室，威斯里，你在不停地流血。” 　　“没关系，”罗恩说着赶紧用袖子抹去额头伤口处的血迹。“教授，我想去看一下我妹妹的分院……” 　　“分班仪式已经结束了，”麦康娜教授说道，“你妹妹也分到了格林芬顿学院。” 　　“啊，太好了！”罗恩叫了起来。 　　“说起格林芬顿学院——”麦康娜教授马上说，但是哈利打断了她：“教授，我们用那辆车子时，学期还没正式开始，那么，那么格林芬顿应该不会被扣分吧？” 　　他不安地望着教授。 　　麦康娜教授瞪了他一眼，但是哈利觉得她眼里含着一丝笑意。 　　而且，她的嘴唇也没抿得那么薄了。 　　“我不会扣格林芬顿的分。”哈利的心顿时好受多了，“不过，你们得留堂罚劳动。”麦康娜教授说道。 　　这比哈利预想的可好多了。至于丹伯多写信给杜史林，根本不算什么。哈利清楚地知道他们只会为那棵怪树没把他打扁而感到失望。 　　麦康娜教授又举起了魔杖指向桌面。“波”一声，一大碟三明治，两个银色的小酒杯和一罐冰冻南瓜汁出现在桌子上。 　　“你们在这里吃完就回去寝室吧。”她说。“我还得回去迎新宴上。”当门再次关上时，罗恩小声地吹起了口哨。 　　“我想我们的惩罚就到此为止了。”他边说边拿起了一只三明治，“我也这样想。”哈利也拿起了一只三明治。 　　“我们的运气可真是‘好’啊，”罗恩嘴里塞满了鸡肉和火腿，含糊不清的咕哝着。“弗来德和乔治用过那辆车起码五六次，但是就是没有马路人看到他们。” 　　他咽下一大口又咬了一大口。“为什么我们过不了栅栏呢？” 　　哈利耸了耸肩。“反正我们以后得事事谨慎，小心一点。”他满满地喝了一口南瓜汁。“我希望咱们能到迎新宴上……” 　　“她可不想我们露面，”罗恩谨慎地说。“可不能让其他人认为我们干错事却没被惩罚啊。” 　　他们敞开肚皮尽情地吃了很多三明治（碟子会自动装满食物），然后他们站了起来，离开办公室，像往常一样走回格林芬顿大楼。整个城堡寂静一片；看起来迎新宴是已经结束了。他们走过不时低声咕哝的肖像和发出怪响的盔甲，爬上石楼梯，来到格林芬顿楼的秘密进口，在一个穿粉色裙子的胖大婶的油画像后面。 　　“暗号是什么？”他们走进时，她问道。 　　“这个——”哈利说不出来。 　　他们还没碰到格林芬顿的三好奖章学生，所以不知道新学年的暗号是什么。但是很快帮手就来了；听见身后急速的脚步声，他们扭头一看，原来是荷米恩向着他们急急忙忙的走来。 　　“你们在这啊！去哪了？现在学校谣言说你们因为驾驶飞车要被开除。” 　　“噢，我们还没给开除。”哈利安慰她说。 　　“这么说，你们确实驾驶了飞车？”荷米恩的语气听起来和麦康娜教授一样的严厉。 　　“不要教训我们了，”罗恩不耐烦地说，“把暗号告诉我们吧！” 　　“是‘板条鸟’。”荷米恩也不耐烦地答道。“但是我还没说完——” 　　胖大婶移开了，里面传来一阵雷鸣般的鼓掌声，打断了荷米恩的说话。好像整个格林芬顿楼的人都醒了，大家都挤进了一个房间，有的站在桌子上，有的坐在椅子上，都在等待着他们的归来。几只手臂同时伸出把哈利和罗恩拉了进去，荷米恩也身不由己地跟了进去。 　　“好聪明啊！”李。乔丹大喊道。“有创意！驾驶着飞车在胡宾柳树上着陆，这件事可够大家说上几年的。” 　 “这小子不错！”一个从没跟哈利说过一句话的五年级学生拍了拍他的肩膀，好像他为学院赢取了“马拉松”冠军似的。弗来德和乔治挤上前来，一起问道：“你们为什么不把我们也叫去啊？”罗恩脸红了，不好意思的笑了笑。但是哈利觉察到有一个人一点都不高兴。 　　伯希站在一群兴高采烈的一年级新生中，想跟他们讲些什么道理。 　　哈利用手推了维罗恩的肋骨，示意让他看看伯希的方向。罗恩马上就明白了。 　　“我们得上楼休息了——好累啊！”他说着，两个人挤出人群，来到房子另一边的圆形旋转楼梯下。 　　“晚安。”哈利回头跟荷米恩说，她皱起了眉头，表情和伯希一样。 　　他们马上上楼，终于回到了他们的宿舍门外，现在门上贴着的牌写着：二年级。 　　他们踏进了熟悉的正方形房间，在四个高高的小窗户上，都贴上了一张用酱紫色作衬底的五人合照。他们的行李放在他们各自的床铺上。 　　罗恩内疚地朝着哈利咧嘴笑了笑。 　　“我知道我不该不劳而获地享受别人的清洁成果的，但是——” 　　宿舍的门一下于被打开了，同是二年级的谢默斯。芬尼更，达恩。 　　托马斯，和尼维尔走了进来。 　　“真是难以置信！”谢默斯一脸堆笑地说道。 　　“酷呆了！”达恩说。 　　“神奇！”尼维尔崇拜他说。 　　哈利也忍不住咧开嘴笑了。 
Chapter 6 Gilderoy Lockhart
The next day, however, Harry barely grinned once. Things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. The four long house tables were laden with tureens of  porridge, plates of kippers, mountains of toast, and dishes of eggs and bacon, beneath the enchanted ceiling (today, a dull, cloudy gray). Harry and Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione, who had her copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. There was a slight stiffness in the way she said “Morning,” which told Harry that she was still disapproving of the way they had arrived. Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, greeted them cheerfully. Neville was a round-faced and accident-prone boy with the worst memory of anyone Harry had ever met.“Mail's due any minute - I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot.”Harry had only just started his porridge when, sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Neville's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.“Errol!” said Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol slumped, Unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his beak.“Oh, no -” Ron gasped.“It's all right, he's still alive,” said Hermione, prodding Errol gently with the tip of her finger.“It's not that - it's that .”Ron was pointing at the red envelope. It looked quite ordinary to Harry, but Ron and Neville were both looking at it as though they expected it to explode.“What's the matter?” said Harry.“She's - she's sent me a Howler,” said Ron faintly.“You'd better open it, Ron,” said Neville in a timid whisper. “It'll be worse if you Don't My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and” - he gulped -“it was horrible.”Harry looked from their petrified faces to the red envelope.“What's a Howler?” he said.But Ron's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners.“Open it,” Neville urged. “It'll all be over in a few minutes—”Ron stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. Neville stuffed his fingers in his ears. A split second later, Harry knew why. He thought for a moment it had exploded; a roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.“-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE—”Mrs. Weasleys yells, a hundred times louder than usual, made the plates and spoons rattle on the table, and echoed deafeningly off the stone walls. People throughout the hall were swiveling around to see who had received the Howler, and Ron sank so low in his chair that only his crimson forehead could be seen.“-LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED—”Harry had been wondering when his name was going to crop up. He tried very hard to look as though he couldn't hear the voice that was making his eardrums throb.“-ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME.”A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Harry and Ron sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again.Hermione closed Voyages with Vampires and looked down at the top of Ron's head.“Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you—”“Don't tell me I deserved it,” snapped Ron.Harry pushed his porridge away. His insides were burning with guilt. Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. After all Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had done for him over the summer…But he had no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out course schedules. Harry took his and saw that they had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first.Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept. At least the Howler had done one good thing: Hermione seemed to think they had now been punished enough and was being perfectly friendly again.As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had only just joined them when she came striding into view across the lawn, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout's arms were full of bandages, and with another twinge of guilt, Harry spotted the Whomping Willow in the distance, several of its branches now in slings.Professor Sprout was a squat little witch who wore a patched hat over her flyaway hair; there was usually a large amount of earth on her clothes and her fingernails would have made Aunt Petunia faint. Gilderoy Lockhart, however, was immaculate in sweeping robes of turquoise, his golden hair shining under a perfectly positioned turquoise hat with gold trimming.“Oh, hello there!” he called, beaming around at the assembled students. “Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running away with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels…”“Greenhouse three today, chaps!” said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in greenhouse one before - greenhouse three housed far more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Harry caught a whiff of damp earth and fertilizer mingling with the heavy perfume of some giant, umbrella-sized flowers dangling from the ceiling. He was about to follow Ron and Hermione inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.“Harry! I've been wanting a word - you don't mind if he's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?”Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, “That's the ticket,” and closed the greenhouse door in her face.“Harry,”said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. “Harry, Harry, Harry.”Completely nonplussed, Harry said nothing.“When I heard - well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself.”Harry had no idea what he was talking about. He was about to say so when Lockhart went on, “Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of  course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Harry, Harry, Harry .”It was remarkable how he could show every one of those brilliant teeth even when he wasn't talking.“Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I?” said Lockhart. “Gave you the bug . You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again.”“Oh, no, Professor, see—”“Harry, Harry, Harry,” said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping his shoulder. “I understand . Natural to want a bit more once you've had that first taste - and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head - but see here, young man, you can't start flying cars to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, all right? Plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking! It's all right for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!'But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of  you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!” He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead. “I know, I know - it's not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row, as I have - but it's a start , Harry, it's a start .”He gave Harry a hearty wink and strode off. Harry stood stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering he was supposed to be in the greenhouse, he opened the door and slid inside.Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different-colored ear muffs were lying on the bench. When Harry had taken his place between Ron and Hermione, she said, “We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?”To nobody's surprise, Hermione's hand was first into the air.“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative,” said Hermione, sounding as usual as though she had swallowed the textbook. “It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state.”“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,” said Professor Sprout. “The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?”Hermione's hand narrowly missed Harry's glasses as it shot up again.“The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” she said promptly.“Precisely. Take another ten points,” said Professor Sprout. “Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young.”She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows. They looked quite unremarkable to Harry, who didn't have the slightest idea what Hermione meant by the “cry” of the Mandrake.“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” said Professor Sprout.There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.“When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered,” said Professor Sprout. “When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up. Right - earmuffs on .”Harry snapped the earmuffs over his ears. They shut out sound completely. Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.Harry let out a gasp of surprise that no one could hear.Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth. The leaves were growing right out of his head. He had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of his lungs.Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.“As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet,” she said calmly as though she'd just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia. “However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.“Four to a tray - there is a large supply of pots here - compost in the sacks over there - and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it's teething.”She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.Harry, Ron, and Hermione were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.“Justin Finch-Fletchley,” he said brightly, shaking Harry by the hand. “Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter… And you're Hermione Granger - always top in everything” (Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) “- and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?”Ron didn't smile. The Howler was obviously still on his mind.“That Lockhart's something, isn't he?” said Justin happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. “Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if Id been cornered in a telephone booth by a werewolf, but he stayed cool and - zap - just fantastic .“My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family…”After that they didn't have much chance to talk. Their earmuffs were back on and they needed to concentrate on the Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy, but it wasn't. The Mandrakes didn't like coming out of the earth, but didn't seem to want to go back into it either. They squirmed, kicked, flailed their sharp little fists, and gnashed their teeth; Harry spent ten whole minutes trying to squash a particularly fat one into a pot.By the end of the class, Harry, like everyone else, was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth. Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration.Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed to do was give his beetle a lot of exercise as it scuttled over the desktop avoiding his wand.Ron was having far worse problems. He had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn't pleased.Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone filed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.“Stupid - useless - thing—”“Write home for another one,” Harry suggested as the wand let off a volley of bangs like a firecracker.“Oh, yeah, and get another Howler back,” said Ron, stuffing the now hissing wand into his bag. ” It's your own fault your wand got snapped -‘”They went down to lunch, where Ron's mood was not improved by Hermione's showing them the handful of perfect coat buttons she had produced in Transfiguration.“What've we got this afternoon?” said Harry, hastily changing the subject.“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Hermione at once.“Why , “demanded Ron, seizing her schedule, “have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?”Hermione snatched the schedule back, blushing furiously.They finished lunch and went outside into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in Voyages with Vampires again. Harry and Ron stood talking about Quidditch for several minutes before Harry became aware that he was being closely watched. Looking up, he saw the very small, mousy-haired boy he'd seen trying on the Sorting Hat last night staring at Harry as though transfixed. He was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Harry looked at him, he went bright red.“All right, Harry? I'm - I'm Colin Creevey,” he said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. “I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think - would it be all right if - can I have a picture?” he said, raising the camera hopefully.“A picture?” Harry repeated blankly.“So I can prove I've met you,” said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. “I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead” (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) “and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move .” Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, “It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm aking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you” - he looked imploringly at Harry - “maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?”“Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos , Potter?”Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked, as he always was at Hogwarts, by his large and thuggish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.“Everyone line up!” Malfoy roared to the crowd. “Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!”“No, I'm not,” said Harry angrily, his fists clenching. “Shut up, Malfoy.”“You're just jealous,” piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's neck.“Jealous?” said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the courtyard was listening in. “Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.”Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly.“Eat slugs, Malfoy,” said Ron angrily. Crabbe stopped laughing and started rubbing his knuckles in a menacing way.“Be careful, Weasley,” sneered Malfoy. “You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school.” He put on a shrill, piercing voice. ” If you put another toe out of line—”A knot of Slytherin fifth-years nearby laughed loudly at this.“Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter,” smirked Malfoy. “It'd be worth more than his family's whole house—”Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, “Look out!”“What's all this, what's all this?” Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. “Who's giving out signed photos?”Harry started to speak but he was cut short as Lockhart flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, “Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!”Pinned to Lockhart's side and burning with humiliation, Harry saw Malfoy slide smirking back into the crowd.“Come on then, Mr. Creevey,” said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. “A double portrait, can't do better than that, and we'll both sign it for you.”Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.“Off you go, move along there,” Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry, who was wishing he knew a good Vanishing Spell, still clasped to his side.“A word to the wise, Harry,” said Lockhart paternally as they entered the building through a side door. “I covered up for you back there with young Creevey - if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much…”Deaf to Harry's stammers, Lockhart swept him down a corridor lined with staring students and up a staircase.“Let me just say that handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible - looks a tad bigheaded, Harry, to be frank. There may well come a time when, like me, you'll need to keep a stack handy wherever you go, but” - he gave a little chortle - “I don't think you're quite there yet.”They had reached Lockhart's classroom and he let Harry go at last. Harry yanked his robes straight and headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where he busied himself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of him, so that he could avoid looking at the real thing.The rest of the class came clattering in, and Ron and Hermione sat down on either side of Harry.“You could've fried an egg on your face” said Ron. “You'd better hope Creevey doesn't meet Ginny, or they'll be starting a Harry Potter fan club.”“Shut up,” snapped Harry. The last thing he needed was for Lockhart to hear the phrase “Harry Potter fan club”When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom's copy of Travels with Trolls , and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.“Me,” he said, pointing at it and winking as well. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!”He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.“I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in—”When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, “You have thirty minutes - start - now!”Harry looked down at his paper and read:1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart s favorite color?2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.“Tut, tut - hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti . And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully - I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples - though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!”He gave them another roguish wink. Ron was now staring at Lockhart with an expression of disbelief on his face; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were sitting in front, were shaking with silent laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was listening to Lockhart with rapt attention and gave a start when he mentioned her name.“… but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions - good girl! In fact” - he flipped her paper over - “full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?”Hermione raised a trembling hand.“Excellent!” beamed Lockhart. “Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so - to business—”He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.“Now - be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm.”In spite of himself, Harry leaned around his pile of books for a better look at the cage. Lockhart placed a hand on the cover. Dean and Seamus had stopped laughing now. Neville was cowering in his front row seat.“I must ask you not to scream,” said Lockhart in a low voice. “It might provoke them.”As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.“Yes,” he said dramatically. “Freshly caught Cornish pixies.”Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.“Yes?” He smiled at Seamus.“Well, they're not - they're not very - dangerous , are they?” Seamus choked.“Don't be so sure!” said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. “Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!”The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.“Right, then,” Lockhart said loudly. “Let's see what you make of them!” And he opened the cage.It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.“Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies,” Lockhart shouted.He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, ” Peskipiksi Pesternomi! ”It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, “Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage.” He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.“Can you believe him?” roared Ron as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.“He just wants to give us some hands-on experience,” said Hermione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm and stuffing them back into their cage.“Hands on ? “said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing out of reach with its tongue out. “Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing—”“Rubbish,” said Hermione. “You've read his books - look at all those amazing things he's done—”“He says he's done,” Ron muttered.
第二天，哈利就笑不出来了。从在大厅吃早餐开始，情势就急转直下了。在四张长长的桌子上摆放着小麦粥，几碟腌鱼和熏肉，从魔法天花板看上去，天空阴暗多云。哈利和罗恩坐在荷米恩身边，她正把《与吸血鬼同航》靠在牛奶罐边，认真地看着书。今天早上她向他们说早安时，语气硬邦邦的，显然她对他们的所作所为还是很不满意。尼维尔很欢快地向他们问好。尼维尔是个脸圆圆，记性最差的小男孩。 　　“我随时都会收到邮包的——我想爷爷奶奶会给我邮几件我忘带的东西。” 　　哈利才刚刚开始吃小麦粥，这时，头顶飞过上百只猫头鹰，它们相继飞了进来，绕着大厅盘旋。然后，纷纷把信件和包裹扔向卿卿喳喳的人群中。一只大大的、鼓鼓的包裹打在尼维尔的头上。仅仅一秒钟后，一件灰色的不明物体掉进了荷米恩的罐子里，把他们洒了一身的牛奶和羽毛。 　　“厄罗尔！”罗恩大叫起来，在牛奶罐子里提起浑身湿漉漉的猫头鹰。厄罗尔站不稳，又摔了下来，不醒人事。它的嘴上还叼着一个湿淋淋的红色信封。 　　“啊，不是吧——”罗恩倒吸一口冷气。 　　“没事的，它死不了，”荷米恩一边说，一边用指尖轻轻地抚摩着它的羽毛。 　　“不是它——是这个。” 　　罗恩指着那个红色信封说。哈利看不出有什么特别，但是尼维尔神色恐惧的看着它，好像这个信封会随时爆炸一样。 　　“什么回事？”哈利问道。 　　“她给——给我寄来了咆哮弹。”罗恩几乎晕倒了。 　　“罗恩，你最好打开它，”尼维尔怯生生地小声说。“如果你不打开的话，可能更麻烦。我爷爷曾经给我寄过一个，我不理它，结果——”他吞了一口口水，“反正很可怕了。” 　　哈利的目光从他们惊恐的脸上移到那个红色的信封。 　　“什么是咆哮弹？”他问道。 　　罗恩的注意力全集中在那封信上，信的四角开始冒烟了。 　　“快打开它，”尼维尔催促着。“几分钟就结束了。” 　　罗恩战抖地在厄罗尔嘴上取下信，抚平，撕开。尼维尔用手指塞进了耳朵。一眨眼的工夫，哈利就明白了。他还以为信爆炸了，一个愤怒的声音充斥着整个大厅，甚至把天花顶上的灰尘都震掉下来。 　　“……偷走了汽车，如果他们把你开除出校的话，我也一点不会感到惊讶的。 　　如果让我抓到你，你就有好瞧的。我想你从来没想过爸爸妈妈发现汽车不见了，会怎样地担心……” 　　威斯里太太的声音比平常的放大了起码一百倍，在空中嚎叫着。 　　桌子上的碟了和勺子被震得上下跳动着，石头墙反弹回来的声音也是震耳欲聋。 　　大厅里的人都转过身来看看是谁收到了咆哮弹，罗恩瘫坐在椅子上，恨不得把整个人缩成一团，不让猩红的脸被别人看见。 　　“……昨天晚上我收到了丹伯多的信，我想你爸会羞愧而死的。 　　我们从来没有教你这样做事，你和哈利本该撞死……“哈利终于等到了自己的名字出现。他装着用手塞着耳朵，听不见那响彻大厅的声音。 　　“……简直是家庭的耻辱，你爸在单位停职查问，这全都是你一个人的过错！ 　　如果你再敢踏错一步，我们马上把你接回家。” 　　终于说完了，人们耳边还是“嗡嗡”他作响。那个红色的信封从罗恩手中掉落在地上，很快自动地起火，一下子烧成了灰烬。哈利和罗恩坐在位子上，老半天说不出话来。几个人笑了起来，接着大厅响起了小声议论。 　　荷米恩合上了《与吸血鬼同航》，俯视着罗恩。 　　“我想你不会料到这样，罗恩，但是你——” 　　“不要说我是活该的。”罗恩反驳道。 　　哈利把他的小麦粥放到了一边。他良心很不安。威斯里先生现在给停职查问了。 　　毕竟这个假期多亏有了威斯里夫妇的照顾…… 　　他来不及想这么多了，麦康娜教授就来到格林芬顿桌子旁，分发课程表。哈利接过一看，今天他们的第一第二节课是史鲍特的草药课。 　  哈利、罗恩和荷米恩一起离开了城堡，穿过菜地，来到种植魔法植物的温室中。 　　如果说咆哮弹可以带来什么好处的话，那就是荷米恩觉得对他们的惩罚已经够重了，于是不再用冷淡的态度对待他们了。 　　他们走进温室一看，几乎全班都在了，大家都在等史鲍特。哈利，罗恩和荷米恩刚站一会就看到她大踏步从草坪走了过来，吉德洛。罗克哈特也跟在她的身边。 　　史鲍特老师手上缠满了胶带，哈利想起昨天那棵怪树，抬头一看，发现它也包上了很多绷带。 　　史鲍特是个矮矮胖胖的女巫，一顶大大的巫师帽戴在飞扬的头发上；她的衣服上粘了很多泥土，她的指甲要是让杜史林姨妈看到，肯定把她给吓晕。而吉德洛。 　　罗克哈特那碧绿色的长袍就显得一尘不染，他修剪得整整齐齐的金色的头发在碧绿的巫师帽下发出耀眼的光泽。 　　“哈，大家好！”罗克哈特微笑着向排好队的学生们打招呼。“我刚刚才给史鲍特老师示范‘胡宾’柳树治疗的方法。可我不想让你们觉得我在草药学上比史鲍特老师更有学问。我只不过在旅行中恰好碰到了其中的某几种珍奇的植物……” 　　“三号温室，孩子们！”史鲍特老师明显不满意了，说话也不象往常一样欢快。 　　大家卿卿派派地讨论着，往常他们去的都是一号温室，而三号温室里的植物有趣多了，也很危险的。史鲍特在腰带上解出一条大钥匙，开了锁。立刻，哈利闻到一股润湿的泥土气息和肥料的味道，夹杂着一些在天花上吊下来的伞状大小的花的浓郁的香气。他正准备跟着罗恩和荷米恩一起进去，但是手被罗克哈特拉住了。 　　“哈利！我一直想跟你说句话——你不会介意他迟到几分钟吧，史鲍特老师？” 　　从史鲍特老师的皱眉来看，她确实介意，不过罗克哈特当着她的面把温室的门给关上了。 　　“哈利，”罗克哈特一嘴雪白的牙齿在阳光中显得格外抢眼。他摇了摇头，“哈利，哈利，哈利。” 　　完全不知道他想干什么，哈利干脆不说话了。 　　“我听说——呃，那可全是我的过错。我真该把自己打一顿。” 　　哈利还是丈二金刚摸不着头脑。正当他想问罗克哈特时，罗克哈特又继续说：“你不知道我当时有多么的震惊啊。驾驶一辆飞车来霍格瓦彻学校！当然了，我马上就明白你为什么会这么干了。这可不好。哈利，哈利，哈利。” 　　他即使在不说话的时候还是找到机会把他那雪白闪亮的牙齿显露出来。 　　“我给你尝到了出名的甜头了吧？”罗克哈特说。“这样可宠坏你了。上次你和我登上了报纸的头条，你又想来一次吧？” 　　“啊，不是的，老师，你误——” 　　“哈利，哈利，哈利，”罗克哈特伸出手来抓住他的肩膀。“我完全理解你的想法。你尝到了甜头，当然会想再试一次了——我可是经常责备自己不应该那样做，因为我知道你肯定会想出名的——一但是，小伙子，你总不能驾驶飞车来达到出名的目的啊。不能太盲目冲动，是吧？等你长大了，出名的机会多得很呢！好，好了，我知道你现在在想什么！他当然这样说了，他可已经是国际知名的巫师啊。不过在我十二岁的时候，我也不过是个默默无闻的小孩子！我想说的是，现在很多人认识你了，是吧？消灭了‘那个人’！”他抬头看着哈利额头上的疤痕说。“我们，我知道，这比不上连续五年获得男巫周刊的最具魁力微笑奖，好像我一样，但是哈利，你才刚刚开始啊，这仅仅是一个起点。” 　　他向哈利眨了眨眼，大步走开了。哈利站在原地愣了好些时候，才记起得到温室上课。他推开门，走了进去。 　　史鲍特老师站在温室中央的一张高脚架后。大约二十来欢颜色各异的耳塞摆放在架子上。当哈利在罗恩和荷米恩身边坐下时，老师说，“我们今天来学习万锐克的植株。现在谁能告诉我万锐克的用途？” 　　像往常一样，荷米恩第一个举起手。 　　“万锐克或者叫万锐格克是一种非常有效的复形剂”，她熟悉得好像把整书吞进了肚子。“用于被诅咒或被变形的人恢复原状。” 　　“好极了，给格林芬顿学院加十分。”史鲍特老师说。“虽然万锐克是一种有效的解毒剂，但它本身却是非常危险。有谁告诉我理由吗？” 　　荷米恩的手再次飞快地举起来，这次差点把哈利的眼镜碰掉了。 　　“万锐克的叫声是致命的。”她准确地作出回答。 　　“非常正确。再加十分，”史鲍特老师说，“现在我们在这里看到的万锐克还很嫩。” 　　她指了指前面的一排碟子。大家挤上前瞧个仔细。一百株左右的簇生小植株种成一排，颜色是紫绿色的。哈利觉得一点都不特别，更加不能理解什么是万锐克“叫声”。 　　“每人拿一对耳塞。”史鲍特老师说道。 　　大家争先恐后地去抢一双颜色粉红和毛茸茸的耳塞，场面一片混乱。 　　“当我教你们如何种植时，千万记着得把耳塞戴好。”史鲍特老师说道。“当你们可以拿下耳塞的时候，我会把拇指向上指。好了，——把耳塞戴上。” 　　哈利把耳塞套在头上。现在什么声音都听不到了。史鲍待老师戴上一对粉红色的毛茸茸的耳塞，卷起长袍的衣袖，牢牢地抓住一簇植株，拔了出来。 　　哈利惊叫了一声，虽然这谁也听不到。 　　拔出土的不是根，而是一个矮小的，浑身是泥泞的很丑的小婴孩。叶子就长在他的头顶上。他皮肤是斑驳的浅绿色，从他的肺部剧烈的运动可以推知他在咒骂着史鲍特老师。 　　史鲍特老师在桌子下拿出一个大盆子，把万锐克塞了进去，用黑色的、潮湿的泥土和肥料埋过他的头，只剩下小簇的叶子。史鲍特老师拍干净手上的土，作了个拇指朝上的动作，然后脱下了耳塞。 　　“由于我们这儿的万锐克是幼苗，他们的叫声还不会致命，”她平静地说，好像刚才她只不过给秋海棠浇了一下水一样地轻松。“但是，他们会让你在几小时内人事不省，我想你们可不想在开学第一天就上不完课吧？好了，现在戴上耳塞，开始工作。下课要收拾东西的时候，我会提醒你们的。” 　　“每四人拿一个碟子——这儿有很多的花盘——泥土和肥料在这些袋子里——当心这种塔卡拉植物，它会咬人的。” 　　她一边说，一边拍了一下一棵深红色的长着倒刺的植物，让它缩回那慢慢爬上她肩膀上的长长的触角。 　　哈利、罗恩和荷米恩，还有一个卷发的小男孩一起是很自然地就分到一个小组。 　　“我叫贾斯廷。弗林契，”他欢快地握着哈利的手，“我知道你是谁，当然了，出名的哈利。波特……你是荷米恩。格林佐——什么考试都得第—……（荷米恩跟他握手时，得意地笑了笑）还有罗恩。威斯里。是不是你驾驶飞车的？” 　　罗恩却笑不出来，咆哮弹的事显然还在他心坎上。 　“罗克哈特可真厉害啊，”贾斯廷兴奋地说。他们把泥土和龙粪肥装在花盆里。 　　“他可真是个勇敢的家伙。你们有没有读过他的书啊？如果我被一只人狼逼进电话亭里，我肯定会被吓死了。但是他还能这么镇静，还想出办法打败它——简直是让人很崇拜佩服啊！” 　　“我本来是在伊顿公立学校上学的，不过，能在这读书甭提我有多高兴了！当然了，妈妈有点儿失望，但是自从我介绍她读了罗克哈特的书以后，她开始意识到家里有一个训练有素的巫师是多么有用……” 　　打那后他们聊天的机会不多了。他们戴上耳塞，专心地移植万锐克。史鲍特老师做的时候，他们觉得很简单，但实际上却不是这样。万锐克不喜欢被拉出土更不喜欢拉出来以后又被塞回去。他们不断地在蠕动，使劲地乱踢乱撞，用他们那尖尖小小的拳头打人，还咬牙切齿地诅咒。哈利整整用了十分钟才把一棵特别胖的万锐克压挤进花盆。 　下课时，哈利和其他人一样，已经累得汗流泱背，腰酸背痛，浑身沾满泥泞了。 　他们拖着疲惫的身躯回到城堡，很快的洗了个澡，就又赶去上变形课程了。 　　麦康娜教授的课一向都很难，这堂课更是特别的难。哈利去年学的东西好像在一个假期里给忘得一干二净了。本来哈利要把一只甲壳虫变成一粒纽扣的，但是搞了老半天，虫子在桌面上爬来爬去，哈利的魔杖就是点不中它。 　　罗恩的麻烦更大了，他的魔杖断了，他本来借来了魔力胶准备把断开的两半粘上，但是魔杖烂到无法再修理的地步了。它总在不恰当的时候发出“喀嚓，喀嚓” 的怪叫，还伴随着火星。每次罗思把魔杖点向小虫时，它总会喷出一股浓浓的灰烟把罗恩整个笼罩其中，烟雾中还夹杂着臭鸡蛋的味道。由于什么都看不到，罗恩一不小心用手肘压扁了小甲虫，不得已，又得问麦康娜再拿一只。很明显，麦康娜对此很不满意。 　　听到午饭铃响，哈利松了一口气。他的脑袋像一块被拧干了水的海绵。人人都排队走出了课室，除了哈利和罗恩。罗恩生气地把魔杖摔在桌子上。 　　“笨蛋……废物……这鬼东西……” 　　“写信回家再要一个吧，”哈利建议道，这时魔杖发出一阵“梆梆” 的齐鸣，就好像烧烟花一样。 　　“哼，再让他们寄一个咆哮弹给我啊？”罗恩一面把还在“嘶嘶”发响的魔杖塞进书包，一面说。“这是你自己的过错，把魔杖弄断了——” 　　他们下楼去吃饭，荷米恩给他们展示了她在课上制作的精致的大衣纽扣。罗恩的心情更不好了。 　　“我们今天下午上什么课？”哈利忙转换话题。 　　“黑巫术防卫课程。”荷米恩马上回答。 　　“哦，”罗恩取过她的课程表，说道，“怎么，你把罗克哈特的课全用心形给圈起来了？” 　　荷米恩一把夺回课程表，脸都红了。 　　他们吃过午饭，来到多云的院子里。荷米恩找了一个石阶坐下，又埋头读那本《与吸血鬼同航》，哈利和罗恩站着讨论了几分钟快迪斯球赛，突然，哈利意识到有人在旁边望着他。抬头一看，他发现是昨晚在分班仪式上看到的那个瘦小的，头发乱蓬蓬的男孩。他愣在那凝视着哈利。他手里紧紧地拿着马格人用的普通相机。 　　当哈利看过来的时候，他脸红得像熟透的苹果。 　　“你好啊，哈利。我——我是柯林。格雷锐，”他几乎有点喘不过气来，他试探性地向前走了一步。“我也是格林芬顿学院。你觉得——可不可以——让我照一张相片呢？”他举起相机，满怀希望他说。 　　“照一张相？”哈利茫然地重复道。 　　“这样可以证明我见过你，”柯林。格雷锐热切地说，又踏上前几步。“你的事迹我全知道，别人告诉我的。你是如何在‘那个人’的人手中逃生，还有他是怎么消失的，还有关于你额头上的闪亮的疤痕的事（说到这里，他的眼睛转向了哈利的发线处），我们宿舍的一个男孩告诉我如果我用适量的药水洗胶卷的话，相片里的景物和人都会活动起来的。”柯林兴奋地深呼吸了一下，“这很神奇啊，是吧？ 　　在收到霍格瓦彻学校的录取通知以前，我从来都不知道魔法能干这事。我爸是送牛奶的，他也不相信。现在我想照些相片寄给他。如果我能给你照一张相的话，那就实在太好了——“他恳求地望着哈利，”——你的朋友可不可以帮一下忙照一张相，我站在你旁边，然后你在上面签了名？” 　　“签名的相片？你在派签名的相片，波特？” 　　杰高。马尔夫怒喝的声音在院子里荡漾。他站在柯林的跟前，双手叉着腰，这是他在霍格瓦彻学校一贯的姿势，后面跟着高大、阴险的亲信，克来伯和高尔。 　　“大家排队噗！”马尔夫向着人群大喊。“哈利。波特向我们派签名相片啊！” 　　“不，我没有，”哈利愤怒地说，他的拳头紧紧地握着。“住口，马尔夫。” 　　“你不过在妒忌他罢了。”柯林附和着说，他的身体不过像马尔夫脖子般粗细。 　　“我嫉妒他？”马尔夫说道，他不用叫喊，半个院子的人也都听到。 　　“嫉妒他什么啊？我可不想在额头上多一条臭疤痕！我倒不觉得把脑袋瓜劈开来能让自己看起来特别些，当然，别人是不是这样想我倒不知道了。” 　　克来伯和高尔。在一边偷笑。 　　“去吃鼻涕虫吧，马尔夫！”罗恩生气地说。克来伯止住笑，恐吓地“劈劈啪啪”地弄着板栗般大小的指节。 　　“说话小心点，威斯里，”马尔夫冷笑着。“你不想又惹什么麻烦让你妈来学校把你带走吧？”他装模作样地捏着喉咙尖声叫道：“如果你再敢踏错一步的话——” 　　一旁的史林德林一群五年级学生听到大声笑了起来。 　　“威斯里想要哈利的一张签名相片，”马尔夫假笑着。“这可比他家的任何一样东西值钱哦！” 　　罗恩挥动起用魔力胶粘过的魔杖，这时，荷米思“啪”一下盖上书，低声说：“小心！” 　　“你们在干什么，干什么？”吉德洛。罗克哈特大步走向他们，他碧绿色的长袍在身后飘扬着。“谁在派签名相片？” 　　哈利刚想回答，罗克哈特一只手搭在他肩膀上，高兴地大声说：“早该知道是你了。咱们又见面了，哈利。” 　　哈利被罗克哈特紧紧地搂在身边，羞愧得抬不起头来，马尔夫假笑着溜回了人群中。 　　“来吧，小格雷锐，”罗克哈特满脸堆笑地对柯林说。“双人相片，怎么样？ 　　我们两个都给你签名，满意了吧？” 　　柯林激动得双手瑟瑟发抖，刚照了一张相片，下午上课的铃声响起了。 　　“你们先走，去那边上课。”罗克哈特对着人群喊道。他和哈利走向城堡。哈利这时多么希望能念出一个让自己马上消失的咒语，但是罗克哈特还是贴在他的身侧。 　　“有一句提点提点你，哈利，”罗克哈特一边关心的说，一边从侧门走进了城堡。“我帮了你的大忙——小格雷锐把我也照上了，你的同学们就不会认为你爱出风头……” 　　罗克哈特不理睬哈利的结结巴巴的解释，把他带到了一条走廊走上楼梯，许多学生盯着他们看。 　　“我说啊，你在这个阶段去派相片可不大明智——老实说，让人觉得好像有点骄傲自大，哈利。这要在条件成熟的时候去做，像我一样，你去哪都得带上一堆相片，随时都可能用得上，但是——”他得意地笑了起来，“我想你还没到这时候。” 　　他们来到罗克哈特的教室前，他终于让哈利走了。哈利一拉长袍，走到课室的最后面，然后他把罗克哈特的七本书都堆在桌子上，这样他就可以不去看罗克哈特的真人。 　　其余的同学吵吵闹闹地走进课室，罗恩和荷米恩坐在哈利的两边。 　　“你的脸可以拿来煎个鸡蛋呢！”罗恩说，“你可得保佑金妮不要碰上柯林，要不他们肯定会组织起一个哈利迷协会的。” 　　“不要再说了！”哈利不高兴了，他最不想的是让罗克哈特听到哈利迷协会之类的字眼。 　　整个班坐好以后，罗克哈特清了清喉咙，不做声。他向前走了一步，拿起尼维尔的《与巨人同游》，然后把书举了起来，向所有人展示封面上他微笑眨眼的画像。 　　“我，”他说，指着封面也眨了一下眼睛，“吉德洛。罗克哈特，默林级别第三级，黑巫术防卫联盟的荣誉会员，连续五次女巫周报最具魁力微笑奖获得者——本来我不想提起这个的，我向‘花心’女巫微笑而使她消失掉的。” 　　他等待着他们爆发出笑声，但是只有几个人轻轻地笑了一下。 　　“我想你们买了我的一套书了——这很好。今天我就给大家来个小测验，不用担心——这次测验只是想看看大家读了多少，理解了多少书本的内容……” 　　发完测验卷后，他回到课堂前面说：“你们有三十分钟的答题时间，好，现在开始厂哈利看着他的卷子，上面写着：l、吉德洛。罗克哈特最喜欢的颜色是什么？ 　　        2.吉德洛。罗克哈特最大的心愿是什么？ 　　3、你认为吉德洛。罗克哈特的最大成就是什么？ 　　几乎都是这类的问题，总共有三大张纸。最后一题是：64、吉德洛。罗克哈特的生日是几号？他最想收到的礼物是什么？ 　　半个小时以后，罗克哈特收起了卷子，在班上翻阅起来。 　　“啧，啧——你们很少有人记得我喜欢的颜色是淡紫色。我在《与雪人一起的日子》提到过这点。还有，你们还得去仔细读读《与人狼共度周末》，我在12章里写得很清楚，我最希望的生日愿望是会魔法的人和不会魔法的人能和谐共处——不过，我也不会拒绝一大瓶沃得哥的陈年威士忌的！” 　　他又向他们眨了眨眼。罗恩不可置信地望着罗克哈特；坐在前面的谢默斯。芬尼更和达恩。托马斯忍不住偷偷的笑了起来。荷米恩则全神贯注地听着罗克哈特的说话，随时准备着听到他提到自己的名字。 　　“……但是荷米恩。格林佐知道我的最大心愿是扫除世界的恶魔和成功推广我的护发药水系列——不错！实际上——”他翻了翻她的试卷，“全对！谁是荷米恩。格林佐？” 　　荷米恩战抖着举起手。 　“非常好！”罗克哈特笑着说。“做得非常好！给格林芬顿加十分！好了，咱们转入正题……” 　　他弯腰在书桌下把一个用布盖着的大笼子提了出来。 　　“现在——我得警告一下大家！我的职责就是让你们了解巫术界最恶毒的生物，好让你们以后有个心理准备。现在我给你们看的可能是你们从来没看过的最恐怖的东西。但是大家不要怕，只要有我在这，就不会出什么问题。我要求大家保持镇静，不要惊慌。” 　　哈利把头伸出了他围成的书堆，想好好看看究竟是什么东西。 　　罗克哈特一只手放到笼子的布上。达恩和谢默斯早就止住了笑。前排的尼维尔吓得畏缩在椅子的一角。 　　“我得让你们保证看到了不能叫出声来。”罗克哈特低声说道，“因为那样可能会激怒它们。” 　　登时，大家都屏住了呼吸，罗克哈特一下子把布揭开。 　　“对了，”他表情丰富地说。“刚捉到的康沃尔郡的小精灵。” 　　谢默斯。芬尼更忍不住笑了起来。这连罗克哈特也不会误认为是恐怖的叫声。 　　“怎么？”他微笑着说。 　　“啊，他们不会——他们不是——非常的危险吧？”谢默斯笑得哽住了。 　　“你可不要这么早下结论！”罗克哈特说，在谢默斯脸前生气地摇动着手指。 　　“这些小家伙可是非常恶毒，聪明和可怕的！” 　　这些小精灵全身闪着兰色的电光，大概八英尺高，脸儿尖尖，嗓门细细的。在布被揭开后，在笼子里，他们开始四处乱冲乱撞，把铁杆撞得喀卡喀卡的响，还向坐得比较近的人做鬼脸。 　　“好吧。”罗克哈特大声说道，“我们来瞧瞧你怎么来对付他们。” 　　接着他把笼盖打开。 　　这好像打开了潘多拉的盒子。小精灵像火箭一样地四散奔逃。 　　其中两个拉着尼维尔的耳朵，把他提在半空中。还有几个撞出了窗户，后排的人被碎玻璃撒了一身。其余的继续有效地破坏着教室，这比一头横冲直撞的犀牛的破坏力还强。他们拿起墨水瓶，四处地泼洒。撕碎课本，试卷，把墙上的画也撕个精光。把垃圾箩整个倒放，抓起书包和课本就往窗外扔去；几分钟以内，半个班的学生都藏在桌子底下，尼维尔则被吊到天花板上的技状的灯上。 　　“来吧，把他们给制服啊，逮着他们啊，他们只不过是小精灵……”罗克哈特大喊道。 　　他卷起衣袖，挥动着魔杖，大叫道：“巴巴基。拍拍那米！” 　　但是这完全不管用：一个精灵抓起罗克哈特的魔杖扔出了窗户。 　　罗克哈特咽了一口口水，也躲到了桌子底下。刚好避过尼维尔的一撞，在数秒后，他随着吊灯掉了下来。 　　下课铃响了，大家疯狂地挤向门口。罗克哈特镇静地站了起来，看到哈利、罗恩和荷米恩，他们几乎来到门口了。“你们三个帮帮忙把这些精灵全弄回笼子里。” 　　说完，他一个箭步走过他们身边然后关上了门。 　　“你还相信他？”罗恩吼叫着，一个精灵狠狠地咬住了他的耳朵。 　　“他只是让我们实际练习一下。”荷米恩说道，用神奇胶咒把两只精灵固定住，然后把他们关回笼子里。 　　“实践经验？”哈利说着，他试图抓着一只想他吐舌头的四处活蹦乱跳的精灵。 　　“荷米恩，他根本不知道他自己在干什么。” 　　“胡说，”荷米恩说道。“你应该读过他的书吧——瞧瞧他干的那些神奇的事。” 　　“那只是他说他干过的！”罗恩咕哝着。 
Chapter 7 Mudbloods And Murmurs
Harry spent a lot of time over the next few days dodging out of sight whenever he saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid was Colin Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Harry's schedule. Nothing seemed to give Colin a bigger thrill than to say, “All right, Harry?” six or seven times a day and hear, “Hello, Colin,” back, however exasperated Harry sounded when he said it.Hedwig was still angry with Harry about the disastrous car journey and Ron's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of Ron's hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes, creating a large, throbbing green boil where it had struck. So with one thing and another, Harry was quite glad to reach the weekend. He, Ron, and Hermione were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. Harry, however, was shaken awake several hours earlier than he would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.“Whassamatter?” said Harry groggily.“Quidditch practice!” said Wood. “Come on!”Harry squinted at the window. There was a thin mist hanging across the pink-and-gold sky. Now that he was awake, he couldn't understand how he could have slept through the racket the birds were making.“Oliver,” Harry croaked. “It's the crack of dawn.”“Exactly,” said Wood. He was a tall and burly sixth year and, at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. “It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go,” said Wood heartily. “None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year—”Yawning and shivering slightly, Harry climbed out of bed and tried to find his Quidditch robes.“Good man,” said Wood. “Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes.”When he'd found his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth, Harry scribbled a note to Ron explaining where he'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room, his Nimbus Two Thousand on his shoulder. He had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind him and Colin Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, his camera swinging madly around his neck and something clutched in his hand.“I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Harry! Look what I've got here! I've had it developed, I wanted to show you—”Harry looked bemusedly at the photograph Colin was brandishing under his nose.A moving, black-and-white Lockhart was tugging hard on an arm Harry recognized as his own. He was pleased to see that his photographic self was putting up a good fight and refusing to be dragged into view. As Harry watched, Lockhart gave up and slumped, Panting, against the white edge of the picture.“Will you sign it?” said Colin eagerly.“No,” said Harry flatly, glancing around to check that the room was really deserted. “Sorry, Colin, I'm in a hurry - Quidditch practice—”He climbed through the portrait hole.“Oh, wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!”Colin scrambled through the hole after him.“It'll be really boring,” Harry said quickly, but Colin ignored him, his face shining with excitement.“You were the youngest House player in a hundred years, weren't you, Harry? Weren't you?” said Colin, trotting alongside him. “You must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is?”Harry didn't know how to get rid of him. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.“I don't really understand Quidditch,” said Colin breathlessly. “Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly around trying to knock people off their brooms?”“Yes,” said Harry heavily, resigned to explaining the complicated rules of Quidditch. “They're called Bludgers. There are two Beaters on each team who carry clubs to beat the Bludgers away from their side. Fred and George Weasley are the Gryffindor Beaters.”“And what are the other balls for?” Colin asked, tripping down a couple of steps because he was gazing open-mouthed at Harry.“Well, the Quaffle - that's the biggish red one - is the one that scores goals. Three Chasers on each team throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through the goal posts at the end of the pitch - they're three long poles with hoops on the end.”“And the fourth ball—”“- is the Golden Snitch,” said Harry, “and it's very small, very fast, and difficult to catch. But that's what the Seeker's got to do, because a game of Quidditch doesn't end until the Snitch has been caught. And whichever team's Seeker gets the Snitch earns his team an extra hundred and fifty points.”“And you're the Gryffindor Seeker, aren't you?” said Colin in awe.“Yes,” said Harry as they left the castle and started across the dew-drenched grass. “And there's the Keeper, too. He guards the goal posts. That's it, really.”But Colin didn't stop questioning Harry all the way down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch field, and Harry only shook him off when he reached the changing rooms; Colin called after him in a piping voice, “I'll go and get a good seat, Harry!” and hurried off to the stands.The rest of the Gryffindor team were already in the changing room. Wood was the only person who looked truly awake. Fred and George Weasley were sitting, puffy-eyed and touslehaired, next to fourth year Alicia Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind her. Her fellow Chasers, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, were yawning side by side opposite them.“There you are, Harry, what kept you?” said Wood briskly. “Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference…”Wood was holding up a large diagram of a Quidditch field, on which were drawn many lines, arrows, and crosses in different colored inks. He took out his wand, tapped the board, and the arrows began to wiggle over the diagram like caterpillars. As Wood launched into a speech about his new tactics, Fred Weasley's head drooped right onto Alicia Spinnet's shoulder and he began to snore.The first board took nearly twenty minutes to explain, but there was another board under that, and a third under that one. Harry sank into a stupor as Wood droned on and on.“So,” said Wood, at long last, jerking Harry from a wistful fantasy about what he could be eating for breakfast at this very moment up at the castle. “Is that clear? Any questions?”“I've got a question, Oliver,” said George, who had woken with a start. “Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?”Wood wasn't pleased.“Now, listen here, you lot,” he said, glowering at them all. “We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately - owing to circumstances beyond our control—”Harry shifted guiltily in his seat. He had been unconscious in the hospital wing for the final match of the previous year, meaning that Gryffindor had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years.Wood took a moment to regain control of himself. Their last defeat was clearly still torturing him.“So this year, we train harder than ever before… Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!” Wood shouted, seizing his broomstick and leading the way out of the locker rooms. Stiff-legged and still yawning, his team followed.They had been in the locker room so long that the sun was up completely now, although remnants of mist hung over the grass in the stadium. As Harry walked onto the field, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting in the stands.“Aren't you finished yet?” called Ron incredulously.“Haven't even started,” said Harry, looking jealously at the toast and marmalade Ron and Hermione had brought out of the Great Hall. “Wood's been teaching us new moves.”He mounted his broomstick and kicked at the ground, soaring up into the air. The cool morning air whipped his face, waking him far more effectively than Wood's long talk. It felt wonderful to be back on the Quidditch field. He soared right around the stadium at full speed, racing Fred and George.“What's that funny clicking noise?” called Fred as they hurtled around the corner.Harry looked into the stands. Colin was sitting in one of the highest seats, his camera raised, taking picture after picture, the sound strangely magnified in the deserted stadium.“Look this way, Harry! This way!” he cried shrilly.“Who's that?” said Fred.“No idea,” Harry lied, putting on a spurt of speed that took him as far away as possible from Colin.“What's going on?” said Wood, frowning, as he skimmed through the air toward them. “Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program.”“He's in Gryffindor,” said Harry quickly.“And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver,” said George.“What makes you say that?” said Wood testily.“Because they're here in person,” said George, pointing.Several people in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.“I don't believe it!” Wood hissed in outrage. “I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!”Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed.“Flint!” Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!”Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, “Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.”Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.“But I booked the field!” said Wood, positively spitting with rage. “I booked it!”“Ah,” said Flint. “But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'. ”“You've got a new Seeker?” said Wood, distracted. “Where?”And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.“Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?” said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.“Funny you should mention Draco's father,” said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. “Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team.”All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors'noses in the early morning sun.“Very latest model. Only came out last month,” said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. “I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps” - he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives -” sweeps the board with them.”None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.“Oh, look,” said Flint. “A field invasion.”Ron and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on.“What's happening?” Ron asked Harry. “Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?”He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.“I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley,” said Malfoy, smugly. “Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team.Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.“Good, aren't they?” said Malfoy smoothly. “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.”The Slytherin team howled with laughter.“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in,” said Hermione sharply. ” They got in on pure talent.”The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” he spat.Harry knew at once that Malfoy had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, “How dare you!” and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, “You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!” and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoys face.A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.“Ron! Ron! Are you all right?” squealed Hermione.Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.“We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest,” said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.“What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?” Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.“Oooh,” said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. “Can you hold him still, Harry?”“Get out of the way, Colin!” said Harry angrily. He and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.“Nearly there, Ron,” said Hermione as the gamekeeper's cabin came into view. “You'll be all right in a minute - almost there—”They were within twenty feet of Hagrid's house when the front door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid who emerged. Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of palest mauve today, came striding out.“Quick, behind here,” Harry hissed, dragging Ron behind a nearby bush. Hermione followed, somewhat reluctantly.“It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!” Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. “If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one - I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!” And he strode away toward the castle.Harry waited until Lockhart was out of sight, then pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door. They knocked urgently.Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.“Bin woderin'when you'd come ter see me - come in, come in - thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again—”Harry and Hermione supported Ron over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as he lowered Ron into a chair.“Better out than in,” he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. “Get em all up, Ron.”“I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop,” said Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. “That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand—”Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Harry.“What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?” Harry asked, scratching Fang's ears.“Givin'me advice on gettin'kelpies out of a well,” growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. “Like I don'know. An'bangin'on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle.”It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts'teacher, and Harry looked at him in surprise. Hermione, however, said in a voice somewhat higher than usual, “I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job—”“He was the on'y man for the job,” said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed squelchily into his basin. “An'I mean the on'y one. Gettin'very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin'ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me,” said Hagrid, jerking his head at Ron. “Who was he tryin'ter curse?”“Malfoy called Hermione something - it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild.”“It was bad,” said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty. “Malfoy called her Mudblood,'Hagrid—”Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged.“He didn'!” he growled at Hermione.“He did,” she said. “But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course—”“It's about the most insulting thing he could think of,” gasped Ron, coming back up. “Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born - you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards - like Malfoy's family - who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood.” He gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, “I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom - he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up.”“An'they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can'do,” said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.“It's a disgusting thing to call someone,” said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. “Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out.”He retched and ducked out of sight again.“Well, I don'blame yeh fer tryin'ter curse him, Ron,” said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. “Bu'maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin'up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble.”Harry would have pointed out that trouble didn't come much worse than having slugs pouring out of your mouth, but he couldn't; Hagrid's treacle fudge had cemented his jaws together.“Harry,” said Hagrid abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. “Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin'out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?”Furious, Harry wrenched his teeth apart.“I have not been giving out signed photos,” he said hotly. “If Lockhart's still spreading that around—”But then he saw that Hagrid was laughing.“I'm on'y jokin',” he said, patting Harry genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. “I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn'need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'.”“Bet he didn't like that,” said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.“Don'think he did,” said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. “An'then I told him I'd never read one o'his books an'he decided ter go. Treacle fudge, Ron?” he added as Ron reappeared.“No thanks,” said Ron weakly. “Better not risk it.”“Come an'see what I've bin growin',” said Hagrid as Harry and Hermione finished the last of their tea.In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Harry had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder.“Gettin'on well, aren't they?” said Hagrid happily. “Fer the Halloween feast… should be big enough by then.”“What've you been feeding them?” said Harry.Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone.“Well, I've bin givin'them - you know - a bit o'help—”Harry noticed Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella leaning against the back wall of the cabin. Harry had had reason to believe before now that this umbrella was not all it looked; in fact, he had the strong impression that Hagrid's old school wand was concealed inside it. Hagrid wasn't supposed to use magic. He had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, but Harry had never found out why - any mention of the matter and Hagrid would clear his throat loudly and become mysteriously deaf until the subject was changed.“An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?” said Hermione, halfway between disapproval and amusement. “Well, you've done a good job on them.”“That's what yer little sister said,” said Hagrid, nodding at Ron. “Met her jus'yesterday.” Hagrid looked sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. “Said she was jus'lookin'round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin'she might run inter someone else at my house.” He winked at Harry. “If yeh ask me, she wouldn'say no ter a signed—”“Oh, shut up,” said Harry. Ron snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs.“Watch it!” Hagrid roared, pulling Ron away from his precious pumpkins.It was nearly lunchtime and as Harry had only had one bit of treacle fudge since dawn, he was keen to go back to school to eat. They said good-bye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two very small slugs.They had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, “There you are, Potter - Weasley.” Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. “You will both do your detentions this evening.”“What're we doing, Professor?” said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.“You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch,” said Professor McGonagall. “And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease.”Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.“And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail,” said Professor McGonagall.“Oh n- Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?” said Harry desperately.“Certainly not,” said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. “Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you.”Harry and Ron slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hermione behind them, wearing a well-you-did-break-school-rules sort of expression. Harry didn't enjoy his shepherd's pie as much as he'd thought. Both he and Ron felt they'd got the worse deal.“Filch'll have me there all night,” said Ron heavily. “No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning.”“I'd swap anytime,” said Harry hollowly. “I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail… he'll be a nightmare…”Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office. He gritted his teeth and knocked.The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him.“Ah, here's the scalawag!” he said. “Come in, Harry, come in—”Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart. He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.“You can address the envelopes!” Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat.“This first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her - huge fan of mine—”The minutes snailed by. Harry let Lockhart's voice wash over him, occasionally saying, “Mmm” and “Right” and “Yeah.” Now and then he caught a phrase like, “Fame's a fickle friend, Harry,” or “Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that.”The candles burned lower and lower, making the light dance over the many moving faces of Lockhart watching him. Harry moved his aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope, writing out Veronica Smethley's address. It must be nearly time to leave , Harry thought miserably, please let it be nearly time…And then he heard something - something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's prattle about his fans.It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.“Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…”Harry gave a huge jump and a large lilac blot appeared on Veronica Smethley's street.“What?” he said loudly.“I know!” said Lockhart. “Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all records!”“No,” said Harry frantically. “That voice!”“Sorry?” said Lockhart, looking puzzled. “What voice?”“That - that voice that said - didn't you hear it?”Lockhart was looking at Harry in high astonishment.“What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott - look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! I'd never have believed it - the time's flown, hasn't it?”Harry didn't answer. He was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for Lockhart telling him he mustn't expect a treat like this every time he got detention. Feeling dazed, Harry left.It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. Harry went straight up to the dormitory. Ron wasn't back yet. Harry pulled on his pajamas, got into bed, and waited. Half an hour later, Ron arrived, nursing his right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room.“My muscles have all seized up,” he groaned, sinking on his bed. “Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied. And then I had another slug attack all over a Special Award for Services to the School. Took ages to get the slime off… How was it with Lockhart?”Keeping his voice low so as not to wake Neville, Dean, and Seamus, Harry told Ron exactly what he had heard.“And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?” said Ron. Harry could see him frowning in the moonlight. “D'you think he was lying? But I don't get it - even someone invisible would've had to open the door.”“I know,” said Harry, lying back in his four-poster and staring at the canopy above him. “I don't get it either.”
    在往后的几天，哈利在走廊过道上一看到罗克哈特就赶紧绕道躲开。但是柯林。 　　格雷锐却很难避得掉，他好像把哈利的课程安排都记在脑子里了。每次见面，柯林总会恭敬而崇拜他对他说：“你好啊，哈利。”一天得回答六七次“柯林，好啊”，哈利觉得厌烦死了。 　　海维对上次的飞车历险，还耿耿于怀。它被狠狠地摔下来并大大地吓了一跳。 　　罗恩的魔杖还是修不好，不时地出差错。星期五的那天早上，它在罗恩练习施咒时突然飞了出去，箭一般地撞在弗立卫特老教授的眉心处，弄出了一个拱起的瘀黑色的大包子。所以，在这一桩桩不那么顺意的事情的伴随下，哈利对周末的来临还是很高兴的。他、罗恩和荷米恩打算在星期六早上去探望哈格力。但哈利一大清早就被奥立弗。伍德——快迪斯球队的队长给叫醒了。 　　“干——干什么？”哈利含混不清地咕哝着。 　　“快迪斯球练习时间！”伍德说道，“快点下来吧！” 　　哈利朝窗户外斜眼望去。粉红而金黄的天空中弥漫着一层薄雾。现在他清醒了，但是不明白自己为什么会在鸟儿卿卿喳喳的吵闹声中还能继续睡下去。 　　“奥立弗，”哈利发牢骚说，“现在天刚刚亮。” 　　“对啊，”伍德说道，“咱们十五分钟后在球场见面。” 　　他找到了那件猩红色的队服，披上大衣免得着凉。他快手快脚地写下一张便条给罗恩，告诉他去哪了，然后就扛着他的灵光2000扫帚下了旋转楼梯来到大堂。差不多来到肖像前时，他背后传来一阵脚步声，原来是柯林从楼梯上冲了下来，脖子上的照相机一晃一晃的，手里还拿着些什么。 　　“我听到有人在楼梯下喊你的名字，于是我就跑了下来了，啊，哈利，你看，这是我冲洗出来的相片——” 　　哈利看着柯林在他鼻子底下挥动着相片，呆住了。 　　罗克哈特清晰地出现在活动相片中，他正拖着哈利的手，想把他从相片里看不见的一角拖出来。哈利看着相片，对自己在相片上坚持不露面的表现非常满意。过了一会，相片中的罗克哈特放弃了这一举动，他在垂头丧气地独自喘着气，这时相片中的哈利已经跑掉了。 　　“你能不能签个名？”柯林热切地问。 　　“不能，”哈利直截了当地说，左右环顾着大堂确保没有人了，然后说，“对不起，柯林，但我正赶时间——快迪斯球的练习。” 　　他钻身爬出胖大婶肖像的小门。 　　“啊，等等我！我从来没看过快迪斯球赛！” 　　柯林匆忙地跟着他爬了出去。 　　“很闷的。”哈利马上说，但是柯林一脸兴奋——“你可是学院一百年以来最小的队员，是吧？”柯林一边在他身边小跑，一边说。“你真聪明。我可不会飞。 　　那容不容易学？这是你的扫帚吧？是不是这儿最好的？” 　　他一直喋喋不休地说着话。哈利真不知道怎么才能摆脱掉他。 　　“其实我不大明白快迪斯球赛规则，”柯林气喘吁吁地说。“是不是一共有四个球？其中有两个用来把对方打落扫帚啊？” 　　“是的，”哈利沉重地说，无可奈何地向柯林解释快迪斯球复杂的规则。“他们叫做布鲁佐球。每队有两个击球手，他们负责把飞过来身边的布鲁佐球打落。弗来德和乔治。威斯里是格林芬顿的击球手。” 　　“那么其他的两个球是怎么用的？”他张大了嘴巴看着哈利，一不留神，绊了一下。 　　“噢，大个的红色的那个叫可尔夫球，那个是得分球。每队的三个攻球手相互传球，把它送到球场另一端的大门——那是由三根长杆围成的，顶端有个球篮。” 　　“那第四个球——” 　　“——叫史尼斯球，”哈利说道。“这球很小，而且速度极快，很难逮到。但这就是搜索者的任务了。如果这个球没被逮住，球赛就不会结束。哪个队逮住了，就可以加上一百五十分。” 　　“你是格林芬顿的搜索者吧？”柯林崇敬地说。 　　“是的，”哈利走出了城堡来到一片沾满露水的草地上。“还有守门员，他负责看好球篮。就是这样子了。” 　　但是柯林一路上都停不了嘴地问这问那，直到哈利走进球场的换衣间才把柯林甩掉。柯林在身后尖叫：“我去占一个好位置，哈利！”说完就跑上了观众席。 　　格林芬顿的其他队员都集中到换衣间了。看起来，只有伍德一个人是真正睡醒了。弗来德和乔治坐在那，眼睛肿肿的，头发乱蓬蓬的。旁边坐着四年级的艾丽斯亚，她好像在对着墙壁不断地点头。 　　她的逐球队友，凯蒂和安格莉娜靠坐在一起，也打着哈欠。 　　“你来了，哈利，怎么这么久？”伍德轻快地说。“现在，我想在进入训练场前，先向大家讲一下我在这个假期里修订的最新训练计划，我想这会让我们的效率加快……” 　　伍德举起一张快迪斯的球场平面图，上面用不同颜色的墨水笔划了许多直线、箭头和交叉。他拿起魔杖在图上指指点点，沿着箭头像毛毛虫似的滑上滑下。正当伍德在长篇大论地阐述他的新战术时，弗来德的头垂到了艾丽斯亚的肩膀上并且开始打起鼾来。 　　第一张图他足足讲了差不多叨分钟，但是在第一张下面还有一张，第二张下还有一张。听着伍德像蜜蜂似的低沉的声音，哈利终于倒在一旁，睡着了。 　　“那么最后，”伍德说，这句话把哈利从睡梦中拉了回来，“大家都清楚了吗？ 　　有什么问题吗产“我有个问题，奥立弗，”乔治刚刚醒来，问道。“为什么你不能在昨天我们都清醒的时候把计划告诉我们呢？” 　　显然，伍德很不高兴。 　　“现在，你们听着，”他生气地望着他们，“本来我们可以赢得去年的快迪斯赛冠军的。我们肯定是实力最强的队伍。但是很不幸，由于种种无法预料的因素……” 　　哈利坐在椅子上羞愧地低下了头。去年决赛的时候，他正躺在医院的病床上昏迷不醒，使格林芬顿队少了一个队员，酿成了学院三百年来最惨痛的失败。 　　过了一会，伍德平静了下来。很明显，他对去年队伍的失败还是耿耿于怀。 　　“那么，今年，我们得更加努力地训练……好了，咱们把新的战术练习一下！” 　　伍德拿起扫帚，一马当先地领着大家走出了换衣室。他的队友们打着哈欠跟着出去。 　　他们在换衣室肯定呆了很久，现在的太阳已经升得很高了，不过雾气还是笼罩着球场。哈利走上球场时，看到罗恩和荷米恩坐在观众席上。 　　“你训练完了吧？‘罗恩怀疑地问道。 　　“还没开始呢！”哈利羡慕地看着罗恩和荷米恩手上的烤面包和果酱。“伍德在教我们新的作战方案。” 　　他骑上他的扫帚，一踏地面飞上了天空。冷冷的晨风轻抚着脸庞，哈利一下子清醒过来，这可比伍德的大道理更容易使人清醒。哈利回到快迪斯球场，他跟在弗来德和乔治后面，绕着球场飞起来。 　　“有没有听到‘卡喀，卡塔’的怪声音？”他们飞过一个角落时，弗来德大声说道。 　　哈利朝观众席上一瞧。原来是柯林坐到最高的一排上，举起照相机，拼命地按着快门，在寂静的球场里，这声音显得尤为刺耳。 　　“看这儿，哈利，这里！”他兴奋的尖叫道。 　　“那是谁？”弗来德不明白地问。 　　“我也不知道。”哈利撒了个小谎。他加速飞离了柯林。 　　“这是怎么一回事啊？”伍德皱着眉头在他们身边飞过。“这个一年级的在这拍相片干什么？我可不喜欢这样。他有可能是史林德林的小间谍，想了解我们的新战术。” 　　“他是格林芬顿学院的。”哈利急忙说。 　　“史林德林学院不需要派间谍来，奥立弗。”乔治说道。 　　“怎么这样说话？”伍德不明白了。 　　“因为他们自个来了。”乔治指着一边说。 　　几个穿着绿色球衣，扛着扫帚的人走了进球场。 　　“我不相信！”伍德生气的低声说道。“今天的场地我已经预定了，咱们去看看是怎么一回事。” 　　伍德箭一般地冲了下来，重重地落在地上，有点脚步不稳地下了扫帚。哈利，弗来德和乔治紧跟着。 　　“史林斯！”伍德朝着史林德林大喊。“这可是我们的训练时间！ 　　我们在进行特别练习，你们不许来看！“马库斯。史林斯个儿比伍德还高。他一脸阴险地回答道：”这里地方大得很啊，伍德。” 　　安格莉娜，艾丽斯亚和凯蒂也走了过来。史林德林队里没有女队员。他们肩并肩地站在格林芬顿的队员面前，斜视着伍德。 　　“可我是预定了这个场的！”伍德显然发火了。“我一早就预定下来的。” 　　“啊，”史林斯说，“但我有史纳皮教授的特批条子。”说着，他从口袋里掏出一张纸条。纸条上写着：“我，史纳皮教授，鉴于训练新的队员——搜索者的需要，特许更林德林队今天在快迪斯球场练习。 　　“你们找到了新的搜索者？”伍德的注意力被分散了。“在哪？” 　　在六个高大的身影后走出第七个人来，他个儿矮些，尖尖的苍白的脸上堆着虚伪的笑容。他就是杰高。马尔夫。 　　“你就是露布斯。马尔夫的儿子？”弗来德厌恶地望着马尔夫说。 　　“很奇怪你为什么会提起杰高的老爸啊，”史林斯说着，他们的队员们脸上绽放着笑容。“让我给你们看看他慷慨地给史林德林队送来的礼物吧。” 　　他们七个一起拿出了扫帚。七把擦得蹬亮的崭新的扫帚，一组金色的大字在早上阳光的映衬下闪闪发亮：“灵光2000”展现在格林芬顿队员的眼前。 　　“这是最新的款式。上个月才有得买。”史林斯随意地一边说，一边用手弹去柄端的灰尘。 　　“我想这比灵光2000要快很多，比起‘极速’来说嘛，”他朝弗来德和乔治笑了笑，他们手里紧紧地握着“极速”第五代。“就实在差得太远了！” 　　一时间，格林芬顿队里没人作声。马尔夫假笑得越来越厉害，把冷酷的眼睛挤成了一条线。 　　“看，”史林斯说，“又来两个占球场的。” 　　罗恩和荷米恩穿过草地走了过来，看看发生了什么事。 　　“干嘛了？”罗恩问哈利。“为什么不练习了？他在这干什么？” 　　他盯着马尔夫，马尔夫穿着一身史林德林的球衣。 　　“我是史林德林新的搜索者，威斯里，”马尔夫洋洋得意地说。 　　“大家都在欣赏我爸给队里买的新扫帚呢！” 　　罗恩看着眼前七只新簇簇的扫帚，张大了嘴巴忘了说话。 　　“不错吧？”马尔夫流利地说，“也许你们格林芬顿队可以去凑些钱买些新的扫帚。那么你们的这些‘极速’产品可以买给博物馆当展览品了。” 　　史林德林队里爆发出一阵狂笑。 　　“至少格林芬顿队不用靠道具来取胜，”荷米恩反驳道，“他们有真实的本领。” 　　马尔夫脸上得意的表情消失了。 　　“没有人征求你的意见呢。你这个马尼血统的人。”他生气的骂道。 　　哈利已经意识到马尔夫的话会引起一阵骚动。史林斯一步走到马尔夫前面，挡住向他扑来的乔治和弗来德。艾丽斯亚尖叫着：“你怎么敢这样说！”罗恩把手伸进了魔袍拿出魔杖，口中说道：“你会后悔的！”然后把魔杖指向了史林斯胳膊底下的马尔夫。 　　“绑”的一声巨响回荡在球场上，一簇绿光在魔杖的另一端急射而出，打在罗恩的肚子上，罗恩立刻直直地向后跌去，坐在了草地上。 　　“罗恩，罗恩！你没事吧？”荷米恩尖叫着。 　　罗恩张大嘴巴想说话，但是一句话也说不出来。他用力地咳了一下，几条鼻涕虫从他的嘴里掉了下来，跌落在大腿上。 　　史林德林队笑得差点喘不过气。弗格特靠着崭新的扫帚，身子几乎弯成了弓型。 　　马尔夫仰面朝天地趴在地上，两只手猛捶着草地。 　　格林芬顿的人在罗思身旁围了个圈，罗恩口里不断的喷出肥胖的亮晶晶的鼻涕虫，没有人敢上前扶他。 　　“我们最好把他送到哈格力那吧，那儿最近了。”哈利对荷米恩说，然后扶起罗恩拉着他走。 　　“发生什么事了，哈利？发生什么事了？他是不是病了？你可以治好他吧？” 　　柯林从观众席上跑了下来，在他们身边跑来跳去的。这时，罗恩张大了嘴巴，一大堆的鼻涕虫掉落在他胸前。 　　“啊，啊，”柯林赶忙举起照相机说，“哈利，能不能把他扶稳？” 　　“走开，柯林！”哈利生气地说。他和荷术恩扶着罗恩走出了球场，往森林边上走了过去。 　　“快到了，罗恩，”荷米思说，他们已经可以看到哈格力的小屋了。 　　“很快就到了，坚持住。” 　　走到离屋子还有二十英尺的地方，门突然开了，一个人走了出来，但这不是哈格力，而是吉德洛。罗克哈特。今天他穿了一件钱紫色的长袍，正大踏步地走了出来。 　　“快，躲在这，”哈利把罗恩拽到附近的一棵灌木后，低声说道。 　　荷米恩也只好不大情愿地跟着。 　　“如果你知道自己在干什么就行了！”罗克哈特大声地对着哈格力说。“如果你要我帮忙，你知道在哪能找到我的！我把我的一本书送给你——我真的非常惊奇为什么你连一本我的书都没有。我今天晚上签上名字，找人送过来给你。好了，再见！”说完，他大踏步地往城堡走去。哈利一直等到罗克哈特走远了才把罗恩从树丛里拉出来。他们着急地拍着门。 　　哈格力脾气暴躁地出现在门口。但是当他看到是谁来了后，表情来了个180度的转弯。 　　“我还一直在想为什么这么久还不来看我呢——进来，进来吧——我还以为又是那个罗克哈特教授呢！” 　　哈利和荷米恩扶着罗恩跨过了门槛，走进屋里。在屋子的一角放着一张巨大无比的床，另一角炉火在欢快地麻里啪啦地跳着舞。 　　哈利把罗恩扶到一张椅子坐下，急急忙忙地向哈格力讲述了刚才发生的事情。 　　哈格力好像对不断下滑出来的鼻涕虫没有感到什么不安。 　　“咱们最好到外面去吧，”他欢快地说着，把一只大铜盆放在了罗恩面前。 　　“把他们全吐出来吧！” 　　“我真不知道除了等他吐完之外，还能有什么办法，”荷米恩看着罗恩弯腰伸向脸盘，着急地说，“有是有一个解除这个魔咒的咒语，但是这根魔杖又是断的……” 　　哈格力匆匆忙忙地去给他们泡茶。他的大猎狗“弗兰”正坐在哈利旁边，口水淌了他一身。 　　“罗克哈特找你干什么啊，哈格力严哈利抓着”弗兰“的耳朵说。 　　“给我能把水鬼赶出水井的秘诀，”哈格力一面吼着，一面把桌子上的掉了一半毛的公鸡给扫到地上，把茶壶放了上去。“以为我什么都不知道。还在我面前吹嘘他如何打败那些女妖精的，哼，要是他有一句话是真的，我就把这个水瓶给吞下去。” 　　哈格力极少批评霍格瓦彻的教授的，哈利惊奇地望着他。荷米恩用比平时高出八度的声音说：“我想你对他不大公正了。丹伯多教授一直认为他是最胜任这份工作的……” 　　“只有他申请这份工作。”哈格力说，递给他们一碟蜜糖糕。罗恩压着咳嗽声，不断地往盆子里呕吐。 　　“我是说就只有他一个人。现在找黑巫术防卫课的老师可难了。 　　别人都认为这会导致运气不好所以都不愿意干。没人能干得长。好了，现在告诉我，“哈格力把头转向罗恩，”你想诅咒谁？” 　　“马尔夫骂了荷米恩，那句话很坏，很坏，所以大家都很生气。” 　　“是很坏，”罗恩声音嘶哑地说，他抬起头来，脸色苍白而且满脸是汗。“马尔夫说她是‘马尼血统’，哈格力——” 　　罗恩低下头，又往盆子里吐了一轮虫子。哈格力气极了。 　　“他居然这样说！”他向荷米恩吼叫着说。 　　“他是这样说的，”她说，“但是我不知道这具体指什么，但是肯定是不好的东西。” 　　“这可是他能想到的最恶毒的话，”罗恩喘着气，再次抬起头来，“马尼血统是诅咒马格人出身的人的话，——也就是父母不是巫师的人。现在有些巫师——像马尔夫一家——他们觉得因为他血统纯正所以高人一等，瞧不起别人。”他打了个嗝，一条虫子掉落在他的手上，他一把抓过来扔到盆子里。他继续说道，“我是说，我们都知道血统根本就没有什么意义。你看看尼维尔——他是纯血统的，但是连大锅都拿不稳。” 　　“而且他们的咒语我们的荷米恩都会。”哈格力自豪地说，荷米恩脸上泛起了一片红晕。 　　“骂人可是非常不好的事，”罗恩说着用一只颤抖的手摸了摸沾满汗水的额头。 　　“卑贱的血统，明白了吧？这可不对。现在几乎所有的巫师都只有一半纯正血统。 　　如果我们不跟马格人通婚的话，我们会灭绝的，” 　　他又低下头对着盆子。 　　“罗恩，你没有后悔去诅咒他，”他的声音盖过了虫子落在盆子的响声。“不过，你是没诅咒中他，这也许倒是件好事。如果你真诅咒了，我肯定露布斯。马尔夫会跑来学校的。那时，你的麻烦可大了。” 　　哈利本来想指出更大的麻烦也大不过在嘴里不停地掉出鼻涕虫来，不过哈格力的蜜制糖大妃糖把他的牙齿都给粘住了。 　　“哈利，”哈格力好像突然想起了什么似的说，“该跟你聊聊了。 　　我听说你在派签名相片，为什么不给我一张？” 　　哈利气愤地把牙关撑开了。 　　“我从来没派过什么签名相片，”他生气地受到，“如果罗克哈特是这样说——” 　　但是他看到哈格力在大笑。 　　“我不过跟你在开玩笑，”然后轻轻地拍着哈利的背部。哈利的脸一下子撞到了桌子上。“我知道你不会这样做的。我告诉罗克哈特你根本不需要那样干。虽然他到处张扬，可你还是比他出名多了。” 　　“我敢保证他不会爱听这话。”哈利坐了起来，揉了揉下巴。 　　“我也知道他不喜欢的，”哈格力两眼发亮了。“然后我告诉他，他的书我一本都没看过，于是他就决定要走了。罗恩，要不要蜜制太妃糖？”他看到罗恩抬起头，问道。 　　“不，谢谢。”罗恩虚弱地答。“我可不想冒这个险。” 　　“过来看看我种了什么。”看到哈利和荷米恩喝完茶，哈格力说道。 　　在屋后的一小块菜地上，哈利看到十二只非常大的南瓜。每个都有大岩石一样的大小。 　　“怎么样，长的还不错吧？”哈格力高兴地说道。“准备在万圣节的晚宴上用的……到那时还会长得更大。” 　　“你用什么肥料的？”哈利问道。 　　哈格力四周看了看，确保没有其他的人了，才说：“呵，我一直在给他们——你知道了——小小的帮助。” 　　哈利看到一把粉红色的花伞斜靠在屋子的后墙上。哈利老早就怀疑这不是普通的一把伞了；实际上，他直觉地认为哈格力的魔杖就藏在里面。哈格力不能运用魔法，他上三年级的时候被开除了。哈利不知道为什么会这样——每次谈到这个，哈格力总会大声地清一清喉咙，然后转到另一个话题去了。 　　“是狂长咒语吧？”荷米恩略带责备略带惊奇地说道。“呵，你干得不错啊！” 　　“小妹妹也是这样说的，”哈格力向罗恩点头说。“我昨天看到她了。”哈格力侧着头看着哈利。“她说在这儿走走，可我猜她想在我屋子附近或许会碰上什么人……”他向哈利眨了眨眼睛。“我说啊，她肯定很想要一张签名相片的……” 　　“啊，不要再说了，”哈利说道。罗恩忍不住“扑味”一声笑了出来，登时，地面上被撒上了几条虫子。 　　“小心啊！”哈格力大叫了起来，把罗恩远远地拉离他那些宝贵的南瓜。 　　差不多午饭时间了，哈利从一大早到现在，只吃了一点蜜制太妃糖，所以他很想赶回学院吃饭。他们向哈格力道了别就往城堡走了回去。罗思还是不时的打嗝，不过现在只是一两条很小的虫子了。 　　他们刚来到大厅的人口，一把声音传了出来。“你们在这儿，波特、威斯里。” 　　麦康娜教授表情严肃地走向他们。“你们被安排在今天晚上留堂罚劳动。” 　　“我们干什么呢，教授？”罗恩紧张地强压着不打嗝。 　　“你到费驰管的奖杯室里擦银色奖杯，”麦康娜教授说，“不许用魔法，威斯里——得用油一个一个地把奖杯擦光亮。” 　　“至于你，波特，去帮罗克哈特教授回他的书迷的信。” 　　“啊，不要了吧——我不能去奖杯室擦奖杯吗？”哈利绝望地说。 　　“当然不行了，”麦康娜教授眉毛一扬，“罗克哈特教授特意叫你去的。你们两个记着，八点整准时到！”哈利和罗恩表情悲伤地走进大厅，荷米恩跟在后面，一副你确实违反了学校行为规范的神气。哈利对羊肉馅饼不大感兴趣了。 　　哈利和罗恩都觉得自己的处罚最痛苦了。 　　“费驰肯定要我留一整个晚上的，”罗恩沉重地说。“不用魔法！ 　　那间房子里起码有上百个奖杯。我可不擅长像马格人那样擦东西。”“我肯定随时会吐的，“哈利茫然地说。”我在杜史林家里有过足够的练习写过无数的信。帮罗克哈特回书迷信……天啊，我肯定会发噩梦的……” 　　周六下午眨眼就过去了。还差五分钟就到八点的时候，哈利拖着沉重的步子来到罗克哈特办公室的过道上。他一咬牙，举起手敲门。 　　门一下子就开了，罗克哈特在里面朝着他微微笑。 　　“啊，小懒鬼，终于来了！”他说。“来吧，哈利，进来吧！” 　　桌子上无数张罗克哈特的照片在烛光的映衬下，发出耀眼的光芒。他甚至在好几张上签了名。在他书桌上，还摆放着另外一大堆。 　　“你可以帮我写信封！”罗克哈特对哈利说，好像这是给他的莫大的恩惠。 　　“第一封是写给格拉蒂斯。古顿尼的，——上帝保信她——她可是我的忠实书迷。” 　　时间一分钟一分钟地爬走了。罗克哈特不停嘴地说啊，说啊，哈利只是间中用“唔，是的。”和“好的”来回答。他不时地听到一两句“不能太看重名誉，哈利。”或者是“名人就要有名人的风度，记着了。” 　　蜡烛越烧越低，在摇晃不定的烛影中，仿佛无数张罗克哈特的脸也在摇晃着，注视着哈利。当写到“韦罗尼卡。斯麦利”的信封时，哈利累得手都酸了，好像已经写了第一千个信封一样。应该差不多是时候走了吧，哈利暗自在想，时间快点过去吧…… 　　正在这时，他听到了什么声音——这个声音离这儿很远很远…… 　　有人在说话，这声音带着冷冰冰的恶毒，让人觉得毛骨惊然，心惊肉跳。 　　“来……来吧……让我把你撕开……把你咬碎……把你杀死……” 　　哈利跳了起来，“韦罗尼卡。斯麦利”这几个字被墨水弄糊了。 　　“什么？”他大叫道。 　　“我知道！”罗克哈特说。“连续六个月的最佳书的第一位！打破了记录！” 　　“不是，”哈利惊狂地说，“那把声音！” 　　“什么？”罗克哈特迷惑地说，“什么声音？” 　　“那——有人在说话——你没听见吗？” 　　罗克哈特惊奇地望着哈利。 　　“你究竟在说什么啊，哈利？是不是有点困了？天啊——你看都几点了！我们干了差不多四个小时了！我真不敢相信——时间过得可真快，是吧？” 　　哈利没有回答。他屏住呼吸，想再听清楚那把声音在说什么，但是除了罗克哈特在那喋喋不休地说他如何如何地照顾他，帮了他一个大忙，让他不用去干其他累人的劳动的话以外，就什么都听不到了。哈利走的时候，觉得头有点晕了。 　　夜深了，格林芬顿的大厅静悄悄的空无一人。哈利径直地跑上了宿舍。罗恩还没回来。哈利穿上睡衣躺在床上等他回来。半个小时以后，罗恩回来了。他揉着手臂，浑身散发着一股油光剂的味道走进了黑乎乎的宿舍。 　　“我的手疼死了，”他哀号着一屁股坐到了床上。“他让我抹了快迪斯杯十四次，十四次啊，他才算满意了。在擦学校特别服务杯时我又开始吐鼻涕虫，我花了好久才把那些粘粘的东西擦干净……跟罗克哈特一起，怎么样？” 　　哈利压低声音，以免吵醒尼维尔，达思和谢默斯，他跟罗思说了刚才听到的那把声音的事。 　　“罗克哈特说他听不到？”罗恩说，哈利在月光下，看到他皱起了眉头。“你不认为他在说谎吗？但是我不明白——就好像在说隐形人似的。” 　　“我知道，”哈利躺在床上，盯着蚊帐顶出神，“我也不明白。” 
Chapter 8 The Deathday Party
October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Oliver Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, however, was not dampened, which was why Harry was to be found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon a few days before Halloween, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud.Even aside from the rain and wind it hadn't been a happy practice session. Fred and George, who had been spying on the Slytherin team, had seen for themselves the speed of those new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. They reported that the Slytherin team was no more than seven greenish blurs, shooting through the air like missiles. As Harry squelched along the deserted corridor he came across somebody who looked just as preoccupied as he was. Nearly Headless Nick, the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, was staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, “…don't fulfill their requirements… half an inch, if that…”“Hello, Nick,” said Harry.“Hello, hello,” said Nearly Headless Nick, starting and looking round. He wore a dashing, plumed hat on his long curly hair, and a tunic with a ruff, which concealed the fact that his neck was almost completely severed. He was pale as smoke, and Harry could see right through him to the dark sky and torrential rain outside.“You look troubled, young Potter,” said Nick, folding a transparent letter as he spoke and tucking it inside his doublet.“So do you,” said Harry.“Ah,” Nearly Headless Nick waved an elegant hand, “a matter of no importance… It's not as though I really wanted to join… Thought I'd apply, but apparently I don't fulfill requirements’-”In spite of his airy tone, there was a look of great bitterness on his face.“But you would think, wouldn't you,” he erupted suddenly, pulling the letter back out of his pocket, “that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt?”“Oh - yes,” said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree.“I mean, nobody wishes more than I do that it had all been quick and clean, and my head had come off properly, I mean, it would have saved me a great deal of pain and ridicule. However -” Nearly Headless Nick shook his letter open and read furiously:“We can only accept huntsmen whose heads have parted company with their bodies. You will appreciate that it would be impossible otherwise for members to participate in hunt activities such as Horseback Head-Juggling and Head Polo. It is with the greatest regret, therefore, that I must inform you that you do not fulfill our requirements. With very best wishes, Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore.'”Fuming, Nearly Headless Nick stuffed the letter away.“Half an inch of skin and sinew holding my neck on, Harry! Most people would think that's good and beheaded, but oh, no, it's not enough for Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore.”Nearly Headless Nick took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, “So - what's bothering you? Anything I can do?”“No,” said Harry. “Not unless you know where we can get seven free Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones for our match against Sly-”The rest of Harry's sentence was drowned out by a high-pitched mewling from somewhere near his ankles. He looked down and found himself gazing into a pair of lamp-like yellow eyes. It was Mrs. Norris, the skeletal gray cat who was used by the caretaker, Argus Filch, as a sort of deputy in his endless battle against students.“You'd better get out of here, Harry,” said Nick quickly. “Filch isn't in a good mood - he's got the flu and some third years accidentally plastered frog brains all over the ceiling in dungeon five. He's been cleaning all morning, and if he sees you dripping mud all over the place—”“Right,” said Harry, backing away from the accusing stare of Mrs. Norris, but not quickly enough. Drawn to the spot by the mysterious power that seemed to connect him with his foul cat, Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to Harry's right, wheezing and looking wildly about for the rule-breaker. There was a thick tartan scarf bound around his head, and his nose was unusually purple.“Filth!” he shouted, his jowls aquiver, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from Harry's Quidditch robes. “Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it, I tell you! Follow me, Potter!”So Harry waved a gloomy good-bye to Nearly Headless Nick and followed Filch back downstairs, doubling the number of muddy footprints on the floor. Harry had never been inside Filch's office before; it was a place most students avoided. The room was dingy and windowless, lit by a single oil lamp dangling from the low ceiling. A faint smell of fried fish lingered about the place. Wooden filing cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, Harry could see that they contained details of every pupil Filch had ever punished. Fred and George Weasley had an entire drawer to themselves. A highly polished collection of chains and manacles hung on the wall behind Filch's desk. It was common knowledge that he was always begging Dumbledore to let him suspend students by their ankles from the ceiling.Filch grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and began shuffling around looking for parchment.“Dung,” he muttered furiously, “great sizzling dragon bogies… frog brains… rat intestines… I've had enough of it… make an example… where's the form… yes…”He retrieved a large roll of parchment from his desk drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot.“Name… Harry Potter. Crime…”“It was only a bit of mud!” said Harry.“It's only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!” shouted Filch, a drip shivering unpleasantly at the end of his bulbous nose. ” Crime… befouling the castle… suggested sentence…”Dabbing at his streaming nose, Filch squinted unpleasantly at Harry who waited with bated breath for his sentence to fall.But as Filch lowered his quill, there was a great BANG! on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle.“PEEVES!” Filch roared, flinging down his quill in a transport of rage. “I'll have you this time, I'll have you!”And without a backward glance at Harry, Filch ran flat-footed from the office, Mrs. Norris streaking alongside him.Peeves was the school poltergeist, a grinning, airborne menace who lived to cause havoc and distress. Harry didn't much like Peeves, but couldn't help feeling grateful for his timing. Hopefully, whatever Peeves had done (and it sounded as though he'd wrecked something very big this time) would distract Filch from Harry.Thinking that he should probably wait for Filch to come back, Harry sank into a moth-eaten chair next to the desk. There was only one thing on it apart from his half-completed form: a large, glossy, purple envelope with silver lettering on the front. With a quick glance at the door to check that Filch wasn't on his way back, Harry picked up the envelope and read:KwikspellA Correspondence Course in Beginners'Magic.Intrigued, Harry flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. More curly silver writing on the front page said:Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? Ever been taunted for your woeful wandwork?There is an answer!Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method!Madam Z. Nettles of Topsham writes:“I had no memory for incantations and my potions were a family joke! Now, after a Kwikspell course, I am the center of attention at parties and friends beg for the recipe of my Scintillation Solution!”Warlock D. J. Prod of Didsbury says:“My wife used to sneer at my feeble charms, but one month into your fabulous Kwikspell course and I succeeded in turning her into a yak! Thank you, Kwikspell!”Fascinated, Harry thumbed through the rest of the envelope's contents. Why on earth did Filch want a Kwikspell course? Did this mean he wasn't a proper wizard? Harry was just reading “Lesson One: Holding Your Wand (Some Useful Tips)” when shuffling footsteps outside told him Filch was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, Harry threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened.Filch was looking triumphant.“That vanishing cabinet was extremely valuable!” he was saying gleefully to Mrs. Norris. “We'll have Peeves out this time, my sweet—”His eyes fell on Harry and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope, which, Harry realized too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started.Filch's pasty face went brick red. Harry braced himself for a tidal wave of fury. Filch hobbled across to his desk, snatched up the envelope, and threw it into a drawer.“Have you - did you read -?” he sputtered.“No,” Harry lied quickly.Filch's knobbly hands were twisting together.“If I thought you'd read my private -not that it's mine - for a friend - be that as it may - however—”Harry was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping, a tic was going in one of his pouchy cheeks, and the tartan scarf didn't help.“Very well - go - and don't breathe a word - not that - however, if you didn't read - go now, I have to write up Peeves'report - go—”Amazed at his luck, Harry sped out of the office, up the corridor, and back upstairs. To escape from Filch's office without punishment was probably some kind of school record.“Harry! Harry! Did it work?”Nearly Headless Nick came gliding out of a classroom. Behind him, Harry could see the wreckage of a large black-and-gold cabinet that appeared to have been dropped from a great height.“I persuaded Peeves to crash it right over Filch's office,” said Nick eagerly. “Thought it might distract him—”“Was that you?” said Harry gratefully. “Yeah, it worked, I didn't even get detention. Thanks, Nick!”They set off up the corridor together. Nearly Headless Nick, Harry noticed, was still holding Sir Patrick's rejection letter…“I wish there was something I could do for you about the Headless Hunt,” Harry said. Nearly Headless Nick stopped in his tracks and Harry walked right through him. He wished he hadn't; it was like stepping through an icy shower.“But there is something you could do for me,” said Nick excitedly. “Harry - would I be asking too much - but no, you wouldn't want—”“What is it?” said Harry. “Well, this Halloween will be my five hundredth deathday,” said Nearly Headless Nick, drawing himself up and looking dignified.“Oh,” said Harry, not sure whether he should look sorry or happy about this. “Right.”“I'm holding a party down in one of the roomier dungeons. Friends will be coming from all over the country. It would be such an honor if you would attend. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger would be most welcome, too, of course - but I daresay you'd rather go to the school feast?” He watched Harry on tenterhooks.“No,” said Harry quickly, “I'll come—”“My dear boy! Harry Potter, at my deathday party! And -” he hesitated, looking excited “- do you think you could possibly mention to Sir Patrick how very frightening and impressive you find me?”“Of - of course,” said Harry.Nearly Headless Nick beamed at him.“A deathday party?” said Hermione keenly when Harry had changed at last and joined her and Ron in the common room. “I bet there aren't many living people who can say they've been to one of those - it'll be fascinating!”“Why would anyone want to celebrate the day they died?” said Ron, who was halfway through his Potions homework and grumpy. “Sounds dead depressing to me…”Rain was still lashing the windows, which were now inky black, but inside all looked bright and cheerful. The firelight glowed over the countless squashy armchairs where people sat reading, talking, doing homework or, in the case of Fred and George Weasley, trying to find out what would happen if you fed a Filibuster firework to a salamander. Fred had “rescued” the brilliant orange, fire-dwelling lizard from a Care of Magical Creatures class and it was now smouldering gently on a table surrounded by a knot of curious people.Harry was at the point of telling Ron and Hermione about Filch and the Kwikspell course when the salamander suddenly whizzed into the air, emitting loud sparks and bangs as it whirled wildly round the room. The sight of Percy bellowing himself hoarse at Fred and George, the spectacular display of tangerine stars showering from the salamander's mouth, and its escape into the fire, with accompanying explosions, drove both Filch and the Kwikspell envelope from Harry's mind.By the time Halloween arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the deathday party. The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.“A promise is a promise,” Hermione reminded Harry bossily. “You said you'd go to the deathday party.”So at seven o'clock, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked straight past the doorway to the packed Great Hall, which was glittering invitingly with gold plates and candles, and directed their steps instead toward the dungeons.The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick's party had been lined with candles, too, though the effect was far from cheerful: These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces. The temperature dropped with every step they took. As Harry shivered and drew his robes tightly around him, he heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard.“Is that supposed to be music?” Ron whispered. They turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.“My dear friends,” he said mournfully. “Welcome, welcome… so pleased you could come…”He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.It was an incredible sight. The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight-blue with a thousand more black candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.“Shall we have a look around?” Harry suggested, wanting to warm up his feet.“Careful not to walk through anyone,” said Ron nervously, and they set off around the edge of the dance floor. They passed a group of gloomy nuns, a ragged man wearing chains, and the Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. Harry wasn't surprised to see that the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains, was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts.“Oh, no,” said Hermione, stopping abruptly. “Turn back, turn back, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle—”“Who?” said Harry as they backtracked quickly.“She haunts one of the toilets in the girls'bathroom on the first floor,” said Hermione.“She haunts a toilet?”“Yes.It's been out-of-order all year because she keeps having tantrums and flooding the place. I never went in there anyway if I could avoid it; it's awful trying to have a pee with her wailing at you—”“Look, food!” said Ron.On the other side of the dungeon was a long table, also covered in black velvet. They approached it eagerly but next moment had stopped in their tracks, horrified. The smell was quite disgusting. Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome silver platters; cakes, burned charcoal-black, were heaped on salvers; there was a great maggoty haggis, a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold and, in pride of place, an enormous gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing forming the words,SIR NICHOLAS DE MIMSY-PORPINGTONDIED 31ST OCTOBER, 1492Harry watched, amazed, as a portly ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon.“Can you taste it if you walk though it?” Harry asked him.“Almost,” said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away.“I expect they've let it rot to give it a stronger flavor,” said Hermione knowledgeably, pinching her nose and leaning closer to look at the putrid haggis.“Can we move? I feel sick,” said Ron.They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them.“Hello, Peeves,” said Harry cautiously.Unlike the ghosts around them, Peeves the Poltergeist was the very reverse of pale and transparent. He was wearing a bright orange party hat, a revolving bow tie, and a broad grin on his wide, wicked face.“Nibbles?” he said sweetly, offering them a bowl of peanuts covered in fungus.“No thanks,” said Hermione.“Heard you talking about poor Myrtle,” said Peeves, his eyes dancing. ” Rude you was about poor Myrtle.” He took a deep breath and bellowed, “OY! MYRTLE!”“Oh, no, Peeves, don't tell her what I said, she'll be really upset,” Hermione whispered frantically. “I didn't mean it, I don't mind her - er, hello, Myrtle.”The squat ghost of a girl had glided over. She had the glummest face Harry had ever seen, half-hidden behind lank hair and thick, pearly spectacles.“What?” she said sulkily.“How are you, Myrtle?” said Hermione in a falsely bright voice. “It's nice to see you out of the toilet.”Myrtle sniffed.“Miss Granger was just talking about you -” said Peeves slyly in Myrtle's ear. “Just saying—”“Just saying - saying - how nice you look tonight,” said Hermione, glaring at Peeves.Myrtle eyed Hermione suspiciously.“You're making fun of me,” she said, silver tears welling rapidly in her small, see-through eyes.“No - honestly - didn't I just say how nice Myrtle's looking?” said Hermione, nudging Harry and Ron painfully in the ribs.“Oh, yeah—”“She did—”“Don't lie to me,” Myrtle gasped, tears now flooding down her face, while Peeves chuckled happily over her shoulder. “D'you think I don't know what people call me behind my back? Fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!”“You've forgotten pimply,” Peeves hissed in her ear.Moaning Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and fled from the dungeon. Peeves shot after her, pelting her with moldy peanuts, yelling, ” Pimply! Pimply! ”“Oh, dear,” said Hermione sadly.Nearly Headless Nick now drifted toward them through the crowd.“Enjoying yourselves?”“Oh, yes,” they lied.“Not a bad turnout,” said Nearly Headless Nick proudly. “The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent… It's nearly time for my speech, I'd better go and warn the orchestra…”The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.“Oh, here we go,” said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly.Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The assembly clapped wildly; Harry started to clap, too, but stopped quickly at the sight of Nick's face.The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he was blowing the horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.“Nick!” he roared. “How are you? Head still hanging in there?”He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.“Welcome, Patrick,” said Nick stiffly.“Live uns!” said Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Ron, and Hermione and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).“Very amusing,” said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.“Don't mind Nick!” shouted Sir Patrick's head from the floor. “Still upset we won't let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say - look at the fellow—”“I think,” said Harry hurriedly, at a meaningful look from Nick, “Nick's very - frightening and - er—”“Ha!” yelled Sir Patrick's head.“Bet he asked you to say that!”“If I could have everyone's attention, it's time for my speech!” said Nearly Headless Nick loudly, striding toward the podium and climbing into an icy blue spotlight.“My late lamented lords, ladies, and gentlemen, it is my great sorrow…”But nobody heard much more. Sir Patrick and the rest of the Headless Hunt had just started a game of Head Hockey and the crowd were turning to watch. Nearly Headless Nick tried vainly to recapture his audience, but gave up as Sir Patrick's head went sailing past him to loud cheers.Harry was very cold by now, not to mention hungry.“I can't stand much more of this,” Ron muttered, his teeth chattering, as the orchestra ground back into action and the ghosts swept back onto the dance floor.“Let's go,” Harry agreed.They backed toward the door, nodding and beaming at anyone who looked at them, and a minute later were hurrying back up the passageway full of black candles.“Pudding might not be finished yet,” said Ron hopefully, leading the way toward the steps to the entrance hall.And then Harry heard it.“… rip… tear… kill…”It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard in Lockhart's office.He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.“Harry, what're you -?”“It's that voice again - shut up a minute—”“… soo hungry… for so long…”“Listen!” said Harry urgently, and Ron and Hermione froze, watching him.“… kill… time to kill…”The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving away - moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward? Was it a phantom, to whom stone ceilings didn't matter?“This way,” he shouted, and he began to run, up the stairs, into the entrance hall. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor, Ron and Hermione clattering behind him.“Harry, what're we—”“SHH!”Harry strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: “… I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!”His stomach lurched—“It's going to kill someone!” he shouted, and ignoring Ron's and Hermione's bewildered faces, he ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps - Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ron and Hermione panting behind him, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.“Harry, what was that all about?” said Ron, wiping sweat off his face. “I couldn't hear anything…”But Hermione gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor.“Look! ”Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEENOPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE“What's that thing - hanging underneath?” said Ron, a slight quiver in his voice.As they edged nearer, Harry almost slipped - there was a large puddle of water on the floor; Ron and Hermione grabbed him, and they inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ron said, “Let's get out of here.”“Shouldn't we try and help -” Harry began awkwardly.“Trust me,” said Ron. “We don't want to be found here.”But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.Then someone shouted through the quiet.“Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!”It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.
十月来临了，冰冷潮湿的山风吹拂着整个城堡。波姆弗雷夫人城堡的医生，突然发现患上感冒的人越来越多了，使她忙得抽不出身来。于是她特意地研制了一味辣椒药水。虽然喝了这药水后，耳朵会连续几小时地喷出烟雾来，但是确是药到病除，非常灵验。金妮。 　　威斯里身子一向瘦弱，她哥哥伯希硬是逼她喝下了一些药水。之后的几小时她鲜红的头发下不断地冒出烟来，不明原由的人还以为她整个头都着火了。 　　一连几天，雨点像一颗颗子弹似的昼夜不停地打在城堡的窗户上。湖水涨了起来，花基的泥土被冲去了不少，整条路变得泥泞不堪。哈格力的南瓜在雨水的滋润下一个劲地疯长，全都长得像小花棚一般大小。但是奥立弗。伍德对快迪斯的训练热情没因为天气造成影响，这就是为什么哈利在万圣节前几天的一个风雨交加的周末傍晚，弄得浑身湿淋淋，满身泥泞的原因了。 　　即使在平时，练习快迪斯球也不是一件什么舒服的事。弗来德和乔治负责去侦探史林德林队，他们亲眼见识了灵光Zbol的厉害，回来报告说，速度是很快，但是史林德林不会运用战术，只会在空中像盲头苍蝇一样飞来飞去。 　　哈利走在空荡荡的过道上，沉思着。他发现另外有一个人也和他一样。心事重重。他是无头的尼克——格林芬顿的鬼魂，这时他悲哀地双眼直盯着窗外，口里喃喃地说：“……不合他们的要求……半英寸，如果……” 　　“你好，尼克。”哈利说道。 　　“你好，你好。”无头的尼克回答。他戴着一项浮华的羽毛帽子，长着长长的卷发，穿一件环领的长大衣，刚好盖住了他严重损伤的颈部，他像烟雾一样苍白透明，哈利几乎可以看到他身后的漆黑的天空和澎沱的大雨。 　“你看起来好像遇到了什么麻烦事吧，小波特？”尼克说着把一封透明的信塞进农服里。 　　“你也是吧。”哈利说道。 　　“啊，”无头尼克优雅地挥了挥手，“小事情而已……只不过我想参加……以为我会被录取的，可是来信说我不合要求。” 　　虽然他说得好像很轻松，但从脸上的表情看出，他很痛苦。 　　“本来你也会这样以为的，是吧？”他突然说，然后把信从口袋里取出来，“我被一把钝斧子连劈45下脖子，头才被砍了下来，这样应该符合要求了吧？” 　　“哦，是的。”哈利觉得他应该表示同意。 　　“我是说，那时，我多么盼望他能砍得又快又难，头可以一下子掉下来。我是说，这样我就不用挨这么多斧子，简直是活受罪。但是……”无头的尼克把信再次打开，愤恨地读道。 　　“我们只能接纳死时头和身体没有分开的猎手。你应该能理解即使你加入了我们的协会，你无法参加我们的马背魔法头术和水上头球的活动。因此，我只能很遗憾地通知你你不符合我们的要求。 　　此致，敬礼。德兰尼。勃德莫先生。“尼克怒气冲冲地把信再次塞回口袋中。 　　“我只有一丁点皮肉把我的头和身子连起来，哈利！大多数人都以为这样，可是不是这样的，至少对于德兰尼。勃德莫先生来说不是这样。” 　　无头的尼克深深吸了几口气，语气平缓下来。“那——你为什么烦心啊？我能不能帮上忙？” 　　“不用了，”哈利说。“除非你知道在哪里我们能搞到灵光20001……” 　　一阵尖声的猫叫把哈利的话盖过了。他低头一看，看到一双灯笼般的大眼睛在他的膝盖旁。这是诺丽丝夫人，管理员费驰的一只皮包骨的灰猫。在费驰长期地与学生作斗争的日子里，它算得上是一个得力的副手。 　　“你最好马上离开这里，哈利。”尼克急忙说。“费驰这几天心情不好。他得了感冒。一些三年级的学生在五号旁的天花板上抹了些青蛙脑浆，害得他清理了一上午，如果他看到你浑身泥泞的走在这里”知道了。“哈利不顾诺丽丝夫人带着责备的凝视，急忙拔腿往外跑去。但是太迟了。费弛好像与他的猫有某种神秘的感应一样，他披着一张毯子冲了出来，四处张望着寻找违规者。他头顶包着一块格子布，鼻子红得发紫。 　　“脏鬼！”他大叫道，脸颊兴奋得通红，眼睛盯着哈利的快迪斯球衣上淌下的泥泞。“到处都是脏东西！我可受够了！波特，跟我来！” 　　哈利神情暗淡地向尼克挥一挥再见，跟着费驰走下楼梯，地板上的脏脚印更多了。 　　哈利从来没进过费驰的办公室，这是大多学生不愿意进去的地方。房间里只有一盏油灯吊在天花板上，没有窗户，还伴随有一股煎鱼的味道。几个大木柜靠在墙边，那是用来装违反纪律的学生的档案的，里面详细地写明了谁干了什么坏事被处罚干什么。弗来德和乔治的档案就占了整整一个抽屉。一副闪亮的锁链和手铐就挂在费驰桌子的墙后面。学校人人都知道他经常恳求丹伯多校长允许他把学生倒挂在天花板上。 　　费驰取出一支羽毛笔，开始找羊皮纸。 　　“龙粪，”他一面气冲冲地说道，“那只喷火的怪物……青蛙脑浆……老鼠尿……我实在受够了……表格哪去了……在这……” 　　他在抽屉里取出一大卷羊皮纸，在桌面上铺平，把笔染了些墨水。 　　“姓名……哈利。波特。案件……” 　　“不过是一点点泥罢了！”哈利说。 　“对于你来说是这样，对于我来说，那可是又一个小时的清洁工作了！”费驰大叫道。一滴鼻水在他那球状的鼻孔处，摇晃了一下，掉了下来。“案件：弄脏城堡……建议处罚是……” 　　一面拿纸捂着鼻子，他一面斜眼打量着哈利。哈利屏住呼吸听着…… 　　费驰正要下笔写时，天花板上传来一声巨响，把煤油灯给震得一晃一晃的。 　　“皮维斯！”费驰怒吼着，摔下笔奔了出去。“我这次一定得抓住你，你可跑不掉了。” 　　费驰头也不回地一阵风似的冲出了办公室，诺丽丝夫人紧跟在后。 　　皮维斯是学校专门搞恶作剧的鬼，他天生就爱捣乱。哈利一向不大喜欢他，不过现在对他恶作剧的及时性感到很感激。无论皮维斯这回是干了什么（从声音判断，砸在天花板上的东西可不小），他暗暗祈祷费驰会忘了处罚自己。 　　哈利坐在费驰书桌前的那张椅子上等待费她回来。桌面上除了那张填了半张的表格，还有一个光滑的紫色信封，上面有些闪亮的银字。哈利向门口望了望，然后迅速的拿起信封。上面写着：“克拉咒语初学魔法者函授课程” 　　哈利感到很奇怪，于是打开信封把里面的羊皮纸抽了出来。里面的那张纸写着：“觉得与现代魔法脱节吗？发觉自己常找借口不练习简单的魔法吗？为自己可怜的巫术而不安吗？ 　　这就是你们所需要的答案！ 　　克拉咒语是一门全新的，快见效的，简单易学的课程。成千上万的巫师从这门课程得益不浅！ 　　托森的塞尼托太太写道：我对变身一窍不通，经常被家人笑话。在学习了克拉咒语后，我成为了晚会的中心人物，朋友们还求我要火花溶液的秘方。 　　得布里的华诺芙说道：过去，我妻子常常取笑我的咒语，可是学了您们的神奇的克拉课程一个月后，我成功地把她变成了一头牦牛！谢谢你，克拉咒语。“哈利很有兴趣地把信从头到尾看了一遍。究竟费驰为什么要这些课程呢？是不是说他不是一个正式的巫师呢？哈利正读着第一课”拿魔杖的正确方法“（一些有用的小秘诀）时，门外传来急促的脚步声，哈利知道费驰回来了。哈利马上把羊皮纸塞进信封。哈利刚把信封扔回书桌上，门就被打开了。 　　费弛一脸胜利的得意笑容。 　　“那个自动消失的衣柜可真有用！”他高兴地对着诺丽丝夫人说。 　　“我们这次可把皮维斯弄走掉了，我的宝贝。” 　　他的眼睛转向了哈利，然后转到了桌子上的尼克咒语的信封。 　　哈利意识到的时候已经太迟了，信封比刚才移动了起码两英尺。 　　费驰苍白的脸变成了砖红色。哈利准备好受一顿臭骂了。费驰脚步蹒跚地走到桌子前，一把抓起信封放进了抽屉里。 　　“你——你有没有——读过？”他结结巴巴地问道。 　　“没有。”哈利马上撒了个谎。 　　费驰那双指节突出的手扭在了一起。 　　“如果我猜想你读过我的……这可不是我的……是给一个朋友的……也许看起来……但是……” 　　哈利警觉地瞪着他看；费驰再没比现在更激动了。他的眼睛往外突出，胖胖的脸颊抽搐着。 　　“好，很好……走吧……不要跟别人说起……不要说……不过，如果你真的没读过……走吧，我现在要写皮维斯的报告……走……” 　　哈利几乎不敢相信自己的好运气，他快步走出办公室，穿过走道，走上楼梯。 　　能从费弛的办公室出来而不受惩罚可真算是一条学校的记录。 　　“哈利，哈利，有效吗？” 　　无头尼克从一间教室里滑出来，在他身后，哈利看到一个黑色和金色相间的大柜子的残骸，毫无疑问，那应该是从高空摔下来造成的。 　　“我劝服了皮维斯把这从费驰的办公室上扔下去，”尼克急切地说，“我想这样可能会分开他的注意力……” 　　“真是你啊？”哈利感激地说道。“是的，很有效。我不用留堂罚劳动。谢谢，尼克！” 　　他们一起沿着过道走着。哈利注意到，无头的尼克一直紧握着勃德莫先生的回信。 　　“我真希望我可以帮你进无头猎队。”哈利说道。 　　无头的尼克停住了脚步，哈利穿过了他的身体。他真希望他没这样做，因为那感觉就像在冰水里洗了个澡。 　　“不过你可以为我做些其它的事，”尼克兴奋地说。“哈利——我不知道是不是要求太过分了——算了，你不会想去——” 　　“去哪？”哈利问道。 　　“是这样的，今年的万圣节是我500周年忌日。”无头的尼克挺直了腰杆，庄严地说道。 　　“哦，”哈利说道，他不清楚该表示高兴还是悲哀，“是这样的。” 　　“我将在一个大房子里开一个晚会。全国的朋友都会参加。如果你能来的话，我将不胜荣幸。我很欢迎威斯里先生和格兰佐小姐来。当然了——不过我知道你们得去学校的餐宴吧？”他注意到哈利有点难为的样子。 　　“不，”哈利马上说道，“我会来——” 　　“我亲爱的朋友！哈利。波特，来我的忌日晚会！还有，”他犹豫了一会，兴奋地说，“你能不能在勃德莫先生的面前稍稍提及一下你看到我时是多么毛骨悚然呢？” 　　“当——当然了。”哈利说。 　　无头的尼克向他展露了微笑。 　“忌日晚会？”荷米恩表现出极大的兴趣。哈利换过衣服，在大厅看到了罗恩和荷米恩。“我敢打赌没几个活人去过这样的一个忌日晚会——肯定会是很好玩的。” 　　“为什么有人想庆祝死的那天呢？”罗恩说，他没做完药剂作业，脾气很暴躁。 　　“听起来让人蛮沮丧的……” 　　雨点仍旧拍打着窗户，外面漆黑一团，可里面既明亮又愉快。烟花发出美丽的光彩，飘落在椅子上。弗来德和乔治想看看如果把烟花喷到火蜥蜴上会有什么后果。 　　弗来德刚刚从魔法动物医疗班上“解救”出一条橘黄色的火渐蝎。他现在悄悄地躲在一张桌子下，四周围满了好奇的人群。 　　哈利正想告诉罗恩和荷米恩关于弗来德和克拉咒语课程，那条火蜥蜴一下子飞到半空，绕着房间疯狂地转着，还喷射出火花和发出巨大的响声。伯希朝着费驰和乔治大叫；火晰蝎口中喷出
橘黄色的火焰，然后逃进了火堆，发出爆炸声。这一切让哈利忘了弗来德和克拉咒语的信封。 　　随着万圣节一天一天地临近，哈利开始后悔他太仓促地作出了去忌日晚会的决定。学校的同学都在猜万圣节宴上的美味；大厅用活蝙蝠装饰了一番，哈格力的大南瓜被做成了灯笼，足足够三个人坐进去。还有传言说丹伯多预约了一个骷髅跳舞剧团来表演。 　　“你可是先答应别人的，”荷米恩权威似的提醒哈利。“你可说过你要去忌日晚会的。” 　　于是，七点整，哈利，罗恩和荷米恩径直走出门口，来到拥挤的大厅，大厅里金碟子和蜡烛闪闪发光地向他们发出了邀请。他们走向了办公室。 　　通向无头的尼克的晚会的过道上也摆着蜡烛，但是这些就没那么令人愉快了。 　　细细长长的黑色的蜡烛，烛火是亮蓝色的，在他们脸上投下暗淡的幽灵般的影子。 　　他们每往下走一步。温度都会下降一点。哈利战抖着，把魔袍紧紧地围住身体。这时，他听到了一种好像上千只指甲抓着一面巨大的黑板的声音。 　　“这该不是音乐吧？”罗恩低声说。他们转过一个角落，看见无头的尼克站在挂着黑紫色门帘的门口旁。 　　“我亲爱的朋友们，”他悲哀地说，“欢迎，欢迎……真高兴你们能来……” 　　他拿下羽毛帽子，向他们鞠了一躬，让了他们进去。 　　里面的情景让人难以置信。房子里上百个苍白透明的人在舞池上漂浮着，跟着可怕的令人毛骨悚然的乐声在跳华尔兹舞。在黑幕下的平台上，一个交响乐团在起劲地拉动着三十根电锯。头顶的树枝形吊灯发出蓝色的光。他们呼出的气都变成雾气；就好像走进了一个雪柜。 　　“咱们到周围走走看？”哈利建议道，他想活动活动一下冻麻了的脚。 　　“小心不要穿过别人，”罗恩紧张地说，他们沿着舞台边走。他们看见一群神情暗淡的修女；一个衣衫褴楼的戴着手镣的人；还有胖胖的法莱尔——一个快乐的海夫巴夫鬼魂。他正跟一个眉心插着箭的骑士在说话。哈利毫不惊奇地看到了浑身是血的拜罗——一个憔悴的史林德林鬼魂。 　　“噢，不是吧，”荷米恩突然说道。“回来，把头扭过来，我可不想和呻吟的麦托勒说话——” 　　“谁？”哈利问道。他们马上转了回来。 　　“她老在一楼的女厕里吓人。” 　　“她在厕所里吓人？” 　　“是的，她在那大发脾气，水淹厕所，那儿整年都乱了套了。如果可能的话，我怎么也不上那儿。上厕所时，听到她的哭叫声可真可怕——” 　“瞧，食物来了！”罗恩说道。 　　在房子的另一端有一张盖着紫黑色桌布的长桌子。他们热切地走过去，一看都吓呆了。一大条腐烂的鱼放在银色的盘子上，烧得像煤炭似的蛋糕摆在托盘上，一大块长满绿毛的爬着蛀虫的芝士还有一个巨大的墓碑形的灰色蛋糕，蛋糕上用焦油写着：尼克拉斯。德米斯。波平格顿先生死于1492年10月31日哈利惊奇地看着一个健壮的鬼魂走近桌子，弯下腰，穿过食物，他的嘴张得大大地穿过一条发臭的三文鱼。 　“你穿过食物的时候，能尝到什么味道吗？”哈利问道。 　　“有一点吧！”鬼魂悲哀地回答，然后飘走了。 　　“我想他们是特意让食物腐烂而要那些味道的。”荷米恩恍然大悟地说。她捏着鼻子凑近一盘腐烂的动物肝脏。 　　“我们走吧，我觉得不舒服。”罗恩说。 　　他们刚转过身，一个小人从桌子底飘了出来，悬浮在半空，停在他们前面。 　　“你好，皮维斯。”哈利小心地打招呼。 　　这个爱捣乱的鬼戴着一项鲜黄色的晚会帽子，一个不断旋转的领结，宽宽的脸上带着微笑。比起来，他是最不苍白透明的。 　　“吃一口吗？”他拿起一碟发霉的花生米甜甜地问道。 　　“不，谢谢了。”荷米恩马上说。 　　“我听到你说可怜的麦托勒的坏话了，”皮维斯眼睛发着光。“你对麦托勒可不够礼貌啊。”他深呼吸了一口大喊道：“啊，麦托勒！” 　　“不，不要，皮维斯，不要跟她说我说过的话，她会很不高兴的，” 　　荷米恩急忙低声说。“我不是有意的，我不在乎她会——啊，你好，麦托勒。” 　　一个女鬼蹲着飘了过来，她的脸是哈利看到过的最忧郁的。半遮在稀稀疏疏的头发下，戴着一双厚厚的珍珠眼镜。 　　“什么？”她抑郁地问。 　　“你好吗，麦托勒？”荷米恩假装高兴地问。“看到你走出厕所真高兴。” 　　麦托勒鼻孔喷了一下气。 　　“格兰佐小姐在说你——”皮维斯悄悄在麦托勒耳边说道。 　　“说，说——你今天晚上很漂亮。”荷米恩用眼睛瞪着皮维斯。 　　麦托勒怀疑地望着荷米恩。 　　“你在取笑我。”银色的泪珠从她那小小的几乎完全透明的眼睛里掉落下来。 　　“不——我是说真的——我说过麦托勒很漂亮吧？”荷米恩用手肘推了推哈利和罗恩的肋骨。 　　“哦是的……” 　　“她确实……” 　　“不要撒谎，”麦托勒喘着气，泪水哗啦哗啦地往下滑。皮维斯在她背后偷笑。 　　“你以为我不知道别人是怎么说我的吗？胖胖的麦托勒！丑陋的麦托勒！哀号的麦托勒！” 　　“你可漏了‘肮脏的’。”皮维斯在她耳边低声说。 　　哀号的麦托勒放声大哭起来，悲切的哭声充满的整个大厅。皮维斯跟在她后面，一边用花生扔她，一边喊：“肮脏鬼，肮脏鬼！” 　　“天啊。”荷米恩悲哀地说道。 　　这时，无头的尼克从人群中飘向他们。 　　“玩得开心吧？” 　　“哦，是的。”他们撒谎说。 　　“不错，”无头的尼克自豪地说。“号哭寡妇老远地从肯特跑来……我要去发表一下演说了，得先把交响乐队喊停……” 　　在这时，交响乐队已经停止了弹奏。狩猎的号角声响了起来。 　　于是，他们和屋子的每个鬼魂都静了下来，神情兴奋。 　　“啊，我们去瞧瞧。”无头的尼克痛苦地说。 　　十二匹鬼马冲进了屋子，每只上都坐着一个无头骑士。大家都疯狂地拍起手来，哈利也拍起了手掌，不过，他一看到尼克的表情就停住了手。 　　马疾奔到舞池中央，前腿往上抬起，用后脚站立着停了下来。一只体形高大的的鬼站在前面，他那满脸络腮胡子的头夹在胳膊底下，吹起号角，然后向前跨了一步，把头高高地举了起来。这样他可以看到人群了。（人群中爆发出笑声。）他走向无头的尼克，把头放回脖子上。 　　“尼克，”他大叫道。“你好吗？头还在吧？” 　　他中气十足地大笑着拍了拍尼克的肩膀。 　“欢迎，勃德莫。”尼克僵硬地回答道。 　“活人啊！”敖德莫看到哈利、罗恩和荷术思，假装惊奇地跳了起来，头再次掉了下来。（人群里又发出了一阵笑声） 　“很有趣，精彩。”无头的尼克脸色阴暗地说。 　　“不要介意啊，尼克。”勃德莫和其他的无头骑士开始了投头冰棍球，把人群的注意力吸引了过去。当勃德莫的头欢呼着飞过他身边时，无头的尼克徒劳地放弃了演说的希望。 　　哈利浑身冰冷，更不用说已经饿得饥肠始辆了。 　　“我可不能再忍受下去了。”罗恩低声说，交响乐队开始演奏，人们再次来到舞池时，他的上下牙都开始打架了。 　　“咱们走吧。”哈利表示同意。 　　他们走向门口，朝着每个看着他们的人都微笑点头，一分钟后，他们急急忙忙地走回了摆满黑蜡烛的过道。 　　“也许布丁还没吃完。”罗恩满怀希望地向大厅的石级走去。 　　接着，哈利听到了那把声音。 　　“……撕开……咬碎……杀死……” 　　是同一个声音，就是他在罗克哈特的办公室里听到的那把冰冷得让人毛骨惊然的声音。 　　他绊了一下，停下来，手扶着石墙，全神贯注地听着，两眼凝视着昏暗的过道。 　　“哈利，你在干——” 　　“又是那个声音——不要说话——” 　　“我好饿……等了好久……” 　　“听！”哈利急切地说。罗恩和荷米恩僵立在一旁，盯着哈利。 　　“……杀……是时候杀……” 　　声音越来越弱。哈利肯定它朝着哪里去了——朝着上面去了。 　　他盯着黑色的天花板，一股既恐惧又兴奋的感情充斥着全身：为什么它会升了上去呢？难道这是个幽灵，能够穿过石墙？ 　　“这边。”他一边叫，一边朝着楼梯跑上去，进入了大堂。万圣节宴上人们卿卿喳喳的谈话声回荡在大堂里，哈利无法听到那个声音。 　　哈利疾步跑上一楼的花岗石阶上，罗恩和荷米恩紧紧地跟着。 　　“哈利，我们在干——” 　　“嘘！” 　　哈利竖起了耳朵。遥远的，在头顶的地板上，而且越来越弱，他还是听到了那把声音：“……我闻到了血腥味……我闻到了血腥味！” 　　他的胃开始不断的搅动着。“它想去杀人！”他大叫着，顾不得罗恩和荷米恩疑惑的神情，一步三级地冲了上楼，在他“噔”的脚步声响下，耳朵还在仔细地辨认着声音。 　　哈利飞跑上二楼，罗恩和荷米恩在后面气喘吁吁地跟着。在最末一个空荡荡过道中停了下来。 　　“哈利，究竟是怎么一回事啊？”罗恩用手把脸上的汗抹掉。“我什么都听不到……” 　　突然，荷米恩指着走廊，倒吸了一口冷气。 　　“看！” 　　前面的墙上闪着光。他们一步一步，慢慢地走进了昏暗的走廊，瞪大了眼睛。 　　在两扇窗户的那堵墙上，涂抹在上面的脚掌大小的字在忽明忽暗的火把照耀下，发出微光。 　　“神秘的秘室已被开启。 　　敌人的后代，当心了。”“这是什么——吊在下面？“罗恩声音发颤地说。 　　他们缓缓地移动着脚步，哈利几乎滑倒了：地板上有一大滩的水。罗恩和荷米恩把他扶住。他们走近那些字，眼睛盯着下面的一团黑色的东西。他们马上认出了是什么，同时迅速地往后跳开。 　　诺丽丝夫人，管理员的那只猫，她的尾巴吊在火把桶上，身体像木板一样僵硬，眼睛瞪得大大的。 　　他们僵住在那好几秒种。然后罗恩说，“我们离开这吧。” 　　“我们应该试着去帮帮——”哈利结巴着说。 　　“相信我吧，”罗恩说道。“我们不能被发现在这。” 　但是已经太晚了。远处几声雷鸣般的响声告诉他们餐宴结束了。他们所在的走廊的两端同时响起了上楼梯的脚步声。吃得饱饱的人们快乐地大声说话。一会儿，同学们从两端涌了进来。 　　当大家一看到那只倒吊着的猫时，卿卿喳喳的谈话声、脚步声，一切的声响都停住了、哈利，罗恩和荷米恩站在走廊的中央。大家静静地靠上前看墙上的恐怖的字。 　　寂静中，一个人喊了起来。 　　“敌人的后代，当心了！你就是下一个目标，马尼血统的人！” 　　杰高。马尔夫在人群中走了出来。他冷冷的眼睛发着光，平常毫无血色的脸涨得通红，盯着吊着不动的猫咧开嘴笑了。 
Chapter 9 The Writting On The Wall
What's going on here? What's going on?”Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.“My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?” he shrieked.And his popping eyes fell on Harry.“You!"he screeched. ” You ! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—”“Argus!”Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.“Come with me, Argus,” he said to Filch. “You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger.”Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.“My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free—”“Thank you, Gilderoy,” said Dumbledore.The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.“It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…”Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him, though not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself If Dumbledore believed Filch, he would be expelled for sure.Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened. She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.“…I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou,” said Lockhart, “a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once…”The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.At last Dumbledore straightened up.“She's not dead, Argus,” he said softly.Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.“Not dead?” choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. “But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?”“She has been Petrified,” said Dumbledore ("Ah! I thought so!” said Lockhart). “But how, I cannot say…”“Ask him!” shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.“No second year could have done this,” said Dumbledore firmly. “it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—”“He did it, he did it!” Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. “You saw what he wrote on the wall! He found - in my office - he knows I'm a - I'm a -” Filch's face worked horribly. “He knows I'm a Squib!” he finished.“I never touched Mrs. Norris!” Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls. “And I don't even know what a Squib is .”“Rubbish!” snarled Filch. “He saw my Kwikspell letter!”“If I might speak, Headmaster,” said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of foreboding increased; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good.“Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. “But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?”Harry, Ron and Hermione all launched into an explanation about the deathday party. “…there were hundreds of ghosts, they'll tell you we were there—”“But why not join the feast afterward?” said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. “Why go up to that corridor?”Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.“Because - because -” Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, “because we were tired and wanted to go to bed,” he said.“Without any supper?” said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. “I didn't think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties.”“We weren't hungry,” said Ron loudly as his stomach gave a huge rumble.Snape's nasty smile widened.“I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful,” he said. “It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest.”“Really, Severus,” said Professor McGonagall sharply, “I see no reason to stop the boy playing Quidditch. This cat wasn't hit over the head with a broomstick. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong.”Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed.“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus,” he said firmly.Snape looked furious.So did Filch.“My cat has been Petrified!” he shrieked, his eyes popping. “I want to see some punishment!”“We will be able to cure her, Argus,” said Dumbledore patiently. “Professer Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris.”“I'll make it,” Lockhart butted in. “I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—”“Excuse me,” said Snape icily. “But I believe I am the Potions master at this school.”There was a very awkward pause.“You may go,” Dumbledore said to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them. Harry squinted at his friends'darkened faces.“D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?”“No,” said Ron, without hesitation. “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.”Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, “You do believe me, don't you?”“Course I do,” said Ron quickly. “But - you must admit it's weird…”“I know it's weird,” said Harry. “The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The Chamber Has Been Opened … What's that supposed to mean?”“You know, it rings a sort of bell,” said Ron slowly. “I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once… might've been Bill…”“And what on earth's a Squib?” said Harry.To his surprise, Ron stifled a snigger.“Well - it's not funny really - but as it's Filch,” he said. “A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual. If Filch's trying to learn magic from a Kwikspell course, I reckon he must be a Squib. It would explain a lot. Like why he hates students so much.” Ron gave a satisfied smile. “He's bitter.”A clock chimed somewhere.“Midnight,” said Harry. “We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else.”For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like “breathing loudly'and “looking happy.”Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Ron, she was a great cat lover.“But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris,” Ron told her bracingly. “Honestly, we're much better off without her.” Ginny's lip trembled. “Stuff like this doesn't often happen at Hogwarts,” Ron assured her. “They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time. I just hope he's got time to Petrify Filch before he's expelled. I'm only joking -” Ron added hastily as Ginny blanched.The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry and Ron get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, he went upstairs to meet Ron in the library, and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.Harry found Ron at the back of the library, measuring his History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three foot long composition on “The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards.”“I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short said Ron furiously, letting go of his parchment, which sprang back into a roll. “And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny.”“Where is she?” asked Harry, grabbing the tape measure and unrolling his own homework.“Somewhere over there,” said Ron, pointing along the shelves. “Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas.”Harry told Ron about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him.“Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot,” said Ron, scribbling away, making his writing as large as possible. “All that junk about Lockhart being so great—”Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.“All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out,” she said, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. “And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books.”“Why do you want it?” said Harry.“The same reason everyone else wants it,” said Hermione, “to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets.”“What's that?” said Harry quickly.“That's just it. I can't remember,” said Hermione, biting her lip. “And I can't find the story anywhere else—”“Hermione, let me read your composition,” said Ron desperately, checking his watch.“No, I won't,” said Hermione, suddenly severe. “You've had ten days to finish it—”“I only need another two inches, come on—”The bell rang. Ron and Hermione led the way to History of Magic, bickering.History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.Today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone like an old vacuum cleaner until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor, occasionally coming to long enough to copy down a name or date, then falling asleep again. He had been speaking for half an hour when something happened that had never happened before. Hermione put up her hand.Professor Binns, glancing up in the middle of a deadly dull lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289, looked amazed.“Miss - er -?”“Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets,” said Hermione in a clear voice.Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk.Professor Binns blinked.“My subject is History of Magic,” he said in his dry, wheezy voice. “I deal with facts , Miss Granger, not myths and legends.” He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk slipping and continued, “In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers—”He stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.“Miss Grant?”“Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?”Professor Binns was looking at her in such amazement, Harry was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead.“Well,” said Professor Binns slowly, “yes, one could argue that, I suppose.” He peered at Hermione as though he had never seen a student properly before. “However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational , even ludicrous tale—”But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word. He looked dimly at them all, every face turned to his. Harry could tell he was completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.“Oh, very well,” he said slowly. “Let me see… the Chamber of Secrets…“You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.”He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.“For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school.”Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.“Reliable historical sources tell us this much,” he said. “But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.“Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.”There was silence as he finished telling the story, but it wasn't the usual, sleepy silence that filled Professor Binns's classes. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.“The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course,” he said. “Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.”Hermione's hand was back in the air.“Sir - what exactly do you mean by the horror within'the Chamber?”“That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control,” said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice.The class exchanged nervous looks.“I tell you, the thing does not exist,” said Professor Binns, shuffling his notes. “There is no Chamber and no monster.”“But, sir,” said Seamus Finnigan, “if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?”“Nonsense, O'Flaherty,” said Professor Binns in an aggravated tone. “If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing—”“But, Professor,” piped up Parvati Patil, “you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it—”“Just because a wizard doesn't use Dark Magic doesn't mean he can't , Miss Pennyfeather,” snapped Professor Binns. “I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore—”“But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't -” began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.“That will do,” he said sharply. “It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history , to solid, believable, verifiable fact!”And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.“I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony,” Ron told Harry and Hermione as they fought their way through the teeming corridors at the end of the lesson to drop off their bags before dinner. “But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home…”Hermione nodded fervently, but Harry didn't say anything. His stomach had just dropped unpleasantly.Harry had never told Ron and Hermione that the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting him in Slytherin. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, the small voice that had spoken in his ear when he'd placed the hat on his head a year before : You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that…But Harry, who had already heard of Slytherin House's reputation for turning out Dark wizards, had thought desperately, Not Slytherin! and the hat had said, Oh, well, if you're sure… better be Gryffindor …As they were shunted along in the throng, Colin Creevy went past.“Hiya, Harry!”“Hullo, Colin,” said Harry automatically.“Harry - Harry - a boy in my class has been saying you're—”But Colin was so small he couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing him toward the Great Hall; they heard him squeak, “See you, Harry!” and he was gone.“What's a boy in his class saying about you?” Hermione wondered.“That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect,” said Harry, his stomach dropping another inch or so as he suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him at lunchtime.“People here'll believe anything,” said Ron in disgust.The crowd thinned and they were able to climb the next staircase without difficulty.“D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?” Ron asked Hermione.“I don't know,” she said, frowning. “Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be - well - human.”As she spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The scene was just as it had been that night, except that there was no stiff cat hanging from the torch bracket, and an empty chair stood against the wall bearing the message “The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened.”“That's where Filch has been keeping guard,” Ron muttered.They looked at each other. The corridor was deserted.“Can't hurt to have a poke around,” said Harry, dropping his bag and getting to his hands and knees so that he could crawl along, searching for clues.“Scorch marks!” he said. “Here - and here—”“Come and look at this!” said Hermione. “This is funny…”Har ry got up and crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hermione was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack. A long, silvery thread was dangling like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in their hurry to get outside.“Have you ever seen spiders act like that?” said Hermione wonderingly.“No,” said Harry, “have you, Ron? Ron?”He looked over his shoulder. Ron was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run.“What's up?” said Harry.“I - don't - like - spiders,” said Ron tensely.“I never knew that,” said Hermione, looking at Ron in surprise. “You've used spiders in Potions loads of times…”“I don't mind them dead,” said Ron, who was carefully looking anywhere but at the window. “I just don't like the way they move…”Hermione giggled.“It's not funny,” said Ron, fiercely. “If you must know, when I was three, Fred turned my - my teddy bear into a great big filthy spider because I broke his toy broomstick… You wouldn't like them either if you'd been holding your bear and suddenly it had too many legs and…”He broke off, shuddering. Hermione was obviously still trying not to laugh. Feeling they had better get off the subject, Harry said, “Remember all that water on the floor? Where did that come from? Someone's mopped it up.”“It was about here,” said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. “Level with this door.”He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned.“What's the matter?” said Harry.“Can't go in there,” said Ron gruffly. “That's a girls'toilet.”“Oh, Ron, there won't be anyone in there,” said Hermione standing up and coming over. “That's Moaning Myrtle's place. Come on, let's have a look.”And ignoring the large OUT of ORDER sign, she opened the door.It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom Harry had ever set foot in. Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.Hermione put her fingers to her lips and set off toward the end stall. When she reached it she said, “Hello, Myrtle, how are you?”Harry and Ron went to look. Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin.“This is a girlsbathroom,” she said, eyeing Ron and Harry suspiciously. ” They're not girls.”“No,” Hermione agreed. “I just wanted to show them how er - nice it is in here.”She waved vaguely at the dirty old mirror and the damp floor.“Ask her if she saw anything,” Harry mouthed at Hermione.“What are you whispering?” said Myrtle, staring at him.“Nothing,” said Harry quickly. “We wanted to ask—”“I wish people would stop talking behind my back!” said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. “I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead—”“Myrtle, no one wants to upset you,” said Hermione. “Harry only—”“No one wants to upset me! That's a good one!” howled Myrtle. “My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!”“We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately,” said Hermione quickly. “Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween.”“Did you see anyone near here that night?” said Harry.“I wasn't paying attention,” said Myrtle dramatically. “Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm - that I'm—”“Already dead,” said Ron helpfully.Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight, although from the direction of her muffled sobs, she had come to rest somewhere in the U-bend.Harry and Ron stood with their mouths open, but Hermione shrugged wearily and said, “Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle… Come on, let's go.”Harry had barely closed the door on Myrtle's gurgling sobs when a loud voice made all three of them jump.“RON!”Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face.“That's a girls bathroom!” he gasped. “What were you -?”“Just having a look around,” Ron shrugged. “Clues, you know—”Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of Mrs. Weasley.“Get - away - from - there -” Perry said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. “Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner—”“Why shouldn't we be here?” said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. “Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!”“That's what I told Ginny,” said Percy fiercely, “but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled, I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out, you might think of her , all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business—”“You don't care about Ginny,” said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. ” You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy—”“Five points from Gryffindor!” Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. “And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work , or I'll write to Mum!”And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Ron was still in a very bad temper and kept blotting his Charms homework. When he reached absently for his wand to remove the smudges, it ignited the parchment. Fuming almost as much as his homework, Ron slammed The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 shut. To Harry's surprise, Hermione followed suit.“Who can it be, though?” she said in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. “Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwart's?”“Let's think,” said Ron in mock puzzlement. “Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?”He looked at Hermione. Hermione looked back, unconvinced.“If you're talking about Malfoy—”“Of course I am!” said Ron. “You heard him - You'll be next, Mudbloods!’- come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him—”“Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?” said Hermione skeptically.“Look at his family,” said Harry, closing his books, too. “The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Elytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough.”“They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!” said Ron. “Handing it down, father to son …”“Well,” said Hermione cautiously, “I suppose it's possible…”“But how do we prove it?” said Harry darkly.“There might be a way,” said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. “Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect—”“If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?” said Ron irritably.“All right,” said Hermione coldly. “What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us.”“But that's impossible,” Harry said as Ron laughed.“No, it's not,” said Hermione. “All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion.”“What's that?” said Ron and Harry together.“Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago—”“D'you think we've got nothing better to do in Potions than listen to Snape?” muttered Ron.“It transforms you into somebody else. Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him.”“This Polyjuice stuff sounds a bit dodgy to me,” said Ron, frowning. “What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?”“It wears off after a while,” said Hermione, waving her hand impatiently. “But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called Moste Potente Potions and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library.” There was only one way to get out a book from the Restricted Section: You needed a signed note of permission from a teacher. “Hard to see why we'd want the book, really,” said Ron, “if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions.” “I think,” said Hermione, “that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance…“Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that,” said Ron. “They'd have to be really thick…”
“发生了什么事？发生了什么事？” 　　毫无疑问，马尔夫的叫声吸引了费驰的注意。费驰用肩膀挤开一条路，穿出了人群。他看到了诺丽丝夫人，吓得直往后退，脸上充满了恐怖的表倩。 　“我的猫！我的猫！诺丽丝夫人怎么了？”他尖声喊道。 　　随即他瞪大眼睛，将目光投向了哈利？ 　　“你！”他尖叫，“是你！你杀了我的猫！你杀了她！我要杀了你！我要——”“艾伯斯！” 　　丹伯多此时在一群老师的跟随下已经来到了现场。他急速将诺丽丝夫人解了下来。 　　“跟我来，费驰，”他对费驰说。“你们也来，波特先生、威斯里先生、还有荷米恩小姐。” 　　罗克哈特走上前，显得特别热心。 　　“我的办公室最近，校长。——就在楼上——请随便用——” 　　沉默的人群很快就自动散开让他们走上去。罗克哈特紧跟在丹伯多后面兴奋且自以为是的走着，麦康娜和史纳皮教授也同样匆匆的跟在后面走。 　　当他们走进罗克哈特黑乎乎的办公室时，哈利看见画中一些卷发的罗克哈特都争着躲开人群。真正的罗克哈特点亮了桌上的蜡烛，然后退向一边站着。丹伯多把诺丽丝夫人放在光滑的桌面上，开始对她进行检查。哈利、罗恩和荷米恩则沉沉的坐在烛台旁的椅子上，看着丹伯多，并不时交换着紧张的神色。 　　丹伯多先生长而弯的鼻子离诺丽丝的毛只有一英尺远。他正透过半月形的眼镜仔细的观察着她，长长的手指轻轻的拨弄着。麦康娜教授也弯着腰，眯着眼镜在近处看着。史纳皮站在他们后面，身于由于被半挡着而显得隐约若现，脸上一副奇怪的表情：好像他正在努力的不让自己笑出声。罗克哈特则周旋于他们中间，不时提出自己对问题的看法。 　　“肯定是咒语杀了她——可能是转魔法酷刑。我看见它被使用过很多次。可惜刚才我不在，不然的话我知道可以用种解咒法救她——” 　　罗克哈特的评论不时被费驰单调而痛苦的抽泣声打断。费驰瘫坐在桌旁的椅子上，把脸埋在手里，不敢去看诺丽丝夫人。尽管很讨厌费驰，哈利还是有一点点替他难过。当然，他更为自已伤心，因为一旦丹伯多相信了费驰的鬼话，那么他肯定会被赶出学校。 　　丹伯多用一些奇怪的话语喃喃自语着，一边用它的魔杖轻轻敲打着诸丽丝夫人，但什么事情也没发生。他继续观察着，就好像被施了魔法一样。 　　“……我记得在欧各斗各也发生过类似的事情，”罗克哈特说，“也是一连串的攻击，整件事情我都写在自传里了。我可以提供一些证据，帮你们把整件事情搞清楚。” 　　墙上挂的照片里，所有的罗克哈特都点头对他所说的话表示赞同。 　　终于丹伯多校长直起了身子。 　　“她还没死，亚格斯。”他轻声说。 　　听到这话，正在细数他曾阻止过多少谋杀案的罗克哈特突然停了下来。 　　“还没死？”费驰惊奇的问道，眼睛从指缝中望着诺丽丝夫人，“但是为什么她完全僵硬不动，浑身冰凉呢？” 　　“她被冷冻了，”丹伯多说（“哈！我就知道！”罗克哈特胜利的喊道）。 　　“但是至于怎么被弄成这个样子，我不能说……” 　　“问他！”费驰尖声喊道，一边将他脏脏的、充满泪痕的脸转向哈利。 　　“一个二年级的学生不可能做到这一点。”丹伯多肯定的说。“这需要用最先进的黑巫术——” 　　“是他干的，就是他干的！”费驰激动得唾沫四溅，胖鼓鼓的脸都涨紫了。 　　“你们看到了他写在墙上的字了！他发现——在我的办公室——他知道我是一个——是一个——”费驰的脸上变换着可怕的表情。“他知道我是一个史愧伯！”他终于说完了。 　　“我从没碰过诺丽丝夫人！”哈利大声反驳，同时感到很不自在，因为他意识到所有的人都在看着他，包括墙上的罗克哈特。“而且我也不知道史愧伯是什么。” 　　“胡说！”费驰吼道。“他看过我克拉咒语信件。” 　　“请允许我说几句，校长，”史纳皮从影子中说道。哈利此刻感到一种强烈的不安；他不认为史纳皮会说对他有利的话。 　　“波特和它的朋友也许只是在不恰当的时候呆在了不该呆的地方，”他带着一丝轻蔑的口吻说道，好像他自己都不相信似的，“但确实有一些值得我们怀疑的地方。当时他们究竟为什么会在楼上的走廊里？他们为什么不在万圣节的宴会上？” 　　哈利、罗恩和荷米思都开始为忌日晚会解释，“那儿有几百个小鬼，他们可以告诉你们我们在那里——” 　　“但是后来你们为什么不加入宴会？”史纳皮问，他黑黑的眼睛在烛光下显得闪闪发光。“为什么去走廊？” 　罗恩和荷米恩都望着哈利。 　　“因为——因为——”哈利说，他的心怦怦的跳得飞快；他知道如果他告诉他们他是被一个无形但却可以听见的声音领到那儿的，他们一定不会相信，“因为我们都很累，想上床睡觉。”他说。 　　“不吃晚饭么？”史纳皮问，瘦削的脸上闪出一丝胜利的笑容。 　　“我认为鬼是不会在宴会上为人提供合乎口味的食物的。” 　　“我们不饿。”罗恩大声说，它的肚子却由于饥饿传来了一阵响亮的咕嗜声。 　　史纳皮猥琐的笑容更加明显了。 　　“校长，我认为波特并没完全的坦白。”他说。 　　“也许剥夺他的一些特权直到他告诉我们整件事的真相会是一个好主意。我个人觉得在他准备说出全部事实之前，他不能继续呆在格林芬顿队里了。” 　“是吗，史纳皮教授？”麦康娜教授针锋相对的反驳说，“我找不到任何不让这孩子留在这队里的理由。这只猫不只是被扫帚打中头部那么简单。根本就没有任何证据可以证明哈利做错了什么。”丹伯多用询问的目光看了哈利一眼。他眼里透出的闪烁的绿光使哈利觉得他正在照X光。 　　“除非被证实有罪，否则他还是清白的，”丹伯多坚定的说。史纳皮显得愤怒异常，费驰也是。 　　“我的猫被冷冻了！”他尖叫，眼睛瞪得大大的。“我想他得到惩罚！” 　　“我们可以治疗她，亚格斯，”丹伯多耐心的说。“史鲍特老师最近正想方设法研制万锐克。等她一研制出来，我就拿一份来让诺丽丝夫人复苏。” 　　“我会做的，”罗克哈特插嘴说。“我肯定已经做过一百次了，在我睡觉时都可以制成一副恢复药剂。” 　　“不好意思，”史纳皮冷冷的说，“可是我相信我才是这个学校制作药剂的大师。” 　　紧接着，又一阵尴尬的沉默。 　　“你们可以走了，”丹伯多对哈利、罗恩和荷米恩说。他们以最快的速度走了出去。当他们走到罗克哈特办公室的楼上一层时，就转进一间空教室，将门轻轻的关上。哈利眯着眼，斜视着他的脸色阴沉的朋友。“你们认为我应该告诉他们我听到声音的那件事吗？” 　　“不，”罗恩毫不犹豫的答道。“即使在巫术世界，听到别人听不到的声音也不是一个好兆头。” 　　罗恩话中的弦外之音使哈利不禁问道，“你是相信我的，对吗？” 　　“我当然相信啦，”罗恩立即说。“但是你得承认这确实很离奇”我知道这很离奇，“哈利说。”整件事情都很奇特。那墙上的字是谁写的呢？‘秘室已被打开’这到底是什么意思呢？” 　　“你知道，这是一种提醒，”罗恩慢慢说。“曾经有人告诉过我一个关于霍格瓦彻学校里秘密秘室的故事……可能是比尔……” 　“那么史愧伯究竟是什么呢？”哈利问。 　　罗恩听了强忍住笑，这使哈利很惊讶。 　　“嗯——这并不是很有趣——但是正如费驰……”他说。“史愧伯就是生于巫术之家却不具备魔力的人。有点与马格人血统的巫师相对，但是史愧伯并不寻常。 　　如果费驰试图参加一个克拉咒语课程学习魔法的话，那么，我估计他肯定是一个史愧伯。这能说明很多问题，例如他为什么那么恨学生。“罗恩露出一个满意的笑容，”他充满着恨意。” 　　某处的钟开始鸣响报时了。 　　“午夜了，”哈利说。“我们最好在史纳皮来之前上床睡觉，免得他又用其它的事情来陷害我们。” 　　有一段时间，学校里除了谈论诺丽丝夫人遇害的事外，对其他的事说得很少。 　　费驰经常在她被攻击的地方走过，好像他觉得凶手会再来一样。这使每个人都对此事记忆犹新。哈利看见他使劲的擦墙上的信息，但是不见有什么效果；那些字依如往昔的留在墙上，引人注目。当费驰不在保护现场时，他就会鬼鬼祟祟的穿梭于走道间，专逮那些不相信他的学生，企图利用“呼吸声太大”或“看起来太高兴” 　　这样的罪名将他们关起来。 　　金妮。威斯里似乎十分为诺丽丝夫人的命运所扰。罗恩曾说过她是个超级爱猫迷。 　　“但是你并不真正了解诺丽丝夫人，”罗恩精神抖擞的对他说。 　　“坦白讲，如果没有她，我们会好得多。”金妮的嘴唇颤抖了。在霍格瓦彻像这样的冷冻并不常有，罗恩向她保证。“他们会逮住干这事的疯子，然后立刻把他给撵出去。我只是希望在他被赶走之前能够有足够的时间把费驰也冷冻了。哦，我只是开玩笑而已——”罗恩急速的说。而金妮已吓得面色惨白。 　　整件事对荷米恩也有影响。荷米恩把大量时间花在看书上，而且几乎不干别的事。当哈利和罗恩问她在忙什么时，她也不回答，直到下一个礼拜三他们才发现。 　　匆匆的吃过午饭后哈利就去楼上的图书馆找罗恩，却看见贾斯廷。弗林契从草药库走出来。哈利正准备跟他打招呼时，贾斯廷也看见了他，然后突然转身朝相反的方向跑了。 　　哈利在图书馆后面找到了罗恩，他正在做他的魔法历史作业。 　　宾西教授要求他们写一篇3英尺的关于“中世纪欧洲巫士大会”的文章。 　　“简直难以置信，我还差8英寸……”罗恩气鼓鼓的说，松开他的被卷成一个简的羊皮纸，“荷米恩已经做了4英尺7英寸了，而且她的字很小。” 　　“她在哪儿？”哈利说，一边抓住卷尺，展开他自己的作业。 　　“在那边，”罗恩说，手指沿着书架指去，“在找另一本书。我想她打算在圣诞前读完整个图书馆里的书吧！” 　　哈利告诉了罗恩，贾斯廷。弗林契看见他就跑了的事。 　　“真不知道有什么好介意的，我觉得他是个白痴，”罗恩说，一边草草的在纸上写着字，而且尽量把字写大一点。“所有关于罗克哈特的废话都很好——” 　　荷米恩从书架间走了出来。她看起来很烦躁，但最后还是跟他们说话了。 　　“所有的关于霍格瓦彻历史的书都被拿走了，”她一边说，一边挨着哈利和罗恩坐下。“而且还要等两个礼拜，真希望我没将我那本留在家里，但我不能把我的箱子全塞满罗克哈特的书。” 　　“你要那本书做什么？”哈利问。 　　“理由和其他想要这本书的人一样，”荷米恩说，“读有关秘密小秘室的传说。” 　　“那是什么？”哈利急切地问。 　　“就那么回事。我记不清了。”荷米恩咬着嘴唇说。 　　“而且我在别的地方也找不到这个故事——” 　　“荷米恩，让我读读你的作文。”罗恩看看手表，迫切的说。 　　“不，我不给，”荷米恩说，突然严肃起来。“你足足有10天的时间去完成它。” 　  “我只需要2英寸而已，继续……” 　　铃声响了。罗恩和荷米恩一边斗嘴一边跑去上魔法历史课。魔法历史可以说是所有课程中最单调乏味的。教这个课的宾西教授是他们唯一的幽灵老师。曾发生过的最有趣的一件事就是他有一次穿过黑板进入教室。他很老而且瘦，很多人说他并没注意到他已死了。 　　只是有一天他来上课，把他的躯体留在了教师办公室取暖器前的扶椅上；自那以后他的生活再也没有改变过。 　　今天和往常一样无趣。宾西教授打开他的笔记本，开始读笔记。 　　他的声音好像一个真空除尘器，低沉乏味，这时课堂中的每个人都昏昏欲睡，只是间或醒来抄一个名字或日期，然后就又睡了。他讲了半个小时，然后一件从未有过的事情发生了。荷米恩举起了手。 　　宾西教授从枯燥的1289年《巫术条例》中缓过神来，抬起头看了一眼，脸上显出惊讶的表情。 　　“嗯——？” 　　“教授，不知您可不可以给我讲讲秘密小屋。”荷米恩嗓音清晰的说。 　　一直望着窗外，张嘴坐着的达恩。托马斯猛地回过神来；拉威。布朗的头也抬了起来——宾西眨了眨眼睛。 　　“我的主题是魔法历史，”他用乏味的声音喘着气说。“我讲的是事实，格兰佐小姐，而不是神话传说。”他清了清嗓子，那声音听起来好像粉笔折断的噼啪声，然后继续说，“在那一年的九月，撒丁尼亚——” 　　他停了下来。荷米恩又晃动着她的手。 　　“格兰佐小姐？” 　　“但是先生，传说不总是以事实为基础的吗？”宾西教授非常惊讶地看着她，哈利可以肯定以前从没一个学生敢这样打断他，不论是活人还是死人。“嗯，”宾西教授缓慢的说，“是的，我想人们可以这么说。”他凝神的看着荷米恩，好像他从未好好的看过学生一样。“然而，你所提到的传说却十分耸人听闻，甚至荒诞不经的……” 　　但是，此刻整个教室的学生都聚精会神的听着宾西教授说的每一个字。 　　他神情暗淡的望着一张张对着他的脸。哈利觉得他已经被学生表现出的如此大的兴趣给震住了。 　　“噢，好吧，”他慢悠悠的说。“让我想想……秘密小屋……四个巫婆和巫师建立的，具体的日期已经不清楚了。学校的四所学院就是以他们的名字命名的：各德锐、格林芬顿、海尔格、海夫巴夫、罗安纳。卫文卡罗和撒兰沙。史林德林。因为当时马格人都很害怕魔法，很多巫婆和巫师受到了迫害。所以他们四人来到这里建了这座城堡。” 　　他停下来，大略的看了学生一眼，然后接着说，“很多年以来，创建者们都一起和谐的工作，寻找那些身上有魔法征兆的年轻人，把他们带进城堡进行教育。但是过了一段时间，他们之间出现了一些分歧。史林德林和其他人的关系出现了裂痕。 　　史林德林希望在挑选霍格瓦彻的学生时更加仔细严格。他认为魔法只能传授给纯魔法家庭。他不喜欢教马格人出身的学生，认为他们不值得信任。又过了一段时间，格林芬顿和史林德林为此事发生了一次大的争吵，史林德林就离开了学校。” 　　宾西教授停了下来，噘起嘴唇，看起来好像一支皱皮的老乌龟。 　　“可靠的历史根据可以告诉我们许多事。”他说，“但是，关于秘密小屋的传说使这些事实变得模糊不清起来。这个故事传言史林德林事先在城堡里建了一座小屋，这件事其他的创建人都不知情。根据传说，史林德林封闭了秘密小屋，这样在他真正的继承者来学校之前就没有人可以打开这间屋子。只有他的继承者可以打开秘密小屋，释放隐藏于其中的恐惧，并且清除掉所有不值得被传授魔法的人。” 　　当他讲完故事时，教室里一阵寂静，但这并不是往常那种充斥于宾西教授课堂的昏昏欲睡的沉静。空气中有一种不安的气氛，每个人都望着宾西教授，希望他能够告诉他们更多事情。宾西教授看起来有些生气。 　　“当然，整件事情彻头彻尾都非常无聊，”他说，“自然，学校一直都在寻找这样一个秘室，很多时候一些最知名的巫婆和巫师也对此进行了调查。但这样一个秘室是不存在的。这只是一个用来吓胆小鬼的故事而已，” 　　荷米恩把手从空中收了回来。 　　“先生——你指的‘里面的恐惧’是什么意思？” 　　“人们认为那是某种怪物，一种只有史林德林一个人可以控制的怪物。”宾西教授扯着尖而乏味的声音说。 　　同学们都你望着我，我望着你。 　　“我告诉你们，这个秘室不存在，”宾西教授说，语气非常迟缓。 　　“没有秘室，也不存在怪物。” 　　“但是，老师，”谢默斯。芬尼更说，“如果秘室只能由史林德林真正的继承人打开的话，那么其他人也就找不到它，是吗？” 　　“废话，芬尼更，”宾西教授气愤的说。“如果以前的霍格瓦彻校长都还找不到这个东西的话——” 　　“但是，教授，”帕维提。伯莱突然插嘴，“你也许可以用黑巫术去打开它——” 　　“并不是我不能，而是一个巫师是不可以使用黑巫术的，”宾西教授厉声说。 　　“如果诸如丹伯多这样的人都——” 　　“但你也许和史林德林有关连，所以丹伯多无法——”达恩托马斯开口说，但是宾西教授似乎已经听够了。 　　“够了，”他尖锐的说。“这是一个神话！根本不存在！正如一个秘密扫帚柜一样，没有一丝证据证明史林德林曾造过这样一所密室！ 　　我真后悔告诉你们这样一个愚蠢的故事！我们还是回到历史上来吧！回到那些坚实可信的事实上来！“不到五分钟，整个教室又恢复了往日的不振。 　　“我总认为撒拉沙。史林德林是个变态傻子。”罗恩对哈利和荷米恩说。他们正如往常在走廊上嬉戏。“但我从来都没想过他竟然是这堆纯血统废物的祖先，我绝不会在那学院呆着。老实说，如果分院帽把我放在史林德林的话，我将直接坐火车回家……” 　　荷米恩热烈的点着头，但是哈利却没说什么，他的肚子不舒服。 　　哈利从未告诉过罗恩和荷米恩分院帽是非常认真的对待将他安放到史林德林这件事情的。他记得，一切就如昨天一般，一年前当他把帽子戴在头上时，一个声音在他耳边轻语。 　　“你可以变得很伟大，全都在你的脑里了，毫无疑问，史林德林可以帮助你走向成功……” 　　但是哈利非常努力的想着，因为他早就听说了史林德林的房子由于出现黑巫土而名声变坏的事。“不到史林德林？”帽子说，“哦，好吧，如果你肯定……在格林芬顿会好一些……” 　　当他们试图推开人群向前走时，柯恩。格雷锐刚好从他们身边经过。 　　“哈利，哈利！” 　　“哈罗，柯恩。”哈利本能的打了个招呼。 　“哈利——哈利——我们班的一个男生说你是——” 　　但是柯恩的个子太小，无法在人流中挤向大厅；他们听到他说，“再见，哈利！” 　　然后就消失了。 　　“他班的一个男孩说了你什么？”荷米恩疑惑的问。 　“我猜，他说我是史林德林的继承人吧，”哈利说，他的肚子又疼了起来，因为他想到了午餐时从他身边跑掉的贾斯廷。弗林契。 　　“这里的人什么都信。”罗恩厌恶的说。 　　人群变得稀少了，他们已经可以轻松的爬到下一个梯面了。 　　“你真的认为有秘密小秘室吗？”罗恩问荷米恩。“我不知道，”他皱着眉头说。“丹伯多不能治愈诺丽丝夫人，这使我想到袭击它的可能不是——嗯——人类。” 　　当他说完时，他们已经走到了发生袭击的那个走廊的尽头。他们停下来，开始察看。这个地方和那天晚上一摸一样，只是少了一只猫被挂在火把托盘上，也少了一只椅子靠着有字迹“神秘的秘室已被开启”的墙。 　“这就是费驰一直保护的地方，”罗恩小声的说。他们你看我，我看你。整条走廊都已废弃了。 　　“不可能完全没有线索，”哈利说，一边把他的书包放下来，双手双膝趴在地上，搜索线索。“烧焦的痕迹！”他说。“这里——还有这里——” 　　哈利站起身，走到有字迹的墙旁边的一扇窗下。荷米恩正指着上面的一块玻璃。 　　在那玻璃上，一群蜘蛛正抢着从玻璃上面的一道裂缝爬过去。一条长长的银白色的丝线像一根悬挂在上面，好像它们都匆忙的想通过它爬到外面去。 　　“你见过蜘蛛像那个样子吗？”荷米思说。 　　“没。”哈利说，“你呢，罗恩？你呢？” 　　他看了罗恩一眼。罗恩正吓得直往后退，好像正在与一种想跑的冲动作斗争。 　　“怎么了？”哈利问。 　　“我——不——喜欢——蜘蛛。”罗恩紧张的说。 　　“我从不知道。”荷米恩吃惊的看着罗恩。“你在药剂里用过很多蜘蛛……” 　　“我不介意死蜘蛛。”罗恩眼睛看着蜘蛛说，“我只是不喜欢它们活动的方式……”荷米恩痴痴的笑了。 　　“这并不好笑，”罗恩愤怒的说，“如果你知道，当我三岁时，弗来德把我的——我的玩具变成了——脏的蜘蛛，因为我弄断了他的玩具棒。你也不喜欢他们的，如果你曾抱着的熊突然长出许多脚……” 　　他浑身颤抖，没有继续说下去。荷米恩还是在竭力忍着不笑出声。哈利觉得他们最好换个话题，所以就说，“记得地板上的水吗？ 　　那是从哪里来的？有人已经把他给拖干净了。”“差不多就在这里。“恢复了常态的罗恩沿着椅子走了几步，指着地说。”与这扇门齐平。“他伸手去摸门上的铜把手，但突然手像被烧焦了一样的缩了回来。 　　“怎么了？”哈利问。 　　“进不去，”罗恩粗声说，“那是女厕所。” 　　“哦，罗恩，那里没有任何人，”荷米恩说着站起身朝罗恩走过去。 　　“那是呻吟的麦托勒的地方。快来看看。” 　　她无视“闲人免进”的牌子，打开了门。 　　这是哈利见过的最阴暗最令人压抑的一间洗手间。一排破烂的石制水槽躺在一张破而脏的大镜子下。潮湿的地板映着微弱的烛光；小洗漱间的木质门已经被刮花。 　　荷米恩将手指放在嘴唇上以示让大家安静，接着她朝洗漱间走了过去。当她走到那里时，“哈罗，麦托勒，你好？” 　　哈利和罗思走过去看。呻吟的麦托勒浮在厕所的水槽上，用手摸她的脸。 　　“这是女洗手间，”她望着哈利和罗恩怀疑说。“他们不是女的。” 　　“是的，”荷术恩表示赞同。“我只是想让他们看看这里——嗯——有多好。” 　　哈利和罗恩可以看见她正从模糊的镜子里向他俩挥着手。 　　“问问她看见过什么。”哈利对着镜子里的荷米恩动着嘴唇说。 　　“你们在悄悄地说什么？”麦托勒盯着他问。 　　“没什么，”哈利很快说。“我们想问——” 　　“我希望人们不要背着我说话！”麦托勒呜咽着说。“我有感觉，你知道，即使我已经是个死人。” 　　“麦托勒，没人想令你伤心，”荷米恩说。“哈利只是——” 　　“没人想令你伤心！真会说！”麦托勒吼道。“我在这里的生活只是苦难，而现在却有人想毁掉我的生活！” 　　“我们只是想问你近来有没有看见什么有趣的事，”荷米恩迅速的说，“因为在万圣节的晚上，一只猫在你的门前被袭击了。” 　　“那晚你有没有在附近看见什么？”哈利问。 　　“我没注意，”麦托勒戏剧性的说。“贵族们太令我伤心，我跑了进来，想自杀。然后，当然，我记得我是——我是——”“已经死了。”罗恩帮着她说完。 　　麦托勒抽泣了一下，站起来翻了一个身，先把头放进厕所里，将水溅了他们一身，最后从视线中消失了；从她哭声传来的方向可以知道她在U形架上。 　　哈利和罗恩张着嘴呆呆的站在那里，但是荷米恩却耸耸肩说，“坦白说，那对麦托勒来说是最好的了……来，我们走。” 　　哈利刚刚关上门将麦托勒的抽泣声留在身后，一声巨响就把他们吓了一跳。 　　“罗恩！” 　　伯希。威斯里满脸惊讶。 　“那是女洗手间！”他尖叫道。“你们是——” 　　“只是随便看看，”罗恩耸耸肩说。“线索，你知道……” 　　伯希的举止使哈利想起了威斯里小姐。 　　“从——这儿——离开——”他说，然后便迈着大步，挥动着双手，开始赶他们。“你们不在乎吗？等别人吃饭时，你们再过来。” 　　“我们为什么不能在这里？”罗恩辛辣的说，同时将目光从伯希身上移开。 　　“听着，我们没动那只猫一个手指头！” 　　“我正是那样告诉金妮的，”伯希说，“但是她仍然认为你会被学校开除；我从没见她这么伤心过，几乎把眼睛都哭肿了。你们应该好好想想她，所有的一年级学生都为这件事而过于兴奋了——” 　　“你根本不关心金妮，”罗恩红着眼睛说。“你只是担心我们破坏了你成为首领的机会。” 　　“格林芬顿减5分！”伯希一边抚弄着他的绷带一边简洁明了的说道。“我希望你们能吸取这个教训！不要再侦查，否则我会写信给你们的妈妈！” 　　说完他就走了，孩子们看见他的脖子和罗恩的耳朵一样红。 　　那晚哈利、罗恩和荷米思都选离伯希很远的位置坐。罗恩的脾气还是很差，他不停的涂抹他的作业。令哈利惊奇的是，荷米恩也做着同样的事情。 　　“会是谁呢？”她低声说，好像要继续他们刚才的谈话。“谁想让所有的史愧伯人和有马格人血统的人离开学校呢？” 　　“让我们想想，”罗恩疑惑不解的说。“谁最想让马格人都离开这里？” 　他看着荷米恩，荷米恩也看着她，两人都不十分肯定。 　　“如果你认为是马尔夫——” 　　“我当然这样认为！”罗恩说。“你也听到他说什么了：你们就是下一个马格人牺牲品！”来，你们只需要看看他的嘴脸来确定是他——”“马尔夫，史林德林的继承人？“荷米恩怀疑的说。 　　“来看看他的家庭。”哈利合上书本说。“他的全家都在史林德林，他经常炫耀这一点。他要成为史林德林的继承人是很容易的。 　 　他的爸爸坏透了。“‘”他们可能有打开秘室之谜的钥匙！“罗恩说。 　“嗯，”荷米恩说“我想可能是……” 　　“但是我们怎么证明呢？”哈利无精打采的说。 　　“可能有个办法！”荷米恩说。“是这样……” 　  “好，让我们走吧，没有老师会知道的。”罗恩说。“他们没有机会的……” 
Chapter 10 The Rogue Bludger
Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him.Harry was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. If he hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it.“Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - slammed him to the floor - thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat - I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm- he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that - good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks.”The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.“Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!”The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.“Ready?” Harry muttered.“Wait till everyone's gone,” said Hermione nervously. “All right…”She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry and Ron right behind her.“Er - Professor Lockhart?” Hermione stammered. “I wanted to - to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading.” She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. “But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it - I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms.”“Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!” said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. “Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?”“Oh, yes,” said Hermione eagerly. “So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer—”“Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help,” said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. “Yes, nice, isn't it?” he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. “I usually save it for book-signings.”He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.“So, Harry,” said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. “Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…”Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron and Hermione.“I don't believe it,” he said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. “He didn't even look at the book we wanted.”“That's because he's a brainless git,” said Ron. “But who cares, we've got what we needed-”“He is not a brainless git,” said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library.“Just because he said you were the best student of the year—”They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture.“Moste Potente Potions?” she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go.“I was wondering if I could keep it,” she said breathlessly.“Oh, come on,” said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. “We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough.”Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty.Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again. Hermione had overridden Ron's objections by pointing out that it was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so they were guaranteed some privacy. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but they were ignoring her, and she them.Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the three of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head.“Here it is,” said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Harry sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces.“This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen,” said Hermione as they scanned the recipe. “Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass,” she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. “Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves… Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that - shredded skin of a boomslang -. that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into.”“Excuse me?” said Ron sharply. “What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it—”Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him.“We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last…”Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry.“D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students'cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea…”Hermione shut the book with a snap.“Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine,” she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. “I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in.“I never thought Id see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules,” said Ron. “All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?”“How long will it take to make, anyway?” said Harry as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again.“Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days… I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients.”“A month?” said Ron. “Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!” But Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, “But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say.”However, while Hermione was checking that the coast was clear for them to leave the bathroom, Ron muttered to Harry, “It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow.”Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. He was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. He had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. After half an hour of lying there with his insides churning, he got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.“Slytherin has better brooms than us,” he began. “No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -“("Too true,” muttered George Weasley. “I haven't been properly dry since August")”- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team.”Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry.“It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to.”“So no pressure, Harry” said Fred, winking at him.As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.“On my whistle,” said Madam Hooch. “Three… two… one…”With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.“All right there, Scarhead?” yelled Malfoy, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom.Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.“Close one, Harry!” said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible…Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course.“Gotcha!” Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, “Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero.The Slytherins'superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it.“Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -” Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.“We need time out,” said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger.“What's going on?” said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. “We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?”“We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver,” said George angrily. “Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it.”“But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then…” said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction.“Listen,” said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, “with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one.”“Don't be thick,” said Fred. “It'll take your head off.”Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys.“Oliver, this is insane,” said Alicia Spinner angrily. “You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry…”“If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!” said Harry. “And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!”“This is all your fault,” George said angrily to Wood. “`Get the Snitch or die trying,'what a stupid thing to tell him—”Madam Hooch had joined them.“Ready to resume play?” she asked Wood.Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face.“All right,” he said. “Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own.”The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past Wood.A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.“Training for the ballet, Potter?” yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy in hatred, he saw it - the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear - and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it.For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch.WHAM.He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side - the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face - Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Malfoy.Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him.“What the -” he gasped, careening out of Harry's way.Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand.“Aha,” he said vaguely. “We've won.”And he fainted.He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.“Oh, no, not you,” he moaned.“Doesn't know what he's saying,” said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. “Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm.”“No!” said Harry. “I'll keep it like this, thanks…”He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby.“I don't want a photo of this, Colin,” he said loudly.“Lie back, Harry,” said Lockhart soothingly. “It's a simple charm I've used countless times—”“Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?” said Harry through clenched teeth.“He should really, Professor,” said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. “Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say—”Through the thicket of legs around him, Harry spotted Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.“Stand back,” said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.“No - don't -” said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry's shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly. His arm didn't hurt anymore - nor did it feel remotely like an arm.“Ah,” said Lockhart. “Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will be able to - er - tidy you up a bit.”As Harry got to his feet, he felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him pass out again.Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-colored rubber glove. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing happened.Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them.Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased.“You should have come straight to me!” she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. “I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back—”“You will be able to, won't you?” said Harry desperately.“I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful,” said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. “You'll have to stay the night…”Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.“How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?” Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. “If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked.”“Anyone can make a mistake,” said Hermione. “And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?”“No,” said Harry, getting into bed. “But it doesn't do anything else either.”As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly.Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro.“You're in for a rough night,” she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him. “Regrowing bones is a nasty business.”So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help Harry gulp down some water. “We won, though,” said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. “That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face… he looked ready to kill…”“I want to know how he fixed that Bludger,” said Hermione darkly. “We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion,” said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. “I hope it tastes better than this stuff…”“If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking,” said Ron.The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry. “Unbelievable flying, Harry,” said George. “I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy.” They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, “This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!” And Harry was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp arm.Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: His arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.“Get off!” he said loudly, and then, “Dobby!”The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.“Harry Potter came back to school,” he whispered miserably. “Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?”Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.“What're you doing here?” he said. “And how did you know I missed the train?”Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.“It was you!” he said slowly. “You stopped the barrier from letting us through!”“Indeed yes, sir,” said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. “Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward” - he showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers - “but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would get to school another way!”He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head.“Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir…”Harry slumped back onto his pillows.“You nearly got Ron and me expelled,” he said fiercely. “You'd better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you.”Dobby smiled weakly.“Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home.”He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself.“Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?” he asked curiously.“This, sir?” said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. ” Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever.”Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, “Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make—”“Your Bludger?” said Harry, anger rising once more. “What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?”“Not kill you, sir, never kill you!” said Dobby, shocked. “Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!”“Oh, is that all?” said Harry angrily. “I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?”“Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!” Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. “If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir,” he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. “But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sit… And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more.”Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, “Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby…”“So there is a Chamber of Secrets?” Harry whispered. “And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!”He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. “But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the Chamber?”“Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby,” stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. “Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, tis too dangerous—”“Who is it, Dobby?” Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. “Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?”“Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!” squealed the elf. “Go home, Harry Potter, go home!”“I'm not going anywhere!” said Harry fiercely. “One of my best friends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened—”“Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!” moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy. “So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Harry Potter must not—”Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside.“Dobby must go!” breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.“Get Madam Pomfrey,” whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Harry lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. He heard a sharp intake of breath.“What happened?” Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.“Another attack,” said Dumbledore. “Minerva found him on the stairs.”“There was a bunch of grapes next to him,” said Professor McGonagall. “We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter.”Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face.It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera.“Petrified?” whispered Madam Pomfrey.“Yes,” said Professor McGonagall. “But I shudder to think… If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows what might have—”The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip.“You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?” said Professor McGonagall eagerly.Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera.“Good gracious!” said Madam Pomfrey.A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Harry, three beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.“Melted,” said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. “All melted…”“What does this mean, Albus?” Professor McGonagall asked urgently.“It means,” said Dumbledore, “that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again.”Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore.“But, Albus… surely… who?”“The question is not who,” said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin. “The question is, how…” And from what Harry could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.
自从小精灵悲剧性的插曲发生后，罗克哈特教授就不再把小生物带去班里了。 　　相反地，他把书中的段落读给学生听，有时也重演了其中一些更为戏剧性的零碎片段，他通常是挑选哈利来帮他扮演，到目前为止，他已经被迫扮演了一个愚蠢的船丝维尼亚村民，罗克哈特破解了他身上的符咒；一个脑袋冰冷的雪人，还有一个被罗克哈特收拾过后，除了莴苣什么也吃不了的吸血鬼。 　　在他们的黑巫术防卫课上，哈利再次被拽到教室前面。这一次他演的是人狼。 　　如果不是为了让罗克哈特保持好心情的话，他一定会拒绝去做的。 　　“精彩的狂嚎，哈利——正是这样——然后，如果你愿意相信的话，我突然袭击——就像这样——使劲地把他摔倒在地板上——这样——用一只手——我要控制住他——用另一只手，我用我的魔杖抵住他的喉咙——我接着鼓起我的余力并施了极复杂的魔法——他发出一声可怜的呻吟——继续。哈利再高一点——好——毛消失了——尖牙缩回去了——他变回了一个人。简单但有效——另一个村庄将会永远记住我，一个把他们从每月遭受人狼袭击的恐惧中拯救出来的英雄。” 　　铃声响了，罗克哈特迈开脚步。 　　“家庭作业是写一首关于我击败人狼韦格的诗！写得最好的将得到签名的手抄本《神奇的我》！” 　　班里的人开始离开了。哈利回到教室后面，罗恩和荷米恩在那里等地。 　　“准备好了？”哈利低声问。 　　“等到人走光了，”荷米恩紧张地说，“好了……” 　　她走到罗克哈特的桌旁，手里紧抓着一张纸，哈利和罗恩站在她后面。 　　“呢——罗克哈特教授？”荷米恩结结巴巴地说。“我想要——要把这本书带出图书馆。只是为了阅读背景。”她拿出那张纸，她的手轻轻地颤抖着。“但问题是，它是存放在图书馆的限制部的，所以我需要一个老师签字——我相信它将有助于我理解你讲的《与食尸者漫步同游》里面关于慢性毒液……” 　　“啊，《与食尸者漫步同游》！”罗克哈特叫了一声，把纸条从荷米恩那里拿过来，对她开怀微笑，“那可能是我最喜爱的书了。你也喜欢？” 　　“噢，是的。”荷米恩急切地说，“你用滤茶器捕最后一个鬼的方法简直是聪明极了……” 　　“嗯，我相信对于我给在一年之中最优秀的学生一点份外的帮助，是不会有人介意的。”罗克哈特温和地说，掏出一支大孔雀羽毛笔。“是的，精彩，不是吗？” 　　他说，误解了罗恩脸上抗议的表情。“我通常用它在书上签字。” 　　他在纸条上草草地画了个狂乱的签名，然后递给荷米恩。 　　“喔，哈利，”当荷米恩手忙脚乱地把字条塞进她的书包里时。罗克哈特说，“明天是这个赛季的第一场快迪斯比赛，是吧？格林芬顿对史林德林对吗？我听说你是个有用的队员。我也是一个搜索者。 　　我被邀请加入国家队，但我宁愿致力于研究神秘力量的消失。当然，如果你觉得有私下练习的需要的话，请告诉我。我总是很乐意把我的技巧传授给能力不足的队员……“哈利咙头发出一声明显的怪声，接着就跟着罗恩和荷米恩去了。 　　“我不信，”他说，当他们三人在研究字条上的签名时，“他甚至看都不看一眼我们要借的书。” 　　“那是因为他是一个没脑的笨蛋，”罗恩说，“管他呢，反正我们已经得到了我们要的了。”   　“他不是什么没脑的笨蛋，”在他们半跑向图书馆的路上，荷米恩尖刻地说。 　　“就因为他说你是一年中最优秀的学生……” 　　当他们进入图书馆寂静的环境时，他们放低了嗓音。宾西夫人——图书管理员是一个又瘦又暴躁的人，看起来像一头没吃饱的秃鹫。 　　“《神奇药典》？”她怀疑地重复一遍，试图把纸条从荷米恩手里拿过去，但荷米恩不肯放手。 　　“我要看看我能不能留住它。”她上气不接下气地说。 　　“噢，来吧。”罗恩说，把纸条从她手里猛拉出来，递给宾西夫人，“我们会给你一张亲笔签名的。罗克哈特将会签任何东西，只要它静立的时候够长。” 　　宾西夫人把字条凑近灯边，似乎想发现一些伪造的痕迹，但它通过了检查。她在高大的书架中大步走去，几分钟后捧着一本又大又旧的书回来了。荷米恩把它小心地放进书包里，然后他们离开了，一边尽量不要走得太急或看起来形迹可疑。 　　五分钟后，他们又一次把自己关在呻吟的麦托勒那个凌乱的厕所间里：荷米恩不顾罗恩的抗议，指出这是最后一个处于他们这种状态的人都会去的地方，这样他们才能保证有私人空间。呻吟的麦托勒在她的小房间里大声叫喊，但他们都没理她。 　　荷米恩把《神奇药典》小心打开，他们三个人都俯下身去看这有湿渍的书页，一瞥之下就很清楚为何它会属于限制级了。其中一些内容几乎是超乎想象的触目惊心，而且还有一些很恐怖的插图，包括一个内脏被翻出来的男人和一个头上长了几双手的巫婆。 　　“就是它，”荷米恩兴奋地说，当她发现页首有“神奇药浆”的字时。书上还有一些画，内容是一个人转变成另一些人的过程。 　　“这是我看过的最复杂的药。”当他们在浏览清单时，荷米恩说。 　　“有透明翅膀的苍蝇，蚂蟥，移动草，还有纠结草，”她嘀咕着，手指沿着列表上的内容下滑。“这够容易的了。它们就在学生储藏柜里，我们能拿到。啊，看，双面兽制成粉的面——不知我们在哪能找得到……本斯兰切成碎片的皮肤——那也需要技巧——当然这有点困难，不管我们想变成谁。” 　　“什么？”罗恩尖刻地说，“你是什么意思？有一点？不管我们想变成谁？我宁愿什么都喝。只要不是斯卡伯斯的脚趾头在里面。” 　　荷米恩继续说，仿佛她没听到他的话一样。 　　“但是我们不必去担心，因为我们可以把这些零碎的东西放在最后加……” 　　罗恩不发一言转向荷米恩，他有他的忧虑。 　　“你难道不知道我们有多少东西要偷吗？本斯兰切成碎片的皮肤，双面兽制成粉的面，那是肯定不在学生拒橱里的。我们接着要做什么呢？潜入史纳皮的私人储藏室？我不知这算不算好主意……” 　　荷米恩啪嗒一声合上书。 　　“如果你们两个想退缩，行。”她说她的脸颊泛起了红潮，眼睛也比平时更明亮了。“你们知道，我不想破坏规矩。我认为威胁马格人出身的人比图谋药更糟糕。 　　但如果你们不想找出是不是马尔夫，我现在就直接去找宾西夫人把书还回去……” 　　“我从没想过我会看到你劝我们去破坏规矩的一天。”罗恩说，“好吧，我们做。但不要脚趾头，行吗？”  　“不管怎么说，那要花多长时间？”当荷米恩重新高兴地打开书时，哈利问。 　　“嗯，因为移动草得在月圆时才能搞到，透明翅要炖二十一天……我想大概能在一个月内准备好吧，如果我们能得到所有东西的话。” 　　“一个月？”罗恩说，“那时马尔夫已经袭击了学校里的大半的马格人出身的人了！”但当荷术恩的眼睛又危险地眯了起来，他见风使舵地加上一句，“但这已是我们最好的计划了。 　　但是当荷米恩在察看是否四下无人，以便离开洗澡间时，罗恩向哈利低声抱怨：“要是你明天就能把马尔夫击下他的扫帚，那就少了很多麻烦了。” 　　星期六早上，哈利很早就醒了。他躺在床上想了一会即将来临的快迪斯比赛的事。他有点紧张，主要是因为想到如果格林芬顿输了，不知伍德会说什么。而且要面对的又是一支坐在金子才买得到的最快的扫帚上的队伍。他从没这么迫切地想要击垮史林德林。躺在那里思潮翻腾了半个小时后，他终于起来穿衣服，坐下吃早餐。 　　在那里他发现其他格林芬顿的队员都聚集在又长又空的桌旁，每个人看起来都精神紧张，而且话说得很少。 　　快11点时，大家开始出发前往快迪斯体育馆。这天天气闷热，时不时有雷响。 　　当哈利进入更衣室时，荷米恩和罗思匆匆忙忙地走过来祝他好运。队员们换上他们猩红色的格林芬顿球服，然后坐下听伍德例常的赛前鼓舞士气的讲话。 　　“史林德林有比我们好的扫帚。”他开始说，“毫无置疑的。但我们有更好的队员。我们训练得比他们艰苦，我们在各种各样的天气里飞行——”（对极了！ 　　“乔治嘀咕着，”自从八月份以来，我的身上就没真正干过。“）——我们将让他们懊悔他们露出微笑的那一刻。马尔夫，只是买通了让他进入史林德林队而已。” 　　伍德满腹心事地转向哈利。 　　“全靠你了哈利，让他们看一看搜索者还必须有其他一些东西，而不仅仅是有一个有钱的父亲。在马尔夫之前取得史尼斯球，哈利，因为我们今天要赢，我们已经准备好要赢了。” 　　“压力别太大，哈利。”弗来德说，向他眨了眨眼。 　　当他们走出来上场时，一阵雷鸣般的声音响了起来，主要是吹呼声。因为卫文罗和海夫巴夫的人都急着要看史林德林被击败。但史林德林的人也在人群里发出一些唏嘘喝倒采的声音。霍克夫人，快迪斯的老师，让史林斯和伍德握手。他们给了对方一个威胁性的眼神，并故意别有深意地重重握紧了手。 　　“听我的哨声，”胡施夫人，“三……二……一” 　　随着人群里的吼叫催促他们开始，四个参赛者升上倾斜的天空。 　　哈利飞得比谁都高，他眯着眼在寻找偷分球。 　　“小傻瓜，上面还好吧？”马尔夫大叫，在他下面飞驰，似乎想炫耀他那扫帚的速度。 　　哈利没有回答。正在那时，一个又黑又重的布鲁佐球向他撞过来。他躲得很险。 　　他感觉到它经过时把他的头发都弄乱了。 　　“靠近一点，哈利。”乔治说着手里握着棍棒，准备把布鲁佐球回击向史林德林。哈利看到乔治朝着敌队的方向给了布鲁佐球有力的一击，但布鲁位球在空气中改变了方向又向哈利飞来。 　　哈利迅速下沉避开它。乔治试图把它重重击向马尔夫。又一次布鲁佐球像个回力棒一样弹了回来击中哈利头部。 　　哈利突然加速转向场地的另一边。他听到布鲁位球在他身后呼啸而来。怎么回事？布鲁佐球从来没有这样紧盯着一个选手不放的。它们的任务就是让尽可能多的人摔下来。 　　弗来德正在另一边等布鲁佐球，当弗来德给了布鲁佐球全力一击时，哈利迅速低下头。布鲁佐球被击个正着。 　　“它完蛋了！”弗来德兴奋地大叫，但他错了。哈利好像磁石一样吸引着布鲁佐球，它又一次紧跟着他。哈利不得不全速飞离。 　　开始下雨了。哈利感觉到重重的雨滴打在脸上，使他的眼镜变模糊了。他对比赛中的其他事一无所知，直到他听到评述员李。乔丹说：“史林德林学院暂时领先，60比0” 　　史林德林的灵光2001超级扫帚显然帮了他们个大忙，而同时那发了疯的布鲁佐球正在尽它的所能把哈利击垮。弗来德和乔治正飞在哈利两旁。他们离他那么近，以致于他除了他们摆动的手臂，什么也看不到，更没有机会去寻找史尼斯球。 　　“有人——对这——布鲁佐球——作了手脚。”弗来德咕哝着，用尽力气挥舞着他的拍子，仿佛准备给哈利来一个新的袭击。 　　“我们必须暂停。”乔治说，并试图向伍德作手势，同时阻止布鲁佐球打破哈利的鼻子。 　　“怎么回事？”伍德问。格林芬顿的人聚集在一起，而史林德林的人则在人群中嘲弄不已。“我们无地自容了。弗来德、乔治，当布鲁位球停下来时，你们在哪？” 　　“我们在离它20英尺高的地方，阻止另一个布鲁佐球谋杀哈利，奥立弗。”乔治说，“有人对它作了改动——它不放过哈利。整场它没跟过其他人。史林德林的人肯定对他作了些什么。” 　　“可是自从我们最后一次训练后布鲁佐球就被锁在胡施夫人的办公室里了。再说后来他们也没什么问题……”伍德着急地说。 　　霍克夫人向他们走了过来。越过她的肩膀，哈利可以看到史林德林队的人指着他的方向，嘲讽着。 　　“听我说，”当她越走越近时哈利说，“当你们两个一直围着我飞时，我能抓住史尼斯球的唯一方法就是除非它自己飞上我的袖子。” 　　哈利说，“回到队里去，让我来对付这恶棍。” 　 “别傻了，”佛来德说，“它会把你的头砸下来的。” 　　伍德看看哈利，又看看威斯里。 　　“奥立弗，这太疯狂了。”艾丽斯亚生气地说，“你不能让哈利一个人对付那玩意。我们要求调查——” 　　“如果我们现在停止，我们会失去比赛的！”哈利说。“我们不能就因为一个发疯的布鲁佐球而输给史林德林！来吧，奥立弗，告诉他们让我自己一个人来。” 　　霍克夫人加入了他们当中。 　　“准备好要比赛了吗？”她问伍德。 　　伍德看着一脸毅然的哈利。 　　“好吧，”他说，“弗来德、乔治，你们听到哈利的话了——让他一个人，让他独自对付布鲁佐球。” 　　这时雨下得更大了。在霍克夫人的哨声中，哈利冲了上去，他听见布鲁佐球在他后面飞快移动的声音。哈利攀得越来越高。他在空中翻筋斗，作波浪状飞行，盘施，曲折前行，起伏不定；虽感到有点目眩神速，他还是尽量睁大眼睛。雨点模糊了他的眼镜。在他为避开布鲁佐球再次凶猛俯冲作倒立飞行时，雨滴钻进了他的鼻子里。他能听到来自人群的笑声；他知道他看起来一定很蠢，但这可恶又笨重的布鲁佐球不让他那么快的改变方向。他开始绕着体育馆的边缘作像云霄飞车般的飞行，透过银色的雨帘眯着眼看格林芬顿的终点线柱，亚尼那正在那试图飞越伍德。 　　一声呼啸传到哈利耳里，他知道布鲁佐球刚刚又与他擦身而过；他向左翻转，跟着急速飞向相反方向。 　　“练习芭蕾吗，波特？”当哈利被迫在空中手忙脚乱地作旋转躲开布鲁佐球时，马尔夫大叫。当哈利憎恶地对马尔夫怒目而视时，他看到它了，金色的史尼斯球在马尔夫左耳上方几英寸的地方盘旋——而马尔夫正忙于嘲笑哈利，所以没看到它。 　　在那伤脑筋的时刻，哈利在空中踌躇着。他不敢加速冲向马尔夫，以防他向上望看到史尼斯球。 　　啊！ 　　一秒时间的停留还是太长了。布鲁佐球终于还是打中了他，撞碎了他的手肘。 　　哈利觉得他的手臂都已经断了。他的右臂不起作用地悬垂在一边。布鲁佐球急追而来进行第二次袭击，这一次对准的是他的胸。哈利转了个弯，一个主意牢牢地嵌在他那失去知觉的脑中：靠近马尔夫。 　　穿过雨雾和疼痛，他俯冲向闪烁不定的微光。他看到在他下面那张讥笑的脸，而瞳孔因为害怕而张大了：马尔夫以为哈利要袭击他。 　　“啊——”他倒抽一口凉气，飞驰避过哈利。 　　哈利从扫帚上伸出另一只手，奋力一抓。他觉得他的手指贴紧在冰冷的史尼斯球上面。但现在他只剩下两只脚勾紧扫帚：当他一头直栽下地面，努力挣扎着以免昏厥时，人群中发出了惊叫。 　　随着一声振耳欲聋的砰然巨响，他摔到了泥地上，从扫帚上滚落下来。他的手臂用一个奇怪的角度悬挂着。疼痛淹没了他。他听到好像从遥远的地方传来阵阵哨声和叫喊声混杂的声音，他盯着紧握在手里的史尼斯球。 　　“噢，”他舒了口气，“我们赢了。” 　　然后他就晕了过去。 　　雨点落在他身上，他依然躺在地上，这时有人向他倾下身来，他醒了。他看到的是一排亮晶晶的牙齿。 　　“噢，不，不是你。”他呻吟着。 　　“不知道他在说些什么。”罗克哈特对挤在他旁边紧张的格林芬顿队员大声地说。“别紧张，我来固定你的手臂。” 　　“不！”哈利大叫，“我让它这样就行了，谢谢……” 　　他试着要坐起来，但无奈疼痛难忍。这时，他听到一声熟悉的咋嚓声。 　　“我不要这样拍照，柯林。”他大声地说。 　　“躺回去，哈利，”罗克哈特劝慰地说，“这是一个简单的魔法，我只需很少时间。” 　　“为什么我就不能去医院？”哈利咬着牙问。 　　“他真得去，教授。”浑身泥泞的伍德说：尽管他的搜索者受了伤，他还是忍不住咧着嘴笑了。“伟大的胜利，哈利。实在太精彩了。你是最棒的，我说。”   　透过像灌木丛一样围在他周围的腿，哈利发现弗来德和乔治正奋力把那恶毒的布鲁佐球塞进箱子，而它仍在挣扎想作那令人恐怖的飞行。 　　“躺下去。”罗克哈特边说边卷起他那翠绿色的袖子。 　　“不——别——”哈利虚弱地说，但罗克哈特正在旋动他的魔杖，一秒后已经引着它直接对准哈利的手臂了。 　　一种奇怪而不愉快的感觉开始从哈利的肩膀蔓延到他的指尖。 　　好像他的手臂正在缩小。他不敢去看发生了什么事。他闭上了眼睛，转过脸不敢对着他的手。但当人们倒抽一口冷气，柯林开始拼命地按动快门时，他的恐惧到了极点。他的手臂不再受伤了——但感觉起来不再像是一只手。 　　“啊，”罗克哈特说：“那有时是会发生的。但重点在于，骨头不再是破碎的了。人们应该留意到这点。哈利让人搀扶着去医院吧。 　　啊，威斯里先生，格兰佐小姐，你们来帮忙护送他一下好吗？——波姆弗雷夫人也行——呃——把他弄得整齐点。“当哈利开始迈步时，他觉得异常不平衡。深深吸了口气，他看问他的右边。他看到的几乎令他再次昏倒。 　他的长袍下面露出的是一个看起来厚厚的，像肉色的橡皮手套的东西。他试着动一动他的手指，但什么也没发生。 　　罗克哈特并没有治好哈利的骨头。他移动了它，波姆弗雷夫人很不高兴。 　　“你应该直接来找我的！”她暴怒了，抓起那个可怜的人在半小时前还活动自如的手臂。“我能在一秒内医好这骨头——问题是得让他们长回去——” 　　“你能行的，是吗？”哈利绝望地问。 　　“我当然能行，但你会痛苦些。”波姆弗雷夫人忧郁地说，扔给哈利一套睡衣，“你晚上得留在这。” 　　荷米恩在哈利床边拉起的布帘后等着。这时罗恩正在在帮他换睡衣。他费了好一会工夫才把这像橡胶一样的，没了骨头的手臂塞进衣袖里。 　“现在这时候你怎么还能站在罗克哈特那边呢？荷米恩呢？”罗恩隔着布帘说。 　　当他把哈利软绵绵的手指拉出袖口时，“要是哈利不想要骨头了，他自己会先说的。” 　　“任何人都会犯错。”荷米恩说，“再说也不是很严重，不是吗？哈利？” 　　当他摇摇晃晃地躺上床时，他的手臂茫然地晃动着。 　　荷米恩和波姆弗雷夫人走到布帘边。波姆弗雷夫人手里拿着一大瓶标着“助骨长”的东西。 　　“你今晚会难受些，”她说，倒了一杯液体递给他，“骨头再生是一件麻烦事。” 　　他把液体喝了下去。当它人口时，哈利的嘴和喉咙仿佛看了火般，使他又咳又呛，波姆弗雷对罗克哈特这危险的行为和愚蠢啧啧称奇后就离开了，留下罗恩和荷米恩帮哈利。 　　“我们虽然赢了，”罗恩露出牙齿笑了，“但全靠你。马尔夫的脸……他看起来就像要杀人！” 　　“我真想知道他是怎么对布鲁佐球作了手脚。”哈利含糊地说。 　　“我们可以把这加到要问他的问题表上，等我们取得神奇药浆时。”哈利说，躺回他的枕头。“我希望那药尝起来比这玩意好味。” 　　病房的门这时被撞开了，其他格林芬顿的队员都来看望哈利，虽然个个又湿又脏。 　　“难以置信的飞行，哈利，”乔治说。“我刚刚看到史林斯对着马尔夫大发雷霆。因为史尼斯球在他头顶上而他居然一直都没有注意到。马尔夫看起来不怎么高兴。” 　　他们带来了蛋糕，糖，还有几瓶南瓜浆。他们围着哈利的床开始讨论怎么开庆功会。这时，波姆弗雷夫人怒气冲冲地走过来，大叫，“他需要休息，他有三十三根骨头要重长！出去！滚！” 　　哈利只剩下独自一人。没有任何东西来分散他那手臂上传来的阵阵刺痛。 　　几小时后，哈利从黑暗中醒来，疼痛让他忍不住叫了出来：他的手臂现在似乎全都碎了。在那一刻，他认为是疼痛让他醒来的。接着，随着一股恐惧的寒意，他意识到有人在转动着海绵轻拭他的额头。 　　“住手！”他大声地说，接着，他叫起来，“多比！” 　　这房间小精灵那瞪得像网球一样大的眼睛从黑暗中注视着哈利，一滴泪珠从他那长长翘起的鼻子上滑落下来。 　　“哈利。波特回到学校了，”他伤心地低语。“多比一次又一次地警告哈利，啊，先生，为什么你不听多比的话呢？为什么当哈利错过火车的时候他不回家呢？” 　　哈利坐起来靠在枕头上，推开了多比的海绵。 　　“你在这里干什么？”他问，“你怎么知道我错过了火车的？” 　　多比的嘴唇颤抖着。哈利仍然充满怀疑。 　　“是你！”他慢慢地说，“是你阻止我们通过栅栏！” 　　“事实上是的，先生。”多比说，用力点了点头，拍动着耳朵。“多比躲着监视哈利，还封了通路。多比不得不烫伤他的手——他伸出包了绷带的手指给哈利看——但多比不在乎，先生，因为他想到哈利已经安全了。多比从来就没想过哈利会从另一条路回学校！”     他摇晃着他那难看的脑袋，前后摇动着。 　　“多比听到哈利回学校的消息是多么震惊，甚至连主人的午餐都烧坏了！先生……” 　　哈利猛然跌回枕头里。 　　“你差点让我和罗恩被开除，”他粗暴地说。“你最好在我的骨头长全之前消失，多比，不然我可能会掐死你！” 　　多比虚弱地笑了笑。 　　“多比已习惯了死亡威胁，先生。在家时，多比一天可以受到五次这样的威胁。” 　　他用他的鼻子朝他身上那脏兮兮的枕套一角吹了吹气。他看起来是那么的可怜以致于哈利觉得他的怒气一下全消失了。 　　“你为什么穿着那东西？多比。”他好奇地问。 　　“这个吗，先生？”多比扯着枕头，“这是精灵受奴役的标志，先生。 　　只有当主人给我衣服穿时，多比才能自由，这一家人连一双短袜都不给多比，先生，因为那样多比会永远地离开他们家。“多比那鼓出的眼睛作了个怪相，突然说：”哈利一定得回家！多比想他的布鲁佐球一定足够……” 　　“你的布鲁佐球？”哈利说，再一次燃起怒火。“你说什么？你的布鲁佐球？ 　　你试图让布鲁佐球来杀我？” 　　“不是杀你，先生，从来没有！”多比震惊地说。“多比只想挽救哈利的生命！ 　　最好还是回家，严重地受伤，比呆在这儿也好，先生！多比只想让哈利受了伤被送回家！” 　　“哦，说完了？”哈利愤怒地说：“我不指望你告诉我为什么你希望我变成碎片被送回家！” 　　“啊，要是哈利知道的话！”多比痛苦地叫着，更多的泪水跌落到他那破旧的枕套上。“如果他知道他对我们这些低等的、被奴役的魔界的废物意味着什么！多比记得当‘那个人’在权力顶峰时，先生！ 　　我们这些小精灵被看作讨人厌的害虫，先生。当然多比现在还是被这样看待，先生，“他承认，用枕套擦掉眼泪，”但很大程度的，自从你战胜了‘那个人’后，我的生活有了提高，哈利存在，而黑暗巫师的力量被推翻了。这是一个新的黎明，先生，对我们这些以为黑暗不会有尽头的可怜虫来说，哈利像灯塔一样照耀着我们，让一切充满了希望。先生，现在，在霍格瓦彻，可怕的事将要发生或已经发生了。 　　多比不能让先生留在这里。历史将要重演，既然秘室的秘密将要再次打开——“多比呆住了，吓得动都不动，接着迅速抓起哈利床边的水壶，重重击在他自己头上，摇摇欲坠地叹了口气。不一会，他爬上床，斜视着眼，咕哝着：”坏多比，很坏的多比……” 　　“就是说有神秘秘室了？”哈利悄悄地说。“那——你是说它以前曾打开过？告诉我，多比！” 　　他抓住这小精灵皮包骨头的手腕——当多比的手一点点伸向水壶的时候。“但我不是马格出身的人——我怎么会因神秘秘室而处于危险中呢？” 　　“啊，先生，别再问了，别再问可怜的多比了，”小精灵结结巴巴地说，他的眼睛在黑暗里显得特别大，“神秘的事件就是在这个地方被计划的，但哈利在它们发生时一定不会在这里了。回家吧，哈利回家。哈利不应该介入其中的，先生。这太危险了——” 　　“是谁，多比？”哈利紧紧抓着多比的手腕以防他再用水壶打自己的头。“谁打开它？上一次是谁打开它？” 　　“多比不能说，先生。多比不能说，多比不能说！”小精灵尖叫起来，“哈利，回家。哈利，回家吧。” 　　“我哪也不去！”哈利粗暴地说，“我一个好朋友是马格出身的人，如果秘室真的被打开过，她将是第一个被列在名单上的——” 　　“哈利为了他的朋友而拿自己的生命冒险！”多比悲叹，伤心而恍惚。“多么不凡啊！多么勇敢啊！但他必须救他自己，他必须，哈利不能——” 　　多比忽然间僵住了，他那蝙蝠耳朵抖动着。哈利也听到了。外面有脚步声沿着通道走下来。 　　“多比必须走了！”小精灵吸了一口气，说完便跑了。哈利的拳头忽然间握得紧紧的，他躺回枕头上去。当那脚步声越来越近时，他的眼睛紧紧盯着病房那黑乎乎的门口。 　不一会，丹伯多来到了病房，他穿着一件长羊毛长袍，戴着一顶睡帽，他抬着一个看似雕像的东西的头。麦康娜教授出现在后面，抬着那东西的脚。他们一起把它放到了床上。 　　“叫波姆弗雷夫人，”丹伯多悄悄地说，然后麦康娜教授匆匆忙忙跑了出去，哈利静静地躺在那就像睡着了一般。他听到很紧急的声音，接着麦康娜教授大汗淋漓地跑回来，紧跟着波姆弗雷夫人，她正把开襟毛衣往身上套，他听到一声尖细的吸气声。 　　“发生什么事了？”波姆弗雷夫人向床上的雕像俯下身去，一边低声问丹伯多。 　　“另一次袭击，”丹伯多说，“米娜在楼梯上发现了他。” 　　“这有一串葡萄，”麦康娜教授说，“我们认为他正想偷偷进来探望哈利。” 　　这时哈利的胃可怕地痉挛着。他慢慢地，小心翼翼地撑起来以便看到床上的雕像。月光洒在它显眼的脸上。 　　是柯林，他的眼睛张大着，手紧拢在胸前，手里还抓着相机。 　　“吓坏了？”波姆弗雷悄悄地说。 　　“是的，”麦康娜说，“但我不敢去想……要是艾伯斯没有去取热巧克力的，谁知道会有什么……” 　　他们三人盯着柯林看。接着丹伯多倾向柯林把相机从他的紧握中拽出来。 　　“你不会认为他想拍下偷袭者的照片吧？”麦康娜教授急切地问。 　　丹伯多没有回答。他撬开相机的后部。 　　“太有同情心了。”波姆弗雷太太说。 　　相机中嘶嘶地冒出一股气体。哈利在距离三个床位远的地方闻到了烧塑料的酸味。 　　“熔化了，”波姆弗雷太太不解地说，“全化了……” 　　“这说明什么，艾伯斯？”麦康娜教授激动地问。 　　“这说明，”丹伯多说，“秘室之谜确实再次打开了。” 　　波姆弗雷太太用手掩住了嘴巴。麦康娜教授盯着丹伯多。 　　“但是艾伯斯……确定……谁……了？” 　“问题不在于是谁，”丹伯多说，他的眼睛注视着柯林，“问题是怎么……” 　　看到麦康娜教授迷糊的脸时，哈利知道她了解的并不比他多。 
Chapter 11 The Dueling Club
Harry woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and his arm reboned but very stiff. He sat up quickly and looked over at Colin's bed, but it had been blocked from view by the high curtains Harry had changed behind yesterday. Seeing that he was awake, Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a breakfast tray and then began bending and stretching his arm and fingers.“All in order,” she said as he clumsily fed himself porridge left-handed. “When you've finished eating, you may leave.”Harry dressed as quickly as he could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ron and Hermione about Colin and Dobby, but they weren't there. Harry left to look for them, wondering where they could have got to and feeling slightly hurt that they weren't interested in whether he had his bones back or not.As Harry passed the library, Percy Weasley strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than last time they'd met.“Oh, hello, Harry,” he said. “Excellent flying yesterday, really excellent. Gryffindor has just taken the lead for the House Cup - you earned fifty points!”“You haven't seen Ron or Hermione, have you?” said Harry.“No, I haven't,” said Percy, his smile fading. “I hope Ron's not in another girls'toilet …”Harry forced a laugh, watched Percy walk out of sight, and then headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He couldn't see why Ron and Hermione would be in there again, but after making sure that neither Filch nor any prefects were around, he opened the door and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.“It's me,” he said, closing the door behind him. There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and he saw Hermione's eye peering through the keyhole.`Harry!” she said. “You gave us such a fright - come in. How's your arm?”“Fine,” said Harry, squeezing into the stall. An old cauldron was perched on the toilet, and a crackling from under the rim told Harry they had lit a fire beneath it. Conjuring up portable, waterproof fires was a speciality of Hermione's.“We'd've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion,” Ron explained as Harry, with difficulty, locked the stall again. “We've decided this is the safest place to hide it.”Harry started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted.“We already know - we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get going—”“The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better,” snarled Ron. “D'you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin.”“There's something else,” said Harry, watching Hermione tearing bundles of knotgrass and throwing them into the potion. “Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night.”Ron and Hermione looked up, amazed. Harry told them everything Dobby had told him - or hadn't told him. Hermione and Ron listened with their mouths open.“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?” Hermione said.“This settles it,” said Ron in a triumphant voice. “Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school.”“Maybe it can make itself invisible,” said Hermione, prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. “Or maybe it can disguise itself - pretend to be a suit of armor or something - I've read about Chameleon Ghouls—”“You read too much, Hermione,” said Ron, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. He crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked at Harry.“So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm.” He shook his head. “You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you.”The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the other Gryffindor boys pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pure-blood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.“They went for Filch first,” Neville said, his round face fearful. “And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib.”In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Harry, Ron, and Hermione signed her list; they had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very suspicious. The holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him.Unfortunately, the potion was only half finished. They still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only place they were going to get them was from Snape's private stores. Harry privately felt he'd rather face Slytherin's legendary monster than let Snape catch him robbing his office.“What we need,” said Hermione briskly as Thursday afternoon's double Potions lesson loomed nearer, “is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need.” Harry and Ron looked at her nervously.“I think I'd better do the actual stealing,” Hermione continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “You two will be expelled if you get into any more trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so.”Harry smiled feebly. Deliberately causing mayhem in Snape's Potions class was about as safe as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. Thursday afternoon's lesson proceeded in the usual way. Twenty cauldrons stood steaming between the wooden desks, on which stood brass scales and jars of ingredients. Snape prowled through the fumes, making waspish remarks about the Gryffindors'work while the Slytherins sniggered appreciatively. Draco Malfoy, who was Snape's favorite student, kept flicking puffer-fish eyes at Ron and Harry, who knew that if they retaliated they would get detention faster than you could say “Unfair.”Harry's Swelling Solution was far too runny, but he had his mind on more important things. He was waiting for Hermione's signal, and he hardly listened as Snape paused to sneer at his watery potion. When Snape turned and walked off to bully Neville, Hermione caught Harry's eye and nodded.Harry ducked swiftly down behind his cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of his pocket, and gave it a quick prod with his wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. Knowing he had only seconds, Harry straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron.Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and his nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, his hands over his eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate - Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Harry saw Hermione slip quietly into Snape's office.“Silence! SILENCE!” Snape roared. “Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft - when I find out who did this—”Harry tried not to laugh as he watched Malfoy hurry forward, his head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon. As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, some weighted down with arms like clubs, others unable to talk through gigantic puffed-up lips, Harry saw Hermione slide back into the dungeon, the front of her robes bulging.When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.“If I ever find out who threw this,” Snape whispered, “I shall make sure that person is expelled.”Harry arranged his face into what he hoped was a puzzled expression. Snape was looking right at him, and the bell that rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome.“He knew it was me,” Harry told Ron and Hermione as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. “I could tell.”Hermione threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly.“It'll be ready in two weeks,” she said happily.“Snape can't prove it was you,” said Ron reassuringly to Harry. “What can he do?”“Knowing Snape, something foul,” said Harry as the potion frothed and bubbled.A week later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.“They're starting a Dueling Club!” said Seamus. “First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days…”“What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?” said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest.“Could be useful,” he said to Harry and Hermione as they went into dinner. “Shall we go?”Harry and Hermione were all for it, so at eight o'clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school eemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.“I wonder who'll be teaching us?” said Hermione as they edged into the chattering crowd. “Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young - maybe it'll be him.”“As long as it's not -” Harry began, but he ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called “Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!“Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions - for full details, see my published works.“Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. “He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry - you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!”“Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?” Ron muttered in Harry's ear.Snape's upper lip was curling. Harry wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at him like that he'd have been running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.“As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,” Lockhart told the silent crowd. “On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.”“I wouldn't bet on that,” Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.“One - two - three—”Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. “Do you think he's all right?” she squealed through her fingers.“Who cares?” said Harry and Ron together.Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.“Well, there you have it!” he said, tottering back onto the platform. “That was a Disarming Charm - as you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown - yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy - however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…”Snape was looking murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, “Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me—”They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first.“Time to split up the dream team, I think,” he sneered. “Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter—”Harry moved automatically toward Hermione.“I don't think so,” said Snape, smiling coldly. “Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger - you can partner Miss Bulstrode.”Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked a Slytherin girl who reminded Harry of a picture he'd seen in Holidays with Hags. She was large and square and her heavy jaw jutted aggressively. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.“Face your partners!” called Lockhart, back on the platform. “And bow!”Hrry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.“Wands at the ready!” shouted Lockhart. “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - only to disarm them - we don't want any accidents - one … two … three—”Harry swung his wand high, but Malfoy had already started on “two": His spell hit Harry so hard he felt as though he'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. He stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, ” Rictusempra! ”A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.“I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing. Harry hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to bewitch Malfoy while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake; gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, choked, ” Tarantallegra!” and the next second Harry's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.“Stop! Stop!” screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. “Finite Incantatem!” he shouted; Harry's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor. Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult: She was a lot bigger than he was.“Dear, dear,” said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. “Up you go, Macmillan…”“Careful there, Miss Fawcett… Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second,”“I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells,” said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. “Let's have a volunteer pair - Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you—”“A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,” said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. “Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.” Neville's round, pink face went pinker. “How about Malfoy and Potter?” said Snape with a twisted smile.“Excellent idea!” said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.“Now, Harry,” said Lockhart. “When Draco points his wand at you, you do this.”He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, “Whoops - my wand is a little overexcited—”Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, “Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?”“Scared?” muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.“You wish,” said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. “Just do what I did, Harry!”“What, drop my wand?”But Lockhart wasn't listening.“Three - two - one - go!” he shouted.Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, ” Serpensortia!”The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.“Don't move, Potter,” said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. “I'll get rid of it…”“Allow me!” shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even aware of deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him forward as though he was on casters and that he had shouted stupidly at the snake, “Leave him alone!” And miraculously - inexplicably - the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry. Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn't have explained.He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful - but certainly not angry and scared.“What do you think you're playing at?” he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Then he felt a tugging on the back of his robes.“Come on,” said Ron's voice in his ear. “Move - come on—”Ron steered him out of the hall, Hermione hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn't have a clue what was going on, and neither Ron nor Hermione explained anything until they had dragged him all the way up to the empty Gryffindor common room.Then Ron pushed Harry into an armchair and said, “You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?”“I'm a what?” said Harry.`A Parselmouth!” said Ron. “You can talk to snakes!”“I know,” said Harry. “I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once - long story - but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to that was before I knew I was a wizard—”“A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?” Ron repeated faintly.“So?” said Harry. “I bet loads of people here can do it.”“Oh, no they can't,” said Ron. “It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad.”“What's bad?” said Harry, starting to feel quite angry. “What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin—”“Oh, that's what you said to it?”“What d'you mean? You were there - you heard me—”“I heard you speaking Parseltongue,” said Ron. “Snake language. You could have been saying anything - no wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something - it was creepy, you know—”Harry gaped at him.“I spoke a different language? But - I didn't realize - how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?”Ron shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Harry couldn't see what was so terrible.“D'you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin's head?” he said. “What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?”“It matters,” said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, “because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent.”Harry's mouth fell open.“Exactly,” said Ron. “And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something—”“But I'm not,” said Harry, with a panic he couldn't quite explain.“You'll find that hard to prove,” said Hermione. “He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be.”Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered…Could he be a descendant of Salazar Slithering? He didn't know anything about his father's family, after all. The Dursleys had always forbidden questions about his wizarding relatives.Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn't come. It seemed he had to be face-to-face with a snake to do it.But I'm in Gryffindor, Harry thought. The Sorting Hat wouldn't have put me in here if I had Slytherin blood…Ah, said a nasty little voice in his brain, but the Sorting Hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, don't you remember?Harry turned over. He'd see Justin the next day in Herbology and he'd explain that he'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which (he thought angrily, pummeling his pillow) any fool should have realized.By next morning, however, the snow that had begun in the night had turned into a blizzard so thick that the last Herbology lesson of the term was canceled: Professor Sprout wanted to fit socks and scarves on the Mandrakes, a tricky operation she would entrust to no one else, now that it was so important for the Mandrakes to grow quickly and revive Mrs. Norris and Colin Creevey.Harry fretted about this next to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Ron and Hermione used their time off to play a game of wizard chess.“For heaven's sake, Harry,” said Hermione, exasperated, as one of Ron's bishops wrestled her knight off his horse and dragged him off the board. “Go and find Justin if it's so important to you.”So Harry got up and left through the portrait hole, wondering where Justin might be.The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because of the thick, swirling gray snow at every window. Shivering, Harry walked past classrooms where lessons were taking place, catching snatches of what was happening within. Professor McGonagall was shouting at someone who, by the sound of it, had turned his friend into a badger. Resisting the urge to take a look, Harry walked on by, thinking that Justin might be using his free time to catch up on some work, and deciding to check the library first.A group of the Hufliepuffs who should have been in Herbology were indeed sitting at the back of the library, but they didn't seem to be working. Between the long lines of high bookshelves, Harry could see that their heads were close together and they were having what looked like an absorbing conversation. He couldn't see whether Justin was among them. He was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met his ears, and he paused to listen, hidden in the Invisibility section.“So anyway,” a stout boy was saying, “I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as his next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. Justin actually told him he'd been down for Eton. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?”“You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?” said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.“Hannah,” said the stout boy solemnly, “he's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue.”There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on, “Remember what was written on the wall? Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Flich's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter at the Quidditch match, taking pictures of him while he was lying in the mud. Next thing we know - Creevey's been attacked.”“He always seems so nice, though,” said Hannah uncertainly, “and, well, he's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear. He can't be all bad, can he?”Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously, the Hufflepuffs bent closer, and Harry edged nearer so that he could catch Ernie's words.“No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. He should have been blasted into smithereens. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that.” He dropped his voice until it was barely more than a whisper, and said, “That's probably why You- Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn't want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter's been hiding?”Harry couldn't take anymore. Clearing his throat loudly, he stepped out from behind the bookshelves. If he hadn't been feeling so angry, he would have found the sight that greeted him funny: Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been Petrified by the sight of him, and the color was draining out of Ernie's face.“Hello,” said Harry. “I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley.”The Hufflepuffs'worst fears had clearly been confirmed. They all looked fearfully at Ernie.“What do you want with him?” said Ernie in a quavering voice.“I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club,” said Harry.Ernie bit his white lips and then, taking a deep breath, said, “We were all there. We saw what happened.”“Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?” said Harry.“All I saw,” said Ernie stubbornly, though he was trembling as he spoke, “was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin.”“I didn't chase it at him!” Harry said, his voice shaking with anger. “It didn't even touch him!”“It was a very near miss,” said Ernie. “And in case you're getting ideas,” he added hastily, “I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's, so—”“- I don't care what sort of blood you've got!” said Harry fiercely. “Why would I want to attack Muggle-borns?”“I've heard you hate those Muggles you live with,” said Ernie swiftly.“It's not possible to live with the Dursleys and not hate them,” said Harry. “I'd like to see you try it.”He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library, earning himself a reproving glare from Madam Pince, who was polishing the gilded cover of a large spellbook.Harry blundered up the corridor, barely noticing where he was going, he was in such a fury. The result was that he walked into something very large and solid, which knocked him backward onto the floor.“Oh, hello, Hagrid,” Harry said, looking up.Hagrid's face was entirely hidden by a woolly, snow-covered balaclava, but it couldn't possibly be anyone else, as he filled most of the corridor in his moleskin overcoat. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.“All righ', Harry?” he said, pulling up the balaclava so he could speak. “Why aren't yeh in class?”“Canceled,” said Harry, getting up. “What're you doing in here?”Hagrid held up the limp rooster.“Second one killed this term,” he explained. “It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin Bugbear, an'I need the Headmaster's permission ter put a charm around the hen coop.”He peered more closely at Harry from under his thick, snowflecked eyebrows.“Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all hot an'bothered—”Harry couldn't bring himself to repeat what Ernie and the rest of the Hufflepuffs had been saying about him.“It's nothing,” he said. “Id better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books.”He walked off, his mind still full of what Ernie had said about him.“Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born…”Harry stamped up the stairs and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark; the torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft that was blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor.He turned to squint at what he'd fallen over and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.It was Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He lookedwildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.He could run, and no one would ever know he had been there. But he couldn't just leave them lying here… He had to get help… Would anyone believe he hadn't had anything to do with this?As he stood there, panicking, a door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.“Why, it's potty wee Potter!” cackled Peeves, knocking Harry's glasses askew as he bounced past him. “What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking—”Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry could stop him, screamed, “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!”Crash - crash - crash - door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Justin was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Harry found himself pinned against the wall as the teachers shouted for quiet. Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom still had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.“Caught in the act!” Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry.“That will do, Macmillan!” said Professor McGonagall sharply.Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene; Peeves always loved chaos. As the teachers bent over Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song:“Oh, Potter, you rotter, oh, what have you done, You're killing off'students, you think it's good fun—”“That's enough Peeves!” barked Professor McGonagall, and Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry.Justin was carried up to the hospital wing by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, but nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick. In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Harry and Professor McGonagall alone together.“This way, Potter,” she said.“Professor,” said Harry at once, “I swear I didn't—”“This is out of my hands, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall curtly.They marched in silence around a corner and she stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.“Lemon drop!” she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind him split in two. Even full of dread for what was coming, Harry couldn't fail to be amazed. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. As he and Professor McGonagall stepped onto it, Harry heard the wall thud closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, slightly dizzy, Harry saw a gleaming oak door ahead, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.He knew now where he was being taken. This must be where Dumbledore lived.星期六早上，哈利醒来时发现病房里闪耀着冬天的阳光，而他的手也重新长出了骨头，只是仍很僵硬。他一下子就坐起来，看向柯林的床，但它已经被重重的布帘围了起来，什么也看不到了。看到他醒了，波姆弗雷夫人急急忙忙地托来一盘早餐，接着开始弯下腰帮他舒展手臂和指头。 
　　“全部都很顺利，”她说。在他用左手笨拙地喂食麦片时，“你吃完就可以离开了。” 
　　哈利用尽可能快的速度穿上衣服就赶往格林芬顿塔，他迫不急待要把柯林和多比的事告诉罗思和荷米恩，但是他们都不在。哈利出去寻找他们，一边想着他们会去什么地方，一边又觉得有点难受，因为他们竟然对他的骨头是否长了回去的事显得漠不关心。 
　　当哈利经过图书馆时，伯希正从里面闲逛出来，气色看起来比他们上一次见面时好得多。 
　　“噢，你好，哈利，”他说，“精彩的飞行，昨天。实在太棒了，格林芬顿已经朝着最佳学院杯前进了——你得了50分！” 
　　“你见到罗恩和荷米恩没有？”哈利问。 
　　“没有，我没见到他们。”伯希说，他的微笑渐渐褪去了，“我希望罗恩不在另一个女孩子的洗手间里……” 
　　哈利挤出一个笑容，然后看着伯希消失在视野中，他直接朝呻吟的麦托勒的厕所走去。他不知道为什么罗恩和荷米恩还会再去那个地方，但在确定费驰不在周围后，他打开门，听到他们的声音从那锁着的小室里传出来。 
　　“是我，”他说着关上了身后的门。洗手间里传来水溅泼的声音和吃惊的抽气声，他接着看到荷米恩正盯着他。 
　　“哈利！”她说，“你吓死我们了。进来——你的手怎样了？” 
　　“没事了，”哈利边说边挤进洗手间，厕所里挂着一只破旧的大锅，边缘上有一道裂缝。荷米恩在它下面燃起了火。用魔法变出轻便又防水的火是荷米恩的专长。 
　　“我们想去找你，但我们决定还是先开始着手神奇药浆的事。”罗恩解释说，在哈利费了很大劲锁上门时。“我们认为这是藏它的最安全的地方了。” 
　　哈利开始告诉他们关于柯林的事，但荷米恩打断了他。“我们已经知道了。我们早上听到麦康娜教授告诉弗特卫教授。这就是为什么我们决定开始动手的原因——” 
　　“我们越快让马尔夫承认越好，”罗恩咆哮着说，“难道你不知道我在想什么吗？自从快迪斯比赛后，他的脾气变得越来越恶劣，他会发泄在柯林身上了——” 
　　“还有别的。”哈利说，看着荷米恩把一捆一捆的纠结草撕了扔到药汤里去。 
　　“多比在半夜时跑来看我。” 
　　罗恩和荷米恩惠外地抬起了头。哈利把多比说的每一件事都告诉了他们——包括他没说的。罗恩和荷米恩嘴巴张得大大地听着。 
　　“秘室之谜以前被打开过？”荷米恩问。 
　　“这解决了问题。”罗恩用一种胜利的语气说。“马尔夫的父亲在学校时一定打开过它。现在他告诉亲爱的马尔夫怎么做，很明显，他很希望多比告诉你里面有个怎么样的东西。我想知道的是为什么多比潜伏在学校附近，而居然没有一个人注意到？” 
　　“可能它自身是我们肉眼看不到的，”荷米恩说，把蚂蟥捅到锅底，“又或者它自身能伪装成别的东西——扮成一套盔甲或别的什么。我读过《变身食尸者》……” 
　　“你书看得太多了，荷米恩。”罗恩边说边把透明翅倒到蚂蟥上面。 
　　“这么说多比阻止我们上火车并且打断了你的手……”他摇了摇头，“哈利，你知道什么？要是他不停止了救你的行动，他会杀了你的。” 
　　到星期一早上，柯林遭到袭击，现在躺在医院濒临死亡的消息在全校传开了。 
　　空气忽然因为谣言和怀疑变得沉重起来，一年级的学生现在正集中成群地向城堡转移，似乎为防止他们独自行动时会遭到袭击。 
　　金妮坐在柯林旁边，心神烦乱不安。哈利觉得弗来德和乔治逗她开心的方法似乎不大有用，他们轮流披上毛皮，然后从雕像后面朝着她跳出来。气得伯希暴怒得几乎说不出话，说他正在打算写信给妈妈，告诉她金妮正处于噩运中时，他们才总算停了下来。 
　　同时，瞒着老师们，学校里正在热火朝天地进行着护身符、平安符和其他护身物品的买卖。尼维尔买了一个大大的、味道怪异的绿洋葱，一个紫色的凸水晶和一条腐朽的水蜥尾巴，在这之前，格林芬顿的男孩子们都说他不会有危险：因为他是纯血统的，所以不大可能被袭击。 
　　“他们会先找费驰，”尼维尔说，他那圆脸上写满恐惧，“每个人都知道他是个史愧伯。” 
　　在十二月份的第二个星期，麦康娜教授照例收取圣诞节留校学生的名单。哈利、荷米恩和罗恩都在她的名单上签了名；他们听说马尔夫也留下来，这让他们非常怀疑。但假期将是使用神圣药浆，慢慢让他说出一切的最佳时间。 
　　不走运的是，药只完成了一半。他们还需要双角兽的角和本斯兰的皮肤，而他们唯一能取得这些东西的地方，就是史纳皮的私人储藏室了。哈利觉得他宁愿去面对史林德林传说中的怪兽，也好过被史纳皮当场抓住。 
　　“我们需要的，”荷米恩在星期四下午两节药剂用量课来临前急切地说，“是分头行动。这样我们其中一个就能潜进史纳皮的办公室，取得我们所需的东西。” 
　　哈利和罗恩地看着她。 
　　“我想最好还是我来偷，”荷米恩继续一副实事求是的模样。“你们要是惹麻烦就会被开除，而我从来没有不良记录。所以你们要做的就是故意制造一些混乱让史纳皮忙上至少5分钟。” 
　　哈利惨然地地笑了。故意在史纳皮的课上制造混乱就跟去拨弄睡龙的眼睛没两样。 
　　药剂课在一间大办公室里上。星期四下午的课进程和平时一样。二十个大锅在木桌上放成一排，上面放着黄铜尺和装药料的罐子。史纳皮在烟雾中踱着步，尖刻地讥讽着格林芬顿的学生，而当格林芬顿在工作时，史林德林的人却在一旁等着看笑话。马尔夫——史纳皮最喜欢的学生，不时朝罗恩和哈利眨眨眼。他知道要是他们敢报复的话，他们会在来不及喊“不公平”之前就被罚禁烟。 
　　哈利对肿大溶液最有兴趣。但现在他脑子里有更重要的事。他正在等荷米思的讯号，当史纳皮停下来讥笑他那无味的药时，他几乎没有听到。在史纳皮转过身去羞辱尼维尔时，荷米恩对哈利使了个眼色，点了点头。 
　　哈利在他的汽锅后急速低下身子，从口袋里拉出一个弗来德的鞭炮并用魔杖迅速点燃。鞭炮开始发出嘶嘶和劈劈啪啪的声音。哈利知道他只有一秒钟的时间。他站起来，对准目标扔了出去；它正好落在马尔夫的汽锅里。 
　　马尔夫的药汤爆开了，溅得满教室。人们尖叫连连，仿佛肿大溶液溅到了他们。 
　　马尔夫面色发青，他的鼻子开始像汽球一样肿起来；高尔到处跌跌撞撞，用手掩住眼睛。正当史纳皮在竭力恢复安静并想看看发生什么事时，马尔夫一头撞到了餐碟上。在一片混乱中，哈利看到荷米恩偷偷溜出了门。 
　　“安静！安静！”史纳皮咆哮着，“被溅到的人到这来敷药。要是我发现是谁干的好事……” 
　　当哈利看到马尔夫顶着那肿得像甜瓜一样的鼻子垂着头急急跑上前时，他差点就忍不住笑了。班里的一大半人都涌上了史纳皮的课台。有的人手臂肿得像棍棒，抬不起来；有的嘴唇肿得话都讲不清楚。这时哈利看到荷米恩溜回来了。 
　　当每个人都喝下解毒剂，吃了消肿药后，史纳皮走到马尔夫的药锅旁，起了鞭炮爆炸后剩下的一团黑黑的东西。忽然间周围一片寂静。 
　　“要是我知道这是谁扔的，”史纳皮沉声说，“我一定会开除这个人。” 
　　哈利装出一脸迷惑不解的样子。史纳皮正盯着他看。10分钟后响起了铃声，这对他而言简直是一种莫大的安慰。 
　　“他知道是我干的，”哈利对罗恩和荷米恩说，在他们赶回呻吟的麦托勒的厕所小间的路上，“我确定。” 
　　荷米恩把新的材料扔进锅里，并开始加热。 
　　“两星期内就能准备好。”她高兴地说。 
　　“史纳皮无法证明是你干的，”罗恩肯定地对哈利说，“他能做什么？” 
　　“他是很险恶的。”哈利说，看着药汤冒着泡。 
　　一星期后，当哈利，罗恩和荷米思穿过入场大厅时，他们看到一群人挤在布告栏前看着一张刚贴上去的通知。期瓦诺斯和达恩招手叫他们过去，一脸兴奋。 
　　“格斗俱乐部就要开始了！”期瓦诺斯说，“今晚第一次集会！我可不介意格斗课，它们可以随时……” 
　　“什么？你认为史林德林那帮怪物会格斗？”罗恩也感兴趣地看着布告。 
　　“能派上用场，”吃饭的时候他对哈利和荷米恩说，“我们也去吗？” 
　　哈利和荷米恩都表示赞成，所以那天晚上八点他们就赶回了大礼堂。长长的餐桌不见了，取而代之的是靠墙的一个金光闪闪的舞台，上面点着上千支蜡烛，天花板上是深紫色的，似乎整个训练班的人都被包裹在下面，他们都满脸兴奋，带着魔杖。 
　　“我想知道是谁教我们？”当他们走近叽叽喳喳的人群时，荷米恩说，“有人告诉我弗立特教授年轻时是格斗冠军，说不定就是他。” 
　　“就像……”哈利忽然痛苦地叫了一声，他看见罗克哈特教授走上了舞台，穿着他最好的长袍，旁边是史纳皮，穿着他平时的黑袍。 
　　罗克哈特挥手示意人们安静下来，他叫道：“集中，集中到一起！ 
　　你们每个人都能看到我吗？都能听到我吗？好极了！”“现在，丹伯多教授已经同意我开设格斗俱乐部，来训练你们，以备你们有需要自我防卫的时候，就像我无数次——关于细节，可以在我的著作里看到。” 
　　“让我介绍我的助手史纳皮教授，”罗克哈特说，露出一个大笑容，“他告诉我他自己对格斗懂得不少，并答应在我们开始之前提供一些暂时的帮助，现在，我不想让你们这帮年轻人担心——你们仍将拥有你们的药剂学老师，当我穿透他时。——别怕！” 
　　“他们互相把对方结果了岂不更好？”罗恩对哈利嘀咕。 
　　史纳皮的上唇紧抿着。哈利很想知道罗克哈特为什么还能微笑；要是史纳皮那样看着他，他早吓得落荒而逃了。 
　　罗克哈特和史纳皮相互鞠了个躬。而后史纳皮愤怒地挺着头。 
　　接着他们将各自的魔杖像剑～样举在前面。 
　　“就像你们看到的我们用这种战斗的姿势举着魔杖，”罗克哈特告诉沉默的人群。“数到‘三’的时候，我们就会开始第一个符咒，当然我们的目的不是为了杀死对方。” 
　　“我可不大相信。”哈利咕哝道，看着史纳皮露出他的牙齿。 
　　他们两个人同时在肩膀上挥舞着魔杖，史纳皮大叫一声：“依斯毕利艾玛斯！” 
　　一阵令人目眩神迷的红光闪过，罗克哈特的脚中了符咒：他飞回舞台一头撞进墙里，墙被撞倒，在地板上跌得粉碎。 
　　马尔夫和其他的史林德林学生们欢呼起来。荷米恩急得欢呼起来。荷米恩急得直跺脚尖。“你觉得他还好吧？”她的手指发出嘎吱嘎吱的声音。 
　　“谁管他呢？”哈利和罗恩异口同声地说。 
　　罗克哈特步履不稳。他的帽子掉了，一头曲发都竖立起来。 
　　“喔，你赢了！”他说，摇摇摆摆地走到讲台前面。“这就是夺刃魔法——就像你们看到的，我丢了我的魔杖——啊，谢谢，布朗小姐。 
　　是的，演示一下是个好主意，史纳皮教授。但如果你不介意的话，我想说其实我清楚你想干什么。我要是想制止你的话简直易如反掌。 
　　但是，我觉得让他们看一看是很有指导……“史纳皮看看起来一脸严酷。罗克哈特大概也注意到了，因为他说，”行了！我现在就把你们分成两人一组。史纳皮教授，假如你愿意来帮我的话……” 
　　他们一边穿过人群穿，一边分组，罗克哈特把尼维尔和贾斯丁分在一起，而史纳皮首先来到哈利和罗恩面前。 
　　“到时间分开这对梦幻组合了，我想。”他嘲讽着。“威斯里，你和芬尼更搭档，波特——” 
　　哈利自动朝荷米恩移动脚步。 
　　“我可不同意，”史纲皮冷冷地微笑着。“马尔夫先生，过来。让我们看看你和著名的波特能搭配成什么。你，格兰佐小姐——你和米丽森小姐一组。” 
　　马尔夫神气十足地走过来，得意洋洋地笑了。在他后面走过来的一个史林德林女孩子，让哈利想起一副在《丑老婆和假日》里的画。 
　　她又高又壮，厚厚的下巴好斗地伸着。荷米恩给了她一个谦虚的微笑，她却理都不理。 
　　“面向你的拍档！”罗克哈特叫了起来，回到讲台上，“鞠躬！” 
　　哈利和马尔夫紧盯着对方，头却不肯低下。 
　　“准备好魔杖！”罗克哈特大喊，“当我数到‘三’时，开始练咒语解除对方的兵器——只要解除兵器就行了——我们不想发生任何意外事件。—……二……三……” 
　　哈利在肩上舞动他的魔杖，但马尔夫在念到“二”时就已经开始了，他的符咒击中了哈利，让他觉得头上好像被一个长柄锅狠狠敲了一下。他跌倒了，但一切看起来都还正常。哈利看准时机，用魔杖指住马尔夫大叫一声：“瑞塔森皮拉！” 
　　一束银光打中马尔夫的肚子，他急弯了起来，喘气连连。 
　　“我说只是解除武器！”当马尔夫弯着膝盖倒下去时，罗克哈特在混战的人群头顶上大声警告。哈利犹豫着要不要回去，他强烈感觉到当马尔夫倒在地上时，对他使魔法可就不那么好了。但他错了。 
　　马尔夫喘着气，用魔杖指住哈利的膝盖，拼命憋出一个词：“塔安塔勒哥拉！” 
　　哈利的脚马上木受控制地飞旋了起来。 
　　“住手！住手！‘罗克哈特大叫，但史纳皮控制了局面。 
　　“菲尼特因炊塔腾！”他大叫。哈利停止了跳舞，马尔夫停止了笑。他们都向上看。 
　　一股绿色的烟雾正在空中盘旋。尼维尔和贾斯丁都躺在地上气喘吁吁的。罗恩正抓着脸色苍白的谢默斯，为他那断了的魔杖做的事道歉；但荷米恩和米丽林仍在动；荷米恩被米丽森揪住脑袋，正在痛苦地嗓泣。她们俩的魔杖都被遗忘在地上。 
　　哈利跳过去推开米丽森；但实在是太困难的，因为她比他还壮。 
　　“天啊，天啊，”罗克哈特轻轻掠过人群，看着格斗的后果。“起来，玛迷兰；小心点，米丽森小姐……痛虽很不好受，但一会就会停止的，布特……” 
　　“我想我最好还是教你们怎样锁上不友好的咒语。”罗克哈特站在大厅当中慌乱地说。他盯着史纳皮，他的黑眼睛正闪着光，迅速地转了一圈。“让自愿的搭档——贾斯丁和尼维尔来表演，好不好？” 
　　“坏主意，罗克哈特教授。”史纳皮说，像一只又大又满怀恶意的编幅一样滑动着。“贾斯丁能用最简单的符咒引起毁灭。我们将会不得不送尼维尔的残躯到医院里去。”尼维尔那粉红色的圆脸蛋更红了。“哈利和马尔夫怎么样？”史纳皮露出一个扭曲了的微笑。 
　　“好主意！”罗克哈特说，他示意让人群退后，给他们让出空间，并把哈利和马尔夫叫到大厅中央。 
　　“现在，哈利，”罗克哈特说，“当马尔夫用他的魔杖指着你时，你就这样做。” 
　　他举起他的魔杖试图做一种复杂的迅速摆动，但它掉了下去，史纳皮一脸假笑。 
　　当罗克哈特迅速弯下身把它捡起来时，他说，“喔，这个魔杖好像太兴奋了点。” 
　　史纳皮向马尔夫走过去，弯下身在他身边悄悄低语。马尔夫也得意地笑了。哈利紧张地看着罗克哈特说：“教授，你能不能再示范一次上锁咒？” 
　　“害怕了？”马尔夫低声说，免得罗克哈特听到。 
　　“你凭你？”哈利以嘴角挤出一句话。 
　　罗克哈特愉快地拍拍哈利的肩膀，“就照我那样做，哈利！” 
　　“什么？让我的魔杖掉下？” 
　　但罗克哈特没有听。 
　　“三……二……一，开始！”他大喊。 
　　马尔夫飞快地举起他的魔杖大吼一声：“超级大变法！” 
　　他那魔杖的末端爆开了，一条黑蛇从里面射出来，重重落在地板上，当它抬起头准备攻击时，哈利被吓呆了。人群迅速往后退，不时有人尖叫。 
　　“别动，波特。”史纳皮懒洋洋地说，很显然他非常乐意看到哈利跟那发怒的蛇四眼相对，一动不动的样子。“我会除掉它的……” 
　　“让我来！”罗克哈特大叫。他对着蛇挥动他的魔杖，发出一阵砰砰作响的声音。蛇并没消失，而是升起10英尺高，接着又摔回地板上，发出一声巨响。它被激怒了，狂暴地发出嘶嘶的声音。径直滑向贾斯丁，抬起身子，露出尖齿，准备开始攻击。 
　　哈利并不知道是什么让他这么做的，他甚至连想都没想。他所知道的只是他的脚机械地带着他走，仿佛脚上装了轮子，然后他愚蠢地对着蛇大喝：“离开他！” 
　　奇迹般地，超乎想象地，蛇跌回地板，驯服得像只绵羊。它看着哈利。哈利觉得它被恐惧淹没了。他知道这蛇现在不会再袭击任何人了，尽管他不能解释他为什么会知道。 
　　他看着贾斯丁，露齿笑着，希望看到贾斯丁解脱、迷惑或感激的表情——当然，不是愤怒和害怕。 
　　“你以为你刚才在干什么？”他大叫，在哈利来不及说什么之前，贾斯丁已经回过身冲出了礼堂。 
　　史纳皮走上前来，挥舞了几下魔杖，蛇就化成一缕黑烟消失了。 
　　史纳皮也用一种意外的表情看着哈利，那是一种狡猾的表情。哈利一点也不喜欢它。他隐隐约约听到墙的周围有一阵不祥的，危险的咕哝。接着他感到有人扯着他背上的长袍。 
　　“过来，”罗恩凑在他耳边说，“来，过来——” 
　　罗恩把他拉出礼堂，荷米恩在一旁紧跟着，当他们经过大门时，两边的人让出一条路，似乎怕沾上什么东西。哈利对发生什么事一无所知，而罗恩和荷米恩都没有告诉他，直到他们把他拉进格林芬顿空无一人的宿舍里。接着罗恩把哈利推进安乐椅，说：“你是帕斯尔莫斯！为什么你不告诉我们？” 
　　“我怎么啦？”哈利问。 
　　“你是一个帕斯尔莫斯！”罗恩说，“你能和蛇说话！” 
　　“我知道了，”哈利说，“我说，这只是我第二次这么做。有一次在动物园里我偶然制止了一条缠在我堂弟达德里身上的大蟒蛇——说来话长——它告诉我它从没到过巴西，我于是放它自由。那是在我知道我是巫师以前的事了。” 
　　“一条大蟒蛇告诉你它从没到过巴西？”罗恩不可置信地重复。 
　　“嗯！”哈利说，“我打赌许多这里的人都能做得到。” 
　　“噢，不，他们不行。”罗恩说，“这可不是一件普通的事。哈利，这太糟糕了。” 
　　“有什么不好的？”哈利开始生气了，“你们每个人到底都怎么啦？听着，如果我没有叫那蛇不要攻击贾斯丁的话……”“噢，这就是s你对它说的？” 
　　“你这是什么意思？你在那，你听到我说话的。” 
　　“我听到你讲帕斯尔莫斯，”罗恩回答，“蛇的语言。你一定说了些什么。难怪贾斯工会被吓坏了。你听起来就像在教唆那蛇或什么别的。它很烦人，这你知道。” 
　　哈利目瞪口呆地瞪着他。 
　　“我说了别的语言？可是——我没有意识到——我怎么可能在讲另一种语言而自己却不知道呢？” 
　　罗恩摇了摇头。他和荷米恩看起来就像死了什么人一样。哈利无法想象为什么会这么恐怖。 
　　“难道你不想告诉我，阻止一条肮脏的大蛇咬下贾斯丁的头有什么不好的吗？” 
　　他说，“我是怎么做到的，难道跟贾斯丁不必变成无头鬼一样重要吗？” 
　　“是的。”荷米恩终于用一种缓和的声音回答了，“因为能跟蛇谈话是撒拉沙。” 
　　史林德林最为有名的就是可以跟蛇谈话。这就是为何史林德林学院的标志是莽蛇的原因。“哈利的嘴半天合不拢。 
　　“事实上，现在整个学校都会以为你就是撒拉沙的曾——曾——曾——曾——曾孙子或其他什么……” 
　　“但我不是。”哈利用一种连他也解释不了的痛苦声音说。 
　　“你将会发现这有多难证明，”荷米恩说，“他是1000多年前的人，我们都知道这一点，你也知道的。” 
　　那天晚上哈利失眠了。透过挂在四根柱上的窗帘上的裂缝，他看着雪开始从塔窗上落下来，在空中飘荡。 
　　他会是撒拉沙。史林德林的后代吗？毕竟他对他父亲家族的事一无所知。杜史林总是不准别人问关于他那些巫师亲戚的事。 
　　安静地，哈利试图讲一些蛇语。但一个字也说不出来。似乎只有跟蛇类面对面时他才做得到。 
　　“但是我在格林芬顿，”哈利想。“分类帽不会把我分到这里来的，假如我有史林德林的血液的话……” 
　　“啊！”他脑海里有一个讨厌的小声音说，“可是分类帽试过要把你分到史林德林那边去，你不记得了吗？” 
　　哈利翻了个身。他想，第二天在草药课见到贾斯丁时，一定要向他解释说他只是让那蛇走开，而不是在教唆它。（他恼火地想着，拍打着枕头，这一点连白痴都应该看得出的。） 
　　但是到了第二天，夜里开始下的雪变成了暴风雪。这学期的最后一次草药课被取消了。史鲍特教授决定要在曼德拉克斯织短袜和围巾，这项微妙的工作她只相信让自己来做。 
　　当罗恩和荷米恩做完功课用魔棋在玩游戏时，哈利正为此在格林芬顿的宿舍里烦躁到极点。 
　　“看在上帝的份上，哈利，”荷米恩被激怒了，当罗恩的一个象把她的马吃了时，“如果真的那么重要你就去找贾斯丁。” 
　　于是哈利站起来，穿过门洞，想看看贾斯丁会在哪。 
　　因为又厚又灰的雪覆盖在每一个窗子上，城堡看起来比平时白天的这个时候更黑。打了个冷颤，哈利穿过正在上课的教室，站了片刻，想看看里面正在干什么。 
　　麦康娜教授正对着某个人大吼。哈利压下想要看看究竟的念头，他继续向前走，他想贾斯丁可能利用自由活动的时间在赶其他功课，于是他决定到图书馆看一下。 
　　一群原本该在草药库的海夫巴夫学生正坐在图书馆的后面，但他们看起来不像在学习。在两排长长的书架中间，哈利可以看到他们的头靠在一起，好像有什么吸引人的对话。他没到贾斯丁。当他走向海夭巴夫那伙人时，有一些话落到了他耳里，他停下来听，躲在隐形部后面。 
　　“不管怎么说，”一个胖男孩说，“我叫贾斯丁躲在我们宿舍里。 
　　我的意思是说，要是波特把他当作他的下一个目标的话，他最好还是先躲一阵子。当然自从他不小心告诉波特自己是马格人出身的人之后，贾斯丁就一直在等这一天的到来了。实际上，贾斯丁告诉过他，他曾因此倒霉过。这可不是可随便透露给史林德林的后代的事，不是吗？” 
　　“你已经认定是波特了吗？尔尼？”一个扎着马尾的金发女孩急切地问。 
　　“啊啊，”那胖男孩严肃地说，“他是一个帕斯尔莫斯，每个人都知道这是神秘巫师的标志。你可听过哪个平常人能和蛇交谈的？他们管史林德林叫蛇语。” 
　　这话引起了一阵嘀咕，尔尼继续说，“还记得墙上的字吗？敌人的后代小心？ 
　　波特和费驰有些过节。接下来我们知道，费驰的猫遭到袭击，一年级生格雷锐在快迪斯比赛中惹得波特不高兴，因为把他躺在泥里的样子拍了照。接下来，他就被袭击了。” 
　　“但他看起来总是那么亲切，”那女孩不确定地说，“但，喔，他正是让‘那个人’消失的人。起码，他不完全是坏的，是吗？” 
　　尔尼神秘兮兮地降低了声音，海夫巴夫的人都弯下身去，哈利为了听他说什么，又朝旁边挪了挪。 
　　“没有人知道他是怎么从‘那个人’的袭击下保住性命的，我是说，那时他还只是个婴儿，他应该早被撕成碎片了，只有一个真正的神秘巫师才能在那样的诅咒下生存下来。”他把声音放低到几乎像耳语一般，“那大概是‘那个人’第一次想杀他的原因，是因为他不想有一个神秘巫师跟他竞争。我真想知道波特还有什么本事没露出来。” 
　　哈利听不下去，他大声地清清嗓子，从书架后面走出来。假如他不是那么愤怒的话，他会发现他们迎接他的场面非常有趣：每一个人好像在看到他的那一刻都吓傻了，尔尼脸上变得毫无血色。 
　　“嗨！”哈利说，“我正在找贾斯丁。” 
　　海夫已夫学院人最大的恐惧得到了证实。他们都害怕地看着尔尼。 
　　“你找他干什么？”尔尼颤抖声音问。 
　　“我要告诉他在格斗格乐部和那蛇发生的事。”哈利说。 
　　尔尼舔了舔花白的嘴唇，深吸了口气，说：“我们都在那。我们看到了发生的事。” 
　　“那你注意到了吗？当我和蛇讲完话后它就退回去了。”哈利问。 
　　“我所看到的，”尔尼边说边发抖，结结巴巴地，“是你在讲蛇语，教唆蛇去咬了贾斯丁。” 
　　“我没教唆它！”哈利的声音因愤怒而颤抖，“它连碰都没碰他！” 
　　“那只差一点点，”尔尼回答，“为了让你知道，”他紧张地加上，“我想告诉你，你可以追溯我的家族到9代前的女巫和男巫师。我的血统就像其他人一样纯，所以——” 
　　“我不管你有什么样的血统！”哈利粗暴地说，“为什么我要袭击马格出身的人？” 
　　“我听说你憎恨和你住在一起的马格人。”尔尼急急地答。 
　　“跟杜斯
Chapter 12 The Polyjuice Potion
They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told Harry to wait and left him there, alone.
Harry looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers'offices Harry had visited so far this year, Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting. If he hadn't been scared out of his wits that he was about to be thrown out of school, he would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.
It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat.
Harry hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping witches and wizards on the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the hat down and tried it on again? Just to see… just to make sure it had put him in the right House.
He walked quietly around the desk, lifted the hat from its shelf, and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much too large and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he'd put it on. Harry stared at the black inside of the hat, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, “Bee in your bonnet, Harry Potter?”
“Er, yes,” Harry muttered. “Er - sorry to bother you - I wanted to ask—”
“You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House,” said the hat smartly. “Yes… you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before -” Harry's heart leapt - “you would have done well in Slytherin—”
Harry's stomach plummeted. He grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Harry pushed it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.
“You're wrong,” he said aloud to the still and silent hat. It didn't move. Harry backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.
He wasn't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.
Harry was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.
Harry yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but couldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smouldering pile of ash on the floor.
The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.
“Professor,” Harry gasped. “Your bird - I couldn't do anything - he just caught fire—”
To Harry's astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.
“About time, too,” he said. “He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on.”
He chuckled at the stunned look on Harry's face.
“Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him…”
Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.
“It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day,” said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. “He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets.”
In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, Harry had forgotten what he was there for, but it all came back to him as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Harry with his penetrating, light-blue stare.
Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.
“It wasn'Harry, Professor Dumbledore!” said Hagrid urgently. “I was talkin'ter him seconds before that kid was found, he never had time, sir—”
Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.
“it can't've bin him, I'll swear it in front o'the Ministry o'Magic if I have to.”
“Hagrid, I—”
“- yeh've got the wrong boy, sir, I know Harry never—”
“Hagrid!” said Dumbledore loudly. “I do not think that Harry attacked those people.”
“Oh,” said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. “Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster.”
And he stomped out looking embarrassed.
“You don't think it was me, Professor?” Harry repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.
“No, Harry, I don't,” said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. “But I still want to talk to you.”
Harry waited nervously while Dumbledore considered him, the tips of his long fingers together.
“I must ask you, Harry, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me,” he said gently. “Anything at all.”
Harry didn't know what to say. He thought of Malfoy shouting, “You'll be next, Mudbloods!” and of the Polyjuice Potion simmering away in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice and remembered what Ron had said: “Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world.” He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his growing dread that he was somehow connected with Salazar Slytherin…
“No,” said Harry. “There isn't anything, Professor…”
The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.
“At this rate, we'll be the only ones left,” Ron told Harry and Hermione. “Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be.”
Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. But Harry was glad that most people were leaving. He was tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he was about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.
Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry down the corridors, shouting, “Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through…”
Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.
“It is not a laughing matter,” he said coldly.
“Oh, get out of the way, Percy,” said Fred. “Harry's in a hurry.”
“Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant,” said George, chortling.
Ginny didn't find it amusing either.
“Oh, don't,” she wailed every time Fred asked Harry loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.
Harry didn't mind; it made him feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.
“It's because he's bursting to say it's really him,” said Ron knowingly. “You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work.”
“Not for long,” said Hermione in a satisfied tone. “The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now.”
At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Harry found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Hermione, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private. Fred, George, and Ginny had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.
Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Harry and Ron, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Hermione, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.
“Wake up,” she said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.
“Hermione - you're not supposed to be in here -” said Ron, shielding his eyes against the light.
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” said Hermione, throwing him his present. “I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready.”
Harry sat up, suddenly wide awake.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” said Hermione, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Ron's four-poster. “If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight.”
At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak.
“Hello,” said Harry happily as she landed on his bed. “Are you speaking to me again?”
She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Harry a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too.
The rest of Harry's Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle fudge, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team, and Hermione had bought him a luxurious eagle-feather quill. Harry opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Weasley's car (which hadn't been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow), and the bout of rule-breaking he and Ron were planning next.
No one, not even someone dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts.
The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read “Pinhead,” kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Harry didn't even care that Draco Malfoy was making loud, snide remark about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours'time.
Harry and Ron had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Hermione ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.
“We still need a bit of the people you're changing into,” said Hermione matter-of-factly, as though she were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. “And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoys best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him.
“I've got it all worked out,” she went on smoothly, ignoring Harry's and Ron's stupefied faces. She held up two plump chocolate cakes. “I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet.”
Harry and Ron looked incredulously at each other.
“Hermione, I don't think—”
“That could go seriously wrong—”
But Hermione had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had.
“The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair,” she said sternly. “You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?”
“Oh, all right, all right,” said Harry. “But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?”
“I've already got mine!” said Hermione brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of her pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. “Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas - so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back.”
When Hermione had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Ron turned to Harry with a doom-laden expression.
“Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?”
But to Harry's and Ron's utter amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Hermione had said. They lurked in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle who had remained alone at the Slytherin table, shoveling down fourth helpings of trifle. Harry had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When they spotted Crabbe and Goyle coming out of the Great Hall, Harry and Ron hid quickly behind a suit of armor next to the front door.
“How thick can you get?” Ron whispered ecstatically as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.
By far the hardest part was hiding them in the closet across the hall. Once they were safely stowed among the buckets and mops, Harry yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Goyle's forehead and Ron pulled out several of Crabbe's hairs. They also stole their shoes, because their own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-size feet. Then, still stunned at what they had just done, they sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
They could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the stall in which Hermione was stirring the cauldron. Pulling their robes up over their faces, Harry and Ron knocked softly on the door.
“Hermione?”
They heard the scrape of the lock and Hermione emerged, shiny-faced and looking anxious. Behind her they heard the gloop gloop of the bubbling, glutinous potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.
“Did you get them?” Hermione asked breathlessly.
Harry showed her Goyle's hair.
“Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry,” Hermione said, holding up a small sack. “You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle.”
The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.
“I'm sure I've done everything right,” said Hermione, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. “It looks like the book says it should… once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves.”
“Now what?” Ron whispered.
“We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs.”
Hermione ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, her hand trembling, she shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass.
The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.
“Urgh - essence of Millicent Bulstrode,” said Ron, eyeing it with loathing. “Bet it tastes disgusting.”
“Add yours, then,” said Hermione.
Harry dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Ron put Crabbe's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.
“Hang on,” said Harry as Ron and Hermione reached for their glasses. “We'd better not all drink them in here… Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie.”
“Good thinking,” said Ron, unlocking the door. “We'll take separate stalls.”
Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Harry slipped into the middle stall.
“Ready?” he called.
“Ready,” came Ron's and Hermione's voices.
“One - two - three—”
Pinching his nose, Harry drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.
Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he'd just swallowed live snakes - doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to be sick - then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes - next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax - and before his eyes, his hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened, the knuckles were bulging like bolts - his shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down toward his eyebrows - his robes ripped as his chest expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops - his feet were agony in shoes four sizes too small.
As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Harry lay facedown on the stone-cold floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Goyle. His large hand trembling, he pulled off his old robes, which were hanging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones, and laced up Goyle's boatlike shoes. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only the short growth of wiry bristles, low on his forehead. Then he realized that his glasses were clouding his eyes because Goyle obviously didn't need them - he took them off and called, “Are you two okay?” Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from his mouth.
“Yeah,” came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right.
Harry unlocked his door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at him out of dull, deepset eyes. Harry scratched his ear. So did Goyle.
Ron's door opened. They stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Ron was indistinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding-bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms.
“This is unbelievable,” said Ron, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. “Unbelievable.”
“We'd better get going,” said Harry, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist. “We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow…”
Ron, who had been gazing at Harry, said, “You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking.” He banged on Hermione's door. “C'mon, we need to go—”
A high-pitched voice answered him.
“I - I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me.”
“Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you—”
“No - really - I don't think I'll come. You two hurry up, you're wasting time—”
Harry looked at Ron, bewildered.
“That looks more like Goyle,” said Ron. “That's how he looks every time a teacher asks him a question.”
“Hermione, are you okay?” said Harry through the door.
“Fine - I'm fine - go on—”
Harry looked at his watch. Five of their precious sixty minutes had already passed.
“We'll meet you back here, all right?” he said.
Harry and Ron opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off.
“Don't swing your arms like that,” Harry muttered to Ron.
“Eh?”
“Crabbe holds them sort of stiff…”
“How's this?”
“Yeah, that's better…”
They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin that they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.
“Any ideas?” muttered Harry.
“The Slytherins always come up to breakfast from over there,” said Ron, nodding at the entrance to the dungeons. The words had barely left his mouth when a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance.
“Excuse me,” said Ron, hurrying up to her. “We've forgotten the way to our common room.”
“I beg your pardon?” said the girl stiffly. “Our common room? I'm a Ravenclaw.”
She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.
Harry and Ron hurried down the stone steps into the darkness, their footsteps echoing particularly loudly as Crabbe's and Goyle's huge feet hit the floor, feeling that this wasn't going to be as easy as they had hoped.
The labyrinthine passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school, constantly checking their watches to see how much time they had left. After a quarter of an hour, just when they were getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.
“Ha!” said Ron excitedly. “There's one of them now!”
The figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a Slytherin, it was Percy.
“What're you doing down here?” said Ron in surprise.
Percy looked affronted.
“That,” he said stiffly, “is none of your business. It's Crabbe, isn't it?”
“Wh - oh, yeah,” said Ron.
“Well, get off to your dormitories,” said Percy sternly. “It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days.”
“You are,” Ron pointed out.
“I,” said Percy, drawing himself up, “am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me.”
A voice suddenly echoed behind Harry and Ron. Draco Malfoy was strolling toward them, and for the first time in his life, Harry was pleased to see him.
“There you are,” he drawled, looking at them. “Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny.”
Malfoy glanced witheringly at Percy.
“And what're you doing down here, Weasley?” he sneered.
Percy looked outraged.
“You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!” he said. “I don't like your attitude!”
Malfoy sneered and motioned for Harry and Ron to follow him. Harry almost said something apologetic to Percy but caught himself just in time. He and Ron hurried after Malfoy, who said as they turned into the next passage, “That Peter Weasley—”
“Percy,” Ron corrected him automatically.
“Whatever,” said Malfoy. “I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed.”
He gave a short, derisive laugh. Harry and Ron exchanged excited looks.
Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.
“What's the new password again?” he said to Harry.
“Er -” said Harry.
“Oh, yeah - pure-blood!” said Malfoy, not listening, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and Harry and Ron followed him.
The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.
“Wait here,” said Malfoy to Harry and Ron, motioning them to a pair of empty chairs set back from the fire. “I'll go and get it my father's just sent it to me—”
Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Harry and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home.
Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.
“That'll give you a laugh,” he said.
Harry saw Ron's eyes widen in shock. He read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Harry.
It had been clipped out of the Daily Prophet , and it said:
INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. “Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute,” Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. “He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately.”
Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.
“Well?” said Malfoy impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. “Don't you think it's funny?”
“Ha, ha,” said Harry bleakly.
“Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them,” said Malfoy scornfully. “You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave.”
Ron's - or rather, Crabbe's - face was contorted with fury.
“What's up with you, Crabbe?” snapped Malfoy.
“Stomachache,” Ron grunted.
“Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me,” said Malfoy, snickering. “You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet,” he went on thoughtfully. “I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in.”
Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin: “`Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?”
He dropped his hands and looked at Harry and Ron.
“What's the matter with you two?”
Far too late, Harry and Ron forced themselves to laugh, but Malfoy seemed satisfied; perhaps Crabbe and Goyle were always slow on the uptake.
“Saint Potter, the Mudbloods'friend,” said Malfoy slowly. “He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!”
Harry and Ron waited with bated breath: Malfoy was surely seconds away from telling them it was him - but then “I wish I knew who it is,” said Malfoy petulantly. “I could help them.”
Ron's jaw dropped so that Crabbe looked even more clueless than usual. Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice, and Harry, thinking fast, said, “You must have some idea who's behind it all…”
“You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?” snapped Malfoy. “And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing - last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time… I hope it's Granger,” he said with relish.
Ron was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists. Feeling that it would be a bit of a giveaway if Ron punched Malfoy, Harry shot him a warning look and said, “D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?”
“Oh, yeah… whoever it was was expelled,” said Malfoy. “They're probably still in Azkaban.”
“Azkaban?” said Harry, puzzled.
“Azkaban - the wizard prison, Goyle,” said Malfoy, looking at him in disbelief “Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward.”
He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, “Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?”
Harry tried to force Goyle's dull face into a look of concern.
“Yeah…” said Malfoy. “Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor—”
“Ho!” said Ron.
Malfoy looked at him. So did Harry. Ron blushed. Even his hair was turning red. His nose was also slowly lengthening - their hour was up, Ron was turning back into himself, and from the look of horror he was suddenly giving Harry, he must be, too.
They both jumped to their feet.
“Medicine for my stomach,” Ron grunted, and without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Malfoy hadn't noticed anything. Harry could feel his feet slipping around in Goyle's huge shoes and had to hoist up his robes as he shrank; they crashed up the steps into the dark entrance hall, which was full of a muffled pounding coming from the closet where they'd locked Crabbe and Goyle. Leaving their shoes outside the closet door, they sprinted in their socks up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
“Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time,” Ron panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. “I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys'drawing room.”
Harry checked his face in the cracked mirror. He was back to normal. He put his glasses on as Ron hammered on the door of Hermione's stall.
“Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you—”
“Go away!” Hermione squeaked.
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
“What's the matter?” said Ron. “You must be back to normal by now, we are.”
But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Harry had never seen her looking so happy.
“Ooooooh, wait till you see,” she said. “It's awful—”
They heard the lock slide back and Hermione emerged, sobbing, her robes pulled up over her head.
“What's up?” said Ron uncertainly. “Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?”
Hermione let her robes fall and Ron backed into the sink.
Her face was covered in black fur. Her eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through her hair.
“It was a c-cat hair!” she howled. “M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!”
“Uh-oh,” said Ron.
“You'll be teased something dreadful,” said Myrtle happily.
“It's okay, Hermione,” said Harry quickly. “We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions…”
It took a long time to persuade Hermione to leave the bathroom. Moaning Myrtle sped them on their way with a hearty guffaw. “Wait till everyone finds out you've got a tail!”
他们走到石梯尽头，麦康娜教授在门上叩了叩。门无声地开了，他们走了过去。 
　　麦康娜让哈利一个人在那里等，接着就走开了。 
　　哈利环顾四周，有一点是肯定的，在今年哈利参观过的所有老师的家中，丹伯多的家是最有趣的。要不是因为怕被开除出校，他一定很乐意到处瞧一瞧的。 
　　这是一个又大又漂亮的方形屋子，里面不时发出一些很有趣的小声音。一些奇形怪状的银器具放在有仿锤形脚的桌子上，旋转着散发出丝丝缕缕的轻烟。墙上贴的全是以前的校长肖像，有男的、有女的，每个人都神情高雅。在一只巨大的，有爪形桌脚的桌子后面有一个搁架，上面放着一顶破破旧旧的分类帽。 
　　哈利犹豫地看了看墙上的肖像，如果他把分类帽拿下来再放回去的话，应该没什么不妥吧？看看就好……只是要确定它把他分进了正确的学院。 
　　他悄悄地绕过桌子，从搁架上拎起分类帽，慢慢地放到自己头上。它太大了，滑下来遮住了他的眼睛，就像上次一样。哈利盯着分类帽黑乎乎的里面看，等着，接着一个轻轻的声音在他身边说：“帽子里的蜜蜂（咒语），哈利。波特吗？” 
　　“呃，是的，”哈利低声说，“呃，对不起，打扰你了——我想问一下——” 
　　“你想知道我是不是把你分到正确的学院去了，”分类帽聪明地说，“是的……你太难分了。但我坚持我以前说过的——“哈利的心跳了一下。”你如果在史林德林的话会做得很出色的。” 
　　哈利的心沉了下去。他一把抓起分类帽把它从头上拿了下来。 
　　它在他手里被弄得软软的，笨拙的又皱巴巴的。哈利把它放回搁架上，心里很悲伤。 
　　“你错了。”他大声地对动也不动静悄悄的分类帽说。它还是一动不动，哈利回过身看着它，突然一个奇怪的声音从后面传来让他转过身。 
　　他毕竟不是孤独的。门后的鸟架上站着一只看起来很老的鸟，就像一只只剩下一半毛的火鸡，哈利看着它，它也忧郁地看着他，一边又发出那种怪声，哈利想它看起来真够糟糕的，接着又有几条羽毛从从它的尾巴上掉下来。 
　　哈利正在想着，如果要他单独和它在办公室里的话，他宁愿它死掉，这时那鸟忽然被火焰包围了。 
　　哈利骇得大叫起来，退回桌旁，他急切地寻找想看看是否能找到一杯水，但根本没有。这时，鸟已变成了一个火球，它发出一声尖叫。 
　　不一会就只剩地上的～堆灰炽了。 
　　办公室的门打开了，丹伯多走了进来，看起来很阴郁。 
　　“教授，”哈利喘着气，“我什么也没有做——你的鸟忽然就着火了——” 
　　让哈利惊讶的是，丹伯多微笑了。 
　　“只是时间问题，”他说，“它已经很糟糕了，好几天了。我告诉过它可以走了。” 
　　他对着哈利脸上那发愣的表情发出了几声轻笑。 
　　“达摩克是一只凤凰。当凤凰残废的时间到来时，它就在火焰中燃烧，然后从余炽中重生。你看它……” 
　　哈利马上向下一看，看到一只皮肤皱巴巴的雏鸟正从灰炽里探出头来。它就跟那老的一样难看。 
　　“让你看到它这样真是不好意思。”丹伯多说，坐回他的桌子。 
　　“它很多时候都是一只很好看的漂亮的有着金红羽毛的凤凰，是一只很吸引人的动物。它们能背负很重的东西。它们的眼泪能治病，而且它们是很忠诚的宠物。” 
　　在看到达摩克着火的震惊中，哈利已忘了到这儿来的目的。但当丹伯多坐在桌后的高背椅，用他那尖锐的眼睛看着他时，哈利想起来了。 
　　在丹伯多没来得及讲话时，门忽然“砰”地一声被撞开了。哈格力眼神狂乱地冲了进来。他的围巾围到他那黑乎乎，头发蓬松的头顶，手里还拎着那只鸡。 
　　“不是哈利，丹伯多教授！”哈格力着急地说，“在那孩子被发现的几秒前我正在和他讲话，他没时间，先生……” 
　　丹伯多试着要说些什么，但哈格力继续叫嚷着，提着鸡焦虑地挥舞着，鸡毛洒落了一地。 
　　“不能冤枉他，我可以在上帝面前发誓，要是我……” 
　　“哈格力，我——” 
　　“你们找错人了，先生。我知道哈利从来——” 
　　“哈格力！”丹伯多提高了嗓门说，“我并不认为哈利袭击了任何人。” 
　　“哦，”哈格力松了口气，鸡又软绵绵地落回去。“好，那我在外面等，校长。” 
　　他尴尬地跺着脚出去了。 
　　“你不认为是我吗，教授？”哈利满怀期待地重复，而丹伯多正把脚上的鸡毛弹去。 
　　“不，哈利，我不认为是你。”丹伯多说，虽然他的脸又沉了下去，“但我仍想和你谈谈。” 
　　哈利紧张地等着，当丹伯多著有所思地看着他和他的鼻尖时。 
　　“我必须问问你，哈利，你有没有什么要跟我说的？”他温和地说，“什么都行。” 
　　哈利不知道怎么说，他想起马尔夫的叫声，“你将是下一个流着马尼血液的！” 
　　还有神奇药浆在麦托勒的洗澡间里煮着，接着他想起那个只闻其声，他听过两次的声音和罗恩说的话：“听到别人听不见的声音可不是什么好兆头，就算是在巫术界”。 
　　他也想到了每个人对他的评议，和他越来越担心自己真的和撒拉沙。史林德林有什么关系……”“不，没事了，教授。“哈利说。 
　　贾斯丁和尼克遇袭的事让猜想紧张地变成了真实的痛苦。显然的，尼克的命运似乎更引起人们的担忧。人们互相询问：怎么可能这样对待一只鬼？什么可怕的力量能伤害一个已经死了的人？人们蜂涌到霍格瓦彻的车站订车票以便可以回家过圣诞节。 
　　“在这种情况下，我们是唯一留下的，”罗恩告诉哈利和荷米恩，“我们，马尔夫，克来伯和高尔，这将是个多么愉快的假期。” 
　　克来伯和高尔、马尔夫的跟班，也签了名留在学校，但令哈利高兴的是大部分人都要走了，他已厌倦了人们在走道上躲避着他，仿佛他长了尖牙或是要向他们吐毒液似的，他厌倦了人们从身边走过时对他的指指点点。 
　　弗来德和乔治却觉得这很好玩。他们故意在走道上和哈利相遇，一边大叫，“让路给史林德林的后代，极端邪恶的……” 
　　伯希非常反对这样做。 
　　“这可不是什么好笑的事。”他冷静地说。 
　　“噢，让开，伯希，”弗来德说，“哈利赶时间。” 
　　“啊，他正忙着去神秘秘室和他长着尖牙的仆人喝午茶呢。”乔治咯咯大笑。 
　　金妮觉得一点都不好笑。 
　　“噢，别，”每次当弗来德问哈利是否正在准备进行下一次袭击，金妮总是激烈地抗议。 
　　哈利一点也不介意。至少他感觉比弗来德和乔治好。一想到他可能是史林德林的后代他就觉得可笑，但他们的闹剧似乎激怒了马尔夫，每次看到他们时他的脾气就越来越坏。 
　　“那是因为他快要忍不住说实际上他才是。”罗恩知道怎么回事。 
　　“你知道他最恨人家打击他了。而你却在为他的行为负责。” 
　　“不会很久的，”荷米恩讽刺地说，“神奇药浆就要完成了，我们随时可以让他说出真相。” 
　　学期终于结束了，安静得连雪花从城堡上掉到地上的声音都听得见。哈利觉得很平和，毫不沮丧。他很乐于作一件事，就是他可以和荷米恩、威斯里绕着格林芬顿塔跑。这意味着他们可以尽倩嬉戏而不怕吵到别人，而且还能私下练习格斗。弗来德、乔治和金妮宁愿不和威斯里夫妇去参观埃及，而选择留在学校。伯希不满他们的态度，因为他们并没有花很长时间呆在格林芬顿的宿舍里。 
　　圣诞那天早上很冷，到处是白茫茫一片。哈利和罗恩早早就被荷米恩叫醒了，他们是唯一留在宿舍的，她一身盛装冲了进去，送了礼物给他们俩。 
　　“起床了。”她大声地说，拉开了窗帘。 
　　“荷米恩——你怎会在这里？”罗恩用手挡住光线。 
　　“圣诞快乐。”荷米恩把礼物扔给他，“我已起床有一个小时了，还添了一些透明翅在药汤里呢。药已经好了。” 
　　哈利一下子清醒过来，坐了起来。 
　　“你确定？” 
　　“绝对，”荷米恩移开小老鼠斯卡伯斯坐了下来，“如果我们要动手，我想今晚就可以。” 
　　这时，海维忽然飞了进来，嘴上叼着一个包裹。 
　　“嗨，”哈利开心地说，当它停在他床上时，“你又在对我说话吗？” 
　　它宠爱地轻咬他的耳朵，这比它带来的礼物更受欢迎。那是来自杜斯利的礼物，他们送给他一副牙签，并附了字条问他暑假能不能在霍格瓦彻渡过。 
　　哈利的其他圣诞礼物更让人满意。哈格力送了他一大听糖浆。 
　　哈利决定在食用前先拿到火上烤一烤把它弄软。罗恩送他一本叫《快迪斯集锦》的书，是一本记录他最喜欢的快迪斯的秩闻趣事的事。 
　　荷米恩则送了他一支贵重的鹰毛羽毛笔。哈利打开最后一份礼物，那是威斯里夫人送的手织长背心，还有一个大蛋糕。他拿起她的卡，心底涌上一股不常有的内疚。他想起威斯里的车，自从上次和胡宾柳树相撞后，就再也没有见过立了，他还想起了罗思接着一起计划要做的违规的事。 
　　没有人能不参加在霍格瓦彻的圣诞晚餐，就连因为稍后要取神奇药浆而忐忑不安的人也是。 
　　大礼堂看起来漂亮极了，不仅有两棵挂着霜冰的圣诞树，有从天花板上垂下来的沉甸甸的饰带，有呈十字交叉装饰在天花板上的常青椒寄生树，而且还有从屋顶飘落的雪花，更增添了节日气氛，丹伯多领唱了几首他最喜欢的欢乐颂歌。随着几杯蛋酒下喉，哈格力越来越兴高采烈。伯希没有注意到弗来德对他最喜欢的三好徽章施了咒语，把它变成大头针，还在不断地问他们在笑什么，哈利甚至毫不理会正在那边大肆吹嘘他那新背心的马尔夫，幸运的话，几个小时内他就会迎来他的终结日了。 
　　哈利和罗恩几乎没吃完第三道圣诞布了就被荷米恩叫出大礼堂吉。最后布署他们今晚的计划。 
　　“我们仍需要你们要变成的人身上的一些东西。”她实事求是地说，就好像她只不过是要他们到超级市场里买洗衣粉一样。“显然，如果能拿到克来伯和高尔的东西就最好不过了，因为他们是马尔夫的死党，他会向他们说出一切，而且我们必须保证真的克来伯和高尔在我们讯问他时不会出现。”“我已经把它全取出来了。” 
　　她平静地说，毫不理会哈利和罗恩那呆愣的表情。她取出两块巧克力蛋糕。“我将在这里面加入安眠药。你们要做的就是确保让克来伯和高尔发现它们。你知道他们有多贪心，他们会一口把蛋糕吞下去的，一旦他们睡着了，马上扯下他们几根头发，放进扫帚柜橱里。” 
　　哈利和罗恩不敢置信地看着对方。 
　　“荷米恩，我不认为——” 
　　“那会惹来大麻烦——” 
　　但荷米恩眼里有一种坚定的光芒，一种在麦康娜教授眼里也出现过的光芒。 
　　“如果没有克来伯和高尔的头发，药就毫无用处。”她严肃地说，“你想调查马尔夫，不是吗？” 
　　“噢，好吧，好吧，”哈利说，“那你呢？谁的头发给你用？” 
　　“我已经拿到了！”荷米恩快活地说，从口袋里掏出一个整齐的小瓶子，里面装了一根头发。“还记得米丽森在格斗俱乐部紧紧抓住我的头发吗？当她要掐我的时候把这个留在了我衣服上。她已经回家过圣诞了——所以我只需告诉史林德林我决定回来了。” 
　　当荷米恩忙于再次检查药时罗恩一脸听天由命的表情转向哈利。 
　　让哈利和罗恩感到惊愕的是，一切都被荷米恩料中了。他们喝过圣诞茶后就藏匿在静僻的进口处等克来伯和高尔。他们还留在史林德林桌上吞食剩下的四道菜。 
　　哈利已经把巧克力蛋糕放在栏杆的末端上了。当他们看到克来伯和高尔走出大礼堂时，他们赶快藏到前门旁边的门拱后。 
　　“看你能吃得了多少？”当克来伯欢天喜地的指着蛋糕告诉高尔，并一把抓起它们整个塞进大嘴里，两个人贪婪地咀嚼了一会，脸上露出胜利的笑容。接着，他们就表情不变，软绵绵地倒在地上。 
　　最难办的就是要把他们藏在柜橱里，而这必须穿过大厅。当把他们安全地藏在水桶和拖把里运送过去后，哈利猛地拨了一根高尔前额的头发，罗恩也拔了几根克来伯的头发，他们偷了他们的鞋子，因为他们自己的鞋子子对克来伯和高尔的大脚板来说太小了。对他们自己所做的一切仍感到呆愕不已时，他们跑进了呻吟的麦托勒的厕所小间。 
　　他们几乎什么也看不到，因为小室里面荷米思正在搅动药锅，到处都是又浓又黑的烟。把衣服拉到脸上，哈利和罗恩轻轻地敲了敲门。 
　　“荷米恩？” 
　　他们听到开锁的声音，接着荷米恩露出头来，脸上发着光，而且看起来有些焦急。在她后面传来汽泡咕咕的声音，是糖浆一般浓的药。三个大玻璃瓶放在抽水木桶的坐位上。 
　　“拿到了吗？”荷米恩紧张地问。 
　　哈利拿出克来伯的头发给她看。 
　　“棒极了，我悄悄把这些备用长袍偷出洗衣店，”荷米恩拿着一个小袋子说，“当你们变身为克来伯和高尔时，你们需要大码的衣服。” 
　　他们三个盯着药锅里头。近看，药浆就像又黑又厚的，慢慢冒着泡的泥浆。 
　　“确信我们都准备好了？”荷米恩紧张地说，又读了一遍《神奇药典》上污迹斑斑的书页，“书上好像说应该……在我们变回自己前我们有整整一个小时的时间。” 
　　“现在做什么？”罗恩悄悄地问。 
　　“我们把这分成三杯，再加头发进去。” 
　　荷米恩分别舀了一大勺到三个玻璃杯里，接着，她颤抖着手把米丽森的头发从瓶里摇进第一个杯里。 
　　药浆像个烧满开水的水壶一样发出嘶嘶的声音，不断地冒泡。 
　　不一会，变成了一种恶心的黄色。 
　　“啊——米丽森的精髓，”罗恩厌恶地看着它，“喝起来肯定与众不同。” 
　　“到你们了。”荷米恩说。 
　　哈利把高尔的头发扔进中间的杯子，罗恩把克来伯的扔进最后一个，两个杯子同时发出嘶嘶声，起了泡沫，高尔的变成一种黄褐色，克来伯则变成暗黑的褐色。 
　　“拿好了，”哈利说，当罗恩和荷米恩伸手去拿杯子时，“我们最好别在这喝，这里太窄了。而且米丽森也不是什么小精灵。” 
　　“对极了，”罗恩打开，“我们到分开的小房间里去喝。” 
　　小心翼翼地不让药浆溅出来，哈利溜进中间的房间。 
　　“准备好没有？”他高声问。 
　　“好了，”罗恩和荷米恩回答。 
　　哈利捏着鼻子，两大口就把药灌了下去。它喝起来就像煮过火的卷心菜。 
　　很快地，他的五脏六腑开始扭曲翻腾，好像他刚刚吞了一条活生生的蛇一样——痛得他直不起腰，他想知道是不是要生病了——接着一胜火烧的感觉迅速从肚子传遍他全身的指尖紧接着，他倒抽了一口冷气，一种可怕的熔化了的感觉遍布四肢，仿佛全身的皮肤都像熔蜡一样冒泡了。在他的眼睛和手开始变长前，他的手变粗，指甲变宽了，连关节也像突然冒出来的一般，鼓了起来，他的肩膀变宽了，前额上被戳的感觉告诉他，他的头发正朝着眉毛的方向长出来；当他的胸肌变厚时衣服被撑裂了，就好像木桶挣破箍桶铁一样，他的脚在小了四码的鞋子里痛苦地挣着…… 
　　就像开始时那么突然，一切又停了下来。哈利脸贴在冰冷的地板上，听到马尔夫在厕所的一头骂骂咧咧。他花了很大劲才踢掉鞋子站了起来。就像现在感觉到的，他变成了高尔，他用大手颤抖着脱下那吊在离他脚踝一英尺上的旧施子，换上备用的袍子，套上高尔那像小船一样的靴子。他伸手理了埋头发，但只摸到了前额下那长得很短的几簇硬发。这时他意识到眼镜反而让眼睛看得不清楚，因为高尔显然不需要它。他摘下眼镜叫道：“你们两个还好吧？”从他嘴里得出的是高尔那个刺耳的嗓音。 
　　“还行。”克来伯低沉的咕咕噜噜的声音从他右边传来。 
　　哈利打开门，走到裂了缝的镜子前面，镜子里，高尔用他呆滞而深陷的眼睛盯着他。哈利抓住他的耳朵，高尔也跟着做了。 
　　罗恩的门打开了。他们盯着对方。除了看起来有些苍白和震惊外，罗恩现在和克来伯根本没有区别。 
　　“这真是难以置信，”罗恩说。他一边走近镜子一边用手戳着克来伯扁平的鼻子，“难以置信。”他说。 
　　“我们最好继续，”哈利说，一边松开嵌入高尔胖乎乎的手腕上的手表，“我们还要继续看看史林德林的宿舍在哪里。我只希望我们能找一些人来帮忙……” 
　　罗恩盯着哈利说：“你不知道高尔的想法有多奇怪。”他敲响荷米恩的门，说：“快点，我们要走了。” 
　　一阵尖叫从房中传出：“我一点也不想去，你们自己去吧。”荷米恩说。 
　　罗恩说：“荷米恩，我们知道米丽森很丑陋，但谁也不会知道那其实是你的。” 
　　“不，真的，我不会去的。你们两个快点吧，不要浪费时间了。”荷米恩说。 
　　哈利迷惑地看着罗思。 
　　“就像高尔一样，”罗恩说，“每当老师问他问题时，他就是这副模样。” 
　　“荷米恩，你还好吗？”哈利隔着门说。 
　　“很好，我很好。你们快点走吧。”荷米恩说。 
　　哈利看着他的表，宝贵的六十分钟又过去了五分钟。 
　　“我们回头再来看你，好吗？”哈利说。 
　　哈利和罗恩小心翼翼地打开洗手间的门，检查了下大衣是否干净就出去了。 
　　“不要这样晃着你的手。”哈利小声对罗恩说。 
　　“嗯？” 
　　“克来伯总是僵硬地放着他的手的。”哈利说。 
　　“这样如何？” 
　　“嗯，好多了。” 
　　他们走下楼梯。他们现在所需要的是一个史林德林，以便跟着他到史林德林的宿舍。但是周围空无一人。 
　　“有什么主意？”哈利喃喃地说。 
　　“这些史林德林总是从那边到这里来吃早餐，”罗恩说，向地牢的入口点了点头。话刚完，那入口处出现了一个留着卷曲长发的女孩。 
　　“对不起，”罗恩赶忙走上前去说，“我们忘了怎么回我们宿舍了。” 
　　“你说什么？”那女孩生硬地说，“我们宿舍？我是一个罗尼文克劳学院的。” 
　　她走开了，怀疑地回头望了望他们。 
　　哈利和罗恩匆匆忙忙地从石阶向黑暗深处走去。他们的脚步声有规则地大声回响着，就像克来伯和高尔的大脚走在地板上一样。 
　　他们意识到事情并不像他们所想象的那般容易。 
　　这些迷宫似的通道空无一人。他们往深处走去，时不时看看还有剩下多少时间。 
　　一刻钟后，就在他们渐渐感到绝望时，他们突然听见前面有响声。 
　　“哈！”罗恩高兴地说，“终于有人了。” 
　　那人影从一个边房露出来。当他们走近时，不禁心一沉。这不是史林德林，而是伯希。 
　　“你在这里干什么？”罗恩奇怪地问。 
　　伯希看起来很难堪。 
　　“这……”他僵硬地说，“这不关你的。这是克来怕吗？” 
　　“谁？噢，是的，我是。”罗恩说。 
　　“回你们的住所去。”伯希严厉地说：“这些天在这黑暗的过道上游荡不安全。” 
　　“你不也在这‘游荡’吗？”罗恩指出道。 
　　“我……”，伯希挺了挺胸说，“我是一个‘三好’章获得者。没有什么东西可以伤害我。” 
　　这时，一阵响声突然在哈利和罗恩身后回响。杰高。马尔夫缓步向他们走来。 
　　在哈利的一生中，他第一次这么高兴见到杰高。马尔夫。 
　　“原来你们在这里。”杰高。马尔夫慢条斯理地说，“这时候，你们不是在宿舍吗？我一直在找你们。我想给你们看一些有趣的东西。” 
　　马尔夫瞥了伯希一眼。 
　　“你又在这里干什么，威斯里？”他鄙视地说。 
　　伯希看起来很粗暴。 
　　“你最好尊重一下学校的三好章获得者。”他说，“我不喜欢你这样的态度。” 
　　马尔夫鄙视地看了他一眼就叫哈利和罗恩跟他走。哈利几乎要对伯希说一些抱歉的话，但最终还是没有。他和罗恩紧跟着马尔夫，就在他们拐进第二个通道时，马尔夫说，“那伯希。威斯里……” 
　　“是‘伯希’，”罗恩主动纠正他。 
　　“不管叫什么都好，”马尔夫说，“我已经注意到他最近老在这地方打转了。 
　　我敢打赌我知道他在计划什么。他想单枪匹马抓住史林德林的后代。” 
　　他发出短促的、嘲弄的笑声。哈利和罗恩互相交换了个兴奋的神情。 
　　马尔夫在一堵光秃秃的、潮湿的石墙边停了下来。他对哈利说：“新暗语是什么？” 
　　“嗯——”哈利说。 
　　“噢，对了，是‘纯洁的血’。”马尔夫说。接着，没有听见什么，一个隐藏在墙里的石门打开了，马尔夫慢慢走进去。哈利和罗恩紧跟着他。 
　　史林德林宿舍是很长，低矮的地下室。室里有坚固的石墙和天花板，天花板上用逻条挂着圆形的，带点绿色的灯。在他们面前是一个燃烧着火的半圆的壁炉。有几个史林德林学生的身影映在壁炉周围的弯曲的椅子里。 
　　“在这里等着。”马尔夫对哈利和罗思说，手指着火炉边的两张空椅子。“我去拿东西，神父刚把它送给我了。”马尔夫说。 
　　哈利和罗恩怀着惊奇的心请坐下了。他们不知马尔夫会拿什么东西给他们看。 
　　他们尽量把这里看成家里。 
　　一分钟后，马尔夫回来了，手里拿着一张类似剪报的东西。他把它往罗恩鼻子下面送。 
　　“你们保证会发笑的。”马尔夫说。 
　　哈利看见罗恩的眼睛由于惊恐而张得很大。罗恩快速地读了遍剪报，发出一阵无可奈何的笑声。接着，他把它递给了哈利。 
　　这是从《每日预报》中剪下的。内容是：关于魔法的调查。 
　　亚瑟。威斯里，魔法部的管理人今天被罚款五十帆船币，因为他对一辆小车施了魔法。 
　　露布斯。马尔夫先生，一个官员，今天要求威斯里先生辞职。因为在今年较早时，在霍格瓦彻学校，这辆被施了魔法的车坠毁了。 
　　“威斯里使魔法部执法工作人员这个职务变得声名狼藉，”马尔夫先生告诉记者说，“很明显，他完全不适合制定我们的法规。他那荒谬的《马格人保护法》应该马上废除。 
　　威斯里先生对此不给任何评论，虽然他的妻子告诉记者要么撤除这些报道，要么她将使这个家的鬼魂付在他们身上。 
　　“怎么样？”当哈利把剪报还给马尔夫时，马尔夫说，“你不认为这很有趣吗？” 
　　“哈，哈！”哈利凄凉地笑。 
　　“亚瑟。威斯里非常喜欢马格人，他应该把魔杖折断去加入他们当中。”马尔夫轻蔑地说，“你也许从不知道威斯里家族的人是纯血统的，从他们的行为中可以看出。” 
　　罗恩的，不如说克来伯的脸充满复仇的神情。 
　　“你怎么了，克来伯？”马尔夫说。 
　　“胃痛。”罗恩咕哝着。 
　　“哦，到上面医院去，并替我给所有那些马尼血统的家伙一脚。” 
　　马尔夫说，窃笑着，“你们瞧，我很奇怪，《每日预报》并没有报道全部攻击。” 
　　他若有所思地说：“我猜丹伯多正试图息事宁人。因为如果这件事不立刻停止的话，他将会受到攻击，老爸总说丹伯多是这个地方所发生过的事情中最糟糕的一个例子。 
　　他爱马格出身的人，一个正经的校长是不会让像柯林那样的无用鬼进来的。” 
　　马尔夫开始用一个虚构的照像机拍照，并对柯林作了个悲惨而又精确的评论。 
　　他说：“波特，我可以替你拍张照吗？嗯？波特？你可以给我签个名吗？我可以舐舐你的鞋吗？啊？波特？” 
　　他放下他的手并看着哈利和罗恩。 
　　“你们俩怎么了？”他问。 
　　哈利和罗恩强迫自己笑，虽然这笑来得晚了些，但马尔夫似乎仍挺满意。或许克来伯和高尔向来对事情反应得比较迟钝。 
　　“神圣的波特，和他马尼血统的朋友。”马尔夫慢慢地说，“他是一个没有正确的巫师观念的人，而大家却以为他是史林德林的后代。” 
　　哈利和罗恩抑制着愤怒。他们肯定马尔夫几乎就要告诉他们真相了。谁知道马尔夫却傲慢地说，“我如果知道他的后代是谁就好了，那么我就可以帮助他们。” 
　　罗恩拉长下巴以便使克来伯的脸看起来比往常更愚蠢。幸运的是，马尔夫并没注意。哈利快速转动脑筋，他说，“你一定猜到是谁吧？” 
　　“你明知我并不知道，高尔，你要我告诉你多少次呢？”马尔夫说，“再说，老爸不会告诉我任何关于那神秘秘室最后一次打开的事情。 
　　当然，这是五十年前的事了。虽然这事发生在他之前，但他了解一切关于这事的情况。他说这事保密。如果我知道太多，我会被怀疑的。 
　　但我知道一点是：秘室之谜最后一次被打开时，死了一个马尼血统的人，所以我敢打赌他们其中一个人的死是迟早的事情。我希望它是格兰佐。“他高兴地说。 
　　罗恩握紧克来伯的巨大的拳头，哈利感觉到如果罗恩打了马尔夫，那么秘密就会泄露，他赶紧用眼神警告罗恩，说：“你知道那个上一次打开秘室门的人是否被抓了？” 
　　“哦，是的，不管是谁都会被驱逐。”马尔夫说，“他们也许仍在阿兹克班。” 
　　“阿兹克班？”哈利疑惑地问。 
　　“阿兹克班——一个巫术的监狱，高尔，”马尔夫有点怀疑地望着他，说，“老实说，你如果再这么迟钝，那么你就没救了。” 
　　他从椅子上起来，说：“神父叫我，让那史林德林的后代捣下去。 
　　他说学校需要清除一些马尼血统的污物。当然，此刻他自个儿的麻烦就很多。 
　　你们知道上星期魔法部突袭检查我们的庄园的事吗？” 
　　哈利试图使高尔毫无表情的脸显出一点关心来。 
　　“你看，”马尔夫说，“幸运的是，他们并未发现太多。老爸得到了一些黑巫术的的非常珍贵的材料。更可幸的是，我们有了个自己的秘密的房间，在画房下面。” 
　　“哦。”罗恩说。 
　　马尔夫看了看他。哈利也看了看他。罗恩的脸一下子红了，连他的头发都红了。 
　　他的鼻子慢慢拉长。罗恩向后转身，神情是那样恐怖。 
　　他们起步就跑。 
　　“我要拿胃药。”罗恩咕哝着，他们用力推着石墙，撞着过道。他们希望马尔夫没有注意到什么，哈利感觉到他的脚在高尔巨大的鞋子里打滑，并且他不得不提起被弄皱的长袍。他们跑到那黑暗的入口大厅。从那里传来沉重的撞击声。他们就是把克来伯和高尔锁在这橱柜里的。他们把鞋子留在橱柜外面，朝着呻吟的麦托勒的厕所小间跑上大理石楼梯。 
　　“嗯，并不完全是浪费时间，”罗恩喘着气，在他们进去之后关上了洗澡间的门，说：“我知道我们还是没有找出是谁进行袭击，但明天我会写信给爸爸让他检查一下马尔夫的画室下面。” 
　　哈利在有裂缝的镜子里看着自己的脸。他已经恢复正常了。在罗恩敲打着洗澡间的门的时候，他戴上了眼镜。 
　　“荷米恩，出来，我们有很多话要告诉你。” 
　　“走开！”荷米恩尖叫。 
　　哈利和罗恩互望了一眼。 
　　“怎么回事？”罗恩说，“你应该恢复正常了。我们是……
Chapter 13 The Very Secret Diary
Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because of course everyone thought that she had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey took out her curtains again and placed them around Hermione's bed, to spare her the shame of being seen with a furry face.
Harry and Ron went to visit her every evening. When the new term started, they brought her each day's homework.
“If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work,” said Ron, tipping a stack of books onto Hermione's bedside table one evening.
“Don't be silly, Ron, I've got to keep up,” said Hermione briskly. Her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that all the hair had gone from her face and her eyes were turning slowly back to brown. “I don't suppose you've got any new leads?” she added in a whisper, so that Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear her.
“Nothing,” said Harry gloomily.
“I was so sure it was Malfoy,” said Ron, for about the hundredth time.
“What's that?” asked Harry, pointing to something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.
“Just a get well card,” said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open, and read aloud:
“To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award.”
Ron looked up at Hermione, disgusted.
“You sleep with this under your pillow?”
But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.
“Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?” Ron said to Harry as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower.
Snape had given them so much homework, Harry thought he was likely to be in the sixth year before he finished it. Ron was just saying he wished he had asked Hermione how many rat tails you were supposed to add to a Hair Raising Potion when an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.
“That's Filch,” Harry muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.
“You don't think someone else's been attacked?” said Ron tensely.
They stood still, their heads inclined toward Flich's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.
“even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore—”
His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.
They poked their heads around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.
“Now what's up with her?” said Ron.
“Let's go and see,” said Harry, and holding their robes over their ankles they stepped through the great wash of water to the door bearing its OUT OF ORDER sign, ignored it as always, and entered.
Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.
“What's up, Myrtle?” said Harry.
“Who's that?” glugged Myrtle miserably. “Come to throw something else at me?”
Harry waded across to her stall and said, “Why would I throw something at you?”
“Don't ask me,” Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. “Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…”
“But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you,” said Harry, reasonably. “I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?”
He had said the wrong thing. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, “Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I don't think!”
“Who threw it at you, anyway?” asked Harry.
“I don't know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head,” said Myrtle, glaring at them. “It's over there, it got washed out…”
Harry and Ron looked under the sink where Myrtle was pointing. A small, thin book lay there. It had a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. Harry stepped forward to pick it up, but Ron suddenly flung out an arm to hold him back.
“What?” said Harry.
“Are you crazy?” said Ron. “It could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous?"said Harry, laughing. “Come off it, how could it be dangerous?”
“You'd be surprised,” said Ron, who was looking apprehensively at the book. “Some of the books the Ministry's confiscated Dad's told me - there was one that burned your eyes out. And everyone who read Sonnets of a Sorcerer spoke in limericks for the rest of their lives. And some old witch in Bath had a book that you could never stop reading! You just had to wander around with your nose in it, trying to do everything one-handed. And—”
“All right, I've got the point,” said Harry.
The little book lay on the floor, nondescript and soggy.
“Well, we won't find out unless we look at it,” he said, and he ducked around Ron and picked it up off the floor.
Harry saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told him it was fifty years old. He opened it eagerly. On the first page he could just make out the name “T M. Riddle” in smudged ink.
“Hang on,” said Ron, who had approached cautiously and was looking over Harry's shoulder. “I know that name… T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago.”
“How on earth d'you know that?” said Harry in amazement.
“Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention,” said Ron resentfully. “That was the one I burped slugs all over. If you'd wiped slime off a name for an hour, you'd remember it, too.”
Harry peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. There wasn't the faintest trace of writing on any of them, not even Auntie Mabel's birthday, or dentist, half-past three.
“He never wrote in it,” said Harry, disappointed.
“I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?” said Ron curiously.
Harry turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.
“He must've been Muggle-born,” said Harry thoughtfully. “To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…”
“Well, it's not much use to you,” said Ron. He dropped his voice. “Fifty points if you can get it through Myrtle's nose.”
Harry, however, pocketed it.
Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and furfree, at the beginning of February. On her first evening back in Gryffindor Tower, Harry showed her T. M. Riddle's diary and told her the story of how they had found it.
“Oooh, it might have hidden powers,” said Hermione enthusiastically, taking the diary and looking at it closely.
“If it has, it's hiding them very well,” said Ron. “Maybe it's shy. I don't know why you don't chuck it, Harry.”
“I wish I knew why someone did try to chuck it,” said Harry. “I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either.”
“Could've been anything,” said Ron. “Maybe he got thirty O.W.L.s or saved a teacher from the giant squid. Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor …”
But Harry could tell from the arrested look on Hermione's face that she was thinking what he was thinking.
“What?” said Ron, looking from one to the other.
“Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?” he said. “That's what Malfoy said.”
“Yeah…” said Ron slowly.
“And this diary is fifty years old,” said Hermione, tapping it excitedly.
“So?”
“Oh, Ron, wake up,” snapped Hermione. “We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything - where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it - the person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?”
“That's a brilliant theory, Hermione,” said Ron, “with just one tiny little flaw. There's nothing written in his diary.”
But Hermione was pulling her wand out of her bag.
“It might be invisible ink!” she whispered.
She tapped the diary three times and said, “Aparecium!”
Nothing happened. Undaunted, Hermione shoved her hand back into her bag and pulled out what appeared to be a bright red eraser.
“It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” she said.
She rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.
“I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there,” said Ron. “Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in.”
Harry couldn't explain, even to himself, why he didn't just throw Riddle's diary away. The fact was that even though he knew the diary was blank, he kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages, as though it were a story he wanted to finish. And while Harry was sure he had never heard the name T. M. Riddle before, it still seemed to mean something to him, almost as though Riddle was a friend he'd had when he was very small, and had half-forgotten. But this was absurd. He'd never had friends before Hogwarts, Dudley had made sure of that.
Nevertheless, Harry was determined to find out more about Riddle, so next day at break, he headed for the trophy room to examine Riddle's special award, accompanied by an interested Hermione and a thoroughly unconvinced Ron, who told them he'd seen enough of the trophy room to last him a lifetime.
Riddle's burnished gold shield was tucked away in a corner cabinet. It didn't carry details of why it had been given to him ("Good thing, too, or it'd be even bigger and I'd still be polishing it,” said Ron). However, they did find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boys.
“He sounds like Percy,” said Ron, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Prefect, Head Boy… probably top of every class—”
“You say that like it's a bad thing,” said Hermione in a slightly hurt voice.
The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood.
“The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again,” Harry heard her telling Filch kindly one afternoon. “And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have Mrs. Norris back in no time.”
Perhaps the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve, thought Harry. It must be getting riskier and riskier to open the Chamber of Secrets, with the school so alert and suspicious. Perhaps the monster, whatever it was, was even now settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years…
Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff didn't take this cheerful view. He was still convinced that Harry was the guilty one, that he had “given himself away” at the Dueling Club. Peeves wasn't helping matters; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing “Oh, Potter, you rotter…” now with a dance routine to match.
Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Harry overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration. “I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva,” he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. “I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.
“You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…”
He tapped his nose again and strode off.
Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Harry hadn't had much sleep because of a late-running Quidditch practice the night before, and he hurried down to the Great Hall, slightly late. He thought, for a moment, that he'd walked through the wrong doors.
The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where Ron was sitting looking sickened, and Hermione seemed to have been overcome with giggles.
“What's going on?” Harry asked them, sitting down and wiping confetti off his bacon.
Ron pointed to the teachers'table, apparently too disgusted to speak. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle going in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.
“Happy Valentine's Day!” Lockhart shouted. “And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!”
Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.
“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” beamed Lockhart. “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!”
Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.
“Please, Hermione, tell me you weren't one of the forty-six, said Ron as they left the Great Hall for their first lesson. Hermione suddenly became very interested in searching her bag for her schedule and didn't answer.
All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as the Gryffindors were walking upstairs for Charms, one of the dwarfs caught up with Harry.
“Oy, you! Arry Potter!” shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.
Hot all over at the thought of being given a valentine in front of a line of first years, which happened to include Ginny Weasley, Harry tried to escape. The dwarf, however, cut his way through the crowd by kicking people's shins, and reached him before he'd gone two paces.
“I've got a musical message to deliver to Arry Potter in person,” he said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.
“Not here,” Harry hissed, trying to escape.
“Stay still!” grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry's bag and pulling him back.
“Let me go!” Harry snarled, tugging.
With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two. His books, wand, parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything.
Harry scrambled around, trying to pick it all up before the dwarf started singing, causing something of a holdup in the corridor.
“What's going on here?” came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. Harry started stuffing everything feverishly into his ripped bag, desperate to get away before Malfoy could hear his musical valentine.
“What's all this commotion?” said another familiar voice as Percy Weasley arrived.
Losing his head, Harry tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.
“Right,” he said, sitting on Harry's ankles. “Here is your singing valentine:
His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard,
I wish he was mine,
he's really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord
Harry would have given all the gold in Gringotts to evaporate on the spot. Trying valiantly to laugh along with everyone else, he got up, his feet numb from the weight of the dwarf, as Percy Weasley did his best to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.
“Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class, now,” he said, shooing some of the younger students away. “And you, Malfoy—”
Harry, glancing over, saw Malfoy stoop and snatch up something. Leering, he showed it to Crabbe and Goyle, and Harry realized that he'd got Riddle's diary.
“Give that back,” said Harry quietly.
“Wonder what Potter's written in this?” said Malfoy, who obviously hadn't noticed the year on the cover and thought he had Harry's own diary. A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified.
“Hand it over, Malfoy,” said Percy sternly.
“When I've had a look,” said Malfoy, waving the diary tauntingly at Harry.
Percy said, “As a school prefect -” but Harry had lost his temper. He pulled out his wand and shouted, “Expelliarmus!” and just as Snape had disarmed Lockhart, so Malfoy found the diary shooting out of his hand into the air. Ron, grinning broadly, caught it.
“Harry!” said Percy loudly. “No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!”
But Harry didn't care, he was one-up on Malfoy, and that was worth five points from Gryffindor any day. Malfoy was looking furious, and as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully after her, “I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!”
Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class. Snarling, Ron pulled out his wand, too, but Harry pulled him away. Ron didn't need to spend the whole of Charms belching slugs.
It wasn't until they had reached Professor Flitwick's class that Harry noticed something rather odd about Riddle's diary. All his other books were drenched in scarlet ink. The diary, however, was as clean as it had been before the ink bottle had smashed all over it. He tried to point this out to Ron, but Ron was having trouble with his wand again; large purple bubbles were blossoming out of the end, and he wasn't much interested in anything else.
Harry went to bed before anyone else in his dormitory that night. This was partly because he didn't think he could stand Fred and George singing, “His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad” one more time, and partly because he wanted to examine Riddle's diary again, and knew that Ron thought he was wasting his time.
Harry sat on his four-poster and flicked through the blank pages, not one of which had a trace of scarlet ink on it. Then he pulled a new bottle out of his bedside cabinet, dipped his quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary.
The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished. Excited, Harry loaded up his quill a second time and wrote, “My name is Harry Potter.”
The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.
Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Harry had never written.
“Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?”
These words, too, faded away, but not before Harry had started to scribble back.
“Someone tried to flush it down a toilet.”
He waited eagerly for Riddle's reply.
“Lucky that I recorded my memories in some more lasting way than ink. But I always knew that there would be those who would not want this diary read.”
“What do you mean?” Harry scrawled, blotting the page in his excitement.
`I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
“That's where I am now,” Harry wrote quickly. “I'm at Hogwarts, and horrible stuff's been happening. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?”
His heart was hammering. Riddle's reply came quickly, his writing becoming untidier, as though he was hurrying to tell all he knew.
“Of course I know about the Chamber of Secrets. In my day, they told us it was a legend, that it did not exist. But this was a lie. In my fifth year, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed that such a thing had happened at Hogwarts, forbade me to tell the truth. A story was given out that the girl had died in a freak accident. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut. But I knew it could happen again. The monster lived on, and the one who had the power to release it was not imprisoned.”
Harry nearly upset his ink bottle in his hurry to write back.
“It's happening again now. There have been three attacks and no one seems to know who's behind them. Who was it last time?”
“I can show you, if you like, “came Riddle's reply. “You don't have to take my word for it. I can take you inside my memory of the night when I caught him.”
Harry hesitated, his quill suspended over the diary. What did Riddle mean? How could he be taken inside somebody else's memory? He glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory, which was growing dark. When he looked back at the diary, he saw fresh words forming.
“Let me show you.”
Harry paused for a fraction of a second and then wrote two letters.
OK
The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forward; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed, and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.
He felt his feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking, as the blurred shapes around him came suddenly into focus.
He knew immediately where he was. This circular room with the sleeping portraits was Dumbledore's office - but it wasn't Dumbledore who was sitting behind the desk. A wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, was reading a letter by candlelight. Harry had never seen this man before.
“I'm sorry,” he said shakily. “I didn't mean to butt in—”
But the wizard didn't look up. He continued to read, frowning slightly. Harry drew nearer to his desk and stammered, “Er - I'll just go, shall I?”
Still the wizard ignored him. He didn't seem even to have heard him. Thinking that the wizard might be deaf, Harry raised his voice.
“Sorry I disturbed you. I'll go now,” he half-shouted.
The wizard folded up the letter with a sigh, stood up, walked past Harry without glancing at him, and went to draw the curtains at his window.
The sky outside the window was ruby-red; it seemed to be sunset. The wizard went back to the desk, sat down, and twiddled his thumbs, watching the door.
Harry looked around the office. No Fawkes the phoenix - no whirring silver contraptions. This was Hogwarts as Riddle had known it, meaning that this unknown wizard was Headmaster, not Dumbledore, and he, Harry, was little more than a phantom, completely invisible to the people of fifty years ago.
There was a knock on the office door.
“Enter,” said the old wizard in a feeble voice.
A boy of about sixteen entered, taking off his pointed hat. A silver prefect's badge was glinting on his chest. He was much taller than Harry, but he, too, had jet-black hair.
“Ah, Riddle,” said the Headmaster.
“You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?” said Riddle. He looked nervous.
“Sit down,” said Dippet. “I've just been reading the letter you sent me.”
“Oh,” said Riddle. He sat down, gripping his hands together very tightly.
“My dear boy,” said Dipper kindly, “I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?”
“No,” said Riddle at once. “I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that - to that—”
“You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?” said Dippet curiously.
“Yes, sir,” said Riddle, reddening slightly.
“You are Muggle-born?”
“Half-blood, sir,” said Riddle. “Muggle father, witch mother.”
“And are both your parents -?”
“My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived just long enough to name me - Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather.”
Dipper clucked his tongue sympathetically.
“The thing is, Tom,” he sighed, “Special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances…”
“You mean all these attacks, sir?” said Riddle, and Harry's heart leapt, and he moved closer, scared of missing anything.
“Precisely,” said the headmaster. “My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy… the death of that poor little girl… You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school. We are no nearer locating the - er - source of all this unpleasantness…”
Riddle's eyes had widened.
“Sir - if the person was caught - if it all stopped—”
“What do you mean?” said Dippet with a squeak in his voice, sitting up in his chair. “Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?”
“No, sir,” said Riddle quickly.
But Harry was sure it was the same sort of “no” that he himself had given Dumbledore.
Dippet sank back, looking faintly disappointed.
“You may go, Tom…”
Riddle slid off his chair and slouched out of the room. Harry followed him.
Down the moving spiral staircase they went, emerging next to the gargoyle in the darkening corridor. Riddle stopped, and so did Harry, watching him. Harry could tell that Riddle was doing some serious thinking. He was biting his lip, his forehead furrowed.
Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, he hurried off, Harry gliding noiselessly behind him. They didn't see another person until they reached the entrance hall, when a tall wizard with long, sweeping auburn hair and a beard called to Riddle from the marble staircase.
“What are you doing, wandering around this late, Tom?”
Harry gaped at the wizard. He was none other than a fifty-year-younger Dumbledore.
“I had to see the headmaster, sir,” said Riddle.
“Well, hurry off to bed,” said Dumbledore, giving Riddle exactly the kind of penetrating stare Harry knew so well. “Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…”
He sighed heavily, bade Riddle good night, and strode off. Riddle watched him walk out of sight and then, moving quickly, headed straight down the stone steps to the dungeons, with Harry in hot pursuit.
But to Harry's disappointment, Riddle led him not into a hidden passageway or a secret tunnel but to the very dungeon in which Harry had Potions with Snape. The torches hadn't been lit, and when Riddle pushed the door almost closed, Harry could only just see him, standing stock-still by the door, watching the passage outside.
It felt to Harry that they were there for at least an hour. All he could see was the figure of Riddle at the door, staring through the crack, waiting like a statue. And just when Harry had stopped feeling expectant and tense and started wishing he could return to the present, he heard something move beyond the door.
Someone was creeping along the passage. He heard whoever it was pass the dungeon where he and Riddle were hidden. Riddle, quiet as a shadow, edged through the door and followed, Harry tiptoeing behind him, forgetting that he couldn't be heard.
For perhaps five minutes they followed the footsteps, until Riddle stopped suddenly, his head inclined in the direction of new noises. Harry heard a door creak open, and then someone speaking in a hoarse whisper.
“C'mon… gotta get yeh outta here… C'mon now… in the box…”
There was something familiar about that voice…
Riddle suddenly jumped around the corner. Harry stepped out behind him. He could see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it.
“Evening, Rubeus,” said Riddle sharply.
The boy slammed the door shut and stood up.
“What yer doin'down here, Tom?”
Riddle stepped closer.
“It's all over,” he said. “I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop.”
“N at d'yeh—”
“I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and—”
“It never killed no one!” said the large boy, backing against the closed door. From behind him, Harry could hear a funny rustling and clicking.
“Come on, Rubeus,” said Riddle, moving yet closer. “The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered…”
“It wasn't him!” roared the boy, his voice echoing in the dark passage. “He wouldn'! He never!”
“Stand aside,” said Riddle, drawing out his wand.
His spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind the large boy flew open with such force it knocked him into the wall opposite. And out of it came something that made Harry let out a long, piercing scream unheard by anyone.
A vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a pair of razor-sharp pincers - Riddle raised his wand again, but he was too late. The thing bowled him over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight. Riddle scrambled to his feet, looking after it; he raised his wand, but the huge boy leapt on him, seized his wand, and threw him back down, yelling, “NOOOOOO!”
The scene whirled, the darkness became complete; Harry felt himself falling and, with a crash, he landed spread-eagled on his four-poster in the Gryffindor dormitory, Riddle's diary lying open on his stomach.
Before he had had time to regain his breath, the dormitory door opened and Ron came in.
“There you are,” he said.
Harry sat up. He was sweating and shaking.
“What's up?” said Ron, looking at him with concern.
“It was Hagrid, Ron. Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.”荷米恩在医院侧楼待了几个星期。当其他的学生都过完圣诞节返校后，有一阵子流传着关于她失踪的流言，因为每个人都想当然的认为她受到了攻击。有那么多的学生排着队走过医院侧楼想要看她一眼，以致于波姆弗雷夫人又拿出床帷围住了荷米恩的床，免得她因别人被看到毛乎乎的脸庞而感到耻辱。 
　　哈利和罗恩每天晚上都去探望她。新学期开始后，他们给她带去每天的家庭作业。 
　　“如果是我长出了胡子，我一定甩掉功课休息一下。”一天晚上，罗恩把一堆书倒在荷米恩的床边的桌子上，说道。 
　　“别傻了，罗恩，我必须赶上。”荷米恩短促地说。她脸上的毛都脱落了，眼睛也慢慢变回棕色。这项变化大大地鼓舞了她。“我想，你没什么线索吧？”她悄声加了一句，以防波姆弗雷夫人听到。 
　　“没有。”哈利沮丧地说。 
　　“那是什么？”哈利指着荷米恩枕头上露出的一个金色的东西问。 
　　“只是一张康复卡。”荷米恩有些迟疑地说，想把它拨离视线。但是对于她来说罗恩的动作太快了。他把它抽出来展开，大声读起来：“致格兰佐小姐，祝你早日康复。关心你的老师，吉德洛。罗克哈特教授，默林等级——第三级，黑巫术防卫力量团的荣誉成员，男巫周报最有勉力微笑奖得主。” 
　　罗恩有些恶心，看了看荷米恩。 
　　“你把这放在你的枕头下枕着睡？” 
　　但是波姆弗雷夫人使她免了回答的窘迫——她拿着荷米恩晚上该服用的药走了过来。 
　　“罗克哈特是你所见过的最聪明的人，或者其它什么吗？”当他们离开医院往格林芬顿楼拾级而上时，罗恩对哈利说。史纳皮给他们布置了太多的作业。哈利觉得能做完的时候，他一定已经上六年级了。罗恩正在说着他很后悔没有问荷米恩在卡发药剂中得加多少条老鼠尾巴时，一声怒吼从上面传进了他们的耳朵。 
　　“是费驰。”哈利咕哝着。他们迅速走上楼梯，在费驰看不见的地方停住，站在视线外，凝神地听。 
　　“你认为还有人会受攻击吗？”罗恩紧张地说。 
　　他们静静地站着，头朝着费驰听起来歇斯底里的声音倾去。 
　　倾着头，听着资驰歇斯底里的声音。 
　　“……给我的工作够多了！还要整夜地擦，好像我的事还不够多！不，这是最后一根稻草了。我要去找丹伯多……” 
　　他的脚步声渐渐向后退，远处有一扇门砰地关上了。 
　　他们在角落里探头探脑。很明显，费驰通常在诺丽丝夫人曾被攻击的地方站岗。 
　　他们膘了一眼让费驰嚷嚷地原因：很多水四溢在大半个走廊里，而且似乎仍在从麦托勒的厕所中溢出。现在费驰不嚷嚷了，他们可以听到麦托勒的哭声从浴室的墙壁逸出。 
　　“那么，她怎么了？”罗恩说。 
　　“我们去看一下吧。”哈利说。他们把长袍拉过脚踝，踏着脚走过那一大滩水来到一扇挂着“故障”牌子的门前，像往常一样对它视而不见，走了进去。 
　　呻吟的麦托勒正在大哭，而且比以往哭得更大声，更厉害。她正藏在她常用的洗手间中，浴室根黑，因为那大水把蜡烛都熄灭了。 
　　“发生什么了，麦托勒？”哈利说。 
　　“是谁？”麦托勒难过地抽咽着，“在朝我扔些什么吧。” 
　　哈利费力的趟过她的小室，问：“我为什么要扔东西砸你？” 
　　“不要问我！”麦托勒大叫着。她站起来，弄起了更多的水，溅到早已湿透的地板上。“我现在在这儿，做我自己的事儿，而有人觉得朝我扔书很有趣……” 
　　“但即使是有人朝你扔东西也伤不了你。”哈利说得合情合理。 
　　“我是指，它会穿过你的身体，不是吗？” 
　　“你说错了话。”麦托勒尖叫起来，“让我们都朝麦托勒扔书吧。 
　　穿过胃10分！穿过头5分！好啊，哈哈！多好的游戏！我可不这么想！”“不管怎样，谁朝你扔东西？“哈利问。 
　　“我不知道……我当时正坐在浴缸，思考着死亡，它就直接穿过了我的头。” 
　　麦托勒怒视他们。“它在那儿，都被水泡褪色了。” 
　　哈利和罗恩往麦托勒指着的方向望去。那儿有一本薄薄的小书。它的黑色封面非常破旧，就像浴室里其余的东西一样湿。哈利走上前想拾起它，但罗恩突然伸出一只胳膊阻止了他。 
　　“怎么了？”哈利说。 
　　“你疯了吗？它可能很危险。”罗恩说。 
　　“危险？”哈利笑了。“别这样，它怎么会危险呢？” 
　　“你会很吃惊的。”罗恩说。他很忧虑的盯着书。“委员会没收的一些书——爸爸告诉我的——有一本可以把你的眼睛烧焦。无论任何人只要读完《一个魔法者的十四行诗》，一辈子就只能用肢体说话。 
　　还有，巴斯的一些老巫婆有一本书让你不得不一直读下去！你只需用你的鼻子嗅一下，尽量用一只手去做。而且——”“好的，我明白了。“哈利说。 
　　那本小书躺在地上，浸得湿湿的。 
　　“好了，但我们不看一下怎么知道。”他绕开罗恩从地板上抬起了书。 
　　哈利立刻看出那是一本日记。封皮上时间留下的痕迹告诉哈利这至少是五十年前的，他充满期待的翻开。在第一页，他只能从弄污的墨水中辨认出一个名字——瑞德。”“停一下。“罗恩小心翼翼地接近，从哈利的肩膀看过去，”我知道这个名字……50年前瑞德曾因对学校的特殊贡献获过奖。” 
　　“你究竟是怎么知道的？”哈利吃惊地说。 
　　“因为在禁烟中，费驰让我擦了他的盾形徽章五十多次。”罗恩愤恨地说，“就是让我弄得满徽章鼻涕的那个。如果你在一个名字上擦粘液擦一小时，你也会记得的。” 
　　哈利剥开湿本子，一片空白。页子上没有任何写过的痕迹，那就是说“马贝尔姨妈的生日”或“牙医，3点半”都没有。 
　　“他没写过。”哈利失望的说。 
　　“我不懂为什么有人想用水冲走它。”罗恩好奇地说。 
　　哈利转向封底，看到印着伦敦保克斯荷街一个报刊经销人的名字。 
　　“他一定不是有巫师血统的人。”哈利深思地说，“从威趣克拉夫特街买了一本日记……” 
　　“对你没什么用处。”罗恩说。他压低声音说，“如果穿过麦托勒的鼻子，50分。” 
　　但是，哈利把它端了起来。 
　　荷米恩月初离开了医院例楼，没有胡子、没有尾巴，也不再有毛了。她回到格林芬顿的第一个晚上，哈利给她看了瑞德的日记，并给她讲述了他们找到它的过程。 
　　“哦，它一定有什么隐藏的魔力。”荷术思拿过日记仔细的放近看。 
　　“如果说有，它一定藏得很好。”罗恩说，“或许它很害羞。哈利，我不知道你为什么不扔了它。” 
　　“我希望我知道为什么有人企图扔了它。”哈利说。“我很想知道瑞德是对霍格瓦彻做出了什么特殊贡献而得到了奖励？” 
　　“可能会是任何事情，”罗恩说。“或许他得到了30个欧罗克或从巨型章鱼口中救出了一位老师。或许他谋杀了麦托勒，那对每个人来说都是恩惠……” 
　　但是哈利从荷米恩脸上专注的表情看来，她和他所想一样。 
　　“怎么了？”罗恩从一个看向另一个。 
　　“这样的，秘室之谜是五十年前打开的，是吗？”她说，“麦托勒是这么说的。” 
　　“是……”罗恩迟缓地说。 
　　“这本日记也有50年了。”荷米思兴奋地轻拍着它。 
　　“因此？” 
　　“哦，罗恩，清醒一下。”荷米恩急促地说。“我们知道上次知道秘室之谜的人在五十年前被开除了。我们还知道瑞德在五十年前因对学校的特殊贡献而获奖。 
　　那么如果瑞德是因为抓到史林德林的后代而得奖呢？他的日记可能会告诉我们一切：神秘秘室在哪儿，如何打开它，是什么样的生物住在里边？这次攻击背后的罪犯并不愿这些被发现，不是吗？” 
　　“这是一个伟大的理论，荷米恩，”罗恩说。“仅有一点微小的缺点。那就是，日记上什么都没写！” 
　　但荷米恩正从书包抽出魔杖。 
　　“或许是隐迹墨水！”她低声说。 
　　她拍了日记三下，说：“阿帕尔斯安姆！” 
　　什么也没发生。毫不气馁地，荷米恩又把手伸入书包抽出一个外表像一块鲜红色橡皮的东西。 
　　“是一个显形器，我从戴根。阿尔里买到的。”她说。 
　　她在“一月一号”上用力的擦着，但仍没变化。 
　　“我告诉了你，什么也不会找得到的。”罗恩说，“瑞德只是为圣诞准备了一个空白日记本，却不想填进内容。” 
　　哈利即使是对自己也不能解释为什么他不愿扔了瑞德的日记。 
　　事实是，尽管他知道日记空白一片，他仍忍不住无意识的拿起它翻动着，好像那是一个他想完全的故事。虽然，哈利非常确定他从未听过瑞德这样一个名字，但它仍然好像对他来说意味着什么，几乎就像瑞德是他遗忘的儿时的玩伴。但这太荒谬了。他在进霍格瓦彻之前从没有过朋友，达德里可以作证。 
　　不管怎样，哈利决心多了解一些瑞德，因此第二天一大早，他就由兴致勃勃的荷米恩和完全没被说服的罗恩陪伴着到奖品室去看瑞德的特殊奖章。 
　　瑞德打磨得很光亮的金质徽章被放在一个角柜中，没有记载颁发的详细原因。 
　　“也是一件好事，不然它就更大了，我肯定现在还在打光。”罗恩说。然而，他们的确在一张古旧的魔法优秀奖章和过去的顶尖男孩名单上找到了他的名字。 
　　“听起来好像伯希，”罗恩厌恶地皱了皱鼻子。“太好了，顶尖男孩——大概是每一个班的头。” 
　　“你说起来好像那是一件坏事。”荷米恩用有点受伤的口气说。 
　　微弱的太阳光又开始照耀霍格瓦彻了。城堡中也更有生机了。 
　　从贾斯丁和无头尼克之后，就没再发生攻击事件了。史鲍特教授高兴地宣布说，万锐克变得烦燥不安，这显示着它们正很快的长大。 
　　“他们的粉剂好了就又可以移盆了。”哈利听到一天下午她友好地对费驰说。 
　　“而后，我们就可以把它们切片炖药。很快诺丽丝夫人就可以痊愈了。” 
　　或许是史林德林的后代失去了勇气，哈利想。整个学校如此警惕和疑心，揭开秘室之谜一定得冒险，或许那只怪兽，不管它是什么，又蛰伏了五十年…… 
　　尔尼并没有感染这种令人振奋的气氛。他仍相信哈利是有罪的，因为他在格斗俱乐部泄露了机密。皮维斯总是唱着“哦，波特，你这个坏蛋……”出现在拥挤的走廊上，而且现在又配上了舞蹈动作。 
　　吉德洛。罗克哈特自认为是他阻止了攻击。当格林芬顿正安排变身术表演时，哈利无意中听到他这样告诉麦康娜教授的。 
　　“我觉得不会再有什么麻烦了，米娜，”他轻轻地摸着鼻子，眨眨眼。“我想这回神秘秘室永远锁上了。凶手一定已经知道，我抓住他们只是迟早的问题，在我开始采取行动对待他们之前，最好识相停止。” 
　　“你知道，现在学校需要的是一个鼓舞士气的人。把上学期的记忆全都清掉！ 
　　我现在不能多说，但我想我正好知道这方面……” 
　　他又摸了一下鼻子，走开了。 
　　罗克哈特关于一个鼓舞士气者的想法在2月以至14日的早餐时间明朗化了。哈利由于前天晚上练快迪斯练得很晚以至没有睡够，所以匆匆赶到大礼堂时晚了点。 
　　有好一会儿，他还猜疑自己是不是走错了门。 
　　所有的墙都被大而艳丽的粉红色的花朵覆盖了。更糟的是，淡蓝色的天花板上垂挂着心形的彩纸。哈利走到格林芬顿的桌边看到罗恩面现厌恶地坐着，而荷米恩非常用力才憋住了笑声。 
　　“这是在干什么？”哈利问他们，他坐下来，拂去大腿上的彩纸。 
　　罗恩用手指了指台上，明显是恶心得讲不出话来。穿着鲜艳的粉红长袍来配这些装饰的罗克哈特正挥舞着手请求安静，他两边的老师都很僵硬地站着。从他坐的地方，哈利可以看到麦康娜教授腮边的肌肉在微微牵动。史纳皮看起来就好像有人刚刚强灌他一大杯助骨水。 
　　“情人节快乐！”罗克哈特大喊道。“我很感谢到现在为止送了卡给46人！是的，我布置了图书馆，送给你们所有人一个惊喜——还不止这个呢！！” 
　　罗克哈特拍了下手，从入场大厅的大门走来了一队横眉坚目的小天使。然而，并不是真正的天使，罗克哈特让他们都插上金色的翅膀，抱着竖琴。 
　　“我友好的带满卡片的丘比特！”罗克哈特微笑着，“他们今天将在学校内巡回向你们散发情人卡！趣味并不仅止于此！我相信我的同事们也都希望加入到这个场合中，让我们来看一看史纳皮教授是如何制出爱情之药的！弗立特教授则比我所见过的任何巫师都懂得如何增添扭力，这个老滑头！”弗立特教授把脸埋在手心里，史纳皮看起来好像要灌第一个开口要他爱情之药的人毒药。 
　　“噢，荷米恩，快告诉我你不是那物个人中的一员。”罗恩在离开大礼堂去上第一节课的时候问。而荷米思则突然以极大的兴趣翻书包找她的时间表，没有回答。 
　　一整天，小天使们不停的闯入课堂散发情人卡，这使老师们非常恼火。那天下午晚些时候，当格林芬顿的学生正往楼上走去上课时，他们中的一个赶上了哈利。 
　　“唷，你啊！哈利。波特！”一个最为愁眉苦脸的小天使，挤开人群接近了哈利。 
　　想到要当着一队一年级学生，尤其是金妮。威斯里也在其中，被塞给一张情人卡，哈利浑身都烧起来了。哈利准备溜走。然而，那个小矮人踢着人们的小腿越过人群切断了哈利的路，哈利还没跑出两步就被拦住了。 
　　“我要亲自告诉哈利。波特一个好消息。”他说，并以一种示威的方式拨了一下竖琴。 
　　“不是在这儿。”哈利嘘了一声，想逃。 
　　“站着别动！”小矮人狞笑着，抓住哈利的包往回拉。 
　　“放我走！”哈利咆哮着，用力拉扯。 
　　随着一声很响的撕裂声，他的书、魔杖、羊皮文稿，羽毛笔都掉到了地上，墨水瓶也在地上摔得粉碎。 
　　哈利四处乱抓，想在小矮人开始唱歌，在走廊里造成暴力抢劫之前把所有的东西都捡起来。 
　　“这儿怎么了？”传来杰高。马尔夫冰冷而拉长了声音。哈利开始心急火燎的把所有的东西往他被扯烂的书包中塞，绝望的想在马尔夫听到他的音乐卡之前离开。 
　　“这儿怎么这么混乱？”另一个熟悉的声音响起，伯希。威斯里到了。 
　　哈利张俊先措地想逃跑，但是小矮人抓住他的膝盖把他带倒在地板上。 
　　“好了，”他坐在哈利的脚踝上说，“这儿是你的音乐情人卡。” 
　　“他的眼睛绿得好像鲜活的醉蟾蜍，他的头发如同黑板一样漆黑，我希望他是我的。他是那样的可爱，战胜黑暗巫师的英雄。” 
　　哈利愿不惜一切代价从这儿蒸发掉。勉强的和大家一起微笑着，他站了起来，感觉到因为被坐过的脚麻麻的，伯希。威斯里则努力驱散人群，有些人仍在哄堂大笑。 
　　“走开，走开，铃响了5分钟了，快走开去上课，”他把那些低年级学生驱走，“还有你，马尔夫。” 
　　哈利一眼瞟过去，看到马尔夫弯腰拾起了什么。充满敌意的，他把它给克来伯和高尔。哈利意识到他拿了瑞德的日记。 
　　“还我。”哈利平静地说。 
　　“想知道波特写了什么？”马尔夫说。很明显他没有注意到封皮上的日期，还以为那是哈利自己的日记。一阵寂静笼罩在周围。金妮从日记看向哈利，看起来很害怕。 
　　“拿过来。”伯希严厉地说。 
　　“等我看一眼。”马尔夫嘲弄地朝哈利摇着日记。 
　　马尔夫大声念道：“作为一个学校的‘三好’徽章获得者——”但哈利的脾气上来了，他抽出魔杖叫道：“依斯毕利文玛斯！”就像史纳皮解除罗克哈特的兵器一样，马尔夫发现日记从他手中射向天空。 
　　罗恩接住了它，咧嘴一笑。 
　　“哈利！”伯希叫着：“走廊上不得使用魔法，你知道，我得报告老师！” 
　　哈利不在乎，他占了上风，那比任何一天从格林芬顿扣除5分都值得，马尔夫极为愤怒。当金妮经过他回教室时，他冲她恶意地大叫“我认为波特喜欢你的情人卡！” 
　　金妮以手掩面跑进教室。罗恩咆哮着抽出了他的魔杖，他被哈利拽开了。他不必施上次吐鼻涕虫的咒语了。 
　　直到他们到了弗立特的课上，哈利才注意到瑞德的日记的异常。 
　　其它所有的书都沾上了红墨水。只有那本日记仍同墨水瓶在它之上碎掉前一般干净。他想告诉罗恩这一点。但罗恩的魔杖又出问题了，一大串紫色的泡泡在魔杖尾端冒了出来，他对其他的事一点兴趣都没有。 
　　那天晚上哈利比宿舍里其他人上床都早。这有一部分原因是他无法忍受弗来德和乔治再唱一次，“他的眼睛绿得像和鲜活的醉赠除‘，另一部分原因是因为他想再看一次瑞德的日记。虽然他知道罗恩认为他在浪费时间。 
　　哈利坐在他的床上翻动着日记，没有一页沾上了红墨水迹。然后他从他的床头柜中取出了一瓶新的墨水，用羽毛蘸了一下，在日记的第一页滴了一滴。 
　　不一会儿，墨水在纸上闪着光，然后好像被纸吸收了，它消失了。 
　　哈利兴奋地又用羽毛笔蘸了一下，写下“我叫哈利。波特”。 
　　这些话也在短暂地闪烁一下后不见了。然后，终于有了动静。 
　　借他的墨水，一些哈利从未写过的话从这一页中缓缓浮现。 
　　“你好，哈利。波特，我叫瑞德，你怎么得到我的日记的？” 
　　这些话在哈利开始匆匆的写下下面的话时，也消失了。 
　　“有人试图把它从马桶内冲走。” 
　　他期待着瑞德的答复。 
　　“很幸运我用比墨水更持久的东西记录了我的回忆。但是一直都知道有人不愿别人读我的日记。” 
　　“你指什么？”哈利草草地写着。在兴奋中弄污了纸。 
　　“我是指这本日记记录的是一些可怕的事情，一些被掩饰的情，在霍格瓦彻魔法学校发生的事情。” 
　　“就是我现在呆的地方。”哈利飞快地写，“就在霍格瓦彻这儿发生了可怕的事情。你知道关于神秘秘室的情况吗？” 
　　他的心跳加剧。瑞德回复得很快，他的笔迹更凌乱了，好像他正急于讲出所有他知道的。 
　　“我当然知道秘室之谜。在我那里，他们告诉我们这只是一个神话，它并不存在。但这是谎言。在我5年级时，秘室被打开了，怪兽出来袭击了好几个学生，并且最终有一学生丧生了，我抓住了打开秘室的人，他被开除了。但是校长达皮教授觉得这种事情发生在霍格瓦彻是一种耻辱，因此不准我说出真相。他们编造了那个女孩在意外中丧生的谎言。他们颁给我一块很好的发亮的雕刻奖品并警告我缄口。 
　　但我知道这会再次发生的。怪兽还活着，那个有能力放出它的人还没被关起来。” 
　　哈利的毛笔悬在日记上方犹豫了一下。瑞德是什么意思？他怎么能被带进别人的记忆？他有些紧张的朝宿舍门口望了一眼，越来越黑了。当他看回日记时，他看到了一行新出现的字。 
　　“我证实给你看。” 
　　哈利停顿了一瞬，然后写下两个字。 
　　“好的。” 
　　日记的页子开始吹动，就像起了一场大风一样，在六月中旬的地方停了下来。 
　　哈利目瞪口呆地看在六月十三日的那一小片地方似乎变成了一个极小的电视屏幕。 
　　他用微微颤抖的手捧起书将眼睛朝那个小窗凑去，他还没明白过来，就被吸了进去。 
　　窗口不断加宽，他感觉到他的躯体正离开床，通过那一页的开口，他正被吸入到彩色与阴影交错的漩涡当中。 
　　他感到自己的脚触到了结实的地面，就站好，浑身发抖。他周围的一片模糊突然变得清晰无比。 
　　他马上明白了自己身处何地。这间有着睡眠画像的圆形房间是丹伯多的办公室——但办公桌后坐着的并非丹伯多。一个干瘪、瘦弱，除了一小撮白发几乎是秃头的巫师正借着烛光读信。哈利以前从未见过此人。 
　　“我很抱歉。”他颤抖着说，“我不是有意要撞过来……” 
　　但那巫师根本没抬头。他继续看信，眉头微皱着。哈利走进一些，结巴着说，“嗯，——我应该现在就走吗？” 
　　那个巫师还是没搭理他。他似乎根本没听到他说话。 
　　考虑到那个巫师可能有点聋，他提高了声音。 
　　“真是不好意思，打扰了您，我现在就走。”他几乎在喊。 
　　那巫师叹了一口气把信折起来，站起身，没有瞟哈利一眼就走过他旁边去拉窗帘。 
　　窗外的天是红宝石色的，差不多正是太阳落山的时候，那巫师走回办公桌，坐下，捻弄着拇指，望向门口。 
　　哈利环视着办公室。没有达摩克，也没有银器具的嗡嗡声。这是瑞德所知的霍格瓦彻，也就是说校长是哈利不认识的巫师，而不是丹伯多，而他，哈利只不过是个幽灵，在50年前人的眼里是完全看不见的。 
　　有人敲了敲办公室的门。 
　　“进来。”老巫师用虚弱的声音说。 
　　一个大约16岁的男孩走了进来，脱下他的尖顶帽，他的胸前闪耀着一个三好的徽章。他比哈利高多了，但他也有一头黑亮的头发。 
　　“啊，瑞德，”校长说。 
　　“你想见我？皮达教授？”瑞德说。他看起来很紧张。 
　　“坐下吧，”皮达说，“我刚读完你给我的信。” 
　　“噢。”瑞德说，他坐下来，紧紧地绞着手。 
　　“我亲爱的孩子，”皮达和蔼地说，“我不可能让你在学校呆一个夏天。当然你是想回家度过假期的，是吗？” 
　　“不，”瑞德立刻说，“我宁愿呆在霍格瓦彻也不愿回到那个——那个——” 
　　“你在假期中住在一家马格人孤儿院是吗？”皮达好奇地说。 
　　“是的，先生。”瑞德有些脸红。 
　　“你是非巫师血统？” 
　　“一半，先生。”瑞德说，“父亲是普通人，母亲是女巫。” 
　　“那么你的双亲都——？” 
　　“我母亲生下我就去世了，先生。他们说她只来得急给我起名字：汤姆是我父亲，马沃罗是我祖父。” 
　　皮达同情地咋了咋舌头。 
　　“汤姆，现在情况是，”他叹了口气，“可能对你会有些特殊安排，但是在现在的环境下……” 
　　“你是指那些攻击事件吗，先生？”瑞德问。哈利的心猛地跳了一拍。他往前挪一步，生怕漏掉了什么东西。 
　　“完全正确，”校长说。“我亲爱的孩子，你一定可以看出如果学期结束还让你留在学校中是一个多么愚蠢的想法，特别是近来的悲剧……那个可怜的女孩的去世……至少在你的孤儿院，你会更安全，事实上，魔法委员会甚至在讨论关闭学校。 
　　我们不可能更接受——嗯——灾祸之源……” 
　　瑞德的眼睛瞪大了。 
　　“先生——如果那个被抓住了——如果这些都结束了……” 
　　“你指什么？”皮达声音有些尖利，他从椅子里直起身来。“瑞德，你是指，你知道有关这些攻击事件的什么？” 
　　“不是，先生。”瑞德很快回答。 
　　但哈利明白，那与他给丹伯多的“不是”是一样的。 
　　皮达坐回去，流露出轻微的失望。 
　　“你可以走了，瑞德……” 
　　瑞德从椅子上滑下来，有些僵硬的走出房间，哈利跟在他后面。 
　　他们走下旋转楼梯，走过黑暗走廊中的装饰漏嘴。瑞德停了下来，哈利也停下来看着他。哈利确定，瑞德正在考虑很严肃的事情。 
　　他咬着嘴唇，前额堆起了皱纹。 
　　然后，似乎他突然间作出了决定。他匆忙的走了。哈利也悄无声息地飘行在他后面，他们直到到了入场大厅才看到别的人，一个有红褐色头发和胡子的高个子巫师在大理石楼梯上叫住了瑞德。 
　　“你在干什么，这么晚了还在瞎逛，瑞德？” 
　　哈利盯着那个巫师。他正是50年前的史纳皮。 
　　“我要见校长，先生。”瑞德说。 
　　“好了，快上床吧。”史纳皮用哈利所熟知的方式，颇有洞察力地瞪了瑞德一眼，“这些天最好不要在走廊上徘徊。自从……” 
　　他重重地叹了一口气，祝瑞德晚安就走开了。瑞德看着他走出视线，就迅速走下石头台阶朝地牢走去。哈利紧紧跟着。 
　　但让哈利失望的是，瑞德并没有把他领进一条秘密通道而是来到了哈利上史纳皮的药剂课的地方。火把没点亮，所以当瑞德推开几乎关着的门时，哈利只能看到瑞德一动不动的站在门边，看着外面的通道。 
　　哈利觉得他们在那呆了至少有一小时。他只能看到瑞德的身影。他透过门缝向外望着，好像一尊雕塑，在等什么。就在哈利不再觉得期待和紧张，希望可以回到现实时，他听到门外有东西在移动。 
　　有人正沿通道爬行。他听到不知是谁经过了他和瑞德藏身之处。瑞德像一只影子一样安静的从门缝侧身跟了上去。哈利忘了根本没人能看到他，摄手蹑脚的走在他后面。 
　　他们沿楼梯走了大约有5分钟，直到瑞德突然停止，朝新的声音探过脑袋。哈利听到门开了，然后有人用沙哑的声音悄声说话。 
　　“过来……把你带来……过来……到盒子里来……” 
　　这声音很熟。 
　　瑞德突然从角落跳了出来，哈利也跟在他后面跳了出来。哈利可以看到一个高大男孩的黑色轮廓，他正站在一扇打开的门前边，旁边是一只大盒子。 
　　“晚上好，鲁比斯。”瑞德尖利地说。 
　　那男孩并上了门，站了起来。 
　　“你在这儿干嘛，瑞德？” 
　　瑞德走近一步。 
　　“结束了。”他说，“我不得不把你汇报上去，鲁比斯，如果攻击不停止，他们就要关闭学校了。” 
　　“你是说——” 
　　“我知道你并不想杀任何人，但怪兽并不是好东西，我想你大概只想让它出来活动——” 
　　“它从未伤过任何人。”那个壮实的男孩背靠在紧闭的门上。在他后面，哈利可以听到一种有趣的突突声和咋嗒声。 
　　“来吧，鲁比斯，”瑞德又挪近了一些。“那个死去的女孩儿的父母明天就来了。至少霍格瓦彻应该杀掉杀死他们女儿的东西……” 
　　“不是他！”男孩吼出来。他的声音回响在黑暗的过道中：“他不会的！他从没有！” 
　　“站一边去。”瑞德抽出魔杖。 
　　他的魔咒用火焰光芒照亮了整个走廊。那个男孩子背后的门猛地被撞倒了，那男孩也被撞到了对面的墙上。从门里走出来的东西使哈利发出了只有他自己才能听到的长而凄厉的尖叫。 
　　巨大的，行动缓慢、毛茸茸的身体，一团黑色的腿，许多眼睛闪闪发光，和一对锋利的钳子——瑞德又举起了他的魔杖，但太晚了。那东西通过走廊逃跑时撞翻了他，很快就不见了。瑞德在脚边乱摸着找魔杖。他又举起魔杖，但是那个男孩跳到他身上，夺过魔杖，远远的扔到后面，大叫：“不——！” 
　　那场景又旋转着，成为完全的黑暗。哈利感到他自己在下降，又降到了他的床上，在格林芬顿的宿舍里，瑞德的日记正打开平放在他的胃部。 
　　还没等他喘一口气，宿舍门就打开了。罗恩走了进来。 
　　“你在这儿啊。”他说。 
　　哈利坐了起来。他浑身颤抖汗流不止。 
　　“怎么了？”罗恩关心
Chapter 14 Cornelius Fudge
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures. During their first year at Hogwarts he had tried to raise a dragon in his little wooden house, and it would be a long time before they forgot the giant, three-headed dog he'd christened “Fluffy.” And if, as a boy, Hagrid had heard that a monster was hidden somewhere in the castle, Harry was sure he'd have gone to any lengths for a glimpse of it. He'd probably thought it was a shame that the monster had been cooped up so long, and thought it deserved the chance to stretch its many legs; Harry could just imagine the thirteen-year-old Hagrid trying to fit a leash and collar on it. But he was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody.
Harry half wished he hadn't found out how to work Riddle's diary. Again and again Ron and Hermione made him recount what he'd seen, until he was heartily sick of telling them and sick of the long, circular conversations that followed.
“Riddle might have got the wrong person,” said Hermione. “Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people…”
“How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?” Ron asked dully.
“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled,” said Harry miserably. “And the attacks must've stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn't have got his award.”
Ron tried a different tack.
“Riddle does sound like Percy - who asked him to squeal on Hagrid, anyway?”
“But the monster had killed someone, Ron,” said Hermione.
“And Riddle was going to go back to some Muggle orphanage if they closed Hogwarts,” said Harry. “I don't blame him for wanting to stay here…”
“You met Hagrid down Knockturn Alley, didn't you, Harry?”
“He was buying a Flesh-Eating Slug Repellent,” said Harry quickly.
The three of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hermione voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.
“Do you think we should go and ask Hagrid about it all?”
“That'd be a cheerful visit,” said Ron. ” Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'”
In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and nearly everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Peeves had finally got bored of his “Oh, Potter, you rotter” song, Ernie Macmillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy.
“The moment they start trying to move into each other's pots, we'll know they're fully mature,” she told Harry. “Then we'll be able to revive those poor people in the hospital wing.”
The second years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, a matter that Hermione, at least, took very seriously.
“…it could affect our whole future,” she told Harry and Ron as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.
“I just want to give up Potions,” said Harry.
“We can't,” said Ron gloomily. “We keep all our old subjects, or I'd've ditched Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
“But that's very important!” said Hermione, shocked.
“Not the way Lockhart teaches it,” said Ron. “I haven't learned anything from him except not to set pixies loose.”
Neville Longbottom had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes. Dean Thomas, who, like Harry, had grown up with Muggles, ended up closing his eyes and jabbing his wand at the list, then picking the subjects it landed on. Hermione took nobody's advice but signed up for everything.
Harry smiled grimly to himself at the thought of what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would say if he tried to discuss his career in wizardry with them. Not that he didn't get any guidance: Percy Weasley was eager to share his experience.
“Depends where you want to go, Harry,” he said. “It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them - look at my father, he has to deal with Muggle business all the time. My brother Charlie was always more of an outdoor type, so he went for Care of Magical Creatures. Play to your strengths, Harry.”
But the only thing Harry felt he was really good at was Quidditch. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Ron, feeling that if he was lousy at them, at least he'd have someone friendly to help him.
Gryffindor's next Quidditch match would be against Hufflepuff. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Harry barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. However, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and the evening before Saturday's match he went up to his dormitory to drop off his broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better.
But his cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, he met Neville Longbottom, who was looking frantic.
“Harry - I don't know who did it - I just found—”
Watching Harry fearfully, Neville pushed open the door.
The contents of Harry's trunk had been thrown everywhere. His cloak lay ripped on the floor. The bedclothes had been pulled off his four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of his bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.
Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. As he and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly.
“What happened, Harry?”
“No idea,” said Harry. But Ron was examining Harry's robes. All the pockets were hanging out.
“Someone's been looking for something,” said Ron. “Is there anything missing?”
Harry started to pick up all his things and throw them into his trunk. It was only as he threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that he realized what wasn't there.
“Riddle's diary's gone,” he said in an undertone to Ron.
“What?”
Harry jerked his head toward the dormitory door and Ron followed him out. They hurried down to the Gryffindor common room, which was half-empty, and joined Hermione, who was sitting alone, reading a book called Ancient Runes Made Easy .
Hermione looked aghast at the news.
“But - only a Gryffindor could have stolen - nobody else knows our password—”
“Exactly,” said Harry.
They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.
“Perfect Quidditch conditions!” said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. “Harry, buck up there, you need a decent breakfast.”
Harry had been staring down the packed Gryffindor table, wondering if the new owner of Riddle's diary was right in front of his eyes. Hermione had been urging him to report the robbery, but Harry didn't like the idea. He'd have to tell a teacher all about the diary, and how many people knew why Hagrid had been expelled fifty years ago? He didn't want to be the one who brought it all up again.
As he left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to go and collect his Quidditch things, another very serious worry was added to Harry's growing list. He had just set foot on the marble staircase when he heard it yet again.
“Kill this time… let me rip… tear…”
He shouted aloud and Ron and Hermione both jumped away from him in alarm.
“The voice!” said Harry, -looking over his shoulder. “I just heard it again - didn't you?”
Ron shook his head, wide-eyed. Hermione, however, clapped a hand to her forehead.
“Harry - I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!”
And she sprinted away, up the stairs.
“What does she understand?” said Harry distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.
“Loads more than I do,” said Ron, shaking his head.
“But why's she got to go to the library?”
“Because that's what Hermione does,” said Ron, shrugging. “When in doubt, go to the library.”
Harry stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind him, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.
“You'd better get moving,” said Ron. “It's nearly eleven - the match—”
Harry raced up to Gryffindor Tower, collected his Nimbus Two Thousand, and joined the large crowd swarming across the grounds, but his mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice, and as he pulled on his scarlet robes in the locker room, his only comfort was that everyone was now outside to watch the game.
The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver Wood took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics.
Harry was just mounting his broom when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.
Harry's heart dropped like a stone.
“This match has been cancelled,” Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall without getting off his broomstick.
“But, Professor!” he shouted. “We've got to play - the cup - Gryffindor—”
Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:
“All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!”
Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry over to her.
“Potter, I think you'd better come with me…”
Wondering how she could possibly suspect him this time, Harry saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To Harry's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object.
“Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley…”
Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Harry and Ron followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. But they weren't taken to anybody's office this time.
“This will be a bit of a shock,” said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. “There has been another attack… another double attack.”
Harry's insides did a horrible somersault. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and he and Ron entered. . Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth-year girl with long, curly hair. Harry recognized her as the Ravenclaw they'd accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was—
“Hermione!” Ron groaned.
Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy.
“They were found near the library,” said Professor McGonagall. “I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them…”
She was holding up a small, circular mirror.
Harry and Ron shook their heads, both staring at Hermione.
“I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower,” said Professor McGonagall heavily. “I need to address the students in any case.”
“All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”
The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, “I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward.”
She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.
“That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff, ” said the Weasley twins'friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. “Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?” he roared, to nods and scattered applause.
Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.
“Percy's in shock,” George told Harry quietly. “That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect.”
But Harry was only half-listening. He didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Hermione, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone. And if the culprit wasn't caught soon, he was looking at a lifetime back with the Dursleys. Tom Riddle had turned Hagrid in because he was faced with the prospect of a Muggle orphanage if the school closed. Harry now knew exactly how he had felt.
“What're we going to do?” said Ron quietly in Harry's ear. “D'you think they suspect Hagrid?”
“We've got to go and talk to him,” said Harry, making up his mind. “I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start.”
“But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class—”
“I think,” said Harry, more quietly still, “it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again.”
Harry had inherited just one thing from his father: a long and silvery Invisibility Cloak. It was their only chance of sneaking out of the school to visit Hagrid without anyone knowing about it. They went to bed at the usual time, waited until Neville, Dean, and Seamus had stopped discussing the Chamber of Secrets and finally fallen asleep, then got up, dressed again, and threw the cloak over themselves.
The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn't enjoyable. Harry, who had wandered the castle at night several times before, had never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open.
It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house and pulled off the cloak only when they were right outside his front door.
Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.
“Oh,” he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. “What're you two doin'here?”
“What's that for?” said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.
“Nothin’- nothin’-” Hagrid muttered. “I've bin expectin’- doesn'matter - Sit down - I'll make tea—”
He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.
“Are you okay, Hagrid?” said Harry. “Did you hear about Hermione?”
“Oh, I heard, all righ',” said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.
He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them both large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door.
Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry and Ron exchanged panicstricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.
“Good evening, Hagrid.”
It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very odd-looking man.
The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.
“That's Dad's boss!” Ron breathed. “Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!”
Harry elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up.
Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.
“Bad business, Hagrid,” said Fudge in rather clipped tones. “Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act.”
“I never,” said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. “You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir—”
“I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.
“Look, Albus,” said Fudge, uncomfortably. “Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something - the school governors have been in touch—”
“Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest,” said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire Harry had never seen before.
“Look at it from my point of view,” said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. “I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty—”
“Take me?” said Hagrid, who was trembling. “Take me where?”
“For a short stretch only,” said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. “Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology—”
“Not Azkaban?” croaked Hagrid.
Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.
Dumbledore answered it. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs; he'd let out an audible gasp.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.
“Already here, Fudge,” he said approvingly. “Good, good…”
“What're you doin'here?” said Hagrid furiously. “Get outta my house!”
“My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your - er - d'you call this a house?” said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. “I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here.”
“And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?” said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.
“Dreadful thing, Dumbledore,” said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, “but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn't it? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school.”
“Oh, now, see here, Lucius,” said Fudge, looking alarmed, “Dumbledore suspended - no, no - last thing we want just now.”
“The appointment - or suspension - of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge,” said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. “And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks—”
“See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them,” said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, “I mean to say, who can?”
“That remains to be seen,” said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. “But as all twelve of us have voted—”
Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.
An'how many did yeh have ter threaten an'blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?” he roared.
“Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid,” said Mr. Malfoy. “I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all.”
“Yeh can'take Dumbledore!” yelled Hagrid, making Fang the boarhound cower and whimper in his basket. “Take him away, an'the Muggle-borns won'stand a chance! There'll be killin'next!”
“Calm yourself, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy.
“If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside—”
“But -” stuttered Fudge.
“No!” growled Hagrid.
Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy's cold gray ones.
“However,” said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, “you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me… Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”
For a second, Harry was almost sure Dumbledore's eyes flickered toward the corner where he and Ron were hidden.
“Admirable sentiments,” said Malfoy, bowing. “We shall all miss your - er - highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope your successor willl manage to prevent any - ah - killins.”
He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, “If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead em right. That's all I'm sayin'.”
Fudge stared at him in amazement.
“All right, I'm comin', said Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, “An'someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away.”
The door banged shut and Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.
“We're in trouble now,” Ron said hoarsely. “No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone.”
Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door.哈利，罗恩和荷米恩一向知道哈格力对于巨大而丑陋可怕的动物有一种莫名的喜爱。当他在霍格瓦彻上一年级时，他一度尝试过在他的小秘室里豢养一条火龙。 
　　还有那只他们需要很长时间才能忘记的他称为“弗拉菲”的巨大的，有三个头的狗。 
　　并且，当他还是个小男孩的时候，如果听说有一只怪兽被藏在城堡的某处，哈利肯定不管走多远，他都会去看一眼的。他会认为一只怪兽被囚禁了那么久是一个天大的耻辱，并且认为应该给它一个机会伸展一下它的四肢，哈利简直可以想象出哈格力试着给它套上绳索项圈的样子。 
　　同时，他也同样相信，哈格力从不打算杀掉任何人，哈利有点希望他从未找过解释瑞德的日记的方法，罗恩和荷米恩一遍遍的让他所看到的，直到他打心底儿厌烦了时他们的讲述和随之而来的重复的对话：“瑞德一定找错人了，”荷米恩说，“或许攻击人的是其它什么怪兽……” 
　　“你觉得这儿能容下多少怪兽？”罗恩闷闷地说。 
　　“我们都已经知道哈格力已经被驱逐了。”哈利愁眉苦脸地说：“哈格力被踢出后攻击一定已经停止了。不然，瑞德是得不到报酬的。” 
　　罗恩换了一种口吻。 
　　“不管怎么说，瑞德听起来的确很像伯希——那个出卖哈格力的人？” 
　　“但是那只怪兽已经杀了人，罗恩。”荷米恩说。“并且如果霍格瓦彻被关闭的话，瑞德只能回到某个马格人孤儿院去，”哈利说，“我不会因他想留在这儿而责怪他……” 
　　罗恩咬了一下嘴唇，犹豫地说，“你在沃洛肯小巷碰到了哈格力，是吧，哈利？” 
　　“他当时在买除鼻涕虫驱虫剂。”哈利说得很快。 
　　他们三个陷入沉寂中。隔了好长一会儿，荷米恩迟疑的问出了最棘手的问题：“你们认为我们是否该不该问一下哈格力吗？” 
　　“那将会是一次令人欢欣鼓舞的拜访。”罗恩说。“你好，哈格力，告诉我们，你最近有没有在城堡中设置什么令人疯狂和不快的活套啊？” 
　　最终，他们决定只要不再有另一次的攻击，他们就不告诉哈格力任何事情，并且随着一天一天慢慢过去，不再有一丁点恐怖的声音出现，他们渐渐抱有不必告诉哈格力他被开除的原因的希望了。 
　　现在距离贾斯丁和尼克受到袭击已经有将近四个月了，每个人似乎都认为那个攻击者，不管它是谁，已经停止作恶了。皮维斯终于厌倦了他的。“噢，波特，你这个坏蛋。”之歌。尔尼有一天在草药库非常礼貌的请波特帮他递了一些伞菌，3月里，迈锐克还在三号温室进行了聒噪的聚会。这使史鲍特教授很高兴。 
　　“当他们开始朝对方的盆子里移动时，我们就可以知道他们已经完全成熟了。” 
　　她告诉哈利，“这样我们就可以救活在医院病房的那些可怜人了。” 
　　二年级学生在他们复活节假期不得不考虑一件事情。他们应该选择他们三年级的课程了。这是一件至少让荷米恩严肃对待的事情。 
　　“这将会影响到你们的一生，”她告诉哈利和罗恩。他们一边仔细查阅科目表一边，打着记号。 
　　“我就是想放弃药剂课。”哈利说。 
　　“我们不能这样，”罗恩沮丧地说，“我们得保留我们所有的科本，不然我就早就放弃黑巫术防卫课了。” 
　　“但是，那一门非常重要！”荷米恩有些震惊。 
　　“我可不喜欢罗克哈特的教学方式。”罗恩说，“除了了解他的喜好之外，我没从他那儿学到任何东西。” 
　　尼维尔。兰博顿家族中的所有巫婆和巫师都写信来给他提供选科目的种种不同建议。 
　　这使得他坐在那儿伸着舌头看科目表，问着周围的人，魔算法是否比远古演练难。达恩。拖马斯，那个像哈利一样是和马格人生活的男孩，则闭上眼睛，用他的小魔杖去扎那张科目表，然后选择了魔杖刺中的科目。荷米恩谁的意见也没有听，注册了所有的课程。 
　　当哈利想到如果他试着与姨丈姨妈讨论他的巫术专业，他们会有什么反应。这不是说他没有受到任何指导，伯希。威斯里就非常希望能提供意见给他。 
　　“这取决于你想去哪儿，哈利。”他说。 
　　“得早点为未来打算，我建议学占卜学。人们都说马格学是一种避重就轻的选择，但是我个人认为巫师应该对这个不懂魔法的团体有一个全面的了解，尤其是他们希望与团体有紧密联系的时候——看看我的父亲，他总是要和马格人打交道的。 
　　我哥哥查理属于比较喜爱户外活动的类型，所以他选择了照顾魔法生物。发展你的长处，哈利。“但是，唯一可以让哈利觉得自己擅长的是快迪斯球。 
　　最终，他还是选择了与罗恩同样的新科目。这样，即使一窍不通，至少还有一个人可以帮助他。 
　　格林芬顿的下一场快迪斯队比赛使得伍德坚持每天晚上晚餐之后都进行团队训练，因此除了快迪斯球和家庭作业之外，哈利几乎抽不出什么时间干别的事了。不过，训练情况是越来越好了，至少队员不用老淋雨了。到的比赛的前一天晚上，他走向宿舍去放他的扫帚，感觉格林芬顿获得快迪斯杯的机会极大。 
　　但是他高涨的情绪没能持续多久。在通向宿舍的楼梯顶端，他碰到了看起来慌乱不安的尼维尔。 
　　“哈利——我不知道是谁干的，我刚才发现——” 
　　害怕地看着哈利，尼维尔推开了门。 
　　哈利衣箱里的东西被扔得到处都是。他的斗篷破碎躺在地板上。床上用品都从他的床上垂了下来。床头柜的抽屉也拉开了，所有的东西扔了一地毯。 
　　哈利张大嘴向床边走去，脚踩在《与巨人做伴的旅行》散开的书页上。 
　　当他和尼维尔合力把毯子拽回床上时，罗恩，达恩和谢默斯进来了。达恩大声诅咒着。 
　　“怎么了，哈利？” 
　　“不知道，”哈利说。不过罗恩正在审视哈利的袍子。所有的口袋都翻在外边。 
　　“有人来找什么东西。”罗恩说，“丢了什么没？” 
　　哈利开始拾起所有的东西扔回衣箱，直到他把最后一本罗克哈特的书扔进去时，他才发现是什么不见了。 
　　“瑞德的日记没了。”他低声的对罗恩说。 
　　“什么？” 
　　哈利头朝宿舍的门口偏了偏，罗恩跟着他走了出去。他们匆匆回到已经半空的格林芬顿宿舍，与正独坐着读一本叫《远古演练更易》的书的荷米恩会合。 
　　荷米恩被这个消息吓呆了。 
　　“但是——只有格林芬顿的人有可能偷——别人不知道我们的暗语……” 
　　“完全正确。”哈利说。 
　　他们在第二天早晨醒来，有明亮的阳光和令人心旷神恰的微风。 
　　“练快迪斯球的绝佳天气！”伍德热情洋溢地说。他正站在格林芬顿桌边往每个队员的盘子里分配着炒蛋。“哈利，来点儿，你需要一顿丰盛的早餐。” 
　　哈利一直盯着拥挤的格林芬顿的桌子，不知瑞德的日记的新得主是否落在其中某一位手中。荷米恩催促他宣布这件失窃案，但他并不想这样的，那样，他将不得不告诉老师所有有关那本日记的故事了。有多少人知道50年前哈格力被驱逐的原因呢？他不想成为重提过去的那个人。 
　　他与罗恩和荷米恩一道离开大礼堂去取他快迪斯球用具，在他的脚刚踏上大理石楼梯时，他又听到了那个声音：“这次杀掉……让我撕……撕咬……“他大声叫了出来，把罗恩和荷米思都吓得跳了起来。 
　　“那个声音！”哈利说。他看着他的肩膀，“我刚才又听到了——你们没有吗？” 
　　罗恩摇了摇头挣大了眼睛。荷米恩则用手覆额。 
　　“哈利——我想我刚刚明白了什么！我必须去一趟图书馆！” 
　　然后她冲上楼梯，离开了。 
　　“她明白了什么？”哈利心烦意乱的说。他仍四处张望，试图辩出声音的来源。 
　　“超出我的理解能力了。”罗恩摇摇头说。 
　　“但是她为什么要去图书馆？” 
　　“因为那正是荷米恩的风格。”罗恩耸耸肩膀，“一有疑惑，就去图书馆。” 
　　哈利犹豫不决的站着，希望再次听到那声音。但是人流正从他身后的大礼堂涌出来，大声喧哗着，从前门退场，往快迪斯场涌去。 
　　“你最好快些行动，”罗恩说，“快11点了——比赛就要开始了。” 
　　哈利冲到格林芬顿塔，取了他的灵光2000，冲进一窝蜂的涌过场地的人群中。 
　　但他的心仍留在城堡中，担心着那个无躯体的声音。当他在更衣室套上球服时，唯一令他安慰的是，每个人现在都在外面等着看比赛。 
　　队员们走上场，受到热烈的欢迎。奥立弗。伍德绕着球柱来了一个热身飞行。 
　　胡施夫人把球发了，穿着浅黄色的球服的队员们正聚在一起，利用最后一分钟讨论战术。 
　　哈利往他的扫帚上跨的时候看到麦康娜教授带着一只巨大的紫色麦克风越过场地半走半跑过来。 
　　哈利的心像石头一样沉了下去。 
　　“比赛取消。”麦康娜教授通过麦克风对着拥挤的体育场喊。四周传来倒喝采声。奥立弗。伍德看起来非常震惊，他马上降落，朝麦康娜教授跑去。 
　　“但是教授！”他叫着，“我们必须比赛……奖杯……格林芬顿——” 
　　麦康娜教授教授没注意他，继续通过麦克风叫着：“所有的学生都回宿舍休息，在那儿，各院长将会给他们进一步的通知。大家马上回去！” 
　　然后他放下麦克风，招手要哈利靠近她。 
　　“波特，我想你最好和我一道去……” 
　　哈利正想着麦康娜教授怎么能在这个时刻怀疑到他，就看到罗恩离开了正在抱怨的人群，朝他们跑了过来。令哈利奇怪的是，麦康娜教授并没有反对。 
　　“嗯，或许你最好也一起来，罗恩。” 
　　他们周围的一些学生在抱怨着比赛被取消，另一些则看起来很忧虑。哈利和罗恩跟随麦康娜教授回到学校走上大理石楼梯。但这回，他们不会被带往任何人的办公室。 
　　“这会是一个巨大的震惊。”当他们正在接近医院侧楼时，麦康娜教授用一种令人吃惊的温柔语气说，“又发生了一起攻击……另一起双重攻击。” 
　　哈利的肠胃恐惧的抽搐了一下。麦康娜教授推开门，他和罗恩走了过去。 
　　波姆弗雷夫人正俯在一个长着长卷发的五年级女孩上面，哈利认出她是那个他们碰巧问过到史林德林宿舍怎么走的罗尼文克劳人。她旁边躺的是——“荷米恩！” 
　　罗恩呻吟着。 
　　荷米恩静静的躺着。她的眼睛睁着，毫无生气。 
　　“她们是在图书馆附近被发现的。”麦康娜教授说。“你们中的哪一个能解释这个吗？它在她们旁边的地板上……” 
　　她手里拿着一小面圆镜。 
　　哈利和罗思摇摇头都望向荷米恩。 
　　“我会送你们回格林芬顿。”麦康娜教授沉重地说，“无论怎样，我需要向学生讲话。” 
　　“所有的学生必须在晚上六点之前回他们的宿舍，六点之后不得离开宿舍。将有一位老师陪你们去上课。没有老师陪伴，不得使用浴室厕所。快迪斯球的训练和比赛延迟进行。取消所有晚间活动。” 
　　格林芬顿学院的人挤在房间里静静地听着麦康娜教授讲话。她卷起刚才读过的文稿，用有些哽咽的声音说，“勿庸置疑，我从没有象现在悲痛过。如果这几次攻击背后的罪犯抓不出来，这所学校极有可能被关闭。请任何掌握这件事线索的同学勇敢的站出来。” 
　　她笨拙地钻出了胖大婶肖像小门。格林芬顿人立刻开始说话。 
　　“一个格林芬顿鬼，已经有两个格林芬顿倒下了。一个罗尼文克劳和一个海夫已夫。”威斯里双胞胎的朋友乔丹扳着手指头说。 
　　“难道没有老师注意到所有的史林德林都很安全吗？”“难道所有的攻击都来自史林德林还不明显吗？史林德林的继承人，史林德林的怪兽——为什么不把所有的史林德林都给开除？”他咆哮着，不时有人点头，鼓掌表示赞同。 
　　伯希。威斯里坐在李。乔丹后面的一张椅子上，但是，仅此一次，他似乎并不急于发表他的见解，他看起来苍白而且呆呆的。 
　　“伯希处于休克状态。”乔治悄悄的告诉哈利：“那个罗尼文克劳女孩——皮妮洛。克立卫伦——她是一个三好徽章获得者，我想，他是认为怪兽不敢攻击一个三好章获得者。 
　　但是哈利并没有认真听。他似乎不能忘掉那幅画面，荷米恩躺在医院的病床上，好像是雕像一样。如果凶手不能立刻被抓住，他将一生都得和达德里呆在一起。瑞德供出了哈格力，是因为如果学校关闭，他将面临回到马格人孤儿院的命运。现在，哈利完全知道了他当时的感觉。 
　　“我们该怎么办？”罗恩悄悄地对着哈利的耳朵说。“你认为他们会不会疑心哈格力。”我不信这次是他，但如果上回是他最后放出怪兽，他一定知道如何进入神秘秘室。那将是我们查找真相的第一步。”“但是麦康娜教授说除非上课，我们必须呆在塔里——” 
　　“我想，”哈利更加平静地说，“是再次使用我爸爸的隐身衣的时候了。” 
　　哈利只从他父亲处继承来了一件东西：一件长的银色的隐身斗篷。它是能让他们不被任何人发现而溜出学校去见哈格力的唯一的机会。他们像往常一样上床，等到尼维尔，达恩和谢默斯最终停止关于秘室之谜的讨论并睡着后，才起身穿上衣服，并用斗篷遮住他们自己。 
　　通过黑暗的僻静的城堡走廊并不是一件称得上愉快的事。即使是以前多次在夜里徘徊在城堡里的哈利也从没见过在太阳落山后，它拥挤的样子，老师，三好徽章获得者，幽灵走在通道上。巡视四周，警惕着任何一点不寻常的动静。他们的隐身斗篷并不能让他们不发出声响。有一个特别紧张的时刻，罗恩离正在站岗的史纳皮仅有一码远的地方踩到了钉子。谢天谢他的是，几乎就在罗恩咒骂的时候，史纳皮打了一个喷嚏。直到抵达橡木门前并把它推开时，他们才松了一口气。 
　　这是一个晴朗的布满星星的夜晚。他们匆匆朝哈格力的房子的亮着灯的窗户走去，直到到了他的前门，才把斗篷拽了下来。 
　　他们敲门几秒钟后，哈格力猛的拉开了门。他们俩面对面站着，哈格力拿着弓箭瞄准他们，公猎犬弗兰在他们身后大声吠着。 
　　“噢。”他放下弓箭，直视他们，“你们俩在这儿干嘛？” 
　　“那是做什么的？”他们走进屋子时哈利指着弓箭问。 
　　“没什么……没什么。”哈格力咕哝着，“我以为……没关系……请坐吧…… 
　　人来者茶……” 
　　他几乎不知道他在做什么。他把水壶里的水洒到了火里，差点扑灭了火，又在他大手的神经质的一颤中捏碎了茶壶。 
　　“你还好吗，哈格力？”哈利说，“你听说荷米恩的事了吗？” 
　　“噢，我听说了。”哈格力说，他的声音里有细微的不连贯。 
　　他不时紧张的朝窗外望。他给他们俩每人都倒了一大杯沸水（他忘了加茶包），当他正在往盘子上放一块水果蛋糕时，门上传来了一声响亮的敲门声。 
　　哈格力扔掉水果蛋糕。哈利和罗恩交换了惊慌的眼神，迅速套上隐身斗篷退至角落。哈格力让他们藏好，抓起他的弓箭，又一次猛的拉开门。 
　　“晚上好，哈格力。” 
　　是丹伯多他走进来，看起来极端严肃。他后面紧跟着另一个相貌古怪的人。 
　　这个陌生人是一个头发篷乱，表情焦虑的低矮有些发福的人，他穿着搭配得非常奇怪的衣服：细条纹的西装，鲜红的领带，黑色斗篷和紫色的尖鞋子，他胳膊下夹着一项淡黄绿色的礼帽。 
　　“那是爸爸的上司！”罗恩倒抽了一口气。“科恩。里尔斯，魔法委员长。” 
　　哈利用肘部狠狠地撞了罗恩一下，让他闭嘴。 
　　哈格力变得脸色苍白起来，汗水涔涔。他跌坐在一把椅子里，目光从丹伯多转向科恩。尔里斯。 
　　“糟糕的事情，哈格力，”里尔斯用一种急促、清晰而不带感情的声音说道，“太糟糕了，我必须来四次。对非巫师血统的攻击，事情做得太火。委员会必须要采取行动了。” 
　　“我从没有，”哈格力以哀求的眼神看着丹伯多，“你知道我从没有做过，丹伯多教授，这位……” 
　　“我希望你明白，里尔斯，我对哈格力完全信任。”丹伯多对里尔斯皱着眉头。 
　　“艾伯斯，你看。”里尔斯有点不舒服，“哈格力的记录对他不利。委员会必须做点什么——教授的领导者已与我们取得联系。” 
　　“但是，科恩。尔里斯，我告诉你，把哈格力带走并不会有任何帮助。”丹伯多的蓝眼睛里燃烧着哈利以前从未见过的火焰。 
　　“以我的看法。”里尔斯烦躁不安的把玩着礼帽。“我的压力很大。我必须做点什么，如果证实不是哈格力，他会被放回来，没什么可说。但是我必须带走他。 
　　必须。难道履行我的职责——” 
　　“带走我？”哈格力颤抖了，“带我到哪儿？” 
　　“仅仅是伸展一下手脚。”里尔斯不去望哈格力的眼睛，“这不是惩罚，哈格力，只是预防，如果我们抓到另外的人，我们会向你道歉并放你出去……” 
　　“不是阿兹卡班？”哈格力用低沉、嘶哑的声音说。 
　　另一阵敲门声敲在了里尔斯的回答之前。 
　　丹伯多去应了门。这回是哈利的肋骨被肘部顶了一下：他发出了喘气声。 
　　露布斯。马尔夫？！他大步跨进了哈格力的小屋。他把自己包裹在一件黑色的长旅行斗篷里，脸上挂着冰冷而满意的笑容。弗兰开始低吼。 
　　“已经在这儿了，科恩。尔里斯，”他赞同地说，“很好，很好。” 
　　“你在这儿干什么？”哈格力愤怒地说。“滚出我的房子。” 
　　“我亲爱的，请相信我，我根本毫无兴趣待在你的——嗯——你称这为房子吗？” 
　　露布斯。马尔夫冷笑着环视这间小秘室。“我只是往学校打了电话，然后被告知校长在这儿。” 
　　“你到底想要做什么，露布斯。马尔夫？”丹伯多说，他说得很客气，但是那丛火焰仍旧在他蓝眼睛里燃烧。 
　　“很可怕的事情，丹伯多，”马尔夫先生懒懒地说，他取出一卷长长的羊皮稿。 
　　“但是领导们认为是让你站到一边去的时候了。”这是停职令——你可以在上面找到全部12个签名。我们觉得你正在失去以前的能力。到现在共有几起攻击事件了？ 
　　今天下午又有两起，不是吗？以这样的速度下去，霍格瓦彻就没非巫师血统的了。 
　　我们都知道这对这个学校来说是怎样可怕的损失。”“哦，现在，看这儿，露布斯。马尔夫，“科恩。里尔斯看起来有些恐慌，”丹伯多怀疑……不，不是，我们刚才是想……” 
　　“校长的任命或停职会都是领导者的事情，科恩。里尔斯，”露布斯。马尔夫先生平静地说，“既然丹伯多没能制止这些攻击……” 
　　“现在，露布斯。马尔夫，如果丹伯多不能制止它们——”科恩。里尔斯说。 
　　他的上唇开始发歼，“我是说，谁能？” 
　　“这有待观望。”马尔夫带着恶意的微笑说。“但是既然我们几个都投票赞成……” 
　　哈格力突然一跃而起，他蓬乱的黑发撞到了天花板。 
　　“那么在他们同意之前，你又敲诈勒索了多少？”他咆哮着。 
　　“亲爱的，亲爱的，你知道，你的坏脾气会在这些天里给你带来麻烦，哈格力。” 
　　马尔夫说，“我建议你不要像刚才那样对阿兹克班的卫兵叫嚷，他们不会喜欢你的。” 
　　“你不能带走丹伯多！”哈格力嚷着。把公猎犬弗兰都吓得退缩到篮子里低声呜咽。“带走他的话，非巫师血统将没有一丝机会！ 
　　紧接着的就是大屠杀！”“冷静下来，哈格力，“丹伯多斥责道。他看着露布斯。马尔夫。 
　　“如果上级想免我的职，我自然会接受的。” 
　　“但是——”科恩。里尔斯结结巴巴地说。 
　　“不，”哈格力低吼。 
　　丹伯多没有把他明亮的蓝眼睛从露市斯。马尔夫的冰冷的灰眼睛上挪开。 
　　“不过，”丹伯多说得很慢很清晰，以便每一个人都不会漏掉一个字，“你会发现，只有当这里没有人忠诚于我了，我才是真正离开这所学校。你还会发现，在霍格瓦彻，谁要是有需要就能得到帮助。” 
　　有那么一秒，哈利几乎肯定丹伯多的眼睛朝他们藏身的角落眨了眨。 
　　“令人崇敬的观点。”马尔夫鞠了个躬，“我们都会怀念你的——嗯——管理事物的高度个人化的方式，丹伯多。我们只希望你的继任者能够想办法防止——啊——‘谋杀’。” 
　　他大步走向木门，打开它，鞠躬请出丹伯多，科恩。里尔斯胡乱摆弄着礼帽，等着哈格力走到他前面。但是哈格力牢牢站定，深吸一口气，然后认真地说，“如果谁想找到什么材料，他们只需顺着蜘蛛即可。那将把他们带到正确的方向。这就是我要说的。” 
　　科恩。里尔斯惊奇地瞪着他。 
　　“好了，我去了。”哈格力穿上他的厚毛头斜纹棉布上衣。但当他将要跟着科恩。尔里斯走出门时他又停住了，然后大声说，“我不在时要有人喂弗兰。” 
　　门砰的关上了。罗恩拽下隐身斗篷。 
　　“我们现在陷入麻烦了。”他悲声说：“没有了丹伯多，他们可能一样会在今晚关闭学校，他走后攻击将变为一天一次了。” 
　　弗兰开始嚎叫，用爪子去抓关闭的门。 
Chapter 15 Aragog
Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to Harry; no better, in fact, than the inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong.
Harry and Ron had tried to visit Hermione, but visitors were now barred from the hospital wing.
“We're taking no more chances,” Madam Pomfrey told them severely through a crack in the infirmary door. “No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off…”
With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.
Harry constantly repeated Dumbledore's final words to himself “I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me… Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” But what good were these words? Who exactly were they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as they were?
Hagrid's hint about the spiders was far easier to understand. The trouble was, there didn't seem to be a single spider left in the castle to follow. Harry looked everywhere he went, helped (rather reluctantly) by Ron. They were hampered, of course, by the fact that they weren't allowed to wander off on their own but had to move around the castle in a pack with the other Gryffindors. Most of their fellow students seemed glad that they were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but Harry found it very irksome.
One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. Harry didn't realize what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left, when, sitting right behind Malfoy, Harry overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle.
“I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore,” he said, not troubling to keep his voice down. “I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won't want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won't last long, she's only filling in…”
Snape swept past Harry, making no comment about Hermione's empty seat and cauldron.
“Sir,” said Malfoy loudly. “Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?”
“Now, now, Malfoy,” said Snape, though he couldn't suppress a thin-lipped smile. “Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough.”
“Yeah, right,” said Malfoy, smirking. “I expect you'd have Father's vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job - I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir—”
Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.
“I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now,” Malfoy went on. “Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger—”
The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Malfoy's last words, Ron had leapt off his stool, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, his attempts to reach Malfoy went unnoticed.
“Let me at him,” Ron growled as Harry and Dean hung onto his arms. “I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands—”
“Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology,” barked Snape over the class's heads, and off they marched, with Harry, Ron, and Dean bringing up the rear, Ron still trying to get loose. It was only safe to let go of him when Snape had seen them out of the castle and they were making their way across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses.
The Herbology class was very subdued; there were now two missing from their number, Justin and Hermione.
Professor Sprout set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Harry went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found himself face-to-face with Ernie Macmillan. Ernie took a deep breath and said, very formally, “I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and, well—”
He held out a pudgy hand, and Harry shook it.
Ernie and his friend Hannah came to work at the same Shrivelfig as Harry and Ron.
“That Draco Malfoy character,” said Ernie, breaking off dead twigs, “he seems very pleased about all this, doesn't he? D'you know, I think he might be Slytherin's heir.”
“That's clever of you,” said Ron, who didn't seem to have forgiven Ernie as readily as Harry.
“Do you think it's Malfoy, Harry?” Ernie asked.
“No,” said Harry, so firmly that Ernie and Hannah stared.
A second later, Harry spotted something.
Several large spiders were scuttling over the ground on the other side of the glass, moving in an unnaturally straight line as though taking the shortest route to a prearranged meeting. Harry hit Ron over the hand with his pruning shears.
“Ouch! What're you—”
Harry pointed out the spiders, following their progress with his eyes screwed up against the sun.
“Oh, yeah,” said Ron, trying, and failing, to look pleased. “But we can't follow them now—”
Ernie and Hannah were listening curiously.
Harry's eyes narrowed as he focused on the spiders. If they pursued their fixed course, there could be no doubt about where they would end up.
“Looks like they're heading for the Forbidden Forest…”
And Ron looked even unhappier about that.
At the end of the lesson Professor Sprout escorted the class to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry and Ron lagged behind the others so they could talk out of earshot.
“We'll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again,” Harry told Ron. “We can take Fang with us. He's used to going into the forest with Hagrid, he might be some help.”
“Right,” said Ron, who was twirling his wand nervously in his fingers. “Er - aren't there - aren't there supposed to be werewolves in the forest?” he added as they took their usual places at the back of Lockhart's classroom.
Preferring not to answer that question, Harry said, “There are good things in there, too. The centaurs are all right, and the unicorns…”
Ron had never been into the Forbidden Forest before. Harry had entered it only once and had hoped never to do so again.
Lockhart bounded into the room and the class stared at him. Every other teacher in the place was looking grimmer than usual, but Lockhart appeared nothing short of buoyant.
“Come now,” he cried, beaming around him. “Why all these long faces?”
People swapped exasperated looks, but nobody answered.
“Don't you people realize,” said Lockhart, speaking slowly, as though they were all a bit dim, “the danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away—”
“Says who?” said Dean Thomas loudly.
“My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn't have taken Hagrid if he hadn't been one hundred percent sure that he was guilty,” said Lockhart, in the tone of someone explaining that one and one made two.
“Oh, yes he would,” said Ron, even more loudly than Dean.
“I flatter myself I know a touch more about Hagrid's arrest than you do, Mr. Weasley,” said Lockhart in a self-satisfied tone.
Ron started to say that he didn't think so, somehow, but stopped in midsentence when Harry kicked him hard under the desk.
“We weren't there, remember?” Harry muttered.
But Lockhart's disgusting cheeriness, his hints that he had always thought Hagrid was no good, his confidence that the whole business was now at an end, irritated Harry so much that he yearned to throw Gadding with Ghouls right in Lockhart's stupid face. Instead he contented himself with scrawling a note to Ron: Let's do it tonight.
Ron read the message, swallowed hard, and looked sideways at the empty seat usually filled by Hermione. The sight seemed to stiffen his resolve, and he nodded.
The Gryffindor common room was always very crowded these days, because from six o'clock onward the Gryffindors had nowhere else to go. They also had plenty to talk about, with the result that the common room often didn't empty until past midnight.
Harry went to get the Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk right after dinner, and spent the evening sitting on it, waiting for the room to clear. Fred and George challenged Harry and Ron to a few games of Exploding Snap, and Ginny sat watching them, very subdued in Hermione's usual chair. Harry and Ron kept losing on purpose, trying to finish the games quickly, but even so, it was well past midnight when Fred, George, and Ginny finally went to bed.
Harry and Ron waited for the distant sounds of two dormitory doors closing before seizing the cloak, throwing it over themselves, and climbing through the portrait hole.
It was another difficult journey through the castle, dodging all the teachers. At last they reached the entrance hall, slid back the lock on the oak front doors, squeezed between them, trying to stop any creaking, and stepped out into the moonlit grounds.
“Course,” said Ron abruptly as they strode across the black grass, “we might get to the forest and find there's nothing to follow. Those spiders might not've been going there at all. I know it looked like they were moving in that sort of general direction, but…”
His voice trailed away hopefully.
They reached Hagrid's house, sad and sorry-looking with its blank windows. When Harry pushed the door open, Fang went mad with joy at the sight of them. Worried he might wake everyone at the castle with his deep, booming barks, they hastily fed him treacle fudge from a tin on the mantelpiece, which glued his teeth together.
Harry left the Invisibility Cloak on Hagrid's table. There would be no need for it in the pitch-dark forest.
“C'mon, Fang, we're going for a walk,” said Harry, patting his leg, and Fang bounded happily out of the house behind them, dashed to the edge of the forest, and lifted his leg against a large sycamore tree.
Harry took out his wand, murmured, “Lumos!” and a tiny light appeared at the end of it, just enough to let them watch the path for signs of spiders.
“Good thinking,” said Ron. “I'd light mine, too, but you know - it'd probably blow up or something…”
Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder, pointing at the grass. Two solitary spiders were hurrying away from the wandlight into the shade of the trees.
“Okay,” Ron sighed as though resigned to the worst, “I'm ready. Let's go.”
So, with Fang scampering around them, sniffing tree roots and leaves, they entered the forest. By the glow of Harry's wand, they followed the steady trickle of spiders moving along the path. They walked behind them for about twenty minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Then, when the trees had become thicker than ever, so that the stars overhead were no longer visible, and Harry's wand shone alone in the sea of dark, they saw their spider guides leaving the path.
Harry paused, trying to see where the spiders were going, but everything outside his little sphere of light was pitch-black. He had never been this deep into the forest before. He could vividly remember Hagrid advising him not to leave the forest path last time he'd been in here. But Hagrid was miles away now, probably sitting in a cell in Azkaban, and he had also said to follow the spiders.
Something wet touched Harry's hand and he jumped backward, crushing Ron's foot, but it was only Fang's nose.
“What d'you reckon?” Harry said to Ron, whose eyes he could just make out, reflecting the light from his wand.
“We've come this far,” said Ron.
So they followed the darting shadows of the spiders into the trees. They couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in their way, barely visible in the near blackness. Harry could feel Fang's hot breath on his hand. More than once, they had to stop, so that Harry could crouch down and find the spiders in the wandlight.
They walked for what seemed like at least half an hour, their robes snagging on low-slung branches and brambles. After a while, they noticed that the ground seemed to be sloping downward, though the trees were as thick as ever.
Then Fang suddenly let loose a great, echoing bark, making both Harry and Ron jump out of their skins.
“What?” said Ron loudly, looking around into the pitch-dark, and gripping Harry's elbow very hard.
“There's something moving over there,” Harry breathed. “Listen… sounds like something big…”
They listened. Some distance to their right, the something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees.
“Oh, no,” said Ron. “Oh, no, oh, no, oh—”
“Shut up,” said Harry frantically. “It'll hear you.”
“Hear me?” said Ron in an unnaturally high voice. “It's already heard Fang!”
The darkness seemed to be pressing on their eyeballs as they stood, terrified, waiting. There was a strange rumbling noise and then silence.
“What d'you think it's doing?” said Harry.
“Probably getting ready to pounce,” said Ron.
They waited, shivering, hardly daring to move.
“D'you think it's gone?” Harry whispered.
“Dunno—”
Then, to their right, came a sudden blaze of light, so bright in the darkness that both of them flung up their hands to shield their eyes. Fang yelped and tried to run, but got lodged in a tangle of thorns and yelped even louder.
“Harry!” Ron shouted, his voice breaking with relief “Harry, it's our car!”
“What?”
“Come on!”
Harry blundered after Ron toward the light, stumbling and tripping, and a moment later they had emerged into a clearing.
Mr. Weasley's car was standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlights ablaze. As Ron walked, open-mouthed, toward it, it moved slowly toward him, exactly like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner.
“It's been here all the time!” said Ron delightedly, walking around the car. “Look at it. The forest's turned it wild…”
The sides of the car were scratched and smeared with mud. Apparently it had taken to trundling around the forest on its own. Fang didn't seem at all keen on it; he kept close to Harry, who could feel him quivering. His breathing slowing down again, Harry stuffed his wand back into his robes.
“And we thought it was going to attack us!” said Ron, leaning against the car and patting it. “I wondered where it had gone!”
Harry squinted around on the floodlit ground for signs of more spiders, but they had all scuttled away from the glare of the headlights.
“We've lost the trail,” he said. “C'mon, let's go and find them.”
Ron didn't speak. He didn't move. His eyes were fixed on a point some ten feet above the forest floor, right behind Harry. His face was livid with terror.
Harry didn't even have time to turn around. There was a loud clicking noise and suddenly he felt something long and hairy seize him around the middle and lift him off the ground, so that he was hanging facedown. Struggling, terrified, he heard more clicking, and saw Ron's legs leave the ground, too, heard Fang whimpering and howling - next moment, he was being swept away into the dark trees.
Head hanging, Harry saw that what had hold of him was marching on six immensely long, hairy legs, the front two clutching him tightly below a pair of shining black pincers. Behind him, he could hear another of the creatures, no doubt carrying Ron. They were moving into the very heart of the forest. Harry could hear Fang fighting to free himself from a third monster, whining loudly, but Harry couldn't have yelled even if he had wanted to; he seemed to have left his voice back with the car in the clearing.
He never knew how long he was in the creature's clutches; he only knew that the darkness suddenly lifted enough for him to see that the leaf-strewn ground was now swarming with spiders. Craning his neck sideways, he realized that they had reached the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene he had ever laid eyes on.
Spiders. Not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves below. Spiders the size of carthorses, eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy, gigantic. The massive specimen that was carrying Harry made its way down the steep slope toward a misty, domed web in the very center of the hollow, while its fellows closed in all around it, clicking their pincers excitedly at the sight of its load.
Harry fell to the ground on all fours as the spider released him. Ron and Fang thudded down next to him. Fang wasn't howling anymore, but cowering silently on the spot. Ron looked exactly like Harry felt. His mouth was stretched wide in a kind of silent scream and his eyes were popping.
Harry suddenly realized that the spider that had dropped him was saying something. It had been hard to tell, because he clicked his pincers with every word he spoke.
“Aragog!” it called. “Aragog!”
And from the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly. There was gray in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on his ugly, pincered head was milky white. He was blind.
“What is it?” he said, clicking his pincers rapidly.
“Men,” clicked the spider who had caught Harry.
“Is it Hagrid?” said Aragog, moving closer, his eight milky eyes wandering vaguely.
“Strangers,” clicked the spider who had brought Ron.
“Kill them,” clicked Aragog fretfully. “I was sleeping…”
“We're friends of Hagrid's,” Harry shouted. His heart seemed to have left his chest to pound in his throat.
Click, click, click went the pincers of the spiders all around the hollow.
Aragog paused.
“Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before,” he said slowly.
“Hagrid's in trouble,” said Harry, breathing very fast. “That's why we've come.”
“In trouble?” said the aged spider, and Harry thought he heard concern beneath the clicking pincers. “But why has he sent you?”
Harry thought of getting to his feet but decided against it; he didn't think his legs would support him. So he spoke from the ground, as calmly as he could.
“They think, up at the school, that Hagrid's been setting a - a - something on students. They've taken him to Azkaban.”
Aragog clicked his pincers furiously, and all around the hollow the sound was echoed by the crowd of spiders; it was like applause, except applause didn't usually make Harry feel sick with fear.
“But that was years ago,” said Aragog fretfully. “Years and years ago. I remember it well. That's why they made him leave the school. They believed that I was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free.”
“And you… you didn't come from the Chamber of Secrets?” said Harry, who could feel cold sweat on his forehead.
“I!” said Aragog, clicking angrily. “I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps from the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness…”
Harry summoned what remained of his courage.
“So you never - never attacked anyone?”
“Never,” croaked the old spider. “It would have been my instinct, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet…”
“But then… Do you know what did kill that girl?” said Harry. “Because whatever it is, it's back and attacking people again—”
His words were drowned by a loud outbreak of clicking and the rustling of many long legs shifting angrily; large black shapes shifted all around him.
“The thing that lives in the castle,” said Aragog, “is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school.”
“What is it?” said Harry urgently.
More loud clicking, more rustling; the spiders seemed to be closing in.
“We do not speak of it!” said Aragog fiercely. “We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times.”
Harry didn't want to press the subject, not with the spiders pressing closer on all sides. Aragog seemed to be tired of talking. He was backing slowly into his domed web, but his fellow spiders continued to inch slowly toward Harry and Ron.
“We'll just go, then,” Harry called desperately to Aragog, hearing leaves rustling behind him.
“Go?” said Aragog slowly. “I think not…”
“But - but—”
“My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friend of Hagrid.”
Harry spun around. Feet away, towering above him, was a solid wall of spiders, clicking, their many eyes gleaming in their ugly black heads.
Even as he reached for his wand, Harry knew it was no good, there were too many of them, but as he tried to stand, ready to die fighting, a loud, long note sounded, and a blaze of light flamed through the hollow.
Mr. Weasley's car was thundering down the slope, headlights glaring, its horn screeching, knocking spiders aside; several were thrown onto their backs, their endless legs waving in the air. The car screeched to a halt in front of Harry and Ron and the doors flew open.
“Get Fang!” Harry yelled, diving into the front seat; Ron seized the boarhound around the middle and threw him, yelping, into the back of the car - the doors slammed shut - Ron didn't touch the accelerator but the car didn't need him; the engine roared and they were off, hitting more spiders. They sped up the slope, out of the hollow, and they were soon crashing through the forest, branches whipping the windows as the car wound its way cleverly through the widest gaps, following a path it obviously knew.
Harry looked sideways at Ron. His mouth was still open in the silent scream, but his eyes weren't popping anymore.
“Are you okay?”
Ron stared straight ahead, unable to speak.
They smashed their way through the undergrowth, Fang howling loudly in the back seat, and Harry saw the side mirror snap off as they squeezed past a large oak. After ten noisy, rocky minutes, the trees thinned, and Harry could again see patches of sky.
The car stopped so suddenly that they were nearly thrown into the windshield. They had reached the edge of the forest. Fang flung himself at the window in his anxiety to get out, and when Harry opened the door, he shot off through the trees to Hagrid's house, tail between his legs. Harry got out too, and after a minute or so, Ron seemed to regain the feeling in his limbs and followed, still stiff-necked and staring. Harry gave the car a grateful pat as it reversed back into the forest and disappeared from view.
Harry went back into Hagrid's cabin to get the Invisibility Cloak. Fang was trembling under a blanket in his basket. When Harry got outside again, he found Ron being violent sick in the pumpkin patch.
“Follow the spiders,” said Ron weakly, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive.”
“I bet he thought Aragog wouldn't hurt friends of his,” said Harry.
“That's exactly Hagrid's problem!” said Ron, thumping the wall of the cabin. “He always thinks monsters aren't as bad as they're made out, and look where it's got him! A cell in Azkaban!” He was shivering uncontrollably now. “What was the point of sending us in there? What have we found out, I'd like to know?”
“That Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets,” said Harry, throwing the cloak over Ron and prodding him in the arm to make him walk. “He was innocent.”
Ron gave a loud snort. Evidently, hatching Aragog in a cupboard wasn't his idea of being innocent.
As the castle loomed nearer Harry twitched the cloak to make sure their feet were hidden, then pushed the creaking front doors ajar. They walked carefully back across the entrance hall and up the marble staircase, holding their breath as they passed corridors where watchful sentries were walking. At last they reached the safety of the Gryffindor common room, where the fire had burned itself into glowing ash. They took off the cloak and climbed the winding stair to their dormitory.
Ron fell onto his bed without bothering to get undressed. Harry, however, didn't feel very sleepy. He sat on the edge of his fourposter, thinking hard about everything Aragog had said.
The creature that was lurking somewhere in the castle, he thought, sounded like a sort of monster Voldemort -even other monsters didn't want to name it. But he and Ron were no closer to finding out what it was, or how it petrified its victims. Even Hagrid had never known what was in the Chamber of Secrets.
Harry swung his legs up onto his bed and leaned back against his pillows, watching the moon glinting at him through the tower window.
He couldn't see what else they could do. They had hit dead ends everywhere. Riddle had caught the wrong person, the Heir of Slytherin had got off, and no one could tell whether it was the same person, or a different one, who had opened the Chamber this time. There was nobody else to ask. Harry lay down, still thinking about what Aragog had said.
He was becoming drowsy when what seemed like their very last hope occurred to him, and he suddenly sat bolt upright.
“Ron,” he hissed through the dark, “Ron—”
Ron woke with a yelp like Fang's, stared wildly around, and saw Harry.
“Ron - that girl who died. Aragog said she was found in a bathroom,” said Harry, ignoring Neville's snuffling snores from the corner. “What if she never left the bathroom? What if she's still there?”
Ron rubbed his eyes, frowning through the moonlight. And then he understood, too.
“You don't think - not Moaning Myrtle?”夏天正慢慢地爬上城堡周围的土地，天和湖都变为更长春花的蓝色，花儿也在暖房里绽开了洋白菜大小的花朵。但是如果从城堡的窗户看不到哈格力带着紧跟着他的弗兰大步走过，即便是这样的美景也不合哈利的口昧。事实上，这并不比城堡内好，虽然这里的一切都错得离谱。 
　　哈利和罗恩试过去探望荷米恩，但是现在探访者都被与医院侧楼隔开了。 
　　“我们不做任何冒险，”波姆弗雷夫人透过医院大门的一条门缝严厉的告诉他们。“不，我很抱歉，凶手回来把所有人都解决掉的可能性很大……” 
　　丹伯多走了以后，恐惧前所未有地蔓延着，以致于温暖着城堡墙壁的阳光停滞在窗户外面。校园里很难见到一张既不忧虑也不紧张的脸。回荡在走廊里的笑声也是那么尖锐和作做，而且很快就消失掉了。 
　　哈利经常地对自己重复丹伯多的最后几句话，“只有当这里没有人忠诚于我了，我才算真正离开这所学校……” 
　　“在霍格瓦彻，谁需要，谁就能得到帮助。”但是这些话有什么用呢？他们究竟应该求助于谁呢，在这样一个每个人都困惑和恐惧的时刻？ 
　　哈格力关于蜘蛛的暗示理解起来简单多了——问题是，留在城堡里可以追踪的，似乎不仅仅是一只蜘蛛。在罗恩的协助下（相当勉强），哈利对所到之处处留意。 
　　当然，由于他们不能独自在城堡里游逛而必须和其余的格林芬顿集体行动，他们的活动受到了束缚，多数学生似乎都很喜欢被老师带领着从一间教室到另一间教室，但哈利却觉得很不痛快。 
　　然而，有一个人似乎从这种恐怖和猜疑的气氛中获得了极大的乐趣。杰高。马尔夫趾高气扬地走在学校里，就好像刚刚被指派为首领一样，哈利一直没能明白他在高兴什么。直到丹伯多走了两周后的一节药剂课上，当哈利坐在马尔夫正后方时，无意中听到了马尔夫对着克来伯和乔治吹嘘。 
　　“我一直认为老爸就是那个除掉丹伯多的人。”他一点都不想放低声音。“我告诉过你，他认为丹伯多是这所学校有始以来最差的校长。或许现在我们会有一个体已的校长了。一个不想秘室之谜关闭的人。麦康娜教授待不了多久，她仅仅是替代……” 
　　史纳皮飞快地走过哈利身边，对荷米恩空着的座位和大锅不做评论。 
　　“先生，”马尔夫大声说，“先生，你为什么不申请校长的工作？” 
　　“现在，现在，马尔夫，”虽然抑制不住唇边绽开的一抹微笑，他还是说，“丹伯多教授只是被上级停职。我敢说很快他就会回来与我们在一起的。” 
　　“嗯，是吧。”马尔夫傻笑着，“我预计老爸会投你一票，先生，如果你想申请这份工作的话。我会告诉爸爸，你是这里最棒的老师的，先生……” 
　　史纳皮傻笑着扫过地牢，很幸运地没有发现正假装朝锅里呕吐的谢默斯。 
　　“我非常奇怪此刻具有马格血统的人还没有收起他们的书包。” 
　　马尔夫继续说。“跟你赌5个帆船币下一个谁死。可惜不是格兰佐——” 
　　幸运的是，就在这时，铃响了，就在马尔夫说最后几个字时，罗恩从他的凳子上突然跳了起来，在收拾书包和书的一片混乱中，没人注意到他的企图。 
　　“让我揍他。”罗恩低吼。哈利和达恩拉住他的胳膊，“我不在乎。 
　　我不用魔杖，我要空手杀死他——”“快点，我得把你们送到草药库。“史纳皮在所有同学的头上方吼着。然后他们排成鳄鱼队形出发，哈利、罗恩和达恩排在最后，罗恩还在试图挣脱哈利和达恩。 
　　只有让史纳皮看到他们出了城堡，才能放开罗恩。他们越过莱地朝温室走去。 
　　草药库班上大家的情绪很消沉；他们少了两个人，贾斯丁和荷米思。 
　　史鲍特教授让他们都去修剪枯无花果树，当哈利爬到一堆肥料上去倒那些有害的枯萎花枝时，他正好跟尔尼打了照面儿，尔尼深吸了一口气，非常正式的说，“我只是想说，哈利，我很抱歉我怀疑你。 
　　我知道你不会攻击荷米恩，我为我所说的话表示抱歉。我们现在是在同一条船上了，并且合好吧——“他伸出一只胖乎乎的手，哈利握了握它。 
　　尔尼和他的朋友荷南伯来和哈利，罗恩一起修剪同一棵枯无花果树。 
　　“你认为会是马尔夫吗，哈利？”尔尼问。 
　　“不，”哈利回答的那样肯定，以至于尔尼和荷南伯呆了一下。 
　　过了一会儿，哈利看到了什么，就用他剪枝的剪子打在罗恩的手上。 
　　“哦！你在做……” 
　　哈利正指着几英寸远的那个地方。几只大蜘蛛正迅速穿过。 
　　“噢，是啊。”罗恩看起来高兴一点。“但是我们现在不能追踪它们……” 
　　尔尼和荷南伯好奇地听着。 
　　哈利注视着蜘蛛跑远。 
　　“看起来，它们是往森林……” 
　　罗恩对这一点更不高兴了。 
　　课程结束时，史鲍特教授送他们去上黑巫术防卫课，哈利和罗恩远远落在其他人后面，这样才可在其他人听力范围外谈话。 
　　“我们不得不再用隐身斗篷了。”哈利告诉罗恩，我们可以带着弗兰，它以前总和哈格力一起到森林，对我们会有所帮助。”“对。“罗恩说。他正在不安在指间转着他的魔杖。 
　　“嗯——哪儿——森林里不是据说有人狼吗？”当他们在罗克哈特教室里落坐到他们的位置时，他又加了一句。 
　　哈利宁愿不回答这个问题，他说，“那儿也有很多好东西，半人半马怪很好，独角兽也是。” 
　　罗恩以前从未进禁林，哈利只进过一次，但本希望永远不要再进了。 
　　罗克哈特蹦跳着进了教室，全班同学都盯着他。这儿的其他老师都比平静严肃，但是罗克哈特一点也不缺乐观精神。 
　　“现在开始吧，”他喊到，朝四周微笑着，“为什么都拉长着脸？” 
　　人们彼此交换着恼怒的眼神，但没人作声。 
　　“你们难道没有意识到，”罗克哈特说得很慢，好像他们都有点笨似的，“危险过去了！凶手已被带走了。” 
　　“谁？”达恩。托马斯大声说。 
　　“我亲爱的小伙子，魔法部长如果不是百分之百确定哈格力有罪，他就不会带走哈格力的。”罗克哈特用一种好像对人解释一加一等于二的声调说。 
　　“哦，是的，他会。”罗恩用比达恩大得多的声音说。 
　　“我认为就哈格力被捕一事我比你知道的会多一点，威斯里先生。”罗克哈特洋洋得意地说。 
　　罗恩想说他并不这样认为，但当哈利在桌下狠狠的踢了他一脚后，他把话吞回去了。 
　　“我们不在那儿，记得吗？”哈利低声说。 
　　但是罗克哈特令人厌恶的热情，他一贯认为哈格力不好的观点，他对整件事结束了的信心，大大惹恼了哈利，甚至使他巴不得把《与尸食鬼漫步同游》砸在他那张愚蠢的脸上。结果他只是草草地写了张条给罗恩，来安慰自己：“今天晚上干吧。” 
　　罗恩读了条子，吞了一下口水，朝旁边本该坐着荷术恩的空座位看了一眼，这一眼坚定了他的决心。他点了点头。 
　　格林芬顿的宿舍大厅最近总是人满为患。因为从六点开始。格林芬顿的人就无处可去了。他们总是有充足的谈论话题。结果是不过午夜，宿舍大厅从未空过。 
　　刚吃过晚饭，哈利就去把隐身斗篷从他的衣箱里拿了出来，然后整晚都坐在上面，等着宿舍大厅空下来。弗来德和乔治挑战哈利和罗恩玩了几局扮史纳皮，金妮则有些消沉的坐在荷米恩常坐的椅子里观战。哈利和罗恩有意地输个不停，希望可以尽快结束游戏，但即使是这样，弗来德，乔治和金妮最终上床睡觉时，也已经过了午夜了。 
　　哈利和罗恩一听到两个宿舍的关门声，就一把抓起斗篷，遮住他们自己，从胖大婶肖像小洞处爬了出去。 
　　穿过城堡的行程像以前一样，他们躲开所有的老师，最后，他们到了入场大厅，悄悄移开橡木门的锁，从门缝间闪了出去，尽量不让门发生一点声音，然后踏上了月光照耀的大地。 
　　“路线，”当他们大步跨过黑色的草地时，罗恩突然地说，“我们或许到了禁林后可能会发现根本无迹可寻，那些蜘蛛可能压根儿不是往那儿走，虽然他们看起来似乎是往那一个大方向走，但是……” 
　　他的声音突然弱了下来。 
　　他们到了哈格力的房子，望着黑洞洞的窗户，又沮丧又难过，哈利推开门，弗兰一看到他们就高兴得发狂了。害怕它低沉的叫声吵醒城堡中的每一个人，他们匆忙地从壁炉台上的一个铁罐里拿了些蜂蜜糖喂它吃。它们把它的上下牙都给粘到了一起。 
　　哈利把隐身斗篷留在了哈格力的桌子上。在黑暗无光的森林里，它派不上用场。 
　　“来，弗兰，我们出去散步。”哈利说着轻轻拍了拍它的腿，弗兰就跟在他们后面快乐的穿出房子，冲到森林边，朝一棵美国梧桐抬起了脸。 
　　哈利拿出他的魔杖，念到，“声姆斯！”魔杖尾端出现了一个极小的灯，正好为他们照亮找蜘蛛的通道。 
　　“好主意。”罗恩说，“我也有光，但是你知道——它很可能会引起爆炸或什么的……” 
　　哈利拍拍罗恩的肩膀，指向草地。两只孤零零的蜘蛛已匆忙避开魔杖光芒，隐入树影。 
　　“好吧。”罗恩叹了一口气，似乎准备承受最糟的事，“我准备好了，走吧。” 
　　就这样，带着围着他们蹦跳不停的弗兰，他们进入了森林。借着哈利的魔杖的暗淡的光，他们紧跟在沿着小径缓缓挪动的蜘蛛后面。 
　　他们屏声静气地走了大约20分钟，竖着耳朵仔细听着断裂的树枝和????的树叶声之外的声响。然后树越来越密，头上的星星看不见了，只剩哈利魔杖的微光孤独的亮在黑暗的海洋中，这时，他们看到他们的蜘蛛向导离开了小径。 
　　哈利停了一下，想要看出蜘蛛要往哪里去，但是在他那一点亮光之外只是漆黑一片。他以前从未进入森林这么深过。他还清晰的记和是上次他来这儿时，哈格力叮嘱过他千万不能离开小径。但是哈格力现在不在这里，大概正坐在阿兹卡班的一间牢房里，而且他还说过要跟着那些蜘蛛。 
　　有个潮湿的东西碰到了哈利的手，把他吓得往后倒退了一步，踩到了罗恩脚上。 
　　但是那只是弗兰的鼻子。 
　　“你认为怎么样？”哈利对罗恩说，他只能勉强辨识出罗恩的眼睛，它们正反射着从他的魔杖发出的光。 
　　“我们都走这么远了。”罗恩说。 
　　这样他们就跟着逐渐增多的蜘蛛进入了林子。他们现在不能走得很快了，路上不断有很难在黑暗中看清的树根，根桩之类，哈利都可以感觉到弗兰呼出的热气喷在他的手上，他们不止一次的停下来，哈利蹲下来，用魔杖的亮光寻找蜘蛛。 
　　走了至少半个小时，他们的长袍被低垂的枝枝和荆棘划得一道一道的，过了一会儿，他们注意到地面似乎开始向下倾斜，尽管树木仍很稠密。 
　　突然，弗兰发生了一声大而回响不断的叫声，把哈利和罗思都吓了一跳。 
　　“怎么了？”罗恩大声说。他扫视着无边的黑暗，紧紧抓住哈利的胳膊。 
　　“那边似乎有什么在动。”哈利吸了一口气，“听……听起来似乎是什么庞大的东西。” 
　　他们听着。他们右边的不远处，那东西正折断很多树枝从要树林中踩出一条小径来。 
　　“哦，不。”罗恩叫起来，“哦，不，哦不，哦——” 
　　“闭嘴。”哈利慌乱地说，“它会听到你的声音的。” 
　　“听到我？”罗恩不自然的高声说，“早就听到了。弗兰！” 
　　他们惊恐地站着等着时，黑暗似乎朝他们的眼球压迫过来，有一种隆隆的声音响起，然后是寂静。 
　　“你觉得它在干嘛？”哈利问。 
　　“可能在准备猛扑过来。”罗恩说。 
　　他们等着，浑身颤抖，一步也不敢挪动。 
　　“你看它走了吗？”哈利小声说。 
　　“不知——” 
　　就在这时，他们的右边突然亮起了道光。在黑暗中它是那么明亮，以至于他们俩不得不用手遮挡眼睛，弗兰发出一声惨叫，试图转身逃跑，却因为被卡在刺丛中而叫得更凶了。 
　　“哈利！”罗恩叫声来，声音因解脱而颤抖。“哈利，是我们的飞车！” 
　　“什么？” 
　　“快过来！” 
　　哈利跌跌撞撞地跟着罗恩朝亮光跑去，一会儿他们就跑到了一片空地。 
　　威斯先生的车子是空的，停在一圈浓缩的树中间，上面是屋顶似的稠密的树枝。 
　　车头灯亮着。罗恩张大嘴朝它走近的同时，它也慢慢移向他，就像一只青绿色的大狗欢迎它的主人似的。 
　　“它一直都呆在这儿。”罗恩围着小车转来转去，高兴地说，“看看它。森林把它变野了……” 
　　汽车的双翼粘满泥桨，很明显，它自己游遍了森林，弗兰一点也不喜欢它，他尽量靠近哈利，哈利可以感觉到他在颤抖。哈利的呼吸逐渐平缓下来，他把魔杖塞回了长袍。 
　　“我们竟然认为它会攻击我们。”罗恩斜靠在汽车上，轻拍着它，“我很奇怪，它都去了哪儿！” 
　　哈利眯着眼睛在被照得雪亮的地面上，四处寻找蜘蛛的踪迹，但他们都被车头灯发出的强光吓跑散开了。 
　　“我们失去了线索。”他说，“来吧，我们去找它们。” 
　　罗恩既没吱声也没动，他的眼睛直盯着在哈利背后离森林地面大概十英尺高的一点。他的脸由恐惧转为青灰色。 
　　哈利甚至来不及转身，一声响亮的咋塔声传来，就突然感到一个长长的毛茸茸的东西把他从中间抓住，举离了地面，脸朝下地悬挂着。惊恐挣扎的同时他听到了一声“咋略”声，看到罗恩的双腿也离开了地面，并且听到弗兰呜咽着、哀号着——他也被扣进了漆黑的树林中。倒吊着脑袋，哈利看到抓着他的东西正以六条极长的毛腿向前走。前面两只眼上一对黑亮亮的大钳子紧紧地夹着他，在他背后，他可以听到另一只巨兽，很明显正抓着罗恩。它们正朝森林腹地走去。哈利听到弗兰汪汪地叫着，想挣脱抓他的第三只巨兽。但使哈利想叫也叫不出来，他好像把他的声音留给空地上的汽车了。 
　　他压根儿不知道他被巨兽夹了多久，他只知道黑暗突然消散，他可以看到原本被层层落叶覆盖的地面现在挤满着蜘蛛。伸长脖子朝旁边一看，他才意识到他们到了一个大山谷的边缘。这个山谷的树都被清空了，在明亮的月光下他看到一个极为恶心的场面。 
　　蜘蛛。不是那种下面的树叶上一涌而过的小蜘蛛，而是像拉马车的马那么大的蜘蛛，八只眼，八只腿，黑黑的，毛茸茸的，巨大的，夹着哈利的那只爬下陡峭的斜坡，朝山谷正中心的一张湿呼呼的大网走去。 
　　那黑蜘蛛放开哈利后，他连滚带爬的撞到了地上，罗恩和弗兰也砰的落在他旁边，弗兰不再吼叫，只是无声的退缩了。罗恩看起来和哈利的感觉一模一样。他的嘴发出无声的尖叫。他的眼睛则瞪得大大的。 
　　哈利突然意识到扔下他的那只蜘蛛正在讲些什么。这很难讲，因为他每说一个词都要钳动一下钳子。 
　　“阿拉哥！”它叫道，“阿拉哥！” 
　　从那张湿呼呼的围网中间，一只小象大小的蜘蛛慢慢的出现了。 
　　黑色的身躯腿上掺杂着灰色，丑陋的钳子状的头上的每一只眼都是白色的——他是瞎的。 
　　“这是什么？”他迅速的举着他的钳子说。 
　　“人。”抓哈利的那只说。 
　　“是哈格力吗？”阿拉哥慢慢靠近。他八双乳白色的眼睛游移不定。 
　　“陌生人。”抓罗恩的那只蜘蛛说。 
　　“杀了他们，”阿拉哥烦躁地说，“我在睡觉……” 
　　“我们是哈格力的朋友。”哈利大叫。他的心似乎离开了胸膛，跳到了嗓子眼。 
　　山谷周围的蜘蛛钳子响了起来。 
　　阿拉哥停了一下。 
　　“哈格力从来没有派人来过我们的山谷，”他缓慢地说。 
　　“哈格力惹了麻烦。”哈利呼吸急促起来。“这就是我们来的原因。” 
　　“惹了麻烦？”一只年长的蜘蛛说道。哈利觉得从它钳子嗒嗒的声音中听出了关怀的意味。“但是他为什么派你来？” 
　　哈利考虑站起来，但还是放弃了这念头。他觉得腿无法支撑他，所以他尽可能冷静地坐在地面上说。 
　　“他们认为，哈格力在学校对学生设置了一个——什么东西。他们把他送到了阿兹克班。”阿拉哥愤怒地挥了挥钳子，整个山谷都回荡着蜘蛛群的钳子声。 
　　就像他们在鼓掌喝采，只不过，喝采通常不会让他觉得这么惊恐难受。 
　　“但那是很早以前的事了。”阿拉哥烦躁地说，“很久很久以前，我记得很清楚。那正是他们赶他出校门的原因，他们认为我是那只盘踞在神秘秘室的怪兽，他们以为是哈格力打开了秘室，放了我。” 
　　“那么你……你不是从秘室出来的？”哈利可以感觉到他头上的冷汗。 
　　“我！”阿拉哥愤怒地挥舞夹子。“我，不是在城堡出生的，我来自很远的地方，当我还是一个卵时，一个旅行者把我送给了哈格力，哈格力只是一个男孩，但他照料看我，他把我放在城堡的橱柜里，用餐桌上的碎面包喂我。” 
　　“哈格力是我的好朋友，他是一个好人。当我被发现并被指责杀死了一个女孩儿时，是他保护了我，我从那以后就住在森林里，哈格力仍看望我，他甚至帮我找到了妻子，玛莎，现在你可以看到我的家族如何庞大，这都多亏了哈格力。” 
　　哈利鼓起他残留的勇气。 
　　“那么，你——你从未攻击过任何人？” 
　　“从未。”老蜘蛛嘶哑着声音，“那或许是我的本能，但由于对哈格力的尊敬，我从未伤害过人。那个被杀的女孩的尸体是在浴室发现的，而我除了我长大的柜橱以外，根本就没去过城堡中的其它任何地方，我们喜欢黑暗和安静……” 
　　“但是那么……你知道谁杀了那个女孩吗？”哈利问。“因为无论它究竟是什么东西，它又回来攻击人们了——” 
　　他的话被一阵突然爆发的钳子声和许多长腿急愤的挪动的????声淹没了，大片的黑色在他周围晃动。 
　　“那个住在城堡的东西。”阿拉哥说，“是一种很古老的动物，我们蜘蛛最害怕的。我还记得很清楚，当我感到它在学校周围活动时，我是怎样恳求哈格力让我走的。” 
　　“是什么？”哈利急切地问。 
　　更多大声钳子响和??声传来，蜘蛛群似乎正在靠近。 
　　“我们不能说起它！”阿拉哥生气地说，“我们不能叫它的名字。 
　　我甚至都没有告诉过哈格力，虽然，他问过我很多遍了。“哈利不想再谈这个话题，特别是当蜘蛛正在从四面八方逐渐逼近时，阿拉哥似乎说的很累了，他往圆形网中间缓缓靠过去，但是其他蜘蛛正一寸一寸的向哈利和罗恩逼近。 
　　“那我们要走了。”哈利对阿拉哥绝望地说，他听到身后树叶的沙沙声。 
　　“走？‘阿拉哥慢慢地说，”我不这样认为……”“但是——但是——” 
　　“在我的命令下，我的儿女不会伤害哈格力，但是我不阻止他们吃肉，尤其是送到我们嘴边来的，再见了，哈格力的朋友。” 
　　哈利四顾张望，发现在他上面几英尺远。是一堵结实的蜘蛛墙，他们的钳子咋咋作响，眼睛在丑陋的脸上闪烁不定…… 
　　即使是在他去拿魔杖时，他也知道这不起作用，因为蜘蛛太多了。但是当试着站起来准备战斗到死的时候，伴随着响亮的长鸣，一道亮光穿过山谷。 
　　威斯里先生的汽车轰隆隆的开下斜坡。它的前灯闪烁着，喇叭响着一路把蜘蛛挤向两边，有些甚至被撞个底朝天，无数条腿不停的在空中晃动。开到哈利和罗恩面前时车停了一下，门打开了。 
　　“去抱弗兰！”哈利冲进前座喊到，罗恩抓住弗兰的腿扔到车后座，门砰地关上。罗恩没有踩加速器，汽车也不需要，在发动机轰鸣声中他们离开了，又撞到了更多蜘蛛。他们冲上斜坡，冲出山谷，很快穿过森林。汽车沿着一条它显然熟知的小径，灵巧的跃过最宽的沟壑，境蜒前进。树枝不断扫过窗户。 
　　哈利从侧面看着罗恩，他的嘴还保持刚才无声的尖叫的形状，可是眼珠却开始转动了。 
　　“你还好吗？” 
　　罗恩直视前方，无法回答。 
　　他们从没长大的树上压过去时，弗兰在后座大声叫着，当他们从一棵大橡树上压过时，哈利看到侧镜折断了。经过十来分钟嘈杂、颠簸的行驶后，树变稀了，哈利可以看到一片片天空了。 
　　汽车突然停住，差点把他们甩到挡风玻璃上，他们已经到了森林边缘。弗兰贴在玻璃上，急着下车。哈利把门一开，它就夹着尾巴穿过森林，直奔哈格力的房子。 
　　哈利先下来，又过了一会儿，罗恩的四肢似乎恢复了知觉也退了出来，可是仍然梗着脖子，瞪着眼睛。哈利充满感激的拍了拍汽车后，它又开回森林，驶出了视线。 
　　哈利回到哈格力的秘室取回隐身斗篷，弗兰躲在他篮子里的毛毯下打着哆嗦，他再出来时，看到罗恩倒在南瓜地上，很不舒服的样子。 
　　“跟着蜘蛛，”罗恩用袖子擦了擦嘴，虚弱地说，“我不会原谅哈格力，我们活下来可是万幸。” 
　　“他一定认为阿拉哥不会伤害他的朋友。”哈利说。 
　　“这正是哈格力的问题！”罗恩重重地击着秘室，“他总认为怪兽不像他们被认定的那么坏，看它把他害到了什么地步！阿兹克班的监狱！”他现在还不由自主地发着科，“把我们指引到那儿干嘛？我倒想知道我们究竟发现了什么？” 
　　“哈格力从未打开神秘秘室。”哈利说着用斗篷遮住罗恩，搀着他让他走起来，“他是无辜的。” 
　　罗恩重重冷哼了一声。 
　　很明显，他不认为把阿拉哥在衣橱中孵化喂大是无辜的。 
　　当城堡隐约在望时，哈利拉了拉斗篷确保他们的脚也被遮住。 
　　然后推开了吱吱作响的大门。他们小心翼翼地走过进口厅，上了花岗石楼梯。 
　　屏着呼吸穿过巡查的老师。最后他们安全地回到了格林芬顿的宿舍大厅，炉火已经烧剩灰烬了。他们脱下斗蓬，爬上了旋转楼梯回到了自己的宿舍。 
　　罗恩没换衣服就瘫上了床。哈利却一点都不觉得困。他坐在床边，回忆着阿拉哥的每一句话。 
　　在城堡四处活动的怪兽，他觉得听起来就向类似福尔得摩特的怪物——即使那些蜘蛛怪不愿说出它的名字。但是他和罗恩还是无法查出它是什么东西，是如何攻击受害人的。连哈格力也不知道神秘秘室里究竟藏了什么。哈利把双腿搭上床铺，头靠着枕头，看着塔楼外明亮的月亮发呆。他不知道该如何查下去。每次找到的线索都把他们引进了死胡同。瑞德抓错了人。 
　　史林德林的后代已经逃走了。没人知道这次开启秘室的，究竟是同一个人，或是另有他人：这也让人无从问起。哈利躺下了，依然想着阿拉哥说的话。 
　　哈利昏昏欲睡。这时，他忽然想到了什么，立即坐了起来。 
　　“罗恩，”黑暗中，他低低喊着，“罗恩！” 
　　罗恩打着呵欠，恼怒地四周张望，这才看见哈利。 
　　“罗恩——那个死去的女孩，阿拉哥说她是在厕所被发现的。”哈利说着，没去管尼维尔的鼻鼾声，“要是她从未离开过厕所？要是她还在哪里？” 
　　罗恩擦了擦眼，月光下的他皱着眉……不一会，他开始了头绪。 
　　“你不认为——是呻吟的麦托勒吧？” 
Chapter 16 The Chamber Of Secrets
“All those times we were in that bathroom, and she was just three toilets away,” said Ron bitterly at breakfast next day, “and we could've asked her, and now…”It had been hard enough trying to look for spiders. Escaping their teachers long enough to sneak into a girls'bathroom, the girls'bathroom, moreover, right next to the scene of the first attack, was going to be almost impossible.But something happened in their first lesson, Transfiguration, that drove the Chamber of Secrets out of their minds for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into the class, Professor McGonagall told them that their exams would start on the first of June, one week from today.“Exams?” howled Seamus Finnigan. “We're still getting exams?”There was a loud bang behind Harry as Neville Longbottom's wand slipped, vanishing one of the legs on his desk.Professor McGonagall restored it with a wave of her own wand, and turned, frowning, to Seamus.“The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education,” she said sternly. “The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard.”Studying hard! It had never occurred to Harry that there would be exams with the castle in this state. There was a great deal of mutinous muttering around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.“Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible, she said. “And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year.”Harry looked down at the pair of white rabbits he was supposed to be turning into slippers. What had he learned so far this year? He couldn't seem to think of anything that would be useful in an exam.Ron looked as though he'd just been told he had to go and live in the Forbidden Forest.“Can you imagine me taking exams with this?” he asked Harry, holding up his wand, which had just started whistling loudly.Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made another announcement at breakfast.“I have good news,” she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.“Dumbledore's coming back!” several people yelled joyfully.“You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!” squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.“Quidditch matches are back on!” roared Wood excitedly.When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.”There was an explosion of cheering. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and wasn't at all surprised to see that Draco Malfoy hadn't joined in. Ron, however, was looking happier than he'd looked in days.“It won't matter that we never asked Myrtle, then!” he said to Harry. “Hermione'll probably have all the answers when they wake her up! Mind you, she'll go crazy when she finds out we've got exams in three days'time. She hasn't studied. It might be kinder to leave her where she is till they're over.”Just then, Ginny Weasley came over and sat down next to Ron. She looked tense and nervous, and Harry noticed that her hands were twisting in her lap.“What's up?” said Ron, helping himself to more porridge.Ginny didn't say anything, but glanced up and down the Gryffindor table with a scared look on her face that reminded Harry of someone, though he couldn't think who.“Spit it out,” said Ron, watching her.Harry suddenly realized who Ginny looked like. She was rocking backward and forward slightly in her chair, exactly like Dobby did when he was teetering on the edge of revealing forbidden information.“I've got to tell you something,” Ginny mumbled, carefully not looking at Harry.“What is it?” said Harry.Ginny looked as though she couldn't find the right words.“What?” said Ron.Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Harry leaned forward and spoke quietly, so that only Ginny and Ron could hear him.“Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?”Ginny drew a deep breath and, at that precise moment, Percy Weasley appeared, looking tired and wan.“If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty.”Ginny jumped up as though her chair had just been electrified, gave Percy a fleeting, frightened look, and scampered away. Percy sat down and grabbed a mug from the center of the table.“Percy!” said Ron angrily. “She was just about to tell us something important!”Halfway through a gulp of tea, Percy choked.“What sort of thing?” he said, coughing.“I just asked her if she'd seen anything odd, and she started to say“Oh - that - that's nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets,” said Percy at once.“How do you know?” said Ron, his eyebrows raised.“Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, er, walked in on me the other day when I was - well, never mind - the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she'd keep her word. It's nothing, really, I'd just rather—”Harry had never seen Percy look so uncomfortable.“What were you doing, Percy?” said Ron, grinning. “Go on, tell us, we won't laugh.”Percy didn't smile back.“Pass me those rolls, Harry, I'm starving.”Harry knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but he wasn't about to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle if it turned up - and to his delight it did, midmorning, when they were being led to History of Magic by Gilderoy Lockhart.Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual; it seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor.“Mark my words,” he said, ushering them around a corner. “The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be It was Hagrid .'Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary.”“I agree, sir,” said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise.“Thank you, Harry, said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. “I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…”“That's right,” said Ron, catching on. “Why don't you leave us here, sir, we've only got one more corridor to go—”“You know, Weasley, I think I will,” said Lockhart. “I really should go and prepare my next class—”And he hurried off.“Prepare his class,” Ron sneered after him. “Gone to curl his hair, more like.”They let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme.“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?”It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines.“We were - we were -” Ron stammered. “We were going to - to go and see—”“Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him.“We haven't seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron's foot, “and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry—”Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice.“Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye. “Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been… I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission.”Harry and Ron walked away, hardly daring to believe that they'd avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose.“That,” said Ron fervently, “was the best story you've ever come up with.”They had no choice now but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall's permission to visit Hermione.Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly.“There's just no point talking to a Petrified. person,” she said, and they had to admit she had a point when they'd taken their seats next to Hermione. It was plain that Hermione didn't have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.“Wonder if she did see the attacker, though?” said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's rigid face. “Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one'll ever know…”But Harry wasn't looking at Hermione's face. He was more interested in her right hand. It lay clenched on top of her blankets, and bending closer, he saw that a piece of paper was scrunched inside her fist.Making sure that Madam Pomfrey was nowhere near, he pointed this out to Ron.“Go on and get it out,” Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey's view.It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch he tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free.It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and Ron leaned close to read it, too.“Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.”And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand Harry recognized as Hermione's. Pipes .It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in his brain.“Ron,” he breathed. “This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber's a basilisk - a giant serpent! That's why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue…”Harry looked up at the beds around him.“The basilisk kills people by looking at them. But no one's died - because no one looked it straight in the eye. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin… Justin must've seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn't die again.. and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror - and—”Rods jaw had dropped.“And Mrs. Norris?” he whispered eagerly.Harry thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween.“The water…” he said slowly. “The flood from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection…”He scanned the page in his hand eagerly. The more he looked at it, the more it made sense.“…The crowing of the rooster… is fatal to it"! he read aloud. “Hagrid's roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! Spiders flee before it.! It all fits!”“But how's the basilisk been getting around the place?” said Ron. “A giant snake… Someone would've seen…”Harry, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.“Pipes,” he said. “Pipes… Ron, it's been using the plumbing. I've been hearing that voice inside the walls…”Ron suddenly grabbed Harry's arm.“The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets!” he said hoarsely. “What if it's a bathroom? What if it's in—”“Moaning Myrtle's bathroom,” said Harry.They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it.“This means,” said Harry, “I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how he's been controlling the basilisk.”“What're we going to do?” said Ron, whose eyes were flashing. “Should we go straight to McGonagall?”“Let's go to the staff room,” said Harry, jumping up. “She'll be there in ten minutes. It's nearly break.”They ran downstairs. Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, paneled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down.But the bell to signal break never came.Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified.“All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.”Harry wheeled around to stare at Ron. “Not another attack? Not now?”“What'll we do?” said Ron, aghast. “Go back to the dormitory?” “No,” said Harry, glancing around. There was an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers'cloaks. “In here. Let's hear what it's all about. Then we can tell them what we've found out.”They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, they watched the teachers filtering into the room. Some of them were looking puzzled, others downright scared. Then Professor McGonagall arrived.“It has happened,” she told the silent staff room. “A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.”Professor Flitwick let out a squeal. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape gripped the back of a chair very hard and said, “How can you be sure?”“The Heir of Slytherin,” said Professor McGonagall, who was very white, “left another message. Right underneath the first one. Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.”Professor Flitwick burst into tears.“Who is it?” said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. “Which student?”“Ginny Weasley,” said Professor McGonagall.Harry felt Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor beside him.“We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow,” said Professor McGonagall. “This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…”The staffroom door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming.“So sorry - dozed off - what have I missed?”He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Snape stepped forward.“Just the man,” he said. “The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.”Lockhart blanched.“That's right, Gilderoy,” chipped in Professor Sprout. “Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”“I - well, I -“sputtered Lockhart.“Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?” piped up Professor Flitwick.“D-did I? I don't recall—”“I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested,” said Snape. “Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?”Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues.“I - I really never - you may have misunderstood—”“We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy,” said Professor McGonagall. “Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by youself. A free rein at last.”Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.“V-very well,” he said. “I'll - I'll be in my office, getting - getting ready.”And he left the room.“Right,” said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, “that's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.”The teachers rose and left, one by one.It was probably the worst day of Harry's entire life. He, Ron, Fred, and George sat together in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, unable to say anything to each other. Percy wasn't there. He had gone to send an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Gryffindor Tower ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. Near sunset, Fred and George went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer.“She knew something, Harry,” said Ron, speaking for the first time since they had entered the wardrobe in the staff room. “That's why she was taken. It wasn't some stupid thing about Percy at all., She'd found out something about the Chamber of Secrets. That must be why she was -” Ron rubbed his eyes frantically. “I mean, she was a pure-blood. There can't be any other reason.”Harry could see the sun sinking, blood-red, below the skyline. This was the worst he had ever felt. If only there was something they could do. Anything.“Harry” said Ron. “D'you think there's any chance at all she's not - you know—”Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't see how Ginny could still be alive.“D'you know what?” said Ron. “I think we should go and see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber. We can tell him where we think it is, and tell him it's a basilisk in there.”Because Harry couldn't think of anything else to do, and because he wanted to be doing something, he agreed. The Gryffindors around them were so miserable, and felt so sorry for the Weasleys, that nobody tried to stop them as they got up, crossed the room, and left through the portrait hole.Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.Harry knocked and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peering through it.“Oh - Mr. Potter - Mr. Weasley -” he said, opening the door a bit wider. “I'm rather busy at the moment -if you would be quick—”“Professor, we've got some information for you,” said Harry. “We think it'll help you.”“Er - well - it's not terribly -” The side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. “I mean - well - all right—”He opened the door and they entered.His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes, jade-green, lilac, midnight blue, had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.“Are you going somewhere?” said Harry.“Er, well, yes,” said Lockhart, ripping a life-size poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. “Urgent call - unavoidable - got to go—”“What about my sister?” said Ron jerkily.“Well, as to that - most unfortunate -” said Lockhart, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. “No one regrets more than I—”“You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!” said Harry. “You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!”“Well - I must say - when I took the job -” Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. “nothing in the job description - didn't expect—”“You mean you're running away?” said Harry disbelievingly. “After all that stuff you did in your books—”“Books can be misleading,” said Lockhart delicately.“You wrote them!” Harry shouted.“My dear boy,” said Lockhart, straightening up and frowning at Harry. “Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on—”“So you've just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?” said Harry incredulously.“Harry, Harry,” said Lockhart, shaking his head impatiently, “it's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it. If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, Harry. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog.”He banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.“Let's see,” he said. “I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left.”He pulled out his wand and turned to them.“Awfully sorry, boys, but I'll have to put a Memory Charm on you now. Can't have you blabbing my secrets all over the place. I'd never sell another book—”Harry reached his wand just in time. Lockhart had barely raised his, when Harry bellowed, ” Expelliarmus! ”Lockhart was blasted backward, falling over his trunk; his wand flew high into the air; Ron caught it, and flung it out of the open window.“Shouldn't have let Professor Snape teach us that one,” said Harry furiously, kicking Lockhart's trunk aside. Lockhart was looking up at him, feeble once more. Harry was still pointing his wand at him.“What d'you want me to do?” said Lockhart weakly. “I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do.”“You're in luck,” said Harry, forcing Lockhart to his feet at wandpoint. “We think we know where it is. And what's inside it. Let's go.”They marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages shone on the wall, to the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.They sent Lockhart in first. Harry was pleased to see that he was shaking.Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.“Oh, it's you,” she said when she saw Harry. “What do you want this time?”“To ask you how you died,” said Harry.Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.“Ooooh, it was dreadful,” she said with relish. “It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then -” Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. “I died .”“How?” said Harry.“No idea,” said Myrtle in hushed tones. “I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…” She looked dreamily at Harry. “And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses.”“Where exactly did you see the eyes?” said Harry.“Somewhere there,” said Myrtle, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.Harry and Ron hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face.It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Harry saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake.“That tap's never worked,” said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it.“Harry,” said Ron. “Say something. Something in Parseltongue.”“But -” Harry thought hard. The only times he'd ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when he'd been faced with a real snake. He stared hard at the tiny engraving, trying to imagine it was real.“Open up,” he said.He looked at Ron, who shook his head.“English,” he said.Harry looked back at the snake, willing himself to believe it was alive. If he moved his head, the candlelight made it look as though it were moving.“Open up,” he said.Except that the words weren't what he heard; a strange hissing had escaped him, and at once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.Harry heard Ron gasp and looked up again. He had made up his mind what he was going to do.“I'm going down there,” he said.He couldn't not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive.“Me too,” said Ron.There was a pause.“Well, you hardly seem to need me,” said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. “I'll just—”He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron and Harry both pointed their wands at him.“You can go first,” Ron snarled.White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.“Boys,” he said, his voice feeble. “Boys, what good will it do?”Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.“I really don't think -” he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. Harry followed quickly. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go.It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Ron, thudding slightly at the curves.And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe leveled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost. Harry stood aside as Ron came whizzing out of the pipe, too.“We must be miles under the school,” said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.“Under the lake, probably,” said Ron, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.All three of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead.“Lumos! ” Harry muttered to his wand and it lit again. “C'mon,” he said to Ron and Lockhart, and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.“Remember,” Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, “any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…”But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.“Harry - there's something up there -” said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder.They froze, watching. Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.“Maybe it's asleep,” he breathed, glancing back at the other two. Lockhart's hands were pressed over his eyes. Harry turned back to look at the thing, his heart beating so fast it hurt.Very slowly, his eyes as narrow as he could make them and still see, Harry edged forward, his wand held high.The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.“Blimey,” said Ron weakly.There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart's knees had given way.“Get up,” said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart.Lockhart got to his feet - then he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground.Harry jumped forward, but too late - Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.“The adventure ends here, boys!” he said. “I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body - say good-bye to your memories!”He raised Ron's Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled , “Obliviate! ”The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing alone, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock.“Ron!” he shouted. “Are you okay? Ron!”“I'm here!” came Ron's muffled voice from behind the rockfall. “I'm okay - this git's not, though - he got blasted by the wand—”There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins.“What now?” Ron's voice said, sounding desperate. “We can't get through - it'll take ages…”Harry looked up at the tunnel ceiling. Huge cracks had appeared in it. He had never tried to break apart anything as large as these rocks by magic, and now didn't seem a good moment to try - what if the whole tunnel caved in?There was another thud and another “ow!” from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours… Harry knew there was only one thing to do.“Wait there,” he called to Ron. “Wait with Lockhart. I'll go on… If I'm not back in an hour…”There was a very pregnant pause, “I'll try and shift some of this rock,” said Ron, who seemed to be trying to keep his voice steady. “So you can - can get back through. And, Harry—”“See you in a bit,” said Harry, trying to inject some confidence into his shaking voice.And he set off alone past the giant snake skin.Soon the distant noise of Ron straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.“Open,” said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and Harry, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.
“那段时间我们一起待在厕所里，而她和我们也只隔三个间隔，” 　　第二天早餐时罗恩痛苦地说，“我们本来可以问她的，但现在——” 　　找蜘蛛已经够难的了，而想要在长时间内不引起老师们的注意的情况下，溜进女厕所，并且还是第一次袭击发生现场隔壁的女厕里去，就更不可能了。 　　但上第一节课时，事情有了点变化，这让他们在这几星期里第一次没去想什么“秘室之谜”。课上到十分钟的时候，麦康娜教授跟他们说考试将在七月一日开始，离现在还有一个星期。 　　“考试？”谢默斯哀号道。“现在还考什么试？” 　　哈利身后响起“砰”的一声，原来尼维尔的魔杖滑到地上了，把一只桌腿给变没了。随着一阵光亮，麦康娜教授用她自己的魔杖又把桌子恢复原状，然后转过身来，朝着谢默斯不悦地皱着眉。 　　“这个候还上课就是为了让你们继续接受教育，”她严厉地说，“因此，考试将照常进行，并且我相信你们一直都很努力地复习。” 　　努力复习！哈利压根儿没想到城堡里都乱成这样了还要考试，教室里一片不满的抱怨声。麦康娜教授眉头皱得更阴沉了。 　　“丹伯多教授的指令是要尽力保持学校正常运转，”她说，“并且，用不着我明说，这是要看看这一年里你们究竟学了多少。” 　　哈利低头看着要求变成拖鞋的一对白兔。他学了什么呢？看起来他脑瓜子里完全没有考试的有用资料。 　　罗恩看起来就像是刚被通知必须搬到禁林里住一样。 　　“你能想象我就凭这个参加考试吗？”他问哈利，举起他那根刚刚开始大声鸣笛的魔杖。 　　离第一场考试还有三天的时候，麦康娜教授在早餐时，又宣布了第一个通知。 　　“好消息，”她说，这时，整个大厅的人都打破沉默，闹了开来。 　　“丹伯多要回来了！”几个人高兴地喊道。 　　“他已经捉到史林德林的后代了！”坐在罗尼文克劳桌子上的一个女孩尖叫。 　　“快迪斯比赛重新举行了！”伍德兴奋地大吼。 　　等吵闹声平息下来，麦康娜教授才说：“史鲍将教授通知我说万锐克成熟到可供使用了。今天晚上，我们就可以把吓傻的受害者救活过来，用不着提醒，你们也知道他们其中一个可能会告诉我们谁，或者是什么东西，袭击他们，真希望这可怕的一年以罪魁祸首就擒告终。” 　　人群中爆出一阵欢呼。哈利朝史林德林台望去，马尔夫没有加入欢呼，这哈利倒一点也不惊讶。但是，罗恩就显得比前些日子开心多了。 　　“那我们问不问麦托勒都无关了！”他对哈利说。“等她们叫醒荷米恩，一切都会明白的！你想想，要是她知道三天后就要考试，她肯定会疯掉的。其实最好在考试结束之前别救醒地。” 　　就在这时，金妮。威斯里走了过来，在罗恩旁边坐下了。她显得紧张兮兮的，并且哈利注意到：她一直把手放在膝部援揉着。 　　“发生什么事了？”罗恩一边问，一边吃着麦片粥。 　　金妮什么也没说，只是来来回回地瞥着那张格林芬顿桌子，一脸的惶恐，她的表请让哈利想起了一个人，但他就是想不起来究竟是谁。 　　“说啊！”罗恩瞪着她。 　　哈利忽然意识到金妮像谁，她坐在椅子上，轻轻地前后摇摆着，就跟多比犹豫着要泄露绝密的时候的动作一样。 　　“我要告诉你一些事。”金妮咕哝着，小心翼翼地躲过哈利询问的目光。 　　“什么？”哈利问。 　　金妮似乎找不到合适的词句。 　　“什么？”罗恩也问。 　　金妮开了开口，但并没有发出声音，哈利向前靠了靠，小声地说着，这样就只有金妮和罗恩能听到她的话了。 　　“是不是跟神秘秘室有关？你看到什么了？有人举止怪异吗？” 　　金妮深吸一口气。就在这时，伯希。威斯里出现了，看起来又疲倦又苍白。 　　“要是你已经吃完了，就把位子留给我吧，金妮，我快饿死了。我刚巡完逻。” 　　金妮立刻跳了起来，就像是椅子上有电似的，她惊骇地瞥了伯希一眼，跑开了，伯希坐了下来，抓起桌子中间的一只杯子。 　　“伯希！‘罗恩生气地喊，”她正要告诉我们一些重要的事呢！“伯希的茶正喝到一半，呛住了。 　　“什么事？”他问，猛咳着。 　　“我问她有没有看到什么怪异的事，她正要开口——” 　　“懊——那一定跟神秘秘室没关。”伯希马上说。 　　“你怎么知道？”罗恩问道，眉头耸起。 　　“呃，要是你一定要知道的话，金妮，呃，那天碰到我，她看到我正在做一件事。我，呃，我求她别跟别人提起。我得说，她的确有遵守诺言。没什么事，真的，我只是宁愿——” 　　哈利从没有看伯希这么不安过。 　　“你在搞什么鬼，伯希？”罗恩咧着嘴笑道。“说吧，我们不会嘲笑你的。” 　　伯希没有笑。 　　“把面包围递给我，哈利，我快饿坏了。” 　　虽然哈利知道就算没有他们的帮助，整个秘密也会在明天揭晓的，但他并不打算放弃跟麦托勒交谈的机会，（如果它现身的话）——而让他高兴的是，到中午罗克哈特领他们上魔法历史课的时候，机会来了。 　　罗克哈特总是跟他们保证，危险已经过去了。可他的担保只能是被证明是错误的，但他现在却更深信不疑了。他觉得根本不用这么麻烦，得看着他们安全走过走廊。他的头发不像平时那么光滑，看起来，他大半夜都在四楼巡逻。 　　“记住我说的，”他说着，把他们引到一个角落，“这些可怜的受害者们说的第一句话将会是：”是哈格力干的。‘坦白地说，我实在很惊讶。麦康娜教授却认为这些保安措施有必要。”“我同意，先生，“哈利说道。这让罗恩大吃一惊，书都掉了下来。 　　“谢谢，哈利，”当他们等着一长排的海夫巴夫学生通过的时候，罗克哈特亲切地道谢。“我的意思是，我们教师要忙的事已经够多了，就用不着带领学生上课和整晚防卫……” 　　“没错，”罗恩应道，一副完全了解的样子。“先生，不如就让我们自己去吧，反正也只有一条走廊了。” 　　“你知道，威斯里，我想我会的，”罗克哈特说，“我必须回去备课了。” 　　于是，他匆匆忙忙走了。 　　“备课，”罗恩朝着他轻蔑地说，“我看更像是去卷头发。” 　　他们让其余的格林芬顿走在他们前面，然后，急奔着侧身过去，又匆忙朝着麦托勒的浴室冲去。但就在他们正为这一完美计划庆贺时……”“波特！威斯里！你们在干什么？” 　　是麦康娜教授，她的嘴唇抿成薄薄一线。 　　“我们——我们——”罗恩结结巴巴地说，“我们打算去——去看——” 　　“荷米恩。”哈利接上，罗恩和麦康娜教授都看着他。 　　“我们好久没看过她了，教授，”哈利赶紧继续说，踩了踩罗恩的脚，“我们想从医院侧面溜进去，告诉她，一切都好，呃，还有叫她别担心。” 　　麦康娜教授还在盯着他，有那么一刻，哈利觉得她就要发作了。 　　但当她开口时，声音却是古古怪怪，凄凄惨惨的。 　　“当然，”她说。哈利惊奇地看到一滴泪珠在她圆小的眼睛里闪烁着，“当然，我知道最难受的就是你们这些朋友……我明白的。是的，波特，你当然可以探望格兰位小姐。我会通知宾西教授你的去向的。就跟波姆弗雷夫人说是我允许的。” 　　哈利和罗恩走开了，几乎不敢相信他们居然没被留下，当他们走过拐角处时，清楚地听到麦康娜教授在手擤鼻涕。 　　罗恩热切地说：“这可是你编过的最完美的故事。” 　　他们别无选择，只好从医院侧面进去，告诉波姆弗雷夫人说麦康娜教授批准他们来探望荷米恩。 　　波姆弗雷夫人让他们进去了，但看起来相当不情愿。 　　“跟一个吓僵的人有什么好谈的，”她说。而当他们坐在荷米恩身边时，也不得不承认这一点，很显然，荷米恩半点也没意识到她有来客，跟她说不用担心也许倒不如叫她床边的柜橱不用担心？ 　　“真不知道她究竟有没有看到袭击者？”罗恩说，悲伤地望着荷米恩僵硬的脸庞。“因为如果他在暗中偷袭的话，就没有人会知道……” 　　但哈利并没在看荷米恩的脸，他更对她的右手更感兴趣，她的手紧握着，放在毛毯上，哈利弯腰凑近些看，只见她拳中拽着一张纸。 　　确定波姆弗雷夫人不在附近后，他把这指给罗恩看。 　　“试着把它拿出来。”罗恩低声说，移了移椅子，挡住波姆弗雷夫人的视线。 　　这个差事可不容易。荷米思的手把那张纸擦得紧紧的。哈利都觉得自己一定会把它撕碎的，罗恩紧盯着他又拉又扯的。紧张的几分钟后，那张纸总算是被扯出来了。 　　这是一张从旧图书上撕下来的纸，哈利急切地想把它抚平，罗恩也靠过来看。 　　“在世间游荡的可怕的野兽和怪物中，再没有比巴斯里斯克，‘蟒蛇之王’，更奇异或更致命的了。巴斯里斯克体积巨大，寿命可达无数个百年，它从癞蛤蟆腹下的鸡蛋中孵化而出，最不可思议的是它杀戮的方式。它不仅有致命的毒牙，还有那极其危险的凝视，任何接触到眼光的人都将立即毙命。巴斯里斯克是蜘蛛的天敌，因此只要有巴斯里斯克的地方，蜘蛛都会溃逃一空。而公鸡的喔喔声对巴斯里斯克是致命的，因此它闻鸡鸣便逃。” 　　文字下有一个字，哈利认得是荷米恩的笔迹“管”。 　　就像是有人在他脑里射入一丝光线一样。 　　“罗恩，”他吸了口气，“就是这个，这就是答案。秘室里的怪物是巴斯里斯克——一条巨蟒！那就是为什么我到处都可以听到那种声音，而其他人却没有。这是因为我懂蛇话……” 　　哈利抬头望着四周的病床。 　　“巴斯里斯克靠凝视来杀人，但没有人死——因为，没有人直接用眼睛看过它，柯林透过照像机来看它，巴斯里斯克把里面的胶卷烧成了灰，而柯林只是变成了僵人。贾斯丁……贾斯丁肯定是透过眼镜来看的！所以眼镜爆炸了，但他还是死不了……而且，发现荷米恩和那个卫文卡罗的时候，有一面镜子在他们旁边。荷米恩刚刚想出那怪物就是巴斯里斯克，我敢打赌她警告她遇到的第一个人——那个卫文卡罗，要先用镜子看看角落！然后她拿出她的镜子——接着——” 　　罗恩下颌就快掉下来了。 　　“那诺丽丝夫人？”他急切地低语。 　　哈利努力地思考着，想象着万圣节之夜的情景。 　　“水……”他缓缓地说着，“从麦托勒浴室里流出来的水。我打赌诺丽丝夫人只看到倒映……” 　　他急切地创览手里的纸片。越看就越像了。 　　“公鸡的喔喔声对巴斯里斯克是致命的！”他大声地读了出来，“哈格力的公鸡被杀了！一旦秘室之谜开启，史林德林不想城堡附近有任何的公鸡！‘蜘蛛溃逃一空！’，全部都符合！” 　　“但巴斯里斯克怎么能进来呢？”罗恩说道，“一条脏脏的大蛇……肯定会有人看到的……” 　　但哈利却指着荷米恩潦草写着的那一个字。 　　“管”，他说，“管……罗恩，它是利用下水道过来的。我有在墙内听到那种声音……” 　　罗恩忽然抓住哈利的手臂。 　　“神秘秘室的人口！”他嘶哑地喊道。“万一是在浴室？万一是——” 　　“麦托勒的浴室。”哈利说。 　　他们坐在那里，激动万分，简直无法相信这一切。 　　“这意味着。”哈利说道，“我并不是学校里唯一会讲蛇语的人，史林德林的后代也会。他们就是用这来控制巴斯里斯克的。” 　　“我们该怎么办？”罗恩说，眼睛闪烁着。“要不要直接去找麦康娜教授？” 　　“我们先去职员室。”哈利跳了起来。“十分钟后她就会在那的，就快下课了。” 　　他们跑下楼，他们不想被人发现在走廊里游荡，于是直接去了空无一人的职员室，房间很大，摆满了黑色的木椅，哈利和罗恩走来走去，兴奋得不愿坐下来。 　　但是下课铃没响。 　　麦康娜教授的声音倒是在走廊间回响了起来，魔法般地放大了声音。 　　“所有学生马上回到宿舍里去，所有老师回到教员室。立即。” 　　哈利转头盯着罗恩。 　　“不会是又一次袭击？不是现在？” 　　“我们怎么办？”罗恩吓呆了，“回去宿舍？” 　　“不，”哈利望了望四周，左边有一个相当难看的衣柜，放满了老师们的斗篷。 　　“进去，听听发生了什么事。然后，我们可以告诉他们我们的发现。” 　　他们躲在里面，听着楼上成百上千个人走动的隆隆声和教员室门打开的声音。 　　透过斗篷那发霉的折层，他们看着老师们纷纷走进房间里来，有些人看起来满脸疑惑，其他人则满脸恐慌，接着，麦康娜教授进来了。 　　“又发生了，”她说道，教员们一言不发。“一个学生被怪物捉了。 　　带进了神秘秘室。“弗立特教授发出一声尖叫，史的特教授用手后住嘴，史纳皮紧紧地握着椅背：”你能确定吗？” 　　“史林德林的后代，”麦康娜教授脸色十分苍白，“又留下了信息，就放在第一张下面——她的骸骨将永留在神秘秘室。” 　　弗立特教授的眼泪流了下来。 　　“是谁？”霍克夫人身子下沉，两腿发软。“哪一位学生？” 　　“金妮。威斯里。”麦康娜教授应道。 　　哈利感觉到旁边的罗恩身子正悄悄下滑到衣柜地板上。 　　“明天我们必须把所有学生送回家，”麦康娜教授说道，“霍格瓦斯特完了，丹伯多总是说……” 　　教员室再次砰然打开了。有那么一会，哈利认为肯定是丹伯多。 　　但那是罗克哈特，一帽兴高采烈的样子。 　　“对不起——打了个盹——我错过什么了吗？” 　　他似乎并没注意到其他老师以明显仇恨的眼光望着他。史纳皮上前一步。 　　“就是你了。”他说，“关键人物就是你了，一个女孩已经被怪物捉去了。你该动手了。” 　　罗克哈特的脸十分苍白。 　　“没错，罗克哈特，”史鲍特教授插口说，“昨晚你不是说你已经知道秘室的人口在哪嘛？” 　　“我——我——”罗克哈特含糊地说着。 　　“是啊，你不是说你知道里面是什么东西吗？”弗立特教授喊道。 　　“我——我说过吗？我不记得……” 　　“我清清楚楚记得你说你后悔没在哈格力被捉住之前好好给那怪物一击。”史纳皮说，“你不是说整件事都已经被搞坏了，一开始就应该让你放手干的吗？‘” 　　罗克哈特瞪眼望着同事们一张张冷冰冰的脸。 　　“我……我真的没有……你们肯定是误会了……” 　　“那么我们就看你的了，罗克哈特，”麦康娜教授说，“今天晚上就开始行动吧。我们保证没有人会妨碍你的。你可以单枪匹马就把那怪兽给解决掉。” 　　罗克哈特绝望地看看四周，可没人愿意帮他。他看起来也不再冷峻了。他的嘴唇颤抖着，不再露齿而笑的他显得既憔悴又虚弱。 　　“那好，”他说，“我会——我会回去办公室，准——准备一下。” 　　他离开了。 　　“好了，”麦康娜教授的鼻孔一张一歙的，“总算把他赶出去了，院长们去通知学生所发生的事，告诉他们明天一大早霍格瓦斯特的快车会送他们回家。其他的人去确定一下没有学生在宿舍外逗留。” 　　教师们起身，一个接一个地离开了。 　　这是哈利一生中最糟糕透顶的一天。他，罗恩、弗来德和乔治一起坐在格林芬顿宿舍的一个角落里，彼此都沉默不语。伯希不在那。 　　他给威斯里夫妇送过那坏消息后，就把自己关在宿舍里。 　　从来没有像那天这样长的下午，格林芬顿宿舍也从未有那样拥挤，然而又那样沉寂过，快到日落了，弗来德和乔治上床去了，没法再那样坐着了。 　　“她知道一些什么，哈利？”从他们躲进衣柜时起，罗恩第一次开口。“所以她才会被带走。根本不是伯希的什么傻事。她发现了有关秘室的一些事。肯定是因为这个，她才会——”罗恩用力地擦着眼睛，“我是说，不会有其它原因的。” 　　哈利眺望着血红的夕阳沉入地平线，他从没有这么难受过，要是他们能做些什么就好了，任何事。 　　“哈利，”罗恩说道，“你说有没有可能她没有——你知道——” 　　哈利不知道该说些什么。他想不出金妮还会活着。 　　“我们该怎么办？”罗恩说，“我觉得我们应该去看看罗克哈特。 　　告诉他我们所知的。他就要试着进入秘室了。我们可以告诉他我们认为的入口处，还有是巴斯里斯克在里面。“哈利想不出其它可行的办法，并且他也想做点什么，于是他同意了。当他们要出发时，并没有人来制止他们，只因其他人也同样地难受和伤心。哈利和罗恩翻身起来，穿过房间，从肖像洞里钻了出去。 　　当他们朝罗克哈特的办公室走去时，夜幕渐临，看起来，办公室里的活动倒不少。刮削声，呼呼声和匆忙的脚步声不时传来。 　　哈利敲了敲门，里面忽然静了下来。接着，门只开了细细的一道缝，罗克哈特的眼睛朝外瞥着。 　　“哦……哈利……罗恩……”他把门开大了少许。“我现在正忙着，要是你们能快点……” 　　“教授，我们是为您提供信息的，”哈利说，“我们觉得这可能会有帮助。” 　　“呃——这样不——”他们能看到罗克哈特的半边脸显得相当不安。“我是说——呃——好吧。” 　　他打开门让他们进去了。 　　他的办公室几乎是空空如也。两个大皮箱放在地板上，敞开着。 　　翠绿色的，淡紫色的，蓝色的礼服，全都胡乱地塞在其中一个皮箱里。 　　书则杂乱无章地塞进另一个皮箱。挂在墙上的相片则挤入到桌子上的箱子里去了。 　　“你要去哪里？”哈利问。 　　“呃，是的，”罗克哈特答道，一边把门后挂着的一张真人大小的自己的海报扯下来，然后把它卷起。“紧急电话……没办法……得走了……” 　　“我妹妹怎么办？”罗恩急切地问。 　　“呃，至于这个——太不幸了，”他猛拉抽屉，开始把里面的东西倒入袋子里，一直躲开他们的眼光，“没有人比我更难过了——” 　　“你是黑巫术防卫教授！”哈利喊，“你不能走！不能对这里的邪恶势力撒手不理！” 　　“呃，我得说……我找这份工作的时候……”罗克哈特咕咕着，开始把袜子堆在礼服上，“工作要求上可没提这个……没想到……” 　　“你的意思是说你要开溜？”哈利难以置信，“可你在书上写了你以往做的英雄事迹……” 　　“书也可能会误导人。”罗克哈特小心翼翼地说。 　　“你写的！”哈利大吼。 　　“亲爱的孩子，”罗克哈特站直身子，朝哈利皱着眉头，“动动脑子吧，要是别人不认为我干过那些事，我的书就一半也卖不出了。没人要读那些老掉牙的美国巫师的故事，即使他的确打败狼人，拯救过村庄。在封面上，他可看起来糟透了，一点穿着品味都没有。而那位女巫，驱逐女妖精的那位，还是兔唇呢。我是说，来吧……” 　　“因此你就冒名顶替别人干过的事？”哈利无法相信。 　　“哈利啊哈利，”罗克哈特不耐烦地摇着头，“事情可不只那么简单，还得干点其它的。我得跟踪他们，详细地察问他们是怎样成功做到的，然后给他们下‘记忆魔咒’这样他们可就记不起曾做过的事了，要说我有什么值得骄傲的，那就是我的‘记忆魔咒’了。不，还得做很多工序呢，哈利，这并不只是写书和发布照片。 　　要名利，你就必须准备做长期的艰苦劳力。” 　　他砰然把皮箱盖上，锁紧。 　　“让我看看，”他说，“我想就这些了吧。哦，对，还有一件事。” 　　他拿出他的魔杖，指向他们。 　　“实在抱歉，孩子们，但我不得不给你们下‘记忆魔咒’了，可不能让你们把我的秘密到处乱说。否则，我下一本书可就卖不出去了——” 　　哈利及时拿到他自己的魔杖，罗克哈特还没抬起他的，就听到哈利怒吼一声，“依斯毕利艾玛斯！” 　　罗克哈特被震得连连退步，跌倒在他的皮箱上，他的魔杖也震飞到了空中。罗恩一把抓住，扔出了窗外。 　　“应该叫史纳皮教授教我们那一招，”哈利气愤极了，一脚把罗克哈特的皮箱踢开。罗克哈特抬头望着他，这次又显得衰弱了下来。 　　哈利依然用魔杖指着他。 　　“你们要我干什么？”罗克哈特怯懦地说，“我不知道神秘秘室在哪里，我无能无才。” 　　“你运气好，”哈利说着，用魔杖指着他，迫使他站起来，“我想我们知道它在哪，还知道里面有什么，走吧。” 　　他们把罗克哈特押着出了办公室，走下最近的楼梯，沿着那条黑暗走廊，直到走到麦托勒的浴室门前。 　　他们让罗克哈特先进去。哈利很高兴看到他在颤抖。 　　麦托勒正坐在最后一格厕所的水箱上。 　　“哦，是你啊，”当她看到哈利时说，“这次你要什么？” 　　“问你你是怎么死的。”哈利问。 　　麦托勒整个样子都变了，她看起来像从未被问过这样合她口味的问题。 　　“噢，可怕极了。”她津津有味地说着。“就是在这发生的。我就是在这个小房间死去的。我记得清清楚楚。我躲了起来，因为何比老是取笑我的眼镜。门锁了，我在哭，这时，我听到有人进来了，他们说的话古里古怪的。我猜那，肯定是外语吧。不管怎样，真正吸引我的是一个男孩的声音。所以，我打开门，叫他用自己的厕所，接着——”麦托勒得意洋洋地着重说道，满脸光辉，“我死了。” 　　“怎么死的？”哈利问。 　　“不清楚，”麦托勒用一种沉静的音调说，“我只记得看到一双巨大的黄眼睛。 　　我的整个身躯都像被提了起来，接着，我便飘走了……“她如梦般望着哈利，”然后，我又回来了。我决定缠着何比，哦，她可后悔嘲笑我了。” 　　“在哪里看到那双眼睛的？”哈利问。 　　“大概在那里吧。”麦托勒说，模模糊糊地指向她的厕所前的水槽。 　　哈利和罗思赶紧走过去，罗克哈特站得远远的，一脸极度的恐惧。 　　那看起来只是一个普通的水槽而已，他们里里外外地检查了每一寸，包括下面的管道，接着，哈利看到了：在铜水龙头的一侧刻有一条极小的蛇。 　　“那水龙头一直都开不了，”当哈利试着要转动那水龙头时，麦托勒开心地说道。 　　“哈利，”罗恩提醒他，“说些什么吧，用帕斯尔莫斯。” 　　“但是——”哈利思索着，唯—一次他成功说出帕斯尔莫斯是他遇到一条真蛇的时候。他紧盯着那微形蛇雕，试着想象它是真蛇。 　　“开启。”他说。 　　他望着罗恩，罗恩朝他摇了摇头。 　　“这是英语。”他说。 　　哈利重新望着蛇雕，希望自己相信那是活的。他移了移头，烛光映在蛇雕上，使它看起来似乎在动。 　　“开启。”他说。 　　可是，他听到的并不是这两个字；他口里发出的是一阵奇异的嘶嘶声，顷刻间，水龙头便罩在一片灿烂的白光中，并开始旋转，紧接着，水槽也开始移动了。事实上，水槽下沉，露出一条的管道，宽得足够让一人滑入。 　　哈利听到罗恩在喘气，于是再次抬头望着他。哈利已打定主意怎样做了。 　　“我要从这里下去。”他说。 　　他不能不去。既然现在他们已经发现秘室的入口，就算是金妮仍可能存活的希望再微弱，再渺茫，他也不能不去。 　　“还有我。”罗恩说道。 　　一时间，大家都沉默了。 　　“呃，你们似乎用不着我，”罗克哈特说，带着一丝原来的微笑的影子。“那我就——” 　　他把手放在门把上，但罗恩和哈利都同时把魔杖指向他。 　　“你先去。”罗恩大吼。 　　罗克哈特来到入口，脸色苍白，精神恍惚。 　　“孩子们，”他的声音软弱无力，“孩子们，这有什么好处吗？” 　　哈利用魔杖猛捅他背后一下。罗克哈特把腿伸进管内。 　　“我真的觉得——”他开口说着，但罗恩推了他一下，他便滑入管内，消失无踪了。哈利很快跟了上去。他慢慢钻进管内，然后一路下滑。 　　管道内污秽，漆黑，而又似乎永无止境。他可以看到旁伸侧引的许多其它管道，但没有一条是像他们这一条那样庞大的。扭曲、旋转、陡直下滑。他知道自己已经滑下远深于学校和地牢的位置。他可以听到，在他身后，罗恩砰然跌落拐弯处的声音。 　　就在他开始担心落地后，会发生什么事时，管道水平伸了出去，而他“砰”的一声，从管道尾端射出，落在石制地下道湿漉漉的地板上。地下道足以让人站立而行，四周漆黑一片。罗克哈特在附近不远处站了起来。浑身都是粘泥，脸色苍白得跟鬼魂一般。哈利站在一旁，等着罗恩也飕飕作响地飞出管道。 　　“我们离学校肯定有数里远了。”哈利说的声音在漆黑的地下道里回响着。 　　“可能在湖底。”罗恩一边说，一边审视着四周那黑漆漆，粘乎乎的墙壁。 　　三人都转而凝视着前方的那一片黑暗。 　　“点灯！”哈利朝着魔杖咕哝一声，它又重新亮了起来，“走吧。”他对着罗恩和罗克哈特说道。他们开始出发了，在湿地行走，脚步声分外响亮。 　　地下管实在太了，他们只能看到前方的一小段距离。魔杖营光中，他们的影子映在墙上，看起来异常恐怖。 　　“记住，”当他们小心谨慎地步步前移，哈利悄声说，“听到任何动静，都要立即闭上眼睛逃跑……” 　　可地下管内静如孤坟，而他们所听到的第一次意外的声响就是罗恩踩在老鼠头盖骨上发出的碎裂声。哈利放低魔杖，查看地板，只见地板上零乱散着小动物的尸骨。哈利努力试着不去想象金妮会成什么样子，他在前面领着路，走过地下道内的一拐弯处。 　　“哈利，前面有东西……”罗恩声音嘶哑地喊，抓着哈利的肩膀。 　　他们吓呆了，观察着。哈利只能看到那东西巨大、弯曲的轮廓线，就躺在地下道的转角处，它并没有移动。 　　“也许它睡着了。”他吸了一口气，转身看了看其他两位。罗克哈特把手紧捂在眼睛上。哈利再转身重新观察那件东西，他的心跳近乎刺痛。 　　哈利把眼睛眯得尽量小，他慢慢地向前挪动着，手里的魔杖高高举起。 　　莹光划过的是一张巨蟒皮，令人厌恶的鲜绿色，蜡曲着，空荡荡地躺在地下道地板上。蜕下这张皮的巨蟒肯定至少有二十英尺长。 　　“啊呀！”罗恩无力地叹道。 　　他们身后忽然有了动静。罗克哈特已经膝盖发软了。 　　“起来！”罗恩锐利地说，魔杖指着他。 　　罗克哈特一跃而起——他冲向罗恩，把他扑倒在地。 　　哈利往前冲去，但已经太迟了。罗克哈特挺直身躯，喘着气，手里捏着罗恩的魔杖，面带一丝微笑。 　　“历险到此为止。孩子们！”他说，“我会拿起这张皮回到学校，告诉他们，拯助那女孩已经太迟了，而你们，一看到她面目全非的尸体，就疯了，跟你们的记忆说再见吧！” 　　他把罗恩的魔杖高举过头顶，大喊一声，“欧比里马阿塔。” 　　魔杖在他头顶炸开了。哈利用手盖住头，往前跑，滑过蛇皮，躲开了直往下坠的从地下道天花板脱落的巨大岩石。而顷刻间，他已经站直盯着那碎石的坚固表层。 　　‘罗恩！“他吼道。”你没事吧？罗恩！”“我在这！“巨石后隐约传出了罗恩低沉的声音。”我没事，可这个家伙——他被魔杖烧到了。” 　　这时，突然传来沉闷的重击声和“嗷！”的一声痛呼，听起来像是罗恩踢中了罗克哈特的肋骨。 　　“现在怎么办？”罗恩绝望地说，“我们过不去。这得花很长……” 　　哈利抬头看着天花板，上面露出了一道巨大袭缝。他可从来都没用魔法击散过像眼前这些那么大的岩石，看起来，现在也不是试一试的好时机——万一整个地下道崩塌就糟了！ 　　巨石后又是一声重击和“嗷”的一声。他们在浪费时间，金妮待在神秘秘室已经数小时了。哈利知道只好孤注一掷了。 　　“在这等着，”他朝罗恩喊，“跟罗克哈特等着
Chapter 17 The Heir Of Slytherin
He was standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was Ginny?
He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.
Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.
Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.
“Ginny!” Harry muttered, sprinting to her and dropping to his knees. “Ginny - don't be dead - please don't be dead -” He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't Petrified. But then she must be…
“Ginny, please wake up,” Harry muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.
“She won't wake,” said a soft voice.
Harry jumped and spun around on his knees.
A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window. But there was no mistaking him.
“Tom - Tom Riddle?”
Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face.
“What d'you mean, she won't wake?” Harry said desperately. “She's not - she's not -?”
“She's still alive,” said Riddle. “But only just.”
Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen.
“Are you a ghost?” Harry said uncertainly.
“A memory,” said Riddle quietly. “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.”
He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Harry had found in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there - but there were more pressing matters to deal with.
“You've got to help me, Tom,” Harry said, raising Ginny's head again. “We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk… I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment… Please, help me.”
Riddle didn't move. Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again.
But his wand had gone.
“Did you see -?”
He looked up. Riddle was still watching him - twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers.
“Thanks,” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it.
A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. He continued to stare at Harry, twirling the wand idly.
“Listen,” said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny's dead weight. “We've got to go! If the basilisk comes—”
“It won't come until it is called,” said Riddle calmly.
Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer.
“What d'you mean?” he said. “Look, give me my wand, I might need it—”
Riddle's smile broadened.
“You won't be needing it,” he said.
Harry stared at him.
“What d'you mean, I won't be -?”
“I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter,” said Riddle. “For the chance to see you. To speak to you.”
“Look,” said Harry, losing patience, “I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later—”
“We're going to talk now,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand.
Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here …
“How did Ginny get like this?” he asked slowly.
“Well, that's an interesting question,” said Riddle pleasantly. “And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.”
“What are you talking about?” said Harry.
“The diary,” said Riddle. `My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how -” Riddle's eyes glinted “- how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…”
All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.
“It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl,” he went on. “But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom… I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in… It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket …”
Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.
“If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted… I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…”
“What d'you mean?” said Harry, whose mouth had gone very dry.
“Haven't you guessed yet, Harry Potter?” said Riddle softly. “Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on four Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat.”
“No,” Harry whispered.
“Yes,” said Riddle, calmly. “Of course, she didn't know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… far more interesting, they became… Dear Tom,” he recited, watching Harry's horrified face, `I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and 1 don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, l can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself. I think he suspects me… There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad… I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!”
Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms.
“It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary,” said Riddle. “But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that's where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…”
“And why did you want to meet me?” said Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.
“Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry,” said Riddle. “Your whole fascinating history.” His eyes roved over the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and their expression grew hungrier. “I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust—”
“Hagrid's my friend,” said Harry, his voice now shaking. “And you framed him, didn't you? I thought you made a mistake, but—”
Riddle laughed his high laugh again.
“It was my word against Hagrid's, Harry. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student… on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls… but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance… as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power!
“Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippetto keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed… Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did …”
“I bet Dumbledore saw right through you,” said Harry, his teeth gritted.
“Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled,” said Riddle carelessly. “I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work.”
“Well, you haven't finished it,” said Harry triumphantly. “No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again—”
“Haven't I already told you,” said Riddle quietly, “that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been - you.”
Harry stared at him.
“Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who'd been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue …
“So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn't much life left in her… She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last… I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter.”
“Like what?” Harry spat, fists still clenched.
“Well,” said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, “how is it that you - a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent - managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?”
There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.
“Why do you care how I escaped?” said Harry slowly. “Voldemort was after your time…”
“Voldemort,” said Riddle softly, “is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter…”
He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:
TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE
Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:
I AM LORD VOLDEMORT
“You see?” he whispered. “It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother's side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry - I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!”
Harry's brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry's own parents, and so many others… At last he forced himself to speak.
“You're not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred.
“Not what?” snapped Riddle.
“Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn't dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you're hiding these days—”
The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.
“Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed.
“He's not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true.
Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.
Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.
A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle.
A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Harry looked up and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye.
The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.
“That's a phoenix.” said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.
“Fawkes?” Harry breathed, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently.
“And that -” said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, “that's the old school Sorting Hat—”
So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry's feet.
Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once.
“This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?”
Harry didn't answer. He might not see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but he was no longer alone, and he waited for Riddle to stop laughing with his courage mounting.
“To business, Harry,” said Riddle, still smiling broadly. “Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk,” he added softly, “the longer you stay alive.”
Harry was thinking fast, weighing his chances. Riddle had the wand. He, Harry, had Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, neither of which would be much good in a duel. It looked bad, all right… but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny… and in the meantime, Harry noticed suddenly, Riddle's outline was becoming clearer, more solid… If it had to be a fight between him and Riddle, better sooner than later.
“No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me,” said Harry abruptly. “I don't know myself. But I know why you couldn't kill me. Because my mother died to save me. My common Muggle-born mother,” he added, shaking with suppressed rage. “She stopped you killing me. And I've seen the real you, I saw you last year. You're a wreck. You're barely alive. That's where all your power got you. You're in hiding. You're ugly, you're foul—”
Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. “So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now… there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself We even look something alike… but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know.”
Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.
“Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him…”
He cast an amused eye over Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, then walked away. Harry, fear spreading up his numb legs, watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed - but Harry understood what he was saying …
“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”
Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.
Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole.
And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.
Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and as he shut his eyes tight he felt Fawkes'wing sweep his cheek as he took flight. Harry wanted to shout, “Don't leave me!” but what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents?
Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder - he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth. Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice:
“Kill him.”
The basilisk was moving toward Harry; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run blindly sideways, his hands outstretched, feeling his way - Voldemort was laughing.
Harry tripped. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood the serpent was barely feet from him, he could hear it coming.
There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars.
He couldn't help it - he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.
The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake.
Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned - Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.
“NO!” Harry heard Riddle screaming. “LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM. KILL HIM!”
The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.
“Help me, help me,” Harry muttered wildly, “someone - anyone…”
The snake's tail whipped across the floor again. Harry ducked. Something soft hit his face.
The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. Harry seized it. It was all he had left, his only chance - he rammed it onto his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the basilisk's tail swung over him again.
Help me - help me - Harry thought, his eyes screwed tight under the hat. Please help me .
There was no answering voice. Instead, the hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly.
Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of Harry's head, almost knocking him out. Stars winking in front of his eyes, he grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it.
A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.
“KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. SNIFF - SMELL HIM.”
Harry was on his feet, ready. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow him whole, lined with fangs long as his sword, thin, glittering, venomous—
It lunged blindly - Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and its forked tongue lashed Harry's side. He raised the sword in both his hands—
The basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was true - Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth—
But as warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor.
Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull color.
A patch of scarlet swam past, and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him.
“Fawkes,” said Harry thickly. “You were fantastic, Fawkes…”
He felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him.
He could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.
“You're dead, Harry Potter,” said Riddle's voice above him. “Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying.”
Harry blinked. Fawke's head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.
“I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry.”
Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.
“So ends the famous Harry Potter,” said Riddle's distant voice. “Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry… She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…”
If this is dying, thought Harry, it's not so bad.
Even the pain was leaving him…
But was this dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. Harry gave his head a little shake and there was Fawkes, still resting his head on Harry's arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound - except that there was no wound.
“Get away, bird,” said Riddle's voice suddenly. “Get away from him - I said, get away—”
Harry raised his head. Riddle was pointing Harry's wand at Fawkes; there was a bang like a gun, and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.
“Phoenix tears…” said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. “Of course… healing powers… I forgot…”
He looked into Harry's face. “But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter… you and me…”
He raised the wand …
Then, in a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap - the diary.
For a split second, both Harry and Riddle, wand still raised, stared at it. Then, without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Harry seized the basilisk fang on the floor next to him and plunged it straight into the heart of the book.
There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then—
He had gone. Harry's wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it.
Shaking all over, Harry pulled himself up. His head was spinning as though he'd just traveled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand and the Sorting Hat, and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the roof of the basilisk's mouth.
Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Ginny was stirring. As Harry hurried toward her, she sat up. Her bemused eyes traveled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Harry, in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.
“Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy - it was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d-didn't mean to - R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary—”
“It's all right,” said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole, “Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here—”
“I'm going to be expelled!” Ginny wept as Harry helped her awkwardly to her feet. “I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I'll have to leave and - w-what'll Mum and Dad say?”
Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance. Harry urged Ginny forward; they stepped over the motionless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.
After a few minutes'progress up the dark tunnel, a distant sound of slowly shifting rock reached Harry's ears.
“Ron!” Harry yelled, speeding up. “Ginny's okay! I've got her!”
He heard Ron give a strangled cheer, and they turned the next bend to see his eager face staring through the sizable gap he had managed to make in the rock fall.
“Ginny!” Ron thrust an arm through the gap in the rock to pull her through first. “You're alive! I don't believe it! What happened?” How - what - where did that bird come from?”
Fawkes had swooped through the gap after Ginny.
“He's Dumbledore's,” said Harry, squeezing through himself.
“How come you've got a sword?” said Ron, gaping at the glittering weapon in Harry's hand.
“I'll explain when we get out of here,” said Harry with a sideways glance at Ginny, who was crying harder than ever.
“But—”
“Later,” Harry said shortly. He didn't think it was a good idea to tell Ron yet who'd been opening the Chamber, not in front of Ginny, anyway. “Where's Lockhart?”
“Back there,” said Ron, still looking puzzled but jerking his head up the tunnel toward the pipe. “He's in a bad way. Come and see.”
Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe. Gilderoy Lockhart was sitting there, humming placidly to himself.
“His memory's gone,” said Ron. “The Memory Charm backfired. Hit him instead of us. Hasn't got a clue who he is, or where he is, or who we are. I told him to come and wait here. He's a danger to himself.”
Lockhart peered good-naturedly up at them all.
“Hello,” he said. “Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?”
“No,” said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry.
Harry bent down and looked up the long, dark pipe.
“Have you thought how we're going to get back up this?” he said to Ron.
Ron shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix had swooped past Harry and was now fluttering in front of him, his beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked uncertainly at him.
“He looks like he wants you to grab hold…” said Ron, looking perplexed. “But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there—”
“Fawkes,” said Harry, “isn't an ordinary bird.” He turned quickly to the others. “We've got to hold on to each other. Ginny, grab Ron's hand. Professor Lockhart—”
“He means you,” said Ron sharply to Lockhart.
“You hold Ginny's other hand—”
Harry tucked the sword and the Sorting Hat into his belt, Ron took hold of the back of Harry's robes, and Harry reached out and took hold of Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers.
An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. Harry could hear Lockhart dangling below him, saying, “Amazing! Amazing! This is just like magic!” The chill air was whipping through Harry's hair, and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over - all four of them were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and as Lockhart straightened his hat, the sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.
Myrtle goggled at them.
“You're alive,” she said blankly to Harry.
“There's no need to sound so disappointed,” he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses.
“Oh, well… I'd just been thinking… if you had died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet,” said Myrtle, blushing silver.
“Urgh!” said Ron as they left the bathroom for the dark, deserted corridor outside. “Harry! I think Myrtle's grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!”
But tears were still flooding silently down Ginny's face.
“Where now?” said Ron, with an anxious look at Ginny. Harry pointed.
Fawkes was leading the way, glowing gold along the corridor. They strode after him, and moments later, found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.
Harry knocked and pushed the door open.他站在一间石室的末端。石室相当大，光线昏暗。高耸的石柱上缠绕着更多的石雕巨蟒，一直上升，消失在黑暗中的天花板。 
　　哈利站立着，听着那令人发寒的沉寂，心跳飞快，巴斯里斯克潜藏在柱子后那阴暗的角落里吗？金妮在哪里？ 
　　他拉出魔杖，在雕刻着蟒蛇的柱子间慢慢前进，每一步声都在墙间引起回响。 
　　他还是眯着双眼，随时准备着一有动静就闭上眼睛。那些石蛇空洞的眼窝似乎总在侦察着他的一举一动。腹部的一下抽动，都会让他认为有什么动静。 
　　当他脑到最后一对杜子时，一座与石室等高的雕塑跳入他的视线。雕塑紧靠后墙耸立。 
　　哈利得伸长脖子才能看到上面那张巨大的脸：它已经相当古老了，像是猴子，稀稀疏疏的长胡须直垂到及地石袍底，两条灰色的腿站立在石室光滑的地板上。而两腿间，躺着一位身材瘦小、火红发、黑衣，脸朝下的人。 
　　“金妮！”哈利低沉地喊着，朝她冲去，跪在旁边。“金妮！你别死啊！求你别死！”他把魔杖扔在一旁，扶着金妮的肩膀，把她转过身来。她的脸就如大理石一般苍白、冰冷，但她是闭着眼睛的，她没有变成石头人，但是，她肯定是…… 
　　“金妮，求你醒醒。”哈利绝望地低呼着，不断地摇着她，金妮的脑袋却只是毫无希望地晃来晃去。 
　　“她不会醒的。”一个温柔的声音传来。 
　　哈利吓了一跳，转身一看。 
　　一位身材高大，黑发的男孩正斜倚在最近的一根柱子上看着他。他看起来异常模糊，就像哈利是透过毛玻璃看他的一样。但依然可以辨认。 
　　“瑞——瑞德？” 
　　瑞德点点头，依旧盯着哈利的脸。 
　　“你这是什么意思，她不会醒？”哈利绝望地问。“她没——她没——？” 
　　“她还活着，”瑞德说，“但也仅此而已。” 
　　哈利注视着他，五十年前瑞德就已经离开了霍格瓦彻了，但现在他站在这里，奇妙，朦胧的光笼罩着他，绝不大于十六岁的样子。 
　　“你是鬼魂？”哈利不确定地问。 
　　“是记忆，”瑞德平静地说着，“存在日记里已经五十年了。” 
　　他指着雕像脚趾头旁边的地板，那里放着已打开的正是哈利在麦托勒浴室里找到的那本黑色的小日记本。哈利想知道它怎么会到了这里——但，还有更紧迫的问题要处理呢！ 
　　“你来帮我吗，瑞德？”哈利托起金妮的脑袋，“我们得把她带走，这里有巴斯里斯克……我不清楚它在哪里，但它随时会来的。 
　　来，帮一下忙……“瑞德没动，哈利冒着汗，试着把她从地上扶起来，然后又弯下腰去捡他的魔杖。 
　　但魔杖不见了。 
　　“你有没有看到——？” 
　　他抬起头，瑞德依然望着他——哈利的魔杖在他修长的指间旋转着。 
　　“谢谢。”哈利伸手去拿。 
　　一丝微笑浮上了瑞德的嘴角。他继续凝视着哈利，悠闲的转着魔杖。 
　　“听着，”哈利急切地喊，两膝被金妮压得往下沉。“我们得走了！万一巴斯里斯克来了……” 
　　“除非有人唤它，否则，它不会来的。”瑞德平静地说道。 
　　哈利把金妮重新放回地面，他无法这样扶着她了。 
　　“你是什么意思？来，把魔杖还给我，我可能用得着。” 
　　瑞德的嘴咧得更宽了。 
　　“你用不着它了。”他笑着。 
　　哈利瞪着他。 
　　“你说什么？我用不着——？” 
　　“哈利。波特，我等这一天已经等了很久了。”瑞德说着，“等着与你相见的机会，与你交谈。” 
　　“瞧，”哈利失去耐性了，“我想你还是不明白。我们是在神秘秘室里。我们以后再谈。” 
　　“我们现在就谈，”瑞德笑容扯得更宽了，他把哈利的魔杖放入衣袋。 
　　哈利注视着他，事情有些古怪。 
　　“金妮怎么会变成这样的？”他缓慢地问。 
　　“呃，这个问题相当有趣，”瑞德开心地说，“说来话长，我想金妮。威斯里变成这样的真正原因是她向隐形的陌生人敞开心扉，把她所有的秘密都泄露出来。” 
　　“你在说些什么？”哈利不解。 
　　“那本日记，”瑞德继续。“我的日记，小金妮一直在上面写日记，告诉我她所有可怜的担忧和悲哀：她的哥哥们怎样取笑她，她怎样带着二手的长袍和书来学校，她怎样——”瑞德的眼眸灼灼生辉，“她怎样认为著名、美好、伟大的哈利。 
　　波特不会喜欢她……” 
　　他说话时，视线一直未离哈利的脸，眼中隐含某种渴望。 
　　“闷极了，不得不听着十一岁女孩那愚蠢可笑的小烦恼。”他继续说着，“但我非常耐心，我写回信给她，我富有同情心，心地善良，金妮单纯地爱我。‘没人能像你一样了解我，瑞德……我真高兴我可以在日记里透露心声……这就是我有一位可以随身携带的朋友……” 
　　瑞德放声大笑起来，笑声高亢、冷酷。哈利脖子后的汗毛都竖起来了。 
　　“要我说我自己，哈利，我总是可以迷倒我所要的人，因此，金妮把她的灵魂都给了我，而她的灵魂恰好是我要的。以她最深处的恐惧，最黑暗的秘密为食粮，我的力量越来越强，我变得比小威斯里小姐强大有力多了，强大到我也可以喂给威斯里小姐一些我的秘密，给她一点我的灵魂力量……” 
　　“你的意思是？”哈利的嘴巴变得十分干燥。 
　　“你还没有猜到吗？哈利。波特？”瑞德温柔地说，“金妮。威斯里打开了神秘之堂，是她勒死了学校的公鸡，在墙上涂写威胁性信息。是她把史林德林之蟒引到那四个人中去的，还有猫。” 
　　“不。”哈利低语。 
　　“是的，”瑞德平静地说道。“当然了，最初，她并不知道自己干了些什么。 
　　真是搞笑。我希望你可以读读她新写的日记……有趣多了……‘亲爱的瑞德’，” 
　　他复述，一边看着哈利恐惧的脸，“‘我想我的记忆正在衰退，我的长袍上沾满了鸡毛，我不知道它们是从哪来的，亲爱的瑞德，我不记得万圣节晚上我干了些什么，有一只猫被袭击了，而我的衣服前襟沾满了颜料，瑞德。伯希一直说我脸色苍白，还说我不是我自己了。我想他是在怀疑我……今天又有一起袭击事件发生，我还是记不起我去过哪里，瑞德，我该怎么办？ 
　　我快疯掉了……我想我就是袭击大家的那个人，瑞德！“‘哈利紧握拳头，指甲深深陷入掌心。 
　　“小傻金妮花了好长一段时间才不再信任她的日记，”瑞德说，“但她最终还是开始怀疑并要扔掉它了，哈利，就在那时你加入了，你发现了它，对此我再高兴不过了。在所有可能捡这本日记的人，只有你，是我最渴望见到的……” 
　　“为什么你要见我？”哈利愤怒极了，他得抑制自己才能保持声音稳定。 
　　“呃，金妮把你的一切都告诉了我，哈利。关于你神奇的历史。”他的眼光在哈利额头的闪电状的疤痕上掠过，他的表情越发显得急切了，“我知道我必须了解你多一些，与你交谈，会面。所以我决定告诉你我是如何抓到那个白痴，哈格力，来换取你的信任。” 
　　“哈格力是我的朋友。”哈利的声音颤抖着，“是你出卖他，不是吗？我还以为你不知道自己怪错人，但——” 
　　瑞德再次放声大笑。 
　　“哈利，是我说哈格力坏话的。你可以想象老皮达是怎样想的，一方面是汤姆。 
　　瑞德，贫穷但才华横溢，无父无母但胆识过人，是全校最优秀的模范生；而另一方面，则是四肢发达，粗鲁笨拙的哈格力，每隔一星期就惹一次麻烦，企图在床底养小狼人，溜到禁林去跟洞穴巨人角斗。不过，我得承认，连我也惊讶计划进行得这么完美。我想，肯定会有人意识到哈格力不可能是史林德林的后代的。我花了整整五年的时间尽可能地发掘有关神秘之室的一切信息和找出秘密人口……即使哈格力有头脑，或有能力也没用！” 
　　“只有当时变形学丹伯多教授，才认为哈格力是无辜的。他说服皮达收留哈格力，训练他做猎物看守人，我想丹伯多可能猜到了什么，丹伯多从来没有像其他老师那样喜欢我……” 
　　“我打赌丹伯多一眼就看穿你了。”哈利恨得咬牙切齿。 
　　“呃，自从哈格力被逐后，他一直相当烦人地紧密观察我，”瑞德漫不经心地说，“我清楚我还在校的时候再开启神秘之屋不安全。 
　　但我不想让我一直为寻找它而花费几年的功夫白白浪费掉。我决定留下一本日记，把十六岁的自己保存在里面，这样，若好运的话，我可以把别人引来步我后尘，然后完成撒拉沙。史林德林那崇高的使命。”“你没法实现了，“哈利带着嘲笑的口吻说道。”这次一个人也没死，连猫也死不了，几个小时后万锐克，就准备好了，他们又会活过来的。” 
　　“我没告诉你吗？”瑞德满不在乎地说，“杀不杀人对我来说都已经无关紧要的？现在我的新目标就是——你！” 
　　哈利盯着他。 
　　“当我的日记再次被打开时，我气得快疯掉了，是金妮而不是你写给我，她看到你拿着那本笔记本。她害怕极了，万一你知道了怎样使用那本日记，而我把她的秘密泄露给你，或者，更糟糕的是，我告诉你是她勒死了公鸡。所以，那个笨蛋一直等到你宿舍没人，就把它偷了出来。但我知道我该干什么，很明显，你将成为史林德林的传人，我知道，你无论如何，也会想办法解出谜团的——特别是你最好的朋友遇袭，金妮还告诉我你会蛇语，你听到学校里那把古怪的声音……” 
　　“所以我要金妮把她的遗言留在墙上，下来这里等。她又哭又闹，讨厌透了，不过，反正她也没多少精力了；她把太多都给了日记，给了我。足够让我最终脱离日记，从那时起，我就一直在等你出现。我知道你会来的，我有很多问题要问你呢，哈利。波特。 
　　“什么？”哈利挤出两人字，仍然紧握着拳头。 
　　瑞德开心地笑了：“毫无超常魔法天赋的婴儿是怎样打败最伟大的巫师的？你怎么可以除了一道疤之外几乎秋毫无损，而福尔得摩特的力量却被彻底毁灭呢？” 
　　他饥渴的眼睛发出怪异的一线红光。 
　　“你这么关心我如何逃脱是什么原因？”哈利慢吞吞地说道，“福尔得摩特是你之后那时代的。” 
　　“福尔得摩特，”瑞德温柔地说着，“是我的过去、现在和未来，哈利。波特……” 
　　他从袋中掏出哈利的魔杖，随之腾空而飞，在空中写下三个闪烁生辉的字：汤姆。马沃罗。瑞德接着，他再次挥动魔杖，空中的字母重新排列，变成了：我是福尔得摩特大师“明白了吗？”他低声说，“在霍格瓦斯特的时候我已经在用这个名字了，当然，只有我的知心朋友才知道。” 
　　“你认为，我会使用我那肮脏、庸俗的父亲的姓一辈子吗？我血脉中流的就是从我母亲身上继承而来的，撒拉沙。史林德林本人的血。我会保留那因为妻子是女巫，就抛妻弃子的家伙的姓吗？哈利，不，我为自己另取他名，等有一天我成为世上最伟大的巫师时，四方巫师都将闻风丧胆！” 
　　哈利只觉得大脑似乎阻塞了，他愣愣地盯着瑞德，这个曾害死哈利亲生父母，以及许许多多其他人的孤儿……终于，他迫使自己开口。 
　　“你不是。”他的声音充满了仇恨。 
　　“不是什么？”瑞德急问。 
　　“不是世上最伟大的巫师。”哈利呼吸加速，“抱歉让你失望，但是，世上最伟大的巫师是丹伯多。这是众所周知的，即使现在你力量无穷，你也不敢到霍格瓦彻为所欲为，丹伯多早就看穿了你，而且你现在还怕他，所以你才一直躲在这里。” 
　　笑容从瑞德脸上褪去，转而浮上的是满脸怒容。 
　　“据我所知，丹伯多已经被驱逐出城堡了！”他嘘道。 
　　“可他并没有远离城堡！”哈利信口开河地宣称，希望借此能吓退瑞德。 
　　瑞德张口欲言，但立即便呆住了。 
　　远处传来阵阵乐声，瑞德转着身，侦查着空荡荡的石室，乐声越来越响，阴森森，令人毛骨惊然，神秘而怪异。哈利先是觉得四体生寒，毛发竖立，而随着音调达到巅峰。哈利仿佛觉得乐声在肋骨间颤动着，近处的石柱项开始火焰迸射。 
　　这时，眼前飞来了一只火红，天鹅般大的鸟儿，它吟唱着奇妙的音韵，飞上穹顶，它那如孔雀船长长的金属巴，闪烁着华丽灿烂的光辉，而它那金色双爪，紧抓着一块布。 
　　接着，鸟儿朝着哈利飞去，它把爪中的布放在哈利脚边，然后在他肩膀上停了下来，当它收起双翼，哈利抬头，只见它那金喙既长又尖，黑溜溜的眼睛，如珠子般晶亮。 
　　鸟儿停止了吟唱。 
　　紧挨着哈利的面颊而坐，温暖而安详，它定定地凝视着瑞德。 
　　“达摩克？！”瑞德再一次仔细地审视着它。 
　　“达摩克？”哈利深吸一口气，他可以感觉到鸟儿的金爪轻轻地抓紧地的肩膀。 
　　“那——”瑞德现在正查看着达摩克放下的破布包，“那是分类帽。” 
　　没错，那顶脏兮兮，带些破损和补丁的分类帽就放在哈利脚下。 
　　瑞德又笑了起来，他的笑声在，漆黑的石室内回响着，宛若是十个瑞德同时发笑一般。 
　　“这些就是丹伯多给你的护身符吗？一只鸟和一顶破帽！哈利。 
　　波特，你是不是觉得勇气倍增呢？有没有觉得安全点了？” 
　　哈利没有应他，虽然他不清楚达摩克和分类帽有什么用，但至少他不再孤身一人，他以无比的勇气等着瑞德停止大笑。 
　　“言归正传，哈利。”瑞德依然咧着嘴笑着，“我们已经交手两次了——你的过去，我的未来。而两次我都没能杀掉你。你怎么可以做到的？告诉我吧。你谈得越久，”他温柔地加上一句，“你就活得越久。” 
　　哈利脑筋转得飞快，他在衡量着自己的机会。瑞德有魔杖；他，哈利，则有达摩克和分类帽，但交起手来，两样东西用处都不大，看来情况糟透了。但是，瑞德待在那儿越久，金妮的精力就会损耗越多……并且，哈利忽然注意到，瑞德的轮廊变得越来越清晰，越来越牢固了。要是不得不动手的话，越早越有利。 
　　“没有人知道，为什么你一击向我便开始丧失能量，”哈利突然说道。“我也不知道。但知道为什么你不能置我于死地。因为，是我母亲用生命挽救了我，我那马格人血统母亲。”他又说道，激动得使他颤抖不已。“是她阻止了你。我看过你的真面目，去年我有看过你，你只是一堆残骸，你现在也只是在苟延残喘而已。这就是你的力量给你带来的恶果，你现在还不得不躲躲藏藏的，你这个丑恶又卑劣的家伙。” 
　　瑞德气得脸庞扭曲成一团，可接着他又极力挤出一个难看的笑容。 
　　“那么，是你的母亲舍身救子，对这可是最有效的护身符，我明白了——你根本没什么特别之处，我之所以想知道，是因为我们之间惊人的相似，哈利。波特，你也肯定注意到了，我们都是混血种的，又是孤儿，都由马格人抚养长大，可能也是自史林德林以来唯一两个在霍格瓦斯彻懂蛇语的人，我们甚至样子也相像……不管怎样，你只是运气好，才会从我手中逃生的。我想知道的就是这个。” 
　　哈利站着，神经绷得紧紧的，等着瑞德举起魔杖，但瑞德扭曲的笑容又咧开了。 
　　“哈利，我要给你个小教训，就让福尔得摩特——撒拉沙。史林德林的传人领教一下著名的哈利。波特和丹伯多给他的最棒的武器。” 
　　他用好奇的眼光掠过达摩克和分类帽，走开了。哈利只觉得恐惧从他麻木的双腿起迅速遍及全身。他看着瑞德在高耸的石柱间停下，仰视着史林德林的石雕脸庞，瑞德张嘴发出嘶嘶的声音——但哈利知道他在说什么。 
　　“说吧，史林德林，霍格瓦彻至尊。” 
　　哈利转身仰视雕像，达摩克开始在他肩膀上摇晃起来。 
　　史林德林石雕巨脸开始移动，哈利只见史林德林的嘴巴越张越宽，现出了一个巨大的黑洞。 
　　雕像四中似乎有东西在里面翻滚，从底层深处直朝上滑行。 
　　哈利连连后退，直至撞上漆黑的石室墙，哈利紧闭双眼，而达摩克也开始起飞，羽翼轻拂他的面颊，哈利想大喊：“别离开我！” 
　　但达摩克怎么可能战胜巨蟒之王呢？ 
　　地面在震动，似乎是有重物走在了石室地板上，哈利知道发生了什么事。他可以感觉到，巨蟒在史林德林口中伸直蜷缩的身躯，接着，又是瑞德的嘶嘶声：“杀了他。” 
　　巴斯里斯克朝着哈利袭来，沉重的蛇身在积满尘埃的地板滑动着。闭着眼，哈利开始盲目地朝一侧逃去。他伸出手，摸索着，瑞德的笑声异常刺耳…… 
　　哈利绊倒了，重重地跌在石板上，巨蟒已经离他只有几尺远了。他可以听到它正向前游来，随着上方一声爆炸般的吐声，一件东西重重击了哈利一记，把他紧压在墙上。当他正等巨蟒向他咬来时，只听到更疯狂的嘶嘶声和猛撞石柱的击声传来。 
　　他实在受不了了，哈利张开眼睛，窥视着四周的情形。 
　　巨蛇蛇身泛着丑恶的绿光，如橡树干般粗，高举在空中，巨大沉重的蛇头正如醉酒般地在石柱间穿梭。哈利浑身颤抖着，正要闭上眼睛，却又只见——达摩克正绕着蛇头飞翔，而巴斯里斯克则愤怒地朝它一口咬去，蛇信就如军刀一般又长、又薄。 
　　达摩克往下俯冲，随着它那长长的金喙插入蛇头，一股黑血洒落在地面，蛇尾开始猛烈鞭打起来，几乎击中哈利，而哈利还来不及闭上眼睛，它转了过来，哈利看到了它的脸，和它的眼睛，两只巨大明亮的黄眼，都已经被达摩克刺破了，血液不断涌出，流向地面，巨蟒痛苦地喘着气。 
　　“不！”哈利听到瑞德歇斯底里的尖叫着，“别管那只鸟！别管那只鸟！那个男孩就在你后面！你可以咬到！杀了他！” 
　　失去了眼睛的巨蟒摇晃着，迷迷糊糊的，但依然足以致命。达摩克在蛇头周围盘旋着，吟唱起它那令人毛骨惊然的歌曲，朝着巨蛇鳞覆盖的蛇鼻进攻。 
　　“救命，救命。”哈利疯狂地咕浓着，“快来人啊！” 
　　蛇尾再次开始鞭打地板，哈利毫无反抗之力，这时，一件软软的东西击中了他的脸。 
　　巴斯里斯克把分类帽扫到了哈利的脸上，掉入了手臂，哈利一把抓住，这是他唯一的机会了，他把帽子胡乱戴在头上，连忙紧贴地面，躲过巴斯里斯克的尾鞭重击。 
　　“救命……救命……”哈利想着，双眼紧盯帽底：“助我一臂之力！” 
　　就在这里，帽子开始紧缩起来，就像是有一只无形的手紧紧扭着它一般。 
　　一件又硬又重的东西落在哈利头顶上几乎把他击得眼冒金星。 
　　快昏厥过去。他赶紧拉下帽子。帽子里的是一把闪着银光的剑。剑柄上镶有鸡蛋大小的红宝石。 
　　“杀了他！别去管那臭鸟！那男孩就在你身后！” 
　　哈利一跃而起，蓄势待发，巴斯里斯克开始蟋曲身躯，扭曲着朝哈利袭来，不时猛击着石柱。哈利可以清楚看见那血淋淋的巨大眼睛和它那血盆大口，蛇口张得异常大，足可以把人整个吞进去，里面的信子正如他手中的剑一般长短，闪着毒光…… 
　　巴斯里斯克盲目地向前袭来，哈利急忙躲开，它击在石室墙上，当它再次袭来时，蛇信近乎已舔到哈利脸颊，哈利以双手举起剑…… 
　　当巴斯里斯克再一次击来，哈利用尽全力刺向巨蟒舌根深处。 
　　在炽热的鲜血喷射在哈利手臂的同时，哈利只觉一阵灼热的刺痛直从手叶上传来，长长的蛇信在他的手臂上越咬越深，而当巴斯里斯克痉挛着，扭曲着坠落在地时，蛇信“啪”的一声在蛇口中断裂。 
　　哈利靠着墙，一直下滑，他紧抓着已经把毒素注入全身的蛇信，用力拔出，但一切都已太迟了，炽热的疼痛从伤口处缓慢地蔓延到全身，当他把蛇信掷落在地时，他的视线开始模糊，眼前的石室飞快地转动着。 
　　一片火红飘过，落在哈利身旁，紧跟着是一阵轻轻的“噼啪”声。 
　　“达摩克，”哈利语音混浊地说着，“你太聪明了，达摩克……” 
　　他感觉到鸟儿正把美丽的头倚在他的伤口上。 
　　他听着脚步声在墙上壁回响着，眼前掠过一片黑色的阴影。 
　　“你就快死了，哈利。波特。”上方响起了瑞德的声音，“快死了，就算是丹伯多的鸟也知道，你有看到它在干什么吗？波特？它居然在哭。” 
　　哈利眨眨眼，达摩克的脑袋一会进入，一会又滑出哈利的视线，一滴滴珍珠般的泪水在它光滑的羽毛中滑落。 
　　“我要坐在这看着你死，哈利。波特，你别着急，我不赶时间。” 
　　哈利昏昏欲睡，身边的一切似乎都在旋转。 
　　“闻名的哈利。波特就这样结束一生了。”瑞德的声音显得那样遥远。“孤孤单单，为朋友所弃。不自量力挑战黑睛巫师，却最终被击败了，你很快就会回到母亲身边了，哈利……她给你借了十二年的时间……但福尔得摩特最后还是了结了你，你也知道他必须这样。” 
　　哈利想着死亡也不怎么糟糕啊，甚至疼痛也开始消失了…… 
　　但，这是死亡吗？眼前并没有一片漆黑，石室似乎不再打转了。哈利摇摇头，旁边是达摩克，依然把脑袋靠在哈利的手臂上，伤口处缀满了珍珠般晶莹的泪水——只是，伤口已经消失了。 
　　“走开，臭鸟。”瑞德忽然喊道，“滚开！” 
　　哈利抬起头，瑞德把魔杖指向达摩克。随着“啪”的一声，达摩克再次起飞，宛若一团火红金黄的旋转光圈。 
　　“达摩克的眼泪……”瑞德平静地说，盯着哈利的手臂，“当然……治疗功能……我居然忘记……” 
　　他看着哈利的脸，“但这又怎样呢？事实上，这样更好，只有你和我，哈利。波特……你和我……” 
　　他举起魔杖。 
　　这时，达摩克振翅疾飞而来，盘旋在哈利上方，一件东西坠入哈利膝间——日记。 
　　哈利和瑞德（依然举着魔杖）同时望着日记，接着，哈利不加思索地就像他一直就有这个念头一样，抓起巴斯里斯克的信子，直接刺入日记中去。 
　　随着一声绵长，痛苦，疯狂的尖叫，日记中的笔墨喷射而出，湍流如注，溢满哈利的双手，又流向地板，瑞德蠕动着，扭曲着，尖叫着，痉挛着，接着…… 
　　他死了，哈利的魔杖“钦骼”一声坠落到地板上。四周一片沉寂，只剩下不断从日记涌出墨水的滴水声，毒液在日记上烧穿了一个洞。 
　　哈利勉强站了起来，浑身颤抖着，他晕眩得就如刚刚坐火箭绕行了数公里。他慢吞吞地收起魔杖和帽子，再用尽全力把闪着冷辉的剑从巴斯里斯克舌根拔出。 
　　石室深处传来一阵微弱的呻吟声，金妮动了，当哈利赶紧上前时，她已坐了起来，她迷惑的视线从巴斯里斯克的死尸，转到满身都是鲜血的哈利，再转到他手里的日记，她忽然深喘一口气，眼泪“刷”地流了下来。 
　　“哈利——哦，哈利——我本想在吃早餐时告诉你的，但我不能在怕希面前说出来，是我干的，哈利——但是，我——我发誓我不是故意的——瑞德控制了我，你怎么杀死那——那个东西的？瑞德在哪？我记得的最后一件事就是他从日记里走了——” 
　　“没事了，”哈利说，举起日记，把毒液烧成的洞指给金妮看，“瑞德完蛋了，瞧！他和巴斯里斯克，来吧，金妮，我们离开这里——” 
　　“我会被驱逐出校的！”当哈利笨手笨脚地把金妮从地上扶起来时，她哭泣着说，“自从比尔来上学以后，我就一直想象我也在霍格彻上学，但是，现在，我不得不离开了——爸爸妈妈会怎么说呀？” 
　　达摩克在石室人口盘旋着，等着他们，哈利催着金妮快走。他们跨过蜷缩成一团的巴斯里斯克死尸，回到地下道，哈利听到随着一声轻嘶，身后的石门关上了。 
　　在黑暗的地下道中走了数十分钟后，远方隐隐传来搬动石块的响声。 
　　“罗恩！”哈利大喊着，加快了速度。“金妮没事！我找到她了！” 
　　他听到罗恩发出一声欢呼。当他们转到下一个拐弯处，只见罗恩正透过他搬出的一道豁口中急切地看着。 
　　“金妮！”罗恩从岩石豁口中伸出一只手，先把她拉了过去，“你还活着！难以置信！发生什么事了？” 
　　“但你现在没事了，金妮，”罗恩兴高采烈地看着她，“一切都过去了，这是——这只鸟哪来的？” 
　　达摩克是跟着金妮飞过豁口的。 
　　“是丹伯多的鸟。”哈利自己挤了过来。 
　　“还有，你怎么得到这柄剑的？”罗恩目瞪口呆地看着哈利手里的武器。 
　　“出去以后再解释吧。”哈利斜眼望了望金妮。 
　　“但是——” 
　　“以后——”哈利立即说道，他可不认为告诉罗恩是谁打开石室是个好主意，至少，不能在金妮面前说。“罗克哈特在哪？” 
　　“那里，”罗恩咧嘴笑着，朝管道出口的方向晃了晃头，“他情况不妙，去看看吧。” 
　　由达摩克在前面带路，宽大的火红双翼散发着柔和的金色光辉，他们回到管道入口。罗克哈特坐在地上，安详地低声哼唱着。 
　　“他失记了。”罗恩说，“记忆魔咒反弹，没害到我们，倒害了他自己，他一点也记不住他是谁，或者，他在哪，又或者，我们是谁，我叫他来这里等，他真是自作自受。” 
　　罗克哈特得意地盯着他们。 
　　“你们好，”他说，“这个地方糟透了。对吧？你们住这吗？” 
　　“不是。”罗恩应道，朝哈利耸耸眉。 
　　哈利弯下身，看着那漆黑漆黑的长管道。 
　　“你有没有想过我们怎么上去？”他问罗恩。 
　　罗恩摇了摇头，但达摩克猛然飞过哈利，在他面前振动着双翅，亮晶晶的眼眸在黑暗中灼灼生辉，它不停摆动着那金色的长尾羽，哈利不确定地望着它。 
　　“看起来，它是要你抓住……”罗恩一脸困惑，“但恐怕它承受不了你的重量。” 
　　“达摩克不是普通的鸟。”他转身对大家说，“我们一个接一个地抓住对方，金妮，握紧罗思的手，罗克哈特教授——” 
　　“他是指你。”罗恩尖刻地对罗克哈特说。 
　　“你抓着金妮的另一只手。” 
　　哈利把剑和分类帽塞进皮带，罗恩抓着哈利的长袍，而哈利则伸手抓着达摩克那温热的尾翼。 
　　一团奇异的光把他们笼罩其中，随着一声嘶鸣，他们便进了管道，往下直飞。 
　　哈利听着罗克哈特一路唠叨个不停：“太神奇了！ 
　　太神奇了！简直像魔法！“冷风吹动着哈利的头发，可还没等哈利享受够，这次旅行就已经结束了——他们四个又回到麦托勒的厕所，而当罗克哈特扶正头上的帽子时，隐藏管道的水龙头又恢复了原状。 
　　麦托勒瞪着他们。 
　　“你还活着，”她坦率地对哈利说。 
　　“用不着这么失望，”他冰冷地说，擦了擦眼睛的血迹和污泥。 
　　“噢，呃……我刚才在想，要是你也死了，欢迎与我共享这厕所。”麦托勒一脸羞红。 
　　“哎唷！”当他们离开浴室，走在黑漆漆，空荡荡的走廊上时。 
　　罗恩取笑道，“哈利！我想麦托勒很喜欢你呢！金妮，你有情敌了！” 
　　但金妮还是默默的流着泪。 
　　“现在去哪？”罗恩一边问，一边忧虑地望着金妮，哈利指了指达摩克。 
　　还是由达摩克引路，金光闪烁。他们紧跟其后大步向前，不一会，就到了麦康娜教授的办公室门外。 
　　哈利敲了敲门，推开了。 
Chapter 18 Dobby’s Reward
For a moment there was silence as Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in Harry's case) blood. Then there was a scream.“Ginny!”It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter.Harry, however, was looking past them. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry's ear and settled on Dumbledore's shoulder, just as Harry found himself and Ron being swept into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace.“You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?”“I think we'd all like to know that,” said Professor McGonagall weakly.Mrs. Weasley let go of Harry, who hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby-encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle's diary.Then he started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: He told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that he was hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how he and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how he had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom…“Very well,” Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, “so you found out where the entrance was -breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add - but how on earth did you all get out of there alive, Potter?”So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes's timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. He had so far avoided mentioning Riddle's diary - or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks. What if they expelled her? Harry thought in panic. Riddle's diary didn't work anymore… How could they prove it had been he who'd made her do it all?Instinctively, Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled faintly, the firelight glancing off his half-moon spectacles.“What interests me most,” said Dumbledore gently, “is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania.”Relief - warm, sweeping, glorious relief - swept over Harry. “W-what's that?” said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. “You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not… Ginny hasn't been… has she?”“It was this diary,” said Harry quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. “Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen…”Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.“Brilliant,” he said softly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen.” He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.“Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… traveled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”“But, Ginny,” said Mrs. Weasley. “What's our Ginny got to do with - with - him?”“His d-diary” Ginny sobbed. “I've b-been writing in it, and he's been w-writing back all year—”“Ginny!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. “Haven't I taught you anything. What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain? Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic!“I d-didn't know,” sobbed Ginny. “I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it—”“Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away,” Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. “This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He strode over to the door and opened it. “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up,” he added, twinkling kindly down at her. “You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out Mandrake juice - I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment.”“So Hermione's okay!” said Ron brightly.“There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny,” said Dumbledore.Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken.“You know, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, “I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?”“Right,” said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door. “I'll leave you to deal with Potter and Weasley, shall I?”“Certainly,” said Dumbledore.She left, and Harry and Ron gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore. What exactly had Professor McGonagall meant, deal with them? Surely - surely - they weren't about to be punished?“I seem to remember telling you both that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules, said Dumbledore.Ron opened his mouth in horror.“Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words,” Dumbledore went on, smiling. “You will both receive Special Awards for Services to the School and - let me see - yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor.”Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart's valentine flowers and closed his mouth again.“But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure,” Dumbledore added. “Why so modest, Gilderoy?”Harry gave a start. He had completely forgotten about Lockhart. He turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to.“Professor Dumbledore,” Ron said quickly, “there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart—”“Am I a professor?” said Lockhart in mild surprise. “Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?”“He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired,” Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore.“Dear me,” said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering. “Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!”“Sword?” said Lockhart dimly. “Haven't got a sword. That boy has, though.” He pointed at Harry. “He'll lend you one.”“Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?” Dumbledore said to Ron. “I'd like a few more words with Harry…”Lockhart ambled out. Ron cast a curious look back at Dumbledore and Harry as he closed the door.Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire.“Sit down, Harry,” he said, and Harry sat, feeling unaccountably nervous.“First of all, Harry, I want to thank you,” said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. “You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you.”He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Harry grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched him.“And so you met Tom Riddle,” said Dumbledore thoughtfully. “I imagine he was most interested in you…”Suddenly, something that was nagging at Harry came tumbling out of his mouth.“Professor Dumbledore… Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said…“Did he, now?” said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows. “And what do you think, Harry?”“I don't think I'm like him!” said Harry, more loudly than he'd intended. “I mean, I'm - I'm in Gryffindor, I'm…”But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind.“Professor,” he started again after a moment. “The Sorting Hat told me I'd - I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while… because I can speak Parseltongue …”“You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly, “because Lord Voldemort - who is the last remaining ancestor of Salazar Slytherin - can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure…”“Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?” Harry said, thunderstruck.“It certainly seems so.”“So I should be in Slytherin,” Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. “The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it—”“Put you in Gryffindor,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue - resourcefulness - determination - a certain disregard for rules,” he added, his mustache quivering again. “Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think.”“It only put me in Gryffindor,” said Harry in a defeated voice, “because I asked not to go in Slytherin…”`Exactly, “said Dumbledore, beaming once more. “Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned. “If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this.”Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.Godric Gryffindor“Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry,” said Dumbledore simply.For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall's desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.“What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban -we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too,” he added Thoughtfully. “We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?”Harry got up and crossed to the door. He had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.“Good evening, Lucius,” said Dumbledore pleasantly.Mr. Malfoy almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoys shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.“So!” he said “You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts.”“Well, you see, Lucius,” said Dumbledore, smiling serenely, “the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasleys daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too… Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place.”Mr. Malfoy went even paler than usual, but his eyes were still slits of fury.“So - have you stopped the attacks yet?” he sneered. “Have you caught the culprit?”“We have,” said Dumbledore, with a smile.“Well?” said Mr. Malfoy sharply. “Who is it?”“The same person as last time, Lucius,” said Dumbledore. “But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary.”He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Harry, however, was watching Dobby.The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.“I see…” said Mr. Malfoy slowly to Dumbledore.“A clever plan,” said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. “Because if Harry here -” Mr. Malfoy shot Harry a swift, sharp look “and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why -- Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will…”Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike.“And imagine,” Dumbledore went on, “what might have happened then… The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and - killing Muggle-borns… Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…”Mr. Malfoy forced himself to speak.“Very fortunate,” he said stiffly.And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head.And Harry suddenly understood. He nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment.“Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?” said Harry.Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.“How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?” he said.“Because you gave it to her,” said Harry. “In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?”He saw Mr. Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench.“Prove it,” he hissed.“Oh, no one will be able to do that,” said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. “Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you…”Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf. “We're going, Dobby!”He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor. Harry stood for a moment, thinking hard. Then it came to him—“Professor Dumbledore,” he said hurriedly. “Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?”“Certainly, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly. “But hurry. The feast, remember… Harry grabbed the diary and dashed out of the office. He could hear Dobby's squeals of pain receding around the corner. Quickly, wondering if this plan could possibly work, Harry took off one of his shoes, pulled off his slimy, filthy sock, and stuffed the diary into it. Then he ran down the dark corridor.He caught up with them at the top of the stairs.“Mr. Malfoy,” he gasped, skidding to a halt, “I've got something for you—”And he forced the smelly sock into Lucius Malfoy's hand.“What the -?”Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry."You'll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter,” he said softly. “They were meddlesome fools, too.”He turned to go.“Come, Dobby. I said, come.”But Dobby didn't move. He was holding up Harry's disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.“Master has given a sock,” said the elf in wonderment. “Master gave it to Dobby.”“What's that?” spat Mr. Malfoy. “What did you say?”“Got a sock,” said Dobby in disbelief. “Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby - Dobby is free.”Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf Then he lunged at Harry.“You've lost me my servant, boy!”But Dobby shouted, “You shall not harm Harry Potter!”There was a loud bang, and Mr. Malfoy was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.“You shall go now,” he said fiercely, pointing down at Mr. Malfoy. “You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now.”Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.“Harry Potter freed Dobby!” said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. “Harry Potter set Dobby free!”“Least I could do, Dobby,” said Harry, grinning. “Just promise never to try and save my life again.”The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile.“I've just got one question, Dobby,” said Harry as Dobby pulled on Harry's sock with shaking hands. “You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well—”“It was a clue, sir,” said Dobby, his eyes widening, as though this was obvious. “Was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?”“Right,” said Harry weakly. “Well, I'd better go. There's a feast, and my friend Hermione should be awake by now…”Dobby threw his arms around Harry's middle and hugged him.“Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!” he sobbed. “Farewell, Harry Potter!”And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.Harry had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pajamas, and the celebration lasted all night. Harry didn't know whether the best bit was Hermione running toward him, screaming “You solved it! You solved it!” or Justin hurrying over from the Hufflepuff table to wring. his hand and apologize endlessly for suspecting him, or Hagrid turning up at half past three, cuffing Harry and Ron so hard on the shoulders that they were knocked into their plates of trifle, or his and Ron's four hundred points for Gryffindor securing the House Cup for the second year running, or Professor McGonagall standing up to tell them all that the exams had been canceled as a school treat ("Oh, no!” said Hermione), or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news.“Shame,” said Ron, helping himself to a jam doughnut. “He has starting to grow on me.”The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences - Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were canceled ("but we've had plenty of practice at that anyway,” Ron told a disgruntled Hermione) and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again.Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny got a compartment to themselves. They made the mos of the last few hours in which they were allowed to do magic before the holidays. They played Exploding Snap, set off the very last of Fred and George's Filibuster fireworks, and practiced disarming each other by magic. Harry was getting very good at it.They were almost at King's Cross when Harry remembered something.“Ginny - what did you see Percy doing, that he didn't want you to tell anyone?”“Oh, that,” said Ginny, giggling. “Well - Percy's got a girlfriend.” Fred dropped a stack of books on George's head.“What?”“It's that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater,” said Ginny. “That's who he was writing to all last summer. He's been meeting her all over the school in secret. I walked in on them kissing in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was - you know - attacked. You won't tease him, will you?” she added anxiously.“Wouldn't dream of it,” said Fred, who was looking like his birthday had come early.“Definitely not,” said George, sniggering.The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped.Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron and Hermione.“This is called a telephone number,” he told Ron, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to them. “I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer - he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to…”“Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won't they?” said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. “When they hear what you did this year?”“Proud?” said Harry. “Are you crazy? All those times I could've died, and I didn't manage it? They'll be furious…”And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.
有一刻十分安静。哈利、罗恩、金妮和罗克哈特站在门口，身上粘着污秽和泥，（对哈利而言）还有血。随后传来了一声尖叫。 　　“金妮！” 　　是威斯里夫人的声音，她刚才一直在暖炉前哭呢！她大步向前，后面紧跟着威斯里先生，两人都向他们的女儿冲去。 　　而哈利则在看着他们。丹伯多教授站在壁炉架旁，愉快的微笑着。他旁边站着麦康娜教授，这位教授正大声而平稳的喘着气，手紧紧的捂着胸。正当哈利发现罗恩和他自己都被拉入了威斯里夫人的怀抱时，达摩克就靠在丹伯多的肩上，轻轻在他耳边低语了几句。 　　“你救了她！你救了她！你怎么做到的？” 　　“我认为我们大家都想知道这一点。”麦康娜教授声音微弱的说。 　　威斯里夫人松开哈利。他犹豫了一下，然后向桌子走去，将分类帽里红宝石的刻以及瑞德日记未损坏的部分放在桌上。 　　然后他就开始讲出一切了。差不多有一刻钟，他都在一片全神贯注的宁静中讲述着：他告诉他们那把奇怪的声音，荷米恩如何最终察觉到巴斯里斯克巨蟒；他和罗恩如何跟着蜘蛛走进了森林，也就是阿拉哥告诉他们巴斯里斯克的第一个受害者死的地方，以及进秘密小屋的通道可能在厕所里…… 　　“很好，”麦康娜教授在哈利停下来时催促他说，“也就是说你找到了通道——我必须说一句，你沿路破坏了100条校规——不过你究竟是怎么从那里活着出来的，波特？” 　　于是，由于刚才的描述而声音变得沙哑了的哈利开始告诉他们达摩克怎么即时赶到，那顶分类帽怎么给了他那把剑的事。但是接着他却踌躇了。他不想谈及瑞德日记的事——有关金妮的部分。她正将头埋在威斯里夫人的肩里，眼泪沿着脸颊静静的流下来。要是他们开除了她怎么办？哈利惊慌的想着。瑞德的日记已经损坏了……他们怎么能证明是他让她作这一切的呢？ 　　哈利本能地看着正在微笑着的丹伯多，一丝亮光掠过了他半月形的眼镜。“我最感兴趣的，”丹伯多温和的说，“就是我有消息来源说他躲在森林里，那他又是用怎样的魔法迷惑金妮的呢？” 　　安慰——一种温暖，持久美妙的安慰感——向哈利袭来。 　　“什么？”威斯里先生惊讶的问。“‘那个人’？用魔法迷惑了金妮？可是金妮不是……金妮没有……她有吗？” 　　“是这本日记，”哈利迅速的说，一边拿起日记，把他递给丹怕多看。“瑞德在他16岁时写的。” 　　丹伯多接过日记，低下他长而弯的鼻子认真的看着那些潮湿烧灼过的日记纸。 　　“聪明！”他柔和的说。“当然，他大概是霍格瓦彻有史以来最聪明的学生了。” 　　他转身朝着满脸迷茫的威斯里先生和夫人走过去。 　　“很少有人知道福尔得摩特曾叫瑞德。50年前，在霍格瓦彻，我是他的老师。 　　在离校后，他就消失了……到很远的地方去了…… 　　沉浸在黑色的艺术里，结交了一群最坏的巫士，然后当他摇身一变成为福尔得摩特黑暗巫师时，仅仅剩容貌可以辨认了。几乎没有人会将福尔得摩特和曾经那个聪明的男孩联系在一起。”“但是金妮，“威斯里先生说，”我们的金妮和他又有什么关系呢？” 　　“他的日记！”金妮呜咽着说。“我在里面写过东西，而他也一直在回信——” 　　“金妮！”威斯里先生惊讶得目瞪口呆。“我难道没有教过你吗？我跟你说过什么？ 　　像那样一个可疑的东西，里面全都是黑色魔法！” 　　“我不知道，”金妮哽咽说。“我是在妈妈给我的那些书里找到这个的。我以为有人把它忘在那里了……” 　　“威斯里小姐应该马上去医院疗养一段时间，”丹伯多严肃地插了一句。“这对她来说是一场苦难的经历。不要再惩罚她了。那些比她老而聪明的巫士也被福尔得摩特骗过。”她走在门边，把门打开。“好好的睡一觉，或许再吃上一大杯热巧克力。那总是能够令我振奋。” 　　他接着说，眼睛慈祥地望着他眨巴眨巴的。“你们会发现波姆弗雷夫人还醒着呢。她正在分发万锐克果汁——我敢说巴斯里斯克的受害者随时都会醒来。” 　　“所以荷米恩没事了！”罗恩欢快的说。 　　“危险并非持久性的。”丹伯多说。 　　威斯里夫人带着金妮走了出去，威斯里跟在后面，他看起来仍然心神不宁。 　　“你知道，米娜，”丹伯多教授若有所思得对麦康娜教授说，“我觉得我们得大吃一顿，压压惊，也庆祝一下。你可以去厨房叫他们做饭吗？”“好，”麦康娜教授爽快的说，同时也走到门边。“那你来应付波特和威斯里吧，怎么样？” 　　“当然”丹伯多说。 　　她走了，哈利和罗恩都疑惑的看着丹伯多。 　　麦康娜教授到底是什么意思，什么叫“应付”他们？ 　当然——当然——他们不会受到惩罚吧？ 　“我们好像记得告诉过你们俩如果你们触犯任何校规，我就会开除你们。”丹伯多说。 　　罗恩恐惧的张大嘴巴。 　　“那些显示我们中最优秀的人有时必须食言的校规，”丹伯多笑着继续说。 　　“你们都会获得‘服务学校特别奖”，并且——让我想想——对了，我想你们每人可以为格林芬顿学院加200分。“罗恩的脸立刻红得如罗克哈特情人节的花一般。他又闭上了嘴。 　　“但是我们中有一个人似乎在这次危险的冒险中表现得过于平静了，”丹伯多接着说。“为什么这么谦让呀，罗克哈特？” 　　哈利带头说了。他已完全忘记了罗克哈特。他转过身看见罗克哈特站在房间的一个角落，脸上仍带着暧昧的笑容。当丹伯多对他说话的时候，罗克哈特从扭头去看他在和谁说话。 　　“丹伯多教授，”罗恩性急的说，“在秘密小屋中发生了一件事。 　　罗克哈特教授——”“我是教授吗？“罗克哈特有些惊讶的问。 　　“他试图施记忆魔咒但是魔杖倒发了他自己。”罗恩迫切的对丹伯多解释。 　　“天呀，”丹伯多摇着头说，长长的银白胡须直抖。“被自己的魔杖戳穿了，罗克哈特！” 　　“魔杖？”罗克哈特迟钝的说。“没有杖。但那个男孩有。”他指着哈利说。 　　“他会借给你一把的。” 　　“你介意把罗克哈特教授也带到医院病房去吗？”丹伯多对罗恩说。“我想和哈利说几句话……” 　　罗克哈特轻松地走了出去。罗恩一边关门一边好奇的回头看了丹伯多和哈利一眼。 　　丹伯多盘着双腿，坐在了取暖器前的一张椅子上。 　　“坐下来，哈利，”他说，哈利坐了下来，赶到莫名的不安。 　　“首先，哈利，我想谢谢你，”丹伯多说，眼里再次闪烁着光芒。“在小屋你一定表现了真正的忠诚。对你，只有这个才能称为达摩克。” 　　他抚摸着飞到他膝上的达摩克，看着哈利，尴尬的咧着嘴笑了。 　　“所以你见过瑞德了。”丹伯多若有所思的说。“我想他对你最有兴趣……” 　　突然哈利说出了困扰了他已久的事情。 　　“丹伯多教授……瑞德说我和他还有许多奇怪的相似，他说……”“他说过吗？” 　　丹伯多的银色睫毛下的一双眼睛若有所思的看着哈利。“你怎么看呢。哈利？” 　　“我认为我不像他！哈利说，声音比他预计的要大的多。”我是说，我——我是在格林芬顿学院，我是——“但是他没接着说下去，脑里又出现了一丝怀疑。 　　“教授，”过了一会儿他又说，“分类帽曾经对我说，我本来——我本来在史林德林可以做得很好。有一段时间每个人都认为我是史林德林的后代……因为我会说蛇语……” 　　“你会说蛇语，哈利，”丹伯多平静的说，“因为福尔得摩特——撒拉沙。史林德林的最后继承人——会说蛇语。除非我弄错了，不然你这个有奇怪疤痕的头在那晚一定将他的一些魔力传给了你。 　　这并不是他的本来意愿，我肯定……”“福尔得摩特把他自己的一部分力量给了我？哈利大吃一惊的问。 　　“看起来是这样。” 　　“所以我应该在史林德林学院吗？”哈利试探的望着丹伯多的脸说。“分类帽能看见我身上具有的史林德林的威力，并且它——” 　　“还是把你放到了格林芬顿，”丹伯多平静的说。“听我说，哈利，你具有许多那些撒拉沙。史林德林信任而仔细挑选的学生特点。 　　拥有稀有的天赋，会讲蛇语……能随机应变，决定所做的事后对条条框框不屑一顾。“他接着说，胡须抖动了。”但是分类帽把你放在格林芬顿，你知道是为什么？想一想吧！”“他只是把我放在格林芬顿“哈利说，声音里透出一股挫败感，”因为我不想去史林德林……” 　　“正是，”丹伯多教授再次微笑着说。“这也正是你和瑞德不同的地方。这是我们自己的选择，哈利，他表现了真实的自己，比我们的能力更能说明问题。”哈利坐在椅子上一动不动，惊讶极了。 　　“如果你要你是属于格林芬顿的证据，哈利，那么我建议你认真的看看这个。” 　　丹伯多手越过麦康娜教授的桌子，那起有血渍的银色剑，并把他递给哈利。 　　哈利适当的转动着它，红色的宝石在火光中熠熠生辉。然后他看见了刀柄下刻的名字。 　　各德锐。格林芬顿“只有真正的格林芬顿才能将这个从帽子里拔出来，哈利。” 　　丹伯多教授简略的说。 　有一小会儿，他们谁也没有做声。然后丹伯多拉开麦康娜的抽屉，从里面拿出了一只羽毛笔和一瓶墨水。 　　“你需要事物和休息，哈利。我建议你在我写信给阿兹克班的时候先下去吃东西——我们需要恢复精力。我还要在《先知日报》上登一则广告，”他沉思着说。 　　“我们将需要一个新的防黑暗巫术课程的老师。天啦，我们得好好审查一下他们，是吗？” 　　哈利站起身来，穿到门边。但是他刚刚触到门吧，门就突然猛烈的破开，并向墙后反弹了好远。 　　露布斯。马尔夫站在那里，一脸怒气。多比蟋缩在他包扎着绷带的手臂下面。 　　“晚上好，露布斯。”丹伯多愉快的说。 　　马尔夭先生快步走进房间，几乎把哈利给撞到。多比紧紧跟在他后面，神色慌张的蹲在抖篷下摆处。 　　“好！”露布斯。马尔夫说，眼睛冷冷的盯着丹伯多。“你回来了。领导们已经停了你的职，但你却还厚颜无耻得到霍格瓦彻来。” 　　“嗯，你看，露布斯，”丹伯多平静的笑着说，“其余的十一个头头今天都联络了我。说实话，他们似乎认为我是解决这件事情的最佳人选。他们对我讲的事也很奇怪。他们中有几个好像认为如果他们不停我的职，你会诅咒他们的家庭。” 　　露布斯马尔夫先生的脸变得异常惨白，但眼里仍然充满了愤怒。 　“那——你已阻止了攻击吗？”他讥笑说。“你抓到凶手了？” 　　“我们已抓到他了。”丹伯多笑了一笑说。 　　“哦？”马尔夫尖刻的说。“是谁呀？” 　　“和上次的是同一个人，露布斯，”丹伯多说。“但这次，福尔得摩特却是通过别人来行动的。通过用这本日记。” 　　他举起那本中间有个黑洞的日记本，死死的看着马尔夫先生。 　　哈利却在一边看着多比。 　　着小精灵正在奇怪的做着什么。他的大眼睛意味深长的看着哈利，不停得指指日记，又指指马尔夫，然后用拳头重重的打自己的脑袋。 　　“我想……”马尔夫慢慢的对丹伯多说。 　　“一个聪明的计划，”丹伯多平静的说，眼睛仍然紧紧的盯着马尔夫。“因为如果哈利——”马尔夫快速的扫了哈利一眼，“和他的朋友罗恩没有发现这本书，那么——威斯里小姐可能要承担所有的罪名。 　　马尔夫先生没有出声，他的脸突然像带了面具一般水无表情。 　“试想一下，”丹伯多教授继续说，“那将会发生什么……威斯里一家是我们这里最杰出的纯血统家庭。想想这会对亚瑟。威斯里和他的”混血统保护法“产生的影响吧，如果连他自己的女儿都被发现袭击并杀害混血统后代的话……不过非常幸运，日记发现了，瑞德的回忆从中抹掉了。谁知道会发生什么，如果……” 　　马尔夫先生强迫他自己说几句。 　　“非常幸运。”他机械的说。 　　而在他的背后，多比仍在指指日记又指指露布斯，然后就猛捶自己的头部。 　　哈利恍然大悟，理解了多比的意思。他对多比点点头，多比退到角落里，耷拉着耳朵惩罚自己。 　　“你难道不想知道金妮是怎么拿到这日记的吗，马尔夫先生？” 　　哈利问。 　　露布斯。马尔夫故意的兜着圈子。 　　“我怎么会知道这个愚蠢的女生怎么拿到它的呢？”他说。 　　“因为是你把这个给她的，”哈利说。“在弗维里斯和巴洛特斯书店时你拿了她的初级变形课本，然后将日记塞在了里面，是吗？” 　　她看见马尔夫惨白的手握紧了又松开。 　　“证据呢？”他挑衅道。 　　“哦，没有人可以证实这一点，”丹伯多说，并先看了看哈利，“即使现在瑞德也没从书中消失。一方面，必须建议你，露布斯，不要再分发任何福尔得摩特在学校时的东西。如果它们中的任何一件到了无辜的人手里，我想亚瑟。威斯里首先会让他们返回到你的身上……” 　　露布斯。马尔夫站立了一刻，哈利清晰的看见他的右手在抽搐，好像他很想去拿魔杖一样。但是他没有。他只是转向他的小精灵。 　　“我们要走了，多比。” 　　他猛拉开门，一脚把紧跟在他后面的小精灵踢了出去。 　　他们能够听到多比由于疼痛而在走廊发出的尖叫声。哈利站在那儿，使劲的想着，然后就有了注意。 　　“丹伯多教授，”他急切的说，“我可以把那本日记给回马尔夫教授吗？” 　　“当然可以，哈利，”丹伯多教授平静的说，“但得快。别忘了还有晚宴呢！” 　　哈利一把抓起日记，冲出了办公室。他能听到多比的尖叫声在角落里盘旋。很快，考虑到事情不知能否成功，哈利脱下鞋和细长的袜子，并把日记塞进了袜里。 　　然后他就在黑黑的走廊上奔跑。 　　他在楼梯处赶上了他们。 　　“马尔夫先生，”他喘着气说，不是还停一停，“我有点东西要给你。” 　　随后他应把臭臭的袜子塞到了露布斯。马尔夫手里。 　　“这是？” 　　马尔夫先生撕破袜子，将其扔到一边，然后愤怒的看看哈利又看看损坏了的日记本。 　　“你很快就会像你的父母一样没有好下场，哈利。波特，”他轻轻的说。“他们都是爱惹闲事的蠢猪。” 　　他转身要走。 　　“来，多比，我说‘来’，多比！” 　　但是多比没有过去。他正捧着哈利臭臭的袜子，仿佛那是无价之宝一般。 　　“主人给了多比一只袜子。”小精灵惊讶的说。 　　“主人把这个给多比了。” 　　“那是什么？”马尔夫先生淬道。“你刚才说什么？‘” 　　“多比有了一只袜子，”多比难以置信的说道。“主人扔了它，而多比却接到了它，多比——多比自由了。” 　　露布斯。马尔夫一动不动的站在那里，眼睛瞪着小精灵，哈利大笑起来。 　　“你耍诡计让我失去我的仆人，小子！”他说着扑向哈利。 　　但是多比大吼起来。 　接着传来“砰”的一声巨响，马尔夫先生被扔了出去。他跌落在楼梯上，一次落三个台阶，最后停在了楼梯子台一堆拥挤的货物上。他爬起来，脸上青一块紫一块的。当他准备拿出魔杖时，多比却拿一只手指威胁性的指着他。 　　“现在你可以走了，”他指着马尔夫先生狂暴的说。“你不要碰哈利。波特。 　　你现在可以走了。” 　　露布斯。马尔夫毫无选择。最后他瞪了哈利和多比一眼，披起抖篷消失在视线外了。 　　“哈利。波特和多比！”小精灵尖声欢呼，并抬眼看着哈利，目光从最近的一扇窗透进来映在他球形的眼睛里。“哈利。波特使多比自由了！” 　　“我只能做这些了，多比，”哈利说。“答应我，以后再也不要试图救我了。” 　　小精灵丑陋的棕色脸突然露出灿烂的笑容。 　　“我只有一个问题，多比，”哈利对正在用颤抖的手穿袜子的多比说。“你告诉我这一切都与‘那个人’无关，记得吗？嗯——” 　　“这只是一个线索，先生，”多比睁大眼睛说，就好像这是再明显不过的了。 　　“多比是给你提供一条线索。黑暗巫师在换名字以前可以被任意的叫，明白了吧？” 　　“对，”哈利声音微弱的说。“好，我要走了。我要去参加一个宴会，我的朋友荷米恩现在该醒了吧…… 　　多比伸出手围住哈利的腰，紧紧的抱着他。 　　“哈利。波特比多比我了解的要伟大的多！”他呜咽着说。“再见了，哈利。 　　波特！” 　　随着最后一次猛击头部的声音，多比消失了。 　　哈利。波特参加过几次霍格瓦彻的宴会，但这次去与众不同。 　　每个人都穿着睡衣，庆祝活动持续了一整晚。 　　哈利不知道最好的一点是荷米恩向他跑来，大叫着“你做到了！你做到了！” 　　还是贾斯丁匆匆赶过来，捏着他的手，为曾怀疑过他而无休无止的道歉，或是哈格力在三点半出现，拍打哈利和罗恩的肩膀——拍得太重以致于他们握在了蛋糕上，或是他和罗恩的400分使格林芬顿稳拿第二学年最佳学院杯，还是麦康娜教授站起来对他们说所有的考试都被取消了（“哦，不！”荷米恩说），或是丹伯多教授宣布由于罗克哈特教授必须去找回他的记忆，因此他很遗憾他在下一年不能回来了。 　　很多老师都为这一消息而欢呼不已。 　　“耻辱，”罗恩一边吃着甜饼圈一边说。“但我渐渐的开始喜欢他了。” 　　剩下的夏季就在明亮阳光的薄雾中过去了。霍格瓦彻又恢复了原样，只有一些小小的不同：黑暗巫术防卫课程被取消了（“但是我们还是有一大堆的练习，”罗恩对满腹牢骚的荷米恩说），露布斯。马尔夫也已被解雇，不再担任领导。马尔夫也不再大摇大摆的在学校走来走去，好像学校是属于他的一般。相反，他看起来满腔怨气和怒气。另一方面，金妮。威斯里又和以往一样开心了。 　　搭上霍格瓦彻特快回家的日子来的太快了。 　　哈利、罗恩、荷米恩、弗来德、乔治和金妮同坐一个车厢。他们充分利用最后几个小时，在放假前，表演魔法。他们玩弗利巴斯特烟花，并练习用魔咒消除对方武器。哈利对此非常在行。 　　当哈利记起一件事时，他们几乎已到国王十字口车站了。 　　“金妮，你知道伯希在干什么？他为什么不让你告诉别人？” 　　“哦，那个呀，”金妮咯咯的傻笑。“嘿——伯希交了一个女朋友。” 　　弗来德扔了一堆书在乔治头上。 　　“什么？” 　　“就是那个被袭击的罗尼文克劳的女孩，”金妮说。“去年一整个暑假伯希都在写信给她。他在学校各处与她秘密见面。一天我走进一间空教室，看见他们在接吻。当她——你知道——被袭击时，他很沮丧。你不会取笑他吧？”他焦虑的说。 　　“当然不会。”弗雷得说，他看起来好像生日到了一股开心。 　　“当然不会。”乔治窃笑。 　　霍格瓦彻特快开始减速，最后停了下来。 　　哈利拿出他的羽毛笔和一点羊皮纸，然后转向罗恩和荷米恩。 　　“这叫电话号码，”他告诉罗恩。他抄了两次号码，撕成两份，递给他们。 　　“去年夏天我告诉过你爸爸怎么使用电话，他知道的。 　　打电话给我，好吗？我无法忍受两个月里只跟达德里说话……”“可是你姨妈和姨丈会自豪的，不是吗？“荷米恩也说，也和罗恩下了火车，加入正向栏杆挤的人群。”当他们听到今年你干的那些事时？” 　　“自豪？”哈利说。“你疯了吗？那段时间我没有死，我没有设法死掉，他们会很生气的……” 　　接着他们一起朝着通向马格人世界的大门走去。