Harry1 spent a lot of time over the next few days dodging2 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 exasperated3 Harry sounded when he said it.
Hedwig was still angry with Harry about the disastrous4 car journey and Ron's wand was still malfunctioning5, 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, throbbing6 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 groggily8.
“Quidditch practice!” said Wood. “Come on!”
Harry squinted9 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 croaked10. “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 heartily11. “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 scarlet12 team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth, Harry scribbled13 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 clatter14 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 brandishing15 under his nose.
A moving, black-and-white Lockhart was tugging16 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 slumped17, 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 deserted18. “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 scrambled19 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, trotting20 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 hoops21 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 awe22.
“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 drawn23 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 caterpillars24. As Wood launched into a speech about his new tactics, Fred Weasley's head drooped25 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 stupor26 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, glowering27 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 regain28 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 locker29 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, racing30 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 shrilly31.
“Who's that?” said Fred.
“No idea,” Harry lied, putting on a spurt32 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 testily33.
“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 hissed34 in outrage35. “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 bellowed36 at the Slytherin Captain. “This is our practice time! We got up specially37! 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, positively38 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, smirking39 all over his pale, pointed40 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, flicking41 a speck42 of dust from the end of his own. “I believe it outstrips43 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 slits44.
“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 gaped45, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.
“Good, aren't they?” said Malfoy smoothly46. “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle47 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 flickered48.
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy49 little Mudblood,” he spat50.
Harry knew at once that Malfoy had said something really bad because there was an instant uproar51 at his words. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked52, “How dare you!” and Ron plunged53 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?” squealed54 Hermione.
Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty55 belch56 and several slugs dribbled57 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 belching58 large, glistening59 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.
“Bin7 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 perturbed60 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 copper61 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 bustling62 around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang63, 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,” growled64 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 banished65. 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 treacle66 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 hoarsely67, 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 outraged68.
“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,” gasped69 Ron, coming back up. “Mudblood's a really foul70 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 magenta71.
“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 jaws72 together.
“Harry,” said Hagrid abruptly73 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 wrenched74 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 genially75 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 decided76 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 pumpkins77 Harry had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder78.
“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 concealed79 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, halfway80 between disapproval81 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 twitching82. “Said she was jus'lookin'round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin'she might run inter83 someone else at my house.” He winked84 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 detentions86 this evening.”
“What're we doing, Professor?” said Ron, nervously87 suppressing a burp.
“You will be polishing the silver in the trophy88 room with Mr. Filch89,” said Professor McGonagall. “And no magic, Weasley - elbow grease.”
Ron gulped90. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed91 by every student in the school.
“And you, Potter, will be helping92 Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail,” said Professor McGonagall.
“Oh n- Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?” said Harry desperately93.
“Certainly not,” said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows94. “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 swap95 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 gritted96 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 countless97 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 fickle98 friend, Harry,” or “Celebrity99 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 miserably100, please let it be nearly time…
And then he heard something - something quite apart from the spitting of the dying candles and Lockhart's prattle101 about his fans.
It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow102, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom103.
“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 blot104 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 frantically105. “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 astonishment106.
“What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy107? 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 detention85. 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 pajamas108, 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 groaned109, 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 canopy110 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。”
收听单词发音 |
1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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3
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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malfunctioning
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| 出故障 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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groggily
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| adv.酒醉地；东倒西歪地 | |
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squinted
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| 斜视( squint的过去式和过去分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
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croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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brandishing
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| v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 )；炫耀 | |
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tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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hoops
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| n.箍( hoop的名词复数 )；（篮球）篮圈；（旧时儿童玩的）大环子；（两端埋在地里的）小铁弓 | |
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22
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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caterpillars
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| n.毛虫( caterpillar的名词复数 )；履带 | |
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25
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
stupor
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| v.昏迷；不省人事 | |
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27
glowering
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| v.怒视( glower的现在分词 ) | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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30
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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34
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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35
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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36
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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37
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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38
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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39
smirking
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| v.傻笑( smirk的现在分词 ) | |
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40
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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41
flicking
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的现在分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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42
speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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43
outstrips
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| v.做得比…更好，（在赛跑等中）超过( outstrip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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44
slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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45
gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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46
smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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47
raffle
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| n.废物，垃圾，抽奖售卖；v.以抽彩出售 | |
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48
flickered
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| （通常指灯光）闪烁，摇曳( flicker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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50
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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51
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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52
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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53
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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54
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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55
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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56
belch
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| v.打嗝，喷出 | |
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57
dribbled
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| v.流口水( dribble的过去式和过去分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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58
belching
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| n. 喷出，打嗝 动词belch的现在分词形式 | |
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59
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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60
perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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62
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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63
fang
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| n.尖牙，犬牙 | |
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64
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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65
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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66
treacle
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| n.糖蜜 | |
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67
hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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68
outraged
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| a.震惊的，义愤填膺的 | |
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69
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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70
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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71
magenta
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| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
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72
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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73
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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74
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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pumpkins
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| n.南瓜( pumpkin的名词复数 )；南瓜的果肉，南瓜囊 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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disapproval
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| n.反对，不赞成 | |
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twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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detention
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| n.滞留，停留；拘留，扣留；(教育)留下 | |
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detentions
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| 拘留( detention的名词复数 )； 扣押； 监禁； 放学后留校 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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swap
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| n.交换；vt.交换，用...作交易 | |
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gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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prattle
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| n.闲谈；v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话；发出连续而无意义的声音 | |
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marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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drowsy
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| adj.昏昏欲睡的，令人发困的 | |
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pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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canopy
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| n.天篷，遮篷 | |
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