Harry1 was several streets away before he collapsed2 onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic3 thumping4 of his heart.
But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded5, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction6 of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry7 of Magic representatives weren't swooping8 down on him where he sat.
Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent.
What, was going to happen to him? Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed9 from the wizarding world? He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them.
He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault11 at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless…
He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was. now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father — what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then he could get the rest of his money out of his vault and…begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect12, but he couldn't sit on this wall forever, or he'd find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunk full of spell books and a broomstick.
Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak — but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more.
A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted13, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.
He bent14 over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched15 on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing16 in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted17 at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or — something else.
“Lumos,” Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.
Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter19.
There was a deafening20 BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light…
With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched21 to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight22 Bus.
For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve—”
The conductor stopped abruptly23. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled24 to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding25 ears and quite a few pimples26.
“What were you doin’ down there?” said Stan, dropping his professional manner.
“Fell over,” said Harry.
“'Choo fall over for?” sniggered Stan.
“I didn't do it on purpose,” said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty.
“‘Choo lookin’ at?” said Stan.
“There was a big black thing,” said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. “Like a dog…but massive…”
He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stan's eyes move to the scar on Harry's forehead.
“Woss that on your ‘ead?” said Stan abruptly.
“Nothing,” said Harry quickly, flattening27 his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them.
“Woss your name?” Stan persisted.
“Neville Longbottom,” said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. “So — so this bus,” he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, “did you say it goes anywhere?”
“Yep,” said Stan proudly, “anywhere you like, ‘long it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater.
“Ere,” he said, looking suspicious again, “you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand ‘and, dincha?”
“Yes,” said Harry quickly. “Listen, how much would it be to get to London?”
“Eleven Sickles,” said Stan, “but for firteen you get ‘ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ‘ot-water bottle an’ a toofbrush in the color of your choice.”
Harry rummaged28 once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some gold into Stan's hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.
There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass29 bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating30 the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, “Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs” and rolled over in his sleep.
“You ‘ave this one,” Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering31 wheel. “This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern.”
Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously32 flattened33 his bangs again and sat down on his bed.
“Take ‘er away, Ern,” said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.
There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling34 along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harry's stunned36 face with great enjoyment37.
“This is where we was before you flagged us down,” he said. “Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?”
“Ar,” said Ernie.
“How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?” said Harry.
“Them!” said Stan contemptuously. “Don’ listen properly, do they? Don’ look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'.”
“Best go wake up Madam Marsh38, Stan,” said Ern. “We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute.”
Stan passed Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.
Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.
“'Ere you go, Madam Marsh,” said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered39 down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed40 the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.
Harry wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Aunt Marge off the ceiling yet.
Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harry from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.
“That man!” Harry said, forgetting his troubles for a moment. “He was on the Muggle news!”
Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled41.
“Sirius Black,” he said, nodding. “‘Course ‘e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?”
He gave a superior sort of chuckle42 at the blank look on Harry's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.
“You oughta read the papers more, Neville.”
Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and read:
BLACK STILL AT LARGE
Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous43 prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress44, is still eluding45 capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.
“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”
Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation46 of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.
“Well, really, I had to, don't you know,” said an irritable47 Fudge. “Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?”
While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre48 like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.
Harry looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harry had never met a vampire49, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense50 Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy51 white skin, looked just like one.
“Scary-lookin’ fing, inee?” said Stan, who had been watching Harry read.
“He murdered thirteen people?” said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, “with one curse?”
“Yep,” said Stan, “in front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?”
“Ar,” said Ern darkly.
Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry.
“Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-‘Oo,” he said.
“What, Voldemort?” said Harry, without thinking.
Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse52 had to jump aside to avoid the bus.
“You outta your tree?” yelped53 Stan. “‘Choo say ‘is name for?”
“Sorry,” said Harry hastily. “Sorry, I — I forgot —”
“Forgot!” said Stan weakly. “Blimey, my ‘eart's goin’ that fast…”
“So — so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?” Harry prompted apologetically.
“Yeah,” said Stan, still rubbing his chest. “Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-‘Oo, they say…anyway, when little ‘Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-‘Oo” — Harry nervously flattened his bangs down again — “all You-Know-‘Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of ‘em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-‘Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I ‘eard he thought ‘e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-‘Oo ‘ad taken over.
“Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an’ Black took out ‘is wand and ‘e blasted ‘alf the street apart, an’ a wizard got it, an’ so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. ‘Orrible, eh? An’ you know what Black did then?” Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.
“What?” said Harry.
“Laughed,” said Stan. “Jus’ stood there an’ laughed. An’ when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, ‘e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing ‘is ‘ead off. ‘Cos ‘e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?”
“If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now,” said Ern in his slow voice. “I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you…after what he did…”
“They ‘ad a job coverin’ it up, din’ they, Ern?” Stan said. “‘Ole street blown up an’ all them Muggles dead. What was it they said ‘ad ‘appened, Ern?”
“Gas explosion,” grunted54 Ernie.
“An’ now ‘e's out,” said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. “Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, ‘as there, Ern? Beats me ‘ow ‘e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy ‘is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?”
Ernie suddenly shivered. “Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles.”
Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights’ time.
“‘Ear about that ‘Arry Potter? Blew up ‘is aunt! We ‘ad ‘im ‘ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? ‘E was tryin’ to run for it…”
He, Harry, had broken wizard law just like Sirius Black. Was inflating55 Aunt Marge bad enough to land him in Azkaban? Harry didn't know anything about the wizard prison, though everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had spent two months there only last year. Harry wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when he had been told where he was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harry knew.
The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering56 bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harry lay, restless and miserable57, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing58 gowns and slippers59 descended60 from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.
Finally, Harry was the only passenger left.
“Right then, Neville,” said Stan, clapping his hands, “whereabouts in London?”
“Righto,” said Stan. “‘Old tight, then.”
BANG.
They were thundering along Charing61 Cross Road. Harry sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter62. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off — where, he didn't know.
Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded63 to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.
“Thanks,” Harry said to Ern.
He jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.
“Well,” said Harry. “‘Bye then!”
But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway64 to the bus) he was goggling65 at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
“There you are, Harry,” said a voice.
Before Harry could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, “Blimey! Ern, come ‘ere! Come ‘ere!”
Harry looked up at the owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade66 into his stomach — he had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.
Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.
“What didja call Neville, Minister?” he said excitedly.
Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted67.
“Neville?” he repeated, frowning. “This is Harry Potter.”
“I knew it!” Stan shouted gleefully. “Ern! Ern! Guess ‘oo Neville is, Ern! ‘E's ‘Arry Potter! I can see ‘is scar!”
“Yes,” said Fudge testily68, “well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now…”
Fudge increased the pressure on Harry's shoulder, and Harry found himself being steered69 inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened70, toothless landlord.
“You've got him, Minister!” said Tom. “Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?”
“Perhaps a pot of tea,” said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry.
There was a loud scraping and puffing71 from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly.
“‘Ow come you di'n't tell us ‘oo you are, eh, Neville?” said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder.
“And a private parlor72, please, Tom,” said Fudge pointedly73.
“‘Bye,” Harry said miserably74 to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned75 Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.
“‘Bye, Neville!” called Stan.
Fudge marched Harry along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.
“Sit down, Harry,” said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.
Harry sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched76 up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry.
“I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic.”
Harry already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that.
Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron77 over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.
“Well, Harry,” said Fudge, pouring out tea, “you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think…but you're safe, and that's what matters.”
Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.
“Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then…You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured78 and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done.”
Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim10 of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. Harry, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.
“Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?” said Fudge. “Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays.”
Harry unstuck his throat.
“I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays,” he said, “and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive.”
“Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down,” said Fudge in a worried tone. “They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other — er — very deep down.”
It didn't occur to Harry to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now.
“So all that remains,” said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, “is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and…”
“Hang on,” blurted79 Harry. “What about my punishment?”
Fudge blinked. “Punishment?”
“I broke the law!” Harry said. “The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!”
“Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!” cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. “It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”
But this didn't tally80 at all with Harry's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic.
“Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!” he told Fudge, frowning. “The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!”
Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.
“Circumstances change, Harry…We have to take into account…in the present climate…Surely you don't want to be expelled?”
“Of course I don't,” said Harry.
“Well then, what's all the fuss about?” laughed Fudge. “Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you.”
Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?
Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.
“Room eleven's free, Harry,” said Fudge. “I think you'll be very comfortable. just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand…I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me.”
“Okay,” said Harry slowly, “but why?”
“Don't want to lose you again, do we?” said Fudge with a hearty81 laugh. “No, no…best we know where you are…I mean…”
Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.
“Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know…”
“Have you had any luck with Black yet?” Harry asked.
Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.
“What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed…and they are angrier than I've ever seen them.”
“So, I'll say good-bye.”
He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea.
“Er — Minister? Can I ask you something?”
“Certainly,” said Fudge with a smile.
“Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could —?”
Fudge was looking uncomfortable.
“Ah,” he said. “No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian83 —”
“But you're the Minister of Magic,” said Harry eagerly. “If you gave me permission…”
“No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules,” said Fudge flatly.
“Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't…yes…well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry.”
And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry.
“If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter,” he said, “I've already taken your things up…”
Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.
Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe —
The snowy owl35 clicked her beak85 and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.
“Very smart owl you've got there,” chuckled Tom. “Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask.”
He gave another bow and left.
Harry sat on his bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety86 blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harry could hardly believe that he'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dursley-free weeks.
“It's been a very weird87 night, Hedwig,” he yawned.
And without even removing his glasses, he slumped88 back onto his pillows and fell asleep.
哈利在进入马克来里新月街时已经穿过几条街了。他放下皮箱重重地喘着气。
他直直的坐着，心头的火还在不停地汹涌着。他听到自己狂热的心在跳动着。
坐在那黑暗的街上大概十分钟，他被一种新的感觉所控制。他从来没有试过陷入这样坏的窘境，他束手无策，一个人在“马格人”的世界，完全没有地方可以去，最糟糕的是，他又施用了魔法，这意味着他可能被霍格瓦彻赶出校。他破了未成年巫师的规则，他还奇怪魔法部长代表怎么还没有在他坐的地方猝然下降。
哈利打了个冷颤，他向马克来里新月街前后看看。将会发生什么事呢？他会被捕吗，还是会成为魔法界的歹徒呢？他想起罗恩和荷米恩，他的心更沉了，哈利很肯定，无论他成了罪犯或其它，罗恩和荷米恩都会帮他的，但是他们都在外国，海维也不在身边，他没办法联系上他们。
他没有什么非魔法界用的钱了，在皮箱底的钱包里他有一把魔法金钥匙。但他父母留给他的遗产都存放在伦敦的格林高斯银行的金库中，除非……
他看看他的魔杖，他仍紧紧握在手中。如果他被逐出校，（他的心痛苦地急速跳动。）他应该怎么办呢？如果他向皮箱施法，让它变得像毛一样轻，系在扫帚上，再用大衣掩盖自己飞去伦敦会怎样呢？
他就可以从金库中提到自己的钱，然后就开始流浪的生活。这可是一个可怕的前景，但是他总不能老坐在这里，要是被警察审问他怎么在深夜出走，还带着魔咒书和扫帚。
哈利又打开皮箱，他把里面的东西推到一边，寻找那隐形大衣——但在找到之前，他突然站起来，向他周围又看了看。
他的颈后面有痒痒的感觉，哈利以为有人盯着他，但这街道毫无人影，连那些大房子旁的街灯都没有亮。
他弯下腰看他的皮箱，但立刻他又站起来，手里还紧握着他的魔杖，他是感觉到而并非听到有人或者有些东西站在他后面的车房和栏杆之间的小道。哈利斜视着那小胡同，如果它会动的话，他会知道那是一只猫或其它的。
“噢。”哈利喃喃嘀咕，魔杖一端的灯亮了，他几乎有点昏。他把魔杖举起来，那用卵石筑成的墙突然亮起来了。车房的门开了，哈利看到两扇门之间，清晰地出现了一个又大又阔，发亮的轮廓。
哈利向后退，他的脚踢在皮箱上，摔倒了，他摔倒时他的魔杖从手中飞出去，他在水槽沟里慢慢站起来。
震耳欲聋的一个乐队响起来了，哈利用手捂着眼睛去挡住那刺眼的强光。
他喊了一声，及时滚回到人行道上，一会儿后，一辆很巨大的车还有强光的车灯随着一声尖叫后停下来了。恰恰停在哈利躺着的地方。哈利抬起头才看见原来是一辆有三层甲板的，紫色的巴土，在淡淡的空气中呈现出来。挡风玻璃用金色的字写着“爵士巴士”。
好一会儿，哈利在想是否自己摔傻了。车长穿着紫色的工作服从车上跃下来，在空中对他说话。
“欢迎你来坐爵士巴士，这是紧急巴士，专门乘载手足无策的巫婆或巫师的。
请伸出你的魔杖，走上车，我们可以载你去任何地方，我的名字是西单。什拜克，今天晚上我是你的车长。“
车长突然停下来。这时哈利仍坐在地上，然后拿起他的魔杖重新站起来，走上前，他看到西单。什拜克只比他大几岁，最多是十八九岁，大眼睛向前突出，脸上有几颗青春痘。
“你在这里干什么？”西单问，抛开他那职业性态度。
“摔倒了。”哈利说。
“呵，怎么摔倒了？”西单吃吃地笑。
“我不是故意的。”哈利有点烦了。他膝盖上的牛仔裤被摔破了，摔倒时手也弄伤了，在流血，他迅速转过身去看胡同里的车房和栏杆，爵士巴土的车头灯光芒四射。
“你在看啥呀？”西单问。
“那里有一个大大的黑物体。”哈利不肯定地指向那空隙里，“像一只狗，但是很大。”
他看西单的周围，口微微张开，觉得有点不自然，哈利看到西单的视线移到他额上的疤痕。
“你额上的疤痕是什么回事？”西单唐突地问。
“没什么。”哈利立即说，把头发向疤痕压了压。如果魔法部长正在找他，他不想这么容易就被找到。
“你叫什么名字？”西单坚持着。
“我叫尼维尔。”哈利说，把脑袋中闪过的名字说出来。一这巴士，“他继续说，想转移西单的注意力，”你刚才说他可以开到任何地方？“
“是的。”西单骄傲地说，“只要在陆地去哪都行，但在水中就不能穿行了，啊？”他又怀疑地看着哈利说，“你不大相信？伸出你的魔杖来试一下。”
“好。”哈利立即说，“听着，去伦敦要多少钱？”
“十一个镰刀币。”西单说，“但十三个的话你可以吃巧克力，十五个的话你可以挑任何颜色的水瓶和牙刷。”
哈利又在他的皮箱里搜寻了一会儿，拿出钱包掏出一些银币给西单，然后提起皮箱，头顶部放着海维的笼子平衡着走上巴士。
巴土里面没有座位，但有半打铜床架放在车厢窗帘边。每个床架旁有蜡烛燃烧着，照亮了木窗格的墙，一个带着睡帽的小巫师坐在巴士后面咕噜说：“好了，谢谢，我在检金块。”然后翻过身去睡。
“给你这个。”西单细声说，把哈利的皮箱推到司机的床下，司机正坐在钢轮前的扶手椅子上，“这是我们的司机，伊赖。拜朗，这位是尼维尔。”
伊赖。拜朗是一位巫师前辈，架着很厚的眼镜，他向哈利点点头。
哈利又用手压压额前的头发，然后在他的床上坐下来。
“开车吧，伊赖。”西单说着在伊赖的扶手椅子旁坐下来。
那震耳欲聋的乐队又响起来，跟着哈利已经平躺在自己的床上。
由于爵士巴士在前进，他一直地向床后滑，他坐起来，盯着漆黑的外面，看到他们正向一条完全不同的街道开去。
西单看着哈利惊诧的脸孔有点高兴。
“这就是你挥手叫我们停的地方了。”他说，“我们现在在哪，伊赖？在威尔士吗？”
“哦。”伊赖说。
“怎么那些没有魔法的人注意不到巴土呢？”哈利问。
“他们？”西单轻蔑地说，“不能正常地听，不能正常地看，更别说注意到这巴土了。他们不能的。”
“西单，你最好去叫玛什女士。”伊赖说，“我们很快就到阿伯格里云了。”
西单经过哈利的床，把那个狭长木皮箱藏起来。哈利仍往窗外看，觉得更加紧张了。伊赖好像在炫耀他的车技，爵士巴士在人行道上行驶，但没有撞到任何东西上。一排排的路灯，邮筒和垃圾箱都在巴士靠近的时候自动让开，当车走过后又回到原来的位置。
西单下楼，一个淡青色披着旅游大衣的巫婆跟着他。
“玛什女士，你慢走。”西单高兴地说，这时伊赖踩到车煞车上。
车上的床都向前滑了一尺左右，玛什女士用手夹住围巾，蹒跚下楼，西单帮她拿着包裹送她下车，外面又有一支很吵的乐队，他们在狭窄的小路上大声地演奏着，两旁的树都让出路来。
即使那乐队不在吵，在车时速超过一百英里地飞速驾驶下，他的胃却开始翻滚，他又开始想将会发生什么事在他身上，在想杜斯利一家能否把马各姨妈从天花板上拉下来。
西单打开《先知日报》的复制版，然后卷起舌头读报。在头版中，一个沮丧的男人，长而乱的头发，在向哈利慢慢地眨眼，他看起来很熟。
“那男人！”哈利说，这时候忘了他所烦的事，“他也在马格人的新闻中。”
西单转向报纸的头版咯咯地笑起来。
西单。什拜克，他点点头，“这当然是马格的新闻，尼维尔，你从哪里来的？”
他傲慢地看着哈利的脸又笑了笑，翻过头版把报纸递给哈利。
“你应该多读报纸的，尼维尔。”
哈利把报纸移近蜡烛看。
西里斯。巴拉克可能是阿兹克班监狱中最罪恶的罪犯，他仍在逃亡之中，魔法部长今天确认说。
“我们会尽全力去捉拿巴拉克，”魔法部长法治今天早上时说：“并且我们希望魔法界的人保持冷静。”
法治因为告诉“马格人”的总理这危机而被瓦路克斯的国际联邦的成员批评。
“哦，说真的，我不得不这样做，你们也许不知道。”法治激怒地说，“巴拉克是疯子，谁碰上他都会有危险，不管是巫师还是马格人，总理已经向我保证不会把巴拉克的真正身份泄露给任何人知道。我们面对事实——我们都相信他对吗？”
当人们知道巴拉克持有手枪的时候，那是人们用来杀人用的金属魔杖，魔法界人们的生命如十二年前一样危险，那时候巴拉克只用一道咒语就杀了十三个人了。
哈利看着西里斯。巴拉克无神的眼睛，好像只有沮丧的脸才是活着的一样。哈利从没遇见过吸血鬼。但他在《黑巫术防御》之类的书上见过照片。巴拉克，他像白蜡般的白皮肤看上去就像其中一个。
“很可怕，是吗？”西单向，他一直看着哈利读。
“他杀了十三个人？”哈利把报纸还给西单，时间：“用哪一道咒语？”
“是呀，”西单说，“在大白天，大家都看到了，很严重的事，对吗？
伊赖？“
“哦，是呀！”伊赖答道。
西单旋转着手扶椅子，把手放在背后，更好奇地看着哈利。
“巴拉克是‘那个人’的热烈支持者。”他说。
“什么，福尔得摩特？”哈利不加思索地说。
西单脸上的青春痘发白了。伊赖使劲推着钢方向盘，一间农房子跳到一旁避开这巴土。
“你看那树，”西单又嚷，“你刚才说谁的名？”
“对不起，”哈利匆忙说，“对不起，我忘了——”
“忘了，”西单狠狠地说，“我的耳朵反应也挺快的……”
“你是说巴拉克是‘那个人’的支持者？”哈利抱歉地暗示着。
“是呀，”西单说，仍然擦着他的胸，“是呀，对了。大概是‘那个人’他们说的，怎样也好，哈利·波特挫败了‘那个人’——”哈利紧张地又用手向额上的头发压了压，“‘那个人’的同盟在被缉拿，是吗？
他们都知道玩完了。‘那个人’完蛋时，他们都安静下来了。可西里斯。巴拉克却不是那样，我听说，他认为自己是‘那个人’的第二任总司令，并要接管它。
“”不论如何，他们认为巴拉克在马格拥挤的街上拿出他的魔杖，把街炸开，一个巫师死了，几十个普通人也死掉了，很恐怖，你知道巴拉克做了些什么了吧？“
西单继续像唱戏一般低声说。
“什么？”哈利说。
“笑，”西单说，“当魔法部的强健部队赶到那儿时，他在笑，很大声地发疯般笑，伊赖，他真疯了，是吗？”
“如果不是去了阿兹克班，他现在可能就在这儿了，”伊赖低声说，“如果我像他那样做，我也把自己炸死了，他是该死的……做那么多坏事…”
“他们费很大劲才把他们埋了，伊赖，对吗？”西单说，“欧勒街爆炸，街上的人都死了，伊赖他们说是什么事发生了？”
“煤气爆炸。”伊赖抱怨说。
“现在都知道了。”西单看着报纸上巴拉克的脸又说，“阿兹克班一直没有什么暴乱的，是吗？真吓人呀，我说，我并不是说这是阿兹克班的过失。”
伊赖颤动了一下，“西单，说其他的吧，那儿有个小伙子。那些阿兹克班的卫士真的该头痛。”
西单不情愿地把报纸放在一边，哈利靠在爵士巴士的窗台上，觉得更加糟糕，他不禁在想西单可能有好几个晚上把这些事情告诉乘客们。
“有听过哈利·波特吗？我们也乘载过他，他还想要来驾驶呢——”
哈利像西里斯。巴拉克一样犯规了。让玛各姨妈膨胀会否导致被关到阿兹克班里呢？哈利不大知道巫师的监狱，虽然他也听过人们用同样惊恐的语调谈及过。霍格瓦彻学校的门卫哈格力去年在那儿呆了两个月。哈利不会忘了当哈格力告诉他，他将要去那里时的恐怖面容。哈利是他认识的人中最勇敢的。
那爵士巴士在黑夜中飞奔着，树林、船桩、电话亭和树都为此散开。哈利不安地躺在羽毛铺成的床上。过了一会儿，西单给了哈利一些巧克力。但是车剧烈地摇晃，他把热巧克力倒在哈利的碗上，车正从昂里斯向艾波顿飞驰，一个接一个，巫师和巫婆穿着睡衣和拖鞋从上一层下来，难备离开巴土。他们看上去都很高兴离开。
哈利是最后一个离开。
“好了，尼维尔。”西单拍拍手说：“去伦敦的哪儿？”
“去戴阿宫道。”哈利说。
“好了，”西单说，“抓紧，出发……”
“砰——”
他们在卡荣十字路飞速行驶，哈利坐起来看着一幢幢的大厦和法院挤到一边让爵士巴士行驶，天空开始发亮了。他再坐了几个小时，车门打开他就可以到阿伯格里云了。然后他们又出发，他就不知道了。
伊赖在一间又小又蹩脚的酒吧巴前猛地停下来。到了阿伯格里云了，那后面就是到戴阿宫道的魔门了。
“谢谢。”哈利对伊赖说。
他跳到台阶上，帮助西单放低皮箱和海维的笼子到人行道上。
“好了，”哈利说：“那就再见了。”
但是西单没有注意他。仍然站在上巴土的门口，他斜着眼睛看着他进入阿格伯里云的阴暗的入口。
“哈利，给你。”一个声音说。
哈利还没有转过头来，他感到有一只手按住他的肩膀，同时，西单大声喊：“伊赖，过来，过来这儿。”
哈利抬头看是谁的手，他感觉到好像有一满桶的冰淇淋流入他的胃里。——他已经撞到法治身上，他就是魔法部的部长。
西单跳到人行道上站在他们旁边。
“你刚才怎样叫尼维尔的，部长先生？”他兴奋地说。
法治是一个肥胖而身材矮小的人，穿着细条纹的大衣，显得又冷淡又疲惫。
“尼维尔？”他重复说，皱起眉头来，“他是哈利·波特。”
“我知道了，”西单高兴地大喊，“伊赖，伊赖，猜猜尼维尔是谁，他是哈利。
波特。我看到他的疤痕了。“
“好了！”法治暴躁地说，“很高兴爵士巴土把哈利载到这儿，我现在要进去。”
法治的手在哈利的肩上加压，哈利发现酒吧里的人都盯着他，一个驼背的人提着灯笼从栏杆后面的门走进来。他是店主。
“部长，你把他带来了！”汤姆说，“你要点什么吗？啤酒？白兰地？”
“那就要一壶茶吧。”法治说，他仍然按着哈利。
他们后面传来一阵嘈杂的声音。西单和伊赖又出现了。他们拿着哈利的皮箱和海维的笼子，他们兴奋地向四周看。
“喂，尼维尔，你来了都不告诉我们你是谁？”西单向哈利笑笑，这时伊赖的褐色的脸满有兴趣地从西单肩上看过去。
“汤姆，带我去私人的客厅。”法治尖锐地说。
“再见。”哈利难过地对西单和伊赖说。这时汤姆招呼法治走到那栏杆前面的走廊。
“尼维尔，再见。”西单说。
法治和哈利跟着汤姆的灯笼在狭窄的走廊上走，然后进入一个客厅。汤姆的手指卡塔地响了一下，壁炉上的火烧起来了，他鞠了一个躬后离开了客房。
“哈利坐下吧。”法治指着一张凳子说。
哈利坐下来，虽然有火，他的手臂还是在起鸡皮疙瘩。法治脱下他那细条纹的大衣抛到一旁，然后拉拉那绿色的套衣，在哈利的对面坐下来。
“哈利，我是魔法界的部长法治。”
哈利当然一早就知道了。他以前曾见过法治一次，但因为他那时正穿着他爸爸的隐形大衣，法治并不知道。
店主又出现了，睡衣前围着一条围裙，托着放菜和煎饼的托盘。
他把东西放在法治和哈利之间的桌子上，然后离开客厅，关上门。
“好了，哈利，”法治边倒茶边说，“你打乱了我们的计划了，我并不介意告诉你，你竟然那样从你姨妈、姨丈家跑出来！我开始想……
但为了你自己，那可不是小事。“法治把黄油涂在自己的煎饼上，然后把托盘推向哈利。
“哈利，吃吧，你看上去很累了。没事了，杜斯利小姐的记忆被修改了，她不能再想起那次事件了。因而，没有什么问题了。”
法治对着茶杯边缘向哈利笑了笑，哈利几乎不能相信他的耳朵，他张开口要说些什么，便又想不起来。
“哦，你在担心你姨丈和姨妈的反应？”法治说，“嗯，我不否认他们的确很生气，哈刮，但他们准备明年暑假接你回来，只要你留在霍格瓦彻过圣诞和复活节就行了。”
哈利的喉咙可以说话了。
“我总想留在霍格瓦彻过圣诞节和复活节的。”哈利说，“我也不想回到普里怀特街了。”
“好了，现在我肯定你在冷静下来后感觉又不同了。”法治担心地说。“他们毕竟是你的家人呀，我肯定从此以后你会喜欢他们的。”
哈利没有附和法治。他仍在等着看会有什么事发生在他身上。
“所以现在要做的，”法治一边在第二块煎饼涂黄油一边说，“就是决定在哪儿渡过你暑假的最后两个星期，我建议你在这里的房间住下来，然后……”
“等着，”哈利打断问，“我将会怎样受罚？”
法治眨眨眼。
“受罚？”
“我犯现了，”哈利说，“犯那末成年巫师规则。”
“哦，我的孩子，我们不准备为这样的小事惩罚你。”法治不耐烦地挥着煎饼喊道，“那是偶然的，我们不会把那些只是因为跟他们姨妈闹翻的人关在阿兹克班的。”
“去年因为我把一块布丁扔到我姨丈的房子里就被正式警告片哈利皱着眉头说，”
魔法部说如果我再在那儿施法的话，他们就开除我。“法治突然显得不知所措，除非哈利的眼睛骗了他自己。
“哈利，情况不一样了……我们要考虑……现在的环境，当然你也不想自已被开除吧？”
“当然不想了。”哈利说。
“那好，为何还要大惊小怪的呢？”法治轻松地笑着说，“现在来吃点煎饼，我去找汤姆看看是否可以给你留一间房。”
法治迈出客厅，哈利盯着他出去，事情好像有点奇怪。为什么法治在例格歌注等着他呢？如果不是要惩罚他的话？哈利开始想了，魔法界的部长绝对不会轻易为一个未成年的小魔法师烦恼吧？
法治回来了，店主汤姆也随着来了。
“第八号房是空着的，哈利。”法治说，“我想你会觉得舒服的，还有一件事，我肯定你会理解的，我不想你在马格世界里游荡，懂吗？
留在戴阿官道里面，每天天黑之前回来，你会了解的吧，汤姆会替我看着你的。
“”好的。“哈利慢慢说，”但为什么——“
“我们不想失去你了。”法治开心地笑笑，“不，最好让我们知道你在哪……
我的意思是……“
法治大声地清了一下喉咙，拿起细条纹的大衣。
“好了，我要走了，有很多事干，你该知道的。”
“你在巴拉克案件中碰到运气了吗？”哈利问。
法治的手指在大衣的银色拉链中滑动着。
“那是什么？哦，你看了——好，还没有，这只不过是时间问题而已，他们从没这么生气过。”
法治轻轻战栗着。
“好了，我要说再见了。”
他伸出手，哈利伸手去握，这时他想到一个主意。
“嗯，部长，我可以问你一个问题吗？”
“当然可以。”法治笑笑说。
“在霍格瓦彻三年级可以去霍格马得，但我姨丈姨妈没有在同意书上签名，你可以签吗？”
法治看上去不大自然。
“哦。”他说：“不，不。很抱歉，哈利。因为我不是你的父母或监护人。”
“但是，你是魔法部长。”哈利热切地说，“如果你同意的话——”
“不，哈利，对不起，规矩是规矩。”法治淡淡地说，“也许你明年可以去霍格马得的。实际上，我想这最好如果你不……是的……嗯，我要走了。在这玩得开心点，哈利。”
最后和哈利握握手，笑了笑，法治离开房间了。汤姆向前笑着靠近哈利。
“波特先生，请你跟我来，”他说，“我已经把房间安置好了。”
哈利跟着汤姆走上一条结实的大楼梯，来到镶着三五号门牌的门前，汤姆为哈利打开它。
里面有很舒服的床和一些擦得发亮的橡木家具，烧得很旺的火炉，衣柜上面是——“海维。”哈利喘着气。
那雪白的猫头鹰飞到哈利手臂上，拍动着翅膀。
“真是聪明的猫头鹰。”汤姆吃吃地笑，“你到达五分钟后它就到了。如果你需要些什么，波特先生，请不要客气。”
他向哈利鞠了一躬然后离开了。
哈利在床上坐了很久，心不在焉地轻抚着海维，窗外的天空很快地从柔和、深蓝变成无情的灰色，然后，慢慢地变成带有金色的粉红。
哈利几乎不能相信他在几个小时之前离开了普里怀特街，他不会被开除，而且他可以在以后的日子不受杜斯利的管制了。
“这可是不可思议的一晚，海维。”他打呵欠说。
然后还没有把眼镜摘下来，他已经猛地向枕头一倒，睡着了。
收听单词发音 |
1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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thumping
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| adj.重大的，巨大的；重击的；尺码大的；极好的adv.极端地；非常地v.重击(thump的现在分词)；狠打；怦怦地跳；全力支持 | |
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stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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restriction
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| n.限制，约束 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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outlawed
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| 宣布…为不合法（outlaw的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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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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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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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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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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21
screeched
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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24
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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25
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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pimples
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| n.丘疹，粉刺，小脓疱( pimple的名词复数 ) | |
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27
flattening
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| n. 修平 动词flatten的现在分词 | |
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28
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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29
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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30
illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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31
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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33
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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36
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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37
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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39
tottered
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| v.走得或动得不稳( totter的过去式和过去分词 )；踉跄；蹒跚；摇摇欲坠 | |
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40
rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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41
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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43
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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fortress
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| n.堡垒，防御工事 | |
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45
eluding
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的现在分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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federation
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| n.同盟，联邦，联合，联盟，联合会 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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48
massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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vampire
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| n.吸血鬼 | |
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50
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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51
waxy
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| adj.苍白的；光滑的 | |
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52
farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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53
yelped
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| v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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55
inflating
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| v.使充气（于轮胎、气球等）( inflate的现在分词 )；（使）膨胀；（使）通货膨胀；物价上涨 | |
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56
scattering
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| n.[物]散射；散乱，分散；在媒介质中的散播adj.散乱的；分散在不同范围的；广泛扩散的；（选票）数量分散的v.散射(scatter的ing形式)；散布；驱散 | |
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57
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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58
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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59
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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60
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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61
charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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62
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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63
skidded
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| v.（通常指车辆） 侧滑( skid的过去式和过去分词 )；打滑；滑行；（住在）贫民区 | |
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64
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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65
goggling
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| v.睁大眼睛瞪视， （惊讶的）转动眼珠( goggle的现在分词 ) | |
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66
cascade
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| n.小瀑布，喷流；层叠；vi.成瀑布落下 | |
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67
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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68
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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69
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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70
wizened
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| adj.凋谢的；枯槁的 | |
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71
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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72
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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73
pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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74
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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75
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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77
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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78
punctured
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| v.在（某物）上穿孔( puncture的过去式和过去分词 )；刺穿（某物）；削弱（某人的傲气、信心等）；泄某人的气 | |
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79
blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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80
tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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81
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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82
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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83
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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84
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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85
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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86
velvety
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| adj. 像天鹅绒的, 轻软光滑的, 柔软的 | |
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87
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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88
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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