Mr. Weasley woke them after only a few hours sleep. He used magic to pack up the tents, and they left the campsite as quickly as possible, passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage. Mr. Roberts had a strange, dazed look about him, and he waved them off with a vague “Merry Christmas.”
“He'll be all right,” said Mr. Weasley quietly as they marched off onto the moor1. “Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while…and that was a big thing they had to make him forget.”
They heard urgent voices as they approached the spot where the Portkeys lay, and when they reached it, they found a great number of witches and wizards gathered around Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. Mr. Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil; they joined the queue, and were able to take an old rubber tire back to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had really risen. They walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole and up the damp lane toward the Burrow2 in the dawn light, talking very little because they were so exhausted3, and thinking longingly4 of their breakfast. As they rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.
“Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!”
Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers5, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand.
“Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried -”
She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, Harry6 saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
“You're all right,” Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr. Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, “you're alive.…Oh boys…”
And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.
“Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -”
“I shouted at you before you left!” Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob7. “It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OW.L.s? Oh Fred…George…”
“Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly8 okay,” said Mr. Weasley soothingly9, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. “Bill,” he added in an undertone, “pick up that paper, I want to see what it says…”
When they were all crammed10 into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder.
“I knew it,” said Mr. Weasley heavily. “Ministry12 blunders…culprits not apprehended…lax security…Dark wizards running unchecked…national disgrace.…Who wrote this? Ah…of course…Rita Skeeter.”
“That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!” said Percy furiously. “Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires13! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans -”
“Do us a favor, Perce,” said Bill, yawning, “and shut up.”
“I'm mentioned,” said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the Daily Prophet article.
“Where?” spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. “If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!”
“Not by name,” said Mr. Weasley. “Listen to this: ‘If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance14 from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging15 that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors16 that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains17 to be seen.'.Oh really,” said Mr. Weasley in exasperation18, handing the paper to Percy. “Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods…well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that.”
He heaved a deep sigh. “Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over.”
“I'll come with you, Father,” said Percy importantly. “Mr. Crouch19 will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person.”
He bustled20 out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked most upset.
“Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?”
“I've got to go, Molly,” said Mr. Weasley. “I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off.…”
“Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry suddenly, unable to contain himself, “Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?”
“Hedwig, dear?” said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. “No…no, there hasn't been any post at all.”
Ron and Hermione looked curiously21 at Harry. With a meaningful look at both of them he said, “All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?”
“Yeah…think I will too,” said Ron at once. “Hermione?”
“Yes,” she said quickly, and the three of them marched out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
“What's up, Harry?” said Ron, the moment they had closed the door of the attic22 room behind them.
“There's something I haven't told you,” Harry said. “On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again.”
Ron's and Hermione's reactions were almost exactly as Harry had imagined them back in his bedroom on Privet Drive. Hermione gasped23 and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Ron simply looked dumbstruck.
“But - he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean - last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?”
“I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive,” said Harry. “But I was dreaming about him…him and Peter - you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill…someone.”
He had teetered for a moment on the verge24 of saying “me,” but couldn't bring himself to make Hermione look any more horrified25 than she already did.
“It was only a dream,” said Ron bracingly. “Just a nightmare.”
“Yeah, but was it, though?” said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. “It's weird26, isn't it?…My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again.”
“Don't - say - his - name!” Ron hissed27 through gritted28 teeth.
“And remember what Professor Trelawney said?” Harry went on, ignoring Ron. “At the end of last year?”
Professor Trelawney was their Divination29 teacher at Hogwarts. Hermione's terrified look vanished as she let out a derisive30 snort.
“Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?”
“You weren't there,” said Harry. “You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance - a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again…greater and more terrible than ever before…and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him…and that night Wormtail escaped.”
There was a silence in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons31 bedspread.
“Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?” Hermione asked. “Are you expecting a letter?”
“I told Sirius about my scar,” said Harry, shrugging. “I'm waiting for his answer.”
“Good thinking!” said Ron, his expression clearing. “I bet Sirius'll know what to do!”
“I hoped he'd get back to me quickly,” said Harry.
“But we don't know where Sirius is…he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?” said Hermione reasonably. “Hedwig's not going to manage that journey in a few days.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Harry, but there was a leaden feeling in his stomach as he looked out of the window at the Hedwig-free sky.
“Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard32, Harry” said Ron. “Come on - three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play.…You can try out the Wronski Feint.…”
“Ron,” said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, “Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now.…He's worried, and he's tired.…We all need to go to bed…”
“Yeah, I want to play Quidditch,” said Harry suddenly. “Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt.”
Hermione left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like “Boys.”
* * * * * *
Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.
“It's been an absolute uproar,” Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. “I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch34 marks all over my desk and my best quill35 reduced to cinders36.”
“Why are they all sending Howlers?” asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi37 with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.
“Complaining about security at the World Cup,” said Percy. “They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped38 on sticks.”
Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. Harry liked this clock. It was completely useless if you wanted to know the time, but otherwise very informative39. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved40 with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. “Home,” “school,” and “work” were there, but there was also “traveling,” “lost,” “hospital,” “prison,” and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, “mortal peril41.”
Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the “home” position, but Mr. Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing to “work.” Mrs. Weasley sighed.
“Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who,” she said. “They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon.”
“Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?” said Percy. “If truth be told, he was a tad unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first -”
“Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!” said Mrs. Weasley, flaring42 up at once.
“If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented,” said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron. “Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts’ Charm Breakers once, and called me ‘a long-haired pillock'?”
“Well, it is a bit long, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley gently. “If you'd just let me -”
“No, Mum.”
Rain lashed43 against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley44. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit11 Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred and George were sitting in a far corner, quills45 out, talking in whispers, their heads bent46 over a piece of parchment.
“What are you two up to?” said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.
“Homework,” said Fred vaguely47.
“Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday,” said Mrs. Weasley.
“Yeah, we've left it a bit late,” said George.
“You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?” said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. “You wouldn't be thinking of restarting Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes48, by any chance?”
“Now, Mum,” said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. “If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation49?”
Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.
“Oh your father's coming!” she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.
Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun50 from “work” to “traveling"; a second later it had shuddered51 to a halt on “home” with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.
“Coming, Arthur!” called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.
A few moments later, Mr. Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.
“Well, the fat's really in the fire now,” he told Mrs. Weasley as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth52 and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shriveled cauliflower. “Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the Prophet tomorrow. I told Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago.”
“Mr. Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks,” said Percy swiftly.
“Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky,” said Mr. Weasley irritably53. “There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured55 the Dark Mark.”
“I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did not conjure54 the Mark?” said Percy hotly.
“If you ask me, Mr. Crouch is very lucky no one at the Daily Prophet knows how mean he is to elves!” said Hermione angrily.
“Now look here, Hermione!” said Percy. “A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr. Crouch deserves unswerving obedience56 from his servants -”
“His slave, you mean!” said Hermione, her voice rising passionately57, “because he didn't pay Winky, did he?”
“I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!” said Mrs. Weasley, breaking up the argument. “Come on now, all of you.…”
Harry repacked his broomstick servicing kit, put his Firebolt over his shoulder, and went back upstairs with Ron. The rain sounded even louder at the top of the house, accompanied by loud whistlings and moans from the wind, not to mention sporadic58 howls from the ghoul who lived in the attic. Pigwidgeon began twittering and zooming59 around his cage when they entered. The sight of the half-packed trunks seemed to have sent him into a frenzy60 of excitement.
“Bung him some Owl33 Treats,” said Ron, throwing a packet across to Harry. “It might shut him up.”
Harry poked61 a few Owl Treats through the bars of Pigwidgeon's cage, then turned to his trunk. Hedwig's cage stood next to it, still empty.
“It's been over a week,” Harry said, looking at Hedwig's deserted62 perch63. “Ron, you don't reckon Sirius has been caught, do you?”
“Nah, it would've been in the Daily Prophet,” said Ron. “The Ministry would want to show they'd caught someone, wouldn't they?”
“Yeah, I suppose.…”
“Look, here's the stuff Mum got for you in Diagon Alley. And she's got some gold out of your vault64 for you…and she's washed all your socks.”
He heaved a pile of parcels onto Harry's camp bed and dropped the money bag and a load of socks next to it. Harry started unwrapping the shopping. Apart from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, by Miranda Goshawk, he had a handful of new quills, a dozen rolls of parchment, and refills for his potion-making kit - he had been running low on spine65 of lionfish and essence of belladonna. He was just piling underwear into his cauldron when Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind him.
“What is that supposed to be?”
He was holding up something that looked to Harry like a long, maroon66 velvet67 dress. It had a moldy-looking lace frill at the collar and matching lace cuffs68.
There was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Weasley entered, carrying an armful of freshly laundered69 Hogwarts robes.
“Here you are,” she said, sorting them into two piles. “Now, mind you pack them properly so they don't crease70.”
“Mum, you've given me Ginny's new dress,” said Ron, handing it out to her.
“Of course I haven't,” said Mrs. Weasley. “That's for you. Dress robes.”
“What?” said Ron, looking horror-struck.
“Dress robes!” repeated Mrs. Weasley. “It says on your school list that you're supposed to have dress robes this year…robes for formal occasions.”
“You've got to be kidding,” said Ron in disbelief. “I'm not wearing that, no way.”
“Everyone wears them, Ron!” said Mrs. Weasley crossly. “They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!”
“I'll go starkers before I put that on,” said Ron stubbornly.
“Don't be so silly,” said Mrs. Weasley. “You've got to have dress robes, they're on your list! I got some for Harry too…show him, Harry.…”
In some trepidation71, Harry opened the last parcel on his camp bed. It wasn't as bad as he had expected, however; his dress robes didn't have any lace on them at all - in fact, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were bottle green instead of black.
“I thought they'd bring out the color of your eyes, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley fondly.
“Well, they're okay!” said Ron angrily, looking at Harry's robes. “Why couldn't I have some like that?”
“Because…well, I had to get yours secondhand, and there wasn't a lot of choice!” said Mrs. Weasley, flushing.
Harry looked away. He would willingly have split all the money in his Gringotts vault with the Weasleys, but he knew they would never take it.
“I'm never wearing them,” Ron was saying stubbornly. “Never.”
“Fine,” snapped Mrs. Weasley. “Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh.”
She left the room, slamming the door behind her. There was a funny spluttering noise from behind them. Pigwidgeon was choking on an overlarge Owl Treat.
“Why is everything I own rubbish?” said Ron furiously, striding across the room to unstick Pigwidgeon's beak72.
他们睡了没多久，威斯里先生就把他们叫醒了，他用魔法把帐篷收了起来，然后他尽可能快的离开了露营地。在罗伯特先生的石屋门前，他们遇上了他，罗伯特先生用奇怪的眼光盯着威斯里先生，然后他一边作手势，一边含糊的说了声“圣诞快乐”。
“他很快就没事的。”威斯里先生很快的说，然后他们进了沼泽地。有时候，当一个人的记忆受到限制时，他就会变得有点不知方向……要让他忘记，那就难了。
当他们到达放着波奇的地方时，他们听到紧急的呼声并且发现许多女巫和男巫在贝希尔周围（贝希尔是波奇的守护人）。他们都狂叫着要尽可能快的离开露营地。威斯里先生跟贝希尔很快的商量了一下，他们加入到队伍中去，并能够在太阳真正升起之前拿到一个旧的橡胶轮船到石头山去。在黎明的微光中，他们穿过奥特里卡波街向穴口走去。他们太累了，所以很少说话，一心想着他们的早餐。当穴口就在眼前时，突然从潮湿的小道上传来一声尖叫的回声。
“噢，感谢上帝，感谢上帝！”
威斯里夫人显然已经在院子前在等他们。她跑向他们，还穿着拖鞋，脸色苍白而严肃，手中紧紧的抓着一张《先知日报》：“亚瑟——我好担心，好担心……”
她用她的手臂紧紧的绕在威斯里先生的脖上，那份《先知日报》也掉到地上去了。哈利往下一看，看到正面的标题：“快迪斯世界杯的恐怖场景”，还附一张从树顶拍的黑色标记的黑白照片，那照片上黑色标记闪闪发光。
“你们都好吧？”威斯里夫人放开威斯里先生，低声说着，眼睛红红的盯着他们看，“你们都还活着……，噢，孩子们……”
让每个人都吃惊的是，她抓住弗来德和乔治，把他们推到一块，挨得紧紧的，以至他们的头碰了头。
“噢！妈妈——你会勒死我们的——”
“你们走的时候，我嘱咐过你们！”威斯里夫人开始抽泣着说，“我只是想着，如果‘那个人’害了你们，我说的最后一件事将是你们还没有得到足够的O.W.L吗？噢，弗来德……乔治……”
“好了，摩莉，我们现在非常非常好，行了吗？”威斯里先生抚慰着她，让她离开那对双胞胎，带着她向家里走去。“比尔，”他低声说道。“把那张报纸拣起来，我想知道上面说些什么……”
当他们都挤到厨房里后，荷米恩给威斯里先生冲了一杯浓茶。
威斯里先生坚持要加一些老威士忌过去。比尔这时把那张报纸给了他爸爸。威斯里先生扫了一眼头版，伯希也从他肩上望了过去看着。
“我知道了，”威斯里先生沉重的说，“内阁犯下大错……犯人没有被逮捕……安全被疏忽了……黑巫师不可抑止的狂奔……国家耻辱……谁写的？啊……当然是……理特。史姬特”。
“那个女人乱造魔法部的谣！”伯希恼怒地说，“上星期她还说我们浪费时间挑大汽锅厚度的毛病，说我们应该找出诈骗者。好像那些都没有在‘关于处理非巫师的规定’的第十二段特殊注明似的。”‘“伯希，请帮帮忙，”比尔一边说一边打着哈欠，“请住嘴。”
“我也被提到了，”威斯里先生说道，他的眼镜下的眼睛睁得大大的，视线落到了《先知日报》底部的文章。
“哪里？”威斯里夫人激动地说，被她的茶和威士忌呛着了。
“如果我看到了那篇章，我就会知道你们还活着的！”
“没有指名道姓，”威斯里先生说，“听这段话，‘如果那些受惊的女巫和男巫们——他们正在树林边屏住呼吸的听消息——预料到魔法部的再次保证，他们会很伤心，很失望的，一个内阁官员在黑色标记出现后露过一次面，声称没有人受伤，便拒绝泄露任何其它消息。这个声明是否能粉碎那个说一小时后将有许多人被转移的谣言，这还有待进一步观察。”’“噢，真的吗！”威斯里先生恼怒地说着，把报纸递给了伯希，“没有人受伤，那我还能说什么？谣言说许多人将被转移出树林……这下好了，她这样一写，当然会有谣言了。”
他长叹一声，说：“摩莉，我得去一趟办公室，这一次是为了澄清一下。”
“我要跟你一起去，爸爸，”伯希很郑重地说。“劳克斯先生会需要各种人手来帮忙的，我可以亲自给他提供汽锅的报告。”
他催促着走出了厨房。
威斯里夫人看起来很伤心。“亚瑟，你应该是在度假啊！这事跟你的公事毫无关系，没有你，他们肯定也能解决的！”
“我必须去，摩莉，”威斯里先生答道，“是我使事情变得更糟的，我要换制服，现在就走……”
“威斯里夫人，”哈利突然说，自己确定地问，“海维还没有送信给我，是吗？”
“海维，亲爱的，”威斯里夫人迷惑地说：“不……不，根本没有什么信。”
罗恩和荷米恩好奇地看着哈利。
他带着某种含意的望着他们说：“如果我去把我的东西放到你房间，可不可以，罗恩？”
“是的……我也这么想。”罗恩马上说，“荷米恩？”
“是的。”她很快地答道，然后他们三个就出了厨房，爬上楼去了。
“怎么回事，哈利？”罗恩问道他们在阁楼把门给关了。
“我有些事没告诉你们，”哈利说道，“星期天早上，我睡醒时，我的疤开始疼了。”
罗恩和荷米恩的反应跟哈利在布莱维特时所想象的差不多，荷米恩一边喘着气一边开始提建议，提出了一系列的参考书和咨询人，从艾伯斯。丹伯多到波姆弗雷夫人——霍格瓦彻保姆。
罗恩惊呆了，“但是——他不在那里，不是吗？‘那个人’？我的意思是——上次你的伤疤正疼的时候，他在霍格瓦彻，不是吗？”
“我肯定他不在普里怀特，”哈利说，“但我梦到了他……他和彼得——你知道，温太尔，我记不清所有事情了，但他们正谋划着去杀……某个人。”
他在要说到“我”时，停住了。但这也没有罗恩令荷米恩放心，而且觉得更害怕。
“那只是个梦，”罗恩激动地说，“只是个恶梦。”
“是的，但它毕竟是！”哈利说，转身望着窗外正逐渐变得明朗的天空。“很奇怪，不是吗？……我的伤疤疼起来了。三天后食尸者们就开始活动起来，福尔得摩特的标记又在天空呈现。”
“不要说他的名字！”罗恩咬着牙说道。
“记得特雷络尼教授说过什么吗？”哈利继续说道，不理会罗思，“去年年底？”
特雷络尼教授是他们在霍格瓦彻的神学老师。
荷米恩恐惧的表情消失了，她放意吸了吸鼻子，说：“噢，哈利，你不会对那些骗人的故事感兴趣吧？”
“你不在那里，”哈利说道，“你没有听到怎么说，这次不用了，我告诉你，她进入神游——一次真正的神游。她说黑爵士会再次出现……和以前更强大更恐怖。他会成功的，因为他的仆人将会回到他身办……而那天晚上温太尔逃走了。”
大家安静了下来，罗恩烦躁不安，心神不宁，直望着他那库得利加能床单的一个洞。
“如果海维回来的话，你有什么要问，哈利？”荷米恩问道：“你等着一封信？”
“我告诉了西里斯有关我的伤疤的事。”哈利答道。耸了耸肩，“我在等他的回复。”
“好主意！”罗恩说道，他的表情变得明朗起来。“我敢打赌，西里斯肯定知道该怎么做！”
“我希望他能尽快回来。”哈利说道。
“但我们不知道西里斯在哪儿……他可能会在非洲，或什么别的地方，不是吗？”荷米恩理智地说。海维不可能在短短几天内到来的。
“是的，我知道。”哈利说道，但在他的心里，有一种沉闷、沮丧的感觉，他透过窗户向海推自由翱翔的天空望去。
“来果园玩快迪斯游戏吧，哈利，”罗恩叫道，“来吧——三对三，比尔、查理和弗来德。乔治将玩……”
“罗恩，”荷米恩用一种“你一点也不理智”的口吻说道，“哈利现在不想玩快迪斯……他很担心，而且他也很累了……我们都想去睡觉。”
“不，我想玩快迪斯。”哈利突然说道，“等一下，我去拿我的火螺丝。”
荷米恩离开了房间，一路含糊地说着什么，好像是说“男孩子们”之类的东西。
接下来的一个星期，威斯里先生和伯希都不在家。每天他们都是在全家起来之前离开，晚饭后才回来。
“这显然是一场骚乱，”在他们回霍格瓦彻前的星期天晚上，伯希郑重其事地对他们说：“我已经努力去平息了，人们还是继续寄咆哮弹来，当然，如果你不直接打开咆哮弹，它就会爆炸，烧焦的印记在我桌上到处都是。我最好的羽毛笔已经成了灰。”
“为什么他们要寄咆哮弹？”金妮问道，她正走在居室炉火前的地毯上用咒符胶贴她的那本《一千种魔法草药和菌类》。
“他们对世界杯赛的安全措施感到不满而抱怨，”伯希答道，“他们要求对他们被损坏的财产进行补偿。曼丹塔斯。弗雷斯的要求得到一套十二个睡房的，带史威特的帐篷。但我已经得到他的实际情况了。我知道，事实上，他当时睡在一个棍子支撑起来的斗篷底下。”
威斯里先生看看角落里的老爷钟。哈利喜欢这座钟，虽然你想从它身上知道时间的话，它毫无用处，但它很有价值。它有九个金指针，每一个指针上都有威斯里家族中一个人的名字。在钟表面没有数字，显示着每一个家庭成员可能在的地方。有“家”，“学校”
和“工作”，但也有“失踪”，“医院”，“监狱”关且在普通钟数字12应该在的地方，有“致命的危险”的字样。有八个指钟正指在“家”的位置，但那个最长的指针，代表威斯里先生的，还指着“工作”，威斯里太太叹了口气：“咱从‘那个人’事件之后，你们的爸爸就得周末在办公室了，”她说道，“他们让他工作得太多了，他如果不马上回来的话，他的晚餐又泡汤了。”
“爸爸是想为他在比赛时的过失弥补点什么吗？”伯希说道，“事实上，他在他向部门内部澄清之前就对公众作出声明有一点不明智——”
“不要因为那个可恶的女人史姬特写的东西而指责你爸爸！”威斯里太太马上激动地反驳道。
“如果爸爸什么都不说，老理特又会说内阁没有人出来作出解释，这是很耻辱的事情，”比尔说道，他正和罗恩下棋，“理特。史姬特让谁都没面子，记得她采访了所有的格林高斯咒语的破除者，还叫我是长头发的蠢猪。”
“噢，亲爱的，稍微长了一点。”威斯里太太说道，“如果你肯让我——”
“不，妈妈。”
雨敲打着起居室的窗户，荷米恩沉迷在《标准符咒课本。四年级》那本书里，那是威斯里太太、哈利和罗恩在迪安更。安利买的。
查理正在缝一条防火用长头巾，哈利正在给他的火炮枪上油。荷米恩送给他的十三岁生日礼物扫帚的配套原件被打开了，放在他的脚边。弗来德和乔治正在较远的一个角落，剔着牙，悄悄地说着话，他们的头凑在一张羊皮纸上。
“你们两个在干什么？”威斯里太太尖声说道，她的眼尖地落在这对双胞胎身上。
“家庭作业！”弗来德含糊地答道。
“别傻了，你正在度假期！”威斯里太太说道。
“是，我们已经迟做了。”乔治答道。
“你们不是要写出一个新的订单吧？”威斯里太太敏感地问。
“你们不会想着重新开始吧？”
“妈妈，”弗来德说道，抬起头来看着她，脸上带着痛苦的神情，“如果明天，霍格瓦彻快车撞毁，乔治和我死了，当你知道我们最后听到的竟是毫无根据的指责，你会怎么想？”
每个人都笑了起来，甚至连威斯里太太也是。
“噢，你的爸爸回来了！”她突然说，再次看了一下钟。
威斯里先生的指钟突然从“工作”跳到“旅行”，一秒钟后，又突然跳到了“家”，跟其它人的在一起，他们听到他从厨房里叫他们。
“来了，亚瑟！”威斯里太太一边说，一边起身从房间里出来了。
不一会儿，威斯里已经来到了温暖的起居室，手里拿着装着的晚餐的碟子，他看起来累极了。
“现在，真是麻烦了。”他一边对威斯里太太说，一边坐在火炉的扶手椅上，没精打采地玩弄着像花菜一样的皱着的东西，“理特。
史姬特整个星期都在搜索资料，希望找到内阁乱成一团糟的报道，她现在已经找出可怜的珀茜失踪的消息了，这将会是明天《先知日报》的头条，我已经告诉巴格蒙，叫他派人去找她。“
“克劳斯先生已经一而再、再而三地说过了。”伯希很快地说道。
“克劳斯很幸运，理特还没有发现温奇的事。”威斯里先生恼怒地说，“他的精灵被人发现拿着放出黑色标记的魔杖，这将会成为整个星期的头条。”
“我相信我们都同意，尽管那个精灵不理智，但它确实没有放出标记吧？”伯希恼火地说道。
“如果你问我，那克劳斯先生真是幸运，《先知日报》居然不知道他对小精灵做了什么！”荷米恩生气地说。
“你看，荷米恩！”伯希说道，“一个内阁高官，像克劳斯这样的，应该得到他佣人忠实的顺从！”
“他的奴隶——你的意思！”荷米恩说道，她的嗓声提得很尖，“因为温奇没有酬劳，不是吗？”
“我想你们最好上楼去检查一下你是否都打好包了！”威斯里太太说道，打断了争执，“来吧，你们……”
哈利再次包了一下他的扫帚配套原件，把他的魔杖束在腰间，然后和罗恩一起上楼去了。屋顶的雨听起来似乎更大了，风随着雨呼啸吹过，更不用说阁楼里住的鬼偶尔的嚎叫了。皮威军开始颤抖，当他们进来时，它在笼子旁叫着，当它看到半打开的箱子，它似乎变得狂喜。
“给它一些猫头鹰食。”罗恩说道，把一个袋子扔给哈利，这该会让它闭嘴！
哈利扔了些猫头鹰食到皮威军的笼子里，然后转身向着他的箱子，海维的笼子在它的旁边，还空着。
“已经一个星期了，”哈利也说，一边看着海维废弃的栖身处，“罗恩，你不能断定西里斯已经被抓了，不是吗？”
“没有，如果是的话，《先知日报》应该会报导，”罗恩说道，“内阁应该想显示他们已经抓到了什么人，是不是？”
“是的，我想……”
“看，这是妈妈从迪安更。安利给你带的东西，她从你的地下室找到了一些金子给你……她已经把你所有的袜子都洗了。”
他提起一堆包裹放到哈利的床上，拿出一些钱袋和一堆袜子，放在旁边，哈利开始打开买来的东西：除了玛丽达。高斯沃的《四年级标准符咒书》之外，他还有一大把新羽毛笔，十二卷羊皮纸，他的药箱也被装满了，他已经对狮子鱼的脊柱和颠茄剂不感兴趣了。正当他把内衣往大汽锅里塞时，罗恩在他身后发出一种厌恶的声音：“妈妈要干什么？”
他手里正拿着件长长的茶色天鹅绒的礼服。这衣服的衣领褶边的饰带似乎发霉了。袖口也有同样的饰带。
这时响起了敲门声，威斯里夫人进来了，手里拿了很多刚烫好的霍格瓦彻外套。
“给你的，”她一边说，一边把衣服分成两叠，“小心把它们放好，以免弄皱了。”
“妈妈，你把金妮的新衣给我了。”罗恩说到，同时把衣服递给她。
“当然没有，”威斯里太太再重复了一下，“听说你们学校今年要求你们穿制服……在正式场合穿的制服。”
“你一定是开玩笑吧，”罗恩难以置信地说道，“我从没听说过，不可能。”
“每个人都得穿，罗恩！”威斯里太太不高兴地说，“他们都是这样，你们跟你爸爸一样！”
“我穿上它会疯的。”罗恩执拗地说。
“别这样傻了。”威斯里太太说道，“你必须穿制服，它们在你的计划内，我还给哈利买了一些……给他看看，哈利……”
一阵惊恐，哈利打开了在他床上的最后一个包裹，跟他预料的一样糟，但他的制服根本没有什么饰带，事实上，或多或少地有点像他的校服，除了它们是玻璃绿而不是黑色的外。
“我想它们就像你眼睛的颜色，亲爱的。”威斯里太太打趣地说。
“它们还可以！”罗恩生气地说，看着哈利的制服，又说到，“我为什么不能有这种衣服？”
“因为……我得给你二手的，而这没多少可供选择！”威斯里太太红着脸答道。
哈利转移了视线，他愿意与大家分享他在格林高斯银行里的所有钱，但他知道他们不会要的。
“我不会穿他们的！”罗恩固执地说，“永远不会！”
“好！”威斯里太太大声说道，“别穿衣服，哈利给他照张像，天知道，我会一边干活一边笑的。”
她离开房间，他们背后发出一阵气急败坏的可笑的声音——皮威军被一块大的猫头鹰食给噎住了。
“为什么我的东西都是垃圾？”罗恩气恼之极地说着，大步地走过去掰开皮威军的嘴。
收听单词发音 |
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moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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burrow
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| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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vampires
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| n.吸血鬼( vampire的名词复数 )；吸血蝠；高利贷者；（舞台上的）活板门 | |
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reassurance
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| n.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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alleging
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| 断言，宣称，辩解( allege的现在分词 ) | |
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rumors
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| n.传闻( rumor的名词复数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷v.传闻( rumor的第三人称单数 )；[古]名誉；咕哝；[古]喧嚷 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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bustled
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| 闹哄哄地忙乱，奔忙( bustle的过去式和过去分词 )； 催促 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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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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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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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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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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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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divination
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| n.占卜，预测 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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cannons
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| n.加农炮，大炮，火炮( cannon的名词复数 ) | |
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orchard
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| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
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owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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scorch
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| v.烧焦，烤焦；高速疾驶；n.烧焦处，焦痕 | |
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quill
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| n.羽毛管；v.给（织物或衣服）作皱褶 | |
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cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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fungi
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| n.真菌，霉菌 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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informative
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| adj.提供资料的，增进知识的 | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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42
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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43
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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44
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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quills
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| n.（刺猬或豪猪的）刺( quill的名词复数 )；羽毛管；翮；纡管 | |
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46
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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48
wheezes
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| n.喘息声( wheeze的名词复数 )v.喘息，发出呼哧呼哧的喘息声( wheeze的第三人称单数 ) | |
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49
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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51
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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52
hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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53
irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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54
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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56
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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sporadic
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| adj.偶尔发生的 [反]regular；分散的 | |
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59
zooming
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| adj.快速上升的v.（飞机、汽车等）急速移动( zoom的过去分词 )；（价格、费用等）急升，猛涨 | |
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60
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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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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perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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spine
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| n.脊柱，脊椎；(动植物的)刺；书脊 | |
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maroon
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| v.困住，使（人）处于孤独无助之境；n.逃亡黑奴；孤立的人；酱紫色，褐红色；adj.酱紫色的，褐红色的 | |
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67
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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68
cuffs
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| n.袖口( cuff的名词复数 )v.掌打，拳打( cuff的第三人称单数 ) | |
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69
laundered
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| v.洗（衣服等），洗烫（衣服等）( launder的过去式和过去分词 )；洗（黑钱）（把非法收入改头换面，变为貌似合法的收入） | |
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crease
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| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
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71
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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72
beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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