Harry did not want to tell the others that he and Luna were having the same hallucination, if that was what it was, so he said nothing more about the horses as he sat down inside the carriage and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless, he could not help watching the silhouettes of the horses moving beyond the window.
‘Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?’ asked Ginny. ‘What's she doing back here? Hagrid can't have left, can he?’
‘I'll be quite glad if he has,’ said Luna, ‘he isn't a very good teacher, is he?’
‘Yes, he is!’ said Harry, Ron and Ginny angrily.
Harry glared at Hermione. She cleared her throat and quickly said, ‘Erm ... yes ... he's very good.’
‘Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke,’ said Luna, unfazed.
‘You've got a rubbish sense of humour then,’ Ron snapped, as the wheels below them creaked into motion.
Luna did not seem perturbed by Ron's rudeness; on the contrary, she simply watched him for a while as though he were a mildly interesting television programme.
Rattling and swaying, the carriages moved in convoy up the road. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds, Harry leaned forwards to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were in complete darkness. Hogwarts Castle, however, loomed ever closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet black against the dark sky, here and there a window blazing fiery bright above them.
The carriages jingled to a halt near the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors and Harry got out of the carriage first. He turned again to look for lit windows down by the Forest, but there was definitely no sign of life within Hagrid's cabin. Unwillingly, because he had half-hoped they would have vanished, he turned his eyes instead upon the strange, skeletal creatures standing quietly in the chill night air, their blank white eyes gleaming.
Harry had once before had the experience of seeing something that Ron could not, but that had been a reflection in a mirror, something much more insubstantial than a hundred very solid-looking beasts strong enough to pull a fleet of carriages. If Luna was to be believed, the beasts had always been there but invisible. Why, then, could Harry suddenly see them, and why could Ron not?
‘Are you coming or what?’ said Ron beside him.
‘Oh ... yeah,’ said Harry quickly and they joined the crowd hurrying up the stone steps into the castle.
The Entrance Hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast.
The four long house tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes. Again, Harry noticed people putting their heads together to whisper as he passed; he gritted his teeth and tried to act as though he neither noticed nor cared.
Luna drifted away from them at the Ravenclaw table. The moment they reached Gryffindor's, Ginny was hailed by some fellow fourth-years and left to sit with them; Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville found seats together about halfway down the table between Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor house ghost, and Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly-friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before. He had more important things to worry about, however: he was looking over the students’ heads to the staff table that ran along the top wall of the Hall.
‘He's not there.’
Ron and Hermione scanned the staff table too, though there was no real need; Hagrid's size made him instantly obvious in any lineup.
‘He can't have left,’ said Ron, sounding slightly anxious.
‘Of course he hasn't,’ said Harry firmly.
‘You don't think he's ... hurt, or anything, do you?’ said Hermione uneasily.
‘No,’ said Harry at once.
‘But where is he, then?’
There was a pause, then Harry said very quietly, so that Neville, Parvati and Lavender could not hear, ‘Maybe he's not back yet. You know—from his mission—the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore.’
‘Yeah ... yeah, that'll be it,’ said Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bit her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence.
‘Who's that?’ she said sharply, pointing towards the middle of the staff table.
Harry's eyes followed hers. They lit first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear. She looked, Harry thought, like somebody's maiden aunt: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and he saw, with a shock of recognition, a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.
‘It's that Umbridge woman!’
‘Who?’ said Hermione.
‘She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!’
‘Nice cardigan,’ said Ron, smirking.
‘She works for Fudge!’ Hermione repeated, frowning. ‘What on earth's she doing here, then?’
‘Dunno ...’
Hermione scanned the staff table, her eyes narrowed.
‘No,’ she muttered, ‘no, surely not ...’
Harry did not understand what she was talking about but did not ask; his attention had been caught by Professor Grubbly-Plank who had just appeared behind the staff table; she worked her way along to the very end and took the seat that ought to have been Hagrid's. That meant the first-years must have crossed the lake and reached the castle, and sure enough, a few seconds later, the doors from the Entrance Hall opened. A long line of scared-looking first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall, who was carrying a stool on which sat an ancient wizards hat, heavily patched and darned with a wide rip near the frayed brim.
The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.
The first-years’ faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. Harry recalled, fleetingly, how terrified he had felt when he had stood there, waiting for the unknown test that would determine to which house he belonged.
The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:
In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
‘Together we will build and teach!’
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might some day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, ‘We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.’
Said Ravenclaw, ‘We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest. ’
Said Gryffindor, ‘We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name, ’
Said Hufflepuff, ‘I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same. ’
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with duelling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came c morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you ...
Let the Sorting now begin.
The Hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured, for the first time in Harry's memory, with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbours, and Harry, clapping along with everyone else, knew exactly what they were talking about.
‘Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?’ said Ron, his eyebrows raised.
‘Too right it has,’ said Harry.
The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the different qualities looked for by each of the four Hogwarts houses and its own role in Sorting them. Harry could not remember it ever trying to give the school advice before.
‘I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?’ said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.
‘Yes, indeed,’ said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably, leaning across Neville towards her (Neville winced; it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you). ‘The Hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels—’
But Professor McGonagall, who was waiting to read out the list of first-years’ names, was giving the whispering students the sort of look that scorches. Nearly Headless Nick placed a see-through finger to his lips and sat primly upright again as the muttering came to an abrupt end. With a last frowning look that swept the lour house tables, Professor McGonagall lowered her eyes to her long piece of parchment and called out the first name.
‘Abercrombie, Euan.’
The terrified-looking boy Harry had noticed earlier stumbled forwards and put the Hat on his head; it was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The Hat considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted:
‘Gryffindor!’
Harry clapped loudly with the rest of Gryffindor house as Euan Abercrombie staggered to their table and sat down, looking as though he would like very much to sink through the floor and never be looked at again.
Slowly, the long line of first-years thinned. In the pauses between the names and the Sorting Hat's decisions, Harry could hear Ron's stomach rumbling loudly. Finally, ‘Zeller, Rose’ was Sorted into Hufflepuff, and Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet.
Whatever his recent bitter feelings had been towards his Headmaster, Harry was somehow soothed to see Dumbledore standing before them all. Between the absence of Hagrid and the presence of those dragonish horses, he had felt that his return to Hogwarts, so long anticipated, was full of unexpected surprises, like jarring notes in a familiar song. But this, at least, was how it was supposed to be: their Headmaster rising to greet them all before the start-of-term feast.
‘To our newcomers,’ said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, ‘welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!’
There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate—for food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.
‘Excellent,’ said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them on to his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.
‘What were you saying before the Sorting?’ Hermione asked the ghost. ‘About the Hat giving warnings?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. ‘Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.’
‘Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?’ said Ron.
His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.
‘I beg your pardon?’ said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, ‘How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Nearly Headless Nick. ‘Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.’
‘And it wants all the houses to be friends?’ said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. ‘Fat chance.’
‘Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude,’ said Nick reprovingly. ‘Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.’
‘Only because you're terrified of him,’ said Ron.
Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.
‘Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins—’
‘What blood?’ asked Ron. ‘Surely you haven't still got—?’
‘It's a figure of speech!’ said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. ‘I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!’
‘Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!’ said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.
Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was ‘Node iddum eentup sechew,’ which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.
‘Well done, Ron,’ snapped Hermione.
‘What?’ said Ron indignantly, having managed, finally, to swallow his food. ‘I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?’
‘Oh, forget it,’ said Hermione irritably, and the pair of them spent the rest of the meal in huffy silence.
Harry was too used to their bickering to bother trying to reconcile them; he felt it was a better use of his time to eat his way steadily through his steak and kidney pie, then a large plateful of his favourite treacle tart.
When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the Hall was starting to creep upwards again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the Headmaster. Harry was feeling pleasantly drowsy now. His four-poster bed was waiting somewhere above, wonderfully warm and soft ...
‘Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,’ said Dumbledore. ‘First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students—and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.’ (Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged smirks.)
‘Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.
‘We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.’
There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged slightly panicked looks; Dumbledore had not said for how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching.
Dumbledore continued, ‘Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the—’
He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, ‘Hem, hem,’ and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.
Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; this woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.
‘Thank you, Headmaster,’ Professor Umbridge simpered, ‘for those kind words of welcome.’
Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish and, again, Harry felt a powerful rush of dislike that he could not explain to himself; all he knew was that he loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough ('hem, hem') and continued.
‘Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!’ She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. ‘And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!’
Harry glanced around. None of the faces he could see looked happy. On the contrary, they all looked rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.
‘I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!’
Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.
‘I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan,’ Parvati whispered to Lavender, and both of them lapsed into silent giggles.
Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.
The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.’
Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bowed back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gave another little ‘hem, hem’ and went on with her speech.
‘Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation ...’
Harry found his attentiveness ebbing, as though his brain was slipping in and out of tune. The quiet that always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Over on the Ravenclaw table Cho Chang was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again. Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff table Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy-eyed and Harry was sure he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect's badge gleaming on his chest.
Professor Umbridge did not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Harry had the impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have ploughed on with her speech. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Hermione seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke, though, judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste.
‘... because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.’
She sat down. Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.
‘Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,’ he said, bowing to her. ‘Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held ...’
‘Yes, it certainly was illuminating,’ said Hermione in a low voice.
‘You're not telling me you enjoyed it?’ Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face towards Hermione. ‘That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy.’
‘I said illuminating, not enjoyable,’ said Hermione. ‘It explained a lot.’
‘Did it?’ said Harry in surprise. ‘Sounded like a load of waffle to me.’
There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle,’ said Hermione grimly.
‘Was there?’ said Ron blankly.
‘How about: “progress for progress's sake must be discouraged"? How about: “pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited"?’
‘Well, what does that mean?’ said Ron impatiently.
‘I'll tell you what it means,’ said Hermione through gritted teeth. ‘It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts.’
There was a great clattering and banging all around them; Dumbledore had obviously just dismissed the school, because everyone was standing up ready to leave the Hall. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.
‘Ron, we're supposed to show the first-years where to go!’
‘Oh yeah,’ said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. ‘Hey—hey, you lot! Midgets!’
‘Ron!’
‘Well, they are, they're titchy ...’
‘I know, but you can't call them midgets!—First-years!’ Hermione called commandingly along the table. ‘This way, please!’
A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. They did indeed seem very small; Harry was sure he had not appeared that young when he had arrived here. He grinned at them. A blond boy next to Euan Abercrombie looked petrified; he nudged Euan and whispered something in his ear. Euan Abercrombie looked equally frightened and stole a horrified look at Harry, who felt the grin slide off his face like Stinksap.
‘See you later,’ he said dully to Ron and Hermione and he made his way out of the Great Hall alone, doing everything he could to ignore more whispering, staring and pointing as he passed. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as he wove his way through the crowd in the Entrance Hall, then he hurried up the marble staircase, took a couple of concealed short cuts and had soon left most of the crowds behind.
He had been stupid not to expect this, he thought angrily as he walked through the much emptier upstairs corridors. Of course everyone was staring at him; he had emerged from the Triwizard maze two months previously clutching the dead body of a fellow student and claiming to have seen Lord Voldemort return to power. There had not been time last term to explain himself before they'd all had to go home—even if he had felt up to giving the whole school a detailed account of the terrible events in that graveyard.
Harry had reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room and come to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady before he realised that he did not know the new password.
‘Er ...’ he said glumly, staring up at the Fat Lady, who smoothed the folds of her pink satin dress and looked sternly back at him.
‘No password, no entrance,’ she said loftily.
‘Harry, I know it!’ Someone panted up behind him and he turned to see Neville jogging towards him. ‘Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once— ’ He waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train. ‘Mimbuius mimbletonia!’
‘Correct,’ said the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open towards them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind, through which Harry and Neville now climbed.
The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cosy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands by it before going up to their dormitories; on the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the noticeboard. Harry waved goodnight to them and headed straight for the door to the boys’ dormitories; he was not in much of a mood for talking at the moment. Neville followed him.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had reached the dormitory first and were in the process of covering the walls beside their beds with posters and photographs. They had been talking as Harry pushed open the door but stopped abruptly the moment they saw him. Harry wondered whether they had been talking about him, then whether he was being paranoid.
‘Hi,’ he said, moving across to his own trunk and opening it.
‘Hey, Harry,’ said Dean, who was putting on a pair of pyjamas in the West Ham colours. ‘Good holiday?’
‘Not bad,’ muttered Harry, as a true account of his holiday would have taken most of the night to relate and he could not face it. ‘You?’
‘Yeah, it was OK,’ chuckled Dean. ‘Better than Seamus's, anyway, he was just telling me.’
‘Why, what happened, Seamus?’ Neville asked as he placed his Mimbuius mimbletonia tenderly on his bedside cabinet.
Seamus did not answer immediately; he was making rather a meal of ensuring that his poster of the Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch team was quite straight. Then he said, with his back still turned to Harry, ‘Me mam didn't want me to come back.’
‘What?’ said Harry, pausing in the act of pulling off his robes.
‘She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts.’
Seamus turned away from his poster and pulled his own pyjamas out of his trunk, still not looking at Harry.
‘But—why?’ said Harry, astonished. He knew that Seamus's mother was a witch and could not understand, therefore, why she should have come over so Dursleyish.
Seamus did not answer until he had finished buttoning his pyjamas.
‘Well,’ he said in a measured voice, ‘I suppose ... because of you.’
‘What d'you mean?’ said Harry quickly.
His heart was beating rather fast. He felt vaguely as though something was closing in on him.
‘Well,’ said Seamus again, still avoiding Harry's eye, she ... er ... well, it's not just you, it's Dumbledore, too ...’
‘She believes the Daily Prophet?’ said Harry. ‘She thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore's an old fool?’
Seamus looked up at him.
‘Yeah, something like that.’
Harry said nothing. He threw his wand down on to his bedside table, pulled off his robes, stuffed them angrily into his trunk and pulled on his pyjamas. He was sick of it: sick of being the person who is stared at and talked about all the time. If any of them knew, if any of them had the faintest idea what it felt like to be the one all these things had happened to ... Mrs. Finnigan had no idea, the stupid woman, he thought savagely.
He got into bed and made to pull the hangings closed around him, but before he could do so, Seamus said, ‘Look ... what did happen that night when ... you know, when ... with Cedric Diggory and all?’
Seamus sounded nervous and eager at the same time. Dean, who had been bending over his trunk trying to retrieve a slipper, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard.
‘What are you asking me for?’ Harry retorted. ‘Just read the Daily Prophet like your mother, why don't you? That'll tell you all you need to know.’
‘Don't you have a go at my mother,’ Seamus snapped.
‘I'll have a go at anyone who calls me a liar,’ said Harry.
‘Don't talk to me like that!’
‘I'll talk to you how I want,’ said Harry, his temper rising so fast he snatched his wand back from his bedside table. ‘If you've got a problem sharing a dormitory with me, go and ask McGonagall if you can be moved ... stop your mummy worrying— ’
‘Leave my mother out of this, Potter!’
‘What's going on?’
Ron had appeared in the doorway. His wide eyes travelled from Harry, who was kneeling on his bed with his wand pointing at Seamus, to Seamus, who was standing there with his fists raised.
‘He's having a go at my mother!’ Seamus yelled.
‘What?’ said Ron. ‘Harry wouldn't do that—we met your mother, we liked her ...’
‘That's before she started believing every word the stinking Daily Prophet writes about me!’ said Harry at the top of his voice.
‘Oh,’ said Ron, comprehension dawning across his freckled face. ‘Oh ... right.’
‘You know what?’ said Seamus heatedly, casting Harry a venomous look. ‘He's right, I don't want to share a dormitory with him any more, he's mad.’
‘That's out of order, Seamus,’ said Ron, whose ears were starting to glow red—always a danger sign.
‘Out of order, am I?’ shouted Seamus, who in contrast with Ron was going pale. ‘You believe all the rubbish he's come out with about You-Know-Who, do you, you reckon he's telling the truth?’
‘Yeah, I do!’ said Ron angrily.
‘Then you're mad, too,’ said Seamus in disgust.
‘Yeah? Well, unfortunately for you, pal, I'm also a prefect!’ said Ron, jabbing himself in the chest with a finger. ‘So unless you want detention, watch your mouth!’
Seamus looked for a few seconds as though detention would be a reasonable price to pay to say what was going through his mind; but with a noise of contempt he turned on his heel, vaulted into bed and pulled the hangings shut with such violence that they were ripped from the bed and fell in a dusty pile to the floor. Ron glared at Seamus, then looked at Dean and Neville.
‘Anyone else's parents got a problem with Harry?’ he said aggressively.
‘My parents are Muggles, mate,’ said Dean, shrugging. ‘They don't know nothing about no deaths at Hogwarts, because I'm not stupid enough to tell them.’
‘You don't know my mother, she'd weasel anything out of anyone!’ Seamus snapped at him. ‘Anyway, your parents don't get the Daily Prophet.They don't know our Headmaster's been sacked from the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards because he's losing his marbles—’
‘My gran says that's rubbish,’ piped up Neville. ‘She says it's the Daily Prophet that's going downhill, not Dumbledore. She's cancelled our subscription. We believe Harry,’ said Neville simply. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, looking owlishly over them at Seamus. ‘My grans always said You-Know-Who would come back one day. She says if Dumbledore says he's back, he's back.’
Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Neville. Nobody else said anything. Seamus got out his wand, repaired the bed hangings and vanished behind them. Dean got into bed, rolled over and fell silent. Neville, who appeared to have nothing more to say either, was gazing fondly at his moonlit cactus.
Harry lay back on his pillows while Ron bustled around the next bed, putting his things away. He fell, shaken by the argument with Seamus, whom he had always liked very much. How many more people were going to suggest that he was lying, or unhinged?
Had Dumbledore suffered like this all summer, as first the Wizengamot, then the International Confederation of Wizards had thrown him from their ranks? Was it anger at Harry, perhaps, that had stopped Dumbledore getting in touch with him for months? The two of them were in this together, after all; Dumbledore had believed Harry, announced his version of events to the whole school and then to the wider wizarding community. Anyone who thought Harry was a liar had to think that Dumbledore was, too, or else that Dumbledore had been hoodwinked ...
They'll know we're right in the end, thought Harry miserably, as Ron got into bed and extinguished the last candle in the dormitory. But he wondered how many more attacks like Seamus's he would have to endure before that time came.
如果那就是事实真相的话，哈利不想告诉其他人他和露娜具有相同的幻觉，因此当他坐进车里并重重的关上车门之后，他再也没有说过任何关于那些马的事情了。但是，他还是忍不住从移动的前窗看着这些马一样的生物的侧影。
“大家都看见那个格拉普兰教授了吧？”金妮问道，“她回到这里干什么呢？哈格力不会离开吧，是吗？”
“如果哈格力离开我会很高兴的，”露娜说道，“他不是一个好老师，是吗？”
“是，他是个好老师！”哈利、罗恩和金妮都愤怒的说道。
哈利瞪着荷米恩。她清了清喉咙很快说道：“恩…是的…他是很优秀。”
“好吧，不过我们拉文克劳学院的人都认为他有点可笑。”露娜狼狈不堪的说道。
“那么你们的幽默感完全是垃圾，”当他们身下吱吱作响的轮子运动的时候，罗恩突然叫道。
露娜看来并没有为罗恩的粗鲁感到不安；正相反，她仅仅是看了罗恩一眼就好象是在看一部很有趣的电视节目。
这辆马车喀哒作响并且摇晃着在路上移动着。当他们经过霍格瓦彻校门口两边雕刻着高大飞猪的石柱的时候，哈利身体前倾想要尽力看清禁林旁边哈格力的小屋是否有灯光，但是那个地方漆黑一片。但是，霍格瓦彻城堡却是越来越近了：这是一座满是小塔的高塔，通体乌黑指向黑色的夜空，在它上面到处都有窗户闪烁着明亮的光芒。
马车象喝醉酒一样摇摇晃晃的在接近城堡石头台阶的地方停住了，正对着橡木制成的前门。哈利首先跳下了车。他再次转头看看禁林旁边的小窗户，但是很显然哈格力小屋中没有任何生命的迹象。因为他有一半希望那些生物消失掉，所以哈利很不情愿的将目光再次移动到那些奇怪的，瘦的皮包骨头的生物身上，这些生物安静的站在寒冷夜晚的空气中，他们空洞的白眼睛闪闪发光。
哈利以前曾经有过一次看见某些罗恩看不见的东西的经历，但是那次是从一面镜子的反射中看见的。而现在某种非实体的生物却比一百头看的见的生物更强壮，它们可以飞快的拉着马车。如果事情果然如同露娜相信的那样，这些生物总是在那里拉车，只不过它们是隐形的。那么为什么哈利突然看见了这种生物，而又为什么罗恩看不见呢？
“你是进来还是想干点别的？”罗恩在哈利旁边问道。
“哦…是的，”哈利很快回答说道。接着他们就加入了匆匆茫忙忙走上石头台阶进入城堡的人流之中。
入口处的大厅火炬光线摇曳；学生们穿过标记好的石头地板去右边第二道门的时候，大厅里回荡着脚步声，这道门通往主厅和开学典礼举行的地方。
在主厅之中四个长桌正在暗无星光的黑色天花板下闪闪发光，其景象正如他们通过高窗看见的夜空。蜡烛沿着长桌漂浮在半空中，照亮了星罗棋布在大厅中游荡的银色幽灵，学生们一脸兴奋的交谈着，交流着暑假的新闻，大声对其他学院的朋友们打着招呼，品评着一个又一个新发型和新款式的长袍。再一次，哈利注意到当他经过的时候人们将头凑在一起窃窃私语；他磨着牙齿并尽力表现出自己好象既没注意也不介意的样子。
露娜在拉文克劳的长桌前与他们道别。当他们抵达格兰芬多的长桌时，金妮被她的四年级同学欢呼着接过去并坐在同学们中间；哈利、罗恩、荷米恩与纳威一起在桌子中段靠近无头尼克的地方找到座位。无头尼克是格兰芬多的幽灵，另外还有帕瓦提 帕提尔和拉文德 布朗，后面两只幽灵向哈利愉快的，超出朋友热情的打招呼，这使得哈利十分确定他们刚刚停下对自己的谈论。不过，他有更重要的东西要担心：哈利越过学生们的头顶仔细的搜索着大厅另一端靠墙的教师座位。
“哈格力不在那里。”
尽管这么做没有任何现实的必要，罗恩与荷米恩也扫了一遍教工座位；哈格力的身材使他在一排人里面很快就能够辨认出来。
“他不会离开的，”罗恩的声音听起来有点紧张。
“他当然不会，”哈利坚定的说。
“你们不认为他…受到伤害，或者其他什么事，是吗？”荷米恩困难的说道。
“不，”哈利立刻反驳道。
“但是他在哪里呢？”
他们都沉默了，然后哈利非常小声的开口了，纳威、帕瓦提和拉文德都听不见他说什么，“也许他还没有回来。你知道的 —来自于他的任务—他在是、整个夏天为丹伯多做的事情。” “是的…是的，一定是这样的，”罗恩的声音恢复了信心，不过荷米恩咬着嘴唇，在教工席上下搜寻，仿佛希望就哈格力的缺席得出某种结论。
“那是谁？”荷米恩大声叫道并用手指着教工席的中间。
哈利顺着荷米恩的手看过去。他们第一眼看见的是丹伯多，他正坐在长桌正中那张高背的金色椅子上，身上穿着紫色长袍，长袍上点缀着银色的星星，并戴着一顶相配的帽子。丹伯多的头偏向一个坐在身边的妇女，后者正在对着他的耳朵说话。哈利认为她看起来象某人的纯情姨妈：她蹲在椅子上，有着短而卷曲的老鼠一样的栗色头发，头发上面还带了一只恐怖的粉红色的爱丽丝蝴蝶结，以配合她穿在长袍外面的粉红色开襟羊毛衫。接着她把脸稍稍转过来吸吮了一下面前的高脚杯，哈利为她的相貌感到震惊，一张苍白的，青蛙一样的脸，加上一对显著突起的，松垂的眼睛。
“那就是那个来自乌姆桥的的妇女！”
“谁？”荷米恩问道。
“她参加了我的听证会，她是为福格工作的！”
“很漂亮的开襟羊毛衫，”罗恩傻笑着说道。
“她为福格工作！”荷米恩皱着眉头重复道，“那么她究竟来这里干什么呢？”
“不知道…”
荷米恩再度扫描了教工席，她的眼睛变小了。
“没有，”她喃喃自语道，“没有，肯定没有…”
哈利不懂荷米恩说的话，不过他也没有问；他的注意力已经被格拉普兰教授吸引住了，普兰克教授正出现在教工席的后方；她以自己的方式走到非常靠边的地方坐下，而那个位置原本是哈格力的。那意味着一年级新生已经通过了湖面并抵达城堡，更加坚定这种想法的是，几秒钟之后，大厅入口处的门打开了。一个由一年级新生组成的长队走了进来，他们一个个面色紧张，由麦格教授（霍格瓦彻魔法学校副校长，格兰芬多学院院长，魔法变形课教师）带领。麦格教授的手上拿着一个凳子，凳子的上面就是那顶古老的分院帽，这顶帽子缀满补丁，在接近帽子破损的边缘处有一条宽阔的裂缝。
大厅里的嗡嗡声逐渐消失。一年级的新生们在面对其余学生的长桌前站成一排，麦格教授仔细的将凳子放在他们的面前，然后站到后面去了。
整个学校的师生都屏息等待。然后帽子边缘的裂缝象一张嘴巴一样张开了，分院帽发出了一阵歌声：
古老的时候我很新
霍格瓦彻刚开张
高贵学校的创立者
尽管从未被分开：
为一个共同的目标聚集在一起
他们有着完全相同的理想
那就是创造世界上最好的魔法学校
并且根据其所学
聚在一起建与教
四个好友决定了
从位想过会分离
这样的朋友哪里找
斯莱特林还是格兰芬多？
除非那是双胞胎
就象赫奇帕奇与拉文克劳？
因此为何这样错？
为什么朋友们会失败？
为什么我在这里能说话？
整个的遗憾，难过的故事
斯莱特林说：“我们只教那些祖先血统最纯者。”
拉文克劳说：“我们只教那些最有智慧者。”
格兰芬多说：“我们只教那些最勇敢者。”
赫奇帕奇说：“我谁都教，而且一视同仁。”
第一次公开时，这些差异造成小冲突
每个创造者有个楼
录取他们满意的人
举个例子这么说
斯莱特林只录纯血统
还要象他最狡猾
那些头脑最灵者
全部交给拉文克劳
最为勇敢大胆者
肯定投奔格兰芬多
优秀学院赫奇帕奇，剩下学院它都要
尽心尽力教学生
这就是学院与创始者
保持的友谊坚又真
霍格瓦彻真融洽
过了快乐好几年
他们之间猛吵架
互相揭短不留情
学院象柱子一分四
一度支撑本学校
现在各自分道飚
眼看学校要早夭
决斗战斗为了啥
朋友之间起冲突
最后到了第三天
斯莱特林离开了
尽管战斗已绝迹
留给我们大难题
如果没有四祖先
这个房子怎么合
他们一度想办法
分院帽因此就在这
你们都知道总得分
我分你们进学院
因为这是我工作
但是今年我走远
凑过身来听我歌
尽管我被你责难
我还是担心这首歌
尽管我须完任务
每年都要写新歌
我还是不知怎么分
也许最后会害怕
哦。知道危险读签名
历史的警告在眼前
霍格瓦彻有危机
来自外面的死敌
我们必须要团结
哦，否则内部要崩溃
我必须告诉你，我必须警告你…。
现在分类就开始
分院帽再一次变的静止；大厅里爆发出一阵欢呼声，尽管在哈利的记忆里第一次分院帽的歌中被掺入了抱怨和谣言。所有大厅里面的人都在和邻座的人交换着看法，而哈利与其他人一样拍着手，他很清楚大家正在谈论的事情。
“今年有点不同，不是吗？”罗恩的眉毛抬了起来。
“你说的太对了，”哈利说道。
分院帽通常情况下都会自我限制，仅仅描述四个学院的不同品质，以及它自己在分类中的任务。哈利从不记得它会在分类之前给学校提建议。
“我怀疑它从前是否提出过警告？”荷米恩的声音听起来有点紧张。
“是的，确实，”几乎无头的尼克聪明的侧身和纳威说话，（纳威则不断的向后退缩，因为一个幽灵和你近距离交谈确实使人非常的不舒服。）“无论何时它感觉到，它就会以它的光荣义务向学校发出警告。”
但是麦格教授正在宣读一年级的名单，这使得小声讨论的人渐渐的少了。几乎无头的尼克做了一个明显的噤声的动作，然后就笔直呆滞的坐着知道窃窃私语声完全停止。随着四张桌子最后一名抱怨的学生停下来，麦格教授才低头看着那张长长的羊皮纸，并叫出了第一个名字。
“阿伯克罗比，尤安。”
这是一个哈利早些时候注意过的长的很恐怖的男孩，他犹豫不决的走上前并将分院帽戴到头上；分院帽仅仅是因为他突出的耳朵阻隔才没有罩到他的肩膀上。分院帽考虑了几秒钟，然后那条裂缝再次张开并叫道：
“格兰芬多！”
当那个男孩走向格兰芬多这一桌并坐下的时候，哈利和其他格兰芬多的老生一起使劲的鼓掌，男孩看上去恨不得地板上有个洞让他钻进去，并且再也不想抬起头来。
慢慢的，一年级新生的长队减少了。在宣读姓名和分院帽作出决定的间隙，哈利能够听见罗恩的胃响亮的咕咕叫着。最后，“泽勒，罗斯”被分到赫奇帕奇。接着当丹伯多教授站起来的时候，麦格教授收起分院帽和凳子并将它们拿走。
无论他最近对自己的校长有多少怀恨的感觉，在某种程度上丹伯多站在大家面前对哈利还是一种安慰。回想哈格力的缺席以及那些凶暴的马的出现，哈利感到他长期以来预想的回到霍格瓦彻的情景，充满了想不到的奇怪事件，就象一首熟悉的歌词上写的那样。但是至少现在，事情是按照预想的发展：他们的校长在新学期开学典礼宴会前向全体学生致辞。
“对我们的新成员而言，”丹伯多以一种响亮的声音说道，他的胳膊伸的很开，脸上洋溢着喜悦的微笑，“欢迎你们。对我们的老成员来说—欢迎你们回来！本来有个演讲时间，不过现在没有了！开动！”
当丹伯多优美的坐下并将他的长胡子甩到肩膀上以避免它掉到盘子里的时候，大厅里爆发出一阵欣赏的笑声，以及一阵响亮的欢呼声—现在食物已经出现了，因此五张桌子的人都在尽情的享用馅饼、各种蔬菜、面包、调味料以及大杯的南瓜汁。
“棒极了，”罗恩的声音里充满了渴望的呻吟，他抓起最近的碟子里面的食物，并且开始把食物堆在盘子里，几乎无头的尼克用另一种渴望的眼神看着他。
“在分类之前你说了什么？”荷米恩问这个幽灵道。“关于这顶帽子提出警告的事情？”
“哦，是的，”尼克看起来很高兴有个理由背对罗恩，后者正在以几乎不象话的狂热狼吞虎咽着烤土豆。“是的，我从前听过几次分院帽提出警告的情况，通常是当它在学校之中觉察到一个长期的巨大的危险的时候。当然，它的建议都是相同的：团结起来，从内部坚强起来。”
“如果它只是一顶帽子的话它又如何知道学校面临危险呢？”罗恩说道。
罗恩的嘴里塞满了食物，哈利认为他能够发出这些含糊不清的噪音是个了不起的成就。
“我没听清楚，再重复一遍好吗？”当荷米恩的脸上一片厌恶之色的时候，几乎无头的尼克（尼克是格兰芬多的鬼魂，本意是要完全砍头以方便参加鬼魂界的头球比赛，但是刽子手却没有将他的头完全砍断，结果尼克的头便无法取下来，这使得尼克伤心欲绝，故书中以幽默笔调称之为几乎无头的尼克，简称无头尼克）礼貌的问道。罗恩做了一个巨大的吞咽动作然后说道，“如果那仅仅是一顶帽子它又是如何得知学校正面临危机呢？”
“我对此一无所知，”无头尼克说道，“当然，分院帽一直住在丹伯多的办公室，我敢说它从那里听到了什么。”
“而且它要求所有的学院都成为朋友？”哈利仔细的观察着斯莱特林的桌子说道，在那里小马尔夫正在接受其他人的奉承，“毫无机会。”
“好吧，现在，你不应该采取那种态度，”尼克责备的说道，“和平合作，这是关键。尽管我们这些鬼魂来自不同的学院，但是却保持着友谊。虽然在格兰芬多与斯莱特林之间存在竞争，但是我从没想过与血人巴隆（斯莱特林的鬼魂，尼克最畏惧的人）就此事争吵。”
“那仅仅是因为你害怕他，”罗恩说道。
无头尼克看来象是被严重侮辱的样子。
“害怕？我希望我还有害怕的感觉，尼古拉斯 德 米木斯—波平顿先生在一生中还从来没有过胆怯害怕的时候！流淌在我的血管中的高贵血液—”
“什么血液？”罗恩问道，“请确认一下你还有血液吗？”
“这是一个比方！”无头尼克现在是如此恼火，他的只有几块皮连着的头正在正在气的发抖，“我认为我仍然被允许使用任何我喜欢的话，甚至包括享受吃饭与喝酒的乐趣我都毫不否认！而且我警告你，我决不允许学生用我的死亡开玩笑！”
“尼克，他不是真的嘲笑你！”荷米恩扔了一个责备的眼神给罗恩然后说道。
很不走运的是，罗恩的嘴巴再次塞满了食物，因而他所能够努力发出的也就是一些含糊的呜呜声，在尼克看来这显然不是一个充分的道歉。尼克直接飞到空中离开他们加入了桌子的另一端，坐在了克雷文兄弟、柯林和丹尼斯之间的空位上。
“干的好，罗恩。”荷米恩气鼓鼓的咆哮道。
“什么？”罗恩恼火的说道，他正在尽最后的努力吞咽食物。“难道就不允许问一个简单的问题吗？”
“哦，忘了它吧，”荷米恩暴躁的说道，然后这对活宝就把剩下的时间变成了愤怒的沉默用餐时间。
哈利对他们的争吵太司空见惯了以至于都懒得为他们调解；他觉得将精力花在美味的食物上面是个更好的选择，然后一大碟他喜欢的甜点就出现了。
当所有学生都吃完了，而大厅里的噪音水平开始再度上升的时候，丹伯多又一次从椅子上站了起来。议论的声音立刻停止了，所有学生都转头看着校长。哈利现在感到心情愉快的昏昏欲睡。他的四脚床正在楼上某个地方等着他，那张床非常温暖柔和…
“好的，现在我们又一次度过了一个盛大的宴会，我希望大家集中注意力，我们现在进行一般性的开学通告，”丹伯多说道，“一年级的新生必须明白空地上的树林是禁止学生进入的—而有一些老生也应该再次明了这一点。”（哈利、罗恩与荷米恩交换、了一个傻笑的表情。）
“管理员费弛先生已经要求我，他和我说了四百六十秒钟，以提醒你们在教室之间的走廊不允许使用任何魔法，还有其他很多规定，所有的详细清单现在都张贴在费弛先生的办公室门上。”
“今年我们的教师有两个变化。我们非常高兴的欢迎格拉普兰教授的归来，她将负责魔法生物课；我也很高兴的介绍乌姆布瑞杰女士，她将担任我们新的黑魔法防御课教师。”
大厅里响起一阵礼貌但完全缺乏热心的欢呼声，哈利、罗恩与荷米恩此时轻轻交换了一个不妙的眼神，丹伯多并没有说格拉普兰教授要教多长时间。
丹伯多继续说道：“学院魁地奇预赛将举行—”
他停了下来，疑惑的看着乌姆布瑞杰教授。这个女人站着比坐着高不了多少，有一刻没人知道丹伯多为何停下来，但是接着乌姆布瑞杰教授清清嗓子说道：“恩，恩，”事情变的清楚了原来是她已经站起来要发表一段演讲。
丹伯多仅仅向后看了一眼，然后就潇洒的坐下并留意的看着乌姆布瑞杰教授，好象他最大的期望就是听乌教授讲话。其他教师就无法掩盖其惊讶了。斯内普教授的眉毛已经被刘海挡住了，而麦格教授的嘴变到哈利有史以来看过的最薄状态。以前从来没有新老师打断丹伯多教授的讲话。许多学生都在傻笑；这个女人很显然不知道在霍格瓦彻应当怎样做事。
“谢谢你，校长，” 乌姆布瑞杰教授假笑着说道，“为我们致欢迎词。” 她的声音再次高亢，急促还带着少女味，哈利无法解释的涌起一股强烈的厌恶感；哈利所知道的就是自己厌恶她的一切：从她的愚蠢的声音到她蓬松的粉红色开襟羊毛衫。她又咳嗽了一下继续说道。
“好吧，我必须说很高兴回到霍格瓦彻！”她露出十分突出的牙齿笑着说道，“还有看着这么多愉快的小脸！”
哈利扫了一眼四周。没有一张他看见的脸是愉快的。相反，他们看起来都像是回到了五岁大的时候。
“我施肥渴望认识你们每个人，我确定我们会成为好朋友！”
学生们彼此交换眼神；有一些已经几乎要笑出声了。
“只要不会借她的开襟羊毛衫，我愿意一直做她的朋友，”帕瓦提对拉文德小声说道，然后两个人都开始吃吃的傻笑。
乌姆布瑞杰教授再次清清喉咙，但是当她再次开口的时候，一些急促声从她的声音里面消失了。现在她的话是以一种枯燥的声音传达的。
“魔法部一直认为教育年轻的巫师和女巫是十分重要的。伴随你们出生的珍贵礼物如果不加以细心的教育与知道将化为乌有。巫师组织的古老独特技能必须由后代继承，以免失传。我们的祖先发现的魔法知识的宝藏必须被守护、补充和完善，担当这一责任的就是高贵的教师们。”
乌姆布瑞杰教授在这里停顿了一下，并向在坐的同僚微微鞠躬，但是没有一个教师还礼。麦格教授的黑眉毛已经收缩起来，因此她的样子看起来就象是一只老鹰一样，哈利清楚的看见麦格教授与斯内普教授交换了一个意味深长的眼神，而同时乌姆布瑞杰教授再次清清嗓子并继续发表演讲。
“霍格瓦彻的历任校长都带来了某些新东西来胜任这所历史悠久的学校繁重的管理任务。那是理所当然的，因为没有进步就会停滞腐烂。不过，为进步而进步的兴趣必须停止，我们奋斗和检验的传统经常是完美的。那么这就是一个新与旧、永恒与改变、传统与创新之间的平衡…”
哈利发现他的注意力正在分散，仿佛他的大脑渐渐松弛并游离物外。当丹伯多讲话时出现在大厅的安静现在再度打破，学生们把头凑到一起，窃窃私语并吃吃的笑着。在拉文克劳的桌子那边，卓正在和朋友们兴致勃勃的聊天。卓旁边几个位子远的地方，露娜又掏出了她的那本杂志。与此同时，在赫奇帕奇的桌子那里安聂 麦克兰是少数几个仍然在盯着乌姆布瑞杰教授的学生，但是他两眼无神，哈利确信他仅仅是在假装听着，以保持胸前那枚闪闪发光的级长徽章。 乌姆布瑞杰教授看来完全没有注意到下面那些吵闹的听众。哈利甚至觉得如果有一场大规模骚动能够在她眼皮子底下爆发，也许可以让她收起那套长篇大论。然而，那些老师们到是在认真的听着，荷米恩也在认真理解她说的每一句话，尽管从表情上看，荷米恩并不同意她的某些观点。
“…因为有些改变很好，于是其他人就会跟风，在一个很长的时间里，这些被看成是判断错误。与此同时，有些老习惯将被保留，并且正因如此，所以其他的习惯，那些过时的，陈旧的，都应该被废除。那么，让我们前行，进入一个开放、高效、负责的新时代，保留那些应当保留的，完善那些需要完善的，并且修改那些我们在实践当中发现应当禁止的。”
她终于坐下了。丹伯多开始鼓掌。全体教师跟着丹伯多一起鼓掌，不过哈利看见有几个教师仅仅象征性的拍了一两下就停下来了。有几个学生也跟着鼓了几下掌，不过大部分的学生对演讲的结束一无所觉，也根本没听几个字。当他们反映过来要开始鼓掌的时候，丹伯多已经再次站了起来。
“非常感谢乌姆布瑞杰教授，很有启发性的演讲，”丹伯多说着弯了一下腰。“现在听我说，魁地奇预赛将举行…”
“是的，这篇演讲当然具有启发性，”荷米恩低声说道。
“你不会告诉我们你喜欢这篇演讲吧？”罗恩白了荷米恩一眼说道。“那是我所听过的最枯燥无味的演讲，而且我是和珀西一起长大的。”
“我说具有启发性，并没有说我喜欢，”荷米恩说道，“这篇演讲解释了许多事情。”
“是吗？”罗恩惊奇的
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |