Despite the fact that he had spent every waking moment of the past few days hoping desperately1 that Dumbledore would indeed come to fetch him, Harry2 felt distinctly awkward as they set off down Privet Drive together. He had never had a proper conversation with the Headmaster outside of Hogwarts before; there was usually a desk between them. The memory of their last face-to-face encounter kept intruding3 too, and it rather heightened Harry's sense of embarrassment4; he had shouted a lot on that occasion, not to mention done his best to smash several of Dumbledore's most prized possessions.
Dumbledore, however, seemed completely relaxed.
“Keep your wand at the ready, Harry,” he said brightly.
“But I thought I'm not allowed to use magic outside school, sir?”
“If there is an attack,” said Dumbledore, “I give you permission to use any counter-jinx or -curse that might occur to you. However, I do not think you need worry about being attacked tonight.”
“Why not, sir?”
“You are with me,” said Dumbledore simply. “This will do, Harry.”
He came to an abrupt5 halt at the end of Privet Drive.
“You have not, of course, passed your Apparition6 Test,” he said.
“No,” said Harry. “I thought you had to be seventeen?”
“You do,” said Dumbledore. “So you will need to hold on to my arm very tightly. My left, if you don't mind—as you have noticed, my wand arm is a little fragile at the moment.”
Harry gripped Dumbledore's proffered7 forearm.
“Very good,” said Dumbledore. “Well, here we go.”
Harry felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip; the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening8 around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull9 and then—
He gulped10 great lungfulls of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realized that Privet Drive had vanished. He and Dumbledore were now standing11 in what appeared to be a deserted12 village square, in the center of which stood an old war memorial and a few benches. His comprehension catching13 up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.
“Are you all right?” asked Dumbledore, looking down at him solicitously14. “The sensation does take some getting used to.”
“I'm fine,” said Harry, rubbing his ears, which felt as though they had left Privet Drive rather reluctantly. “But I think I might prefer brooms...”
Dumbledore smiled, drew his traveling cloak a little more lightly around his neck, and said, “This way.”
He set off at a brisk pace, past an empty inn and a few houses. According to a clock on a nearby church, it was almost midnight.
“So tell me, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “Your scar... has it been hurting at all?”
Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark.
“No,” he said, “and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again.”
He glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that he was wearing a satisfied expression.
“I, on the other hand, thought otherwise,” said Dumbledore. “Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you.”
“Well, I'm not complaining,” said Harry, who missed neither the disturbing dreams nor the startling flashes of insight into Voldemort's mind.
They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus shelter. Harry looked sideways at Dumbledore again. “Professor?”
“Harry?”
“Er—where exactly are we?”
“This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton.”
“And what are we doing here?”
“Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you,” said Dumbledore. “Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement15 and return to Hogwarts.”
“How can I help with that, sir?”
“Oh, I think we'll find a use for you,” said Dumbledore vaguely16. “Left here, Harry.”
They proceeded up a steep, narrow street lined with houses. All the windows were dark. The odd chill that had lain over Privet Drive for two weeks persisted here too. Thinking of dementors, Harry cast a look over his shoulder and grasped his wand reassuringly17 in his pocket.
“Professor, why couldn't we just Apparate directly into your old colleague's house?”
“Because it would be quite as rude as kicking down the front door,” said Dumbledore. “Courtesy dictates18 that we offer fellow wizards the opportunity of denying us entry. In any case, most Wizarding dwellings19 are magically protected from unwanted Apparators. At Hogwarts, for instance —”
“— you can't Apparate anywhere inside the buildings or grounds,” said Harry quickly. “Hermione Granger told me.”
“And she is quite right. We turn left again.”
The church clock chimed midnight behind them. Harry wondered why Dumbledore did not consider it rude to call on his old colleague so late, but now that conversation had been established, he had more pressing questions to ask.
“Sir, I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has been sacked...”
“Correct,” said Dumbledore, now turning up a steep side street. “He has been replaced, as I am sure you also saw, by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be Head of the Auror office.”
“Is he... do you think he's good?” asked Harry.
“An interesting question,” said Dumbledore. “He is able, certainly. A more decisive and forceful personality than Cornelius.”
“Yes, but I meant —”
“I know what you meant. Rufus is a man of action and, having fought Dark wizards for most of his working life, does not underestimate Lord Voldemort.”
Harry waited, but Dumbledore did not say anything about the disagreement with Scrimgeour that the Daily Prophet had reported, and he did not have the nerve to pursue the subject, so he changed it.
“And... sir... I saw about Madam Bones.”
“Yes,” said Dumbledore quietly. “A terrible loss. She was a great witch. Just up here, I think — ouch.”
He had pointed20 with his injured hand.
“Professor, what happened to your... ?”
“I have no time to explain now,” said Dumbledore. “It is a thrilling tale, I wish to do it justice.”
He smiled at Harry, who understood that he was not being snubbed, and that he had permission to keep asking questions.
“Sir, I got a Ministry21 of Magic leaflet by owl22, about security measures we should all take against the Death Eaters...”
“Yes, I received one myself,” said Dumbledore, still smiling. “Did you find it useful?”
“Not really.”
“No, I thought not. You have not asked me, for instance, what is my favorite flavor of jam, to check that I am indeed Professor Dumbledore and not an impostor.”
“I didn't...” Harry began, not entirely23 sure whether he was being reprimanded or not.
“For future reference, Harry, it is raspberry... although of course, if I were a Death Eater, I would have been sure to research my own jam preferences before impersonating myself.”
“Er... right,” said Harry. “Well, on that leaflet, it said something about Inferi. What exactly are they? The leaflet wasn't very clear.”
“They are corpses,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Dead bodies that have been bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however, not since Voldemort was last powerful... he killed enough people to make an army of them, of course. This is the place, Harry, just here...”
They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden. Harry was too busy digesting the horrible idea of Inferi to have much attention left for anything else, but as they reached the front gate, Dumbledore stopped dead and Harry walked into him.
“Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear.”
Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.
Dumbledore glanced up and down the street. It seemed quite deserted.
“Wand out and follow me, Harry,” he said quietly.
He opened the gate and walked swiftly and silently up the garden path, Harry at his heels, then pushed the front door very slowly, his wand raised and at the ready.
“Lumos.”
Dumbledore's wand tip ignited, casting its light up a narrow hallway. To the left, another door stood open. Holding his illuminated24 wand aloft, Dumbledore walked into the sitting room with Harry right behind him.
A scene of total devastation25 met their eyes. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, its face cracked, its pendulum26 lying a little farther away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage27 of a fallen chandelier flittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated29, feathers oozing30 from slashes31 in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. Dumbledore raised his wand even higher, so that its light was thrown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous32 was spattered over the wallpaper. Harry's small intake33 of breath made Dumbledore look around.
“Not pretty, is it?” he said heavily. “Yes, something horrible has happened here.”
Dumbledore moved carefully into the middle of the room, scrutinizing34 the wreckage at his feet. Harry followed, gazing around, half-scared of what he might see hidden behind the wreck28 of the piano or the overturned sofa, but there was no sign of a body.
“Maybe there was a fight and — and they dragged him off, Professor?” Harry suggested, trying not to imagine how badly wounded a man would have to be to leave those stains spattered halfway35 up the walls.
“I don't think so,” said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind an overstuffed armchair lying on its side.
“You mean he's—?”
“Still here somewhere? Yes.”
And without warning, Dumbledore swooped36, plunging37 the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, “Ouch!”
“Good evening, Horace,” said Dumbledore, straightening up again.
Harry's jaw38 dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched39 an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging40 his lower belly41 and squinting42 up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved43 and watery44 eye.
“There was no need to stick the wand in that hard,” he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. “It hurt.”
The wandlight sparkled on his shiny pate45, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walruslike mustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon46 velvet47 jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pajamas48. The top of his head barely reached Dumbledore's chin.
“What gave it away?” he grunted49 as he staggered to his feet, still rubbing his lower belly. He seemed remarkably50 unabashed for a man who had just been discovered pretending to be an armchair.
“My dear Horace,” said Dumbledore, looking amused, “if the Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over the house.”
The wizard clapped a pudgy hand to his vast forehead.
“The Dark Mark,” he muttered. “Knew there was something... ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room.”
He heaved a great sigh that made the ends of his mustache flutter.
“Would you like my assistance clearing up?” asked Dumbledore politely.
“Please,” said the other.
They stood back to back, the tall thin wizard and the short round one, and waved their wands in one identical sweeping51 motion.
The furniture flew back to its original places; ornaments52 re-formed in midair, feathers zoomed53 into their cushions; torn books repaired themselves as they landed upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared onto side tables and reignited; avast collection of splintered silver picture frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks, and holes healed everywhere, and the walls wiped themselves clean.
“What kind of blood was that, incidentally?” asked Dumbledore loudly over the chiming of the newly unsmashed grandfather flock.
“On the walls? Dragon,” shouted the wizard called Horace, as, with a deafening54 grinding and tinkling55, the chandelier screwed itself back into the ceiling.
There was a final plunk from the piano, and silence.
“Yes, dragon,” repeated the wizard conversationally56. “My last bottle, and prices are sky-high at the moment. Still, it might be reusable.”
He stumped57 over to a small crystal bottle standing on top of a sideboard and held it up to the light, examining the thick liquid within.
“Hmm. Bit dusty.”
He set the bottle back on the sideboard and sighed. It was then that his gaze fell upon Harry.
“Oho,” he said, his large round eyes flying to Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar it bore. “Oho!”
“This,” said Dumbledore, moving forward to make the introduction, “is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old Friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn.”
Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd.
“So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus.”
He pushed past Harry, his face turned resolutely58 away with the air of a man trying to resist temptation.
“I suppose we can have a drink, at least?” asked Dumbledore. “For old time's sake?”
Slughorn hesitated.
“All right then, one drink,” he said ungraciously.
Dumbledore smiled at Harry and directed him toward a chair not unlike the one that Slughorn had so recently impersonated, which stood right beside the newly burning fire and a brightly glowing oil lamp. Harry took the seat with the distinct impression that Dumbledore, for some reason, wanted to keep him as visible as possible. Certainly when Slughorn, who had been busy with decanters and glasses, turned to face the room again, his eyes fell immediately upon Harry.
“Hmpf,” he said, looking away quickly as though frightened of hurting his eyes. “Here —” He gave a drink to Dumbledore, who had sat down without invitation, thrust the tray at Harry, and then sank into the cushions of the repaired sofa and a disgruntled silence. His legs were so short they did not touch the floor.
“Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?” Dumbledore asked.
“Not so well,” said Slughorn at once. “Weak chest. Wheezy. Rheumatism59 too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue60.”
“And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such short notice,” said Dumbledore. “You can't have had more than three minutes’ warning?”
Slughorn said, half irritably61, half proudly, “Two. Didn't hear my Intruder Charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still,” he added sternly, seeming to pull himself back together again, “the fact remains62 that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few creature comforts.”
He certainly had those, thought Harry, looking around the room. It was stuffy63 and cluttered64, yet nobody could say it was uncomfortable; there were soft chairs and footstools, drinks and books, boxes of chocolates and plump cushions. If Harry had not known who lived there, he would have guessed at a rich, fussy65 old lady.
“You're not yet as old as I am, Horace,” said Dumbledore.
“Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself,” said Slughorn bluntly. His pale gooseberry eyes had found Dumbledore's injured hand. “Reactions not what they were, I see.”
“You're quite right,” said Dumbledore serenely67, shaking back his sleeve to reveal the tips of those burned and blackened fingers; the sight of them made the back of Harry's neck prickle unpleasantly. “I am undoubtedly68 slower than I was. But on the other hand...”
He shrugged69 and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had its compensations, and Harry noticed a ring on his uninjured hand that he had never seen Dumbledore wear before: It was large, rather clumsily made of what looked like gold, and was set with a heavy black stone that had cracked down the middle. Slughorn's eyes lingered for a moment on the ring too, and Harry saw a tiny frown momentarily crease70 his wide forehead.
“So, all these precautions against intruders, Horace... are they for the Death Eaters’ benefit, or mine?” asked Dumbledore.
“What would the Death Eaters want with a poor broken-down old buffer71 like me?” demanded Slughorn.
“I imagine that they would want you to turn your considerable talents to coercion72, torture, and murder,” said Dumbledore. “Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting yet?”
Slughorn eyed Dumbledore balefully for a moment, then muttered, “I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move from Muggle house to Muggle house—the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands—it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbors don't spot you bringing in the piano.”
“Ingenious,” said Dumbledore. “But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts—”
“If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus! I might have been in hiding, but some funny rumors73 have reached me since Dolores Umbridge left! If that's how you treat teachers these days —”
“Professor Umbridge ran afoul of our centaur74 herd,” said Dumbledore. “I think you, Horace, would have known better than to stride into the forest and call a horde75 of angry centaurs76 ‘filthy half-breeds.'”
“That's what she did, did she?” said Slughorn. “Idiotic woman. Never liked her.”
Harry chuckled77 and both Dumbledore and Slughorn looked round at him.
“Sorry,” Harry said hastily. “It's just—I didn't like her either.”
Dumbledore stood up rather suddenly.
“Are you leaving?” asked Slughorn at once, looking hopeful.
“No, I was wondering whether I might use your bathroom,” said Dumbledore.
“Oh,” said Slughorn, clearly disappointed. “Second on the left down the hall.”
Dumbledore strode from the room. Once the door had closed behind him, there was silence. After a few moments, Slughorn got to his feet but seemed uncertain what to do with himself. He shot a furtive78 look at Harry, then crossed to the fire and turned his back on it, warming his wide behind.
“Don't think I don't know why he's brought you,” he said abruptly79.
Harry merely looked at Slughorn. Slughorn's watery eyes slid over Harry's scar, this time taking in the rest of his face.
“You look very like your father.”
“Yeah, I've been told,” said Harry.
“Except for your eyes. You've got—”
“My mother's eyes, yeah.” Harry had heard it so often he found it a bit wearing.
“Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn't have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,” Slughorn added, in answer to Harry's questioning look. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious80, you know. Charming girl. I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”
“Which was your House?”
“I was Head of Slytherin,” said Slughorn. “Oh, now,” he went on quickly, seeing the expression on Harry's face and wagging a stubby ringer at him, “don't go holding that against me! You'll be Gryffindor like her, I suppose? Yes, it usually goes in families. Not always, though. Ever heard of Sirius Black? You must have done—been in the papers for the last couple of years—died a few weeks ago —”
It was as though an invisible hand had twisted Harry's intestines81 and held them tight.
“Well, anyway, he was a big pal66 of your father's at school. The whole Black family had been in my House, but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor! Shame—he was a talented boy. I got his brother, Regulus, when he came along, but I'd have liked the set.”
He sounded like an enthusiastic collector who had been outbid at auction82. Apparently83 lost in memories, he gazed at the opposite wall, turning idly on the spot to ensure an even heat on his backside.
“Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.”
“One of my best friends is Muggle-born,” said Harry, “and she's the best in our year.”
“Funny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?” said Slughorn.
“Not really,” said Harry coldly.
Slughorn looked down at him in surprise.
“You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!” he said. “No, no, no! Haven't I just said your mother was one of my all-time favorite students? And there was Dirk Cresswell in the year after her too—now Head of the Goblin Liaison84 Office, of course—another Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!”
He bounced up and down a little, smiling in a self-satisfied way, and pointed at the many glittering photograph frames on the dresser, each peopled with tiny moving occupants.
“All ex-students, all signed. You'll notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to hear my take on the day's news. And Ambrosius Flume, of Honeydukes—a hamper85 every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkisss who gave him his first job! And at the back— you'll see her if you just crane your neck—that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the Holyhead Harpies... People are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!”
This thought seemed to cheer him up enormously.
“And all these people know where to find you, to send you stuff?” asked Harry, who could not help wondering why the Death Eaters had not yet tracked down Slughorn if hampers86 of sweets, Quidditch tickets, and visitors craving87 his advice and opinions could find him.
The smile slid from Slughorn's face as quickly as the blood from his walls.
“Of course not,” he said, looking down at Harry. “I have been out of touch with everybody for a year.”
Harry had the impression that the words shocked Slughorn himself; he looked quite unsettled for a moment. Then he shrugged.
“Still... the prudent88 wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix89! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate —”
“You don't have to join the Order to teach at Hogwarts,” said Harry, who could not quite keep a note of derision out of his voice: it was hard to sympathize with Slughorn's cosseted90 existence when he remembered Sirius, crouching91 in a cave and living on rats. “Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed—well, unless you count Quirrell, and he got what he deserved seeing as he was working with Voldemort.”
Harry had been sure Slughorn would be one of those wizards who could not bear to hear Voldemort's name spoken aloud, and was not disappointed: Slughorn gave a shudder92 and a squawk of protest, which Harry ignored.
“I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's Headmaster; he's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?” Harry went on.
Slughorn gazed into space for a moment or two: He seemed to be thinking over Harry's words.
“Well, yes, it is true that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore,” he muttered grudgingly93. “And I suppose one could argue that as I have not joined the Death Eaters, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named can hardly count me a friend... in which case, I might well be safer a little closer to Albus... I cannot pretend that Amelia Bones's death did not shake me... If she, with all her Ministry contacts and protection...”
Dumbledore re-entered the room and Slughorn jumped as though he had forgotten he was in the house.
“Oh, there you are, Albus,” he said. “You've been a very long time. Upset stomach?”
“No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines,” said Dumbledore. “I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, we have trespassed94 upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it is time for us to leave.”
Not at all reluctant to obey, Harry jumped to his feet. Slughorn seemed taken aback.
“You're leaving?”
“Yes, indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one.”
“Lost...?”
Slughorn seemed agitated95. He twiddled his fat thumbs and fidgeted as he watched Dumbledore fasten his traveling cloak, and Harry zip up his jacket.
“Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace,” said Dumbledore, raising his uninjured hand in a farewell salute96. “Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to.”
“Yes... well... very gracious... as I say...”
“Goodbye, then.”
“Bye,” said Harry.
They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.
“All right, all right, I'll do it!”
Dumbledore turned to see Slughorn standing breathless in the doorway97 to the sitting room.
“You will come out of retirement?”
“Yes, yes,” said Slughorn impatiently. “I must be mad, but yes.”
“Wonderful,” said Dumbledore, beaming. “Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September.”
“Yes, I daresay you will,” grunted Slughorn.
As they set off down the garden path, Slughorn's voice floated after them, “I'll want a pay rise, Dumbledore!”
Dumbledore chuckled. The garden gate swung shut behind them, and they set off back down the hill through the dark and the swirling98 mist.
“Well done, Harry,” said Dumbledore.
“I didn't do anything,” said Harry in surprise.
“Oh yes you did. You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?”
“Er...”
Harry wasn't sure whether he liked Slughorn or not. He supposed he had been pleasant in his way, but he had also seemed vain and, whatever he said to the contrary, much too surprised that a Muggle-born should make a good witch.
“Horace,” said Dumbledore, relieving Harry of the responsibility to say any of this, “likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat—more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack99 for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favorites with himself at the center, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favorite crystallized pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin liaison Office.”
Harry had a sudden and vivid mental image of a great swollen100 spider, spinning a web around it, twitching101 a thread here and there to bring its large and juicy flies a little closer.
“I tell you all this,” Dumbledore continued, “not to turn you against Horace—or, as we must now call him, Professor Slughorn—but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you, Harry. You would be the jewel of his collection; ‘the Boy Who Lived'... or, as they call you these days, ‘the Chosen One.'”
At these words, a chill that had nothing to do with the surrounding mist stole over Harry. He was reminded of words he had heard a few weeks ago, words that had a horrible and particular meaning to him:
Neither can live while the other survives...
Dumbledore had stopped walking, level with the church they had passed earlier.
“This will do, Harry. If you will grasp my arm.”
Braced102 this time, Harry was ready for the Apparition, but still found it unpleasant. When the pressure disappeared and he found himself able to breathe again, he was standing in a country lane beside Dumbledore and looking ahead to the crooked103 silhouette104 of his second favorite building in the world: the Burrow105. In spite of the feeling of dread106 that had just swept through him, his spirits could not help but lift at the sight of it. Ron was in there... and so was Mrs. Weasley, who could cook better than anyone he knew...
“If you don't mind, Harry,” said Dumbledore, as they passed through the gate, “I'd like a few words with you before we part. In private. Perhaps in here?”
Dumbledore pointed toward a run-down stone outhouse where the Weasleys kept their broomsticks. A little puzzled, Harry followed Dumbledore through the creaking door into a space a little smaller than the average cupboard. Dumbledore illuminated the tip of his wand, so that it glowed like a torch, and smiled down at Harry.
“I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it, Harry, but I am pleased and a little proud at how well you seem to be coping after everything that happened at the Ministry. Permit me to say that I think Sirius would have been proud of you.”
Harry swallowed; his voice seemed to have deserted him. He did not think he could stand to discuss Sirius; it had been painful enough to hear Uncle Vernon say “His godfather's dead?” and even worse to hear Sirius's name thrown out casually107 by Slughorn.
“It was cruel,” said Dumbledore softly, “that you and Sirius had such a short time together. A brutal108 ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship.”
Harry nodded, his eyes fixed109 resolutely on the spider now climbing Dumbledore's hat. He could tell that Dumbledore understood, that he might even suspect that until his letter arrived, Harry had spent nearly all his time at the Dursleys’ lying on his bed, refusing meals, and staring at the misted window, full of the chill emptiness that he had come to associate with dementors.
“It's just hard,” Harry said finally, in a low voice, “to realize he won't write to me again.”
His eyes burned suddenly and he blinked. He felt stupid for admitting it, but the fact that he had had someone outside Hogwarts who cared what happened to him, almost like a parent, had been one of the best things about discovering his godfather... and now the post owls110 would never bring him that comfort again...
“Sirius represented much to you that you had never known before,” said Dumbledore gently. “Naturally, the loss is devastating111...”
“But while I was at the Dursleys'...” interrupted Harry, his voice growing stronger, “I realized I can't shut myself away or—or crack up. Sirius wouldn't have wanted that, would he? And anyway, life's too short... Look at Madam Bones, look at Emmeline Vance... It could be me next, couldn't it? But if it is,” he said fiercely, now looking straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes gleaming in the wandlight, “I'll make sure I take as many Death Eaters with me as I can, and Voldemort too if I can manage it.”
“Spoken both like your mother and father's son and Sirius's true godson!” said Dumbledore, with an approving pat on Harry's back. “I take my hat off to you—or I would, if I were not afraid of showering you in spiders.
“And now, Harry, on a closely related subject... I gather that you have been taking the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?”
“Yes,” said Harry, and his heart beat a little faster.
“Then you will have seen that there have been not so much leaks as floods concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?”
“Yes,” said Harry again. “And now everyone knows that I'm the one—”
“No, they do not,” interrupted Dumbledore. “There are only two people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort, and they are both standing in this smelly, spidery broom shed. It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you.
“Now, I think I am correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?”
“No,” said Harry.
“A wise decision, on the whole,” said Dumbledore. “Although I think you ought to relax it in favor of your friends, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger. Yes,” he continued, when Harry looked startled, “I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding112 something this important to them.”
“I didn't want —”
“— to worry or frighten them?” said Dumbledore, surveying Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away.”
Harry said nothing, but Dumbledore did not seem to require an answer. He continued, “On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year.”
“Private—with you?” said Harry, surprised out of his preoccupied113 silence.
“Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education.”
“What will you be teaching me, sir?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that,” said Dumbledore airily.
Harry waited hopefully, but Dumbledore did not elaborate, so he asked something else that had been bothering him slightly.
“If I'm having lessons with you, I won't have to do Occlumency lessons with Snape, will I?”
“Professor Snape, Harry—and no, you will not.”
“Good,” said Harry in relief, “because they were a —”
He stopped, careful not to say what he really thought.
“I think the word ‘fiasco’ would be a good one here,” said Dumbledore, nodding.
Harry laughed.
“Well, that means I won't see much of Professor Snape from now on,” he said, “because he won't let me carry on Potions unless I get ‘Outstanding’ in my O.W.L., which I know I haven't.”
“Don't count your owls before they are delivered,” said Dumbledore gravely. “Which, now I think of it, ought to be some time later today. Now, two more things, Harry, before we part.
“Firstly, I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onward114. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?”
Harry nodded.
“And lastly, while you stay here, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly—all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment115 if you risked your neck while staying with them.”
“I understand,” said Harry quickly.
“Very well, then,” said Dumbledore, pushing open the broom shed door and stepping out into the yard. “I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore116 how thin you are.”
虽然说在过去的几天里，哈利只要是醒着，就会企盼邓布利多真的能来接他，但当他们真正从女贞路出发的时候，他又本能地觉得有些不自在了。在霍格沃茨外面，哈利和他的校长在严格意义上还从来没有说过什么话；他们之间总是隔着办公室的那张桌子。去年最后一次见面的情景常常闯入他的回忆之中，这也很大程度上增加了哈利的尴尬；当时他吼叫得那么厉害，更别说还肆意地摔碎了一些邓布利多最珍视的财产。
然而，邓布利多看上去却很非常轻松。
“拿着你的魔杖，保持警惕，哈利，”他机警地说。
“但我想我是不允许在学校外面施魔法的，教授？”
“如果有人攻击你，”邓布利多说，“我允许你使用任何你能想到反恶咒和破解咒。但是，我认为今晚你不必担心会受到攻击。”
“为什么，教授？”
“因为你和我在一起，”邓布利多简单地说。“这就够了，哈利。”
他走到女贞路的尽头时突然停住了。
“当然，你应该还没有通过你的幻影显形测试吧？”他说。
“是啊，”哈利说。“我想我必须要到17岁才行吧？”
“对，”邓布利多说。“所以，你需要紧紧抓住我的胳膊，我的左臂，如果你不介意的话——你已经注意到，我用魔杖的手现在有些脆弱。”
哈利抓紧了邓布利多伸过来的前臂。
“很好，”邓布利多说。“那么，我们走吧。”
哈利感到邓布利多的手正在挣脱他，于是又用力把它握紧：紧接着一切都暗了下来；有东西从四面八方朝他猛烈地挤压过来；他感到无法呼吸，似乎正被铁做的带子束缚着他的胸口；眼球都快被挤进脑子里了；耳膜也被深深压进了头颅，然后——
他深深地吸了一口夜晚寒冷的空气，睁开泪汪汪的双眼。他觉得自己就像刚刚穿过了一个密不透风的橡胶管。过了好几秒他才意识到女贞路已经不见了。现在他和邓布利多站在一个荒废的乡村广场上，广场的正中间立着一座陈旧的战争纪念碑，还有一些长椅子。哈利的思维跟上了感觉，他意识到刚刚做了这辈子第一次的幻影显形。
“你还好吗？”邓布利多热切地看着他问，“这种感觉确实需要慢慢习惯。”
“我很好，”哈利揉着那双看似极不情愿离开女贞路的耳朵。“但是我想我还是更喜欢用飞天扫帚……”
邓布利多笑了，他把系在脖子上的旅行斗篷紧了紧，然后说，“往这边走。”
他迈着轻快的步子经过了一家空荡荡的小酒店和几幢房子，根据附近一座教堂的钟上面的显示，现在已经是午夜了。
“那么告诉我，哈利，”邓布利多说。“你的伤疤……有没有疼过？”
哈利下意识地抬起手摸了摸他前额上闪电形状的标记。
“没有疼过了，”他说，“我一直很奇怪。现在伏地魔又强大起来，我还以为我的伤疤会不断地疼呢。”
他偷偷看了一眼邓布利多，发现他脸上带着一副满意的表情。
“我却不这么认为，”邓布利多说。“伏地魔终于还是意识到让你尽情地侵入他的思想和感觉是多么危险的一件事。看来他正在用大脑封闭术对付你。”
“哦，那真没什么可抱怨，”哈利说，他既不想记起那些烦扰的梦，也不会怀念进入伏地魔思想的那惊恐的一瞬。
他们转过一个弯，路过一个电话亭和一个公共汽车站。哈利又侧过头看了看邓布利多。
“教授？”
“哈利？”
“呃——我们这是要去哪儿？”
“哈利，这里是迷人的巴德利·巴贝尔顿村。”
“那我们到这儿来干什么？”
“啊，是啊，当然，我还没有告诉你呢，”邓布利多说。“唉，这几年来我都已经数不清楚说了多少次，但是我们又一次面临着教员短缺。我们到这儿来是为了劝说我的一位老同事重新出山，回到霍格沃茨。”
“我要怎么才能帮上忙呢，教授？”
“哦，我想你会找到自己的作用的，”邓布利多含糊地说。“走吧，哈利。”
他们走上了一个陡峭、狭窄的小道，两边都是整齐的房子。所有的窗户都黑着。盘踞在女贞路上长达两周的古怪寒意一直延续到了这里。哈利想到了摄魂怪，他回头望了望，握紧了口袋里的魔杖。
“教授，为什么我们不直接幻影显形到你老同事的家里呢？”
“因为这就像踢翻人家的大门一样粗鲁，”邓布利多说。“礼节要求我们为我们的巫师朋友提供一个拒绝我们进入的机会。不管怎样，大多数的巫师住宅都用了魔法保护来对付幻影显形的不速之客。比如说，霍格沃茨——”
“——在霍格沃茨的建筑物和场地里都不能幻影显形，”哈利马上说。“赫敏·格兰杰告诉过我。”
“她说得很对，我们再向左转。”
他们身后的教堂响起了午夜的钟声。哈利有些疑惑，为什么邓布利多不觉得这么晚还来拜访他的老同事是一件颇无礼的事，但既然已经挑起了话头，他还有更多紧迫的问题要问。
“教授，我看到《预言家日报》上说福吉被解职了……”
“是啊，”邓布利多说，拐进了一条陡峭的小支巷。“他被替换了，我相信你也知道，是被鲁弗斯·斯克林杰所代替，前傲罗办公室负责人。”
“那他…你觉得他好吗？”哈利问。
“一个有趣的问题，”邓布利多说。“他当然很能干。他具有比康奈利更果敢和强硬的个性。”
“是的，但是我的意思是——”
“我知道你的意思。鲁弗斯是一个行动派，他职业生涯的大部分时间都用在了对抗黑巫师上，并且也没有低估伏地魔的实力。”
哈利等待着，但是邓布利多却没有提及《预言家日报》报道的他和斯克林杰之间的争论，他没有勇气追问下去，只好换了个话题。
“还有……教授……我看见了博恩斯夫人的消息。”
“是的，”邓布利多轻声说。“一个糟糕的损失。她是一名优秀的女巫。从这儿往上走，我想——哎唷。”
他刚才用了受伤的手指路。
“教授，你的手怎么——？”
“我现在没有时间解释这个，”邓布利多说。“这是一个让人毛骨悚然的故事，我真希望能自如地用我手。”
他对着哈利笑了笑，于是哈利知道他没有责怪的意思，并且还可以继续提问。
“教授——我收到一封猫头鹰邮递的来自魔法部的宣传手册，是有关那些我们对付食死徒时需要采取的安全措施……”
“是的，我自己也收到一封，”邓布利多仍然微笑着，“你觉得它有用吗？”
“其实并不觉得。”
“不，我不认为是这样。比如说，你就没有问我最喜欢什么口味的果酱，来验证我确实是邓布利多教授而不是一个冒牌货。”
“我没有……”哈利开始说道，他并不完全确定邓布利多是不是在责备自己。
“也许将来用得着，哈利，我最喜欢的是覆盆子口味……不过，如果我是一个食死徒，我肯定会在扮成邓布利多之前调查他最喜欢什么口味的果酱。”
“呃……对啊，”哈利说。“嗯，那封信上说了一些关于阴飞力的事情，它们究竟是什么呢？那份宣传手册上也没讲明白。”
“它们是僵尸，”邓布利多平静地说。“被施了魔法的死尸，听命于黑巫师。自从伏地魔最后一次的掌权结束之后，阴飞力已经很长一段时间没有出现了……当然，那时候他杀死了足够多的人来组成一支大军。我们到了，哈利，就是这儿……”
他们走近一所矮小、整洁的石头房子，它坐落在一片自带的园地中。哈利正忙着消化那个关于阴飞力的可怕念头，而没有多余的注意力来关注其他的东西，但是当他们走到大门口的时候，邓布利多突然停住了，于是哈利撞到了他的身上。
“哦，天哪。哦，天哪，天哪，天哪。”
哈利的目光顺着被精心护理过的门前小径看过去，感觉心猛地一沉。前门没有栓着。
邓布利多来回扫视着那条小街。它看上去空无一人。
“拿出你的魔杖跟着我，哈利，”他轻声说。
他推开院子的门，快步走过园子里的小径，哈利紧跟在他后面，邓布利多缓缓地推了一把前门，举起了他的魔杖。
“荧光闪烁。”
邓布利多的魔杖尖被点亮了，照亮了一条狭窄的走廊。走廊左边是另一扇敞开的门。邓布利多高高举起他的魔杖走进了那间起居室，哈利紧紧跟在他后面。
呈现在他们面前的是一片狼藉的景象。一只裂开的老爷钟横躺在他们脚下，钟面支离破碎的，他的钟摆躺在离他们稍远的地方，像一把落在地上的剑。它旁边摆着一架钢琴，琴键撒了一地。一个摔下来的吊灯残骸在一边发着闪闪的光。垫子都被压得扁扁的，羽毛从旁边的侧缝里漏出来；被砸得粉碎的玻璃和瓷器落得到处都是。邓布利多把他的魔杖举得更高一些，使光可以照到墙上，墙纸上溅满了一些粘糊糊的暗红色东西。哈利轻轻抽了口气，邓布利多转过来看着他。
“不太漂亮，对不对，”他沉重地说。“是啊，这里发生了些可怕的事情。”
邓布利多小心翼翼地走到房间的正中间，仔细察看着脚下的家具残骸。哈利跟着走过来，环顾着四周，他惊恐不定地怀疑有什么东西藏在钢琴和被打翻的沙发背后，但其实那里什么都没有。
“说不定这里发生过搏斗——然后，他们拖走了他，教授？”哈利猜测说，努力不去想象一个人要伤得多么严重才能在墙的半中腰溅上这么多血迹。
“我不这么认为，”邓布利多轻声说，瞥了一眼他身后一个过于臃肿的扶手椅。
“你的意思是他——”
“还在这里的某处？是的。”
没有任何预先警告，邓布利多闪电般地扑过去，把魔杖的尖端戳进了那把臃肿的扶手椅的座位，只听见一声大叫，“哎唷！”
“晚上好，贺瑞斯，”邓布利多一边说一边直起身子。
哈利的下巴差点掉了下来。刚才还摆着一张扶手椅的地方瞬时出现了一个蜷缩着的肥胖、秃顶的老男人，他一边用手揉着肚子，一边用他水汪汪的眼睛愁闷地看着邓布利多。
“没必要那样用力地戳我，”他粗声粗气地说，挣扎着站了起来。“会受伤的。”
魔杖发出的光照着他闪亮的光头、突起的眼睛和一大把海象一般的银色胡须，他身上那件栗色天鹅绒夹克衫上的扣子被擦得闪闪发亮，里面穿者一件丁香色的丝绸睡衣。他站直了身子，不过却只能够到邓布利多的下巴。
“我是怎么暴露的？”他一边摇摇晃晃地站起来，嘴里一边嘟囔着，手还在揉着肚子。他一点儿也不为被发现装成一把扶手椅而感到害羞。
“我亲爱的贺瑞斯，”邓布利看上去很开心，“要是食死徒真的来拜访过你的话，他们会留下黑魔标记的。”
那个巫师用他肥胖的手在宽广的前额上拍了一下。
“黑魔标记，”他喃喃自语。“就知道有什么地方出了问题……啊对。可我也来不及变出那个了。你们进来之前我才刚做好最后一点儿伪装。”
他重重地叹了口气，把胡子的末端吹得一动一动的。
“你想让我帮你收拾收拾吗？”邓布利多礼貌的说。
“请吧，”他说。
他们背靠背站着，一个高瘦的巫师和一个矮胖的巫师，用一个同样的动作挥舞了一下他们的魔杖。
家具都飞回了原来的地方；装饰品在半空中就复原了；羽毛急速地钻进他们的垫子；被扯烂的书回到架子上之后修复如初；油灯高高地飞到旁边的桌子重新亮了起来；一大堆银质画框的碎片闪着光飞过房间，然后完好地落到桌子上，又变成了灰扑扑的老模样；屋子里各处的裂缝和缺口都不见了；墙上的血迹也一扫而空。
“顺便问一句，那是什么东西的血？”邓布利多响亮地说，声音盖过了那座复生的老爷钟所发出的报时声。
“墙上的？是龙血，”那个叫贺瑞斯的巫师大声叫道，随着一声震耳欲聋的磨擦声和清脆的响声，那盏吊灯自己回到了天花板上并拧紧了螺丝。
钢琴最后砰地响了一声，而后一切归于平静。
“是啊，龙血，”那个巫师自言自语地重复道，“我的最后一瓶，现在的价钱都高到天上去了。不过，这个还能再用。”
他蹒跚地走过去，取下了餐柜顶上的一个小水晶瓶，然后把它举到灯光下检查里面粘稠的液体。
“嗯。还成。”
他把瓶子又放回餐柜，叹了口气。然后他的目光落到了哈利身上。
“哦，”他圆圆的大眼睛盯着哈利带着那个闪电形的伤疤的前额。“哦！”
“这位，”邓布利多上前去介绍，“是哈利·波特。哈利，这是我的老朋友以及老同事，贺瑞斯·斯拉霍恩。”
斯拉霍恩转向邓布利多，表情显得很精明。
“你认为这样就能说服我，是吗？那么，我的答案是不，阿不思。”
他从哈利身边挤了过去，脸上的表情变得很坚决，似乎在抵制什么诱惑。
“我想至少我们可以喝一杯？”邓布利多问。“看在老交情的份上。”
斯拉霍恩迟疑着。
“那么好吧，就喝一杯，”他粗鲁地说。
邓布利多朝哈利笑了笑，领着他走到刚燃起来的壁炉和油灯边，坐在一把椅子上，这把椅子和斯拉霍恩刚才假扮那把的看上去没什么两样。哈利坐了下来，清楚地感觉到邓布利多出于某个原因，想要让他越显眼越好。于是当斯拉霍恩忙活完那些瓶瓶罐罐，把脸再次转向屋子的时候，他的目光立即落在了哈利身上。
“哼，”他赶紧移开了目光，似乎是害怕会伤着眼睛。“接着——”他递了一杯给已经坐好的邓布利多，然后把盘子推给哈利，自己一屁股坐进了那个刚刚复原的沙发的坐垫上，闷闷不乐地一句话也不说。他的腿是那么短，甚至连地板也够不着。
“那么，近来可好，贺瑞斯？”邓布利多问。
“不怎么样，”斯拉霍恩马上回答道。“胸口痛。常常气喘。还有风湿病。不像我从前那样灵活了。唉，这也在意料之中。老啦。累啦。”
“但从刚才你为我们准备的欢迎仪式上看，你的动作还是挺麻利的，”邓布利多说。“你只有不足三分钟时间，不是吗？”
斯拉霍恩一半暴躁一半骄傲地说，“两分钟而已。我正在洗澡，没注意到入侵咒的警报。还有，”他坚决地补充道，看上去像是要把自己拉回来一样，“现在的情况是我已经是个老头子了，阿不思，一个疲倦的老人有权利过平静和衣食无忧的生活。”
他确实拥有这些，哈利一边想一边环视着这间屋子。这里既乏味又混乱，但绝对称得上是舒适宜人；有柔软的椅子和脚凳，有酒和书，有大盒的巧克力和鼓鼓的坐垫。如果哈利不知道谁住在这儿，那他一定会猜测这里住着一个富有的、爱挑剔的老太太。
“你可不如我老，贺瑞斯，”邓布利多说。
“嗯，也许你自己该想想退休的事儿了。”斯拉霍恩生硬地说。他暗淡的栗色眼睛发现了邓布利多受伤的手。“我注意到，你的反应也大不如前了。”
“你说得对，”邓布利多平静地说，他把袖子卷起来，露出了烧得发黑的手指尖；这种景象让哈利的后脖子感到一阵不舒服的刺痛。“我毫不否认我比从前要慢。但从另外一个角度来说……”
他耸了耸肩，摊开了双手，好像要说岁月也能给人补偿，哈利注意到他那只没受伤的手上戴着一枚他从未见过的戒指：它看上去很大，好像是由黄金一类的东西粗陋地制成，中间还镶嵌着一颗深黑色的石头。斯拉霍恩的眼睛在戒指上游移了一会儿，哈利发现那一瞬他微微蹙了蹙眉头。
“那么，这些抵御入侵者的防范措施，贺瑞斯……是为了对付食死徒，还是对付我啊？”邓布利多问道。
“食死徒们要一个可怜巴巴、年老体衰的充气垫做什么用？” 斯拉霍恩问。
“我想他们可能是要利用你不可忽视的天份去搞威逼、折磨和谋杀，”邓布利多说。“你真的要告诉我他们还没有来招募你？”
斯拉霍恩恶狠狠地盯着邓布利多看了一会儿，然后嘀咕道，“我没有给过他们机会。我已经漂泊了一年。从来没有在同一个地方待足一个礼拜。从一个麻瓜的房子搬到另一个麻瓜的房子——这个地方的主人正在加那利群岛上度假。这里非常舒适，一想到要离开就觉得很难过。其实只要你知道该怎么做就很简单，只要你在这些他们用来防夜贼的自动警铃——他们用这种愚蠢的东西来代替窥镜——上施一个冰冻魔咒，同时确保邻居们不会发现你把钢琴带进来就成了。
“很有独创性，”邓布利多说。“但追求安静的生活听起来还是件相当辛苦的差使，特别是对于一个可怜巴巴、年老体衰的充气垫来说。而如果你回到霍格沃茨——”
“如果你要告诉我在那个遭瘟的破学校里，我的生活能过得更平静的话，你可以省省力气了，阿不思！我虽然一直东躲西藏的，但是自从多洛雷斯·乌姆里奇离开之后一些有趣的谣言就传到我耳朵里了！如果那就是你现在对待老师们的方式——”
“乌姆里奇教授与我们的马人部落发生了冲突，”邓布利多说道。“我认为你，贺瑞斯，应该不会去大步走进森林，然后对着一群愤怒的马人部落大叫‘肮脏的杂种’吧。”
“这就是她干的好事，是吗？”斯拉霍恩说。“愚蠢的女人。从来都不喜欢她。”
哈利咯咯地笑了起来，邓布利多和斯拉霍恩都转过来看着他。
“对不起，”哈利立刻说。“只是——我也不喜欢她。”
邓布利多突然站了起来。
“你要走了吗？”斯拉霍恩马上说，看上去显得很期待。
“不，我只是在想我能不能用你的洗手间，”邓布利多说。
“哦，”斯拉霍恩明显有些失望。“大厅往左第二个就是。”
邓布利多走出了房间。当房门在他身后关上时，屋子里一片寂静。过了一会儿，斯拉霍恩站了起来，但看上去自己都不知道要做什么。他偷偷地瞟了哈利一眼，然后走到炉火旁边把背靠过去暖和。
“不要以为我不知道他为什么要把你带来，”他唐突地说。
哈利只是看着斯拉霍恩。斯拉霍恩水汪汪的眼睛扫过哈利的伤疤，这次，他看到了哈利脸上的其他部分。
“你长得真像你父亲。”
“是啊，有人告诉过我了，”哈利说。
“除了你的眼睛，你有一双——”
“我母亲的眼睛，是的。”哈利听到这句话的次数已经足够令他厌烦了。
“哼。是啊，好。当然作为一个老师不应该有偏爱的学生，但她却还是我最喜欢的学生之一。你的母亲，”斯拉霍恩补充道，回答了哈利询问的眼神。“也就是莉莉·伊万斯。我教过的最聪明的学生之一，很活泼，你知道。一个可爱的女孩。我一直在告诉她，她应该到我的学院来。可每次都被她顶撞回来。”
“哪个是你的学院？”
“我那时候是斯莱特林学院的院长，”斯拉霍恩说。“哦，现在，”他飞快地说下去，看到哈利脸上的表情，于是对他晃了晃粗短的手指，“不要为了那个抵触我！我猜你应该是和她一样在格兰芬多吧。是啊，一般来说都有家族遗传。尽管也不总是这样。听说过小天狼星布莱克吗？你肯定知道——过去的两年他一直上报纸——几个星期前死了——”
仿佛有一只无形的手紧紧地抓住了哈利的肠子。
“嗯，不管怎样，他是你父亲在学校时的好兄弟。整个布莱克家族都来自我的学院，只有小天狼星从格兰芬多毕业了！可惜啊——他是个天资聪颖的男孩。我教过他的弟弟雷古勒斯，但是我更愿意要一套完整的。”
他听起来就像一个正在参加拍卖的热情洋溢的收藏家。很显然正沉浸在回忆之中，他凝视着对面的墙壁，同时漫无目的地转着他的后背，好让各处都能烤得到。
“当然你母亲是麻瓜家庭出身。当我发现这一点时简直难以置信，我以为像她这样优秀的巫师肯定是纯血统的。”
“我有一个最好的朋友也是麻瓜家庭出身的，”哈利说，“她是我们年级最棒的一个。”
“有趣的是，这种情况时不时就会发生，对不对？”斯拉霍恩说。
“不这么认为。”哈利冷冷地说。
斯拉霍恩惊讶地低头看着他。
“你可不要认为我怀有偏见！”他说。“不，不，不！我刚才不是说了你母亲是我一生中最喜爱的学生之一吗？还有低她一个年级的德克·克雷斯韦——现在是妖精联络处的负责人，当然——他也是麻瓜家庭出身，一个非常有天赋的学生，而且现在都还在向我提供极好的内部消息，使我能洞悉古灵阁里的一举一动！”
他略略上下调整了一下身子，心满意足地微笑着，然后他指向了碗橱上许多闪闪发亮的照片相框，每一个里面都有一个微微动着的头像。
“所有我从前的学生，都给我签了名。你会看到巴拿巴·库菲，是《预言家日报》的编辑，他总是喜欢听取我对每天新闻的看法。还有安布罗修斯·弗卢姆，在蜂蜜公爵工作——我每次生日他都要送来一篮子糖果，就因为我给他引见了向他提供第一份工作的西塞隆·哈基斯！在他们后面——你伸伸脖子就能看到——那是格文诺·琼斯，当然是霍利黑德哈比队的队长……人们在听说我和哈比队队员关系如此熟络时总是很吃惊，而且无论何时我都能弄到免费的门票！”
这似乎令他兴奋异常。
“所有的这些人都知道在哪里可以找到你，给你东西？”哈利问道，既然说连装满糖果的篮子、魁地奇球赛门票和希望得到他意见的访问者都能找到他，难以置信为什么食死徒至今还没有追捕到斯拉霍恩。
他脸上的微笑像墙上的血迹一样迅速消失了。
“当然不是，”他低头看着哈利。“我已经有一年没有和任何人联系了。”
哈利觉得这句话对斯拉霍恩无疑是个打击，他似乎迟疑
收听单词发音 |
1
desperately
|
|
| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
harry
|
|
| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
intruding
|
|
| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
embarrassment
|
|
| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
abrupt
|
|
| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
apparition
|
|
| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
proffered
|
|
| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
tightening
|
|
| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
skull
|
|
| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
gulped
|
|
| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
solicitously
|
|
| adv.热心地，热切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
retirement
|
|
| n.退休，退职 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
vaguely
|
|
| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
reassuringly
|
|
| ad.安心，可靠 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
dictates
|
|
| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
dwellings
|
|
| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
pointed
|
|
| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
ministry
|
|
| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
owl
|
|
| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
illuminated
|
|
| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
devastation
|
|
| n.毁坏；荒废；极度震惊或悲伤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
pendulum
|
|
| n.摆，钟摆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
wreckage
|
|
| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
wreck
|
|
| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
deflated
|
|
| adj. 灰心丧气的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
oozing
|
|
| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
slashes
|
|
| n.（用刀等）砍( slash的名词复数 )；（长而窄的）伤口；斜杠；撒尿v.挥砍( slash的第三人称单数 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
glutinous
|
|
| adj.粘的，胶状的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
intake
|
|
| n.吸入，纳入；进气口，入口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
scrutinizing
|
|
| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
halfway
|
|
| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
swooped
|
|
| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
plunging
|
|
| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
jaw
|
|
| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
crouched
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
massaging
|
|
| 按摩，推拿( massage的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
belly
|
|
| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
squinting
|
|
| 斜视( squint的现在分词 )； 眯着眼睛； 瞟； 从小孔或缝隙里看 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
aggrieved
|
|
| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
watery
|
|
| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
pate
|
|
| n.头顶；光顶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
maroon
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
velvet
|
|
| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
pajamas
|
|
| n.睡衣裤 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
grunted
|
|
| （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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
remarkably
|
|
| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
sweeping
|
|
| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
ornaments
|
|
| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
zoomed
|
|
| v.（飞机、汽车等）急速移动( zoom的过去式 )；（价格、费用等）急升，猛涨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
deafening
|
|
| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
tinkling
|
|
| n.丁当作响声 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
conversationally
|
|
| adv.会话地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
stumped
|
|
| 僵直地行走，跺步行走( stump的过去式和过去分词 )； 把（某人）难住； 使为难； （选举前）在某一地区作政治性巡回演说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
resolutely
|
|
| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
rheumatism
|
|
| n.风湿病 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
fatigue
|
|
| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
irritably
|
|
| ad.易生气地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
stuffy
|
|
| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
cluttered
|
|
| v.杂物，零乱的东西零乱vt.( clutter的过去式和过去分词 )；乱糟糟地堆满，把…弄得很乱；（以…） 塞满… | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
fussy
|
|
| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
pal
|
|
| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
serenely
|
|
| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
undoubtedly
|
|
| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
shrugged
|
|
| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
crease
|
|
| n.折缝，褶痕，皱褶；v.(使)起皱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
buffer
|
|
| n.起缓冲作用的人(或物)，缓冲器；vt.缓冲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
coercion
|
|
| n.强制，高压统治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
rumors
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
centaur
|
|
| n.人首马身的怪物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
horde
|
|
| n.群众，一大群 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
centaurs
|
|
| n.（希腊神话中）半人半马怪物( centaur的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
chuckled
|
|
| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
furtive
|
|
| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
abruptly
|
|
| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
vivacious
|
|
| adj.活泼的，快活的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
intestines
|
|
| n.肠( intestine的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
auction
|
|
| n.拍卖；拍卖会；vt.拍卖 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
apparently
|
|
| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
liaison
|
|
| n.联系，（未婚男女间的）暖昧关系，私通 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
hamper
|
|
| vt.妨碍，束缚，限制；n.(有盖的)大篮子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
hampers
|
|
| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
craving
|
|
| n.渴望,热望 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
prudent
|
|
| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
phoenix
|
|
| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
cosseted
|
|
| v.宠爱，娇养，纵容( cosset的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
crouching
|
|
| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
grudgingly
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
trespassed
|
|
| （trespass的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
salute
|
|
| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
doorway
|
|
| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
swirling
|
|
| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
knack
|
|
| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
swollen
|
|
| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
twitching
|
|
| n.颤搐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
braced
|
|
| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
crooked
|
|
| adj.弯曲的；不诚实的，狡猾的，不正当的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
silhouette
|
|
| n.黑色半身侧面影，影子，轮廓；v.描绘成侧面影，照出影子来，仅仅显出轮廓 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
burrow
|
|
| vt.挖掘(洞穴)；钻进；vi.挖洞；翻寻；n.地洞 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
casually
|
|
| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
brutal
|
|
| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
owls
|
|
| n.猫头鹰( owl的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
devastating
|
|
| adj.毁灭性的，令人震惊的，强有力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
confiding
|
|
| adj.相信人的，易于相信的v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的现在分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
preoccupied
|
|
| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
onward
|
|
| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
repayment
|
|
| n.偿还，偿还款；报酬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
deplore
|
|
| vt.哀叹，对...深感遗憾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |