All lessons were suspended, all examinations postponed1. Some students were hurried away from Hogwarts by their parents over the next couple of days—the Patil twins
were gone before breakfast on the morning following Dumbledore's death and Zacharias Smith was escorted from the castle by his haughty-looking father. Seamus Finnigan,
on the other hand, refused point-blank to accompany his mother home; they had a shouting match in the Entrance Hall which was resolved when she agreed that he could
remain behind for the funeral. She had difficulty in finding a bed in Hogsmeade, Seamus told Harry2 and Ron, for wizards and witches were pouring into the village,
preparing to pay their last respects to Dumbledore.
Some excitement was caused among the younger students, who had never seen it before, when a powder-blue carriage the size of a house, pulled by a dozen giant winged
palominos, came soaring out of the sky in the late afternoon before the funeral and landed on the edge of the Forest. Harry watched from a window as a gigantic and
handsome olive-skinned, black-haired woman descended3 the carriage steps and threw herself into the waiting Hagrid's arms. Meanwhile a delegation4 of Ministry5 officials,
including the Minister for Magic himself, was being accommodated within the castle. Harry was diligently6 avoiding contact with any of them; he was sure that, sooner or
later, he would be asked again to account for Dumbledore's last excursion from Hogwarts.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were spending all of their time together. The beautiful weather seemed to mock them; Harry could imagine how it would have been if
Dumbledore had not died, and they had had this time together at the very end of the year, Ginny's examinations finished, the pressure of homework lifted ... and hour by
hour, he put off saying the thing that he knew he must say, doing what he knew it was right to do, because it was too hard to forgo7 his best source of comfort.
They visited the hospital wing twice a day: Neville had been discharged, but Bill remained under Madam Pomfrey's care. His scars were as bad as ever; in truth, he now
bore a distinct resemblance to Mad-Eye Moody8, though thankfully with both eyes and legs, but in personality he seemed just the same as ever. All that appeared to have
changed was that he now had a great liking9 for very rare steaks.
“... so eet ees lucky ‘e is marrying me,” said Fleur happily, plumping up Bill's pillows, “because ze British overcook their meat, I ‘ave always said this.”
“I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really is going to marry her,” sighed Ginny later that evening, as she, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat beside the
open window of the Gryffindor common room, looking out over the twilit grounds.
“She's not that bad,” said Harry. “Ugly, though,” he added hastily, as Ginny raised her eyebrows10, and she let out a reluctant giggle11.
“Well, I suppose if Mum can stand it, I can.”
“Anyone else we know died?” Ron asked Hermione, who was perusing12 the Evening Prophet.
Hermione winced13 at the forced toughness in his voice.
“No,” she said reprovingly, folding up the newspaper. “They're still looking for Snape, but no sign ...”
“Of course there isn't,” said Harry, who became angry every time this subject cropped up. “They won't find Snape till they find Voldemort, and seeing as they've
never managed to do that in all this time ...”
“I'm going to go to bed,” yawned Ginny. “I haven't been sleeping that well since ... well ... I could do with some sleep.”
She kissed Harry (Ron looked away pointedly), waved at the other two and departed for the girls’ dormitories. The moment the door had closed behind her, Hermione
leaned forwards towards Harry with a most Hermione-ish look on her face.
“Harry, I found something out this morning, in the library ...”
“R.A.B.?” said Harry, sitting up straight.
He did not feel the way he had so often felt before, excited, curious, burning to get to the bottom of a mystery; he simply knew that the task of discovering the truth
about the real Horcrux had to be completed before he could move a little further along the dark and winding14 path stretching ahead of him, the path that he and
Dumbledore had set out upon together, and which he now knew he would have to journey alone. There might still be as many as four Horcruxes out there somewhere and each
would need to be found and eliminated before there was even a possibility that Voldemort could be killed. He kept reciting their names to himself, as though by listing
them he could bring them within reach: “the locket ... the cup ... the snake ... something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's ... the locket ... the cup ... the snake ...
something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's ...”
This mantra seemed to pulse through Harry's mind as he fell asleep at night, and his dreams were thick with cups, lockets and mysterious objects that he could not quite
reach, though Dumbledore helpfully offered Harry a rope ladder that turned to snakes the moment he began to climb ...
He had shown Hermione the note inside the locket the morning after Dumbledore's death, and although she had not immediately recognised the initials as belonging to some
obscure wizard about whom she had been reading, she had since been rushing off to the library a little more often than was strictly15 necessary for somebody who had no
homework to do.
“No,” she said sadly, “I've been trying, Harry, but I haven't found anything ... there are a couple of reasonably well-known wizards with those initials—Rosalind
Antigone Bungs ... Rupert “Axebanger” Brookstanton ... but they don't seem to fit at all. Judging by that note, the person who stole the Horcrux knew Voldemort, and I
can't find a shred16 of evidence that Bungs or Axebanger ever had anything to do with him ... no, actually, it's about ... well, Snape.”
She looked nervous even saying the name again.
“What about him?” asked Harry heavily, slumping17 back in his chair.
“Well, it's just that I was sort of right about the Half-Blood Prince business,” she said tentatively.
“D'you have to rub it in, Hermione? How do you think I feel about that now?”
“No—no—Harry, I didn't mean that!” she said hastily, looking around to check that they were not being overheard. “It's just that I was right about Eileen Prince
once owning the book. You see ... she was Snape's mother!”
“I thought she wasn't much of a looker,” said Ron. Hermione ignored him.
“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an
announcement saying that she'd given birth to a—”
“Well ... yes,” said Hermione. “So ... I was sort of right. Snape must have been proud of being “half a Prince", you see? Tobias Snape was a Muggle from what it
said in the Prophet.”
“Yeah, that fits,” said Harry. “He'd play up the pure-blood side so he could get in with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of them ... he's just like Voldemort. Pure-blood
mother, Muggie father ... ashamed of his parentage, trying to make himself feared using the Dark Arts, gave himself an impressive new name—Lord Voldemort—the Half-
Blood Prince—how could Dumbledore have missed—?”
He broke off, looking out of the window. He could not stop himself dwelling19 upon Dumbledore's inexcusable trust in Snape ... but as Hermione had just inadvertently
reminded him, he, Harry, had been taken in just the same ... in spite of the increasing nastiness of those scribbled20 spells, he had refused to believe ill of the boy
who had been so clever, who had helped him so much ...
Helped him ... it was an almost unendurable thought, now ...
“I still don't get why he didn't turn you in for using that book,” said Ron. “He must've known where you were getting it all from.”
“He knew,” said Harry bitterly. “He knew when I used Sectumsempra. He didn't really need Legilimency ... he might even have known before then, with Slughom talking
about how brilliant I was at Potions ... shouldn't have left his old book in the bottom of that cupboard, should he?”
“But why didn't he turn you in?”
“I don't think he wanted to associate himself with that book,” said Hermione. “I don't think Dumbledore would have liked it very much if he'd known. And even if
Snape pretended it hadn't been his, Slughom would have recognised his writing at once. Anyway, the book was left in Snape's old classroom, and I'll bet Dumbledore knew
his mother was called ‘Prince'.”
“I should've shown the book to Dumbledore,” said Harry. “All that time he was showing me how Voldemort was evil even when he was at school, and I had proof Snape
was, too—”
“‘Evil’ is a strong word,” said Hermione quietly.
“You were the one who kept telling me the book was dangerous!”
“I'm trying to say, Harry, that you're pulling too much blame on yourself. I thought the Prince seemed to have a nasty sense of humour, but I would never have guessed
he was a potential killer21 ...”
“None of us could've guessed Snape would ... you know,” said Ron.
Silence fell between them, each of them lost in their own thoughts, but Harry was sure that they, like him, were thinking about the following morning, when Dumbledore's
body would be laid to rest. Harry had never attended a funeral before; there had been no body to bury when Sirius had died. He did not know what to expect and was a
little worried about what he might see, about how he would feel. He wondered whether Dumbledore's death would be more real to him once the funeral was over. Though he
had moments when the horrible fact of it threatened to overwhelm him, there were blank stretches of numbness22 where, despite the fact that nobody was talking about
anything else in the whole castle, he still found it difficult to believe that Dumbledore had really gone. Admittedly he had not, as he had with Sirius, looked
desperately23 for some kind of loophole, some way that Dumbledore would come back ... he felt in his pocket for the cold chain of the fake Horcrux, which he now carried
with him everywhere, not as a talisman24, but as a reminder25 of what it had cost and what remained still to do.
Harry rose early to pack the next day; the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour after the funeral. Downstairs he found the mood in the Great Hall subdued26.
Everybody was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed very hungry. Professor McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff table empty.
Hagrid's chair was deserted27 too: Harry thought that perhaps he had not been able to face breakfast; but Snape's place had been unceremoniously filled by Rufus
Scrimgeour. Harry avoided his yellowish eyes as they scanned the Hall; Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Scrimgeour was looking for him. Among Scrimgeour's
entourage Harry spotted28 the red hair and horn-rimmed glasses of Percy Weasley. Ron gave no sign that he was aware of Percy, apart from stabbing pieces of kipper with
Over at the Slytherin table Crabbe and Goyle were muttering together. Hulking boys though they were, they looked oddly lonely without the tall, pale figure of Malfoy
between them, bossing them around. Harry had not spared Malfoy much thought. His animosity was all for Snape, but he had not forgotten the fear in Malfoy's voice on
that Tower top, nor the fact that he had lowered his wand before the other Death Eaters arrived. Harry did not believe that Malfoy would have killed Dumbledore. He
despised Malfoy still for his infatuation with the Dark Arts, but now the tiniest drop of pity mingled30 with his dislike. Where, Harry wondered, was Malfoy now, and what
was Voldemort making him do under threat of killing31 him and his parents?
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a nudge in the ribs32 from Ginny. Professor McGonagall had risen to her feet and the mournful hum in the Hall died away at once.
“It is nearly time,” she said. “Please follow your Heads of House out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me.”
They filed out from behind their benches in near silence. Harry glimpsed Slughorn at the head of the Slytherin column, wearing magnificent long emerald-green robes
embroidered33 with silver. He had never seen Professor Sprout34, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looking so clean; there was not a single patch on her hat, and when they reached
the Entrance Hall, they found Madam Pince standing35 beside Filch36, she in a thick black veil that fell to her knees, he in an ancient black suit and tie reeking37 of
mothballs.
They were heading, as Harry saw when he stepped out on to the stone steps from the front doors, towards the lake. The warmth of the sun caressed38 his face as they
followed Professor McGonagall in silence to the place where hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. An aisle39 ran down the centre of them: there was a marble table
standing at the front, all chairs facing it. It was the most beautiful summer's day.
An extraordinary assortment40 of people had already settled into half of the chairs: shabby and smart, old and young. Most Harry did not recognise, but there were a few
that he did, including members of the Order of the Phoenix41: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, her hair miraculously42 returned to vividest pink, Remus Lupin,
with whom she seemed to be holding hands, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill supported by Fleur and followed by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragonskin.
Then there was Madame Maxime, who took up two-and-a-half chairs on her own, Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella Figg, Harry's Squib neighbour, the hairy
bass43 player from the wizarding group the Weird44 bisters, Ernie Prang, driver of the Knight45 Bus, Madam Malkin, of the robe shop in Diagon Alley46, and some people whom
Harry merely knew by sight, such as the barman of the Hog's Head and the witch who pushed the trolley47 on the Hogwarts Express. The castle ghosts were there too, barely
visible in the bright sunlight, discernible only when they moved, shimmering48 insubstantially in the gleaming air.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny filed into seats at the end of a row beside the lake. People were whispering to each other; it sounded like a breeze in the grass, but
the birdsong was louder by far. The crowd continued to swell49; with a great rush of affection for both of them, Harry saw Neville being helped into a seat by Luna. They
alone of all the DA had responded to Hermione's summons the night that Dumbledore had died, and Harry knew why: they were the ones who had missed the DA most ...
probably the ones who had checked their coins regularly in the hope that there would be another meeting ...
Cornelius Fudge walked past them towards the front rows, his expression miserable50, twirling his green bowler51 hat as usual; Harry next recognised Rita Skeeter, who, he
was infuriated to see, had a notebook clutched in her red-taloned hand; and then, with a worse jolt52 of fury, Dolores Umbridge, an unconvincing expression of grief upon
her toadlike face, a black velvet53 bow set atop her iron-coloured curls. At the sight of the centaur54 Firenze, who was standing like a sentinel near the water's edge, she
gave a start and scurried55 hastily into a seat a good distance away.
The staff were seated at last. Harry could see Scrimgeour looking grave and dignified56 in the front row with Professor McGonagall. He wondered whether Scrimgeour or any
of these important people were really sorry that Dumbledore was dead. But then he heard music, strange otherworldly music and he forgot his dislike of the Ministry in
looking around for the source of it. He was not the only one: many heads were turning, searching, a little alarmed.
“In there,” whispered Ginny in Harry's ear.
And he saw them in the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, reminding him horribly of the Inferi; a chorus of merpeople singing in a strange language he
did not understand, their pallid57 faces rippling58, their purplish hair flowing all around them. The music made the hair on Harry's neck stand up and yet it was not
unpleasant. It spoke59 very clearly of loss and of despair. As he looked down into the wild faces of the singers he had the feeling that they, at least, were sorry for
Dumbledore's passing. Then Ginny nudged him again and he looked round.
Hagrid was walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. He was crying quite silently, his face gleaming with tears, and in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet
spangled with golden stars, was what Harry knew to be Dumbledore's body. A sharp pain rose in Harry's throat at this sight: for a moment, the strange music and the
knowledge that Dumbledore's body was so close seemed to take all warmth from the day. Ron looked white and shocked. Tears were falling thick and fast into both Ginny
and Hermione's laps.
They could not see clearly what was happening at the front. Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table. Now he retreated down the aisle, blowing his
nose with loud trumpeting60 noises that drew scandalised looks from some, including, Harry saw, Dolores Umbridge ... but Harry knew that Dumbledore would not have cared.
He tried to make a friendly gesture to Hagrid as he passed, but Hagrid's eyes were so swollen61 it was a wonder he could see where he was going. Harry glanced at the back
row to which Hagrid was heading and realised what was guiding him, for there, dressed in a jacket and trousers each the size of a small marquee, was the giant Grawp,
his great ugly boulder-like head bowed, docile62, almost human. Hagrid sat down next to his half-brother and Grawp patted Hagrid hard on the head, so that his chair legs
sank into the ground. Harry had a wonderful momentary63 urge to laugh. But then the music stopped and he turned to face the front again.
A little tufty-haired man in plain black robes had got to his feet and stood now in front of Dumbledore's body. Harry could not hear what he was saying. Odd words
floated back to them over the hundreds of beads64. “Nobility of spirit” ... “intellectual contribution” ... “greatness of heart” ... it did not mean very much. It
had little to do with Dumbledore as Harry had known him. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's idea of a few words: “nitwit", “oddment", “blubber” and “tweak", and
again, had to suppress a grin ... what was the matter with him?
There was a soft splashing noise to his left and he saw that the merpeople had broken the surface to listen, too. He remembered Dumbledore crouching65 at the water's edge
two years ago, very close to where Harry now sat, and conversing66 in Mermish with the Merchieftainess. Harry wondered where Dumbledore had learned Mermish. There was so
much he had never asked him, so much he should have said ...
And then, without warning, it swept over him, the dreadful truth, more completely and undeniably than it had until now. Dumbledore was dead, gone ... he clutched the
cold locket in his hand so tightly that it hurt, but he could not prevent hot tears spilling from his eyes: he looked away from Ginny and the others and stared out over
the lake, towards the Forest, as the little man in black droned on ... there was movement among the trees. The centaurs67 had come to pay their respects, too. They did
not move into the open but Harry saw them standing quite still, half-hidden in shadow, watching the wizards, their bows hanging at their sides. And Harry remembered his
first nightmarish trip into the Forest, the first time he had ever encountered the thing that was then Voldemort, and how he had faced him, and how he and Dumbledore
had discussed fighting a losing battle not long thereafter. It was important, Dumbledore said, to fight, and fight again, and keep fighting, for only then could evil be
kept at bay, though never quite eradicated68 ...
And Harry saw very clearly as be sat there under the hot sun how people who cared about him had stood in front of him one by one, his mother, his father, his godfather,
and finally Dumbledore, all determined69 to protect him; but now that was over. He could not let anybody else stand between him and Voldemort; he must abandon for ever
the illusion he ought to have lost at the age of one: that the shelter of a parent's arms meant that nothing could hurt him. There was no waking from his nightmare, no
comforting whisper in the dark that he was safe really, that it was all in his imagination; the last and greatest of his protectors had died and he was more alone than
he had ever been before.
The little man in black had stopped speaking at last and resumed his seat. Harry waited for somebody else to get to their feet; he expected speeches, probably from the
Minister, but nobody moved.
Then several people screamed. Bright, white flames had erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table upon which it lay: higher and higher they rose, obscuring the
body. White smoke spiralled into the air and made strange shapes: Harry thought, for one heart-stopping moment, that he saw a phoenix fly joyfully70 into the blue, but
next second the fire had vanished. In its place was a white marble tomb, encasing Dumbledore's body and the table on which he had rested.
There were a few more cries of shock as a shower of arrows soared through the air, but they fell far short of the crowd. It was, Harry knew, the centaurs’ tribute: he
saw them turn tail and disappear back into the cool trees. Likewise the merpeople sank slowly back into the green water and were lost from view.
Harry looked at Ginny, Ron and Hermione: Ron's face was screwed up as though the sunlight was blinding him. Hermione's face was glazed71 with tears, but Ginny was no
longer crying. She met Harry's gaze with the same hard, blazing look that he had seen when she had hugged him after winning the Quidditch Cup in his absence, and he
knew that at that moment they understood each other perfectly72, and that when he told her what he was going to do now, she would not say ‘Be careful', or ‘Don't do
it', but accept his decision, because she would not have expected anything less of him. And so he steeled himself to say what he had known he must say ever since
Dumbledore had died.
“Ginny, listen ...” he said very quietly, as the buzz of conversation grew louder around them and people began to get to their feet. “I can't be involved with you
any more. We've got to stop seeing each other. We can't be together.”
She said, with an oddly twisted smile, “It's for some stupid, noble reason, isn't it?”
“It's been like ... like something out of someone else's life, these last few weeks with you,” said Harry. “But I can't ... we can't ... I've got things to do alone
now.”
She did not cry, she simply looked at him.
“Voldemort uses people his enemies are close to. He's already used you as bait once, and that was just because you're my best friend's sister. Think how much danger
you'll be in if we keep this up. He'll know, he'll find out. He'll try and get to me through you.”
“What if I don't care?” said Ginny fiercely.
“I care,” said Harry. “How do you think I'd feel if this was your funeral ... and it was my fault ...”
She looked away from him, over the lake.
“I never really gave up on you,” she said. “Not really. I always hoped ... Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit
around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more—myself”
“Smart girl, that Hermione,” said Harry, trying to smile. “I just wish I'd asked you sooner. We could've had ages ... months ... years maybe ...”
“But you've been too busy saving the wizarding world,” said Ginny, half-laughing. “Well ... I can't say I'm surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew
you wouldn't be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that's why I like you so much.”
Harry could not bear to hear these things, nor did he think his resolution would hold if he remained sitting beside her. Ron, he saw, was now holding Hermione and
stroking her hair while she sobbed73 into his shoulder, tears dripping from the end of his own long nose. With a miserable gesture, Harry got up, turned his back on Ginny
and on Dumbledore's tomb and walked away around the lake. Moving felt much more bearable than sitting still: just as setting out as soon as possible to track down the
Horcruxes and kill Voldemort would feel better than waiting to do it ...
“Harry!”
He turned. Rufus Scrimgeour was limping rapidly towards him around the bank, leaning on his walking stick.
“I've been hoping to have a word ... do you mind if I walk a little way with you?”
“No,” said Harry indifferently, and set off again.
“Harry, this was a dreadful tragedy,” said Scrimgeour quietly, “I cannot tell you how appalled74 I was to hear of it. Dumbledore was a very great wizard. We had our
disagreements, as you know, but no one knows better than I—”
“What do you want?” asked Harry flatly.
Scrimgeour looked annoyed but, as before, hastily modified his expression to one of sorrowful understanding.
“You are, of course, devastated,” he said. “I know that you were very close to Dumbledore. I think you may have been his favourite ever pupil. The bond between the
two of you—”
“What do you want?” Harry repeated, coming to a halt.
Scrimgeour stopped too, leaned on his stick and stared at Harry, his expression shrewd now.
“The word is that you were with him when he left the school the night that he died.”
“Whose word?” said Harry.
“Somebody Stupefied a Death Eater on top of the Tower after Dumbledore died. There were also two broomsticks up there. The Ministry can add two and two, Harry.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Harry. “Well, where I went with Dumbledore and what we did is my business. He didn't want people to know.”
“Such loyalty75 is admirable, of course,” said Scrimgeour, who seemed to be restraining his irritation76 with difficulty,” but Dumbledore is gone, Harry. He's gone.”
“He will only be gone from the school when none here are loyal to him,” said Harry, smiling in spite of himself.
“My dear boy ... even Dumbledore cannot return from the—”
“I am not saying he can. You wouldn't understand. But I've got nothing to tell you.”
Scrimgeour hesitated, then said, in what was evidently supposed to be a tone of delicacy77, “The Ministry can offer you all sorts of protection, you know, Harry. I would
be delighted to place a couple of my Aurors at your service—”
Harry laughed.
“Voldemort wants to kill me himself and Aurors won't stop him. So thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”
“So,” said Scrimgeour, his voice cold now, “the request I made of you at Christmas—”
“What request? Oh yeah ... the one where I tell the world what a great job you're doing in exchange for —”
“—for raising everyone's morale78!” snapped Scrimgeour.
Harry considered him for a moment.
“Released Stan Shunpike yet?”
Scrimgeour turned a nasty purple colour highly reminiscent of Uncle Vernon.
“I see you are—”
“Dumbledore's man through and through,” said Harry. “That's right.”
Scrimgeour glared at him for another moment, then turned and limped away without another word. Harry could see Percy and the rest of the Ministry delegation waiting for
him, casting nervous glances at the sobbing79 Hagrid and Grawp, who were still in their seats. Ron and Hermione were hurrying towards Harry, passing Scrimgeour going in
the opposite direction; Harry turned and walked slowly on, waiting for them to catch up, which they finally did in the shade of a beech80 tree under which they had sat in
happier times.
“What did Scrimgeour want?” Hermione whispered.
“Same as he wanted at Christmas,” shrugged81 Harry. “Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry's new poster boy.”
Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, then he said loudly to Hermione, “Look, let me go back and hit Percy!”
“No,” she said firmly, grabbing his arm.
“It'll make me feel better!”
Harry laughed. Even Hermione grinned a little, though her smile faded as she looked up at the castle.
“I can't bear the idea that we might never come back.” she said softly. “How can Hogwarts close?”
“Maybe it won't,” said Ron. “We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more
wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?”
“I'm not coming back even if it does reopen,” said Harry.
Ron gaped82 at him, but Hermione said sadly,"I knew you were going to say that. But then what will you do?”
“I'm going back to the Dursleys’ once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to,” said Harry."But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good.”
“But where will you go if you don't come back to school?”
“I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow,” Harry muttered. He had had the idea in his head ever since the night of Dumbledore's death. “For me, it started
there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents’ graves, I'd like that.”
“And then what?” said Ron.
“Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?” said Harry, his eyes upon Dumbledore's white tomb, reflected in the water on the other side of the
lake. “That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right—and I'm sure he was—there are still four of them out there. I've
got to find them and destroy them and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to
kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape along the way,” he added, “so much the better for me, so much the worse for him.”
There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed83 now, the stragglers giving the monumental figure of Grawp a wide berth84 as he cuddled Hagrid, whose howls of
grief were still echoing across the water.
“We'll be there, Harry,” said Ron.
“What?”
“At your aunt and uncle's house,” said Ron. “And then we'll go with you, wherever you're going.”
“No—” said Harry quickly; he had not counted on this, he had meant them to understand that he was undertaking85 this most dangerous journey alone.
“You said to us once before,” said Hermione quietly, “that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?”
“We're with you whatever happens,” said Ron. “But, mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow.
”
“Why?”
“Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?”
Harry looked at him, startled; the idea that anything as normal as a wedding could still exist seemed incredible and yet wonderful.
“Yeah, we shouldn't miss that,” he said finally.
His hand closed automatically around the fake Horcrux, but in spite of everything, in spite of the dark and twisting path he saw stretching ahead for himself, in spite
of the final meeting with Voldemort he knew must come, whether in a month, in a year, or in ten, he felt his heart lift at the thought that there was still one last
golden day of peace left to enjoy with Ron and Hermione.
所有的课程都暂停了，所有的考试也都被延期了。在接下来的几天里，一些学生被他们的家长催着离开了霍格沃茨——邓布利多死后的第二天早上，佩蒂尔姐妹没吃早餐就走了；而扎卡赖斯·
史密斯则是被他那个看上去很傲慢的父亲从城堡护送回去的。另一方面，西莫·斐尼甘直截了当地拒绝了陪他妈妈回家；他们在门厅里赛着大喊大叫，最后他妈妈终于同意了他留在这里参加葬
礼。西莫告诉哈利和罗恩，他妈妈在霍格莫德很难找到一个床位，因为男女巫师都在往这个村子里涌，准备向邓布利多致以最后的敬意。
葬礼之前的那个傍晚，一辆有房子那么大、由十二匹银色鬃毛的飞马拉着的粉蓝色马车从天空中飞了出来，并停靠在了禁林的边缘，这个场面在那些没有见识它的低年级学生重引起了一阵
骚动。哈利从窗口望去，一位高大端庄、皮肤呈橄榄色的黑发女士从马车里下来，走过去与等候多时的海格拥抱。与此同时一个魔法部官员的代表团也住进了城堡，其中包括了魔法部部长本人
。哈利不知疲倦地回避着接触他们中的任何人；他敢肯定自己迟早会再次被要求解释邓布利多最后一次离开霍格沃茨的出行。
哈利、罗恩、赫敏和金妮整天都待在一起。好天气似乎是在戏弄他们；哈利可以想象到如果邓布利多没有死这一切会怎样，他们将会一起度过这个学年的最后几天，金妮的考试结束了，作
业的压力没有了……他一个小时一个小时地往后拖延，不去说那些他知道自己必须要说的事，不去做那些他知道是正确的事，因为要放弃自己最好的安慰源实在是太难了。
他们每天去两次校医院：纳威已经出院了，但是比尔仍然需要庞弗雷夫人的照料。他的伤疤还和以前一样糟糕；虽然他应该感激自己保住了眼睛和双腿，可实际上，他已经与疯眼汉穆迪很
相像了，但他的个性似乎和从前一样。唯一不同的是他似乎喜欢上了做得非常鲜嫩的牛排。
“……所以他娶我是很幸运的，”芙蓉一边鼓起比尔的枕头一边开心地说，“因为英国人总是把他们的肉弄得很老，我一直都这么说。”
“我想我只好接受他真的要和芙蓉结婚了，”那一天晚些时候金妮叹息道，她正与哈利、罗恩和赫敏坐在格兰芬多公共休息室打开的窗边，望着外面黄昏的操场。
“她也不那么糟，”哈利说。“虽然很丑，”见金妮扬起了眉毛，他赶紧加上了一句，金妮勉强地笑了笑。
“唉，我想如果妈妈能忍受，我就能。”
“还有我们知道的人死了吗？”罗恩问赫敏，后者正在认真地看《预言家日报》。
赫敏听出了他声音里不自然的坚强，不禁皱了皱眉。
“没有，”她责备地说，把报纸折了起来。“他们还在找斯内普，但是没有任何线索……”
“当然没有，”哈利每次谈及这个话题时都会变得很生气。“找到伏地魔才会找到斯内普，而这次他们似乎完全没有设法做这件事……”
“我要去睡觉了，”金妮打着呵欠说。“自从……嗯……那个之后我就一直没好好睡觉，我需要一点睡眠。”
她吻了一下哈利（罗恩有意识地把脸转了过去），向另外两个人挥了挥手，起身走向了女生宿舍。门在她身后刚刚关上，赫敏就向哈利凑过去，脸上露出了最赫敏式的表情。
“哈利，我今天早上在图书馆查到了一些东西……”
“R.A.B.？”哈利坐直了。
他没有感觉到以前常有的那种兴奋、好奇和探知谜底的渴望；他只是明白自己必须去完成这个任务，也就是找到那个真正的灵魂碎片的下落，然后才能在他面前这条黑暗和崎岖的道路上走
远一点，他当初是和邓布利多一起踏上的这条路，而他知道现在只能孤身前行了。现在可能还有四个灵魂碎片流落在外，他需要把每一个都找到并毁灭掉，然后伏地魔甚至才有被杀掉的可能。
他不断地背诵着它们的名字，仿佛这样做可以把它们带到自己的身边：“盒式坠子……杯子……蛇……格兰芬多或者拉文克劳的东西……盒式坠子……杯子……蛇……格兰芬多或者拉文克劳的
东西……”
这些颂词似乎在他睡觉时也在脑中跳动，他的梦里充满了杯子、盒式坠子和他无法拿到的神秘物品，尽管邓布利多帮忙提供给了哈利一条绳梯，可当他开始爬的时候绳梯却变成了蛇……
邓布利多死后的第二天早上，他给赫敏看了盒式坠子里的那张字条，虽然她并没有立即认出这几个首字母缩写属于她过去读到过的某个不著名的巫师，但是自从那以后她就常去图书馆，对
于一个没有家庭作业需要做的人来说，确实要更频繁一点。
“不是，”她悲哀地说，“我一直都在试，哈利，但是我什么都没有发现……有几个相当著名的巫师符合那个首字母缩写——罗萨林·安提贡·邦斯……鲁伯特·‘阿克邦戈’·布鲁斯坦
顿……但看上去他们都根本对不上号。根据字条判断，那个偷了灵魂碎片的人认识伏地魔，可我找不出一丁点证据表明邦斯和阿克邦戈与伏地魔有关……我说的不是这个，实际上，是关于……
嗯，斯内普的。”
她紧张地看着哈利，又提到这个名字了。
“他怎么了？”哈利沉闷地问，又瘫坐回椅子上。
“嗯，只是我觉得混血王子的事我有几分是对的……”她试探性地说。
“你非得要反复讲吗，赫敏？你认为我现在会怎么看待它？”
“不——不——哈利，我不是那个意思！”她赶紧说，环顾着四周以确定他们没有被人偷听，“我只是说，艾琳确实曾经拥有过这本书，在这一点上我是对的……她是斯内普的母亲！”
“我觉得她不是什么美人儿，”罗恩说。赫敏没有理他。
“我查过了余下的旧《预言家日报》，找到了一个小告示，上面说艾琳·普林斯嫁给了一个叫托比亚斯·斯内普的男人，后来又有一个告示说她生了一个——
“——杀人犯，”哈利恶狠狠地说。
“好吧……是的，”赫敏说。“所以……我有几分正确。斯内普一定骄傲于做‘半个王子’，是吧？《预言家日报》上说托比亚斯·斯内普是个麻瓜。
“很好，那就说得通了。”哈利说。“他大肆强调自己纯血统的一边，以便与卢修斯·马尔福和其余几个他们的人交往……他就像伏地魔那样。纯血统的母亲和麻瓜父亲……对他的出身感
到羞耻，试图用黑魔法使自己让人害怕，给自己起一个令人印象深刻的新名字——伏地魔——混血王子——邓布利多怎么会没有察觉到——？”
他顿住了，望着窗外，情不自禁地仔细思索邓布利多对斯内普那不可原谅的信任……但正如赫敏刚才不经意提醒他的那样，他，哈利，也一样被欺骗了……尽管当时那些潦草的咒语越来越
卑劣，他却还是不肯相信那个如此聪明的男孩是怀有恶意的，那个男孩帮助了他那么多……
帮助了他……这个想法现在几乎让他无法忍受……
“我还是不明白他为什么没有告发你使用那本书，”罗恩说。“他肯定早就知道了你是从哪里得到这一切的。”
“他知道，”哈利苦涩地说。“我使用刀光剑影咒时他就知道了。他并不真正需要通过摄神取念，也许在那之前他就知道了，斯拉霍恩和他谈论过我在魔药课上有多优秀……他不该把他那
本旧书放在橱柜底下的，是不是？”
“他为什么不告发你呢？”
“我想他不愿意让自己和那本书产生联系，”赫敏说。“我觉得如果邓布利多知道了的话，不会太高兴的。即使斯内普否认那本书是他的，斯拉霍恩也会马上从书里认出他的字迹。不管怎
么说，那本书在斯内普的旧教室里，而且我敢打赌邓布利多一定知道斯内普的母亲姓‘普林斯’。”
“我本该把那本书拿给邓布利多看的，”哈利说。“他一直在向我展示伏地魔从打上学起就有多么邪恶，我本可以向他证明斯内普也是这样的……”
“‘邪恶’是一个极端的词，”赫敏轻声说。
“是你一直在告诉我这本书很危险啊！”
“我想说的是，哈利，你太过于自责了。我一直以为混血王子的幽默感似乎很让人讨厌，但我绝没有猜到过他是一个潜在的杀手……”
“我们大家都没有猜到斯内普是这样……你知道的，”罗恩说。
沉默降临在他们中间，每个人都陷入了沉思，但是哈利可以肯定他们正像他自己一样想着明天早上，那个安葬邓布利多遗体的时刻。哈利以前从来没有参加过葬礼；小天狼星死的时候没有
遗体可埋葬。他不知道会发生什么事，而且对自己将要看到的和感觉到的事有一丝担忧。哈利不知道，在邓布利多的葬礼结束之后，邓布利多的死对他来说是不是会更加真实。虽然有时候他觉
得这个恐怖的事实有征服他的危险，但他仍然有大段大段空白的麻木，在这些麻木之中他发现自己很难相信邓布利多已经真的离去了，尽管整个城堡里没有人在讨论其他的事情。诚然，他没有
像当年对小天狼星那样，拼命地寻找某种漏洞，某种邓布利多能够回来的途径……他在口袋里摸索那个假灵魂碎片冰冷的链子，现在他在任何地方都把它带在身上，不是当作护身符，而是作为
一个提醒，提醒他为了这个东西他们付出了什么代价，还有什么需要去做。
哈利第二天很早就起来收拾行李；霍格沃茨特快列车将要在葬礼之后的一小时启程。下楼之后他发现礼堂里的情绪很压抑。每个人都穿着正装长袍，没有人看上去很饿。麦格教授把教工餐
桌中间的那张宝座一样的椅子空了出来。海格的椅子也空着：哈利觉得他也许无法面对早餐；但是斯内普的座位被鲁弗斯·斯克林杰随便地占据了。当他黄色的眼睛扫视礼堂的时候哈利避开了
它；哈利有一种不舒服的感觉，他觉得斯克林杰在寻找他。哈利在斯克林杰的随行人员里认出了红头发、戴着角质架眼镜的珀西·韦斯莱。罗恩没有表现出看到了珀西，只是带着罕见的怨恨戳
了戳熏鱼块。
斯莱特林的餐桌那边，克拉布和高尔在一起嘀咕着什么。虽然他们都是大块头的男孩，但没了那个脸色苍白、身材瘦高的马尔福夹在他们中间发号施令，他们看上去竟有些古怪地孤独了。
哈利腾出多少时间来想马尔福。他所有的仇恨都是冲着斯内普去的，但是他没有忘记在塔顶上时马尔福声音里的害怕，也没有忘记他在其余的食死徒赶来之前曾放下魔杖的事实。哈利不相信马
尔福会杀了邓布利多。他仍旧因为马尔福痴迷黑魔法而鄙视他，但是现在厌恶之中却混入了一丁点怜悯。哈利想，马尔福现在在哪儿呢，伏地魔已经威胁过要杀死他和他的父母了，他会怎么处
置马尔福呢？
金妮用肘轻轻地推了一下哈利的肋部，他的思维被打断了。麦格教授已经站了起来，礼堂里悲伤的嗡嗡声立即消失了。
“快到时候了，”她说。“请跟着你们的院长到操场上去。格兰芬多的学生，跟着我。”
他们近乎无声地从长凳上站起来，排着队走了出去，哈利瞥见斯拉霍恩在斯莱特林队伍的最前面，他穿了一件华丽的银色镶边翠绿色长袍。他来从没见过赫奇帕奇的院长斯普劳特教授穿得
这样整洁；她的帽子上一个补丁都没有，他们到达门厅之后，发现平斯夫人和费尔奇站在一块儿，她戴着一条厚厚的黑面纱，一直垂到膝盖，费尔奇则穿着一件老式黑色套装，领带散发着樟脑
球的气味。
哈利走出前门，踏上了石阶，发现他们在往湖那边前进。太阳的温暖正摩挲着他的脸，他们默默地跟着麦格教授走到一个整齐地摆满了上百把椅子的地方。椅子的中间有一条过道：过道的
正前方是一张大理石桌子，所有的椅子面冲着它。这是一个极为美丽的夏日。
一群看上去互相之间非常不同的人已经占据了一半的椅子：衣衫褴褛的和衣冠楚楚的，年老的和年轻的。大多数人哈利都不认识，不过他还是认识其中的几个，包括几个凤凰社的成员：金
斯莱·沙克尔、疯眼汉穆迪、唐克斯（她的头发奇迹般地恢复到了最鲜艳的粉红色）、莱姆斯·卢平（她似乎握着他的手）、韦斯莱夫妇、比尔和搀着他的芙蓉，后面跟着弗雷德和乔治，他们
来穿着黑色的龙皮夹克。然后是马克西姆夫人（她一个人就占据了两个半椅子）、破釜酒吧的老板汤姆、哈利的哑炮邻居阿拉贝拉·费格、古怪姐妹组合里的那个多毛的贝斯手、骑士公共汽车
的司机厄恩·普兰、对角巷的长袍店老板娘摩金夫人，还有一些和哈利仅仅见过面的人，比如猪头酒吧的男招待和在霍格沃茨特快列车上推小货车的女巫。城堡里的鬼魂也在那儿，在明媚的阳
光下几乎看不见，只有移动的时候才依稀可辨，他们在光明的空气里虚无飘渺地闪烁着。
哈利、罗恩、赫敏和金妮逐一走进了湖边的一排椅子，坐到了靠边的座位上。人们在窃窃私语；听起来就像草地上的一阵微风，但是鸟鸣声要响亮得多。人群在继续膨胀；哈利看到纳威在
卢娜的帮助下坐了下来，哈利突然对他们俩产生了一股强烈的感情。邓布利多死的那天晚上，他们俩是仅有的两个响应赫敏召唤的D.A.成员，哈利知道为什么：他们是最想念D.A.的两个人……
他们很可能一直在定期地把硬币拿出来查看，以期待有新的聚会……
康奈利·福吉经过他们走到了前排，他的表情很痛苦，像往常一样转着他的绿色圆顶礼帽；哈利然后认出了丽塔·斯基特，他愤怒地看到，她正用红爪子一样的手抓着一个笔记本；然后，
他看到了多洛雷斯·乌姆里奇，于是更强烈地抽动了一下，她癞蛤蟆般的脸上带着一种让人难以信服的悲痛表情，灰褐色的卷发上打着一个黑色天鹅绒蝴蝶结。她一看见像哨兵一样站在湖边的
马人费伦泽，愣了一下，就赶紧跑去坐到了离这儿很远的一个座位上。
教员们是最后就座的，哈利看见前排上坐在麦格教授旁边的斯克林杰表情既庄严又尊贵。哈利猜测着斯克林杰和这里的任何一个要员是不是真的在为邓布利多的死感到难过，可就在这时，
他听到了一曲奇怪的音乐，仿佛是来自另一个世界，以至于他忘记了对魔法部的厌恶转而去四处寻找它的源头。他不是唯一的一个：许多脑袋都在转动，搜寻，还有一点惊慌。
“在那儿，”金妮对哈利耳语道。
然后他看见了它们，在阳光照耀下的清澈的绿色湖水里，水面下几英寸的地方，这让他恐惧地想起了阴飞力；一个人鱼合唱团正用一种他听不懂的陌生语言唱着歌，它们苍白的脸上泛起阵
阵波纹，紫色的头发在周围飘荡。这音乐让哈利脖子上的毛都竖了起来，听上去不那么让人感到愉快。它如泣如诉地表达着失落和绝望。他俯视着歌手们原始的脸，有一种感觉，至少，他们在
为邓布利多的过世而感到难过。这时金妮又轻轻推了他一下，他向四周望去。
海格正在椅子之间的过道上缓缓而行。他无声地哭泣着，脸上泪光闪闪，哈利知道他的手里托着的是邓布利多的遗体，邓布利多穿着那件点缀着金色星星的紫色天鹅绒长袍。这一幕让哈利
的喉头产生了一阵剧痛：：一瞬间，那古怪的音乐和邓布利多的身体如此接近他的想法似乎带走了那一天所有的温暖。罗恩苍白的脸上全是震惊的表情。赫敏和金妮的双膝上迅速滴上了大颗的
泪珠。
他们看不清楚前面在干什么。海格似乎小心地把遗体放在了桌子上。现在他退回到通道里，像吹号一样擤着鼻子，一些人脸上露出了反感的表情，哈利看见其中包括多洛雷斯·乌姆里奇…
…但是哈利知道邓布利多并不会在意。海格经过他们的时候，哈利试图对他做一个友善的手势，但海格的眼睛肿得那么厉害，简直都可能看不到路了。哈利撇了一眼最后一排，海格正往那儿走
去，哈利意识到是谁在那儿等候，那人穿着一件夹克和一条裤子，每一个都有小号的帐篷那么大，那是巨人格洛普，他那长得像岩石一样丑陋的大脑袋向下垂着，温顺得就像个人类。海格坐到
了他同母异父的弟弟旁边，格洛普重重地拍了拍海格的脑袋，以至于他椅子的腿都陷进了地里。哈利一瞬间产生了一种想笑的惊人冲动。但是紧接着音乐停止了，他转过头又一次看着前面。
一个穿着朴素的黑色长袍、头发浓密的矮个男子站了起来，现在站到了邓布利多的遗体前。哈利听不到他在说什么。只有零星的几个词能越过数百颗脑袋飘到他们这儿。“灵魂的高贵”…
…“知识上的贡献”……“心灵的伟大”……这都不那么有意义。它与哈利所认识的那个邓布利多没什么关系。他突然想起了邓布利多对一些词的看法：“笨蛋”、“残渣”、“哭鼻子”、“
拧”，于是他再次忍住了想笑的冲动……他这是怎么了？
他的左边响起了一阵水花的声音，他看到人鱼也钻到了水面上来听。他想起邓布利多两年前蹲在水边——离哈利现在所坐的地方非常近——用人鱼话和人鱼首领交谈。哈利奇怪邓布利多是
从哪里学的人鱼话。他还有那么多的事情没有问过他，那么多他本应该说的话……
然后没有任何预兆，那可怕的事实就这么袭击了他，到今天它已经变得更加彻底，更加不可否认了。邓布利多死了，走了……他把冰冷的盒式坠子那么紧地握在手里，甚至都受伤了，但他
仍旧阻止不了热泪夺眶而出：他转过脸背对着金妮和其他人，越过湖面向禁林望去，同时那个一袭黑衣的矮个子男人还在嗡嗡地说个不停……树林里有什么东西在活动。马人们也来表达敬意了
。他们没有走到外面，可是哈利看到他们一动不动地站在那儿看着这边的巫师们，他们一半藏在阴影之中，在自己的那边鞠着躬。哈利想起了他在禁林里度过的第一个噩梦般的夜晚，他第一次
遭遇了后来得知是伏地魔的东西，想起了自己是如何面对他的，想起了不久之后自己和邓布利多讨论过打一场失败的战争。邓布利多说，战斗，再战斗，不停地战斗，这很重要，因为只有这样
邪恶才能被拒之门外，即使无法完全地根除掉……
哈利坐在火热的太阳下，眼前一个接一个清楚地浮现出了那些关心他的人，他的妈妈，他的爸爸，他的教父，最后是邓布利多，他们都下定决心要保护他；但现在那些已经结束了。他不能
再让任何人站到他和伏地魔中间；他必须永远地摈弃那个应该是从一岁时就离他而去的幻想：父母臂膀的庇护意味着没有任何东西可以伤害到他。他的噩梦从没有醒来，黑夜中从来没有安慰的
耳语告诉他其实真的很安全，它们都只存在于哈利的想象里；他最后的也是最伟大的保护者已经死了，他比从前任何时候都要孤单。
那个穿着黑袍的矮个子男人终于说完了，重新回到了他的座位上。哈利等着别的什么人站起来；他估计会有人演讲，很可能是部长，但是没有人动。
然后几个人尖叫了起来。明亮的白色火焰在邓布利多的遗体和他所躺的桌子周围爆发出来：它们越升越高，遮住了遗体。白烟旋转着升到空中，形成了奇怪的形状：哈利一瞬间心跳似乎停
止了，他觉得自己看见了一只凤凰喜悦地飞进了那团蓝色之中，但下一秒火焰就消失了。那儿成了一座白色的大理石坟墓，里面封存着邓布利多的遗体和他休息的桌子。
忽然一阵箭雨从空中呼啸而过，引起更多的叫声，可是它们都远远地落在人群之外。哈利知道这是马人的祭品：他看见他们转身消失在了阴冷的树丛里。同时人鱼们也缓慢地沉入了绿色的
湖水中消失了。
哈利看着金妮、罗恩和赫敏：罗恩的脸绷得很紧，就好像是被阳光晒瞎了一样。赫敏的脸上闪着泪光，可是金妮却没有再哭了。她回应着哈利的凝视，目光坚定、炽热，就像在那场哈利缺
席的魁地奇比赛之后拥抱他时一样，他知道那一刻他们的心灵是相通的，当他告诉金妮自己要做的事之后，她一定会接受他的决定，而不会去说“小心”和“别去做”，因为她不会对他有任何
轻视。于是他拿定主意，准备告诉她那些在邓布利多死后他知道必须要说的话。
“金妮，听我说……”他非常平静地说，这时人们开始站起来，嗡嗡的谈话声也越来越大，“我不能再连累你了。我们得停止相互见面。我们不能在一起。”
她带着扭曲得很古怪的微笑说：“是为了某个愚蠢、高贵的理由，是吗？”
“和你在一起的最后几个星期里，就好像……好像生活在没有别人的世界里一样，”哈利说。“但是我不能……我们不能……我现在有需要单独去做的事。”
她没有哭，只是看着他。
“伏地魔会利用和他的敌人亲近的人。他曾经把你用作诱饵，仅仅因为你是我最好的朋友的妹妹。想想看，如果我们继续下去，你会有多危险。他会知道的，他会发现的。他会试图通过你
找到我的。”
“如果我不在乎呢？”金妮激烈地说。
“我在乎，”哈利说。“如果今天参加的是你的葬礼，你想我会是什么感觉……那是我的错造成的……”
她转过脸，把目光移向了湖面。
“我从来没有真正放弃过你，”她说。“没有真正放弃。我总是希望……赫敏让我好好地生活，建议我去和别人约会，在你面前放松一点，因为以前你我共处一室的时候我都说不出话，记
得吗？她觉得如果我能表现出——多一点自我，也许你会对我多一点注意。”
“聪明的女孩，那个赫敏，”哈利挤出一丝笑容，“我只是希望当初能更早地向你表白。这样我们就可以有很长的时间了……几个月……也许几年……”
“可是你一直太忙于拯救巫师世界了，”金妮勉强地笑着。“嗯……我不能说我很惊讶。我知道结局会是这样。我知道你不会觉得幸福，除非去追杀伏地魔。也许那就是我如此喜欢你的原
因。”
哈利听不下去了，他觉得自己如果再坐在她身旁的话，决心就会动摇。他看见罗恩抱着伏在他肩头哭泣的赫敏，抚摸着她的头发，眼泪也在沿着他自己长长的鼻子滴落。哈利痛苦地站了起
来，背对着金妮，背对着邓布利多的坟墓，沿着湖边走去。走动要比坐着不动更容易忍受一些：就如同尽快地出发去找寻灵魂碎片，然后杀了伏地魔要比等待着去做这些事感觉更好……
“哈利！”
他转过身。鲁弗斯·斯克林杰拄着拐杖，跛着脚快步向哈利走来。
“我希望和你谈谈……你介意我跟你一起走走吗？”
“不介意。”哈利冷漠地说，继续向前走去。
“哈利，这是个可怕的悲剧，”斯克林杰平静地说，“我无法形容听说这件事以后自己有多么震惊。邓布利多是一个非常伟大的巫师。如你所知，我们有不同的意见，但是没有人比我更清
楚——”
“你想要什么？”哈利直截了当地问。
斯克林杰看上去有些恼怒，但是和从前一样，又赶紧把表情调整到了悲伤的谅解。
“当然，你的打击很大，”他说。“我知道你和邓布利多非常亲近。我想你也许是他最喜欢的学生。你们俩之间的联系——”
“你想要什么？”哈利停下了脚步，重复了一遍。
斯克林杰也停下了，他拄着拐杖盯着哈利，表情十分精明。
“听说他死的那天晚上和你一起离开了学校。”
“谁说的？”哈利说。
“邓布利多死后有人在塔楼上对一个食死徒施了昏迷咒。那儿还有两把飞天扫帚。魔法部会做加法，哈利。”
“听到这个我很高兴，”哈利说。“好吧，我和邓布利多去了哪儿，做了什么都是我自己的事。他不想让别人知道。”
“如此的忠诚当然令人钦佩，”斯克林杰似乎正在艰难地抑制自己的愤怒，“可是邓布利多已经不在了，哈利。他不在了。”
“只有到学校里不再有人忠于他时，他才会不在了，”哈利不由自主地微笑了起来。
“我亲爱的孩子……就连邓布利多也不可能从——”
“我不是说他能回来。你不会明白的。但是我对你无可奉告。”
斯克林杰犹豫了一下，然后用一种明显很圆滑的口吻说，“魔法部可以给你提供各种保护，哈利。我愿意安排一两个我的傲罗任你差遣——”
哈利大笑了起来。
“伏地魔想要亲自杀死我，傲罗们拦不住他。所以非常感谢这个帮助，但是我不要。”
“那么，”斯克林杰的声音变冷了，“圣诞节的时候我提出的那个请求——”
“什么请求？哦，对……就是要我告诉全世界你正在做一项多么伟大的工作，以换取——”
“——每个人士气的提升！”斯克林杰猛地打断他说。
哈利仔细地看了看他。
“释放斯坦·桑帕克了吗？”
斯克林杰的脸变成了一种难看的紫色，让他立刻联想到了弗农姨父。
“我明白了，你——”
“从头到脚都是邓布利多的人，”哈利说。“没错。”
斯克林杰瞪了他一会儿，然后没有再说一句话，转过身跛着脚走了。哈利看到珀西和部长的代表团里剩下的人都在等他，他们紧张地瞟着还在座位上抽泣的海格和格洛普。罗恩和赫敏急匆
匆地向哈利走来，途中经过了正在往反方向走的斯克林杰；哈利转过身，慢慢地接着走，等他们赶上来，最后他们坐到了一棵山毛榉的树荫下，他们曾在那棵树下度过了许多比现在更快乐的时
光。
“斯克林杰想要干什么？”赫敏小声说。
“跟他圣诞节时想要的东西一样，”哈利耸了耸肩。“想要我向他透露我和邓布利多之间的事，然后做魔法部新的形象代言人。”
罗恩似乎挣扎了一会儿，然后他大声对赫敏说，“听着，我要去揍珀西！”
“不行，”她抓住他的胳膊坚定地说。
“这样会让我感觉好一点！”
哈利笑了。连赫敏微微咧嘴笑了笑，可她抬头看城堡的时候笑容就褪去了。
“
收听单词发音 |
1
postponed
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| vt.& vi.延期，缓办，（使）延迟vt.把…放在次要地位；[语]把…放在后面（或句尾）vi.（疟疾等）延缓发作（或复发） | |
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harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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forgo
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| v.放弃，抛弃 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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10
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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12
perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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17
slumping
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的现在分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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numbness
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| n.无感觉，麻木，惊呆 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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talisman
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| n.避邪物，护身符 | |
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reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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26
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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28
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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29
venom
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| n.毒液，恶毒，痛恨 | |
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30
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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31
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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32
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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33
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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34
sprout
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| n.芽，萌芽；vt.使发芽，摘去芽；vi.长芽，抽条 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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37
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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38
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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39
aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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40
assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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41
phoenix
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| n.凤凰，长生(不死)鸟；引申为重生 | |
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42
miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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43
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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44
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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45
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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46
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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47
trolley
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| n.手推车，台车；无轨电车；有轨电车 | |
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48
shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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49
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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50
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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51
bowler
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| n.打保龄球的人，（板球的）投（球）手 | |
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52
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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53
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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54
centaur
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| n.人首马身的怪物 | |
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55
scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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57
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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58
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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59
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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60
trumpeting
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| 大声说出或宣告（trumpet的现在分词形式） | |
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61
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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62
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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63
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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64
beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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65
crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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66
conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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67
centaurs
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| n.（希腊神话中）半人半马怪物( centaur的名词复数 ) | |
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68
eradicated
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| 画着根的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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71
glazed
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| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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73
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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74
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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75
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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76
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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77
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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morale
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| n.道德准则，士气，斗志 | |
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79
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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80
beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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81
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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82
gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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83
dispersed
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| adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
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84
berth
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| n.卧铺，停泊地，锚位；v.使停泊 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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