FairyTales 版 (精华区)
发信人: julyrain (石头、剪子、布), 信区: FairyTales
标 题: CHAPTER FOURTEEN
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (Sun Feb 22 11:17:02 2004), 站内信件
— CHAPTER FOURTEEN —
Percy and Padfoot
Harry was first to wake up in his dormitory next morning. He lay for a moment
watching dust swirl in the ray of sunlight coming through the gap in his four-
posters hangings, and savoured the thought that it was Saturday. The first wee
k of term seemed to have dragged on for ever, like one gigantic History of Mag
ic lesson.
Judging by the sleepy silence and the freshly minted look of that beam of sunl
ight, it was just after daybreak. He pulled open the curtains around his bed,
got up and started to dress. The only sound apart from the distant twittering
of birds was the slow, deep breathing of his fellow Gryffindors. He opened his
schoolbag carefully, pulled out parchment and quill and headed out of the dor
mitory for the common room.
Making straight for his favourite squashy old armchair beside the now extinct
fire, Harry settled himself down comfortably and unrolled his parchment while
looking around the room. The detritus of crumpled-up bits of parchment, old Go
bstones, empty ingredient jars and sweet wrappers that usually covered the com
mon room at the end of each day was gone, as were all Hermione's elf hats. Won
dering vaguely how many elves had now been set free whether they wanted to be
or not, Harry uncorked his ink bottle, dipped his quill into it, then held it
suspended an inch above the smooth yellowish surface of his parchment, thinkin
g hard… but after a minute or so he found himself staring into the empty grat
e, at a complete loss for what to say.
He could now appreciate how hard it had been for Ron and Hermione to write him
letters over the summer. How was he supposed to tell Sirius everything that h
ad happened over the past week and pose all the questions he was burning to as
k without giving potential letter-thieves a lot of information he did not want
them to have?
He sat quite motionless for a while, gazing into the fireplace,: then, finally
coming to a decision, he dipped his quill into the ink bottle once more and s
et it resolutely on the parchment.
Dear Snuffles,
Hope you're OK, the first week back here's been terrible, I'm really
glad it's the weekend.
We've got a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She
's nearly as nice as your mum. I'm writing because that thing I wrote to you a
bout last summer happened again last night when I was doing a detention with U
mbridge.
We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon.
Please write back quickly.
Best,
Harry
Harry reread the letter several times, trying to see it from the point of view
of an outsider. He could not see how they would know what he was talking abou
t - or who he was talking to - just from reading this letter. He did hope Siri
us would pick up the hint about Hagrid and tell them when he might be back. Ha
rry did not want to ask directly in case it drew too much attention to what Ha
grid might be up to while he was not at Hogwarts.
Considering it was a very short letter, it had taken a long time to write; sun
light had crept halfway across the room while he had been working on it and he
could now hear distant sounds of movement from the dormitories above. Sealing
the parchment carefully, he climbed through the portrait hole and headed off
for the Owlery.
'I would not go that way if I were you,' said Nearly Headless Nick, drifting d
isconcertingly through a wall just ahead of Harry as he walked down the passag
e. 'Peeves is planning an amusing joke on the next person to pass the bust of
Paracelsus halfway down the corridor.'
'Does it involve Paracelsus falling on top of the persons head?' asked Harry.
'Funnily enough, it does,' said Nearly Headless Nick in a bored voice. 'Subtle
ty has never been Peeves's strong point. I'm off to try and find the Bloody Ba
ron… he might be able to put a stop to it… see you, Harry
'Yeah, bye,' said Harry and instead of turning right, he turned left, taking a
longer but safer route up to the Owlery. His spirits rose as he walked past w
indow after window showing brilliantly blue sky; he had training later, he wou
ld be back on the Quidditch pitch at last.
Something brushed his ankles. He looked down and saw the caretaker's skeletal
grey cat, Mrs Norns, slinking past him. She turned lamplike yellow eyes on him
for a moment before disappearing behind a statue of Wilfred the Wistful.
'I'm not doing anything wrong,' Harry called after her. She had the unmistakea
ble air of a cat that was ofi to report to her boss, yet Harry could not see w
hy; he was perfectly entitled to walk up to the Owlery on a Saturday morning.
The sun was high in the sky now and when Harry entered the Owlery the glassles
s windows dazzled his eyes; thick silvery beams of sunlight crisscrossed the c
ircular room in which hundreds of owls nestled on rafters, a little restless i
n the early-morning light, some clearly just returned from hunting. The straw-
covered floor crunched a little as he stepped across tiny animal bones, cranin
g his neck for a sight of Hedwig.
There you are,' he said, spotting her somewhere near the very top of the vault
ed ceiling. 'Get down here, I've got a letter for you."
With a low hoot she stretched her great white wings and soared down on to his
shoulder.
'Right, I know this says Snuffles on the outside,' he told her, giving her the
letter to clasp in her beak and, without knowing exactly why, whispering, 'bu
t it's for Sirius, OK?'
She blinked her amber eyes once and he took that to mean that she understood.
'Safe flight, then,' said Harry and he carried her to one of the windows; with
a moment's pressure on his arm, Hedwig took off into the blindingly bright sk
y. He watched her until she became a tiny black speck and vanished, then switc
hed his gaze to Hagrid's hut, clearly visible from this window, and just as cl
early uninhabited, the chimney smokeless, the curtains drawn.
The treetops of the Forbidden Forest swayed in a light breeze. Harry watched t
hem, savouring the fresh air on his face, thinking about Quidditch later… the
n he saw it. A great, reptilian winged horse, just like the ones pulling the H
ogwarts carriages, with leathery black wings spread wide like a pterodactyl's,
rose up out of the trees like a grotesque, giant bird. It soared in a great c
ircle, then plunged back into the trees. The whole thing had happened so quick
ly, Harry could hardly believe what he had seen, except that his heart was ham
mering madly.
The Owlery door opened behind him. He leapt in shock and, turning quickly, saw
Cho Chang holding a letter and a parcel in her hands.
'Hi,' said Harry automatically.
'Oh… hi,' she said breathlessly. 'I didn't think anyone would be up here this
early… I only remembered five minutes ago, it's my mum's birthday.'
She held up the parcel.
'Right,' said Harry. His brain seemed to have jammed. He wanted to say somethi
ng funny and interesting, but the memory of that terrible winged horse was fre
sh in his mind.
'Nice day,' he said, gesturing to the windows. His insides seemed to shrivel w
ith embarrassment. The weather. He was talking about the weather…
'Yeah,' said Cho, looking around for a suitable owl. 'Good Quidditch condition
s. 1 haven't been out all week, have you?'
'No,' said Harry.
Cho had selected one of the school barn owls. She coaxed it down on to her arm
where it held out an obliging leg so that she could attach the parcel.
'Hey, has Gryffindor got a new Keeper yet?' she asked.
'Yeah,' said Harry. 'It's my friend Ron Weasley, d'you know him?'
The Tornados-hater?' said Cho rather coolly. 'Is he any good?'
'Yeah,' said Harry, 'I think so. I didn't see his tryout, though, I was in det
ention.'
Cho looked up, the parcel only half-attached to the owl's legs.
That Umbridge woman's foul,' she said in a low voice. 'Putting you in detentio
n just because you told the truth about how - how - how he died. Everyone hear
d about it, it was all over the school. You were really brave standing up to h
er like that.'
Harry's insides re-inflated so rapidly he felt as though he might actually flo
at a few inches off the dropping-strewn floor. Who cared about a stupid flying
horse; Cho thought he had been really brave. For a moment, he considered acci
dentally-on-purpose showing her his cut hand as he helped her tie her parcel o
n to her owl… but the very instant this thrilling thought occurred, the Owler
y door opened again.
Filch the caretaker came wheezing into the room. There were purple patches on
his sunken, veined cheeks, his jowls were aquiver and his thin grey hair dishe
velled; he had obviously run here. Mrs Norris came trotting at his heels, gazi
ng up at the owls overhead and mewing hungrily. There was a restless shifting
of wings from above and a large brown owl snapped his beak in a menacing fashi
on.
'Aha!' said Filch, taking a flat-footed step towards Harry, his pouchy cheeks
trembling with anger. 'I've had a tip-off that you are intending to place a ma
ssive order for DungbombsP
Harry folded his arms and stared at the caretaker.
'Who told you 1 was ordering Dungbombs?'
Cho was looking from Harry to Filch, also frowning; the barn owl on her arm, t
ired of standing on one leg, gave an admonitory hoot but she ignored it.
'I have my sources,' said Filch in a self-satisfied hiss. 'Now hand over whate
ver it is you're sending.'
Feeling immensely thankful that he had not dawdled in posting off the letter,
Harry said, 'I can't, it's gone.'
'Gone?' said Filch, his face contorting with rage.
'Gone,' said Harry calmly.
Filch opened his mouth furiously, mouthed for a few seconds, then raked Harrys
robes with his eyes.
'How do I know you haven't got it in your pocket?'
'Because -'
'I saw him send it,' said Cho angrily.
Filch rounded on her.
'You saw him -?'
That's right, I saw him,' she said fiercely.
There was a moments pause in which Filch glared at Cho and Cho glared right ba
ck, then the caretaker turned on his heel and shuffled back towards the door.
He stopped with his hand on the handle and looked back at Harry.
'If I get so much as a whiff of a Dungbomb
He stumped off down the stairs. Mrs Norris cast a last longing look at the owl
s and followed him.
Harry and Cho looked at each other.
Thanks,' Harry said.
'No problem,' said Cho, finally fixing the parcel to the barn owl's other leg,
her face slightly pink. 'You weren't ordering Dungbombs, were you?'
'No,' said Harry.
'I wonder why he thought you were, then?' she said as she carried the owl to t
he window.
Harry shrugged. He was quite as mystified by that as she was, though oddly it
was not bothering him very much at the moment.
They left the Owlery together. At the entrance of a corridor that led towards
the west wing of the castle, Cho said, 'I'm going this way. Well, I'll… I'll
see you around, Harry.'
'Yeah… see you.'
She smiled at him and departed. Harry walked on, feeling quietly elated. He ha
d managed to have an entire conversation with her and not embarrassed himself
once… you were really brave standing up to her like that… Cho had called him
brave… she did not hate him for being alive…
Ol course, she had preferred Cedric, he knew that… though if he'd only asked
her to the Ball before Cedric had, things might have turned out differently…
she had seemed sincerely sorry that she'd had to refuse when Harry asked her…
'Morning,' Harry said brightly to Ron and Hermione as he joined them at the Gr
yffindor table in the Great Hall.
'What are you looking so pleased about?' said Ron, eyeing Harry in surprise.
'Erm… Quidditch later,' said Harry happily, pulling a large platter of bacon
and eggs towards him.
'Oh… yeah…' said Ron. He put down the piece of toast he was eating and took
a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then he said, 'Listen… you don't fancy going o
ut a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to - er - give me some practice before
training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit.'
'Yeah, OK,' said Harry.
'Look, 1 don't think you should,' said Hermione seriously. 'You're both really
behind on homework as it -'
But she broke off; the morning post was arriving and, as usual, the Daily Prop
het was soaring towards her in the beak of a screech owl, which landed perilou
sly close to the sugar bowl and held out a leg. Hermione pushed a Knut into it
s leather pouch, took the newspaper, and scanned the front page critically as
the owl took off.
'Anything interesting?' said Ron. Harry grinned, knowing Ron was keen to keep
her off the subject of homework.
'No,' she sighed, 'just some guff about the bass player in the Weird Sisters g
etting married.'
Hermione opened the paper and disappeared behind it. Harry devoted himself to
another helping of eggs and bacon. Ron was staring up at the high windows, loo
king slightly preoccupied.
'Wait a moment,' said Hermione suddenly. 'Oh no… Sirius!'
'What's happened?' said Harry, snatching at the paper so violently it ripped d
own the middle, with him and Hermione each holding one half.
'"The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sir
ius Black, notorious mass murderer… blah blah blah… is currently hiding in L
ondon!"' Hermione read from her half in an anguished whisper.
'Lucius Malfoy I'll bet anything,' said Harry in a low, furious voice. 'He did
recognise Sirius on the platform…'
'What?' said Ron, looking alarmed. 'You didn't say -'
'Shh!' said the other two.
… "Ministry warns wizarding community that Black is very dangerous… killed t
hirteen people… broke out of Azkaban …" the usual rubbish,' Hermione conclud
ed, laying down her half of the paper and looking fearfully at Harry and Ron.
'Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all,' she whispe
red. 'Dumbledore did warn him not to.'
Harry looked down glumly at the bit ol the Prophet he had torn off. Most of th
e page was devoted to an advertisement for Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasio
ns, which was apparently having a sale.
'Hey!' he said, flattening it down so Hermione and Ron could see it. 'Look at
this!'
'I've got all the robes I want,' said Ron.
'No,' said Harry. 'Look… this little piece here…'
Ron and Hermione bent closer to read it; the item was barely an inch long and
placed right at the bottom of a column. It was headlined:
TRESPASS AT MINISTRY
Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in
front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Mi
nistry of Magic on 3ISI August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watc
hwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-se
curity door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak in hi
s own defence, was convicted on both charges and sentenced to six months in Az
kaban.
'Sturgis Podmore?' said Ron slowly. 'He's that bloke who looks like his head's
been thatched, isn't he? He's one of the Ord—'
'Ron, shh!' said Hermione, casting a terrified look around them.
'Six months in Azkaban!' whispered Harry, shocked. 'Just for trying to get thr
ough a door!'
'Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through a door. What on eart
h was he doing at the Ministry of Magic at one o'clock in the morning?' breath
ed Hermione.
'D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?' Ron muttered.
'Wait a moment…' said Harry slowly. 'Sturgis was supposed to come and see us
off, remember?'
The other two looked at him.
'Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard going to King's Cross, remember
? And Moody was all annoyed because he didn't turn up; so he couldn't have bee
n on a job for them, could he?'
'Well, maybe they didn't expect him to get caught,' said Hermione.
'It could be a frame-up!' Ron exclaimed excitedly. 'No - listen!' he went on,
dropping his voice dramatically at the threatening look on Hermione's face. Th
e Ministry suspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so - I dunno - they lured him
to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to get through a door at all! Maybe the
y've just made something up to get him!'
There was a pause while Harry and Hermione considered this. Harry thought it s
eemed far-fetched. Hermione, on the other hand, looked rather impressed.
'Do you know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true.'
She folded up her half of the newspaper thoughtfully. As Harry laid down his k
nife and fork, she seemed to come out of a reverie.
'Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on self-fertilisi
ng shrubs first and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanima
tus Conjurus Spell before lunch…'
Harry felt a small twinge of guilt at the thought of the pile of homework awai
ting him upstairs, but the sky was a clear, exhilarating blue, and he had not
been on his Firebolt for a week…
'I mean, we can do it tonight,' said Ron, as he and Harry walked down the slop
ing lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, their broomsticks over their shoulders,
and with Hermione's dire warnings that they would fail all their OWLs still r
inging in their ears. 'And we've got tomorrow. She gets too worked up about wo
rk, that's her trouble…' There was a pause and he added, in a slightly more a
nxious tone, 'D'you think she meant it when she said we weren't copying from h
er?'
'Yeah, I do,' said Harry. 'Still, this is important, too, we've got to practis
e if we want to stay on the Quidditch team…'
'Yeah, that's right,' said Ron, in a heartened tone. 'And we have got plenty o
f time to do it all…'
As they approached the Quidditch pitch, Harry glanced over to his right to whe
re the trees of the Forbidden Forest were swaying darkly. Nothing flew out of
them; the sky was empty but for a few distant owls fluttering around the Owler
y tower. He had enough to worry about; the flying horse wasn't doing him any h
arm; he pushed it out of his mind.
They collected balls from the cupboard in the changing room and set to work, R
on guarding the three tall goalposts, Harry playing Chaser and trying to get t
he Quaffle past Ron. Harry thought Ron was pretty good; he blocked three-quart
ers of the goals Harry attempted to put past him and played better the longer
they practised. After a couple of hours they returned to the castle for lunch
- during which Hermione made it quite clear she thought they were irresponsibl
e — then returned to the Quidditch pitch for the real training session. All t
heir teammates but Angelina were already in the changing room when they entere
d.
'All right, Ron?' said George, winking at him.
'Yeah,' said Ron, who had become quieter and quieter all the way down to the p
itch.
'Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?' said Fred, emerging tousle-haired fr
om the neck of his Quidditch robes, a slightly malicious grin on his face.
'Shut up,' said Ron, stony-faced, pulling on his own team robes for the first
time. They fitted him well considering they had been Oliver Wood's, who was ra
ther broader in the shoulder.
'OK, everyone,' said Angelina, entering from the Captain's office, already cha
nged. 'Let's get to it; Alicia and Fred, if you can just bring out the ball cr
ate for us. Oh, and there are a couple of people out there watching but I want
you to just ignore them, all right?'
Something in her would-be casual voice made Harry think he might know who the
uninvited spectators were, and sure enough, when they left the changing room f
or the bright sunlight of the pitch it was to a storm of catcalls and jeers fr
om the Slytherin Quidditch team and assorted hangers-on, who were grouped half
way up the empty stands and whose voices echoed loudly around the stadium.
'What's that Weasley's riding?' Malfoy called in his sneering drawl. 'Why woul
d anyone put a flying charm on a mouldy old log like that?'
Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson guffawed and shrieked with laughter. Ron mou
nted his broom and kicked off from the ground and Harry followed him, watching
his ears turn red from behind.
'Ignore them,' he said, accelerating to catch up with Ron, 'we'll see who's la
ughing after we play them…'
'Exactly the attitude I want, Harry,' said Angelina approvingly, soaring aroun
d them with the Quaffle under her arm and slowing to hover on the spot in fron
t of her airborne team. 'OK, everyone, we're going to start with some passes j
ust to warm up, the whole team please -'
'Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle, anyway?' shrieked Pansy Parkinson f
rom below. 'Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of
their head?'
Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face and continued calmly, 'Sp
read out, then, and let's see what we can do…'
Harry reversed away from the others to the far side of the pitch. Ron fell bac
k towards the opposite goal. Angelina raised the Quaffle with one hand and thr
ew it hard to Fred, who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed to R
on, who dropped it.
The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed with laughter. Ron, who had
pelted towards the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out o
f the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to
playing height, blushing. Harry saw Fred and George exchange looks, but uncha
racteristically neither of them said anything, for which he was grateful.
'Pass it on, Ron,' called Angelina, as though nothing had happened.
Ron threw the Quaffle to Alicia, who passed back to Harry, who passed to Georg
e…
'Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?' called Malfoy. 'Sure you don't need a
lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing,
that's a record for you, isn't it?'
George passed to Angelina; she reverse-passed to Harry, who had not been expec
ting it, but caught it in the very tips of his fingers and passed it quickly t
o Ron, who lunged for it and missed by inches.
'Come on now, Ron,' said Angelina crossly, as he dived for the ground again, c
hasing the Quaffle. 'Pay attention.'
It would have been hard to say whether Ron's face or the Quaffle was a deeper
scarlet when he again returned to playing height. Malfoy and the rest of the S
lytherin team were howling with laughter.
On his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle; perhaps out of relief he passed
it on so enthusiastically that it soared straight through Katie's outstretched
hands and hit her hard in the face.
'Sorry!' Ron groaned, zooming forwards to see whether he had done any damage.
'Get back in position, she's fine!' barked Angelina. 'But as you're passing to
a teammate, do try not to knock her off her broom, won't you? We've got Bludg
ers for that!'
Katie's nose was bleeding. Down below, the Slytherins were stamping their feet
and jeering. Fred and George converged on Katie.
'Here, take this,' Fred told her, handing her something small and purple from
out of his pocket, 'it'll clear it up in no time.'
'All right,' called Angelina, 'Fred, George, go and get your bats and a Bludge
r. Ron, get up to the goalposts. Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. We'r
e going to aim for Ron's goal, obviously.'
Harry zoomed off after the twins to fetch the Snitch.
'Ron's making a right pig's ear of things, isn't he?' muttered George, as the
three of them landed at the crate containing the balls and opened it to extrac
t one of the Bludgers and the Snitch.
'He's just nervous,' said Harry, 'he was fine when I was practising with him t
his morning.'
'Yeah, well, I hope he hasn't peaked too soon,' said Fred gloomily.
They returned to the air. When Angelina blew her whistle, Harry released the S
nitch and Fred and George let fly the Bludger. From that moment on, Harry was
barely aware of what the others were doing. It was his job to recapture the ti
ny fluttering golden ball that was worth a hundred and fifty points to the See
ker's team and doing so required enormous speed and skill. He accelerated, rol
ling and swerving in and out of the Chasers, the warm autumn air whipping his
face, and the distant yells of the Slytherins so much meaningless roaring in h
is ears… but too soon, the whistle brought him to a halt again.
'Stop - stop - STOP!' screamed Angelina. 'Ron - you're not covering your middl
e post!'
Harry looked round at Ron, who was hovering in front of the left-hand hoop, le
aving the other two completely unprotected.
'Oh… sorry…'
'You keep shifting around while you're watching the Chasers!' said Angelina. '
Either stay in centre position until you have to move to defend a hoop, or els
e circle the hoops, but don't drift vaguely off to one side, that's how you le
t in the last three goals!'
'Sorry…' Ron repeated, his red face shining like a beacon against the bright
blue sky.
'And Katie, can't you do something about that nosebleed?'
'It's just getting worse!' said Katie thickly, attempting to stem the flow wit
h her sleeve.
Harry glanced round at Fred, who was looking anxious and checking his pockets.
He saw Fred pull out something purple, examine it for a second and then look
round at Katie, evidently horror-struck.
'Well, let's try again,' said Angelina. She was ignoring the Slytherins, who h
ad now set up a chant of 'Gryffindor are losers, Gryffindor are losers,' but t
here was a certain rigidity about her seat on the broom nevertheless.
This time they had been flying for barely three minutes when Angelinas whistle
sounded. Harry, who had just sighted the Snitch circling the opposite goalpos
t, pulled up feeling distinctly aggrieved.
'What now?' he said impatiently to Alicia, who was nearest.
'Katie,' she said shortly.
Harry turned and saw Angelina, Fred and George all flying as fast as they coul
d towards Katie. Harry and Alicia sped towards her, too. It was plain that Ang
elina had stopped training just in time; Katie was now chalk white and covered
in blood.
'She needs the hospital wing,' said Angelina.
'We'll take her,' said Fred. 'She - er - might have swallowed a Blood Blisterp
od by mistake -'
'Well, there's no point continuing with no Beaters and a Chaser gone,' said An
gelina glumly as Fred and George zoomed off towards the castle supporting Kati
e between them. 'Come on, let's go and get changed.'
The Slytherins continued to chant as they trailed back into the changing rooms
.
'How was practice?' asked Hermione rather coolly half an hour later, as Harry
and Ron climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
'It was -' Harry began.
'Completely lousy,' said Ron in a hollow voice, sinking into a chair beside He
rmione. She looked up at Ron and her frostiness seemed to melt.
'Well, it was only your first one,' she said consolingly, 'it's bound to take
time to -'
'Who said it was me who made it lousy?' snapped Ron.
'No one,' said Hermione, looking taken aback, 'I thought -'
'You thought I was bound to be rubbish?'
'No, of course I didn't! Look, you said it was lousy so 1 just -'
'I'm going to get started on some homework,' said Ron angrily and stomped off
to the staircase to the boys' dormitories and vanished from sight. Hermione tu
rned to Harry.
'Was he lousy?'
'No,' said Harry loyally.
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
'Well, 1 suppose he could've played better,' Harry muttered, 'but it was only
the first training session, like you said…'
Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headway with their homework that nig
ht. Harry knew Ron was too preoccupied with how badly he had performed at Quid
ditch practice and he himself was having difficulty in getting the 'Gryffindor
are losers' chant out of his head.
They spent the whole of Sunday in the common room, buried in their books while
the room around them filled up, then emptied. It was another clear, fine day
and most of their fellow Gryffindors spent the day out in the grounds, enjoyin
g what might well be some of the last sunshine that year. By the evening, Harr
y felt as though somebody had been beating his brain against the inside of his
skull.
'You know, we probably should try and get more homework done during the week,'
Harry muttered to Ron, as they finally laid aside Professor McGonagall's long
essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell and turned miserably to Professor Sini
stra's equally long and difficult essay about Jupiter's many moons.
'Yeah,' said Ron, rubbing slightly bloodshot eyes and throwing his fifth spoil
ed bit of parchment into the fire beside them. 'Listen… shall we just ask Her
mione if we can have a look at what she's done?'
Harry glanced over at her; she was sitting with Crookshanks on her lap and cha
tting merrily to Ginny as a pair of knitting needles flashed in midair in fron
t of her, now knitting a pair of shapeless elf socks.
'No,' he said heavily, 'you know she won't let us.'
And so they worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker
. Slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again. At half past eleve
n, Hermione wandered over to them, yawning.
'Nearly done?'
'No,' said Ron shortly.
'Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto,' she said, pointing over Ro
n's shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, 'and it's lo that's got the vol
canoes.'
Thanks,' snarled Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.
'Sorry, I only -'
'Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticise -'
'Ron -'
'I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my n
eck in it here -'
'No - look!'
Hermione was pointing to the nearest window. Harry and Ron both looked over. A
handsome screech owl was standing on the windowsill, gazing into the room at
Ron.
'Isn't that Hermes?' said Hermione, sounding amazed.
'Blimey, it is!' said Ron quietly, throwing down his quill and getting to his
feet. 'What's Percy writing to me for?'
He crossed to the window and opened it; Hermes flew inside, landed on Ron's es
say and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. Ron took the letter off
it and the owl departed at once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing
of the moon lo.That's definitely Percy's handwriting,' said Ron, sinking back
into his chair and staring at the words on the outside of the scroll: Ronald
Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts. He looked up at the other two. 'What d'yo
u reckon?'
'Open it!' said Hermione eagerly, and Harry nodded.
Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. The further down the parchment his
eyes travelled, the more pronounced became his scowl. When he had finished rea
ding, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at Harry and Hermione, who lea
ned towards each other to read it together:
Dear Ron,
I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister for Magic hims
elf, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have becom
e a Hogwarts prefect.
was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my
congratulations. 1 must admit that I have always been afraid that you would t
ake what we might call the 'Fred and George' route, rather than following in m
y footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouti
ng authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.
But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some
advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morn
ing post. Hopefully, you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and a
void awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I
gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. 1 must tell you, Ron,
that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued
fraternisation with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this -
no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favourite — bu
t I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts mu
ch longer and the people who count have a very different - and probably more a
ccurate - view of Potter's behaviour. I shall say no more here, but if you loo
k at the Daily Prophet
tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing — and see if
you can spot yours truly!
Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it
could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about
life after school, too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted h
im to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the who
le Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a
mere technicality, if you ask me, and many of the people I've spoken to remain
convinced of his guilt.
It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter - / know that he can b
e unbalanced and, for all I know, violent - but if you have any worries about
this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behaviour that is troubling yo
u, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a truly delightful woman who I kno
w will be only too happy to advise you.
This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's
regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him,
but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that, so far, Prof
essor Umbridge is encountering very little co-operation from staff as she stri
ves to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so arden
tly desires (although she should find this easier from next week — again, see
the Daily Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this - a student who shows him
self willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well-placed for Head B
oyship in a couple of years!
I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me t
o criticise our parents, but I am afraid i can no longer live under their roof
while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore. (If yo
u are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgi
s Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Az
kabanfor trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the ki
nd of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders.) I count
myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people
- the Minister really could not be more gracious to me — and 1 do hope, Ron,
that you will
not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' bel
iefs and actions, either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realise ho
w mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology
when that day comes.
Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about
Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.
Your brother,
Percy
Harry looked up at Ron.
'Well,' he said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, 'i
f you want to - er - what is it?' - he checked Percy's letter - 'Oh yeah - "se
ver ties" with me, I swear 1 won't get violent.'
'Give it back,' said Ron, holding out his hand. 'He is -' Ron said jerkily, te
aring Percy's letter in half 'the world's -' he tore it into quarters 'biggest
-' he tore it into eighths 'git.' He threw the pieces into the fire.
'Come on, we've got to get this finished sometime before dawn,' he said briskl
y to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra's essay back towards him.
Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face.
'Oh, give them here,' she said abruptly.
'What?' said Ron.
'Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them,' she said.
'Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a life-saver,' said Ron, 'what can I -?
'
'What you can say is, "We promise we'll never leave our homework this late aga
in,"' she said, holding out both hands for their essays, but she looked slight
ly amused all the same.
Thanks a million, Hermione,' said Harry weakly, passing over his essay and sin
king back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.
It was now past midnight and the common room was deserted but for the three of
them and Crookshanks. The only sound was that of Hermione's quill scratching
out sentences here and there on their essays and the ruffle of pages as she ch
ecked various facts in the reference books strewn across the table. Harry was
exhausted. He also felt an odd, sick, empty feeling in his stomach that had no
thing to do with tiredness and everything to do with the letter now curling bl
ackly in the heart of the fire.
He knew that half the people inside Hogwarts thought him strange, even mad; he
knew that the Daily Prophet had been making snide allusions to him for months
, but there was something about seeing it written down like that in Percys wri
ting, about knowing that Percy was advising Ron to drop him and even to tell t
ales about him to Umbridge, that made his situation real to him as nothing els
e had. He had known Percy for four years, had stayed in his house during the s
ummer holidays, shared a tent with him during the Quidditch World Cup, had eve
n been awarded full marks by him in the second task of the Triwizard Tournamen
t last year, yet now, Percy thought him unbalanced and possibly violent.
And with a surge of sympathy for his godfather, Harry thought Sirius was proba
bly the only person he knew who could really understand how he felt at the mom
ent, because Sirius was in the same situation. Nearly everyone in the wizardin
g world thought Sirius a dangerous murderer and a great Voldemort supporter an
d he had had to live with that knowledge for fourteen years…
Harry blinked. He had just seen something in the fire that could not have been
there. It had flashed into sight and vanished immediately. No… it could not
have been… he had imagined it because he had been thinking about Sirius…
'OK, write that down,' Hermione said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet cov
ered in her own writing back to Ron, 'then add this conclusion I've written fo
r you.'
'Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met,' said Ron
weakly, 'and if I'm ever rude to you again -'
'- I'll know you're back to normal,' said Hermione. 'Harry, yours is OK except
for this bit at the end, I think you must have misheard Professor Sinistra, E
uropa's covered in ice, not mice -Harry?'
Harry had slid off his chair on to his knees and was now crouching on the sing
ed and threadbare hearthrug, gazing into the flames.
'Er - Harry?' said Ron uncertainly. 'Why are you down there?'
'Because I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire,' said Harry.
He spoke quite calmly; after all, he had seen Sirius's head in this very fire
the previous year and talked to it, too; nevertheless, he could not be sure th
at he had really seen it this time… it had vanished so quickly…
'Sirius's head?' Hermione repeated. 'You mean like when he wanted to talk to y
ou during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be t
oo - Sirius!'
She gasped, gazing at the fire; Ron dropped his quill. There in the middle of
the dancing flames sat Sirius's head, long dark hair falling around his grinni
ng face.
'1 was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared,
' he said. 'I've been checking every hour.'
'You've been popping into the fire every hour?' Harry said, half-laughing.
'Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear.'
'But what if you'd been seen?' said Hermione anxiously.
'Well, 1 think a girl - first-year, by the look of her - might've got a glimps
e of me earlier, but don't worry' Sirius said hastily, as Hermione clapped a h
and to her mouth, 'I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet sh
e just thought I was an oddly-shaped log or something.'
'But, Sirius, this is taking an awful risk -' Hermione began.
'You sound like Molly,' said Sirius. This was the only way I could come up wit
h of answering Harrys letter without resorting to a code - and codes are break
able.'
At the mention of Harry's letter, Hermione and Ron both turned to stare at him
.
'You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!' said Hermione accusingly.
'I forgot,' said Harry, which was perfectly true; his meeting with Cho in the
Owlery had driven everything before it out of his mind. 'Don't look at me like
that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out
of it, was there, Sirius?'
'No, it was very good,' said Sirius, smiling. 'Anyway, we'd better be quick, j
ust in case we're disturbed - your scar.'
'What about -?' Ron began, but Hermione interrupted him. . 'We'll tell you aft
erwards. Go on, Sirius.'
'Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything
to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?'
'Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerf
ul emotion,' said Harry, ignoring, as usual, Ron and Hermione's winces. 'So ma
ybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that deten
tion.'
'Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often,' said Sirius.
'So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was
in detention with her?' Harry asked.
'I doubt it,' said Sirius. 'I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Dea
th Eater -'
'She's foul enough to be one,' said Harry darkly, and Ron and Hermione nodded
vigorously in agreement.
'Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters,' said Siriu
s with a wry smile. 'I know she's a nasty piece of work, though — you should
hear Remus talk about her.'
'Does Lupin know her?' asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge's comments ab
out dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson.
'No,' said Sirius, 'but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two yea
rs ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.'
Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin looked these days and his dislike of
Umbridge deepened even further.
'What's she got against werewolves?" said Hermione angrily.
'Scared of them, I expect,' said Sirius, smiling at her indignation. 'Apparent
ly she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and ta
gged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeopl
e when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose.'
Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset.
'Sirius!' she said reproachfully. 'Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort wi
th Kreacher, I'm sure he'd respond. After all, you are the only member of his
family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said -'
'So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?' Sirius interrupted. 'Is she training y
ou all to kill half-breeds?'
'No,' said Harry, ignoring Hermione's affronted look at being cut off in her d
efence of Kreacher. 'She's not letting us use magic at all!'
'All we do is read the stupid textbook,' said Ron.
'Ah, well, that figures,' said Sirius. 'Our information Irom inside the Minist
ry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat.'
'Trained in combat!' repeated Harry incredulously. 'What does he think we're d
oing here, forming some sort of wizard army?'
That's exactly what he thinks you're doing,' said Sirius, 'or, rather, that's
exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing - forming his own private army, wi
th which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic.'
There was a pause at this, then Ron said, That's the most stupid thing I've ev
er heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with.'
'So we're being prevented from learning Defence Against the Dark Arts because
Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?' said Hermione, looking
furious.
'Yep,' said Sirius. 'Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize pow
er. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of t
ime before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge.'
This reminded Harry of Percy's letter.
'D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prop
het tomorrow? Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be -'
'I don't know,' said Sirius, 'I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend
, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here
There was a definite note of bitterness in Sirius's voice.
'So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?'
'Ah…' said Sirius, 'well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure wh
at's happened to him.' Then, seeing their stricken faces, he added quickly, 'B
ut Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm
sure Hagrid's fine.'
'But if he was supposed to be back by now…' said Hermione in a small, anxious
voice.
'Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they go
t separated on the journey home - but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or
- well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly OK.'
Unconvinced, Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged worried looks.
'Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid,' said Sirius hastily
, 'it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and I kn
ow Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be OK.' And when they d
id not appear cheered by this, Sirius added, 'When's your next Hogsmeade weeke
nd, anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station,
didn't we? I thought I could —'
'NO!' said Harry and Hermione together, very loudly.
'Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?' said Hermione anxiously.
'Oh, that,' said Sirius, grinning, 'they're always guessing where I am, they h
aven't really got a clue -'
'Yeah, but we think this time they have,' said Harry. 'Something Malfoy said o
n the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platfo
rm, Sirius - you know, Lucius Malfoy - so don't come up here, whatever you do.
If Malfoy recognises you again -'
'All right, all right, I've got the point,' said Sirius. He looked most disple
ased. 'Just an idea, thought you might like to get together.'
'I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!' said Harry.
There was a pause in which Sirius looked out of the fire at Harry, a crease be
tween his sunken eyes.
'You're less like your father than I thought,' he said finally, a definite coo
lness in his voice. The risk would've been what made it fun for James.'
'Look -'
'Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs,' said
Sirius, but Harry was sure he was lying. Til write to tell you a time I can m
ake it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?'
There was a tiny pop, and the place where Sirius's head had been was flickerin
g flame once more.
--
签名档??是写名字的地方吗?那,不就是在上面吗?:)
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