FairyTales 版 (精华区)
发信人: yiren (雪白的血♀血红的雪), 信区: FairyTales
标 题: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire----29
发信站: 哈工大紫丁香 (2002年08月19日10:11:46 星期一), 站内信件
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - THE DREAM
It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her
forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else
attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking."
"It must've been Crouch," said Ron at once. "That's why he was
gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner."
"I don't think so," said Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed
really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."
"You cant Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told
you enough times?" said Hermione.
"Okay. . . hows this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum
attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"
"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" said Hermione coldly.
"Oh yeah . . ."
It was daybreak. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had crept out of
their dormitories very early and hurried up to the Owlery together
to send a note to Sirius. Now they were standing looking out at the
misty grounds. All three of them were puffy-eyed and pale because
they had been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch.
"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione. "What did
Mr. Crouch actually say?"
"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense," said Harry. "He
said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely
mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He
kept saying stuff was his fault. . . . He mentioned his son."
"Well, that was his fault," said Hermione testily.
"He was out of his mind," said Harry. "Half the time he seemed
to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to
Percy about work and giving him instructions."
"And . . . remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" said
Ron tentatively.
"I've told you," Harry repeated dully. "He said he's getting
stronger."
There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice,
"But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was
probably just raving. ..."
"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," said
Harry, and Ron winced at the sound of the name. "He was having real
trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed
to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept
saying he had to see Dumbledore."
Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the
rafters. The many perches were half-empty; every now and then,
another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning
from its night's hunting with a mouse in its beak.
"If Snape hadn't held me up," Harry said bitterly, "we might've
got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy. Potter . . . what's
this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"
"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" said Ron quickly. "Maybe
- hang on - how fast d'you reckon he could've gotten down to the
forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"
"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,"
said Harry.
"Wouldn't put it past him," Ron muttered.
"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione. "We need to
find out whether he found Mr. Crouch,"
"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy,"
said Harry.
"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," said Ron,
"because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't -"
"Shh!" said Hermione suddenly.
Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could
hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.
"- that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble
for that-"
"- we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like
him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did -"
"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"
"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff,
will you?"
The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the
threshold, then froze at the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time.
"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.
"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.
Fred grinned.
"Fine - we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us,"
he said.
He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Harry glanced
at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his
hand so that the name on it was covered.
"Well, don't let us hold you up," Fred said, making a mock bow
and pointing at the door.
Ron didn't move. "Who're you blackmailing?" he said.
The grin vanished from Fred's face. Harry saw George half glance
at Fred, before smiling at Ron.
"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he said easily.
"Didn't sound like that," said Ron.
Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly,
"I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the
shape it is. Can't see why you would, but -"
"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone," said
Ron. "George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."
"Told you, I was joking," said George. He walked over to Fred,
pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the
leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like
our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll
be made a prefect."
"No, I won't!" said Ron hotly.
George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took
off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.
"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."
He and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared
at one another.
"You don't think they know something about all this, do
you?" Hermione whispered. "About Crouch and everything?"
"No," said Harry. "If it was something that serious, they'd
tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."
Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked him.
"Well. . ." said Ron slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're
. . . they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when
I was hanging around with them - when - you know -"
"We weren't talking." Harry finished the sentence for him. "Yeah,
but blackmail..."
"It's this joke shop idea they've got," said Ron. "I thought
they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it,
they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts,
they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future,
and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started."
Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.
"Yes, but. . . they wouldn't do anything against the law to
get gold."
"Wouldn't they?" said Ron, looking skeptical. "I dunno . . . they
don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?"
"Yes, but this is the law" said Hermione, looking scared. "This
isn't some silly school rule. . . . They'll get a lot more than
detention for blackmail! Ron. . . maybe you'd
better tell Percy. . . ."
"Are you mad?" said Ron. "Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch
and turn them in." He stared at the window through which Fred and
George's owl had departed, then said, "Come on, let's get some
breakfast."
"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor
Moody?" Hermione said as they went down the spiral staircase.
"Yes," said Harry. "He'd probably blast us through the door
if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to
attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."
History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking
Ron's watch, having finally discarded his own, but Ron's was moving
so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working too. All three
of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on
the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn't taking her usual notes,
but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor
Binns with her eyes out of focus.
When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors
toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving
it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye
was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance
than usual.
"Professor Moody?" Harry called as they made their way toward
him through the crowd.
"Hello, Potter," growled Moody. His magical eye followed a
couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it
rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the
corner before he spoke again.
"Come in here."
He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in
after them, and closed the door.
"Did you find him?" Harry asked without preamble. "Mr. Crouch?"
"No," said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched
out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask.
"Did you use the map?" Harry said.
"Of course," said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. "Took
a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into
the forest. He wasn't anywhere on there."
"So he did Disapparate?" said Ron.
"You can't Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!" said
Hermione. "There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren't
there, Professor?"
Moody's magical eye quivered as it rested on Hermione. "You're
another one who might think about a career as an Auror," he told
her. "Mind works the right way. Granger."
Hermione flushed pink with pleasure.
"Well, he wasn't invisible," said Harry. "The map shows invisible
people. He must've left the grounds, then."
"But under his own steam?" said Hermione eagerly, "or because
someone made him?"
"Yeah, someone could've - could've pulled him onto a broom
and flown off with him, couldn't they?" said Ron quickly, looking
hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings
of an Auror.
"We can't rule out kidnap," growled Moody.
"So," said Ron, "d'you reckon he's somewhere in Hogsmeade?"
"Could be anywhere," said Moody, shaking his head. "Only thing
we know for sure is that he's not here."
He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided
mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, "Now,
Dumbledore's told me you three fancy yourselves as investigators,
but there's nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry'll be looking
for him now, Dumbledore's notified them. Potter, you just keep your
mind on the third task."
"What?" said Harry. "Oh yeah . . ."
He hadn't given the maze a single thought since he'd left it
with Krum the previous night.
"Should be right up your street, this one," said Moody, looking
up at Harry and scratching his scarred and stubbly chin. "From
what Dumbledore's said, you've managed to get through stuff like
this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles
guarding the Sorcerers Stone in your first year, didn't you?"
"We helped," Ron said quickly. "Me and Hermione helped."
Moody grinned.
"Well, help him practice for this one, and I'll be very surprised
if he doesn't win,"
said Moody. "In the meantime .. . constant vigilance,
Potter. Constant vigilance." He took another long draw from his
hip flask, and his magical eye swiveled onto the window.
The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it.
"You two," counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione,
"you stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things,
but all the same . . . you can never have too many eyes out."
Sirius sent their owl back the very next morning. It fluttered
down beside Harry at the same moment that a tawny owl landed in
front of Hermione, clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet in its
beak. She took the newspaper, scanned the first few pages, said, "Ha!
She hasn't got wind of Crouch!" then joined Ron and Harry in
reading what Sirius had to say on the mysterious events of the
night before last.
Harry - what do you think you are playing at, walking off into
the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that
you are not going to go walking with anyone else at night. There is
somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they
wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably
feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed.
Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If
someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay
close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after
hours, and arm yourself for the third task. Practice Stunning
and Disarming. A few hexes wouldn't go amiss either. There's
nothing you can do about Crouch. Keep your head down and look after
yourself. I'm waiting for your letter giving me your word you won't
stray out-of-bounds again.
Sirius "Who's he, to lecture me about being out-of-bounds?" said
Harry in mild indignation as he folded up Sirius's letter and put
it inside his robes. "After all the stuff he did at school!"
"He's worried about you!" said Hermione sharply. "Just like
Moody and Hagrid! So listen to them!"
"No one's tried to attack me all year," said Harry. "No one's
done anything to me at all-"
"Except put your name in the Goblet of Fire," said Hermione. "And
they must've done that for a reason. Harry. Snuffles is right. Maybe
they've been biding their time. Maybe this is the task they're
going to get you."
"Look," said Harry impatiently, "let's say Sirius is right,
and someone Stunned Krum to kidnap Crouch. Well, they would've
been in the trees near us, wouldn't they? But they waited till I
was out of the way until they acted, didn't they? So it doesn't
look like I'm their target, does it?"
"They couldn't have made it look like an accident if they'd
murdered you in the forest!"
said Hermione. "But if you die during a task-"
"They didn't care about attacking Krum, did they?" said
Harry. "Why didn't they just polish me off at the same time? They
could've made it look like Krum and I had a duel or something."
"Harry, I don't understand it either," said Hermione
desperately. "I just know there are a lot of odd things going on,
and I don't like it. ... Moody's right - Sirius is right -you've
got to get in training for the third task, straight away. And you
make sure you write back to Sirius and promise him you're not going
to go sneaking off alone again."
The Hogwarts grounds never looked more inviting than when Harry
had to stay indoors. For the next few days he spent all of his free
time either in the library with Hermione and Ron, looking up hexes,
or else in empty classrooms, which they sneaked into to practice.
Harry was concentrating on the Stunning Spell, which he had
never used before. The trouble was that practicing it involved
certain sacrifices on Ron's and Hermione's part.
"Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris?" Ron suggested on Monday lunchtime
as he lay flat on his back in the middle of their Charms classroom,
having just been Stunned and reawoken by Harry for the fifth
time in a row. "Let's Stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dobby,
Harry, I bet he'd do anything to help you. I'm not complaining or
anything" - he got gingerly to his feet, rubbing his backside -
"but I'm aching all over. ..."
"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" said Hermione
impatiently, rearranging
the pile of cushions they had used for the Banishing Spell,
which Flitwick had left in a cabinet. "Just try and fall backward!"
"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione! "said
Ron angrily. "Why don't you take a turn?"
"Well, I think Harry's got it now, anyway," said Hermione
hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because he's
been able to do that for ages. ... I think we ought to start on
some of these hexes this evening."
She looked down the list they had made in the library.
"I like the look of this one," she said, "this Impediment
Curse. Should slow down anything that's trying to attack
you. Harry. We'll start with that one."
The bell rang. They hastily shoved the cushions back into
Flitwicks cupboard and slipped out of the classroom.
"See you at dinner!" said Hermione, and she set off for
Arithmancy, while Harry and Ron headed toward North Tower, and
Divination. Broad strips of dazzling gold sunlight tell across the
corridor from the high windows. The sky outside was so brightly
blue it looked as though it had been enameled.
"It's going to be boiling in Trelawney's room, she never puts
out that fire," said Ron as they started up the staircase toward
the silver ladder and the trapdoor.
He was quite right. The dimly lit room was swelteringly hot. The
fumes from the perfumed fire were heavier than ever. Harrys head
swam as he made his way over to one of the curtained windows. While
Professor Trelawney was looking the other way, disentangling her
shawl from a lamp, he opened it an inch or so and settled back
in his chintz armchair, so that a soft breeze played across his
face. It was extremely comfortable.
"My dears," said Professor Trelawney, sitting down in her
winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at them
all with her strangely enlarged eyes, "we have almost finished our
work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent
opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most
interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way,
I will dim the lights. . . ."
She waved her wand and the lamps went out. The fire was the
only source of light now.
Professor Trelawney bent down and lifted, from under her
chair, a miniature model of the solar system, contained within a
glass dome. It was a beautiful thing; each of the moons glimmered
in place around the nine planets and the fiery sun, all of them
hanging in thin air beneath the glass. Harry watched lazily as
Professor Trelawney began to point out the fascinating angle Mars
was making to Neptune. The heavily perfumed fumes washed over him,
and the breeze from the window played across his face. He could
hear an insect humming gently somewhere behind the curtain. His
eyelids began to droop. . . .
He was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through
the clear blue sky toward an old, ivy-covered house set high on a
hillside. Lower and lower they flew, the wind blowing pleasantly in
Harry's face, until they reached a dark and broken window in the
upper story of the house and entered. Now they were flying along
a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end . . . through the
door they went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up....
Harry had left the owl's back... he was watching, now,
as it fluttered across the room, into a chair with its back to
him. . . . There were two dark shapes on the floor beside the chair
. . . both of them were stirring. . . .
One was a huge snake . . . the other was a man ... a short,
balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose ... he was
wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug. . . .
"You are in luck, Wormtail," said a cold, high-pitched voice
from the depths of the chair in which the owl had landed. "You are
very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. He
is dead."
"My Lord!" gasped the man on the floor. "My Lord, I am ... I
am so pleased . . . and so sorry. ..."
"Nagini," said the cold voice, "you are out of luck. I will not
be feeding Wormtail to you, after all... but never mind, never mind
. . . there is still Harry Potter. ..."
The snake hissed. Harry could see its tongue fluttering.
"Now, Wormtail," said the cold voice, "perhaps one more little
reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you. ..."
"My Lord ... no ... I beg you . . ."
The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It
was pointing at Wormtail.
"Crucio!" said the cold voice.
Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body
were on fire, the screaming filled Harry's ears as the scar on his
forehead seared with pain; he was yelling too...Voldemort would
hear him, would know he was there. . . .
"Harry! Harry!"
Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of Professor
Trelawney's room with his hands over his face. His scar was still
burning so badly that his eyes were watering.
The pain had been real. The whole class was standing around him,
and Ron was kneeling next to him, looking terrified.
"You all right?" he said.
"Of course he isn't!" said Professor Trelawney, looking
thoroughly excited. Her great eyes loomed over Harry, gazing at
him. "What was it. Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did
you see?"
"Nothing," Harry lied. He sat up. He could feel himself
shaking. He couldn't stop himself from looking around, into the
shadows behind him; Voldemorts voice had sounded so close. . . .
"You were clutching your scar!" said Professor Trelawney. "You
were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now. Potter,
I have experience in these matters!"
Harry looked up at her.
"I need to go to the hospital wing, I think," he said. "Bad
headache."
"My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary
clairvoyant vibrations of my room!" said Professor Trelawney. "If
you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than
you have ever -"
"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," said
Harry.
He stood up. The class backed away. They all looked unnerved.
"See you later," Harry muttered to Ron, and he picked up his
bag and headed for the trapdoor, ignoring Professor Trelawney,
who was wearing an expression of great frustration, as though she
had just been denied a real treat.
When Harry reached the bottom of her stepladder, however, he did
not set off for the hospital wing. He had no intention whatsoever
of going there. Sirius had told him what to do if his scar hurt
him again, and Harry was going to follow his advice: He was going
straight to Dumbledore's office. He marched down the corridors,
thinking about what he had seen in the dream . . . it had been as
vivid as the one that had awoken him on Privet Drive. . . . He ran
over the details in his mind, trying to make sure he could remember
them. . . . He had heard Voldemort accusing Wormtail of making a
blunder . . . but the owl had brought good news, the blunder had
been repaired, somebody was dead ... so Wormtail was not going
to be fed to the snake . . . he, Harry, was going to be fed to it
instead. . . .
Harry had walked right past the stone gargoyle guarding the
entrance to Dumbledores office without noticing. He blinked, looked
around, realized what he had done, and retraced his steps, stopping
in front of it. Then he remembered that he didn't know the password.
"Sherbet lemon?" he tried tentatively.
The gargoyle did not move.
"Okay," said Harry, staring at it, "Pear Drop. Er - Licorice
Wand. Fizzing Whizbee.
Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans
... oh no, he doesn't like them, does he?... oh just open, can't
you?" he said angrily. "I really need to see him, its urgent!"
The gargoyle remained immovable.
Harry kicked it, achieving nothing but an excruciating pain in
his big toe.
"Chocolate Frog!" he yelled angrily, standing on one leg. "Sugar
Quill! Cockroach Cluster!"
The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. Harry blinked.
"Cockroach Cluster?" he said, amazed. "I was only joking. ..."
He hurried through the gap in the walls and stepped onto the
foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upward as the
doors closed behind him, taking him up to a polished oak door with
a brass door knocker.
He could hear voices from inside the office. He stepped off
the moving staircase and hesitated, listening.
"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see
it at all!" It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius
Fudge. "Ludo says Berthas perfectly capable of
getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have
found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play,
Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with
Barty Crouch's!"
"And what do you thinks happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" said
Moody's growling voice.
"I see two possibilities, Alastor," said Fudge. "Either Crouch
has finally cracked -more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree,
given his personal history - lost his mind, and gone wandering off
somewhere -"
"He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius,"
said Dumbledore calmly.
"Or else - well..." Fudge sounded embarrassed. "Well, I'll
reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found,
but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore,
you know what that woman is?"
"I consider her to be a very able headmistress - and an excellent
dancer," said Dumbledore quietly.
"Dumbledore, come!" said Fudge angrily. "Don't you think you
might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't
all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless,
with that monster fixation he's got -"
"I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid," said Dumbledore,
just as calmly. "I think it possible that it is you who are
prejudiced, Cornelius."
"Can we wrap up this discussion?" growled Moody.
"Yes, yes, let's go down to the grounds, then," said Fudge
impatiently.
"No, it's not that," said Moody, "it's just that Potter wants
a word with you, Dumbledore. He's just outside the door
--
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※ 修改:·yiren 於 08月20日10:59:08 修改本文·[FROM: 202.118.170.229]
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