时间：02-19 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：3055
Dumbledore paused and looked inquiringly at Harry, who had opened his mouth to speak. Here, again, was Dumbledore's tendency to trust people in spite of overwhelming evidence that they did not deserve it! But then Harry remembered something. . . .
"No, I can't," she said flatly. "So don't even ask."
"Well, good night, Harry" said Hermione, though it was only seven o'clock in the evening, and she left for the girl s' dormitory without another word.
"Didn't you tell them, sir, what he'd been like when you met him at the orphanage?" asked Harry.
She hitched up the long roll of parchment on which she was writing her Arithma n cy essay and continued to scratch away with her quill. Harry wa t che d her with his mind a long way away.
'No!' she said angrily, and stormed away, leaving Harry alone and ankle-deep in snow.
And she hurried off, without ever giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any.
"After everything Fudge did last year?" said Harry angrily. "After Umbridge ?”
"But why would he do that?"
"Oh yes, for a very long time. But Dumbledore has been very protective of you," said Scrimgeour. "Natural, of course, natural, after what you've been through. . . . Especially what happened at : the Ministry ...":
"But he 'accidentally' let it slip that you're a werewolf, so you had to leave!" said Harry angrily.
"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headma ster say that nighttime prowling ' s out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"
Harry soared around the perimeter of the grounds, looking around for the Snitch and keeping one eye on Harper, who was zigzagging far below him. Then a voice that was jarringly different to the usual commentator's started up.
Harry walked slowly back up the grounds toward the castle through the crowd, many of whom shouted congratulations at him, but he felt a great sense of letdown; he had been sure that if Ron won the match, he and Hermione would be friends again immediately. He did not see how he could possibly explain to Hermi-one that what she had done to offend Ron was kiss Viktor Krum, not when the offense had occurred so long ago.
"What?" said Harry, wheeling around to stare at her. "He's ill? What's wrong with him?"
"So," said Dumbledore, in a ringing voice, "we meet this evening to continue the tale of Tom Riddle, whom we left last lesson poised on the threshold of his years at Hogwarts. You will remember how excited he was to hear that he was a wizard, that he refused my company on a trip to Diagon Alley, and that I, in turn, warned him against continued thievery when he arrived at school.
"Look , " sighed Hermione, "Secrecy Sensors detect jinxes, curses, and concealment charms, don't they? They're used to find d ark magic and d ark obje c ts. They'd have picked up a powerful curse , like the one in the necklace, withi n seconds. But something that's just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn ' t register -- anyway Love potions aren't d ark or dangerous ---"
Late in the afternoon, a few days after New Year, Harry, Ron, and Ginny lined up beside the kitchen fire to return to Hogwarts. The Ministry had arranged this one-off connection to the Floo Network to return students quickly and safely to the school. Only Mrs. Weasley was there to say good-bye, as Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Bill, and Fleur were all at work. Mrs. Weasley dissolved into tears at the moment of parting. Admittedly, it took very little to set her off lately; she had been crying on and off ever since Percy had stormed from the house on Christmas Day with his glasses splattered with mashed parsnip (for which Fred, George, and Ginny all claimed credit).？
Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. Nobody had finished the task, although Hermione was trying to cram a few more ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her. Ron had given up com-pletely, and was merely trying to avoid breathing in the putrid fumes issuing from his cauldron. Harry stood there waiting, the bezoar clutched in a slightly sweaty hand.。