时间：02-29 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2095
Harry had never been in this direction before. The winding lane was leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for them, its front paws on the topmost bar, was a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth and looking very familiar. . . .
"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?" she asked quietly.
"No," said Harry, without the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about.
Harry could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.
"Er . . . could I ask you about. . . that court thing I was in ... in the Pensieve?"
voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -"
"No, it's not that," said Moody, "it's just that Potter wants a word with you, Dumbledore. He's just outside the door."
"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."
"This," said Karkaroff, and Harry, peering around the edge of his cauldron, saw Karkaroff
Dumbledore's office gave an almighty lurch - Harry was thrown forward and pitched headfirst into the substance inside the basin -But his head did not hit the stone bottom. He was falling through something icy-cold and black; it was like being sucked into a dark whirlpool -And suddenly, Harry found himself sitting on a bench at the end of the room inside the basin, a bench raised high above the others. He looked up at the high stone ceiling, expecting to see the circular window through which he had just been staring, but there was nothing there but dark, solid stone.
"No," said Sirius dully. "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."
Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.
"Well, it's not strong, that stuff," Harry said.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."
"I'll leave Fang with yeh. Headmaster," Hagrid said, staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree roots. "Stay, Fang.
Harry scanned the story about Crouch. Phrases jumped out at him: hasn't been seen in public since November. . . house appears deserted. . . St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment. . . Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness. . . .？