时间：02-26 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：3798
"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.
"What did you do that for?" said Harry furiously. Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and zoomed backward out of the room, cackling.
"This might help, look -- a manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the manticore off -- oh -- no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it."
At that very moment, Hermione appeared at his shoulder; she was holding her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming.
It was as though Harry's memory was on fast forward. The lightning -- the Grim -- the Snitch -- and the dementors...
"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man -- cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored -- asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him -- and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."
"Getting to all her classes!" Ron said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't 've been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them either!"
"A bit of old parchment!" said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him. "Explain, George."
"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.
Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Harry watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Harry, Ron, and Hermlone, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.
"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."
He lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold his broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Twice Harry nearly hit another player, without knowing whether it was a teammate or opponent; everyone was now so wet, and the rain so thick, he could hardly tell them apart....
"But he didn't even break his glasses."
"Dissendium!" Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again.
If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?