时间：02-22 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：8052
"What're you two laughing about?"
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.
Harry glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Both of them had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.
Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. He didn't argue or complain, but he wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus Two Thousand. He knew he was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Harry couldn't help it; he felt as though he'd lost one of his best friends.
She continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, "Er -- Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Harry has the Firebolt back? We need to practice...."
Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he drank some mot,, tea.
"She doesn't know," said Ron, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."
"Where is everyone?" said Harry.
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but --
"What defenses?" said Harry at once. "Can you teach me?"
Harry lay there, not saying a word. They had lost... for the first time ever, he had lost a Quidditch match.
"Look and see if there's a card," said Harry.
"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses -- Muggles, of course, we wiped their, memories later -- told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens...."
"No, I'm not!" said Harry.
Harry thought hard and decided his feelings when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom.
He hadn't told anyone about the Grim, not even Ron -and Hermione, because he knew Ron would panic and Hermione would scoff. The fact remained, however, that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, he had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus; the second, fallen fifty feet from his broomstick. Was the Grim going to haunt him until he actually died? Was he going to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for the beast?。