正文预览

第5章 我的孩子茹儿

He is a proud man: all the Rochesters were proud: and his father,

Harry stopped in front of the desk and gazed down at his fifteen-year-old father.

having broken his leg in Mr. Creakle’s service, and having done a

Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

Harry and Ron went slowly upstairs to their dormitory. As Harry pulled on his pajamas, he looked over at Neville's bed. True to his word to Dumbledore, he had not told Ron and Hermione about Neville's parents. As Harry took off his glasses and climbed into his four-poster, he imagined how it must feel to have parents still living but unable to recognize you. He often got sympathy from strangers for being an orphan, but as he listened to Neville's snores, he thought that Neville deserved it more than he did. Lying in the darkness, Harry felt a rush of anger and hate toward the people who had tortured Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom.…He remembered the jeers of the crowd as Crouch's son and his companions had been dragged from the court by the dementors.…He understood how they had felt.…Then he remembered the milk-white face of the screaming boy and realized with a jolt that he had died a year later.…

Harry stared at it. “D'you reckon this is safe to open?” he asked.

having, on divers occasions, and by divers means and ways,

Having thus acknowledged what I owe those who have aided

He awoke with a start. The candles had all been extinguished in the common room, but there was something moving close by.