时间：02-27 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：6097
"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Lupin. "You, boy -- give me Peter, please. Now."
"The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear boy, that's hardly something to joke about.... Rise again, indeed --"
"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony -- that was my friends' nickname for me at school."
Harry sat. Snape, however, remained, standing.
"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass -- very difficult indeed -- YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"
They had no choice. As Hermione threw the cloak over Harry and Ron, they heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.
"He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harry thoughtfully. "He'd've had to kill the whole House to get back through the portrait hole... then he would' ve met the teachers...."
Harry took it. The parchment was damp, and enormous teardrops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very difficult to read.
Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor -- someone was moving downstairs.
"No, I'm not!" said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. "I just made a mistake, that's all! I'd better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry... I'll see you in Divination!"
"Come to have a good gloat?" said Ron savagely as she stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"
"He's got a toe missing," said Black.
And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.
"Perce -- Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"
Throughout the day, everywhere they went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.