时间：02-17 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：6612
"Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand --"
They huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella; Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes.
"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin --."
"Harry! Harry... wake up...."
Harry doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the hinkypunk's box with a cloth.
"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason --"
Snape's black eyes glittered.
"But if he -- you know" -- Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around -- "if he was trying to to poison Lupin -- he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry."
But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.
Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.
"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" said Ron. "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favoritism. Hey, Harry" -- Ron gave a great whoop of laughter -- "Malfoy! Wait till he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"
Hermione's spell had done the trick. Harry was still numb with cold, still wetter than he'd ever been in his life, but he could see. Full of fresh determination, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Diggory, who was streaking in the opposite direction....
"I know he's after me," said Harry wearily. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."
Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.
"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.;
Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that he was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls, and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale. Finally, he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand, and walked quietly out of the dormitory.？