时间：02-19 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2046
He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see. He reminded Harry vividly of an old tramp he had seen once when out shopping with the Dursleys. That man too had been conversing wildly with thin air; Aunt Petunia had seized Dudley's hand and pulled him across the road to avoid him; Uncle Vernon had then treated the family to a long rant about what he would like to do with beggars and vagrants.
must warn . . . must tell... see Dumbledore . . . my fault... all my fault. . . Bertha .
Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, was standing on his golden perch beside the door.
voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time -"
said Mr. Crouch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than -"
"- we never knew the names of every one of our fellows - He alone knew exactly who we all were -"
Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were black. He was not dressed in sleek furs, but in thin and ragged robes. He was shaking. Even as Harry watched, the chains on the arms of the chair glowed suddenly gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.
"I do know," said Dumbledore promptly. "Please continue."
"We never thought of her, did we?" said Ron slowly. "Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it-"
"Didn't you hear me. Potter?"
"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another.
Mr. Crouch's voice faded. Harry looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; he could see only his own body - all else was swirling darkness. . . .
"Nothing," Harry lied. He sat up. He could feel himself shaking. He couldn't stop himself from looking around, into the shadows behind him; Voldemorts voice had sounded so close. . . .
"He gave his own son to the dementors?" asked Harry quietly.
"Chocolate Frog!" he yelled angrily, standing on one leg. "Sugar Quill! Cockroach Cluster!"
"My dears," said Professor Trelawney, sitting down in her winged armchair in front of the class and peering around at them all with her strangely enlarged eyes, "we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights. . . ."