时间：02-22 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：5391
Ginny and Demelza were already wearing their Quidditch robes and waiting in the changing room.
"She's got to be joking. . . ."
"Come on, why not?" demanded Harry.
The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.
'Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!'
"Why didn't you confiscate them then?" demanded Harry, it seemed extraordinary that Hermione's m ania for upholding the rules could have abandoned her at this crucial juncture.
Lupin shrugged. "The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful."
"Yeah, well, that's what I'd like to do," said Harry defiantly.
"Yes, sir. I overheard them during Professor Slughorns party . . . well, I followed them, actually. ..."
"No," said Harry truthfully. |!.
"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape suddenly.
'Yes, of course,' said Slughorn quietly, still dabbing at his white face. 'Of course ... well, if you've seen that memory, Harry, you'll know that I don't know anything - anything -he repeated the word forcefully '- about Horcruxes.'
"Rufus Scrimgeour?" asked Luna.
"I don't think what you've got to say is unimportant, sir," said Harry stiffly.
“I assume that Dumbledore has discussed these matters with you?",
Ron fell asleep almost immediately, but Harry delved into his trunk and pulled out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making before getting into bed. There he turned its pages, searching, until he finally found, at the front of the book, the date that it had been pub-lished. It was nearly fifty years old. Neither his father, nor his father's friends, had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago. Feeling disappointed, Harry threw the book back into his trunk, turned off the lamp, and rolled over, thinking of werewolves and Snape, Stan Shunpike and the Half-Blood Prince, and finally falling into an uneasy sleep full of creeping shadows and the cries of bitten children. . . .
"Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, know-ing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback's insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people." "But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a — a
"A what?" shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. "A what, exactly?" "He doesn't mean anything, Ginny —" said Harry automati-cally, though the monster was roaring its approval of Ron's words. "Oh yes he does!" she said, flaring up at Harry. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel —"？
"I'm not trying to conceal anything from him, I just don't want you butting in !" Harry pressed his ear still more closely against the keyhole. . . . What had happened to make Malfoy speak to Snape like this — Snape, toward whom he had always shown respect, even liking?（央视记者 徐海霞）