时间：02-24 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2803
"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Snape idly.
Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermione and Ron were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, they seated themselves on either side of Harry and didn't talk to each other for the whole class.
"Diagon Alley," said Harry.
An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart....
"Circumstances change, Harry... We have to take into account... in the present climate... Surely you don't want to be expelled?"
The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which graduily darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the ind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.
"W -- what?"
"Probably a stray," said Hermione calmly.
"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.
Ron appeared at Harry's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.
"The point is," Wood went on, resuming his pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harry joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing...."
Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising --
"Sorry -- d'you know what's going on? -- Ouch -- sorry
There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red, soccer-sized ball) through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each
Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish Harry's wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup.
The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.。