时间：2020 01-29 作者：xydgwnh 浏览量：87844
'Well, you already know, don't you?' said Mr Weasley, with a significant smile at Harry. 'It's very simple - I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on and bitten.'
'Here we go,' said Moody a moment later.
'Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?' asked Fred, looking at his father for a reaction. 'A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?'
Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard was performing an odd on-the-spot jig and trying, in between yelps of pain, to explain his predicament to the witch behind the desk.
Oh, Sirius, I'm so grateful . . . they think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer . . . of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas.'
And Dumbledore - what about Molly? said Professor McGonagall, pausing at the door.
There was only one thing for it: he would have to leave Grimmauld Place straightaway. He would spend Christmas at Hogwarts without the others, which would keep them sate over the holidays at least . . . but no, that wouldn't do, there were still plenty of people at Hogwarts to maim and injure. What if it was Seamus, Dean or Neville next time? He stopped his pacing and stood staring at Phineas Nigellus's empty frame. A leaden sensation was settling in the pit of his stomach. He had no alternative: he was going to have to return to Privet Drive, cut himself off from other wizards entirely.
'It's these - ouch - shoes my brother gave me - ow - they re eating my - OUCH - feet - look at them, there must be some kind of - AARGH - jinx on them and I can't - AAAAARGH - get them off.' He hopped from one foot to the other as though dancing on hot coals.
The subjects of the portraits lining the room were no longer pretending to be asleep; they were shifting around in their frames, the better to watch what was happening. When the clever-looking wizard continued to feign sleep, some of them shouted his name, too.
'No,' said Tonks musingly, 'no, I suppose it's not really prophecy you're doing, is it? I mean, you're not seeing the future, you're seeing the present . . . it's odd, isn't it? Useful, though . . .'
'Right,' said Tonks, beckoning them towards a window displaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummy. Its false eyelashes were hanging off and it was modelling a green nylon pinafore dress. 'Everybody ready?'
The ward was small and rather dingy, as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most of the light came from more shining crystal bubbles clustered in the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizard on the wall, captioned: Urquhart Rackharrow, 1612-1697, Inventor of the Entrail-expelling Curse.。