时间：02-18 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：3132
Ron had panicked on reading this notice; he had still not man-aged to Apparate and feared he would not be ready for the test. Hermione, who had now achieved Apparition twice, was a little more confident, but Harry, who would not be seventeen for an-other four months, could not take the test whether ready or not.
"Hmmm... the Dark Mark we don't know exists," said Hermi-one skeptically, rolling up Ron's dried essay before it could come to any more harm and handing it to him.
'Who are you talking about?'
"I do," she said, with a sulky little shrug, "but that doesn't mean I cant visit other places. I came and saw you in your bath once, remember?"
"So how's McLaggen shaping up?" he asked Harry nervously, apparently forgetting that he had already asked the same question twice.
On the morning of the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Harry dropped in on the hospital wing before heading down to the pitch. Ron was very agitated; Madam Pomfrey would not let him go down to watch the match, feeling it would overexcite him.
"Blimey, it was lucky you thought of a bezoar," said George in a low voice.
'I love her,' repeated Ron breathlessly. 'Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky ... and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her -'
'Why does that stop you having breakfast?' Harry asked, trying to inject a note of common sense into the proceedings.
"Yeah, of course!" said Harry loudly, staring at her. "Of course! Malfoy must've been inside the room at the time, so she — what am I talking about? — he dropped the scales to tell Malfoy not to corne out, because there was someone there! And there was that girl who dropped the toadspawn too! We've been walking past him all the time and not realizing it!"
But only one word of this seemed to have registered with Ron.
"Trust me," he said. "I know what I'm doing ... or at least" he strolled confidently to the door— "Felix does."
"Has he?" said Harry, putting his bruised foot gingerly back on the floor. "Hey — you don't know where he goes, I suppose?"
Swearing angrily, Harry spun round and set off around the pitch again, scanning the skies for some sign of the tiny, winged golden ball.
"Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey!" said Hepzibah, waving a little hand. "I've something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom, you'll appreciate it for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it."
Harry let out a hastily stifled gasp. Voldemort had entered the room. His features were not those Harry had seen emerge from the great stone cauldron almost two years ago: They were not as snake-like, the eyes were not yet scarlet, the face not yet masklike, and yet he was no longer handsome Tom Riddle. It was as though his features had been burned and blurred; they were waxy and oddly distorted, and the whites of the eyes now had a permanently bloody look, though the pupils were not yet the slits that Harry knew they would become. He was wearing a long black cloak, and his face was as pale as the snow glistening on his shoulders.