时间：02-21 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：1964
and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Harry Potter?"
Harry suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.
Harry shifted guiltily in his seat. He had been unconscious in the hospital wing for the final match of the previous year, meaning that Gryffindor had been a player short and had suffered their worst defeat in three hundred years.
"Let's go," said Ron's voice from his right.
He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron lay him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:
Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. Everything Harry had learned last year seemed to have leaked out of his head during the summer. He was supposed to be turning a beetle into a button, but all he managed
Something in Ron's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"
He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.
"But you're Muggles!" said Mr. Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" He pointed excitedly at the tenpound notes in Mr. Granger's hand.
"Oh - yes," said Harry, who was obviously supposed to agree.
(Hermione beamed as she had her hand shaken too) "- and Ron Weasley. Wasn't that your flying car?"
"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Ron slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once ... might've been Bill . . . ."
They had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter - Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."
They made regular checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing them a different view. London was soon far behind them, replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide, purplish moors, a great city alive with cars like multicolored ants, villages with tiny toy churches.