时间：02-21 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：7235
Harry paused, trying to see where the spiders were going, but everything outside his little sphere of *light was pitch-black. He had never been this deep into the forest before. He could vividly remember Hagrid advising him not to leave the forest path last time he'd been in here. But Hagrid was miles away now, probably sitting in a cell in Azkaban, and he had also said to follow the spiders.
"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside -"
Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.
Harry didn't even have time to turn around. There was a loud clicking noise and suddenly he felt something long and hairy seize him around the middle and lift him off the ground, so that he was hanging facedown. Struggling, terrified, he heard more clicking, and saw Ron's legs leave the ground, too, heard Fang whimpering and howling - next moment, he was being swept away into the dark trees.
Mr. Weasley's car was standing, empty, in the middle of a circle of thick trees under a roof of dense branches, its headlights ablaze. As Ron walked, open-mouthed, toward it, it moved slowly toward him, exactly like a large, turquoise dog greeting its owner.
"Sir," said Malfoy loudly. "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?"
"What d'you mean?" he said. "Look, give me my wand, I might need it -"
had. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won't want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won't last long, she's only filling in ......
"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.
"I'm going down there," he said. .
"Did you see -?"
The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.
"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" said Harry.
"And why did you want to meet me?" said Harry. Anger was coursing through him, and it was an effort to keep his voice steady.
Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets -- but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.