时间：02-19 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2146
"Dunno," said Harry, but his mind was racing. Didn't this look as though Malfoy had more important things on his mind than bullying younger students?
"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise ?any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss," he twinkled at Ginny. "Well, off you go, off you go!"
"Hermione?" said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still hadn't turned around. "How did you do?"
"Oh ... is she here too?" Harry croaked.
I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at 8 P.M. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school.
Mr. Borgin squinted at her. Harry had the nasty feeling he knew exactly what Hermione was up to. Apparently Hermione felt she had been rumbled too because she suddenly threw caution to the
"I'm not sure, Harry. . . ."
while surrounded by a battalion of Aurors. He had stowed his Invisibility Cloak in his backpack and felt that, if that was good enough for Dumbledore, it ought to be good enough for the Ministry, though now he came to think of it, he was not sure the Ministry knew about his cloak.
"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option," mumbled Neville.
They had drawn level with the only shop in Knockturn Alley that Harry had ever visited, Borgin and Burkes, which sold a wide variety of sinister objects. There in the midst of the cases full of skulls and old bottles stood Draco Malfoy with his back to them, just visible beyond the very same large black cabinet in which Harry had once hidden to avoid Malfoy and his father. Judging by the movements of Malfoy's hands, he was talking animatedly. The proprietor of the shop, Mr. Borgin, an oily-haired, stooping man, stood facing Malfoy. He was wearing a curious expression of mingled resentment and fear.
"Bill told me W Fred and George are very amusing!" said Fleur, smiling serenely.
Harry's stomach squirmed. He wished he had eaten less breakfast.
"She hasn't been much of a laugh lately," said Ron. "Every time I've seen her she's looked more like Moaning Myrtle."
"Do you mean —“
"Did you have any particular reason for doing so, or was it a mere whim?"