时间：02-20 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：9701
"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."
Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead -- if Cho got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Harry dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the field frantically -- a glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings -- the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goal post --
Madam Hooch was beside herself
"We -- we've been taking good care of him!" said Ron.
He pushed his graying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment then said, "That's where all of this starts -- with my becoming a werewolf, None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitter... and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."
Malfoy? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cloak -- nobody except Dumbledore. Harry's stomach turned over -- Dumbledore would know exactly what had happened, if Malfoy said any- thing --
"Lupin!" Snape called into the fire. "I want a word!"
"Yes," said Harry firmly.
Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. "Ready, Sirius?" said Lupin.
She had. Hermione returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under her robes.
"I don't know, Professor."
"Okay -- no wind to speak of -- sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it -- ground's fairly hard, good, that'll give us a fast kickoff --"
But that wasn't right, Harry thought suddenly... Scabbers had been looking ill before he met Crookshanks... ever since Ron's return from Egypt... since the time when Black had escaped....
Hagrid poured them tea and offered them a plate of Bath buns but they knew better than to accept; they had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking.
"What kept you?" Ron hissed.
Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find.
A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black.