时间：02-19 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：9290
"— got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve," said Hermione nastily.
'Not all of them do,' said Harry. 'But what happened? You screamed ... it sounded as though you were hurt...'
And she pointed into the sky, in the direction of Hogwarts. Dread flooded Harry at the sound of the words ... he turned and looked.
". . . terrible," Hagrid grunted, and his great shaggy head rolled sideways onto his arms and he fell asleep, snoring deeply.
"But his final destination — and ours — lies a little farther on. Come."
They looked at each other for a moment.
Chapter 25: The Seer Overheard
' ? told her it's a Hungarian Horntail,' said Ginny, turning a page of the newspaper idly. 'Much more macho.'
"I'm really sorry — I had to go out for something important —"
'What did you tell her?'
"Nonsense," said Slughorn briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."
"Out of the way, please, Harry," said Dumbledore. He raised his wand and made complicated movements over the surface of the-potion, murmuring soundlessly. Nothing happened, except per haps that the potion glowed a little brighter. Harry remained silent while Dumbledore worked, but after a while Dumbledore with-drew his wand, and Harry felt it was safe to talk again.
But Harry could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.
But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing.
"The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was the Hire of Slytherin. I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stu-pendous importance."
He felt stunned; it was as though a beloved pet had turned suddenly savage; what had the Prince been thinking to copy such a spell into his book? And what would happen when Snape saw it? Would he tell Slughorn — Harry's stomach churned — how Harry had been achieving such good results in Potions all year? Would he confiscate or destroy the book that had taught Harry so much . . . the book that had become a kind of guide and friend? Harry could not let it happen. . . . He could not. . .
He gasped. Despite his haste, his panic, his fear of what awaited him back in the bathroom, he could not help but be overawed by what he was looking at. He was standing in a room the size of a large cathedral, whose high windows were sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls, built of what Harry knew must be objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. There were alleyways and roads bordered by tetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by castle-proud house-elves. There were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough life in them to hover halfheartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like dragon eggshells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords, and a heavy, bloodstained axe.。