时间：2020 01-21 作者：edrtqov 浏览量：77777
'Come here,' she said, after what seemed hours.
'Er . . . no, I don't think I will, thanks,' he said. 'Er - not tomorrow. I've got loads of homework to do . . .'
Of course, she had preferred Cedric, he knew that . . . though if he'd only asked her to the Ball before Cedric had, things might have turned out differently . . . she had seemed sincerely sorry that she'd had to refuse when Harry asked her . . .
At five o'clock that evening he knocked on Professor Umbridge's office door for what he sincerely hoped would be the final time, and was told to enter. The blank parchment lay ready for him on the lace-covered table, the pointed black quill beside it.
'Well, why didn't you do any last night?' Hermione asked him. 'Where were you, anyway?'
I must not tell lies.
'Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on self-fertilising shrubs first and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus Spell before lunch . . .'
That Umbridge woman's foul,' she said in a low voice. 'Putting you in detention just because you told the truth about how - how - how he died. Everyone heard about it, it was all over the school. You were really brave standing up to her like that.'
This time they had been flying for barely three minutes when Angelinas whistle sounded. Harry, who had just sighted the Snitch circling the opposite goalpost, pulled up feeling distinctly aggrieved.
She held up the parcel.
Harry looked round at Ron, who was hovering in front of the left-hand hoop, leaving the other two completely unprotected.
He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel - yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth.
Something in her would-be casual voice made Harry think he might know who the uninvited spectators were, and sure enough, when they left the changing room for the bright sunlight of the pitch it was to a storm of catcalls and jeers from the Slytherin Quidditch team and assorted hangers-on, who were grouped halfway up the empty stands and whose voices echoed loudly around the stadium.。