时间：02-22 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：3878
Great fat tears oozed out of the corners of Hagrid's crinkled eyes again; he grasped Harry's arm and shook it
'No!' said Hermione, as Ron unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, looking awestruck. 'We don't want it, you take it, who knows what you're going to be facing?'
"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that.. . . Come...."
"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."
"That's not unicorn hair, Hagrid?"
"You're a good boy," said Professor Slughorn, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into his walrus mustache. "And you've got her eyes. . . . Just don't think too badly of me once you've seen it. . . ,"
"Oh, something really silly . . . She said he was always trying to help her through the portrait hole, like she couldn't climb in herself . . . but they've been a bit rocky for ages."
"So . . . are you still looking for them, sir? Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?"
Together they raised their wands, concentrating with all their might, and pointed them at their flasks. Harry's vinegar turned to ice; Rons flask exploded.
All in all, the temptation to take another gulp of Felix Felicis was becoming stronger by the day, for surely this was a case for, as Hermione put it, "tweaking the circumstances"? The balmy days slid gently through May, and Ron seemed to be there at Harry's shoulder every time he saw Ginny. Harry found himself longing for a stroke of luck that would somehow cause Ron to realize that nothing would make him happier than his best friend and his sister falling for each other and to leave them alone together for longer than a few seconds. There seemed no chance of either while the final Quidditch game of the season was looming; Ron wanted to talk tactics with Harry all the time and had little thought for anything else.
'Well, why not? Harry, there aren't any real princes in the wizarding world! It's either a nickname, a made-up title somebody's given themselves, or it could be their actual name, couldn't it? No, listen! If, say, her father was a wizard
"So," said Harry, "the diary's gone, the ring's gone. The cup, the locket, and the snake are still intact, and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's?"
"I am the Chosen One. I have to kill him. I need that memory."
"The diary wasn't that special."
"Your word, Harry."
"Voldemort would have been reasonably confident that none but a very great wizard would have been able to find the boat," said Dumbledore. "I think he would have been prepared to risk what was, to his mind, the most unlikely possibility that somebody else would find it, knowing that he had set other obstacles ahead that only he would be able to penetrate. We shall see whether he was right."？
Dumbledore approached the wall of the cave and caressed it with his blackened fingertips, murmuring words in a strange tongue that Harry did not understand. Twice Dumbledore walked right around the cave, touching as much of the rough rock as he could, occasionally pausing, running his fingers backward and for-ward over a particular spot, until finally he stopped, his hand pressed flat against the wall. "Here," he said. "We go on through here. The entrance is con-cealed." Harry did not ask how Dumbledore knew. He had never seen a wizard work things out like this, simply by looking and touching; but Harry had long since learned that bangs and smoke were more often the marks of ineptitude than expertise. Dumbledore stepped back from the cave wall and pointed his wand at the rock. For a moment, an arched outline appeared there, blazing white as though there was a powerful light behind the crack.。