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Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban哈利波特与阿兹卡
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing they saw was Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As they passed, Malfoy did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.
“Ignore him,” said Hermione, who was right behind Harry. “Just ignore him, it's not worth it…”
“Hey, Potter!” shrieked Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. “Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooooo!”
Harry dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to George Weasley.
“New third-year course schedules,” said George, passing then, over. “What's up with you, Harry?”
“Malfoy,” said Ron, sitting down on George's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.
George looked up in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again.
“That little git,” he said calmly. “He wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?”
“Nearly wet himself,” said Fred, with a contemptuous glance at Malfoy.
“I wasn't too happy myself,” said George. “They're horrible things, those Dementors…”
“Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?” said Fred.
“You didn't pass out, though, did you?” said Harry in a low voice.
“Forget it, Harry,” said George bracingly. “Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking…They suck the happiness out of a place, Dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there.”
“Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match,” said Fred. “Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?”
The only time Harry and Malfoy had faced each other in a Quidditch match, Malfoy had definitely come off worse. Feeling slightly more cheerful, Harry helped himself to sausages and fried tomatoes.
Hermione was examining her new schedule.
“Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today,” she said happily.
“Hermione,” said Ron, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, “they've messed up your timetable. Look — they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time.”
“I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”
“But look,” said Ron, laughing, “see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And —” Ron leaned closer to the timetable, disbelieving, “look — underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?”
“Don't be silly,” said Hermione shortly. “Of course I won't be in three classes at once.”
“Well then —”
“Pass the marmalade,” said Hermione.
“But —”
“Oh, Ron, what's it to you if my timetable's a bit full?” Hermione snapped. “I told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”
Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. He was wearing his long moleskin overcoat and was absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand.
“All righ'?” he said eagerly, pausing on his way to the staff table. “Yer in my firs’ ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five getting’ everthin’ ready…hope it's OK…me, a teacher…hones'ly…”
He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.
“Wonder what he's been getting ready?” said Ron, a note of anxiety in his voice.
The Hall was starting to empty as people headed off towards their first lesson. Ron checked his schedule.
“We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there…”
They finished breakfast hastily, said goodbye to Fred and George and walked back through the hall. As they passed the Slytherin table, Malfoy did yet another impression of a fainting fit. The shouts of laughter followed Harry into the Entrance Hall.
The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before.
“There's — got — to — be — a — short — cut,” Ron panted, as they climbed the seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.
“I think it's this way,” said Hermione, peering down the empty passage to the right.
“Can't be,” said Ron. “That's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake outside the window…”
Harry was watching the painting. A fat, dappled-gray pony had just ambled onto the grass and was grazing nonchalantly. Harry was used to the subjects of Hogwarts paintings moving around and leaving their frames to visit each other, but he always enjoyed watching them. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armour had clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.
“Aha!” he yelled, seeing Harry, Ron and Hermione. “What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!”
They watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword
a particularly wild swing made him overbalance, and he landed facedown in the grass.
“Are you all right?” said Harry, moving closer to the picture.
“Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!”
The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.
“Listen,” said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, “we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?”
“A quest!” The knight's rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, “Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!”
He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, “On foot then, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!”
And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.
They hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Every now and then they spotted him running through a picture ahead.
“Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!” yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.
Puffing loudly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed the tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last they heard the murmur of voices above them and knew they had reached the classroom.
“Farewell!” cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. “Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!”
“Yeah, we'll call you,” muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, “if we ever need someone mental.”
They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Ron nudged Harry and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.
“‘Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher,'” Harry read. “How're we supposed to get up there?”
As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry's feet. Everyone got quiet.
“After you,” said Ron, grinning, so Harry climbed the ladder first.
He emerged into the strangest-looking classroom he had ever seen. In fact, it didn't look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone's attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.
Ron appeared at Harry's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.
“Where is she?” Ron said.
A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.
“Welcome,” it said. “How nice to see you in the physical world at last.”
Harry's immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw th her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.
“Sit, my children, sit,” she said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat themselves around the same round table.
“Welcome to Divination,” said Professor Trelawney, who had seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. “My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.”
Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged her shawl and continued, “So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you…Books can take you only so far in this field…”
At these words, both Harry and Ron glanced, grinning, at Hermione, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn't be much help in this subject.
“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future,” Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. “It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy,” she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. “Is your grandmother well?”
“I think so,” said Neville tremulously.
“I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear,” said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on her long emerald earrings. Neville gulped. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. “We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear,” she shot suddenly at Parvati Patil, “beware a red-haired man.”
Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her and edged her chair away from him.
“In the second term,” Professor Trelawney went on, “we shall progress to the crystal ball — if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever.”
A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.
“I wonder, dear,” she said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, “if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?”
Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.
“Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading — it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October.”
Lavender trembled.
“Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear,” — she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up, “after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink.”
Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, “One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn't mind…thank you…”
When Harry and Ron had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.
“Right,” said Ron as they both opened their books at pages five and six. “What can you see in mine?”
“A load of soggy brown stuff,” said Harry. The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making him feel sleepy and stupid.
“Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!” Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.
Harry tried to pull himself together.
“Right, you've got a crooked sort of cross…” He consulted Unfogging the Future. “That means you're going to have ‘trials and suffering’ — sorry about that — but there's a thing that could be the sun. Hang on…that means ‘great happiness'…so you're going to suffer but be very happy…”
“You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me,” said Ron, and they both had to stifle their laughs as Professor Trelawney gazed in their direction.
“My turn…” Ron peered into Harry's teacup, his forehead wrinkled with effort. “There's a blob a bit like a bowler hat,” he said. “Maybe you're going to work for the Ministry of Magic…”
He turned the teacup the other way up.
“But this way it looks more like an acorn…what's that?” He scanned his copy of Unfogging the Future. “‘A windfall, unexpected gold.’ Excellent, you can lend me some. And there's a thing here,” he turned the cup again, “that looks like an animal…yeah, if that was its head…it looks like a hippo…no, a sheep…”
Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harry let out a snort of laughter.
“Let me see that, my dear,” she said reprovingly to Ron, sweeping over and snatching Harry's cup from him. Everyone went quiet to watch.
Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise.
“The falcon…my dear, you have a deadly enemy.”
“But everyone knows that,” said Hermione in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at her.
“Well, they do,” said Hermione. “Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.”
Harry and Ron stared at her with a mixture of amazement and admiration. They had never heard Hermione speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup again and continued to turn it.
“The club…an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…”
“I thought that was a bowler hat,” said Ron sheepishly.
“The skull…danger in your path, my dear…”
Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.
There was another tink Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.
“My dear boy — my poor dear boy — no — it is kinder not to say — no — don't ask me.…”
“What is it, Professor?” said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harry and Ron's table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.
“My dear,” Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, “you have the Grim.”
“The what?” said Harry.
He could tell that he wasn't the only one who didn' Dean Thomas shrugged at him and Lavender Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.
“The Grim, my dear, the Grim!” cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harry hadn't understood. “The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen — the worst omen — of death!”
Harry's stomach lurched. That dog on the cover of Death Omens in Flourish and Blotts — the dog in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent…Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth too. Everyone was looking at Harry, everyone except Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.
“I don't think it looks like a Grim,” she said flatly.
Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.
“You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.”
Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side.
“It looks like a Grim if you do this,” he said, with his eyes almost shut, “but it looks more like a donkey from here,” he said, leaning to the left.
“When you've all finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not!” said Harry, taking even himself by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at him.
“I think we will leave the lesson here for today,” said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest voice. “Yes…please pack away your things…”
Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags. Even Ron was avoiding Harry's eyes.
“Until we meet again,” said Professor Trelawney faintly, “fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear,” — she pointed at Neville, “you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione descended Professor Trelawney's ladder and the winding stair in silence, then set off for Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration lesson. It took them so long to find her classroom that, early as they had left Divination, they were only just in time.
Harry chose a seat right at the back of the room, feeling as though he were sitting in a v the rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at him, as though he were about to drop dead at any moment. He hardly heard what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and wasn't even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes.
“Really, what has got into you all today?” said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. “Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class.”
Everybody's heads turned toward Harry again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.
“Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and —”
“Ah, of course,” said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. “There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”
Everyone stared at her.
“Me,” said Harry, finally.
“I see,” said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harry with her beady eyes. “Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —” Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…”
She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.”
Hermione laughed. Harry felt a bit better. It was harder to feel scared of a lump of tea leaves away from the dim red light and befuddling perfume of Professor Trelawney's classroom. Not everyone was convinced, however. Ron still looked worried, and Lavender whispered, “But what about Neville's cup?”
When the Transfiguration class had finished, they joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.
“Ron, cheer up,” said Hermione, pushing a dish of stew toward him. “You heard what Professor McGonagall said.”
Ron spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start.
“Harry,” he said, in a low, serious voice, “You haven't seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?”
“Yeah, I have,” said Harry. “I saw one the night I left the Dursleys'.”
Ron let his fork fall with a clatter.
“Probably a stray,” said Hermione calmly.
Ron looked at Hermione as though she had gone mad.
“Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's — that's bad,” he said. “My — my uncle Bilius saw one and — and he died twenty-four hours later!”
“Coincidence,” said Hermione airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.
“You don't know what you're talking about!” said Ron, starting to get angry. “Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!”
“There you are, then,” said Hermione in a superior tone. “They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!”
Ron mouthed wordlessly at Hermione, who opened her bag, took out her new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug.
“I think Divination seems very woolly,” she said, searching for her page. “A lot of guesswork, if you ask me.”
“There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!” said Ron hotly.
“You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep,” said Hermione coolly.
“Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!”
He had touched a nerve. Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere.
“If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!”
She snatched up her bag and stalked away.
Ron frowned after her.
“What's she talking about?” he said to Harry. “She hasn't been to an Arithmancy class yet.”
　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*
Harry was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday' the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.
Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other. Harry walked beside them in silence as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when he spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that he realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Malfoy was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. Harry was quite sure he knew what they were talking about.
Hagrid was waiting for his class at the door of his hut. He stood in his moleskin overcoat, with Fang the boarhound at his heels, looking impatient to start.
“C'mon, now, get a move on!” he called as the class approached. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin’ up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!”
For one nasty moment, Harry thought that Hagrid was going to lead
Harry had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last him a lifetime. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.
“Everyone gather ‘round the fence here!” he called. “That's it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books —”
“How?” said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.
“Eh?” said Hagrid.
“How do we open our books?” Malfoy repeated. He took out his copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which he had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people some, like Harry, had be others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.
“Hasn’ — hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books?” said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.
The class all shook their heads.
“Yeh've got ter stroke ‘em,” said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Look —”
He took Hermione's copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in his hand.
“Oh, how silly we've all been!” Malfoy sneered. “We should have stroked them! Why didn't we guess!”
“I — I thought they were funny,” Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermione.
“Oh, tremendously funny!” said Malfoy. “Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Harry quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and Harry wanted Hagrid's first lesson to be a success.
“Righ’ then,” said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost his thread, “so — so yeh've got yer books an'…an'…now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I'll go an’ get ‘em. Hang on…”
He strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.
“God, this place is going to the dogs,” said Malfoy loudly. “That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him —”
“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry repeated.
“Careful, Potter, there's a Dementor behind you —”
“Oooooooh!” squealed Lavender Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.
Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harry had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.
“Gee up, there!” he roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.
“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. “Beau'iful, aren’ they?”
Harry could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs’ gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.
“So,” said Hagrid, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, “if yeh wan’ ter come a bit nearer…”
No one seemed to want to. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, approached the fence cautiously.
“Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ Hippogriffs is, they're proud,” said Hagrid. “Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle weren' they were talking in an undertone and Harry had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.
“Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs’ move,” Hagrid continued. “It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away from him sharpish, ‘cause those talons hurt.”
“Right — who wants ter go first?”
Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had misgivings. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing
they didn't seem to like being tethered like this.
“No one?” said Hagrid, with a pleading look.
“I'll do it,” said Harry.
There was an intake of breath from behind him, and both Lavender and Parvati whispered, “Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!”
Harry ignored them. He climbed over the paddock fence.
“Good man, Harry!” roared Hagrid. “Right then — let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.”
He untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Malfoy's eyes were narrowed maliciously.
“Easy now, Harry,” said Hagrid quietly. “Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink…Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much…”
Harry's eyes immediately began to water, but he didn't shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harry with one fierce orange eye. “Tha's it,” said Hagrid. “Tha's it, Harry…now, bow.”
Harry didn't feel much like exposing the back of his neck to Buckbeak, but he did as he was told. He gave a short bow and then looked up.
The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at him. It didn't move.
“Ah,” said Hagrid, sounding worried. “Right — back away, now, Harry, easy does it —”
But then, to Harry's enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was
an unmistakable bow.
“Well done, Harry!” said Hagrid, ecstatic. “Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!”
Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harry moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. He patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.
The class broke into applause, all except for Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.
“Righ’ then, Harry,” said Hagrid. “I reckon he migh’ let yeh ride him!”
This was more than Harry had bargained for. He was
but he wasn't sure a Hippogriff would be quite the same.
“Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint,” said Hagrid, “an’ mind yeh don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that…”
Harry put his foot on the top of Buckbeak's wing and hoisted himself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. Harry wasn't s everything in front of him was covered with feathers.
“Go on, then!” roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.
Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harry, he just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before he was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harry knew wh the Hippogriff's wings beat uncomfortably on either side of him, catching him under his legs and making him feel he was ab the glossy feathers slipped under his fingers and he didn't dare instead of the smooth action of his Nimbus Two Thousand, he now felt himself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the Hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.
Buckbeak flew him once around the paddock and then heade this was the bit Har he leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling he was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. He just managed to hold on and push himself straight again.
“Good work, Harry!” roared Hagrid as everyone except Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. “Okay, who else wants a go?”
Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees. Ron and Hermione practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Malfoy, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.
“This is very easy,” Malfoy drawled, loud enough for Harry to, hear him. “I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it…I bet you're not dangerous at all, are you?” he said to the Hippogriff. “Are you, you great ugly brute?”
It happened in a fl Malfoy let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.
“I'm dying!” Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. “I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!”
“Yer not dyin'!” said Hagrid, who had gone very white. “Someone help me — gotta get him outta here —”
Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. As they passed, Harry saw that there was a long, deep gash on Malfoy' blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with him, up the slope toward the castle.
Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.
“They should sack him straight away!” said Pansy Parkinson, who was in tears.
“It was Malfoy's fault!” snapped Dean Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.
They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.
“I'm going to see if he's okay!” said Pansy, and they all watched her run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their Harry, Ron, and Hermione proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.
“You think he'll be all right?” said Hermione nervously.
“Course he will. Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second,” said Harry, who had had far worse injuries mended magically by the nurse.
“That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid's first class, though, wasn't it?” said Ron, looking worried. “Trust Malfoy to mess things up for him…”
They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but he wasn't there.
“They wouldn't fire him, would they?” said Hermione anxiously, not touching her steak-and-kidney pudding.
“They'd better not,” said Ron, who wasn't eating either.
Harry was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Harry was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Malfoy had been injured.
“Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back,” said Ron gloomily.
They went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, but all three of them kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window.
“There's a light on in Hagrid's window,” Harry said suddenly.
Ron looked at his watch.
“If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early…”
“I don't know,” Hermione said slowly, and Harry saw her glance at him.
“I'm allowed to walk across the grounds,” he said pointedly. “Sirius Black hasn't got past the Dementors yet, has he?”
So they put their things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on their way to the front doors, as they weren't entirely sure they were supposed to be out.
The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When they reached Hagrid's hut, they knocked, and a voice growled, “C'min.”
Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his s his boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. One look told them that Hagrid had there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting them into focus.
“‘Spect it's a record,” he said thickly, when he recognized them. “Don’ reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before.”
“You haven't been fired, Hagrid!” gasped Hermione.
“Not yet,” said Hagrid miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. “But's only a matter o’ time, I'n't, after Malfoy…”
“How is he?” said Ron as they all sat down. “It wasn't serious, was it?”
“Madam Pomfrey fixed him best she could,” said Hagrid dully, “but he's sayin’ it's still agony…covered in bandages…moanin'…”
“He's faking it,” said Harry at once. “Madam Pomfrey can mend anything. She regrew half my bones last year. Trust Malfoy to milk it for all it's worth.”
“School gov'nors have bin told, o’ course,” said Hagrid miserably. “They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left Hippogriffs fer later…one flobberworms or summat…Jus’ thought it'd make a good firs’ lesson's all my fault…”
“It's all Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!” said Hermione earnestly.
“We're witnesses,” said Harry. “You said Hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened.”
“Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up,” said Ron.
Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's beetle-black eyes. He grabbed both Harry and Ron and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug.
“I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid,” said Hermione firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.
“Ah, maybe she's right,” said Hagrid, letting go of Harry and Ron, who both staggered away, rubbing their ribs. Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and followed Hermione unsteadily outside. They heard a loud splash.
“What's he done?” said Harry nervously as Hermione came back in with the empty tankard.
“Stuck his head in the water barrel,” said Hermione, putting the tankard away.
Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.
“That's better,” he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching them all. “Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an’ see me, I really —”
Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Harry as though he'd only just realized he was there.
“WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN', EH?” he roared, so suddenly that they jumped a foot in the air. “YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN’ AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN, YOU TWO! LETTIN’ HIM!”
Hagrid strode over to Harry, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to the door.
“C'mon!” Hagrid said angrily. “I'm takin’ yer all back up ter school an’ don’ let me catch yeh walkin’ down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!”
当哈利、罗恩和荷米恩进入大厅吃早餐时，他们最先看见的是马尔夫，他好像在讲一个有趣的故事来逗着史林德林的一群学生。他们经过的时候，马尔夫荒谬地吐吐气，随着一阵大笑响起来。
　　“不要管他。”荷米恩正站在哈利右边对他说，“不要管他，他不值得……”
　　“喂，波特。”班茜。帕金森尖声叫了一声。她是史林德林的女生，有一张像哈巴狗的脸。“波特，得蒙特来了，波特，呜呜呜……”
　　哈利在乔治旁的格林芬顿桌旁坐下来。
　　“这是新的三年级时间表。”乔治递了张表过来说。“你怎么样了，哈利？”
　　“是马尔夫。”罗恩坐在乔治的另一旁，瞪着史林德林那边的桌子说。
　　乔治刚抬起头，看到马尔夫假装太恐慌而昏倒的姿势。
　　“那个混蛋。”他冷静地说，“得蒙特往火车走过去的时候，他没有这么威武的。他还逃到我们那车厢来，弗来德，不是吗？”
　　“他自己都差点昏倒了。”弗来德轻蔑地扫了马尔夫一眼说。
　　“我自己也不好过，”乔治说，“他们的确很恐怖，那些得蒙特。”
　　“好像要冰结你的内脏一样，是吗？”弗来德问。
　　“但你没有昏倒是吗？”哈利低声问。
　　“算了吧，哈利。”乔治清爽地说，“爸爸去过阿兹克班一次了，记得吗，弗来德？他说那是他这辈子去过的最恐怖的地方。他回来时一直地颤抖……得蒙特把人们的快乐都吸走了。那里大多数的罪犯都疯了。”
　　“无论如何，我们看第一场快迪斯比赛后，马尔夫还高不高兴得起来。”弗来德说，“格林芬顿对史林德林，这季度的第一场比赛，记得吗？”
　　哈利不得不面对马尔夫的唯一时刻是在快迪斯比赛中。马尔夫当然没他打得那么好。哈利觉得有点高兴了，他把香肠和炸香菇放到嘴里。
　　荷米恩正在查她的时间表。
　　“哦，太好了，我们今天开始学新科目了。”她高兴地说。
　　“荷米恩，”罗恩穿过她肩膀时皱着眉头说，“他们已经打乱你的时间表了，看——他们一天给你安排十节课，你不够时间的。”
　　“我会尽力做好的。我已经跟麦康娜教授商量好了。”
　　“但是，看。”罗恩笑笑说，“看到今天早上了吗？九点，变形课。
　　再看下面，九点，马格学，还有——“罗思向时间表靠得更近，不相信地说：“
　　看——下面那里，占卜术，九点钟，我说，你是厉害，但是没有人可以那样厉害的，你怎么可以在同一时间内上三节课呢？“
　　“别傻了。”荷米恩简短地说，“我当然不能同时上三节课。”
　　“好了，那么——”
　　“请帮我把果酱拿来。”荷米恩说。
　　“但是——”
　　“哦，罗恩，我的时间表满一点跟你有什么关系？”荷米恩不满地说，“我告诉你，我已经跟麦康娜商量好了。”
　　这时候，哈格力进人大厅了。他穿着他那长长的斜纹棉布大衣，心不在焉地用手摇摆着一只死猫。
　　“好吧？”他在向职工桌子走去的路上停了下来，热切地问，“这个下午我要上我的第一节课了。我五点就起来把东西准备好了，我希望做好一点，老实说……
　　做老师……“
　　他欢笑着向职工桌子那边走去，仍然摇摆着那臭猫。
　　“我真不知道他准备了些什么。”罗恩说，声音中带着焦虑。
　　人们开始去上第一节课时，大厅显得有点空。罗恩看看他的时间表。
　　“我们最好走了，看，占卜术就在北塔上，走到那里要十分钟。”
　　他们迅速把早点吃完，跟乔治和弗来德说再见并走出大厅。当他们经过史林德林桌子时，马尔夫又装出要昏倒的姿势。一阵大笑伴着哈利走进大堂。
　　到北塔的路程很长，在霍格瓦彻呆了两年，他们还未完全熟识这城堡，他们也从未去过北塔。
　　“一定要缩短路程。”罗恩喘着气说，这时他们转到了第七段楼梯，出现在一个陌生的楼梯口前。那里墙上只有一幅画着一望无际的草原的画。
　　“我想是这条路了。”荷米恩说着，头向右转，看看那空的走廊。
　　“不可能。”罗恩说，“那是南边，看从窗口可以看到河的一角……”
　　哈利看那墙上的画。一只胖胖的有斑点的灰毛马在草原上漫步，眼睛漫无目的地看看周围。哈利看惯霍格瓦彻的画，主题都是四处移动，留下框架来互访别人的人物画。一会儿后，一个矮的骑士穿着一身盔甲铿锵地走出来去追赶那匹小马。但看他膝盖盔甲上的草污点，就可以知道他刚从马上摔下来。
　　“哇！”他见到罗恩、哈利和荷米恩时大喊，“你们这家伙竟敢踏进我的私人地域？见到我摔倒就取笑？你们这帮流氓，这帮狗。滚！”
　　他们看到这小骑士从剑鞘里拔出剑来，都吓呆了，他开始舞动那剑，发狂地跳上跳下。但是剑对他来说太长了，尤其风一吹他就失去平衡，便一头栽倒在草地上。
　　“你没事吧？”哈利走近图画问。
　　“滚开，你们这些可都是吹牛者！无赖，走！”
　　那骑上又拿起剑，尽力站起来，但是剑端陷入草地里，他拔不出来。最后，他又笨重地倒在地上。他拿开面具来擦汗。
　　“你听着。”哈利利用骑士筋疲力尽的时候，“我们在找北塔，我们不知道怎么去，你知道吗？”
　　“那可是长征。”骑士的愤怒好像立即消失了。他的脚叮当一声站起来，然后大声说：“亲爱的朋友，跟我来吧，我们会到达目标的，要不就会勇敢地死去。”
　　他又徒劳地挥动着剑，努力骑到那胖木马的背上，但失败了，他大声喊：“我们走吧，亲爱的先生女士们，我们出发了。”
　　然后他铿钻响地走着，转入左手边的框架里，消失了。
　　他们紧跟着他走进走廊，靠听着他盔甲的声音跟着，时不时地看到他在前面的画里面跑着。
　　“勇敢一点，最困难的还未到。”那骑士大喊，他们又看见他出现在一群穿着带裙的女人前，她们的画就挂在狭窄楼梯的墙上。
　　哈利大声地喘着气，荷米恩和罗恩紧紧地在盘旋阶梯上爬，觉得越来越头晕，直到他们听到上面有人说话的声音才知道他们到达课室了。
　　“再会了。”那个骑士说着，把头撞过画着罪恶的和尚的画里面。
　　“再会了，我的朋友，如果你们成为崇高的强健的精英就来找我卡得格爵士吧。”
　　“好的，我们会找你的。”罗恩咕噜地说，看到那骑士消失时又说，“如果我们需要铁木头的话。”
　　他们爬上最后几级，便出现在一个小楼梯口前，在那里大多数学生已经集中了。
　　这楼梯平台没有门的，罗恩用手肘推推哈利并指向那天花板，上面有一道门，门上有一块铜的扁牌。
　　“特雷络尼，占卜术的老师。”哈利读出来，“我们怎样上去呢？”
　　好像在回答哈利一样，那道门突然开了，一架银梯从长面伸到哈利的脚前。每个人都安静地上去。
　　“我跟着你。”罗恩笑着说，因而哈利首先爬上那梯子。
　　一个从没见过的奇怪的课室里出现了。实际上，这一点都不像教室。这更像人家的楼阁和旧式的茶店，最少有二十张小小的圆桌子拥挤地放在里面，桌旁都摆着小小的扶手椅子，椅子上有小小的厚圆椅垫，所有的东西都被阴暗的绯红的灯光笼罩住。窗口的窗帘都放了下来，很多台灯都用深红的围巾盖着。火苗在拥挤的壁炉架上高兴地跳动着。在往一个铜壶加热时，一种很浓、让人作呕的香水味散发出来。
　　圆形的墙旁边的栏杆挂满了羽毛，蜡烛的残根，很多包装的破布，数不清的晶莹球，还有一列列的荣杯。
　　哈利·波特走进教室集中时，听到很细小的说话声。
　　“她在哪？”罗恩问。
　　一个声音突然从阴影中传出来，那是亲切模糊的声音。
　　“欢迎。”她说，“很高兴终于在这物理世界见到你们。”
　　特雷络尼教授走进灯光下，他们看到她很瘦，她的大眼镜把她的眼睛放大成原来的几倍，她披着一件很薄的闪闪发光的披肩，数不清的项链和首饰挂在她瘦长的颈上，她的手臂戴满了手环，手上也戴满了戒指。
　　“坐吧，我的孩子，坐。”她说，他们都笨拙地坐在扶手椅子上，挨着软绵绵的垫子，哈利、罗恩和荷米恩都在同一桌子旁的椅子上坐下来了。“欢迎来学占卜学。”特雷络尼教授说，她在火炉前那雕有翅膀的椅子上坐下来，“我叫特雷络尼教授，我认为经常下去那吵吵闹闹的校园，那种气氛会模糊了我心灵和眼。”
　　没有对她这种特别的声明说些什么，特雷络尼故意整顿一下她的披肩又继续说，“既然你们都选择学占卜学，这可是魔法界中最难的一门，我一定要告诫你们，如果你们没有眼界的话，我不能教到你些什么的，书只能带你们在这领域中走这么远……”
　　听到这些话，哈利和罗恩相视一笑。荷米恩看上去很吃惊，这些书竟然在这里没有什么用。
　　“很多巫师和巫婆虽然很有才能。但他们却不能揭穿未来的面纱。”特雷络尼教授继续说，她那奇怪发亮的眼睛在一张张紧张的脸上妇来扫去。“很少人有这种天分。你，孩子。”她突然对尼维尔说，“你奶奶还好吗？”
　　“还好。”尼维尔战栗地说。
　　“亲爱的，如果我是你的话就不会那么肯定了。”特雷络尼教授说，灯光在她长长的翡翠耳环中闪着，尼维尔吞了口气。特雷络尼教授平静地继续说，“我们这年会学占卜术的基本方法，第一学期我们学读茶叶，第二学期我们开始学手相术。
　　还有顺便说一下，我亲爱的。“她突然盯着帕维提。帕提，”小心一个红头发的男人。“
　　帕维提吃惊地看了一下罗恩，他坐在地旁边，她立即搬着凳子远离他。
　　“在这学期，”特雷络尼教授继续说，“我们开始学水晶球——当然以我们学完火红预兆为前提，那就是，很不幸，课程会被二月份那糟糕的流感打断的。我也会失去声音。大概在复活节左右，我们当中有一个会永远离开我们。”
　　跟着她这段话的是紧张的沉默。但是特雷络尼教授好像没注意到。
　　“亲爱的，我在想，”她对离她桌子最近的并向后缩的拉温德。布朗说，“你是否可以帮我把那最大的银茶壶递给我？”
　　拉温德放松了一点，他站起来从架子上拿起一个特大茶壶，并把它放在特雷络尼教授前的桌子上。
　　“谢谢你，亲爱的，很意外的，你最讨厌的事会发生在十月十六日，星期五。”
　　拉温德颤抖了一下。
　　“现在，我要把你们分成一对一对的。拿起架上的茶杯，跟我来，我会倒满它。
　　然后坐下来喝，直到只剩下残渣，用左手在茶杯内擦三下，然后把茶杯倒放在碟子上，等着最后一滴茶流走，就拿茶杯跟你的同伴交换来看。你可以看看《光明的将来》的第五页和第六页的章节来解释你所看到的。我会在你们周围巡察帮助和指导你们，哦，亲爱的——“她抓住尼维尔的手臂让他站起来。”你打破第一只杯子后，你可以挑一只青色的杯吗？我挺喜欢粉红色的。“
　　果然，尼维尔刚伸手到架子上拿杯子就传来打碎玻璃的声音。
　　特雷络尼教授走过去，手拿着刷子和垃圾箱对他说，“拿一个青色的，亲爱的，你不介意的话……谢谢……”
　　当哈利和罗恩把茶杯装了茶后，他们走回他们的桌子大口大口地喝烫口的荣，喝完后用手擦着茶杯的残渣，正如特雷络尼教授所教的一样，然后等茶留干了，交换茶杯观察。
　　“对了。”罗恩说，他们都打开书的第五和第六页，“你在我的茶杯看到什么？”
　　“是褐色的已烧透的东西。”哈利说，浓浓的香水味让他觉得又迟钝又困。
　　“放宽思维，亲爱的同学们，让你们的眼睛看穿世俗的东西。”特雷络尼教授忧郁地喊道。
　　哈利努力地提起神。
　　“对了，你这有一个摇晃的十字架……”他参看一下《光明的将来》说，“那意味着你会遇到审判和痛苦——那很难过——但是事情会好起来的。等等……那意味着‘很幸福’……因此，你会受到折磨的然后会很幸福的……”
　　“我要说你需要进行一个心灵之眼的测试。”罗恩说，特雷络尼教授向他们看过来时，他们立即止住笑。“轮到我了……”罗恩看看哈利的杯子，他的额头努力地皱起来，“有一个像板球投手的帽子一样的斑点，”他说，“可能是你将会在魔法部那里工作……”
　　他把杯子翻了翻。
　　“这样看像是一个椰子……那是什么？”他在《光明的将来》里看了看说，“‘有意外的收获，出乎意料的金子’，太好了，你可以借点给我花，这还有一点东西，”他把杯子又转了转，“那看上去像一只动物，对了那是它的头，……看起来像一只河马，不，一只羊……”
　　正当哈利大声笑的时候，特雷络尼教授转到这边来。
　　“亲爱的，让我看看，”她挑剔地对罗恩说。看着便把哈利的茶杯抢过去。每个人都静下来看着。
　　特雷络尼教授盯着哈利的茶杯，逆时针地转动着它。
　　“猎鹰……天呀，你有一个很致命的敌人。”
　　“但是大家都知道那个了，”荷米恩说，“谁都知道哈利的事和‘那个人’！”
　　哈利和罗恩混和着趣味和钦佩地望着她。他们从来没有见过荷术思那样跟老师说话。特雷络尼教授没有回答她，她反而用大大的眼睛靠近哈利的杯子继续转动它。
　　“黑梅花……一个袭击，天啊，这可不是一个快乐的杯子……”
　　“我还以为是板球投手的帽子呢！”罗恩困倦地说。
　　“头盖骨……你的前方会有危险，亲爱的……”
　　每个人都睁着眼盯着特雷络尼教授，最后她再转着林子，喘着气，然后尖叫起来。
　　又传来了叮当一声打破杯子，尼维尔第二次打破了杯子。特雷络尼教授坐到一张空的扶手椅上，她发亮的手捂着心脏，眼睛闭上。
　　“我亲爱的孩子——可怜的孩子——不——不告诉你好一点——不——不要问我……”
　　“教授，那是什么呀？”汤姆斯问，每个人都站起来了，慢慢地围着哈利和罗恩的桌子，压向特雷络尼教授的椅子去看那哈利的杯子。
　　“天啊，”特雷络尼教授的大眼睛戏剧般睁开说，“你要面对狰狞的东西。”
　　“什么？”哈利问。
　　他敢说他不是唯—一个不明白的。汤姆斯耸耸肩，但大多数人用手捂着口。
　　“狰狞的，亲爱的，是格拉菲。”特雷络尼教授大喊，她很惊诧哈利怎么会不懂，“是巨大的，幽灵般的狗整天在教会墓地出现的，我亲爱的孩子，这是预兆，是坏的预兆——死亡。”
　　哈利的胃紧紧收缩一下，弗维里斯和巴洛特斯书店里那本《死亡预兆》封面上那条狗，还有在马克来里新月街上的狗的影子……拉温德。布朗用手拍拍口，大家都看着哈利，除了荷米恩，她站起来走到特雷络尼教授的椅子后面。
　　“我认为他不像格拉菲。”她平静地说。
　　特雷络尼教授很不喜欢地看着荷米恩。
　　“亲爱的，请原谅我这么说，我不大接受你这种香味。对你对将来的看法也没多大的共鸣。”
　　谢默斯仰着头看看这个又看看那个。
　　“如果这样看就像一个格拉菲，”他几乎闭着眼睛说，“但如果你这样看就像一只驴。”他靠向左边说。
　　“那你们就可以决定我是否快要死了？”哈利自己也很奇怪地说，好像没有想再看它一眼。
　　“我想我们今天的课就上到这里吧，”特雷络尼教授朦朦胧胧地说，“是的，收拾你们的东西吧。”
　　静静地，同学们把茶杯放回特雷络尼教授的架子上，把书都收起来放回书包里。
　　“再见，”特雷络尼教授微微地说，“命运掌握在你手中，哦，亲爱的——”
　　她指着尼维尔说，“你下节课迟到了，你可要努力跟上。”
　　哈利、罗恩和荷米思沉默地从特雷络尼教授的梯子下来到阶梯前。他们又得赶去上麦康娜的变形课，他们匆匆忙忙离开占卜课室，因为要很长时间他们才能找到课室。
　　哈利挑最后一张凳子坐下来，但其他同学总是偷偷地回过头看他，好像他随时都会死掉一样。他几乎没有听到麦康娜教授所讲的能够随意变成动物的巫师，甚至对她在众人面前变成一只双眼周围有条纹的虎斑猫这一举动看都不看。
　　“说真的，你今天怎么啦？”麦康娜教授说，她砰的一声变回原形，然后望着大家。“这可是我第一次在班里变形没有赢得掌声。”
　　全班学生又向哈利看了看，但没有人说话，荷米恩抬起她的手。
　　“教授，我们刚刚上完第一节占卜课，我们都在读茶叶，所以……”
　　“哦，当然，”麦康娜教授突然皱着眉头说，“格林佐小姐，不用说了。告诉我，你们中谁会在今年死去？”
　　所有的人都望着她。
　　“我。”坐在最后面的哈利说。
　　“我明白了，”麦康娜教授用珠子似的眼睛看着哈利，“那么你应该知道，特雷络尼自从进入这学校后每年都预测有一个学生在一年内死去的。但到目前为止还没有人死。可以看出对死亡的预兆是她最喜欢的用来吸引新生方法。如果不是因为我从不说我同事的坏话的话——”麦康娜停顿下来，大家都看见她的鼻子变白了。
　　她更加镇静地继续说，“占卜学是魔法界最不严密的一个分支。真正的先知是很少的，并且特雷络尼教授……”
　　她又停下来，然后又用事实性的语调说，“我看你还很健康，波特，所以请原谅我今天还是要你做功课。我向你保证，如果你就要死的话，我就不用你交功课了。”
　　荷米恩笑了。哈利觉得好一点了。现在想起那昏暗的红灯下的茶叶，还有特雷络尼教授身上让人头昏的香味，哈利不觉得害怕了。
　　但是还有很多人相信她说的话，荷米恩看上去仍然很担心，拉温德低声说，“但是尼维尔打破杯的事？”
　　当变形术课结束后，他们涌入人群向大厅去吃午餐。
　　“罗恩，振奋点，”荷米恩把一碗炖汤推给他说，“你听麦康娜教授说了吧？”
　　罗恩舀取汤放到他的碗里，拿起叉子但没开始吃。
　　“哈利，”他说，声音很低很严肃，“你没有在那里见到过那大黑狗吧，对吗？”
　　“是的，我见过了。”哈利说，“我离开德斯里家那晚见过了。”
　　罗恩手中的刀叉当的一声掉下来。
　　“很可能是一只家畜。”荷米恩镇静地说。
　　罗恩看看荷米恩，他觉得她像疯子。
　　“荷米恩，如果哈利真的看见一只格拉菲……”
　　荷米恩高傲地说。“格拉菲不是死的预兆而是把死亡引走，而哈利仍然跟我们在一起是因为他不是那么笨，看见一只格拉菲就想到死亡。”
　　“那就是——就是了。”罗恩说，“我——我姨丈比里斯看见过一次——然后二十四小时就死了。”
　　“那是巧合，”荷米恩轻松地边说边给自己倒了一些南瓜汁。“格拉菲在大白天已经吓死过很多巫师了。”
　　“你根本就不知道自己在说什么。”罗恩说，他开始生气了。
　　罗恩张开口看着荷米恩，她打开书包，拿出她的数字占卜法课本，背着果汁壶翻开书。
　　“我认为占卜学很模糊不清，”她说着在书上找着，“我看这有很多都是臆猜的。”
　　“但是格拉菲和那茶杯就没有什么模糊不清了。”罗恩辣辣地说。
　　“你看上去并不自信，当你告诉哈利那是一只羊的时候。”荷米恩冷冷地说。
　　“特雷络尼教授说你没有正确的预测，你根本就没有接受这改变。”罗恩很过火地说，荷米恩狠狠合上数字占卜法书，桌子颤动一下，桌上有些肉和萝卜四处飞起来了。
　　“如果学好占卜学意味着我要在一堆茶叶中假装看到死亡预兆的话，我肯定我不会学下去的，那课对比起我的数字占卜学简直就是垃圾