时间：02-21 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2192
"Who knows? He must've upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean."
"I think he just wanted to get out of there, Harry," said Hermione.
"You were both there too, were you?" said Slughorn with great interest, looking from Ginny to Neville, but both of them sat clam-like before his encouraging smile.
"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."
"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them," she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville's bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now wearing her free Spectrespecs, which gave her the look of a demented, multicolored owl.
"We discuss our options with our Head of House, I asked Professor McGonagall at the end of last term."
"Mr. Weasley, can I have a quick word?" said Harry, making up his mind on the spur of the moment.
She leapt to her feet.
"Really?" said Harry, taking care not to catch Ron's eye; the last time he had met Hagrid's half-brother, a vicious giant with a talent for ripping up trees by the roots, his vocabulary had comprised five words, two of which he was unable to pronounce properly.
"Hang on," said Harry, as another part of last night's conversation came back to him. "I think Dumbledore said our OWL results would be arriving today!"
"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"
“You'd better put that cloak back on, and we can walk up to the school," said Tonks, still unsmiling. As Harry swung the cloak back over himself, she waved her wand; an immense silvery four-legged creature erupted from it and streaked off into the darkness.
"Wrackspurt got you?" asked Luna sympathetically, peering at Harry through her enormous colored spectacles.
People stared shamelessly as he approached. They even pressed their faces against the windows of their compartments to get a look at him. He had expected an upswing in the amount of gaping and gawping he would have to endure this term after all the "Chosen One" rumors in the Daily Prophet, but he did not enjoy the sensation of standing in a very bright spotlight. He tapped Ginny on the shoulder.
"Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you're too immature to come with us!" said Mrs. Weasley angrily, snatching up her clock, all nine hands of which were still pointing at "mortal peril," and balancing it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels. "And that goes for returning to Hogwarts as well!";