时间：02-18 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：1569
"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"
"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic."
"Don't mind Hermione, Lavender," said Ron loudly, "she doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."
"Well," said Harry. "'Bye then!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, You mark my words."
Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.
Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for him.
"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."
"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old houseelf "
"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.
"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course," said Hagrid miseribly. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later... done flobberworms or summat.... Jus' thought itdmake a good firs' lessons all my fault...."
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.
"But then, why would you dread him dying?" said Hermione.
"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"
"Go away, Ginny," said Ron.