时间：02-25 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：1101
And then there were the dementors. Harry felt sick and humiliated every time he thought of them. Everyone said the dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.
"You're winding me up," said Harry, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.
I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. I never wear those socks if I can help it....
"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year. "He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.
The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed.
"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked Hermione.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak -- Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
"You know what we've got to do," said Wood as they prepared to leave the locker rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. just -- just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"
A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"
Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.
Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.
No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harry like a stone.
"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"
Harry glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Both of them had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.
Harry and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, ,,her, there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.