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手机注册送金

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"Exactly," said Wood. He was a tall and burly sixth year and, at the moment, his eyes were gleaming with a crazed enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go," said Wood heartily. "None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year -"

"So I can prove I've met you," said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging further forward. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead" (his eyes raked Harry's hairline) "and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move." Colin drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said, "It's amazing here, isn't it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you" - he looked imploringly at Harry - "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"

There was a scramble as everyone tried to seize a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy.

*101*

-so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."

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They had barely turned around, however, when a little man swooped suddenly from under the table and came to a halt in midair before them.

Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone fiIed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule. Professor Binns, who taught it, was their only ghost teacher, and the most exciting thing that ever happened in his classes was his entering the room through the blackboard. Ancient and shriveled, many people said he hadn't noticed he was dead. He had simply got up to teach one day and left his body behind him in an armchair in front of the staff room fire; his routine had not varied in the slightest since.

`jealous?"said Malfoy, who didn't need to shout anymore: half the courtyard was listening in. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself."

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

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Harry was relieved to hear the lunch bell. His brain felt like a wrung sponge. Everyone fiIed out of the classroom except him and Ron, who was whacking his wand furiously on the desk.

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"What are you talking about, Harry? Perhaps you're getting a litde drowsy? Great Scott - look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! Id never have believed it - the time's flown, hasn't it?"

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED -"

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"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few - ah - items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call ......",

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"Maybe he's left," said Ha-rry, "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!";

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