时间：02-28 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：9122
"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?"
"Everyone wears them, Ron!" said Mrs. Weasley crossly. "They're all like that! Your father's got some for smart parties!"
One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran's path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it - "TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"
There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel into his lap -Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy's eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, Harry returned to his porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn't even got his letter?
"What?" said Ron shortly.
"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly . "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"
"Excuse me?" said Mr. Diggory, incredulously.
"Veil, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.
Diggory reemerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms.
"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.
Ludo Bagman, and onto Mr. Crouch. Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir. .
Mr. Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched.
. . they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him. . . ."
"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"
"Do us a favor, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up."