时间：02-17 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2737
"Hermione, will you shut up, you're not the only one who's nervous!" barked Ron. "And when you've got your eleven 'Outstanding Oils .. ."
The train was gathering speed.
They trudged up the dark, deserted lane, following the freshly made carriage tracks. Harry looked sideways at Tonks under his cloak. Last year she had been inquisitive (to the point of being a little annoying at times), she had laughed easily, she had made jokes. Now she seemed older and much more serious and purposeful. Was this all the effect of what had happened at the Ministry? He reflected uncomfortably that Hermione would have suggested he say something consoling about Sirius to her, that it hadn't been her fault at all, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was far from blaming her for Sirius's death; it was no more her fault than anyone else’s (and much less than his), but he did not like talking about Sirius if he could avoid it. And so they tramped on through the cold night in silence, Tonks's long cloak whispering on the ground behind them.
"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor." The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Snape, however , Ron, Dean, and Seam us grinned appreciatively.
"I'll see you two later," said Harry under his breath, pulling out his Invisibility Cloak and flinging it over himself.
“What happened to his hand?" gasped Hermione.
"Don't worry," said Ron, who was plainly trying not to laugh, "Mum'll fix that, she's good at healing minor injuries ?quot;
And he stamped, hard, on Harry's face. Harry felt his nose break; blood spurted everywhere.
"Of course you did," said Mr. Weasley, sounding resigned. "Well? Did you find out why?"
"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here . . ."
"It looks as if it's died," said Hermione, with a nauseated expression. "But there are some injuries you can't cure... old curses…and there are poisons without antidotes. . . ."
— safe in my hands."
"It's the password to get past the gargoyle outside his study," said Harry in a low voice. "Ha! Snape's not going to be pleased. . . . I won't be able to do his detention!"
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"No!" said Harry, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He did not care; he was staring up at the staff table, incensed. How could Snape be given the Defense Against the Dark Arts job after all this time? Hadn't it been widely known for years that Dumbledore did not trust him to do it?。