时间：02-18 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2154
Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.
"Aragog!" it called. "Aragog!"
"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he said.
"To ask you how you died," said Harry.
Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying -- it had been years since he'd really cried -- but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.
They waited, shivering, hardly daring to move.
"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor Petrified people's mouths will be It was Hagrid.' Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."
"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."
"The diary," said Riddle. `My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes - how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with secondhand robes and books, how" -Riddle's eyes glinted "how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her . . . ."
But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.
Ron woke with a yelp like Fang's, stared wildly around, and saw Harry.
Harry swung his legs up onto his bed and leaned back against his pillows, watching the moon glinting at him through the tower window.
Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.
"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"
"Pass me those rolls, Harry, I'm starving."
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.
Professor Sprout set them all to work pruning the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Harry went to tip an armful of withered stalks onto the compost heap and found himself face-to-face with Ernie Macmillan. Ernie took a deep breath and said, very formally, "I just want to say, Harry, that I'm sorry I ever suspected you. I know you'd never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We're all in the same boat now, and, well -",