Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s stone Chapter15英2

孙祎卓

“No — no — not again, please—”
It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved closer.
“All right — all right — ” he heard Quirrell sob.
Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom straightening his turban. He was pale and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of sight; Harry didn't think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell's footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It was empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway toward it before he remembered what he'd promised himself about not meddling.
All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step — Quirrell seemed to have given in at last.
Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he'd heard.
“Snape's done it, then!” said Ron. “If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell—”
“There's still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione.
“Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?”
The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.
“Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure.”
“But we've got no proof!” said Harry. “Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor — who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining.”
Hermione looked convinced, but Ron didn't.
“If we just do a bit of poking around—”
“No,” said Harry flatly, “we've done enough poking around.”
He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.
The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:
Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight.
Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall.
Professor McGonagall
Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furor over the points they'd lost. He half expected Hermione to complain that this was a whole night of studying lost, but she didn't say a word. Like Harry, she felt they deserved what they'd got.
At eleven o'clock that night, they said good-bye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there — and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.
“Follow me,” said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.
“I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?” he said, leering at them. “Oh yes… hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me… It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out… hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep ‘em well oiled in case they're ever needed… Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do.”
They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn't be sounding so delighted.
The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.
“Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.”
Harry's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy — it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece.”
At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.