时间：02-25 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：7356
All in all, the atmosphere was not very friendly as they took their departure. Mrs.
But far from being reassured, the Dursleys became more panic- stricken; Aunt Petunia was sobbing hysterically, tugging Dudley's tongue as though determined to rip it out; Dudley appeared to be suffocating under the combined pressure of his mother and his tongue; and Uncle Vernon, who had lost control completely, seized a china figure from on top of the sideboard and threw it very hard at Mr. Weasley, who ducked, causing the ornament to shatter in the blasted fireplace.
Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again.
The atmosphere inside number four, Privet Drive was extremely tense. The imminent arrival at their house of an assortment of wizards was making the Dursleys uptight and irritable.
Two hundred miles away, the boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.
She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again.
"We'll get it," said Fred at once. Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. They knew where Harry's bedroom was, having once rescued him from it in the dead of night.
He pushed his undrunk tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.
No, the thing that was bothering Harry was the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been because Voldemort had been close by...But Voldemort couldn't be here, now...The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible...
But they were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.
"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily.
"And have you heard from -?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent.
"I always thought that he had a nasty look about him, right enough," grunted a man at the bar.
Harry saw his lips form the words "send us your answer ... in the normal way." He scowled.
They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop.
The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley's party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here, and Harry, filing into the front seats with the Weasleys, looked down upon a scene the likes of which he could never have imagined.
Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like - someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience with Dark Magic....