时间：02-28 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：5183
Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.
"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"
"Yes," said Harry. "Professor - I was in Divination just now, and - er - I fell asleep."
"Hello, Potter," growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.
"You two," counseled Moody, his normal eye on Ron and Hermione, "you stick close to Potter, all right? I'm keeping an eye on things, but all the same . . . you can never have too many eyes out."
"I don't want to see anything except a headache cure," said Harry.
The surface of the silvery stuff inside the basin began to swirl very fast.
"Hello, Sirius," said Harry when they had reached him.
Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair.
"You know - you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch's son? Well....were they talking about Neville's parents?"
It's just that Skeeter woman making things up."
"After the lesson," Snape snapped.
"D'you know Crouch, then?" said Harry.
Harry raised his right hand, hesitated, and then waved it energetically in from of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore did not blink, look around at Harry, or indeed move at all. And that, in Harry's opinion, settled the matter. Dumbledore wouldn't ignore him like that. He was inside a memory, and this was not the present-day Dumbledore. Yet it couldn't be that long ago . . . the Dumbledore sitting next to him now was silver-haired, just like the present-day Dumbledore. But what was this place? What were all these wizards waiting for?
"Well," said Sirius slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though . . . he's a different matter ... is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office?
Harry's nerves mounted as June the twenty-fourth drew closer, but they were not as bad as those he had felt before the first and second tasks. For one thing, he was confident that, this time, he had done everything in his power to prepare for the task. For another, this was the final hurdle, and however well or badly he did, the tournament would at last be over, which would be an enormous relief.