时间：02-27 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：3995
"She's fine!" Harry tried to tell her, but he was so exhausted he could hardly talk, let alone shout.
Harry let himself float back upward and broke the bubbly surface, shaking his hair out of his eyes.
Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.
"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Padma asked him.
"You want to try over there!" she said, pointing. "I won't come with you. ... I don't like them much, they always chase me when I get too close. ..."
"Who cares if Diggorys getting help?" said Ron. Harry privately agreed.
. you were thrown into this tournament, you didn't volunteer for it... and if. . ." (his voice was so quiet now, Harry had to lean closer to listen) "if I can help at all... a prod in the right direction . . . I've taken a liking to you . . . the way you got past that dragon! . . . well, just say the word."
Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."
"You just want to think Snapes up to something," said Hermione, sending her cushion zooming neatly into the box.
certainly talking now, and very enthusiastically at that.
"We've got to go and see him," said Harry. "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back . . . you do want him back?" he shot at Hermione.
There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, the others abandoned their snowball fight and trooped back to the common room. The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both of them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom other picture.
"Oh . . . um ... okay," said Hermione.
"Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's 'pine fresh.' Gotta go ... want to say good night -"
"Oooh, very good," she said, her thick glasses twinkling, "it took Diggory much longer than that! And that was with her awake too" - Myrtle jerked her head toward the mermaid with an expression of great dislike on her glum face - "giggling and showing off and flashing her fins.. .."
By the evening before the second task. Harry felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare. He was fully aware that even if, by some miracle, he managed to find a suitable spell, he'd have a real job mastering it overnight. How could he have let this happen? Why hadn't he got to work on the egg's clue sooner? Why had he ever let his mind wander in class - what if a teacher had once mentioned how to breathe underwater?（央视记者 徐海霞）