时间：02-24 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：1160
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"
"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.
The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely.
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but --
"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"
Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.
Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. Harry, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, stared at it.
"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute -- in case you get too near a dementor."
Hermione's spell had done the trick. Harry was still numb with cold, still wetter than he'd ever been in his life, but he could see. Full of fresh determination, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Diggory, who was streaking in the opposite direction....
Lupin looked paler than usual. ,
Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.
"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"
"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."
"Don't tell me --" said Harry, starting to grin.
"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath, the mud. "How're you feeling?"
January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harry still hadn't ordered a new broom. He was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ron standing hopefully at his shoulder, Hermione rushing past with her face averted.,