时间：02-26 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：1046
The frosty grass crunched underfoot as they strode down to the stadium.
"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face them both.
Ron turned a little pink, but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts. "Mind your own business."
"Scrimgeour wanted to know where you go when you're not at Hogwarts," said Harry, still looking fixedly at his knees.
"Well . . . there is the possibility it was an empty threat." "You're unbelievable, you are," said Harry, shaking his head.
"No, I can't," she answered slowly.
"A what?" shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. "A what, exactly?" "He doesn't mean anything, Ginny —" said Harry automati-cally, though the monster was roaring its approval of Ron's words. "Oh yes he does!" she said, flaring up at Harry. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel —"
Ron had just raised the glass to his lips when Hermione spoke
"Sorry about this," he said, jerking his head toward the wireless as Celestina broke into the chorus. "Be over soon."
"Same to you," said the fat lady with a roguish grin, and she swung forward to admit them.
"You'd better stop telling me to come to your office then!"
Hermione had left her stool and was halfway towards Siughorn's desk before the rest of the class had realised it was time to move, and by the time Harry, Ron and Ernie returned to the table, she had already tipped the contents of her phial into her cauldron and was kindling a fire underneath it.
"Well, of course, to you it will matter enormously," said Scrim-geour with a laugh. "But to the Wizarding community at large . . . it's all perception, isn't it? It's what people believe that's important."
And she hurried off, without ever giving Harry any time to offer words of comfort, though admittedly he could not think of any.
"I thought you said it didn't matter either way?" said Harry, with a bitter laugh. "Not to you anyway."
It took Harry only five minutes to realise that his reputa-tion as the best potion-maker in the class was crashing around his ears. Slughorn had peered hopefully into his cauldron on his first circuit of the dungeon, preparing to exclaim in delight as he usually did, and instead had with-drawn his head hastily, coughing, as the smell of bad eggs overwhelmed him. Hermione's expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight than any-thing else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.。