《Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows》——哈利波特与死亡圣器（中英文对照）完结_English Corner

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Chapter 20 Xenophilius Lovegood
Harry had not expected Hermione’s anger to abate over night and was therefore unsurprised that she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally somber demeanor in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse. In fact, when all three of them were together Harry felt like the only non-mourner at a poorly attended funeral. During those few moments he spent alone with Harry, however (collecting water and searching the undergrowth for mushrooms). Ron became shamelessly cheery.
“Someone helped us,” he kept saying, “Someone sent that doe, Someone’s on our side, One Horcrux down, mate!”
Bolstered by the destruction of the locket they set to debating the possible locations of the other Horcruxes and even though they had discussed the matter so often before. Harry felt optimistic, certain that more breakthroughs would succeed the first. Hermione’s sulkiness could not mar his buoyant spirits; The sudden upswing in their fortunes, the appearance of the mysterious due, the recovery of Gryffindor’s sword, and above all, Ron’s return made Harry so happy that it was quite difficult to maintain a straight face.
Late in the afternoon he and Ron escaped Hermione’s baleful presence again and under the pretense of scouring the bare hedges for nonexistent blackberries, they continued their ongoing exchange of news. Harry had finally managed to tell Ron the whole story of his and Hermione’s various wanderings, right up to the full story of what had happened at Godric’s Hollow; Ron was now filling Harry in on everything he had discovered about the wider Wizarding world during his weeks away.
“… and how did you find out about the Taboo?” he asked Harry after explaining the many desperate attempts of Muggle-borns to evade the Ministry.
“The what?”
“You and Hermione have stopped saying You-Know-Who’s name!”
“Oh, yeah, Well, it’s just a bad habit we’ve slipped into,” said Harry. “But I haven’t got a problem calling him V –”
“NO!“ roared Ron, causing Harry to jump into the hedge and Hermione (nose buried in a book at the tent entrance) to scowl over at them. “Sorry,” said Ron, wrenching Harry back out of the brambles, “but the name’s been jinxed, Harry, that’s how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magical disturbance – it’s how they found us in Tottenham Court Road!”
“Because we used his *name*?”
“Exactly! You’ve got to give them credit, it makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who even dared use it. Now they’ve put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable – quick-and-easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley –“
“You’re kidding?”
“Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said but he fought his way out. He’s on the run now just like us.” Ron scratched his chin thoughtfully with the end of his wand. “You don’t reckon Kingsley could have sent that doe?”
“His Patronus is a lynx, we saw it at the wedding, remember?”
“Oh yeah…”
They moved farther along the hedge, away from the tent and Hermione.
“Harry… you don’t reckon it could’ve been Dumbledore?”
“Dumbledore what?”
Ron looked a little embarrassed, but said in a low voice, “Dumbledore… the doe? I mean,” Ron was watching Harry out of the corners of his eyes, “he had the real sword last, didn’t he?”
Harry did not laugh at Ron, because he understood too well the longing behind the question. The idea that Dumbledore had managed to come back to them, that he was watching over them, would have inexpressibly comforting. He shook his head.
“Dumbledore’s dead,” he said. “I saw it happen, I saw the body. He’s definitely gone. Anyway his Patronus was a phoenix, not a doe”
“Patronuses can change, though can’t they?” said Ron, “Tonks’s changed didn’t it?”
“Yeah, but if Dumbledore was alive, why wouldn’t he show himself? Why wouldn’t he just hand us the sword?“
“Search me,” said Ron. “Same reason he didn’t give it to you while he was alive? Same reason he left you an old Snitch and Hermione a book of kid’s stories?”
“Which is what?” asked Harry, turning to look Ron full in the face desperate for the answer.
“I dunno,“ said Ron. ”Sometimes I’ve thought, when I’ve been a bit hacked off, he was having a laugh or – or he just wanted to make it more difficult, But I don’t think so, not anymore. He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn’t he? He – well,“ Ron’s ears turned bright red and he became engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prodded with his toe, ”he must’ve known I’d run out on you.“
“No,” Harry corrected him. “He must’ve known you’d always want to come back.”
Ron looked grateful, but still awkward. Partly to change the subject, Harry said, “Speaking of Dumbledore, have you heard what Skeeter wrote about him?”
“Oh yeah,” said Ron at once, “people are talking about it quite a lot. ‘Course, if things were different it’d be huge news, Dumbledore being pals with Grindelwald, but now it’s just something to laugh about for people who didn’t like Dumbledore, and a bit of a slap in the face for everyone who thought he was such a good bloke. I don’t know that it’s such a big deal, though. He was really young when they –”
“Our age,” said Harry, just as he had retorted to Hermione, and something in his face seemed to decide Ron against pursuing the subject.
A large spider sat in the middle of a frosted web in the brambles. Harry took aim at it with the wand Ron had given him the previous night, which Hermione had since condescended to examine, and had decided was made of blackthorn.
“*Engorgio*”
The spider gave a little shiver, bouncing slightly in the web. Harry tried again. This time the spider grew slightly larger.
“Stop that,” said Ron sharply, “ I’m sorry I said Dumbledore was young, okay?”
Harry had forgotten Ron’s hatred of spiders.
“Sorry – *Reducio*”
The spider did not shrink. Harry looked down at the blackthorn wand. Every minor spell he had cast with it so far that day had seemed less powerful than those he had produced with his phoenix wand. The new one felt intrusively unfamiliar, like having somebody else’s hand sewn to the end of his arm.
“You just need to practice,” said Hermione, who had approached them noiselessly from behind and had stood watching anxiously as Harry tried to enlarge and reduce the spider. “It’s all a matter of confidence Harry.”
He knew why she wanted it to be all right; She still felt guilty about breaking his wand. He bit back the retort that sprung to his lips, that she could take the blackthorn wand if she thought it made no difference, and he would have hers instead. Keen for them all to be friends again, however, he agreed; but when Ron gave Hermione a tentative smile, she stalked off and vanished behind her book once more.
All three of them returned to the tent when darkness fell, and Harry took first watch. Sitting in the entrance, he tried to make the blackthorn wand levitate small stones at his feet; but his magic still seemed clumsier and less powerful than it had done before. Hermione was lying on her bunk reading, while Ron, after many nervous glances up at her, had taken a small wooden wireless out of his rucksack and started to try to tune it.
“There’s this one program,” he told Harry in a low voice, “that tells the news like it really is. All the others are on You-Know-Who’s side and are following the Ministry line, but this one… you wait till you hear it, it’s great. Only they can’t do it every night, they have to keep changing locations in case they’re raided and you need a password to tune in… Trouble is, I missed the last one…”
He drummed lightly on the top of the radio with his wand muttering random words under his breath. He threw Hermione many covert glances, plainly fearing an angry outburst, but for all the notice she took of him he might not have been there. For ten minutes or so Ron tapped and muttered, Hermione turned the pages of her book, and Harry continued to practice with the blackthorn wand.
Finally Hermione climbed down from her bunk. Ron ceased his tapping at once.
“If it’s annoying you, I’ll stop!” he told Hermione nervously.
Hermione did not deign to respond, but approached Harry.
“We need to talk,” she said.
He looked at the book still clutched in her hand. It was * The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.*
“What?” he said apprehensively. It flew through his mind that there was a chapter on him in there; he was not sure he felt up to hearing Rita’s version of his relationship with Dumbledore. Hermione’s answer however, was completely unexpected.
“I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood.”
He stared at her.
“Sorry?”
“Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna’s father. I want to go and talk to him!”
“Er – why?”
She took a deep breath, as though bracing herself, and said, “It’s that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!”
She thrust The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore under Harry’s unwilling eyes and saw a photograph of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald, with Dumbledore’s familiar thin, slanting handwriting. He hated seeing absolute proof that Dumbledore really had written those words, that they had not been Rita’s invention.
“The signature,” said Hermione. “Look at the signature, Harry!”
He obeyed. For a moment he had no idea what she was talking about, but, looking more closely with the aid of his lit wand, he saw that Dumbledore had replaced the A of Albus with a tiny version of the same triangular mark inscribed upon The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
“Er – what are you –?” said Ron tentatively, but Hermione quelled him with a look and turned back to Harry.
“It keeps cropping up, doesn’t it?“ she said. ”I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald’s mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric’s Hollow, and the dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can’t ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means – I don’t even know whether Grindelwald’s still alive – but we can ask Mr. Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I’m sure this is important, Harry!“
Harry did not answer immediately. He looked into her intense, eager face and then out into the surrounding darkness, thinking. After a long pause he said, “Hermione, we don’t need another Godric’s Hollow. We talked ourselves into going there, and – ”
“But it keeps appearing, Harry! Dumbledore left me The Tales of Beedle the Bard, how do you know we’re not supposed to find out about the sign?“
“Here we go again!” Harry felt slightly exasperated. “We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues – ”
“The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful,” piped up Ron. “I think Hermione’s right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood.”
Harry threw him a dark look. He was quite sure that Ron’s support of Hermione had little to do with a desire to know the meaning of the triangular rune.
“It won’t be like Godric’s Hollow,“ Ron added, ”Lovegood’s on your side, Harry, The Quibbler’s been for you all along, it keeps telling everyone they’ve got to help you!“
“I’m sure this is important!” said Hermione earnestly.
“But don’t you think if it was, Dumbledore would have told me about it before he died?”
“Maybe… maybe it’s something you need to find out for yourself,“ said Hermione with a faint air of clutching at straws.
“Yeah,” said Ron sycophantically, “that makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t,“ snapped Hermione, ”but I still think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric’s Hollow? Harry, I’m sure we ought to know about this!“
“I think we should vote on it,” said Ron. “Those in favor of going to see Love good – ”
His hand flew into the air before Hermione’s. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.
“Outvoted, Harry, sorry,” said Ron, clapping him on the back.
“Fine,” said Harry, half amused, half irritated. “Only, once we’ve seen Lovegood, let’s try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegood’s live, anyway? Do either of you know?”
“Yeah, they’re not far from my place,“ said Ron. ”I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn’t be hard to find.“
When Hermione had returned to her bunk, Harry lowered his voice.
“You only agreed to try and get back in her good books.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” said Ron brightly, “and this is a bit of both. Cheer up, it’s the Christmas holidays, Luna’ll be home!”
They had an excellent view of the village of Ottery St. Catchopole from the breezy hillside to which they Disapparated next morning. From their high vantage point the village looked like a collection of toy houses in the great slanting shafts of sunlight stretching to earth in the breaks between clouds. They stood for a minute or two looking toward the Burrow, their hands shadowing their eyes, but all they could make out were the high hedges and trees of the orchard, which afforded the crooked little house protection from Muggle eyes.
“It’s weird, being this near, but not going to visit,” said Ron.
“Well, it’s not like you haven’t just seen them. You were there for Christmas,” said Hermione coldly.
“I wasn’t at the Burrow!” said Ron with an incredulous laugh. “Do you think I was going to go back there and tell them all I’d walked out on you? Yeah, Fred and George would’ve been great about it. And Ginny, she’d have been really understanding.”
“But where have you been, then?” asked Hermione, surprised.
“Bill and Fleur’s new place. Shell cottage. Bill’s always been decent to me. He – he wasn’t impressed when he heard what I’d done, but he didn’t go on about it. He knew I was really sorry. None of the rest of the family know I was there. Bill told Mum he and Fleur weren’t going home for Christmas because they wanted to spend it alone. You know, first holiday after they were married. I don’t think Fleur minded. You know how much she hates Celestina Warbeck.“
Ron turned his back on the Burrow.
“Let’s try up here,” he said, leading the way over the top of the hill.
They walked for a few hours, Harry, at Hermione’s insistence, hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak. The cluster of low hills appeared to be uninhabited apart from one small cottage, which seemed deserted.
“Do you think it’s theirs, and they’ve gone away for Christmas?” said Hermione, peering through the window at a neat little kitchen with geraniums on the windowsill. Ron snorted.
“Listen, I’ve got a feeling you’d be able to tell who lived there if you looked through the Lovegoods’ window. Let’s try the next lot of hills.”
So they Disapparated a few miles farther north.
“Aha!” shouted Ron, as the wind whipped their hair and clothes. Ron was pointing upward, toward the top of the hill on which they had appeared, where a most strange-looking house rose vertically against the sky, a great black cylinder with a ghostly moon hanging behind it in the afternoon sky. “That’s got to be Luna’s house, who else would live in a place like that? It looks like a giant rook!”
“It’s nothing like a bird,” said Hermione, frowning at the tower.
“I was talking about a chess rook,” said Ron. “A castle to you.”
Ron’s legs were the longest and he reached the top of the hill first. When Harry and Hermione caught up with him, panting and clutching stitches in their sides, they found him grinning broadly.
“It’s theirs,” said Ron. “Look.”
Three hand-painted signs had been tacked to a broke-down gate. The first read,
THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR, X. LOVEGOODthe second,
PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOEthe third,KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMSThe gate creaked as they opened it. The zigzagging path leading to the front door was overgrown with a variety of odd plants, including a bush covered in orange radishlike fruit Luna sometimes wore as earrings. Harry thought he recognized a Snargaluff and gave the wizened stump a wide berth. Two aged crab apple trees, bent with the wind, stripped of leaves but still heavy with berry-sized red fruits and bushy crowns of white beaded mistletoe, stood sentinel on either side of the front door. A little owl with a slightly flattened hawklike head peered down at them from one of the branches.
“You’d better take off the Invisibility Cloak, Harry,” said Hermione. “It’s you Mr. Lovegood wants to help, not us.”
He did as she suggested, handing her the Cloak to stow in the beaded bag. She then rapped three times on the thick black door, which was studded with iron nails and bore a knocker shaped like an eagle.
Barely ten seconds passed, then the door was flung open and there stood Xenophilius Lovegood, barefoot and wearing what appeared to be a stained nightshirt. His long white candyfloss hair was dirty and unkempt. Xenophilius had been positively dapper at Bill and Fleur’s wedding by comparison.
“What? What is it? Who are you? What do you want?“ he cried in a high-pitched, querulous voice, looking first at Hermione, then at Ron, and finally at Harry, upon which his mouth fell open in a perfect, comical O.
“Hello, Mr. Lovegood,” said Harry, holding out his hand, “I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”
Xenophilius did not take Harry’s hand, although the eye that was not pointing inward at his nose slid straight to the scar on Harry’s forehead.
“Would it be okay if we came in?“ asked Harry. ”There’s something we’d like to ask you.“
“I… I’m not sure that’s advisable,” whispered Xenophilius, He swallowed and cast a quick look around the garden. “Rather a shock… My word… I… I’m afraid I don’t really think I ought to –”
“It wont take long” said Harry, slightly disappointed by this less-than-warm welcome.
“I – oh, all right then. Come in, quickly, Quickly!“
They were barely over the threshold when Xenophilius slammed the door shut behind them, They were standing in the most peculiar kitchen Harry had ever seen. The room was perfectly circular, so that he felt like being inside a giant pepper pot. Everything was curved to fit the walls – the stove, the sink, and the cupboards – and all of it had been painted with flowers, insects, and birds in bright primary colors. Harry thought he recognized Luna’s styles. The effect in such and enclosed space, was slightly overwhelming.
In the middle of the floor, a wrought-iron spiral staircase led to the upper levels. There was a great deal of clattering and banging coming from overhead: Harry wondered what Luna could be doing.
“You’d better come up.“ said Xenophilius, still looking extremely uncomfortable, and he led the way.
The room above seemed to be a combination of living room and workplace, and as such, was even more cluttered than the kitchen. Though much smaller and entirely round, the room somewhat resembled the Room of Requirement on the unforgettable occasion that it had transformed itself into a gigantic labyrinth comprised of centuries of hidden objects. There were piles upon piles of books and papers on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures Harry did not recognize, all flapping wings or snapping jaws, hung from the ceiling.
Luna was not there: The thing that was making such a racket was a wooden object covered in magically turning cogs and wheels, It looked like the bizarre offspring of a workbench and a set of shelves, but after a moment Harry deduced that it was an old-fashioned printing press, due to the fact that it was churning out Quibblers.
“Excuse me,“ said Xenophilius, and he strode over to the machine, seized grubbily tablecloth from beneath an immense number of books and papers, which all tumbled onto the floor, and threw it over the press, somewhat muffling the loud bangs and clatters. He then faced Harry.
“Why have you come here?” Before Harry could speak, however, Hermione let out a small cry of shock.
“Mr. Lovegood – what’s that?”
See was pointing at an enormous, gray spiral horn, not unlike that of a unicorn, which had been mounted on the wall, protruding several feet into the room.
“It is the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” said Xenophilius.
“No it isn’t!” said Hermione.
“Hermione,“ muttered Harry, embarrassed, “now’s not the moment – ”
“But Harry, it’s an Erumpent horn! It’s a Class B Tradeable Material and it’s an extraordinary dangerous thing to have in a house!“
“How’d you know it’s an Erumpent horn?” asked Ron, edging away from the horn as fast as he could, given the extreme clutter of the room.
“There’s a description in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them! Mr. Lovegood, you need to get rid of it straightaway, don’t you know it can explode at the slightest touch?”
“The Crumple Horned Snorkack” said Xenophilius very clearly, a mulish look upon his face, “is a shy and highly magical creature, and it’s horn – ”
“Mr. Lovegood. I recognize the grooved markings around the base, that’s an Erumpent horn and it’s incredibly dangerous – I don’t know where you got it-”
“I bought it,“ said Xenophilius dogmatically. ”Two weeks ago, from a delightful young wizard who knew my interest in the exquisite Snorkack. A Christmas surprise for my Luna. Now,“ he said, turning to Harry, ”why exactly have you come here, Mr. Potter?“
“We need some help,” said Harry, before Hermione could start again.
“Ah,” said Xenophilius, “Help, Hmm.”
His good eye moved again to Harry’s scar. He seemed simultaneously terrified and mesmerized.
“Yes. The thing is… helping Harry Potter… rather dangerous…”
“Aren’t you the one who keeps telling everyone it’s their first duty to help Harry?” said Ron. “In that magazine of yours?”
Xenophilius glanced behind him at the concealed printing press, still banging and clattering beneath the tablecloth.
“Er – yes, I have expressed that view. however – ”
“That’s for everyone else to do, not you personally?” said Ron.
Xenophilius did not answer. He kept swallowing, his eyes darting between the three of them. Harry had the impression that he was undergoing some painful internal struggle.
“Where’s Luna?” asked Hermione. “Let’s see what she thinks.”
Xenophilius gulped. He seemed to be steeling himself. Finally he said in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, “Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She…she will like to see you. I’ll go and call her and then – yes, very well. I shall try to help you.”
He disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front open and close. They looked at each other.
“Cowardly old wart,” said Ron. “Luna’s got ten times his guts.”
“He’s probably worried about what’ll happen to them if the Death Eaters find out I was here” said Harry.
“Well, I agree with Ron,“ said Hermione, ”Awful old hypocrite, telling everyone else to help you and trying to worm our of it himself. And for heaven’s sake keep away from that horn.“
Harry crossed to the window on the far side of the room. He could see a stream, a thin, glittering ribbon lying far below them at the base of the hill. They were very high up; a bird fluttered past the window as he stared in the direction of the Burrow, now invisible beyond another line of hills. Ginny was over there somewhere. They were closer to each other today than they had been since Bill and Fleur’s wedding, but she could have no idea he was gazing toward her now, thinking of her. He suppose he ought to be glad of it; anyone he came into contact with was in danger, Xenophilius’s attitude proved that. he turned away from the windows and his gaze fell upon another peculiar object standing upon the cluttered, curved slide board; a stone but of a beautiful but austere-looking witch wearing a most bizarre-looking headdress. Two objects that resembled golden ear trumpets curved out from the sides. A tiny pair of glittering blue wing was stuck to a leather strap that ran over the top of her head, while one of the orange radishes had been stuck to a second strap around her forehead.
“Look at this,” said Harry.
“Fetching,“ said Ron. “Surprised he didn’t wear that to the wedding.”
They heard the front door close, and a moment later Xenophilius climbed back up the spiral staircase into the room, his thin legs now encase in Wellington boots, bearing a tray of ill-assorted teacups and a steaming teapot.
“Ah, you have spotted my pet invention,” he said, shoving the tray into Hermione’s arms and joining Harry at the statue’s side.
“Modeled, fittingly enough, upon the head of the beautiful Rowens Ravenclaw, ‘Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure!’“
He indicated the objects like ear trumpets.
“These are the Wrackpurt siphons – to remove all sources of distraction from the thinker’s immediate area. Here,“ he pointed out the tiny wings, ”a billywig propeller, to induce an elevated frame of mind. Finally,“ he pointed to the orange radish, ”the dirigible Plum, so as to enhance the ability to accept the extraordinary.“
Xenophilius strode back to the tea tray, which Hermione had managed to balance precariously on one of the cluttered side tables.
“May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?“ said Xenophilius. ”We make it ourselves.“ As he started to pour out the drink, which was as deeply purple as beetroot juice, he added, ”Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here She ought not to be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plumpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.“
“Now,” he remove a tottering pile of papers from an armchair and sat down, his Wellingtoned legs crossed, “how may I help you, Mr. Potter?”
“Well,“ said Harry, glancing at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly, “it’s about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Mr. Lovegood. We wondered what it meant.”
Xenophilius raised his eyebrows.
“Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?”
哈利没指望赫敏能在一夜间就消气，所以，当他第二天早上看到赫敏摆着一张臭脸闷闷不乐的时候，并不感到惊讶。罗恩在她面前显得有种不自在的忧郁，看得出他仍然在懊悔。事实上，每当他们三个人开始冷战时，哈利总觉得自己像是那个葬礼中唯一一个不感到悲伤的人。在和哈利一起(收集水，寻找矮树丛下的蘑菇)的时候，罗恩竟然跟什么都没发生过似的高兴了起来：“有人在帮我们，”他接着说道，
　　“有人召唤出了那只雌鹿，那人站在我们这一边，一个魂器被销毁了！”
　　盒子被销毁了，所以他们开始讨论其他可能存放魂器的地点，尽管他们之前已经讨论过这个问题好多次了。哈利乐观地想，事情很快就会有新进展的。赫敏的不悦并没有影响他轻松的心情。他们运气的突然转好，神秘雌鹿的出现、格兰芬多剑的失而复得，最重要的是，罗恩回来了，这令哈利十分高兴，也不用再一直板着脸了。
　　午后，哈利和罗恩再次摆脱了赫敏，借口去冲刷没有黑莓的树篱。然后继续交换他们各自得到的消息。哈利告诉了罗恩关于他和赫敏逃亡期间的故事，一直说到在高椎克山谷所发生的事情。罗恩也告诉了哈利在他离开的这几星期中，他所得知的在茫茫巫师世界里所发生的一切。
　　“……还有，你是怎么知道那个禁咒的?”当罗恩对哈利说完麻瓜出生的巫师们为了逃避魔法部而做的一切拼死努力之后，他问道。
　　“什么?”
　　“你和赫敏已经不再说神秘人的名字了！”
　　“哦，是的，这只不过是我们曾经的一个坏习惯，” 哈利说道， “但我从来没遇到过什么麻烦，当我说出他的名字，伏……”
　　“不！”罗恩吼道，哈利吓得跳进了树丛，而赫敏（坐在帐篷门口，正埋头看着一本书）这时也对他们俩怒目而视。“对不起，”罗恩说，把哈利从树丛里拽了出来，“可那名字被施过魔法了，哈利，这就是他们追踪人们的办法！说出了他的名字就会打破保护魔法，这已经引起了不少不可思议的骚乱——这就是他们在托特纳姆法庭路找到我们的原因！”
　　“就因为我们说出了他的名字？”
　　“没错！你使他们相信，只有那些真正敢于面对他，比如邓布利多的人，才敢说出他名字。现在他们已经在名字上施了禁咒，任何人说出那个名字就会被追踪——这样很容易就能快速地找到凤凰社的成员！他们还差点抓到了金斯莱……”
　　“你在开玩笑吧！”
　　“没有！一群食尸徒把他逼到了绝境，比尔说，他打退了它们然后逃了出来。现在金斯莱也和我们一样在逃亡。”罗恩用魔杖的末端顶着下巴思考着。“你觉得会不会是金斯莱召唤出了那只雌鹿？”
　　“他的守护神是一只猞猁，我们在婚礼上见到过的，还记得吗？”
　　“哦，是的……”
　　他们沿着树丛走得更远了，远离了帐篷和赫敏。
　　“哈利，你猜那会不会是邓布利多？”
　　“邓布利多怎么了？”
　　罗恩显得有点犹豫，然后小声地说道，“邓布利多……那只雌鹿？我的意思是，”罗恩透过眼角看着哈利，“他最后拿到了真正的剑，不是吗？”
　　哈利没有嘲笑罗恩，他很清楚这个问题背后所包含着的期望。邓布利多回到他们身边，并仍在某处注视着他们，这种想法，的确能使人感到难以名状的欣慰。
　　他摇了摇头。
　　“邓布利多已经死了，”他说。“我亲眼看到的，我看到了他的尸体。他是真的走了。更何况，他的守护神是凤凰，不是雌鹿。”
　　“守护神可以变的，不是吗？”罗恩说，“唐克斯的不就变了吗？”
　　“是的，但是如果他还活着，为什么他不来找我们？为什么他不直接把剑给我们？”
　　“我可不知道，”罗恩说。“还有，他为什么不在活着的时候给你？为什么要给你一个破旧的金色飞贼，给赫敏一本古老的童话书？”
　　“就算我们知道了，那又怎么样呢？”哈利看着罗恩那渴望得到答案的表情，问道。
　　“我不知道，”罗恩说，“有时候，当我有点想放弃的时候，曾经想过，或许他是在开玩笑或者——或者他只是为了让一切变的更困难。但我现在不这么想了，不再这么认为了。当他给我熄灯器的时候他知道他在做什么，不是吗？他——是的，”罗恩的耳朵有点红得发亮，然后他似乎对脚边的一丛杂草产生了浓厚的兴趣，开始用自己的脚趾戳着这些杂草，“他一定早就知道我会弃你们而去。”
　　“不，”哈利纠正道，“他一定早就知道无论如何你都会回来的。”
　　罗恩很感激，但还是有点难堪。为了转移话题，哈利说，“说到邓布利多，你知道斯基特是怎么写他的吗？”
　　“当然知道，”罗恩马上说，“人们都在不停的谈论那件事，‘通常，与众不同的事情总能变成大新闻。邓布利多是格林德沃的朋友，但现在这已成了那些不喜欢他的人的笑料，就好像是当面给了那些曾认为他是个好家伙的人一巴掌。虽然我不知道这事有多么重大。他是那么的年轻，当他们——”
　　“像我们这么大的时候，”哈利接道，正如他反驳赫敏时那样，他脸上的表情分明是要阻止罗恩继续谈论这个话题。
　　树莓丛上挂着一张结满寒霜的蛛网，一只大蜘蛛正悠闲地爬在上面。哈利拿起罗恩昨天给他的魔杖，瞄准了蜘蛛，经过赫敏的检查，她确定它是用李木做的。
　　“速速变大！”
　　那只蜘蛛微微抖动了一下，在网上轻轻跳跃着。哈利又试了一次。这次蜘蛛稍稍变大了些。
　　“快停下，”罗恩尖叫道，“我对我说邓布利多很年轻表示道歉，这总行了吧？”
　　哈利似乎忘了罗恩对蜘蛛的恐惧。
　　“哦，对不起，速速缩小！”
　　然而那只蜘蛛没有缩小。哈利低头看着那支李木魔杖。那天他使用的所有魔咒，包括那些最简单的魔咒，威力都要比以前用凤凰魔杖施咒时小得多。这支新魔杖让人有种不舒服的入侵感，就像把别人的手缝在他的手臂上一样。
　　“你只是需要多练习，”赫敏说，她已经悄悄的站到他们身后，并担忧地看着哈利试图使蜘蛛变大和缩小的全过程。“这是看你自己是否自信的问题，哈利。”
　　哈利知道为什么她希望魔杖没问题，她仍然对弄坏他的魔杖感到很愧疚。他正要反驳说，要是她觉得新魔杖与旧的没什么区别的话，她可以把李木魔杖拿去，然后他可以用她的；可还是把刚到嘴边的话咽了回去。他真诚地希望他们能恢复从前的铁关系，所以，无论如何，他同意了。但是当罗恩试着向赫敏微笑时，她高傲地离开了，再次消失在书的后面。
　　黑夜降临后，他们三个都回到了帐篷里面，哈利第一个放哨。坐在帐篷的入口，他试着用李木魔杖把他脚边的一块小石头悬浮在空中，但他的魔力与比以往相比，仍旧显得如此笨拙和无力。此时，赫敏正躺在床上看书，罗恩不安地瞧了她几眼，然后从他的帆布背包中取出一台小型木制无线收音机，并试着调试频道。
　　“这个频道，”他轻声对哈利说，“是个讲述真实新闻的频道。其他所有频道都站在神秘人那边，并被魔法部牵着鼻子走，但是这一个……你听了就会知道，简直太棒了。唯一遗憾的是，他们不能每天晚上都播报，他们得不停地改变地点以防止被追击，另外，需要密码才能收听……问题是，我忘了上一个密码是什么。”
　　他用魔杖在收音机上轻轻敲打着，一边小声地咕哝着什么。并一个劲地偷偷瞄赫敏几眼，看来是害怕她的愤怒会像火山般突然爆发，如果不是她的细心照料，他也来不了这里。罗恩敲敲打打地咕哝了大约十分钟，赫敏翻了一页书，哈利则继续练习使用李木魔杖。
　　最后，赫敏爬下了床。罗恩立刻停止了他的敲打。
　　“如果吵到你了，我会马上停止。”他小心地对赫敏说。
　　赫敏没有要回答他的意思，径直向哈利走去。
　　“我们需要谈谈，”她说。
　　他看着抓在她手上的书。书名叫做《阿不思·邓布利多的谎言和一生》”。
　　“什么？”他担心地说。他心里突然闪过一个念头，书里会有一章写他的，他不知道他是否承受得了，听丽塔的那些关于他和邓布利多关系的瞎编乱造的谎言。然而，赫敏的回答却令他出乎意料。
　　“我要去找谢农费里厄斯·洛夫古德。”
　　哈利盯着她。
　　“你说什么？”
　　“谢农费里厄斯·洛夫古德，卢娜的爸爸，我要去找他并跟他谈谈。”
　　“恩—为什么？”
　　她深呼吸了一下，仿佛在给自己注入力量，然后说，“这是那个标记，在《游吟诗人比德》里的标记。看这个！”
　　她猛地把《邓布利多的谎言和一生》伸到哈利眼前，哈利不情愿地看了一眼，那是邓布利多写给格林德沃的原信的照片，上面是邓布利多那熟悉的瘦瘦的斜体字。他非常厌恶地看到有确凿的证据表明邓布利多写了那封信，而不是丽塔编造的。
　　“这个签名，”赫敏说。“看看这个签名，哈利！”
　　哈利看了，有那么一刻他不明白她的意思，但是，借着魔杖的光芒，他凑近了仔细看，他看到邓布利多把阿不思的A改成了一个小三角，跟他标记在《游吟诗人比德的故事》上的一样。
　　“恩……你们在……？”罗恩小心地问，但赫敏马上用目光制止了她然后她转向哈利。
　　“它一直在出现，不是吗？”她说，“我知道威克多尔说那是格林德沃的符号，但它也确实曾出现在高锥克山谷的古老墓碑上，而且那墓碑上记载的日期比格林德沃出现的时间要早很多！现在看看这个！好了，我们不能问邓布利多或者格林德沃这代表着什么——我甚至不知道格林德沃是否还活着——但我们可以去问洛夫古德先生。他在婚礼上戴过那个标志。我确信这很重要，哈利！”
　　哈利没有马上回答。他看着她激动热切的脸，然后走出帐篷，走进周围的黑暗中，思考着。很久的沉默后，他说：“赫敏，我们不要再盲目地冒险了，上次，我们差点——”
　　“但是它一直在出现，哈利！邓布利多给我留下《游吟诗人比德的故事》，难道他不是希望我们解开符号的迷吗？”
　　“又来了！”哈利有点生气了，“我们总试图说服自己邓布利多留下了秘密的符号和线索——”
　　“事实表明熄灯器的确很有用，”罗恩插嘴说。“我想赫敏是对的，我觉得我们应该去找洛夫古德。”
　　哈利阴沉地看了他一眼。他很清楚罗恩支持赫敏有一部分是因为对那个三角形文字的好奇。
　　“它和高锥克山谷不一样，”罗恩补充道，“洛夫古德是站在你这边的，哈利。《唱唱反调》一直在支持你，它一直在告诉人们他们会帮助你！”
　　“我确定这很重要！”赫敏真诚的说。
　　“但你们难道不觉得，如果真是这样，邓布利多会在他死前告诉我的吗？”
　　“或许……或许这需要让你自己去发现，”赫敏像抓住最后一根稻草那样轻声说。
　　“对，”罗恩奉承地说，“这就说得通了。”
　　“不，不对，”赫敏突然说，“但我仍然觉得我们应该和洛夫古德谈谈，这个符号联系着邓布利多，格林德沃，和高锥克山谷，哈利，我敢肯定我们需要知道这些。”
　　“我想我们可以投票表决，”罗恩说，“赞成去见洛夫古德的举手——”
　　他在赫敏举手前迅速把手举到半空中。赫敏怀疑地蠕动了下嘴唇，举起了手。
　　“少数服从多数，哈利，不好意思了，”罗恩边拍哈利的背边说。
　　“好吧，”哈利说，觉得好笑，又觉得恼怒。“只是，等我们见到洛夫古德之后，我们得试着找其他的魂器，好吗？那么到底洛夫古德一家住在哪呢？你们两有人知道吗？”
　　“我知道，他们家离我家不远，”罗恩说。“虽然我不知道确切的位置，但是爸爸和妈妈每次提到他们时，就会指着那边的小山丘，所以应该不难找。”
　　当赫敏回到她的床上去后，哈利压低声音说。
　　“你就这样同意了，是为了讨好她吧。”
　　“都是因为爱情和战争，”罗恩坦白地说，“两者都有，开心点吧，现在是圣诞假期，卢娜肯定在家！”
　　第二天早上，他们幻影显形到了山腰，微风轻拂，放眼望去，整个奥特里圣卡奇波尔村庄都尽收眼底。他们站在高处，阳光透过云的缝隙，斜斜地映照在地面上，向下看去，村庄看起来像是由许多玩具房子排列在斜轴上。他们抬起手掌挡住阳光，站着又望了一会儿陋居，但他们只能辨认出一些高树篱和果园里的树，它们都是为了使这个奇怪的小房子不被麻瓜发现所种的。
　　“这真不可思议，离得这么近，却不能回家。”罗恩说。
　　“好了，你又不是没看过他们，你还在那里过了圣诞节。”赫敏冷冷地说。
　　“我没回陋居！”罗恩疑惑地笑了。“你觉得我会跑回去告诉他们我离开你们了？然后，弗雷德和乔治就会拿这个寻开心。至于金妮，她倒是一直都很善解人意。”
　　“那你去哪儿了？”赫敏惊讶地问。
　　“比尔和芙蓉的新家。贝壳小屋。比尔对我总是很好。他……他没有生我的气，当他知到我做了什么后，也没有追问。他知道我心里真的很难过。家里的其他人都不知道我在那。比尔跟妈妈说他和芙蓉不回家过圣诞，因为他想和芙蓉单独过。你知道的，这是他们结婚后的第一个节日。我想芙蓉不会介意的。要知道她有多讨厌塞蒂娜·沃贝克。”
　　罗恩转身背对着陋居。
　　“我们从这上去看看，”他说，带头往山上走。
　　他们走了好几个小时，哈利在赫敏的坚持下披着他的隐身衣。一座小别墅孤零零地兀立在荒无人烟的群山丘上，看起来像是被人遗弃了般。
　　“你们有没有觉得那就是他们的房子，而他们现在出去过圣诞节了？”赫敏说着，从窗户往里看，可以看见一个干净的小厨房，窗台上还摆着盆天竺葵。
　　罗恩哼了一声。
　　“听着，我想，在洛夫古德家的窗外，你一眼就可以看出是他们住在那儿。我们去其他山上找找吧。”
　　于是他们再次向北幻影移形了几英里。
　　“啊哈！”罗恩喊着，风将他们的头发和衣服吹得呼呼作响。他指着上方，在他们现身的那处山头，一间异常古怪的房子直指天际，房子后面，一个巨大的，带着可怕的月亮的黑色汽缸挂在午后的天空之下。“这肯定是卢娜的家，还会有谁住在这样的地方？它看起来像颗巨大的棋子！”
　　“它一点都不像旗帜，”赫敏说，皱着眉头看着这座城堡。
　　“我说的是国际象棋，”罗恩说。“这座城堡。”
　　罗恩凭借着脚长的优势最先到达山顶。哈利和赫敏气喘吁吁地追上他时，发现他正得意地咧着嘴笑。
　　“是这里，”罗恩说。“看。”
　　三块自己粉刷的标记被订在一个倒塌的门上。第一个上面写着，　
　　唱唱反调，编辑，谢·洛夫古德　
　　
　　第二个写着，　
　　挑选你自己的榭寄生　
　　
　　第三个写着，　
　　不要试着驾驶洋李　
　　
　　他们慢慢打开吱吱作响的门，一条通向前门的Z字型小路长满了各种各样的古怪植物，其中有一个覆盖着像胡萝卜一样水果（卢娜有时作为耳环戴在耳朵上）的矮树丛。哈利想，他终于找到了一个可以枯萎斯纳格拉夫树桩的收容所。两棵年老的山楂树随风摇曳，光秃秃的枝条上挂着沉甸甸的浆果模样的红色果子，珠状榭寄生密密麻麻地覆盖在上面，像哨兵一样站在前门的两边。一只脑袋长得像鹰的扁头猫头鹰站在一根树枝上看着他们。
　　“你最好把斗篷拿掉，哈利，”赫敏说，“洛夫古德愿意帮助的是你，不是我们。”
　　哈利照办了，把斗篷给她让她装在那个珠状的包里。然后赫敏在那个沉重的黑门上敲了三下，门上布满了铁钉，还装饰着一个鹰形门环。
　　刚过了十秒，门猛得被打开了，他们眼前站着谢农费里厄斯·洛夫古德，他赤着脚穿着一件像是褪色的男睡衣。他那长长的像棉花糖一样的白发又脏又乱。和现在相比，谢农费里厄斯在比尔和芙蓉的婚礼上显然算是衣冠楚楚的了。
　　“什么？什么事？你们是谁？你们要什么？”他暴躁地大声吼着，先看着赫敏，然后看罗恩，最后他的目光停留在哈利身上，突然他的嘴张开形成了一个标准的，滑稽的O。
　　“您好，洛夫古德先生，”哈利伸出他的手，“我是哈利，哈利波特。”
　　谢农费里厄斯没有握哈利的手，他的目光从哈利的鼻端笔直地滑向他前额上的伤疤。
　　“我们可以进去吗？”哈利问，“我们有一些事要问您。”
　　“我……我不确定那是否明智，”谢农费里厄斯小声说，他吞了下口水，飞快地朝花园看了一眼。“真令人吃惊……我的意思……我……恐怕我不是很应该……”
　　“不会太久的，”哈利说，对这个不是很热情的欢迎有点失望。
　　“我……噢，好吧。进来，快，快！”
　　他们刚跨进门槛，门就砰地一声关上了。现在，他们站在一个哈利见过的最奇特的厨房里。这个房间是个标准的圆形，这让他觉得像是走进了个巨大的胡椒粉罐头。所有的东西为了和墙壁相搭配，都弄成了曲线形的——炉，水槽，碗柜——而且所有东西都用明亮的色调画上了花朵，昆虫和小鸟。哈利心想，他终于了解卢娜的风格是如何形成的了。在这样一个封闭的空间内，人们是无法不被它影响的。
　　在地板的中间，有一个螺旋形的锻铁楼梯通往二楼。那里正哗啦哗啦响个不停，还不时传来重物打击的声音；哈利不由地猜想卢娜现在在做什么。
　　“你们最好上来，”谢农费里厄斯说，看起来还是有点不安，然后转身在前面带路。
　　这间房间好像既是客厅又是办公室，因此，它比厨房还要乱，虽然比较小而且是个标准的圆形，这个房间看起来有点像那次难忘的经历中，有求必应屋所变成的巨大的藏匿着上百个的前几世纪物品的迷宫。这里有一堆堆的书，到处都是纸。一些哈利从没见过的生物模型拍打着翅膀，嘴巴发出噼啪噼啪的声音，从天花板上挂下来。
　　卢娜没有在那里，发出声音的是装着魔法齿轮的木制机器，它看起来像是一个工作台和架子的奇异合成品，但没多久，哈利推断它是台老式印刷机，现在它正在印刷唱唱反调。
　　“抱歉，”谢农费里厄斯说，他大步走向那机器，从一大堆书和纸下面抽出一块桌布，书跟纸哗的一下全掉到了地上，然后他把桌布扔到印刷机上，多少盖住了些哗啦重击声。最后他转向哈利。
　　“你怎么会来这里？”
　　哈利还没来得急说什么，赫敏有些受惊地叫道。
　　“洛夫古德先生——那是什么？”
　　她指着一个巨大灰色的旋转形的角——貌似并不是独角兽的——被裱在了墙上并向墙外突出了几英尺。
　　“那是弯角鼾兽的角，”谢农费里厄斯说。
　　“不，那不是！”赫敏说。
　　“赫敏，”哈利小声说，显得有些尴尬，“现在不是时候—”
　　“但是哈利，这是毒角兽的角！它是个B类商品，而且放在家里是十分危险的！”
　　“你怎么知道那是个毒角兽的角？”罗恩问，一边尽可能快地远离那东西，这使整个房间更混乱了。
　　“在‘神奇生物和如何找到它们’的书里有写到！洛夫古德先生，你必须马上扔掉它，你不知道即使是最轻微的触碰也会使它爆炸吗？”
　　“是弯角鼾兽，”谢农费里厄斯清楚地说，脸上带着一种顽固的表情，“这是一种害羞但是拥有很强魔力的生物，它的角——”
　　“洛夫古德先生，我认得那个底部的凹槽，那是毒角兽的角，而且不容置疑的十分危险——我不知道你从哪拿到它——”
　　“我买来的，”谢农费里厄斯断然地说。“两星期前，从一个讨人喜欢的年轻巫师那里买来的，他知道我对高雅精致的兽类感兴趣。这是给我最爱的卢娜的一个圣诞惊喜。那么，”他转向哈利，“你到底是为什么来这里，波特先生？”
　　“我们需要一些帮助，”哈利说，趁赫敏还没再次开口。
　　“啊，”谢农费里厄斯说，“帮助，恩。”
　　他的眼睛再次盯着哈利的伤疤，他似乎同时受到惊吓和催眠。
　　“是。问题是……帮助哈利波特……十分危险……”
　　“难道不是你在一直在告诉人们，帮助哈利是他们的首要责任吗？”罗恩说，“难道那杂志不是你办的吗？”
　　谢农费里厄斯向他身后隐藏起来的机器看了一眼，那机器还在桌布下面劈啪作响地击打着。
　　“呃—是的，我只是表达了我的观点，可是—”
　　“那只是让其他人去做，不是你自己？”罗恩说。
　　谢农费里厄斯没有回答，他一直克制着自己，他的眼睛在三个人之间飞快地瞄着。哈利觉得他正在遭受内心痛苦的挣扎。
　　“卢娜在哪里？”赫敏问。“我们听听她的想法。”
　　谢农费里厄斯咽了下口水。他看起来像在给自己打气。最后他用一种在印刷机的噪音下难以听清的声音颤抖地说，“卢娜在溪边，在钓淡水大嘴鱼。她……她会很高兴见到你们的。我去叫她然后——是的，很好。我会试着帮你们。”
　　然后他消失在旋转楼梯下了，听到前门打开又关上的声音。相互对视了几眼。
　　“胆怯又令人讨厌的老头，”罗恩说。“卢娜比他好十倍。”
　　“或许他只是担心，要是食死徒发现我在这里，会对他们不利。”哈利说。
　　“但是，我同意罗恩的话，”赫敏说，“糟糕的老伪君子，他告诉每个人要帮助你，然后试图自己逃脱。看在上帝的份上，离那只角远一点。”
　　哈利向房间另一边的窗户走去。他看到了一条窄窄的像缎子一样闪闪发光的小溪蜿蜒在远处的山脚下。他们现在站的地方很高，他眺望着陋居的方向，一只鸟扑扇着羽翅飞过窗户，然后消失在群山之中。金妮就在那里。自从比尔和芙蓉的婚礼后，他们还没有像今天这么接近过，但她不会知道他此时正在凝视着她的方向，思念着她。他告诉自己应该为此感到高兴；任何跟他有关系的人都会遭到麻烦，谢农费里厄斯的态度证明了这点。
　　他从窗户转过身，目光被一个放在杂乱弯曲的光滑木板上的奇特东西吸引了，那是一个美丽而又严肃的女巫石像，头上戴着一个世界上最古怪的头巾，两边金色耳机似的东西向外翘着。额头前的一条皮带上粘着一对闪闪发光的蓝色小翅膀，另一根皮带上拴着一颗胡萝卜。
　　“看看这个，”哈利说。
　　“真迷人，”罗恩说。“令人惊讶的是，他在婚礼上怎么没提这个。”
　　他们听到前门关上的声音，过了一会儿，谢农费里厄斯从螺旋楼梯爬进房间，他瘦弱的腿现在套在一双橡胶靴里。他端着一个托盘，托盘上面放着与其极不相称的茶杯和热气腾腾的茶壶。
　　“啊，你们发现我可爱的发明了，”他说着，把托盘塞到赫敏手中，然后和哈利一起站在雕像的一边。
　　“模型，做的很好，在美丽的。罗威娜拉文克劳的头上，‘无尽的智慧是一个人最大的财富！’”
　　他指着那个像是耳机一样的东西。
　　“那是专注思维耳机——可以消除各种使思考者分心的东西，而这个，”他指着那对小翅膀，“一个思维推进器，促使心灵的升华，最后，”他指着胡萝卜，“可驾驶的洋李，可以锻炼心理承受能力。”
　　谢农费里厄斯回到托盘那里，赫敏正在邋遢的桌子那头，努力地想让它保持平衡。
　　“喝一点格迪球根汁吗？”谢农费里厄斯说。“我们自己的做的。”然后他开始把那深紫色的饮料倒出来，看起来像甜菜根的汁，他又说，“卢娜在洼桥那。她听说你们来了，可兴奋了。她最好别太久，她抓的淡水大嘴鱼已经差不多够给我们所有人做汤了。快坐下，自己加点糖吧。”
　　“现在”，他挪开扶手椅上一堆摇摇欲坠的文件，然后坐了下来，穿着橡胶靴的双腿交叉着，“我要怎么帮你呢，波特先生？”
　　“是这样的，”哈利说，看了赫敏一眼，她点点头鼓励他说下去，“是关于你在比尔和芙蓉婚礼上戴在脖子上的那个标志，洛夫古德先生。我们想知道它代表什么。”
　　谢农费里厄斯挑了挑他的眉毛。
　　“你是指死圣的标志吗？”


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《Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows》——哈利波特与死亡圣器（中英文对照）完结_派派后花园

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[Novel] 《Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows》——哈利波特与死亡圣器（中英文对照）完结