时间：02-27 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2479
The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked; Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around. . . . Let the police come, he thought desperately . . . anyone . ..
"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.
"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeated. "If you accept that fact straightaway.
"It is ready. Master."
They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.
"If I thought I could help you," Dumbledore said gently, "by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened."
"What happened. Harry?" the man asked at last as he lifted Harry up the stone steps.
"Diggory came back to life?" said Sirius sharply.
"Very well," he said, sitting down again. "Voldemort has overcome that particular barrier. Harry, continue, please."
"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.
He and Cedric both grasped a handle.
"Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight,
stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.
For a moment, Cedric looked as though he couldn't believe his ears; then his face split in a grin.
"He took stuff from his father's grave, and from Wormtail, and me," said Harry. His head felt clearer; his scar wasn't hurting so badly; he could now see Moodys face distinctly, even though the office was dark. He could still hear screaming and shouting from the distant Quidditch field.;
Harry didn't answer. He was going to die like Cedric, those pitiless red eyes were telling him so ... he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it... but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort... he wasn't going to beg. . . .？