时间：02-29 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：2011
"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply.
The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.
White fog obscured his senses... big, blurred shapes were moving around him... then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking --
"Didn't they want to help, sit?" said Percy.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak -- Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.
"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."
Ron had his ear to the door.
"Had a good Christmas?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the dementors come to the next one... I mean... we can't afford you to -- well --"
"Ah," said Wood, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case -- I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"
"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" said Lupin shrewdly.
"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."
It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harry had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as he picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.。