时间：2020 01-29 作者：corqvrj 浏览量：65473
'Making a racket like a starting pistol right outside our - '
'I'll t-tell Dad!' Dudley whimpered. 'W-where are you? What are you d-do-?'
'Dementors?' repeated Mundungus, aghast. 'Dementors, 'ere?'
'GET IT!' Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he had conjured came galloping past him. The Dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.
without the prior permission of the publisher
An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; it's antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated.
'What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?' said Harry, Completely nonplussed. 'What am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?'
'Nice right hook, Big D,' said Piers.
It was impossible . . . they couldn't be here . . . not in Little Whinging . . . he strained his ears . . . he would hear them before he saw them . . .
'Wait!' Harry shouted after her. He had a million questions to ask anyone who was in contact with Dumbledore; but within seconds Mrs Figg was swallowed by the darkness. Scowling, Harry readjusted Dudley on his shoulder and made his slow, painful way up number four's garden path.
He let out a long, slow breath and stared up at the brilliant blue sky. Every day this summer had been the same: the tension, the expectation, the temporary relief, and then mounting tension again . . . and always, growing more insistent all the time, the question of why nothing had happened yet.
Harry suppressed a snort with difficulty. The Dursleys really were astonishingly stupid about their son, Dudley. They had swallowed all his dim-witted lies about having tea with a different member of his gang every night of the summer holidays. Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley had not been to tea anywhere; he and his gang spent every evening vandalising the play park, smoking on street corners and throwing stones at passing cars and children. Harry had seen them at it during his evening walks around Little Whinging; he had spent most of the holidays wandering the streets, scavenging newspapers from bins along the way.。