哈利波特7__哈利波特与死圣英文版-第27部分

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　never　entered　his　godfather's　bedroom　before。　He　pushed　open　the　door；　holding　his　wand　high　to　cast　light　as　widely　as　possible。　The　room　was　spacious　and　must　once　have　been　handsome。　There　was　a　large　bed　with　a　carved　wooden　headboard；　a　tall　window　obscured　by　long　velvet　curtains　and　a　chandelier　thickly　coated　in　dust　with　candle　scrubs　still　resting　in　its　sockets；　solid　wax　banging　in　frostlike　drips。　A　fine　film　of　dust　covered　the　pictures　on　the　walls　and　the　bed's　headboard；　a　spiders　web　stretched　between　the　chandelier　and　the　top　of　the　large　wooden　wardrobe；　and　as　Harry　moved　deeper　into　the　room；　he　head　a　scurrying　of　disturbed　mice。
The　teenage　Sirius　had　plastered　the　walls　with　so　many　posters　and　pictures　that　little　of　the　wall's　silvery…gray　silk　was　visible。　Harry　could　only　assume　that　Sirius's　parents　had　been　unable　to　remove　the　Permanent　Sticking　Charm　that　kept　them　on　the　wall　because　he　was　sure　they　would　not　have　appreciated　their　eldest　son's　taste　in　decoration。　Sirius　seemed　to　have　long　gone　out　of　his　way　to　annoy　his　parents。　There　were　several　large　Gryffindor　banners；　faded　scarlet　and　gold　just　to　underline　his　difference　from　all　the　rest　of　the　Slytherin　family。　There　were　many　pictures　of　Muggle　motorcycles；　and　also　（Harry　had　to　admire　Sirius's　nerve）　several　posters　of　bikini…clad　Muggle　girls。　Harry　could　tell　that　they　were　Muggles　because　they　remained　quite　stationary　within　their　pictures；　faded　smiles　and　glazed　eyes　frozen　on　the　paper。　This　was　in　contrast　the　only　Wizarding　photograph　on　the　walls　which　was　a　picture　of　four　Hogwarts　students　standing　arm　in　arm；　laughing　at　the　camera。
With　a　leap　of　pleasure；　Harry　recognized　his　father；　his　untidy　black　hair　stuck　up　at　the　back　like　Harry's；　and　he　too　wore　glasses。　Beside　him　was　Sirius；　carelessly　handsome；　his　slightly　arrogant　face　so　much　younger　and　happier　than　Harry　had　ever　seen　it　alive。　To　Sirius's　right　stood　Pettigrew；　more　than　a　head　shorter；　plump　and　watery…eyed；　flushed　with　pleasure　at　his　inclusion　in　this　coolest　of　gangs；　with　the　much…admired　rebels　that　James　and　Sirius　had　been。　On　James's　left　was　Lupin；　even　then　a　little　shabby…looking；　but　he　had　the　same　air　of　delighted　surprise　at　finding　himself　liked　and　included　or　was　it　simply　because　Harry　knew　how　it　had　been；　that　he　saw　these　things　in　the　picture？　He　tried　to　take　it　from　the　wall；　it　was　his　now；　after　all；　Sirius　had　left　him　everything；　but　it　would　not　budge。　Sirius　had　taken　no　chances　in　preventing　his　parents　from　redecorating　his　room。
Harry　looked　around　at　the　floor。　The　sky　outside　was　growing　brightest。　A　shaft　of　light　revealed　bits　of　paper；　books；　and　small　objects　scattered　over　the　carpet。　Evidently　Sirius's　bedroom　had　been　reached　too；　although　its　contents　seemed　to　have　been　judged　mostly；　if　not　entirely；　worthless。　A　few　of　the　books　had　been　shaken　roughly　enough　to　part　company　with　the　covers　and　sundry　pages　littered　the　floor。
Harry　bent　down；　picked　up　a　few　of　the　pieces　of　paper；　and　examined　them。　He　recognized　one　as　a　part　of　an　old　edition　of　iA　History　of　Magici；　by　Bathilda　Bagshot；　and　another　as　belonging　to　a　motorcycle　maintenance　manual。　The　third　was　handwritten　and　crumpled。　He　smoothed　it　out。
iDear　Padfoot；
Thank　you；　thank　you；　for　Harry's　birthday　present！　It　was　his　favorite　by　far。　One　year　old　and　already　zooming　along　on　a　toy　broomstick；　he　looked　so　pleased　with　himself。　I'm　enclosing　a　picture　so　you　can　see。　You　know　it　only　rises　about　two　feet　off　the　ground　but　he　nearly　killed　the　cat　and　he　smashed　a　horrible　vase　Petunia　sent　me　for　Christmas　（no　complaints　there）。　Of　course　James　thought　it　was　so　funny；　says　he's　going　to　be　a　great　Quidditch　player　but　we've　had　to　pack　away　all　the　ornaments　and　make　sure　we　don't　take　our　eyes　off　him　when　he　gets　going。
We　had　a　very　quiet　birthday　tea；　just　us　and　old　Bathilda　who　has　always　been　sweet　to　us　and　who　dotes　on　Garry。　We　were　so　sorry　you　couldn't　come；　but　the　Order's　got　to　come　first；　and　Harry's　not　old　enough　to　know　it's　his　birthday　anyway！　James　is　getting　a　bit　frustrated　shut　up　here；　he　tries　not　to　show　it　but　I　can　tell　…　also　Dumbledore's　still　got　his　Invisibility　Cloak；　so　no　chance　of　little　excursions。　If　you　could　visit；　it　would　cheer　him　up　so　much。　Wormy　was　here　last　weekend。　I　thought　he　seemed　down；　but　that　was　probably　the　next　about　the　McKinnons；　I　cried　all　evening　when　I　heard。
Bathilda　drops　in　most　days；　she's　a　fascinating　old　thing　with　the　most　amazing　stories　about　Dumbledore。　I'm　not　sure　he'd　be　pleased　if　he　knew！　I　don't　know　how　much　to　believe；　actually　because　it　seems　incredible　that　Dumbledorei
Harry's　extremities　seemed　to　have　gone　numb。　He　stood　quite　still；　holding　the　miraculous　paper　in　his　nerveless　fingers　while　inside　him　a　kind　of　quiet　eruptions　sent　joy　and　grief　thundering　its　equal　measure　through　his　veins。　Lurching　to　the　bed；　he　sat　down。
He　read　the　letter　again；　but　could　not　take　in　any　more　meaning　than　he　had　done　the　first　time；　and　was　reduced　to　staring　at　the　handwriting　itself。　She　had　made　her　〃g〃s　the　same　way　he　did。　He　searched　through　the　letter　for　every　one　of　them；　and　each　felt　like　a　friendly　little　wave　glimpsed　from　behind　a　veil。　The　letter　was　an　incredible　treasure；　proof　that　Lily　Potter　had　lived；　really　lived；　that　her　warm　hand　had　once　moved　across　this　parchment；　tracing　ink　into　these　letters；　these　words；　words　about　him；　Harry；　her　son。
Impatiently　brushing　away　the　wetness　in　his　eyes；　he　reread　the　letter；　this　time　concentrating　on　the　meaning。　It　was　like　listening　to　a　half…remembered　voice。
They　had　a　cata133　perhaps　it　had　perished；　like　his　parents　at　Godric's　Hollowa133　or　else　fled　when　there　was　nobody　left　to　feed　ita133　Sirius　had　bought　him　his　first　broomsticka133　His　parents　had　known　Bathilda　Bagshot；　had　Dumbledore　introduced　them？　iDumbledore's　still　got　his　Invisibility　Cloakia133　there　was　something　funny　therea133
Harry　paused；　pondering　his　mother's　words。　Why　had　Dumbledore　taken　James's　Invisibility　Cloak？　Harry　distinctly　remembered　his　headmaster　telling　him　years　before；　〃I　don't　need　a　cloak　to　become　invisible〃　Perhaps　some　less　gifted　Order
member　had　needed　its　assistance；　and　Dumbledore　had　acted　as　a　carrier？　Harry　passed　ona133
iWormy　was　herea133i　Pettigrew；　the　traitor；　had　seemed　〃down〃　had　he？　Was　he　aware　that　he　was　seeing　James　and　Lily　alive　for　the　last　time？
And　finally　Bathilda　again；　who　told　incredible　stories　about　Dumbledore。　iIt　seems　incredible　that　Dumbledore　a150a150…i
That　Dumbledore　what？　But　there　were　any　number　of　things　that　would　seem　incredible　about　Dumbledore；　that　he　had　once　received　bottom　marks　in　a　Transfiguration　test；　for　instance　or　had　taken　up　goat　charming　like　Aberfortha133
Harry　got　to　his　feet　and　scanned　the　floor：　Perhaps　the　rest　of　the　letter　was　here　somewhere。　He　seized　papers；　treating　them　in　his　eagerness；　with　as　little　consideration　as　the　original　searcher；　he　pulled　open　drawers；　shook　out　books；　stood　on　a　chair　to　run　his　hand　over　the　top　of　the　wardrobe；　and　crawled　under　the　bed　and　armchair。
At　last；　lying　facedown　on　the　floor；　he　spotted　what　looked　like　a　torn　piece　of　paper　under　the　chest　of　drawers。　When　he　pulled　it　out；　it　proved　to　be　most　of　the　photograph　that　Lily　had　described　in　her　letter。　A　black…haired　baby　was　zooming　in　and　out　of　the　picture　on　a　tiny　broom；　roaring　with　laughter；　and　a　pair　of　legs　that　must　have　belonged　to　James　was　chasing　after　him。　Harry　tucked　the　photograph　into　his　pocket　with　Lily's　letter　and　continued　to　look　for　the　second　sheet。
After　another　quarter　of　an　hour；　however　he　was　forced　to　conclude　that　the　rest　of　his　mother's　letter　was　gone。　Had　it　simply　been　lost　in　the　sixteen　years　that　had　elapsed　since　it　had　been　written；　or　had　it　been　taken　by　whoever　had　searched　the　room？　Harry　read　the　first　sheet　again；　this　time　looking　for　clues　as　to　what　might　have　made　the　second　sheet　valuable。　His　toy　broomstick　could　hardly　be　considered　interesting　to　the　Death　Eatersa133　The　only　potentially　useful　thing　he　could　see　her　was　possible　information　on　Dumbledore。　iIt　seems　incredible　that　Dumbledorei　…　what？
〃Harry？　Harry？　iHarry！〃i
〃I'm　here！〃　he　called；　〃What's　happened？〃
There　was　a　clatter　of　footsteps　outside　the　door；　and　Hermione　burst　inside。
〃We　woke　up　and　didn't　know　where　you　were！〃　she　said　breathlessly。　She　turned　and　shouted　over　her　shoulder；　〃Ron！　I've　found　him〃
Ron's　annoyed　voice　echoed　distantly　from　several　floors　below。
〃Good！　Tell　him　from　me　he's　a　git！〃
〃Harry　don't　just　disappear；　please；　we　were　terrified！　Why　did　you　come　up　here　anyway？〃　She　gazed　around　the　ransacked　room。　〃What　have　you　been　doing？〃
〃Look　what　I've　just　found〃
He　held　out　his　mother's　letter。　Hermione　took　it　out　and　read　it　while　Harry　watched　her。　When　she　reached　the　end　of　the　page　she　looked　up　at　him。
〃Oh　Harrya133〃　〃And　there's　this　too〃
He　handed　her　the　torn　photograph；　and　Hermione　smiled　at　the　baby　zooming　in　and　out　of　sight　on　the　toy　broom。
〃I've　been　looking　for　the　rest　of　the　letter；〃　Harry　said；　〃but　it's　not　here。〃
Hermione　glanced　around。
〃Did　you　make　all　this　mess；　or　was　some　of　it　done　when　you　got　here？〃
〃Someone　had　searched　before　me；〃　said　Harry。
〃I　thought　so。　Every　room　I　looked　into　on　the　way　up　had　been　disturbed。　What　were　they　after；　do　you　think？〃
〃Information　on　the　Order；　if　it　was　Snape。〃
〃But　you'd　think　he'd　already　have　all　he　needed。　I　mean　was　iini　the　Order；　wasn't　he？〃
〃Well　then；〃　said　Harry；　keen　to　discuss　his　theory；　〃what　about　information　on　Dumbledore？　The　second　page　of　the　letter；　for　instance。　You　know　this　Bathilda　my　mum　mentions；　you　know　who　she　is？〃
〃Who？〃
〃Bathilda　Bagshot；　the　author　of　…〃
〃iA　History　of　Magic；〃i　said　Hermione；　looking　interested。　〃So　your　parents　knew　her？　She　was　an　incredible　magic　historian。〃
〃And　she's　still　alive；〃　said　Harry；　〃and　she　lives　in　Godric's　Hollow。　Ron's　Auntie　Muriel　was　talking　about　her　at　the　wedding。　She　knew　Dumbledore's　family　too。　Be　pretty　interesting　to　talk　to；　wouldn't　she？〃　There　was　a　little　too