哈利波特7__哈利波特与死圣英文版-第50部分

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　was　shivering　a　little　and　kept　glancing　back　over　her　shoulder。　〃Harry？　What　do　you　think？　Harry？〃　She　tugged　at　this　arm；　but　Harry　was　not　paying　attention。　He　was　looking　toward　the　dark　mass　that　stood　at　the　very　end　of　this　row　of　houses。　Next　moment　he　sped　up；　dragging　Hermione　along　with　him；　she　slipped　a　little　on　the　ice。　〃Harry　a150a150〃　〃Look　。。。　Look　at　it；　Hermione　。。。〃　〃I　don't　。。。　oh！〃　He　could　see　it；　the　Fidelius　Charm　must　have　died　with　James　and　Lily。　The　hedge　had　grown　wild　in　the　sixteen　years　since　Hagrid　had　taken　Harry　from　the　rubble　that　lay　scattered　amongst　the　waist…high　grass。　Most　of　the　cottage　was　still　standing；　though　entirely　covered　in　the　dark　ivy　and　snow；　but　the　right　side　of　the　top　floor　had　been　blown　apart；　that；　Harry　was　sure；　was　where　the　curse　had　backfired。　He　and　Hermione
stood　at　the　gate；　gazing　up　at　the　wreck　of　what　must　once　have　been　a　cottage　just　like　those　that　flanked　it。　〃I　wonder　why　nobody's　ever　rebuilt　it？〃　whispered　Hermione。　〃Maybe　you　can't　rebuild　it？〃　Harry　replied。　〃Maybe　it's　like　the　injuries　from　Dark　Magic　and　you　can't　repair　the　damage？〃　He　slipped　a　hand　from　beneath　the　Cloak　and　grasped　the　snowy　and　thickly　rusted　gate；　not　wishing　to　open　it；　but　simply　so　he'd　some　part　of　the　house。　〃You're　not　going　to　go　inside？　It　looks　unsafe；　it　might　a150a150　oh；　Harry；　look！〃　His　touch　on　the　gate　seemed　to　have　done　it。　A　sign　had　risen　out　of　the　ground　in　front　of　them；　up　thorough　the　tangles　of　nettles　and　weeds；　like　some　bizarre；　fast…growing　flower；　and　in　golden　letters　upon　the　wood　it　said：　On　this　spot；　on　this　night　of　31　October　1981；　Lily　and　James　Potter　lost　their　lives。　Their　son；　Harry；　remains　the　only　wizard　ever　to　have　survived　the　Killing　Curse。　This　house；　invisible　to　Muggles；　has　been　left　in　its　ruined　state　as　a　monument　to　the　Potters　and　as　a　reminder　of　the　violence　that　tore　apart　their　family。　And　all　around　these　neatly　lettered　words；　scribbles　had　been　added　by　other　witches　and　wizards　who　had　come　to　see　the　place　where　the　Boy　Who　Lived　had　escaped。　Some　had　merely　signed　their　names　in　Everlasting　Ink；　others　had　carved　their　initials　into　the　wood；　still　others　had　left　messages。　The　most　recent　of　these；　shining　brightly　over　sixteen　years'　worth　of　magical　graffiti；　all　said　similar　things。　Good　luck；　Harry；　wherever　you　are。　If　you　read　this；　Harry；　we're　all　behind　you！　Long　live　Harry　Potter。　〃They　shouldn't　have　written　on　the　sign！〃　said　Hermione；　indignant。　But　Harry　beamed　at　her。　〃It's　brilliant。　I'm　glad　they　did。　I　。。。〃　He　broke　off。　A　heavily　muffled　figure　was　hobbling　up　the　lane　toward　them；　silhouetted　by　the　bright　lights　in　the　distant　square。　Harry　thought；　though　it　was　hard　to　judge；　that　the　figure　was　a　woman。　She　was　moving　slowly；　possibly　frightened　of　slipping　on　the　snowy　ground。　Her　stoop；　her　stoutness；　her　shuffling　gait　all　gave　an　impression　of
extreme　age。　They　watched　in　silence　as　she　drew　nearer。　Harry　was　waiting　to　see　whether　she　would　turn　into　any　of　the　cottages　she　was　passing；　but　he　knew　instinctively　that　she　would　not。　At　last　she　came　to　a　halt　a　few　yards　from　them　and　simply　stood　there　in　the　middle　of　the　frozen　road；　facing　them。　He　did　not　need　Hermione's　pinch　to　his　arm。　There　was　next　to　no　chance　that　this　woman　was　a　Muggle：　She　was　standing　there　gazing　at　a　house　that　ought　to　have　been　completely　invisible　to　her；　if　she　was　not　a　witch。　Even　assuming　that　she　was　a　witch；　however；　it　was　odd　behavior　to　come　out　on　a　night　this　cold；　simply　to　look　at　an　old　ruin。　By　all　the　rules　of　normal　magic；　meanwhile；　she　ought　not　to　be　able　to　see　Hermione　and　him　at　all。　Nevertheless；　Harry　had　the　strangest　feeling　that　she　knew　that　they　were　there；　and　also　who　they　were。　Just　as　he　had　reached　this　uneasy　conclusion；　she　raised　a　gloved　hand　and　beckoned。　Hermione　moved　closer　to　him　under　the　Cloak；　her　arm　pressed　against　his。　〃How　does　she　know？〃　He　shook　his　head。　The　woman　beckoned　again；　more　vigorously。　Harry　could　think　of　many　reasons　not　to　obey　the　summons；　and　yet　his　suspicions　about　her　identity　were　growing　stronger　every　moment　that　they　stood　facing　each　other　in　the　deserted　street。　Was　it　possible　that　she　had　been　waiting　for　them　all　these　long　months？　That　Dumbledore　had　told　her　to　wait；　and　that　Harry　would　come　in　the　end？　Was　it　not　likely　that　it　was　she　who　had　moved　in　the　shadows　in　the　graveyard　and　had　followed　them　to　this　spot？　Even　her　ability　to　sense　them　suggested　some　Dumbledore…ish　power　that　he　had　never　encountered　before。　Finally　Harry　spoke；　causing　Hermione　to　gasp　and　jump。　〃Are　you　Bathilda？〃　The　muffled　figure　nodded　and　beckoned　again。　Beneath　the　Cloak　Harry　and　Hermione　looked　at　each　other。　Harry　raised　his　eyebrows；　Hermione　gave　a　tiny；　nervous　nod。　They　stepped　toward　the　woman　and　；　at　once；　she　turned　and　hobbled　off　back　the　way　they　had　come。　Leading　them　past　several　houses；　she　turned　in　at　a　gate。　They　followed　her　up　the　front　path　through　a　garden　nearly　as　overgrown　as　the　one　they　had　just　left。　She　fumbled　for　a　moment　with　a　key　at　the　front　door；　then　opened　it　and　stepped　back　to　let　them　pass。　She　smelled　bad；　or　perhaps　it　was　her　house；　Harry　wrinkled　his　nose　as　they　sidled　past　her　and　pulled　off　the　Cloak。　Now　that　he　was　beside　her；　he　realized　how　tiny　she　was；　bowed　down　with　age；　she　came　barely　level　with　his　chest。　She　closed　the　door　behind
them；　her　knuckles　blue　and　mottled　against　the　peeling　paint；　then　turned　and　peered　into　Harry's　face。　Her　eyes　were　thick　with　cataracts　and　sunken　into　folds　of　transparent　skin；　and　her　whole　face　was　dotted　with　broken　veins　and　liver　spots。　He　wondered　whether　she　could　make　him　out　at　all；　even　if　she　could；　it　was　the　balding　Muggle　whose　identity　he　had　stolen　that　she　would　see。　The　odor　of　old　age；　of　dust；　of　unwashed　clothes　and　stale　food　intensified　as　the　unwound　a　moth…eaten　black　shawl；　revealing　a　head　of　scant　white　hair　through　which　the　scalp　showed　clearly。　〃Bathilda？〃　Harry　repeated。　She　nodded　again。　Harry　became　aware　of　the　locket　against　his　skin；　the　thing　inside　it　that　sometimes　ticked　or　beat　had　woken；　he　could　feel　it　pulsing　through　the　cold　gold。　Did　it　know；　could　it　sense；　that　the　thing　that　would　destroy　it　was　near？　Bathilda　shuffled　past　them；　pushing　Hermione　aside　as　though　she　had　not　seen　her；　and　vanished　into　what　seemed　to　be　a　sitting　room。　〃Harry；　I'm　not　sure　about　this；〃　breathed　Hermione。　〃Look　at　the　size　of　her；　I　think　we　could　overpower　her　if　we　had　to；〃　said　Harry。　〃Listen；　I　should　have　told　you；　I　knew　she　wasn't　all　there。　Muriel　called　her　'gaga。'〃　〃Come！〃　called　Bathilda　from　the　next　room。　Hermione　jumped　and　clutched　Harry's　arm。　〃It's　okay；〃　said　Harry　reassuringly；　and　he　led　the　way　into　the　sitting　room。　Bathilda　was　tottering　around　the　place　lighting　candles；　but　it　was　still　very　dark；　not　to　mention　extremely　dirty。　Thick　dust　crunched　beneath　their　feet；　and　Harry's　nose　detected；　underneath　the　dank　and　mildewed　smell；　something　worse；　like　meat　gone　bad。　He　wondered　when　was　the　last　time　anyone　had　been　inside　Bathilda's　house　to　check　whether　she　was　coping。　She　seemed　to　have　forgotten　that　she　could　do　magic；　too；　for　she　lit　the　candles　clumsily　by　hand；　her　trailing　lace　cuff　in　constant　danger　of　catching　fire。　〃Let　me　do　that；〃　offered　Harry；　and　he　took　the　matches　from　her。　She　stood　watching　him　as　he　finished　lighting　the　candle　stubs　that　stood　on　saucers　around　the　room；　perched　precariously　on　stacks　of　books　and　on　side　tables　crammed　with　cracked　and　moldy　cups。　The　last　surface　on　which　Harry　spotted　a　candle　was　a　bow…fronted　chest　of　drawers　on　which　there　stood　a　large　number　of　photographs。　When　the　flame　danced　into　life；　its　reflection　wavered　on　their　dusty　glass　and　silver。　He　saw　a　few　tiny　movements　from　the
pictures。　As　Bathilda　fumbled　with　logs　for　the　fire；　he　muttered　〃Tergeo〃：　The　dust　vanished　from　the　photographs；　and　he　saw　at　once　that　half　a　dozen　were　missing　from　the　largest　and　most　ornate　frames。　He　wondered　whether　Bathilda　or　somebody　else　had　removed　them。　Then　the　sight　of　a　photograph　near　the　back　of　the　collection　caught　his　eye；　and　he　snatched　it　up。　It　was　the　golden…haired；　merry…faced　thief；　the　young　man　who　had　perched　on　Gregorovitch's　windowsill；　smiling　lazily　up　at　Harry　out　of　the　silver　frame。　And　it　came　to　Harry　instantly　where　he　had　seen　the　boy　before：　in　The　Life　and　Lies　of　Albus　Dumbledore；　arm　in　arm　with　the　teenage　Dumbledore；　and　that　must　be　where　all　the　missing　photographs　were：　in　Rita's　book。　〃Mrs。　a150a150　Miss　a150a150　Bagshot？〃　he　said；　and　his　voice　shook　slightly。　〃Who　is　this？〃　Bathilda　was　standing　in　the　middle　of　the　room　watching　Hermione　light　the　fire　for　her。　〃Miss　Bagshot？〃　Harry　repeated；　and　he　advanced　with　the　picture　in　his　hands　as　the　flames　burst　into　life　in　the　fireplace。　Bathilda　looked　up　at　his　voice；　and　the　Horcrux　beat　faster　upon　his　chest。　〃Who　is　this　person？〃　Harry　asked　her；　pushing　the　picture　forward。　She　peered　at　it　solemnly；　then　up　at　Harry。　〃Do　you　know　who　this　is？〃　he　repeated　in　a　much　slower　and　louder　voice　than　usual。　〃This　man？　Do　you　know　him？　What's　he　called？〃　Bathilda　merely　looked　vague。　Harry　felt　an　awful　frustration。　How　had　Rita　Skeeter　unlocked　Bathilda's　memories？　〃Who　is　this　man？〃　he　repeated　loudly。　〃Harry；　what　area　you　doing？〃　asked　Hermione。　〃This　picture。　Hermione；　it's　the　thief；　the　thief　who　stole　from　Gregorovitch！　Please！〃　he　said　to　Bathilda。　〃Who　is　this？〃　But　she　only　stared　at　him。　〃Why　did　you　ask　us　to　come　with　you；　Mrs。　…　Miss　a150a150　Bagshot？〃　asked　Hermione；　raising　her　own　voice。　〃Was　there　something　you　wanted　to　tell　us？〃　Giving　no　sign　that　she　had　heard　Hermione；　Bathilda　now　shuffled　a　few　steps　closer　to　Harry。　With　a　little　jerk　of　her　head　she　looked　back　into　the　hall。　〃You　want　us　to　leave？〃　he　asked。
She　repeated　the　gesture；　this　time　pointing　firstly　at　him；　then　at　herself；　then　at　the　ceiling。　〃Oh；　right。。。　Hermione；　I　think　she　wants　me　to　go　upstairs　with　her。〃　〃All　right；〃　said　Hermione；　〃let's　go。〃　But　when　Hermione　moved；　Bathilda　shook　her　head　with　surprising　vigor；