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第0章 封无尘

hate and despise myself too much for these feelings; I know them

He now resumed the book with which he had been occupied

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

he is not a judge; now he’s one thing, now he’s another; now he’s

he is of mine;—I am sure he is—I feel akin to him—I understand

He looked around.

Harry moved closer to the boy. Snape looked no more than nine or ten years old, sallow, small, stringy. There was undisguised greed in his thin face as he watched the younger of the two girls swinging higher and higher than her sister.

Harry knew Dumbledore was referring to the clock that told, not the time, but the whereabouts and conditions of the various Weasley family members, and with a pang he thought that Mr. Weasley's hand must, even now, be pointing at mortal peril.But it was very late. Mrs. Weasley was probably asleep, not watching the clock. Harry felt cold as he remembered Mrs. Weasley's boggart turning into Mr. Weasley's lifeless body, his glasses askew, blood running down his face ... but Mr. Weasley wasn't going to die ... he couldn't ...

Harry felt Dumbledore's arm twist away from him and redoubled his grip; the next thing he knew, everything went black; he was being pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his eardrums were being pushed deeper into his skull and then—