时间：2020 01-23 作者：njjreld 浏览量：77592
'Yes,' said Hermione. 'Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?'
'Five points for Gryffindor,' said Professor Grubbly-Plank. 'Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?'
'Good girl, take another five points.. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle - I have enough here for one between three - you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body-parts labelled by the end of the lesson.'
The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry.
'Potter, use your common sense,' snapped Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. 'You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting.'
Thanks,' he said grudgingly.
Thanks,' he said grudgingly.
She stood up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and Harry stood up, too.
'You can laugh,' Luna said, her voice rising, apparently under the impression that Parvati and Lavender were laughing at what she had said rather than what she was wearing, 'but people used to believe there were no such things as the Blibbering Humdinger or the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!'
'Well, I dreamed I was playing Quidditch the other night,' said Ron, screwing up his face in an effort to remember. 'What d'you reckon that means?'
To nobody's surprise, Professor Sprout started their lesson by lecturing them about the importance of OWLs. Harry wished all the teachers would stop doing this; he was starting to get an anxious, twisted feeling in his stomach every time he remembered how much homework he had to do, a feeling that worsened dramatically when Professor Sprout gave them yet another essay at the end of class. Tired and smelling strongly of dragon dung, Professor Sprouts preferred type of fertiliser, the Gryffindors trooped back up to the castle an hour and a half later, none of them talking very much; it had been another long day.
'Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!' trilled Professor Umbridge. 'Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?' she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up.
There was a collective intake of breath from the class, for none of them, apart from Ron and Hermione, had ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric had died. They stared avidly from Harry to Professor Umbridge, who had raised her eyes and was staring at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.
'Dumbledore would know if something had happened to Hagrid,' said Hermione at once. 'It's just playing into Malfoy's hands to look worried; it tells him we don't know exactly what's going on. We've got to ignore him, Harry. Here, hold the Bowtruckle for a moment, just so I can draw its face . . .'
'Good-day,' said Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice, and Harry broke off, again feeling both annoyed and slightly ashamed of himself. 'And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely - as, of course, I knew you would.,