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已有 259 次阅读 2011-08-04 14:17"To
hell with the Ministry." growled Greyback. "They'll take the credit,
and we won't get a look in. I say we take him straight to
You-Know-Who." "Will you summon 'im? 'ere?" said Scabior, sounding
awed, terrified. "No," snarled Greyback, "I haven't got -- they say
he's using the Malfoy's place as a base. We'll take the boy there."
H mbt shoes review arry thought he knew why Greyback was not calling
Voldemort. The werewolf might be allowed to wear Death Eater robes when
they wanted to use him, but only Voldemort's inner circle were branded
with the Dark Mark: Greyback had not been granted this highest honor.
Harry's scar seared again – – and he rose into the night, flying
straight up to the windows at the very top of the tower – ". . .
completely sure it's him? ‘Cause if it ain't, Greyback, we're dead."
"Who's in charge here?" roared Greyback, covering his moment of
inadequacy. "I say that's Potter, and him plus his wand, that's two
hundred thousand Galleons right there! But if you're too gutless to
come along, any of you, it's all for me, and with any luck, I'll get
the girl thrown in!" mbt – The window was the merest slit in the
black rock, not big enough for a man to enter. . . . A skeletal figure
was just visible through it, curled beneath a blanket. . . . Dead, or
sleeping . . . ? "All right!" said Scabior. "All right, we're in!
And what about the rest of ‘em, Greyback, what'll we do with ‘em?"
"Might as well take the lot. We've got two Mudbloods, that's another
ten Galleons. Give me the sword mbt chapa as well. If they're rubies,
that's another small fortune right there." The prisoners were
dragged to their feet. Harry could hear Hermione's breathing, fast and
terrified. mbt shoes discount "Grab hold and make it tight. I'll
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said Greyback, seizing a fistful of Harry's hair; Harry could feel his
long yellow nails scratching his scalp. "On three! One – two – three
–" They Disapparated, pulling the prisoners with them. Harry
struggled, trying to throw off Greyback's hand, but it was hopeless:
Ron and Hermione were squeezed tightly against him on either side; he
could not separate from the group, and as the breath was squeezed out
of him his scar seared more painfully still – – as he forced
himself through the slit of a window like a snake and landed, lightly
as vapor inside the cell-like room – The prisoners lurched into one
another as they landed in a country lane. Harry's eyes, still puffy,
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to acclimatize, then he saw a pair of wrought-iron gates at the foot
of what looked like a long drive. He experienced the tiniest trickle of
relief. The worst had not happened yet: Voldemort was not here. He
was, Harry knew, for he was fighting to resist the vision, in some stran UK MBT ge,
fortresslike place, at the top of a tower. How long it would take
Voldemort to mbt sneakers get to this place, once he knew that Harry
was here, was another matter. . . . One of the Snatchers strode to the
gates and shook them. "How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I
can't – blimey!" He whipped his hands away in fright. The iron was
contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a
frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice. "State your
purpose!" "We've got Potter!" Greyback roared triumphantly. "We've
captured Harry Potter!" The gates swung open. mbt shoes "Come
on!" said Greyback to his men, and the prisoners were shunted through
the gates and up the drive, between high hedges that muffled their
footsteps. Harry saw a ghostly white shape above him, and realized it
was an albino peacock. He stumbled and was dragged onto his feet by
Greyback; now he was staggering along sideways, tied back-to-back to
the four other prisoner. Closing his puffy eyes, he allowed the pain in
his scar to overcome him for a moment, wanting to know what Voldemort
was doing, whether he knew yet that Harry was caught. . . . The
emaciated figure stirred beneath its thin blanket and rolled over
toward him, eyes opening in a skull of a face. . . . The frail man sat
up, great sunken eyes fixed upon him, upon Voldemort, and then he
smiled. Most of his teeth were gone. . . . "So, you have come. I
thought you would . . . one day. But your journey was pointless. I
never had it." "You lie!" As Voldemort's anger throbbed inside
him, Harry's scar threatened to burst with pain, and he wrenched his
mind back to his own body, fighting to remain present as the prisoners
were pushed over gravel. Light spilled out over all of them. "What
is this?" said a woman's cold voice. "We're here to see
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" rasped Greyback. "Who are you?" "You
know me!" There was resentment in the werewolf's voice. "Fenrit
Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!" Greyback seized Harry and
dragged him around to face the light, forcing t mbt shoes sale he other
prisoners to shuffle around too. "I know ‘es swollen, ma'am, but
it's ‘im!" piped up Scabior. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see ‘is
scar. And this ‘ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling
around with ‘im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's ‘im, and we've got ‘is
wand as well! ‘Ere, ma'am –" Through his puffy eyelids Harry saw
Narcissa Malfoy scrutinizing his swollen face. Scabior thrust the
blackthorn wand at her. She raised her eyebrows. "Bring them in," she
said. Harry and the others were shoved and kicked up broad stone
steps into a hallway lined with portraits. "Follow me," said
Narcissa, leading the way across the hall. "My son, Draco, is home for
his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know." The
drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; even with his eyes
almost closed Harry could make out the wide proportions of the room. A
crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the
dark purple walls. Two figures rose from chairs in mbt kisumu front of
an ornate marble fireplace as the prisoners were forced into the room
by the Snatchers. "What is this?" The dreadfully familiar,
drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy fell on Harry's ears. He was panicking
now. He could see no way out, and it was easier, as his fear mounted,
mbt online to block out Voldemort's thoughts, though his scar was still
burning. "They say they've got Potter," said Narcissa's cold voice.
"Draco, come here." Harry did not dare look directly at Draco, but
saw him obliquely; a figure slightly taller than he was, rising from
an armchair, his face a pale and pointed blur beneath white-blond hair.
Greyback forced the prisoners to turn again so as to place Harry
directly beneath the chandelier. "Well, boy?" rasped the werewolf.
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