时间：02-20 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：8629
Malfoy was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it.
"Was his son a Death Eater?" said Harry.
So at half past eight that night. Harry left Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As he crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room.
"You know - you know the trial you found me in? The one with Crouch's son? Well....were they talking about Neville's parents?"
"So he did Disapparate?" said Ron.
"You could," said Dumbledore heavily. "I attended it many times, but some trials come back to me more clearly than others ... particularly now. ..."
"Fine," Harry lied.
"I warned her!" said Ron as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling her hands.
"Dobby, where's Winky?" said Hermione, who was looking around.
The house-elves crowded around Harry, Ron, and Hermione and began shunting them out of the kitchen, many little hands pushing in the smalls of their backs.
"You're not... his?" whispered Crouch, his mouth sagging.
"Thank you for the socks, Harry Potter!" Dobby called miserably from the hearth, where he was standing next to the lumpy tablecloth that was Winky.
"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -"
"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snapes office then?" said Ron stubbornly.
"Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic . . . maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long. ..."
The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-colored hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat, whimpering into her handkerchief.
This was not, however, a Ludo Bagman gone to seed, but a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had bound Karkaroff, and Bagman, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.（央视记者 徐海霞）