时间：02-23 来源：转载自澎湃新闻 浏览量：4582
Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.
"What the --?"
"Er -- Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.
"Er -- all right."
"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"
"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.
"You don't have to --"
the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and -- a letter for Harry.
On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.
The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.
The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."（央视记者 徐海霞）