jkrowling.hp&theorderofphenix-第72章

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vening　in　detention　with　Umbridge。　Ron　was　even　further　behind　with　his　work　than　Harry；　because　while　they　both　had　Quidditch　practice　twice　a　week；　Ron　also　had　his　prefect　duties。　However；　Hermione；　who　was　taking　more　subjects　than　either　of　them；　had　not　only　finished　all　her　homework　but　was　also　finding　time　to　knit　more　elf　clothes。　Harry　had　to　admit　that　she　was　getting　better；　it　was　now　almost　always　possible　to　distinguish　between　the　hats　and　the　socks。
　　　The　morning　of　the　Hogsmeade　visit　dawned　bright　but　windy。　After　breakfast　they　queued　up　in　front　of　Filch；　who　matched　their　names　to　the　long　list　of　students　who　had　permission　from　their　parents　or　guardian　to　visit　the　village。　With　a　slight　pang；　Harry　remembered　that　if　it　hadn't　been　for　Sirius；　he　would　not　have　been　going　at　all。
　　　When　Harry　reached　Filch；　the　caretaker　gave　a　great　sniff　as　though　trying　to　detect　a　whiff　of　something　from　Harry。　Then　he　gave　a　curt　nod　that　set　his　jowls　aquiver　again　and　Harry　walked　on；　out　on　to　the　stone　steps　and　the　cold；　sunlit　day。
　　　'Er　…　why　was　Filch　sniffing　you？'　asked　Ron；　as　he；　Harry　and　Hermione　set　off　at　a　brisk　pace　down　the　wide　drive　to　the　gates。
　　　'I　suppose　he　was　checking　for　the　smell　of　Dungbombs；'　said　Harry　with　a　small　laugh。　'I　forgot　to　tell　you：'
　　　
　　　And　he　recounted　the　story　of　sending　his　letter　to　Sirius　and　Filch　bursting　in　seconds　later；　demanding　to　see　the　letter。　To　his　slight　surprise；　Hermione　found　this　story　highly　interesting；　much　more；　indeed；　than　he　did　himself。
　　　'He　said　he　was　tipped　off　you　were　ordering　Dungbombs？　But　who　tipped　him　off？'
　　　
　　　'I　dunno；'　said　Harry；　shrugging。　'Maybe　Malfoy；　he'd　think　it　was　a　laugh。'
　　　
　　　They　walked　between　the　tall　stone　pillars　topped　with　winged　boars　and　turned　left　on　to　the　road　into　the　village；　the　wind　whipping　their　hair　into　their　eyes。
　　　'Malfoy？'　said　Hermione；　sceptically。　'Well：　yes：　maybe：'
　　　
　　　And　she　remained　deep　in　thought　all　the　way　into　the　outskirts　of　Hogsmeade。
　　　'Where　are　we　going；　anyway？'　Harry　asked。　The　Three　Broomsticks？'
　　　
　　　'Oh　…　no；'　said　Hermione；　ing　out　of　her　reverie；　'no；　it's　always　packed　and　really　noisy。　I've　told　the　others　to　meet　us　in　the　Hog's　Head；　that　other　pub；　you　know　the　one；　it's　not　on　the　main　road。　I　think　it's　a　bit：　you　know：　dodgy：　but　students　don't　normally　go　in　there；　so　I　don't　think　we'll　be　overheard。'
　　　
　　　They　walked　down　the　main　street　past　Zonko's　Wizarding　Joke　Shop；　where　they　were　not　surprised　to　see　Fred；　George　and　Lee　Jordan；　past　the　post　office；　from　which　owls　issued　at　regular　intervals；　and　turned　up　a　side…street　at　the　top　of　which　stood　a　small　inn。　A　battered　wooden　sign　hung　from　a　rusty　bracket　over　the　door；　with　a　picture　on　it　of　a　wild　boar's　severed　head；　leaking　blood　on　to　the　white　cloth　around　it。　The　sign　creaked　in　the　wind　as　they　approached。　All　three　of　them　hesitated　outside　the　door。
　　　'Well；　e　on；'　said　Hermione；　slightly　nervously。　Harry　led　the　way　inside。
　　　It　was　not　at　all　like　the　Three　Broomsticks；　whose　large　bar　gave　an　impression　of　gleaming　warmth　and　cleanliness。　The　Hog's　Head　bar　prised　one　small；　dingy　and　very　dirty　room　that　smelled　strongly　of　something　that　might　have　been　goats。　The　bay　windows　were　so　encrusted　with　grime　that　very　little　daylight　could　permeate　the　room；　which　was　lit　instead　with　the　stubs　of　candles　sitting　on　rough　wooden　tables。　The　floor　seemed　at　first　glance　to　be　pressed　earth；　though　as　Harry　stepped　on　to　it　he　realised　that　there　was　stone　beneath　what　seemed　to　be　the　accumulated　filth　of　centuries。
　　　Harry　remembered　Hagrid　mentioning　this　pub　in　his　first　year：　'Yeh　get　a　lot　o'　funny　folk　in　the　Hogs　Head'　he　had　said；　explaining　how　he　had　won　a　dragon's　egg　from　a　hooded　stranger　there。　At　the　time　Harry　had　wondered　why　Hagrid　had　not　found　it　odd　that　the　stranger　kept　his　face　hidden　throughout　their　encounter；　now　he　saw　that　keeping　your　face　hidden　was　something　of　a　fashion　in　the　Hog's　Head。　There　was　a　man　at　the　bar　whose　whole　head　was　wrapped　in　dirty　grey　bandages；　though　he　was　still　managing　to　gulp　endless　glasses　of　some　smoking；　fiery　substance　through　a　slit　over　his　mouth；　two　figures　shrouded　in　hoods　sat　at　a　table　in　one　of　the　windows；　Harry　might　have　thought　them　Dementors　if　they　had　not　been　talking　in　strong　Yorkshire　accents；　and　in　a　shadowy　corner　beside　the　fireplace　sat　a　witch　with　a　thick；　black　veil　that　fell　to　her　toes。　They　could　just　see　the　tip　of　her　nose　because　it　caused　the　veil　to　protrude　slightly。
　　　'I　don't　know　about　this；　Hermione；'　Harry　muttered；　as　they　crossed　to　the　bar。　He　was　looking　particularly　at　the　heavily　veiled　witch。　'Has　it　occurred　to　you　Umbridge　might　be　under　that？'
　　　
　　　Hermione　cast　an　appraising　eye　over　the　veiled　figure。
　　　'Umbridge　is　shorter　than　that　woman；'　she　said　quietly。　'And　anyway；　even　if　Umbridge　does　e　in　here　there's　nothing　she　can　do　to　stop　us；　Harry；　because　I've　double…　and　triple…checked　the　school　rules。　We're　not　out　of　bounds；　I　specifically　asked　Professor　Flitwick　whether　students　were　allowed　to　e　in　the　Hog's　Head；　and　he　said　yes；　but　he　advised　me　strongly　to　bring　our　own　glasses。　And　I've　looked　up　everything　I　can　think　of　about　study　groups　and　homework　groups　and　they're　definitely　allowed。　I　just　don't　think　it's　a　good　idea　if　we　parade　what　we're　doing。'
　　　
　　　'No；'　said　Harry　dryly；　'especially　as　it's　not　exactly　a　homework　group　you're　planning；　is　it？'
　　　
　　　The　barman　sidled　towards　them　out　of　a　back　room。　He　was　a　grumpy…looking　old　man　with　a　great　deal　of　long　grey　hair　and　beard。　He　was　tall　and　thin　and　looked　vaguely　familiar　to　Harry。
　　　
　　　
　　　'What？'　he　grunted。
　　　Three　Butterbeers；　please；'　said　Hermione。
　　　The　man　reached　beneath　the　counter　and　pulled　up　three　very　dusty；　very　dirty　bottles；　which　he　slammed　on　the　bar。
　　　'Six　Sickles；'　he　said。
　　　I'll　get　them；'　said　Harry　quickly；　passing　over　the　silver。　The　barman's　eyes　travelled　over　Harry；　resting　for　a　fraction　of　a　second　on　his　scar。　Then　he　turned　away　and　deposited　Harry's　money　in　an　ancient　wooden　till　whose　drawer　slid　open　automatically　to　receive　it。　Harry；　Ron　and　Hermione　retreated　to　the　furthest　table　from　the　bar　and　sat　down；　looking　around。　The　man　in　the　dirty　grey　bandages　rapped　the　counter　with　his　knuckles　and　received　another　smoking　drink　from　the　barman。
　　　'You　know　what？'　Ron　murmured；　looking　over　at　the　bar　with　enthusiasm。　'We　could　order　anything　we　liked　in　here。　I　bet　that　bloke　would　sell　us　anything；　he　wouldn't　care。　I've　always　wanted　to　try　Firewhisky　…'
　　　
　　　'You　…　are　…　a　…　prefect；'　snarled　Hermione。
　　　'Oh；'　said　Ron；　the　smile　fading　from　his　face。　'Yeah：'
　　　
　　　'So；　who　did　you　say　is　supposed　to　be　meeting　us？'　Harry　asked；　wrenching　open　the　rusty　top　of　his　Butterbeer　and　taking　a　swig。
　　　'Just　a　couple　of　people；'　Hermione　repeated；　checking　her　watch　and　looking　anxiously　towards　the　door。　'I　told　them　to　be　here　about　now　and　I'm　sure　they　all　know　where　it　is　…　oh；　look；　this　might　be　them　now。'
　　　
　　　The　door　of　the　pub　had　opened。　A　thick　band　of　dusty　sunlight　split　the　room　in　two　for　a　moment　and　then　vanished；　blocked　by　the　ining　rush　of　a　crowd　of　people。
　　　First　came　Neville　with　Dean　and　Lavender；　who　were　closely　followed　by　Parvati　and　Padma　Patil　with　（Harry's　stomach　did　a　back…flip）　Cho　and　one　of　her　usually…giggling　girlfriends；　then　（on　her　own　and　looking　so　dreamy　she　might　have　walked　in　by　accident）　Luna　Lovegood；　then　Katie　Bell；　Alicia　Spinnet　and　Angelina　Johnson；　Colin　and　Dennis　Creevey；　Ernie　Macmillan；　Justin　Finch…Fletchley；　Hannah　Abbott；　a　Hufflepuff　girl　with　a　long　plait　down　her　back　whose　name　Harry　did　not　know；　three　Ravenclaw　boys　he　was　pretty　sure　were　called　Anthony　Goldstein；　Michael　Corner　and　Terry　Boot；　Ginny；　closely　followed　by　a　tall　skinny　blond　boy　with　an　upturned　nose　whom　Harry　recognised　vaguely　as　being　a　member　of　the　Hufflepuff　Quidditch　team　and；　bringing　up　the　rear；　Fred　and　George　Weasley　with　their　friend　Lee　Jordan；　all　three　of　whom　were　carrying　large　paper　bags　crammed　with　Z