Harry was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when he heard another pair of angry voices coming from the parlor. A second later, he recognized them as Mr. and Mrs.
Weasleys'. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he'd heard them
arguing, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer
to the parlor door.
"--makes no sense not to tell him," Mr. Weasley was saying
heatedly. "Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he
insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and --"
"Arthur, the truth would terrify him!" said Mrs. Weasley shrilly.
"Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over
him? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing!"
"I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his
guard!" retorted Mr. Weasley. "You know what Harry and Ron are like,
wandering off by themselves -- they've ended up in the Forbidden Forest
twice! But Harry mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have
happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus
hadn't picked him up, I'm prepared to bet he would have been dead before
the Ministry found him."
"But he's not dead, he's fine, so what's the point
"Molly, they say Sirius Black's mad, and maybe he is, but he was
clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that's supposed to be
impossible. It's been three weeks, and no one's seen hide nor hair of
him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we're
no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only
thing we know for sure is what Black's after
"But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts."
"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."
"But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry
There was a thud on wood, and Harry was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.
"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report
it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out
to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Blacks
been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's
at Hogwarts... he's at Hogwarts.' Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants
Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring
You-Know-Who back to pow er. Black lost everything the night Harry
stopped You- Know-Who, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to
brood on that...."
There was a silence. Harry leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.
"Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're
forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at
Hogwarts while Dumbledore's headmaster. I suppose he knows about all
this?"
"Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban
guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds.
He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."
"Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Black?"
"Dumbledore isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr. Weasley
heavily. "Nor am 1, if it comes to that... but when you're dealing with a
wizard like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd
rather avoid."
"If they save Harry then I will never say another word against
them, said Mr. Weasley wearily. "It's late, Molly, we'd better go
up...."
Harry heard chairs move. As quietly as he could, he hurried down
the passage to the bar and out of sight. The parlor door opened, and a
few seconds later footsteps told him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were
climbing the stairs.
The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at
earlier. Harry waited until he heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's bedroom
door close, then headed back upstairs with the bottle.
Fred and George were crouching in the shadows on the landing,
heaving with laughter as they listened to Percy dismantling his and
Ron's room in search of his badge.
"We've got it," Fred whispered to Harry. "We've been improving it."
The badge now read Bighead Boy.
Harry forced a laugh, went to give Ron the rat tonic, then shut himself in his room and lay down on his bed.
So Sirius Black was after him. This explained everything. Fudge
had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find him alive.
He'd made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty
of wizards to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars
to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasleys could
look after Harry until he was on the train.
Harry lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and
wondered why he didn't feel more scared. Sirius Black had murdered
thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs, Weasley obviously thought
Harry would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But Harry happened
to agree wholeheartedly with Mrs. Weasley that the safest place on earth
was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be. Didn't people always say
that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid
of? Surely Black, as Voldemort's right-hand man, would be just as
frightened of him?
And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking
about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were
stationed all around the school, Black's chances of getting inside
seemed very remote.
No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harry most was the fact
that his chances of visiting Hogsmeade now looked like zero. Nobody
would want Harry to leave the safety of the castle until Black was
caught; in fact, Harry suspected his every move would be carefully
watched until the danger had passed.
He scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think he couldn't look
after himself? He'd escaped Lord Voldemort three times; he wasn't
completely useless....
Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia
Crescent crossed his mind. What to do when you know the worst is
coming...
"I'm not going to be murdered," Harry said out loud.
"That's the spirit, dear," said his mirror sleepily.wahać się - hesitate
gorąco(dyskutować) - say heatedly
nalegać na - insist on
przeraźliwie - shrilly
wiszące to nad nim (problemy) - that hanging over him
na miłość boską - for heaven's sake
przygnębiony - miserable
ripostować - retort
riposta - retort
włóczyć się - wander
odłączać, oddalać się - wander
skończyć gdzieś - end up
uciekać - run away
w czym rzecz - what's the point
zmyślać - invent
łomot - thud
uderzyć pięścią o stół - bang fist on the table
obłąkany - deranged
rozmyślać o tym - brood on that
pochylić się - lean
zdesperowany - desperate
czuły na - fond of
ani - nor
korytarz - passage
skierować się z powrotem gdzieś - head back
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