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熊猫国际娱乐平台注册

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"It's nothing," he said. "Id better get going, Hagrid, it's Transfiguration next and I've got to pick up my books."

Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve.

`I mean that this diary holds memories of terrible things. Things that were covered up. Things that happened at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "

"Percy," Ron corrected him automatically.

*241*

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"Stomachache," Ron grunted.

Harry walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, treading on a few loose pages of Travels with Trolls. As he and Neville pulled the blankets back onto his bed, Ron, Dean, and Seamus came in. Dean swore loudly.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Ron's nose.

Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Harry had never written.

The pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Harry saw that the little square for June thirteenth seemed to have turned into a miniscule television screen. His hands trembling slightly, he raised the book to press his eye against the little window, and before he knew what was happening, he was tilting forward; the window was widening, he felt his body leave his bed, and he was pitched headfirst through the opening in the page, into a whirl of color and shadow.

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"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours' time.

In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became

"He knew it was me," Harry told Ron and Hermione as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "I could tell."

"It was about here," said Ron, recovering himself to walk a few paces past Filch's chair and pointing. "Level with this door."

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"What're you doing down here?" said Ron in surprise.

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"Did you get them?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

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"Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?"

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"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Harry, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?",

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Wondering what Malfoy was going to show them, Harry and Ron sat down, doing their best to look at home.;

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