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哈利波特與魔法石The Boy Who Lived (三)

所屬教程:哈利波特與魔法石

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Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.

He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

“The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard—”

“— yes, their son, Harry—”

Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if he'd had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks…

He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.

“Sorry,” he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, “Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!”

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw — and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes.

“Shoo!” said Mr. Dursley loudly.

The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.

  杜斯利先生喜歡在他九樓的辦公室里背靠著墻坐著。如果不這樣做的話,他會覺得整個上午都無法集中精神做事。他從來沒在大白天見過貓頭鷹飛過,但是有人在街上看到了。他們回頭指著,目瞪口呆地看著一只接一只的貓頭鷹從頭頂飛過。

  還好,杜斯利先生那天早上沒見著一只貓頭鷹,一切都很正常。他沖五個不同的人發(fā)了脾氣。他打了幾個重要的電話并在電話里嚷了一通。直到午飯時他的心情都還不錯,那時他想到自己應(yīng)該活動活動筋骨了,于是走到面包店給自己買了一個面包圈。

  他幾乎都快忘掉那些穿著被風(fēng)的人了。但是當(dāng)他走過面包店隔壁時,那群人又出現(xiàn)了。杜斯利先生生氣地瞪了他們一眼。他不知道為什么自己要這樣做,可能是那群人讓他覺得不妥。那群人還在低聲興奮地談話,可是這次杜斯利先生沒再看到一只募款箱。在他拿著面包往回走又經(jīng)過他們時,他依稀聽到一些他們談話的內(nèi)容。

  "波特一家,沒錯,我聽到的就是這個名字。""一定的,他們的兒子,哈利——"

  杜斯利先生僵住了。害怕緊緊地攫住了他。他回過頭看著那群人想跟他們說些什么,可是又不知道說什么好。

  他沖過馬路,小跑回到辦公室。囑咐他的秘書不要打攪他,然后抓起電話就往家里打。打著打著,他突然改變主意了。他放下電話,撫弄了一下自己的胡子,陷入沉思。不,他太傻了。波特不過是個普通的名字。他肯定不只一個人叫波特并且他的兒子叫做哈利。想到這里,他甚至無法肯定他的侄兒是不是叫哈利。畢竟他從來沒見過他??赡芩泄S爾,又或者叫哈羅德,沒有必要再去煩太太了,她一提到她妹妹就要嘆氣。這也不能怪她,如果杜斯利有個妹妹像她……不管怎么樣,那些穿著被風(fēng)的人……

  他覺得整個下午都很難集中精力干活。當(dāng)他五點鐘離開辦公室時,甚至擔(dān)心自己一出門就會撞到什么人似的。

  "對不起。"他咕噥著,面前站著一個踉踉蹌蹌的幾乎要跌倒的矮老頭。幾秒鐘后,杜斯利先生才發(fā)覺這個人穿著一件紫色的披風(fēng)。他看上去對幾乎被撞倒在地毫不介意。相反,他咧開嘴笑,并且用一種讓旁人側(cè)目的尖嗓子說話,"不要覺得抱歉,先生,今天沒有任何事會惹惱我。只有開心!你知道最后誰離開了嗎?像你這樣的馬格人都應(yīng)該重視這個開心的日子!"這個老人給了杜斯利先生一個只到腰間的擁抱,然后走開了。

  杜斯利先生定在了原地。他被一個陌生人擁抱,并且居然被叫作馬格人,他被惹火了。他迅速地鉆進(jìn)車內(nèi)往家趕,希望這一切不過是幻覺——而在這以前他是從來不相信有幻覺存在的。

  當(dāng)?shù)伛Y入四號馳車道時,映入眼簾的第一件東西——這絲毫沒有讓他心情好轉(zhuǎn)——是他早上看到的那只貓。那只貓現(xiàn)在正在他的花園圍墻上。他可以肯定是同一只貓,因為它們的眼睛周圍有著一樣的花紋。

  "噓!"杜斯利先生嚷道。

  那只貓沒動。它又是冷冷地看了他一眼。這是一只貓的行為嗎?杜斯利先生覺得很迷惑。為了試著讓自己振作起來,他走進(jìn)了房子。他仍然決定對妻子只字不提今天的事。

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