第7节

ancegesturingtohimfromoverbesidethestatue.Harryhastenedtojointhem.

“Yougotinallright，then?”HermionewhisperedtoHarry.

“No，he’sstillstuckinthehog，”saidRon.

“Oh，veryfunny…It’shorrible，isn’tit?”shesaidtoHarry，whowasstaringupatthestatue.“Haveyouseenwhatthey’resittingon?”

Harrylookedmorecloselyａｎｄrealizedthatwhathehadthoughtweredecorativelycarvedthroneswereactuallymoundsofcarvedhumans:hundredsａｎｄhundredsofnakedbodies，men，women，ａｎｄchildren，allwithratherstupid，uglyfaces，twistedａｎｄpressedtogethertosupporttheweightofthehａｎｄsomelyrobedwizards.

“Muggles，”whisperedHermione，“Intheirrightfulplace.Comeon，let’sgetgoing.”

Theyjoinedthestreamofwitchesａｎｄwizardsmovingtowardthegoldengatesattheendofthehall，lookingaroundassurreptitiouslyaspossible，buttherewasnosignofthedistinctivefigureofDoloresUmbridge.Theypassedthroughthegatesａｎｄintoasmallerhall，wherequeueswereforminginfrontoftwentygoldengrilleshousingasmanylifts.Theyhadbarelyjoinedthenearestonewhenavoicesaid，“Cattermole!”

Theylookedaround:Harry’sstomachturnedover.OneoftheDeathEaterswhohadwitnessedDumbledore’sdeathwasstridingtowardthem.TheMinistryworkersbesidethemfellsilent，theireyesdowncast;Harrycouldfeelfearripplingthroughthem.Theman’sscowling，slightlybrutishfacewassomehowatoddswithhismagnificent，sweepingrobes，whichwereembroideredwithmuchgoldthread.Someoneinthecrowdaroundtheliftscalledsycophantically，“Morning，Yaxley!”Yaxleyignoredthem.

“IrequestedsomebodyfromMagicalMaintenancetosortoutmyoffice，Cattermole.It’sstillraininginthere.”

Ronlookedaroundasthoughhopingsomebodyelsewouldintervene，butnobodyspoke.

“Raining…inyouroffice?That’s–that’snotgood，isit?”

Rongaveanervouslaugh.Yaxley’seyeswidened.

“Youthinkit’sfunny，Cattermole，doyou?”

Apairofwitchesbrokeawayfromthequeuefortheliftａｎｄbustledoff.

“No，”saidRon，“no，ofcourse–“

“YourealizethatIamonmywaydownstairstointerrogateyourwife，Cattermole?Infact，I’mquitesurprisedyou’renotdownthereholdingherhａｎｄwhileshewaits.Alreadygivenherupasabadjob，haveyou?Probablywise.Besureａｎｄmarryapurebloodnexttime.”

Hermionehadletoutalittlesqueakofhorror.Yaxleylookedather.Shecoughfeeblyａｎｄturnedaway.

“I–I–“stammeredRon.

“ButifmywifewereaccusedofbeingaMudblood，”saidYaxley，“—notthatanywomanImarriedwouldeverbemistakenforsuchfilth–ａｎｄtheHeadofDepartmentofMagicalLawEnforcementneededajobdoing，Iwouldmakeitmyprioritytodothisjob，Cattermole.Doyouunderstａｎｄme?”

“Yes，”whisperedRon.

“Thenattendtoit，Cattermole，ａｎｄifmyofficeisnotcompletelydrywithinanhour，yourwife’sBloodStatuswillbeinevengreaterdoubtthanitisnow.”

Thegoldengrillebeforethemclatteredopen.WithanodａｎｄunpleasantsmiletoHarry，whowasevidentlyexpectedtoappreciatethistreatmentofCattermole，Yaxleysweptawaytowardanotherlift.Harry，Ron，ａｎｄHermioneenteredtheirs，butnobodyfollowedthem:Itwasasiftheywereinfectious.Thegrillesshutwithaclangａｎｄtheliftbegantomoveupward.

“WhatamIgoingtodo?”Ronaskedtheothertwoatonce;helookedstricken.“IfIdon’tturnup，mywife…Imean，Cattermole’swife–“

“We’llcomewithyou，weshouldsticktogether–“beganHarry，butRonshookhisheadfeverishly.

“That’smental，wehaven’tgotmuchtime.YoutwofindUmbridge，I’llgoａｎｄsortoutYaxley’soffice–buthowdoIstoparaining?”