House With A Good View3

『壹』 哈利波特3阿兹卡班的囚徒中的经典语句~~【至少10句】

哈利跟卢平教授学习守护神魔咒的那段，哈利需要快乐的回忆的那部分，特别感人啊！！！
At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harry left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with his wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Lupin turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Binn's desk.

“What's that?” said Harry.

“Another Boggart,” said Lupin, stripping off his cloak. “I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like.”

“Okay,” said Harry, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Lupin had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor.

“So…” Professor Lupin had taken out his own wand, and indicated that Harry should do the same. “The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harry — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm.”

“How does it work?” said Harry nervously.

“Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus,” said Lupin, “which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor.”

Harry had a sudden vision of himself crouching behind a Hagrid-sized figure holding a large club. Professor Lupin continued, “The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harry, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it.”

“What does a Patronus look like?” said Harry curiously.

“Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it.”

“And how do you conjure it?”

“With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory.”

Harry cast his mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dursleys’ was going to do. Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden a broomstick.

“Right,” he said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of his stomach.

“The incantation is this —” Lupin cleared his throat. “Expecto patronum!”

“Expecto patronum,” Harry repeated under his breath, “expecto patronum.”

“Concentrating hard on your happy memory?”

“Oh — yeah —” said Harry, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first broom ride. “Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum”

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

“Did you see that?” said Harry excitedly. “Something happened!”

“Very good,” said Lupin, smiling. “Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?”

“Yes,” Harry said, gripping his wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding…Any second now, he might hear his mother again…but he shouldn't think that, or he would hear her again, and he didn't want to…or did he?

Lupin grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harry, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harry, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over him —

“Expecto patronum!” Harry yelled. “Expecto patronum! Expecto —”

But the classroom and the Dementor were dissolving…Harry was falling again through thick white fog, and his mother's voice was louder than ever, echoing inside his head — “Not Harry! Not Harry! Please — I'll do anything —”

“Stand aside — stand aside, girl —”

“Harry!”

Harry jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn't have to ask what had happened.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind his glasses.

“Are you all right?” said Lupin.

“Yes…” Harry pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.

“Here —” Lupin handed him a Chocolate Frog. “Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had.”

“It's getting worse,” Harry muttered, biting off the Frog's head. “I could hear her louder that time — and him — Voldemort —”

Lupin looked paler than usual.

“Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand —”

“I do!” said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. “I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!”

“All right then…” said Lupin. “You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on…That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough…”

Harry thought hard and decided his feelings when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. He gripped his wand tightly again and took up his position in the middle of the classroom.

“Ready?” said Lupin, gripping the box lid.

“Ready,” said Harry; trying hard to fill his head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened.

“Go!” said Lupin, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harry —

“Expecto patronum!” Harry yelled. “Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat —”

White fog obscured his senses…big, blurred shapes were moving around him…then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking —

“Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off —”

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door bursting open — a cackle of high- pitched laughter —

“Harry! Harry…wake up…”

Lupin was tapping Harry hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harry understood why he was lying on a sty classroom floor.

“I heard my dad,” Harry mumbled. “That's the first time I've ever heard him — he tried to take on Voldemort himself, to give my mum time to run for it…”

Harry suddenly realized that there were tears on his face mingling with the sweat. He bent his face as low as possible, wiping them off on his robes, pretending to do up his shoelace, so that Lupin wouldn't see.

“You heard James?” said Lupin in a strange voice.

“Yeah…” Face dry, Harry looked up. “Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?”

“I — I did, as a matter of fact,” said Lupin. “We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced…I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…”

“No!” said Harry. He got up again. “I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is…hang on…”

He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory…one that he could turn into a good, strong Patronus.…

The moment when he'd first found out he was a wizard, and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn't a happy memory, he didn't know what was…Concentrating very hard on how he had felt when he'd realized he'd be leaving Privet Drive, Harry got to his feet and faced the packing case once more.

“Ready?” said Lupin, who looked as though he were doing this against his better judgment. “Concentrating hard? All right — go!”

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark —

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry bellowed. “EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The screaming inside Harry's head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again…and he could still see the Dementor…it had halted…and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harry's wand, to hover between him and the Dementor, and though Harry's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet — though for how much longer, he wasn't sure…

“Riddikulus!” roared Lupin, springing forward.

There was a loud crack, and Harry's cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, and felt his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Professor Lupin forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

“Excellent!” Lupin said, striding over to where Harry sat. “Excellent, Harry! That was definitely a start!”

“Can we have another go? Just one more go?”

“Not now,” said Lupin firmly. “You've had enough for one night. Here —”

He handed Harry a large bar of Honeykes’ best chocolate.

“Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?”

“Okay,” said Harry. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Lupin extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him.

“Professor Lupin?” he said. “If you knew my dad, you must've known Sirius Black as well.”

Lupin turned very quickly.

“What gives you that idea?” he said sharply.

“Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…”

Lupin's face relaxed.

“Yes, I knew him,” he said shortly. “Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, Harry, it's getting late.”

Harry left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn't mentioned Black, as Lupin was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Harry's thoughts wandered back to his mother and father …

He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents’ last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Harry had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he'd never be able to proce a proper Patronus if he half wanted to hear his parents again …

“They're dead,” he told himself sternly. “They're dead and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup.”

He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

希望能帮到你啊！！！