Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
to kill. Without knowing what he was doing, he started forwards, but there was a sudden movement on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back. ‘No, Harry!’ Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.
‘If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us, too!’ he said fiercely, though the effort of standing up had drained him of still more colour, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.
Something flickered in Black’s shadowed eyes.
‘Lie down,’ he said quietly to Ron. ‘You will damage that leg even more.’
‘Did you hear me?’ Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. ‘You’ll have to kill all three of us!’
‘There’ll only be one murder here tonight,’ said Black, and his grin widened.
‘Why’s that?’ Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron and Hermione. ‘Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew … What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?’
‘Harry!’ Hermione whimpered. ‘Be quiet!’
‘HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!’ Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Hermione and Ron’s restraint and lunged forwards –
He had forgotten about magic – he had forgotten that he was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown man. All Harry knew was that he wanted to hurt Black as badly as he could and that he didn’t care how much he got hurt in return …
Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn’t raise the wands in time. One of Harry’s hands fastened over Black’s wasted wrist, forcing the wandtips away; the knuckles of Harry’s other hand collided with the side of Black’s head and they fell, backwards, into the wall –
Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black’s hand sent into the air a jet of sparks which missed Harry’s face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find.
But Black’s free hand had found Harry’s throat –
‘No,’ he hissed. ‘I’ve waited too long –’
The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew.
Then he saw Hermione’s foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain. Ron had thrown himself on Black’s wand hand and Harry heard a faint clatter –
He fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw his own wand rolling across the floor; he threw himself towards it but –
‘Argh!’
Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry’s arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted towards Harry’s wand –
‘NO YOU DON’T!’ roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned –
‘Get out of the way!’ he shouted at Ron and Hermione.
They didn’t need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron’s wands. Ron crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg.
Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black’s heart.
‘Going to kill me, Harry?’ he whispered.
Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black’s chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black’s left eye and his nose was bleeding.
‘You killed my parents,’ said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.
Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.
‘I don’t deny it,’ he said, very quietly. ‘But if you knew the whole story –’
‘The whole story?’ Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. ‘You sold them to Voldemort, that’s all I need to know! ’
‘You’ve got to listen to me,’ Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. ‘You’ll regret it if you don’t … you don’t understand …’
‘I understand a lot better than you think,’ said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. ‘You never heard her, did you? My mum … trying to stop Voldemort killing me … and you did that … you did it …’
Before either of them could say another word,
Weitere Kostenlose Bücher