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第8章 暗夜诡梦

‘Mr. Dick,’ said my aunt, ‘what shall I do with this child?’

‘Ward forty-nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting your time,’ said the witch dismissively. ‘He's completely addled, you know—still thinks he's a teapot. Next!’

‘It wasn't that,’ said Harry, shaking his head, ‘it was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me.’

‘Mr. Spenlow,’ said Tiffey.

‘Well, the game is up,’ he said simply. ‘Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius —or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?’

‘Let her sleep,’ said George hastily. It was a few moments before Harry noticed that several of the first-years gathered around them bore unmistakeable signs of recent nosebleeds.

‘No, thank you, sir,’ I repeated.

‘Mama has been dead ever since I was born,’ she said, in her

‘Sister Clarissa,’ said Miss Lavinia, ‘the rest is with you.’