Shadowing Practice: 10. The Marauder's Map - Learn English Speaking with Video
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Chapter 10.
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The Marauder's Map.
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Madame Pomfrey insisted on keeping
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Harry in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend.
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He didn't argue or complain, but he wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of his Nimbus 2000.
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He knew he was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Harry couldn't help it.
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He felt as though he'd lost one of his best friends.
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He had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering him up.
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Hagrid sent him a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages, and Ginny Weasley, blushing furiously,
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turned up with a get -well card she had made herself, which sang shrilly unless Harry kept it shut under his bowl of fruit.
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The Gryffindor team visited again on Saturday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Harry, in a hollow,
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dead sort of voice, that he didn't blame him in the slightest.
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Ron and Hermione left
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Harry's bedside only at night, but nothing anyone said or did could make
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Harry feel any better, because they knew only half of what was troubling him.
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He hadn't told anyone about the Grimm, not even Ron and Hermione, because he knew Ron would panic, and Hermione would scoff.
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The fact remained, however, that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near -fatal accidents.
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The first time he had nearly been run over by the night bus, the second fallen fifty feet from his broomstick.
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Was the Grimm going to haunt him until he actually died?
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Was he going to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for the beast?
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And then there were the Dementors.
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Harry felt sick and humiliated every time he thought of them.
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Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one.
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No one else heard echoes in the head of their dying parents because Harry knew who that screaming voice belonged to now.
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He had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while he lay awake,
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staring up at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling.
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When the Dementors approached him, he heard the last moments of his mother's life, her attempts to protect him,
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Harry, from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort's laughter before he murdered her.
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Harry dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake to dwell again on his mother's voice.
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It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where he was forced to think about other things,
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even if he had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting.
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Malfoy was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat.
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He had finally taken off his bandages
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and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Harry falling off his broom.
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Malfoy spent much of their next potions class, doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon.
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Ron finally cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy,
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which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.
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If Snape's teaching defense against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off, said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch.
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Check who's in there, Hermione.
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Hermione peered around the classroom door.
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It's okay!
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Professor Lupin was back at work.
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It certainly looked as though he had been ill.
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His old robes were hanging more loosely on him, and there were dark shadows beneath the eyes.
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Nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats,
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and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior where Lupin had been ill.
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It's not fair.
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He was only feeling in.
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Why should he give us homework?
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We don't know anything about werewolves.
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Two rolls of parchment!
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Did you tell
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Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?
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Lupin asked, frowning slightly.
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The babble broke out again.
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Yes, but he said we were really behind.
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He wouldn't listen.
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Two rolls of parchment!
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Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.
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Don't worry.
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I'll speak to Professor Snape.
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You don't have to do that essay.
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Oh no, said Hermione, looking very disappointed.
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I've already finished it.
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They had a very enjoyable lesson.
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Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a hinky punk,
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a little one -legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless -looking.
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Lur's travellers into bogs, said
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Professor Lupin as they took notes.
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You notice the lantern dangling from his hand.
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Hops ahead.
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People follow the light.
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Then...
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The hinky -punk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.
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When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door.
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Harry among them. But...
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Wait a moment, Harry, Lupin called.
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I'd like a word.
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Harry doubled back and watched
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Professor Lupin covering the hinky -punk's box with a cloth.
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I heard about the match, said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase.
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And I'm sorry about your broomstick.
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Is there any chance of fixing it?
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No, said Harry.
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The tree smashed it to bits.
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Lupin sighed.
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They planted the whopping willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts.
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People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk.
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In the end, a boy called Davy Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it.
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No broomstick would have a chance.
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Did you hear about the Dementos too? said
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Harry with difficulty.
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Lupin looked at him quickly.
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Yes, I did.
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I don't think any of us have seen
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Professor Dumbledore that angry.
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They've been growing restless for some time, furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds.
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I suppose they were the reason you fell.
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Yes, said Harry.
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He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself.
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Why?
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Why do they affect me like that?
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Am I just— It has nothing to do with weakness, said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Harry's mind.
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The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have.
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A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's gray hairs and the lines on his young face.
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Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth.
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They infest the darkest, filthiest places.
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They glory and decay and despair.
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They drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them.
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Even muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them.
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Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you.
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If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself, soulless and evil.
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You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.
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And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom.
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You have nothing to feel ashamed of.
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When they can get near me, Harry stared at Lupin's desk, his throat tight.
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I can hear Voldemort muttering my mom.
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Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm, as if to grip
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Harry's shoulder but thought better of it.
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There was a moment's silence.
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Then, why did they have to come to the match? said Harry bitterly.
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They're getting hungry, said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap.
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Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up.
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I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Crittich Field.
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All that excitement, emotions running high.
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It was their idea of a feast.
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"'Ascobad must be terrible,' Harry muttered.
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Lupin nodded grimly.
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"'The fortress is set on a tiny island way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in,
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not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought.
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Most of them go mad within weeks.' "'But Sirius Black escaped from them,' Harry said slowly.
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"'He got away.' Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk.
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He had to stoop quickly to catch it.
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Yes, he said, straightening up.
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Black must have found a way to fight them.
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I wouldn't have believed it possible.
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Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long.
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You made that Dementor off the train back off, said Harry suddenly.
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There are certain defenses one can use, said Lupin.
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But there is only one Dementor on the train.
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The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist.
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What defenses?
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Harry said at once.
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Can you teach me?
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I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry.
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Quite the contrary.
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But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them.
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Lupin looked into Harry's determined face, hesitated, then said, Well, all right.
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I'll try and help, but it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid.
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I have a lot to do before the holidays.
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I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.
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What with the promise of anti -Dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that he might never have to hear his mother's death again,
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and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in the Quidditch match at the end of November, Harry's mood took a definite upturn.
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Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match.
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Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December.
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Harry's are no hint of Dementor within the grounds.
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Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.
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Two weeks before the end of term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling opaline white,
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and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost.
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Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air.
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Professor Flitwick, the charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies.
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The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays.
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Both Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy,
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and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Harry wasn't fooled.
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They were doing it to keep him company, and he was very grateful.
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To everyone's delight except
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Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.
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We can do all our Christmas shopping there, said Hermione.
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Mum and Dad would really love those two -flossing string mints from Honeydukes.
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Resigned to the fact that he would be the only third year staying behind again,
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Harry borrowed a copy of Witch Broomstick from Wood and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes.
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He'd been riding one of the school brooms at team practice, an ancient shooting star which was very slow and jerky.
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He definitely needed a new broom of his own.
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On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry bid goodbye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves.
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Ben turned up to the marble staircase alone and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower.
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Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.
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Psst!
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Harry!
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He turned, halfway along the third -floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at him from behind a statue of a humpbacked,
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one -eyed witch.
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What are you doing? said Harry curiously.
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How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?
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We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go, said Fred with a mysterious wink.
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Come in here.
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He nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one -eyed statue.
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Harry followed Fred and George inside.
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George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming to look at Harry.
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Early Christmas present for you, Harry, he said.
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Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks.
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It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it.
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Harry, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, stared at it.
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What's that supposed to be?
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This, Harry, is the secret of our success, said George, patting the parchment fondly.
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It's a wrench giving it to you, said Fred, but we decided last night your needs greater than ours.
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Anyway, we know it by heart, said George.
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We bequeath it to you.
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We don't really need it anymore.
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And what do I need with a bit of old parchment, said Harry?
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A bit of old parchment, said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry had mortally offended him.
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Explain, George.
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Well, when we were in our first year, Harry, young, carefree, and innocent, Harry snorted.
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He doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent.
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Well, more innocent than we are now.
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We got into a spot of bother with filch.
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We let off a dung bomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason.
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So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual.
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Detention.
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Disembowelment.
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And we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.
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"'Don't tell me,' said
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Harry, starting to grin.
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"'Well, what would you have done?' said Fred.
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George caused a diversion by dropping another dung bomb.
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I whipped the drawer open and grabbed this.
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"'It's not as bad as it sounds, you know,' said George.
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"'We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it.
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"'He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it.' "'And how—and you know how to work it?' "'Oh, yes,' said Fred, smirking.
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"'This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school.' "'You're winding me up,' said
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Harry, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.
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"'How are we?' said George.
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He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' And at once,
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thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched.
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They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment.
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Then words began to blossom across the top, great curly green words that proclaimed, Mrs. Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,
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purveyors of aids to magical mischief makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map.
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It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds, but the truly remarkable thing were the tiny ink dots moving around it,
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each labeled with a name in minuscule writing.
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Astounded, Harry bent over it.
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A labeled dot on the top left corner showed that
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Professor Dumbledore was pacing in his study.
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The caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor, and Peeves the poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room.
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And as Harry's eyes traveled up and down the familiar corridors, he noticed something else.
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This map showed a set of passages he had never entered, and many of them seemed to lead right into Hogsmeade,
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said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger.
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There are seven in all.
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Now, Filch knows about these four, he pointed them out, but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these.
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Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor.
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We used it until last winter, but it's caved in, completely blocked.
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And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance.
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But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of our honeydukes.
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We've used it loads of times.
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And as you might have noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one -eyed old crone's hump.
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Moony Wormtail Patfoot and Prongs, sighed George, patting the heading of the map.
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We owe them so much.
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"'Noble men working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers,' said Fred solemnly.
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"'Right,' said George briskly.
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"'Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it.' "'Or anyone can read it,' Fred said warningly.
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"'Just tap it again and say, "'Mischief managed,' and it'll go blank.' "'So, young Harry,' said Fred in an uncanny impersonation of Percy,
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"'mind you behave yourself.' "'See you in Honeydukes,' said George, winking.' They left the room both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.
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Harry stood there, gazing at the miraculous map.
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He watched the tiny ink Mrs. Norris turned left, and paused to snippet something on the floor.
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If Filch really didn't know, he wouldn't have to pass the dementals at all.
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But even as he stood there, fooled with excitement, flooded with excitement, something Harry had once heard Mr. Weasley say came floating out of his memory.
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Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain.
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This map was one of those dangerous magical objects Mr. Weasley had been warning against.
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Aids for magical mischief makers.
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But then, Harry reasoned.
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He only wanted to use it to get into Hogsmeade.
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It wasn't as though he wanted to steal anything or attack anyone.
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And Fred and George had been using it for years without anything horrible happening.
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Harry traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger.
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Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, he rolled up the map, stuffed it inside his robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom.
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He opened it a couple of inches.
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There was no one outside, and very carefully he edged out of the room and behind the statue of the one -eyed witch.
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What did he have to do?
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He pulled out the map again and saw, to his astonishment, that a new ink figure had appeared upon it, labeled Harry Potter.
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This figure was standing exactly where the real
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Harry was standing, about halfway down the third floor corridor.
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Harry watched carefully.
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His little ink self appeared to be tapping the witch with his minute wand.
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Harry quickly took out his real wand and tapped the statue.
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Nothing happened.
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He looked back at the map.
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The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to his figure.
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The word inside said, Descendium.
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Descendium, Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again.
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At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person.
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Harry glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forward.
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He slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on a cold, damp earth.
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He stood up, looking around.
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It was pitch dark.
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He held up his wand, muttered, Lumos! and saw that he was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway.
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He raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand, and muttered, Mischief managed!
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The map went blank at once.
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He followed it carefully, tucked it inside his robes, then, heart -beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, he set off.
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The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else.
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Harry hurried along it, stumbling now and then on an uneven floor, holding his wand out in front of him.
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It took ages, but Harry had the thought of honeydukes to sustain him.
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After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise.
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Panting, Harry sped up, his face hot, his feet very killed.
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Ten minutes later, he came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight above him.
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Careful not to make any noise, Harry began to climb.
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A hundred steps, two hundred steps.
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He lost count as he climbed, watching his feet.
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Then, without warning, his head hit something hard.
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It seemed to be a trap door.
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Harry stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening.
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He couldn't hear any sounds above him.
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Very slowly, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.
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He was in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes.
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Harry climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it.
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It blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there.
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Harry crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs.
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Now he could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.
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Wondering what he ought to do, he suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand.
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Somebody was about to come downstairs.
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And get another box of jelly slugs, dear.
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They've nearly cleaned us out, said a woman's voice.
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A pair of feet was coming down the staircase.
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Harry left behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass.
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He heard the man shifting boxes against the opposite wall.
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He might not get another chance.
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Quickly and silently, Harry dodged out from his hiding place and climbed the stairs.
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Looking back, he saw an enormous backside and a shiny bald head buried in a box.
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Harry reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it and found himself behind the counter of Honeydukes.
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He ducked, crept sideways, and then he straightened up.
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Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at Harry.
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He edged among them, looking around,
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and suppressed a laugh as he imagined the look that would spread over Dudley's piggy face if he could see where
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Harry was now.
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There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent -looking sweets imaginable.
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Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey -colored toffees, hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows.
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There was a large barrel of every -flavoured beans, and another of fizzing whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ron had mentioned.
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Along yet another wall were special effects sweets, Droobles' best -blowing gum, which filled a room with bluebell -coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days.
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The strange splintery tooth -flossing string mint, tiny black pepper imps.
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Breathe fire for your friends.
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Ice mice.
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Hear your teeth chatter and squeak.
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Peppermint creams shaped like toads.
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Hop realistically in the stomach like.
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Fragile sugar -spun quills and exploding bonbons.
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Harry squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth -years and saw a sign hanging from the farthest corner of the shop.
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Unusual tastes.
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Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood -flavored lollipops.
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Harry sneaked up behind them.
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Oh no!
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Harry won't want one of those.
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They're for vampires, I expect, Hermione was saying.
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How about these? said Ron, shoving a jar of cockroach clusters under Hermione's nose.
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Definitely not, said Harry.
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Ron nearly dropped the jar.
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Harry!
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squealed Hermione.
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What are you doing here?
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How did you...
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Wow!
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said Ron, looking very impressed.
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You've learned to apparate!
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"'Course I haven't,' said Harry.
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He dropped his voice so that none of the sixiers could hear him and told him all about the Marauder's Map.
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"'How come Fred and George never gave it to me?' said Ron, outraged.
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"'I'm their brother!' "'But Harry isn't going to keep it,' said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous.
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"'He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?' "'No, I'm not,' said Harry." "'Are you mad?' said Ron, goggling at Hermione.
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"'Hand in something that good!' If I hand it in, then I'll have to say where I got it.
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Fields would know Fred and George had nicked it.
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But what about Sirius Black?
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Hermione hissed.
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He could be using one of those passages on the map to get in the castle.
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The teachers have got to know.
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He can't be getting in through a passage, said Harry quickly.
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There are seven secret tunnels on the pass.
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On the map, right?
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Fred and George reckon
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Fields already knows about four of them.
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And of the other three, one of them is caved in, so no one can get through it.
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One of them's got the whomping willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it.
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And the one I just came through, well, it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar,
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so unless he knew it was down there.
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Harry hesitated.
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What if Black did know the passage was there?
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Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweet shop door.
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By order of the Ministry of Magic, customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown.
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This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents
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and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black.
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It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.
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Merry Christmas.
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See, said Ron quietly.
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I'd like to see
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Black try and break into Honeydukes with the Mentos swarming all over the village.
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Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break -in, wouldn't they?
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They live over this shop.
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Yes, but, but...
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Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem.
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Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade.
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He hasn't got a signed form.
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If anyone finds out, he'll mean so much trouble.
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And it's not nightfall yet.
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What if Sirius Black turns up today?
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Now?
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He'd have a job spotting
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Harry in this, said Ron, nodding through the mullion windows and at the thick, swirling snow.
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Come on, Hermione.
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It's Christmas.
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Harry deserves a break.
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Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.
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Are you going to report me?
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Harry asked, her grinning.
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Oh, of course not but honestly, Harry.
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Seen the fizzing whizbees, Harry, said Ron, grabbing him and leading him over to their barrel.
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And the jelly slugs.
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And the acid pops.
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Fred gave me one of those when I was seven.
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It burnt a hole right through my tongue.
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I remember mum walloping her with a broomstick.
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Ron stared broodingly into the acid pop box.
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Rick and Fred would take a bit of cockroach cluster if I told them they were peanuts.
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When Ron and Hermione had paid for all those sweets, the three of them left Honeydukes in the blizzard outside.
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Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card.
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The little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow.
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There were holly wreaths on the door and strings of enchanted candles, candles hanging in the trees.
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Harry shivered.
412
Unlike the other two, he didn't have his cloak.
413
They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.
414
That's the post office!
415
Zonkos is up there!
416
We could go up to the Shrieking Shack!
417
To tell you what, said Ron, his teeth chattering.
418
Shall we go for a butterbeer and a three broomsticks?
419
Harry was more than willing.
420
The wind was fierce and his hands were freezing, so they crossed the road and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.
421
It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky.
422
A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.
423
That's Madame Rose Murtaugh, said Ron.
424
I'll get the drinks, shall I?
425
He added, going slightly red.
426
Harry and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small,
427
vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace.
428
Ron came back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.
429
Merry Christmas, he said happily, raising his tankard.
430
Harry drank deeply.
431
It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted, and seemed to heat every bit of him from the inside.
432
A sudden breeze ruffled his hair.
433
The door of the three broomsticks had opened again.
434
Harry looked over the rim of his tankard and choked.
435
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid,
436
who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime -green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
437
In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's head
438
and forced him off his stool under the table.
439
Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harry clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers, and Fudge's feet moved toward the bar,
440
pause, then turn and walk right toward him.
441
Somewhere above him, Hermione whispered, Mabiliabas!
442
The Christmas tree beside the table rose a few inches off the ground,
443
drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of the table, hiding them from view.
444
Staring through the dense lower branches, Harry saw four seats of chair legs move back from the table,
445
right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.
446
Next, he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.
447
A small gillywater.
448
Mine, said Professor McGonagall's voice.
449
Four pints of mulled mead.
450
Ta, Rosemerta, said Hagrid.
451
A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella.
452
Mmm, said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.
453
So you'll be the red currant rum, minster.
454
Thank you, Rosemerta, my dear, said Fudge's voice.
455
Lovely to see you again, I must say.
456
Have one yourself, won't you?
457
Come and join us.
458
Well, thank you very much, Minister.
459
Harry watched the glittering heels march away and back again.
460
His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat.
461
Why hadn't it occurred to him that this was the last weekend of town for the teachers, too?
462
And how long were they going to sit there?
463
He needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if he wanted to return to the school tonight.
464
Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to him.
465
So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?
466
Came Matamoros Manta's voice.
467
Harry saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair, as though he were checking for eavesdroppers.
468
Then he said in a quiet voice, What else, my dear, but Sirius Black?
469
I dare say you had what happened up at the school at Halloween.
470
I did hear a rumor, admitted Madame Rosemata.
471
Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid? said
472
Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.
473
Do you think
474
Black's still in the area, Minister?
475
said Madame Rosemata.
476
I'm sure of it, said Fudge shortly.
477
You know that Dementors have searched the whole village twice, said Madame Rose Mater, a slight edge to a voice.
478
Scared all my customers away.
479
It's very bad for business, Minister.
480
Rose Mater, my dear.
481
I don't like them any more than you do, said Fudge uncomfortably.
482
Necessary precaution.
483
Unfortunate, but there you are.
484
I've just met some of them.
485
They're in a fury against Dumbledore.
486
He won't let them inside the castle grounds.
487
I should think not, said
488
Professor McGonagall sharply.
489
How are we supposed to teach with those horrors flying around?
490
Hear, hear, squeaked tiny
491
Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.
492
All the same, demurred Fudge, they are here to protect you all from something much worse.
493
We all know what
494
Black's capable of.
495
Do you know, I still have trouble believing it, said
496
Madame Rosemartha thoughtfully.
497
Of all the people to go over to the dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought.
498
I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts.
499
If you'd have told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd have too much to need.
500
"'You don't know the half of it, Rose Murta,' said Fudge gruffly.
501
"'The worst he did isn't widely known.' "'The worst!' said
502
Madame Rose Murta, her voice alive with curiosity.
503
"'Worst than muttering all those poor people, you mean?' "'I certainly do,' said Fudge.
504
"'I can't believe that.
505
What could possibly be worse?' "'You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rose Murta,' muttered Professor McGonagall.
506
"'Do you remember who his best friend was?' "'Naturally,' said
507
Madame Rose Murta with a small laugh.
508
"'Never saw one without the other, did you?
509
"'The number of times I had them in here.
510
"'Oh, they used to make me laugh.
511
"'Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter.' Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk.
512
Ron kicked him.
513
"'Precisely,' said Professor McGonagall.
514
"'Black and Potter, ringleaders of their little gang.
515
"'Both very bright, of course.
516
"'Exceptionably, exceptionally bright.
517
"'In fact, but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers.
518
I don't know, chuckled Hagrid.
519
Fred and George Weasley could give him a run for their money.
520
You'd have thought
521
Black and Potter were brothers, chimed in Professor Flitwick.
522
Inseparable.
523
Of course they were, said Fudge.
524
Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends.
525
Nothing changed when they left the school.
526
Black was best man when James married Lily.
527
Then they named him Godfather to Harry.
528
Harry has no idea, of course.
529
You can imagine how the idea would torment him.
530
Because Black turned out to be in league with you -know -who, whispered Matamoros Martyr.
531
Worse than even that, my dear.
532
Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a low sort of rumble.
533
Not many people are aware that the potters knew you -know -who was after them.
534
Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against you -know -who, had a number of useful spies.
535
One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once.
536
He advised them to go into hiding.
537
Well, of course, you -know -who wasn't an easy person to hide from.
538
Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius charm.
539
How does that work? said
540
Madame Rosamante, breathless with interest.
541
Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.
542
An immensely complex spell, he said squeakily, involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single living soul.
543
The information is hidden inside the chosen person or secret keeper and is henceforth impossible to find, unless, of course, the secret keeper chooses to divulge
544
it as long as the secret keeper refuses to speak you know who could search the village where lily
545
and james were staying for years and never find them not even
546
if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window
547
So, Black was this
548
Potter's secret keeper, whispered Madame Rosemarthe.
549
Naturally, said Professor McGonagall.
550
James Potter told Dumbledore that
551
Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself.
552
And yet, Dumbledore remained worried.
553
I remember him offering to be the Potter's secret keeper himself.
554
He suspected Black, gasped Madame Rosemarthe.
555
He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping you -know -who informed of their movements, said Professor McGonagall darkly.
556
Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor
557
and was passing a lot of information to you -know -who.
558
But James Potter insisted on using Black.
559
He did, said Fudge heavily, and then barely a week after the Fidelius charm had been performed.
560
Black betrayed them, breathed
561
Madame Rose Murta.
562
He did indeed.
563
Black was tired of his double agent role.
564
He was ready to declare his support openly for you -know -who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potter's death.
565
But, as we all know, you -know -who met his downfall in little Harry Potter.
566
Powers gone horribly weakened, he fled.
567
And this left
568
Black in a very nasty position indeed.
569
His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colours as a traitor.
570
He had no choice but to run for it.
571
Filthy stinking turncoat, Hagrid said so loudly that half the bar went quiet.
572
Shh, said Professor McGonagall.
573
I met him, growled Hagrid.
574
I must have been the last to see him before he killed all them people.
575
It was me what rescued
576
Harry from Lily and James' house after they was killed.
577
Just got him out of the ruins, poor little thing.
578
With a great slash across his forehead, and his parents dead.
579
And Sirius Black turns up on that flying motorbike he used to ride.
580
Never occurred to me what he was doing there.
581
I didn't know he'd been Lily and James' secret keeper.
582
Thought he'd just heard the news of you -know -who's a tech, and come to see what I could do.
583
White and shaken he was.
584
And you know what I did?
585
I comforted the murder and traitor.
586
Hagrid roared.
587
Hagrid, please, said Professor McGonagall.
588
Keep your voice down.
589
Who was I to know he wasn't upset about Lily and James?
590
It was you know who he care about.
591
And then he says, give
592
Harry to me, Hagrid.
593
I'm his godfather.
594
I looked after him.
595
But I had me orders from Dumbledore, and I told
596
Black no. Dumbledore said
597
Harry was to go to his aunt and uncles.
598
Black argued, but in the end he gave in.
599
Told me to take his motorbike to get Harry there.
600
I won't need it anymore, he says.
601
I should have known there was something fishy going on then.
602
He loved that motorbike.
603
What was he giving it to me for?
604
Why wouldn't he need it anymore?
605
Fact was, it was too easy to trace.
606
Dumbledore knew he'd been the Potter's secret keeper.
607
Black knew he was going to have to run for it that night.
608
Knew it was a matter of hours before the Ministry was after him.
609
But what if I'd have given
610
Harry to him, eh?
611
I bet he'd pitch them off the bike halfway out to sea.
612
His best friend's own son.
613
But when a wizard goes over to the dark side, there's nothing and no one that matters to them anymore.
614
A long silence followed Hagrid's story.
615
Then Madame Rose Matus said with some satisfaction, But he didn't manage to disappear, did he?
616
The Ministry of Magic caught up with him the next day.
617
Alas, if only we'd had, said Fudge bitterly.
618
It was not we who found him.
619
It was little
620
Peter Pettigrew, another of the Potter's friends.
621
Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that
622
Black had been the Potter's secret keeper, he went after Black himself.
623
Pettigrew, that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts, said Matamor's murder.
624
Here worshipped Black and Potter, said Professor McGonagall.
625
Never quite in their league, talent -wise.
626
It was often rather sharp with him.
627
You can imagine how I regret that now.
628
She sounded as though she had a sudden head curled.
629
There now, Minerva, said Fudge kindly.
630
Pettigrew died a hero's death.
631
Eyewitnesses, muggles of course, we wiped their memories later, told us how Pettigrew cornered Black.
632
They said he was sobbing.
633
Lillian, James, Sirius, how could you?
634
And then he went for his wand.
635
Well, of course
636
Black was quicker.
637
Blew Pettigrew to smithereens.
638
Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, stupid boy, foolish boy.
639
He was always hopeless at dueling.
640
Should have left it to the ministry.
641
I tell you, if I'd have got to Black before little Pettigrew did.
642
I wouldn't have messed around with Wands.
643
I'd have ripped him limb from limb, Hagrid growled.
644
You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid, said Fudge sharply.
645
Nobody but trained hit wizards from the magical law enforcement squad would have stood a chance against
646
Black once he was cornered.
647
I was junior minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after
648
Black murdered all those people.
649
I will never forget it.
650
I still dream about sometimes a crater in the middle of the street
651
so deep it had cracked the sewer below bodies everywhere muggles screaming
652
and black standing there laughing with what was left of pettigrew
653
in front of him a heap of blood -stained robes and a few -a few fragments Fudge's voice stopped abruptly.
654
There was the sound of five noses being blown.
655
Well, there you have it, Rosemartha, said Fudge thickly.
656
Black was taken away by twenty members of the magical law enforcement squad, and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin,
657
first class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother.
658
Black's been an Azkaban ever since.
659
Madame Rosemartha let out a long sigh.
660
Is it true he's mad, Minister?
661
I wish I could say that he was, said Fudge slowly.
662
I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while.
663
The murder of Pettigrew and all those muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man.
664
Cruel.
665
Pointless.
666
Yet I met
667
Black on my last inspection of Azkaban.
668
You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark.
669
There's no sense in them.
670
But I was shocked at how normal Black seemed.
671
He spoke quite rationally to me.
672
It was unnerving.
673
You'd have thought he was merely bored.
674
Asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, "'but cool as you please,' said he missed doing the crossword.
675
"'Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him,
676
"'and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know.
677
"'Dementors outside his door, day and night.' "'But what do you think he's broken out to do?' said Madame Rosemarita.
678
"'Good gracious, Minister!
679
He isn't trying to rejoin you -know -who, is he?' "'I dare say that his.. uh.. eventual plan,' said Fudge evasively.
680
But we hoped to catch
681
Black long before that.
682
I must say, you know who alone and friendless is one thing.
683
But give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again.
684
There was a small chink of glass on wood.
685
Someone had set down their glass.
686
You know it, Cornelius.
687
If you're dining with the headmaster, we better head back up to the castle, said Professor McGonagall.
688
One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Harry took the weight of their owners once more.
689
Hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madame Rosemute's glittering heels disappearing behind the bar.
690
The door of the three broomsticks opened again and there was another flurry of snow and the teachers had disappeared.
691
Harry?
692
Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared onto the table.
693
They were both staring at him, lost for words.
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Vocabulario y notas de pronunciación para esta lección
Esta lección de conversación se basa en el vídeo “10. The Marauder's Map”. Este vídeo tiene 693 frases y 7184 palabras para practicar shadowing. La parte hablada dura 36:48. El hablante habla rápido, unas 195 palabras por minuto, así que espera sonidos enlazados y reducidos. Solo el 77 % de las palabras está entre las 3.000 más comunes del inglés, por lo que el vocabulario es exigente.
Vocabulario clave de este vídeo
15 palabras del vídeo que vale la pena aprender, con su pronunciación y significado:
| Palabra | Pronunciación | Significado |
|---|---|---|
| keeper sustantivo | /ˈkiː.pɚ/ | guardián, guardiana |
| passage sustantivo | /ˈpæsɪd͡ʒ/ | pasaje |
| magical adjetivo | /ˈmæd͡ʒ.ɪ.kəl/ | mágico |
| castle sustantivo | /ˈkɑːsəl/ | castillo, castro |
| classroom sustantivo | /ˈklɑːsɹʊm/ | aula, sala de clases |
| stare verbo | /stɛɚ/ | mirar fijamente, quedarse mirando |
| cloak sustantivo | /kləʊk/ | pendil, palio |
| entrance sustantivo | /ˈɛn.tɹəns/ | entrada |
| throat sustantivo | /ˈθɹoʊt/ | garganta, gorja |
| statue sustantivo | /ˈstæt͡ʃu/ | estatua |
| corridor sustantivo | /ˈkɒɹɪdɔː/ | corredor, andador |
| robe sustantivo | /ɹoʊb/ | bata, hábito |
| carefully adverbio | /ˈkɛɹf(ə)li/ | cuidadosamente |
| innocent adjetivo | /ˈɪnəsənt/ | inocente |
| horrible adjetivo | /ˈhɔɹ.ɪ.bəl/ | horrible, horroroso |
Phrasal verbs que vas a escuchar
| Palabra | Significado |
|---|---|
| fall off verbo | caer |
| find out verbo | averiguar, anoticiarse |
| look over verbo | revisar |
| take out verbo | sacar |
| back off verbo | dejar/parar de insistir |
| break out verbo | escapar forzadamente, fugarse |
| get away verbo | alejarse |
| get out of verbo | salirse de, ponerse fuera de |
Frases que vale la pena repetir
Frases cortas y completas del vídeo que puedes reutilizar en la conversación diaria:
- Why should he give us homework?
- Why do they affect me like that?
- What are you doing here?
- I'll get the drinks, shall I?
- Have one yourself, won't you?
Gramática en este vídeo
Las estructuras que más usa el hablante, con las palabras exactas del vídeo:
| Estructura | En el vídeo |
|---|---|
| Oraciones condicionales if + oración, will/would + verbo — una condición y su resultado | If it can, the Dementor will feed · If I hand it in, then I'll have · If anyone finds out, he'll mean |
| “Used to” used to + verbo — un hábito o estado pasado que ya no es cierto | used to play · used to make · used to ride |
| Present perfect have/has + participio pasado — una acción pasada que sigue importando ahora | haven't covered · I've already finished · have seen |
| Voz pasiva be + participio pasado — importa lo que ocurre, no quién lo hace | had been followed · been run · was forced |
Pronunciación a tener en cuenta
El hablante usa 117 contracciones y formas reducidas, como don't, I'd, wouldn't. Dilas en su forma corta, tal como las oyes.
- Los sonidos de “th”: throat /ˈθɹoʊt/, thin /ˈθɪn/, thick /θɪk/, bother /ˈbɑðɚ/, sixth /sɪksθ/
- Los sonidos de “sh” y “zh”: sharply /ˈʃɑɹpli/, shortly /ˈʃɔɹtli/, shelf /ʃɛlf/, sharp /ʃɑɹp/, unusual /ʌnˈjuːʒ(u)əl/
- Palabras largas — cuida el acento: unusual /ʌnˈjuːʒ(u)əl/, disappointed /ˌdɪsəˈpɔɪnɪd/, imitation /ɪmɪˈteɪ̯ʃən/
Sonidos difíciles para hispanohablantes:
- s + consonante al inicio — sin añadir una “e” delante: stare /stɛɚ/, statue /ˈstæt͡ʃu/, staircase /ˈstɛɹˌkeɪs/, string /stɹɪŋ/, slip /ˈslɪp/
- /v/ — no es /b/: los dientes tocan el labio inferior: cave /keɪv/, involve /ɪnˈvɑlv/, visitor /ˈvɪzɪtɚ/
- /z/ — sonora, no /s/: hesitate /ˈhɛz.ə.teɪt/, prisoner /ˈpɹɪzənə/, resist /ɹɪˈzɪst/, stairs /ˈstɛɹz/, wizard /ˈwɪzɚd/
Cómo practicar con este vídeo
- Escucha el vídeo entero una vez sin hablar y anota las palabras que no conoces.
- Empieza a velocidad 0,75×, haz shadowing frase por frase y vuelve a la velocidad normal cuando te resulte fácil.
- Grábate y compara con el original, prestando atención a palabras como keeper, passage, magical.
¿Qué es la Técnica de Shadowing?
Shadowing es una técnica de aprendizaje de idiomas respaldada por la ciencia, desarrollada originalmente para la formación de intérpretes profesionales y popularizada por el políglota Dr. Alexander Arguelles. El método es simple pero poderoso: escuchas audio en inglés nativo y lo repites en voz alta de inmediato, como una sombra que sigue al hablante con solo 1-2 segundos de retraso. A diferencia de la escucha pasiva o los ejercicios de gramática, el shadowing obliga a tu cerebro y músculos de la boca a procesar y reproducir simultáneamente patrones de habla reales. Las investigaciones muestran que mejora significativamente la precisión de la pronunciación, la entonación, el ritmo, el habla conectada, la comprensión auditiva y la fluidez al hablar, convirtiéndola en una de las metodologías más efectivas para la preparación del IELTS Speaking y la comunicación en inglés en el mundo real.