书名：Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows哈利波特与死亡圣器
出版社名称：Bloomsbury Children’s Books
商品尺寸：19.8 x 4 x 12.9 cm
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows《哈利波特与死亡圣器》是英国作家J.K.罗琳创作的长篇小说，是《哈利波特》系列的第七部。主要讲述了十七岁的哈利本应在霍格沃茨魔法学校继续学业，但为了完成己故魔法学校前任校长邓布利多留给他消灭伏地魔的任务，哈利和好友面对伏地魔及其追随者食死徒的围追堵截，隐形循迹、历经艰，终于销毁多个魂器并战胜伏地魔，取得魔法世界伟大胜利的故事。
“I’ve yet to meet a ten-year-old who hasn’t been entranced by its witty, complex plot and the character of the eponymous Harry.” —Independent
“Spellbinding, enchanting, bewitching stuff.” —Mirror
“Teachers say a chapter can silence the most rowdy of classes.” —Guardian
“One of the greatest literary adventures of modern times.” —Sunday Telegraph
“The Harry Potter stories will join that small group of children’s books which are read and reread into adulthood.” —TLS
As he climbs into the sidecar of Hagrid’s motorbike and takes to the skies, leaving Privet Drive for the last time, Harry Potter knows that Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters are not far behind. The protective charm that has kept Harry safe until now is now broken, but he cannot keep hiding. The Dark Lord is breathing fear into everything Harry loves, and to stop him Harry will have to find and destroy the remaining Horcruxes. The final battle must begin—Harry must stand and face his enemy.
These new editions of the classic and internationally bestselling, multi-award-winning series feature instantly pick-up-able new jackets by Jonny Duddle, with huge child appeal, to bring Harry Potter to the next generation of readers. It’s time to PASS THE MAGIC ON.
J.K. Rowlingis the author of the seven Harry Potter novels, which have sold over 450 million copies and have been translated into 79 languages, and three companion books originally published for charity. She is also the author ofThe Casual Vacancy, a novel for adults published in 2012, and, under the pseudonym of Robert Galbraith, is the author of theCormoran Strikecrime series.The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands directed at each other’s chests; then, recognising each other, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction.
“News?” asked the taller of the two.
“The best,” replied Severus Snape.
The lane was bordered on the left by wild, low-growing brambles, on the right by a high, neatly manicured hedge. The men’s long cloaks flapped around their ankles as they marched.
“Thought I might be late,” said Yaxley, his blunt features sliding in and out of sight as the branches of overhanging trees broke the moonlight. “It was a little trickier than I expected. But I hope he will be satisfied. You sound confident that your reception will be good?”
Snape nodded, but did not elaborate. They turned right, into a wide driveway that led off the lane. The high hedge curved with them, running off into the distance beyond the pair of impressive wrought-iron gates barring the men’s way. Neither of them broke step: in silence both raised their left arms in a kind of salute and passed straight through as though the dark metal were smoke.
The yew hedges muffled the sound of the men’s footsteps. There was a rustle somewhere to their right: Yaxley drew his wand again, pointing it over his companion’s head, but the source of the noise proved to be nothing more than a pure white peacock, strutting majestically along the top of the hedge.
“He always did himself well, Lucius. Peacocks…” Yaxley thrust his wand back under his cloak with a snort.
A handsome manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive, lights glinting in the diamond-paned downstairs windows.
Somewhere in the dark garden beyond the hedge, a fountain was playing. Gravel crackled beneath their feet as Snape and Yaxley sped towards the front door, which swung inwards at their approach, though nobody had visibly opened it.
The hallway was large, dimly lit and sumptuously decorated, with a magnificent carpet covering most of the stone floor. The eyes of the pale-faced portraits on the walls followed Snape and Yaxley as they strode past. The two men halted at a heavy wooden door leading into the next room, hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, then Snape turned the bronze handle.
The drawing room was full of silent people, sitting at a long and ornate table. The room’s usual furniture had been pushed carelessly up against the walls. Illumination came from a roaring fire beneath a handsome marble mantelpiece surmounted by a gilded mirror. Snape and Yaxley lingered for a moment on the threshold. As their eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light they were drawn upwards to the strangest feature of the scene: an apparently unconscious human figure hanging upside-down over the table, revolving slowly as if suspended by an invisible rope, and reflected in the mirror and in the bare, polished surface of the table below. None of the people seated underneath this singular sight was looking at it except for a pale young man sitting almost directly below it. He seemed unable to prevent himself from glancing upwards every minute or so.
“Yaxley. Snape,” said a high, clear voice from the head of the table.
“You are very nearly late.”