飞鸟

未命名的哈利波特前传

J.K.罗琳

在黑暗中，急速奔驰的摩托车作了个急转弯，速度快到让在巡逻车中的两个警察都叫了出来“哇哦！”费希尔（Fisher）警官的大脚猛然的踩住了刹车，他在想：坐在摩托车后座上的男孩一定会被甩出去；然而，摩托车转过了这个弯却没有把任何骑手摔下来，并带着一束红色的尾灯光，消失在狭窄的小巷中。

"我们已经抓住他们了"巡逻警安德森（PC Anderson）兴奋地叫道。“那是个死胡同！”

紧紧地靠在方向盘上，冲撞着换档器, 费希尔强迫车在窄巷中追赶他们，以至于擦掉了车侧边一半的漆。

他们的逃犯坐在车前灯前面在至少15分钟的追逐后终于静止了。两个骑手被困在就像是一只爬向他们的眼睛发光的肉食动物的警车和一座高高的砖墙之间。

在车门与小巷的墙之间的空隙太小了，以至于费希尔和安德森从汽车中出来都有困难。他们一点一点地像螃蟹一样地爬向恶棍，这伤到了他们的尊严。费希尔沿着墙壁拖动着他的大肚子，衬衫上的扣子都被撕了下来，最终用它的屁股折断了汽车后视镜。

“从摩托车上下来！”他对傻笑着的年轻人咆哮道。而那两个年轻人却在闪动着的蓝色灯光中晒“太阳浴”就像他们很喜欢那样似的。

年轻人按照警察说的做了。终于，费希尔从折断的后视镜上拉了下来，盯着他们看。他们像是十八九岁的样子。开车的那个有一头长长的黑发；他无礼的遵从看起来不愉快地令费希尔想起了他女儿弹吉他的无业男朋友。另一个男孩也有一头黑发，虽然他的很短而且朝四面八方竖着；他戴着太阳镜咧开嘴笑着. 他们两个都穿着纹有一只大金鸟的T恤；这个标记，无可置疑地是代表着某个震耳欲聋不悦耳的摇滚乐队。

“没有头盔！”费希尔叫喊道，从一个没有遮盖的头指向另一个。“超过了限速很——很多！”（实际上，费希尔接受的摩托车行驶速度要比道路注册速度低）“在警察要求时不停车！”

“我们会很乐意停下来聊几句”戴太阳镜的男孩说，“我们只是试图——”

“不要狡辩了 – 你们正在成堆的麻烦中！”安德森嗥叫道“姓名!”

“姓名？”长发的驾车员重复道。“呃-好吧，让我想想。威尔伯福斯（Wilberforce）…巴斯士巴[所罗门王]（Bathsheba） …艾尔文多克（Elvendork）…”

“你可以把这个名字给男孩，也可以给女孩，这一点很不错。”戴太阳镜的男孩说。

“哦，我们的名字，你是这个意思吗？”当安德森大发脾气地发出嘶嘶声时，第一个男孩问，“你应该早点说的！这是詹姆·波特，而我是小天狼星布莱克”

“很快对你们来说事情就会变得非同小可的黑暗，你们这些不要脸的小子——"

但是詹姆士和小天狼星都没放在心上。他们突然像猎狗般警觉, 越过费希尔和安德森后面，越过警车盯着巷口。然后，以同样流畅的动作，他们把手伸向了后口袋。

在一次心跳那么长的时间里，两个警察都想象到了枪对着他们闪光，但是一秒钟之后，他们看见两个摩托车骑手只抽出了——

“鼓棒？”安德森嘲笑道。"你们真是一对小丑，不是吗？我们要逮捕你们，控告你们——"

但是安德森永远也没有找到指控名义。詹姆士和小天狼星喊出了一些不可理解的东西，然后车头灯的光束就晃动了。

警察转了一圈，交错站着往后退。三个人在飞—确实在飞—在小巷上面骑着扫帚——同一时间，警车用后轮站了起来。

费希尔的膝盖弯曲了；他重重地坐下来；安德森被费希尔的腿绊倒摔在费希尔上，“砰——嘭——嘎吱”他们听到扫帚上的人猛地撞到颠倒的汽车上，摔了下来，很显然没有了知觉摔到地上，摔碎的扫帚在他们周围哗啦哗啦地落到地上。

摩托车又发出了轰鸣声恢复了生机。嘴巴吃惊地仗着的费希尔鼓足力量回眼看着两个年轻人。

“非常感谢！”小天狼星喊道，启动着引擎“我们欠你们一次！”

“对，见到你们很高兴！”詹姆士说。“不要忘记，艾尔文多克！是男女皆宜的！”

一个令大地震动的撞击声，费希尔和安德森惊恐地把两臂抱在了一起；他们的汽车落到了地上。现在该轮到摩托车咆哮了。在两个警察难以相信的目光下，它升向了空中：詹姆士和小天狼星在夜空中远去，他们的尾灯在后面闪烁，像一个消失中的红宝石。从这个前传开始我不再继续——但这真的很有意思!J.K.罗琳2008

Untitled HARRY POTTER Prequel By J.K. Rowling

The speeding motorcycle took the sharp corner so fast in the darkness that both policemen in the pursuing car shouted "Whoa!" Sergeant Fisher slammed his large foot on the brake, thinking that the boy who was riding pillion was sure to be thrown under his wheels; however, the motorbike made the turn without unseating either of its riders, and with a wink of its red tail light, vanished up the narrow side street.

"We've got 'em now" cried PC Anderson excitedly. "That's a dead end!"

Leaning hard on the steering wheel and crashing his gears, Fisher scraped half the paint off the flank of the car as he forced it up the alleyway in pursuit.

There in the headlights sat their quarry, stationary at last after a quarter of an hour's chase. The two riders were trapped between a towering brick wall and the police car, which was now crawling towards them like some growling, luminous-eyed predator.

There was so little space between the car doors and the walls of the alley that Fisher and Anderson had difficulty extricating themselves from the vehicle. It injured their dignity to have to inch, crab-like, towards the miscreants. Fisher dragged his generous belly along the wall, tearing buttons off his shirt as he went, and finally snapping off the wing mirror with his backside.

"Get off the bike!" he bellowed at the smirking youths, who sat basking in the flashing blue light as though enjoying it.

They did as they were told. Finally pulling free from the broken wing mirror, Fisher glared at them. They seemed to be in their late teens. The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter's guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend. The second boy also had black hair, though his was short and stuck up in all directions; he wore glasses and a broad grin. Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.

"No helmets!" Fisher yelled, pointing from one uncovered head to the other. "Exceeding the speed limit by- by a considerable amount!" (In fact, the speed registered had been greater than Fisher was prepared to accept that any motorcycle could travel.) "Failure to stop for the police!"

"We'd have loved to stop for a chat," said the boy in glasses, "only we were trying—"

"Don't get smart – you two are in a heap of trouble!' snarled Anderson. "Names!"

"Names? repeated the long-haired driver. "Er- well, let's see. There's Wilberforce… Bathsheba… Elvendork…"

"And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy or a girl,"said the boy in glasses.

"Oh our names, did you mean?" asked the first, as Anderson spluttered with rage. "You should've said! This here is James Potter, and I'm Siruis Black!"

"Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little —"

But neither James nor Sirius was paying attention. They were suddenly as alert as gundogs, staring past Fisher and Anderson, over the roof of the police car at the dark mouth of the alley. Then, with identical, fluid movements, they reached in their back pockets.

For the space of a heartbeat, both policemen imagined guns gleaming at them, but a second later, they saw that the motorcyclists had drawn nothing more than—

"Drumsticks?" jeered Anderson. "Right pair of jokers, aren't you? Right, we're arresting you on a charge of—"

But Anderson never got to name the charge. James and Sirius had shouted something incomprehensible, and the beams from the headlights had moved.

The policemen wheeled around, then staggered backwards. Three men were flying – actually flying – up the alley on broomsticks – and at the same moment, the police car was rearing up on its back wheels.

Fisher's knees buckled; he sat down hard; Anderson tripped over Fisher's leg and fell on top of him, as flump – bang – crunch – they heard the men on brooms slam into the upended car and fall, apparently insensible, to the ground, while broken bits of broomstick clattered down around them.

The motorbike had roared into life again. His mouth hanging over, Fisher mustered the strength to look back at the two teenagers.

"Thanks very much!" called Sirius over the throb of the engine. "We owe you one!"

"Yeah, nice meeting you!" said James. "And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!"

There was an earth-shaking crash, and Fisher and Anderson threw their arms around each other in fright; their car had just fallen back to the ground. Now it was the motorcycle's turn to roar. Before the policemen's disbelieving eyes, it took off into thin air: James and Sirius zoomed away into the night sky, their tail light twinkling behind them like a vanishing ruby. From the prequel I am not working on – but that was fun! JK Rowling 2008