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Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time,
星期六下午不知不觉就过去了，
it was five minutes to eight, and Harry was dragging his feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office.
一晃就到了八点差五分，哈利满不情愿地拖动双脚，沿三楼走廊向洛哈特的办公室走去。
He gritted his teeth and knocked.
他咬咬牙，敲响了房门。
The door flew open at once. Lockhart beamed down at him.
门立刻开了，洛哈特满面笑容地看着他。
“Ah, here's the scalawag!” he said.
“啊，小坏蛋来了！
“Come in, Harry, come in—”
进来，哈利，进来吧。”
Shining brightly on the walls by the light of many candles were countless framed photographs of Lockhart.
墙上挂着数不清的洛哈特的像框，被许多支蜡烛照得十分明亮。
He had even signed a few of them. Another large pile lay on his desk.
有几张上甚至还有他的签名。桌上也放着一大叠照片。
“You can address the envelopes!” Lockhart told Harry, as though this was a huge treat.
“你可以写信封！”洛哈特对哈利说，仿佛这是好大的优惠似的，
“This first one's to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her— huge fan of mine—”
“第一封给格拉迪丝女士，上帝保佑她——我的一个热烈的崇拜者。”
The minutes snailed by. Harry let Lockhart's voice wash over him, occasionally saying, “Mmm” and “Right” and “Yeah.”
时间过得像蜗牛爬。哈利听凭洛哈特在那里滔滔不绝，只偶尔答一声“唔” “啊”“是”。
Now and then he caught a phrase like, “Fame's a fickle friend, Harry,” or “Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that.”
有时有那么一两句刮到他耳朵里，什么“名气是个反复无常的朋友，哈利”，或“记住，名人就得有名人的架子”。
