晋江文学城
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  •   仲夏时节,距村庄两英里外的戈德里克山谷沐浴在余晖下,闷热潮湿、郁郁葱葱、阳光刺眼,灌木丛中传来虫鸣,阳光穿透绿叶绽放异彩。少年们手拉着手,迈着相似的步伐,他们长袍的领口微微敞开——在阿不思秀美长发的遮掩下,他的颈部凹陷处有一小块淤青。

      “你是否,”阿不思安静地问,“畏惧死亡?”

      “不是特别的,”盖勒特随口一答。他正眯着眼睛迎着斜阳,整个人金色耀眼。“我不太明白你的意思。”

      “是我今早读的古代诗歌中的某一句话——那些寻找圣器的人是因为害怕死亡,令人悲悯。”

      “啊,那我明白你的意思了。但是…不,不是特别怕,并未凌驾于本能的畏惧之上。这是生命的自然规律,高墙切断我的去路,太阳却还会照样落下。是的,想起无能为力的东西会让人恼火——但是我干嘛要害怕构成现实世界的一部分呢?那是毫无意义的挣扎。

      “可听人说它更像是一块褴褛的面纱,薄如蝉翼,一下就将人吸过去。”阿不思平静又略带冷酷地说;毕竟,他见过的死别要多过盖勒特一些。

      “很贴切的比喻,但很难改变我的观点。”盖勒特微微一笑。“内在逻辑似乎是这样的,那些人确实是因为畏惧死亡,或者是怕死亡带来的一切,从而想要去掌控它?而还有些人并不是那么害怕,于是安然接受它?”

      “看上去似乎是这样。”

      “嗯。”

      他们继续往前走。盖勒特用他的尖头德式皮鞋踢着小石子。阿不思嚼着一片草叶。

      血一样的夕阳坠在群山之间。

      “但是,”过了一会儿,盖勒特碰碰阿不思的胳膊让他停下来,并挨近他,“但是,阿不思——”盖勒特猛地抓住一大把阿不思的头发,出人意料地拽了一下,使其跌跌撞撞跪在地上。盖勒特轻笑着低语,“我不需要为了想要拥有某样东西而害怕它。”

      不同往常的,阿不思的脸上闪过一种未加修饰的略带脆弱的震惊,草叶不经意地从他唇边掉落。盖勒特温柔地轻抚阿不思的脸颊,即便他仍紧紧抓着他的头发。然后他俯身慢慢摘下阿不思的眼镜,看着那双尚未对焦的——迷茫的眼眸,还有他微露的紧绷的咽喉。

      “我也不是很怕你,”他耳语着,靠得更近些,直到阿不思贴紧他的腿,面向他的腹股沟。“但是你呢?我的同伙,你畏惧死亡吗?”

      “正如飞蛾畏火般。”阿不思轻答。

      ****原文****

      Two miles out of the village in midsummer, Godric's Hollow is hot and green and golden in the late evening, with gnats buzzing harmless in the shadows and the setting sun pouring strange colors through the leaves. The boys walk almost in lockstep, almost hand in hand, robes tugged open round their throats--and there's a bruise in the hollow of Albus' neck, hidden by long hair glowing lurid in the late light.

      "Are you," he asks quietly, "afraid of Death?"

      "Not particularly," says Gellert, flippant. He's squinting into the setting sun, all golden. "I don't see the point."

      "It was something in one of the old poems I was reading this morning--that those who seek the Hallows do so out of a fear of Death and should be pitied."

      "Ahh, I see where your point lies. But...no, not particularly. Not more than is natural for a living thing. A wall looms to cut off my existence, surely, the sun always sets. Yes, the thought of ending with my work undone is aggravating--but do I fear what is part of the very fabric of reality? Pointless struggling, that."

      "There are those who say it is more like a ragged veil, tantalizingly thin, drawn across." Albus' voice is calm and a little cold; there has, after all, been more death in his past than in Gellert's.

      "A fine metaphor, but such rarely alter my sentiments." Gellert flashes a very sharp grin. "The inherent logic would seem to be that those who wish to master Death do so because they are afraid of it and what it can do to themselves or their own, yes? And that those who do not overly fear it would leave well enough alone?"

      "That would seem to be the case, yes."

      "Hmm."

      They walk on. Gellert kicks stones with his pointed German shoes; Albus is chewing on a blade of grass. The sun is blood-red between the hills.

      "But," Gellert says after a long while, and touches his friend's elbow, halting his step and drawing him close. "But, Albus--" and he grabs a thick handful of Albus' hair, no warning, and tugs, sending him stumbling to his knees in the dirt. Gellert smiles, murmurs, "I don't need to be afraid of something in order to master it."

      There's naked, tender shock on Albus' face, breaking through his usual reserve, and the grass slips unheeded from his lips. Gellert strokes his cheek, gently, even as he holds his head tight by the hair, and slowly slips off his glasses and watches his eyes unfocus--half-blinded without them, and with the narrow muscles of his throat bare and straining.

      "I'm not particularly afraid of you, either," he whispers, standing closer, until Albus is plastered up against his legs, face to his groin. "But what about you, fellow-seeker? Do you fear Death?"

      "As the moth fears the flame," Albus breathes.
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第36章 番外

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