Crookshanks

【翻译】罗琳的前篇

官方哦~一个短短的前篇，犬和鹿出场.附原文.

应该有好多大佬译过，这里小渣大家多指教！

 

疾驰的摩托在黑暗中飞快地转了个急弯，汽车里紧追不舍的警察们“哇”地惊叫起来。费希尔警官的大脚猛地踩下刹车。他想后座那个男孩一定会被甩到车轮之下。但是摩托车成功地转弯了，两位骑手都还在上面。红色尾灯闪了闪，它消失在狭窄支路的路口。

 

“他们跑不了了！”安德森警员激动地大喊。“那是死路！”

 

费希尔死死抵着方向盘，齿轮嘎嘎作响。为了把车子挤进巷道，他几乎刮掉了汽车侧面一半的喷漆。他们的猎物被车灯光笼罩，在十五分钟的追逐之后终于停下来不动。两个骑手被困在一堵高耸的砖墙和警车之间。警车正朝他们冲撞而来，好像一头咆哮的双眼放光的食肉兽。

 

费希尔和安德森花了很大力气才从车里挣扎出来，因为车门与巷壁之间的空间实在太小。他们不得不像螃蟹一样朝着坏蛋们缓慢移动，而这严重伤害了他们的自尊。费希尔挺着他的大肚子沿墙挪着，他的衬衫纽扣不断地被扯下来，最后后视镜也在他臀部的碾压之下折断了。

 

“从车上下来！”他朝着那两个笑嘻嘻的年轻人怒吼。他们沐浴着耀眼的蓝光，仿佛很享受似的。

 

他们按他说的做了。费希尔终于从破碎的挡风玻璃中解脱出来。他瞪着他们。他们像是十几二十岁。开车的那位留着长长的黑发；他即桀骜又英俊，让费希尔颇为不快地想起了他女儿游手好闲的吉他手男朋友。另一个男孩也是黑发，但他的比较短，乱糟糟而神气活现；他戴眼镜，脸上挂着大大的笑容。两个人都穿着饰有一只金色大鸟的T恤；这图案一定是某支聒噪而难听的摇滚乐队的徽标。

 

“不戴头盔！”费希尔高喊，指着一个人没有保护的脑袋，再指向另一个。“超速，超了…超了很多！”（事实上，测得的速度超过了费希尔所知的摩托车能够运行的最高时速。）“没有遵循警察指令停车！”

 

“我们很愿意停下来聊聊天，”戴眼镜的男孩说，“但我们正在…”

 

“别耍小聪明——你们两个有大麻烦了！”安德森咆哮着。“名字！”

 

“名字？”长发的骑手重复道。“呃——嗯，让我想想。有威尔伯福斯…拔示巴…埃尔文多可…”

 

“这个的好处是，它可以给男孩用，也可以给女孩。”戴眼镜的男孩说。

 

“哦，你是指我们的名字吗？” 看见安德森因愤怒气急败坏，第一个男孩问道。“你不早说！这位是詹姆·波特，我是西里斯·布莱克！”

 

“你们很快就要完蛋了，你们这些厚脸皮的小…”

 

但是詹姆和西里斯都没注意听。他们突然变得像猎犬一样警觉，望向费希尔和安德森身后，目光越过警车顶，盯着小巷漆黑的入口。然后，他们用一模一样的流畅动作把手伸进裤口袋。有一瞬间两位警官脑海中都浮现出朝向他们的闪光的枪口，但很快他们就看见两位摩托骑手抽出的东西不过是——

 

“鼓槌？”安德森嗤笑道。“真是对小丑。好了，我要逮捕你们，罪名是…”

 

但他永远没有机会说出罪名了。詹姆和西里斯喊出一些难以理解的词句，车大灯的光束移动了。警官们迅速转身，然后趔趄着后退。三个人在小巷上空飞——是真的飞——骑着扫帚。与此同时警车立起，只有后轮着地。费希尔膝盖一软，他重重地坐到地上；安德森被费希尔的腿绊倒，摔在他身上。砰——邦——嘎吱，他们听见扫帚上的人撞到了颠倒的汽车，无知觉地掉在地上，扫帚破碎的残片散落在他们周围。

 

摩托车咆哮一声，将要启动了。费尔希目瞪口呆。他好不容易重振精神，又看了一眼两个少年。

 

“非常感谢你们！”西里斯在引擎震动的噪声中大喊。“我们欠你一个情！”

 

“对，很高兴认识你们！”詹姆说。“不要忘了：埃尔文多可男女通用！”

 

一声惊天动地的巨响，费希尔和安德森害怕地抱紧彼此；他们的车刚刚落回地面。现在轮到摩托车支着后轮起立了。在警官们难以置信的目光的注视下，它朝空中进发：詹姆和西里斯向夜空深处疾驰，他们的尾灯闪烁着，好像一颗逐渐消失的红宝石。

 

来源于我并没有在写的前传——但这很有趣！   J.K.罗琳 2008

 

 

 

THE PREQUEL

 

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 flung 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 crashing 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 theywere 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 hisdaughter’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 goldenbird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band. 

 

“No helmets!”Fisher yelled, pointing from one uncovered head to the other. “Exceeding thespeed 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.) “Failing to stop for the police!” 

 

“We’d have loved tostop 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 Sirius 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 into 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 youon 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 bucked; he sat down hard; Anderson tripped over Fisher’s legs 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 open, 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-shattering 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 rear. Before the policemen’s disbelieving eyes, it took off into the 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! J.K. Rowling 2008.