September 26th, 1952
Albus—
阿不思——
After all the scatological ways I've considered—no, I'll have to start this letter with a simple thank you. My charming sulks, you horrid arse. I haven't laughed that hard in weeks.
在考虑过所有下流的开头之后，我想还是算了，以一个简单的感谢来作为这封信的伊始吧。我生气时迷人的样子，你他妈真会胡扯。几周以来我还没有像这样大声笑过。
But Muggle literature? Honestly, Albus. Send me the Compendium of Inoffensive Things—then I might refrain from a sulk. This Woolf woman—very strange.
一本麻瓜文学？说实话，阿不思，寄给我一份不会冒犯到别人的物品清单吧，说不定我就暂时消气了。还有这个叫伍尔夫的女人——真是奇怪。
And Legilimency? Don't bother. Stay out of my head. The days stretch, oh yes, like that furlough-string taffy you used to suck on as we talked, stringing it endlessly between your fingers and your teeth. Downright distracting, that. Made my pen slip on the parchment more than once. But it did explode so delightfully when we hexed it, remember? Green and smoking?
至于摄神取念？还是省省吧，离我的大脑远一点。时光延展，哦，是的，就像我们交谈时你吮吸过的那块太妃糖，在贝齿和指尖没完没了地拉长。那个样子真的太容易让人分心了，我的笔尖在羊皮纸上不止一次地打滑。但在我们施咒后它爆炸的样子的确令人愉悦，记得吗？绿绿的，还冒着烟？
You were always absolute rubbish at begging. Remember when I hexed your legs to the bedstead and made you wait? Utterly pathetic, you couldn't even manage to be polite. I was in such a snit I could've beaten you bloody...
你真是从来都不擅长求人。还记得我把你的腿施咒绑在床架上，让你等着我的那次吗？多可怜啊，你甚至都维持不了自己的礼貌了。我还正为了不能揍你一顿而生气呢……
And my life. This life you reduced me to. Taffy days and memories.
至于我的生活，是你害我走到这个地步，陷入太妃糖一样苦涩甜腻又难以咀嚼的日子和回忆。
Morning: the guards come round, scan all my papers for dangerous Arithmancy. They used to rough me up, sometimes, when I was first here, no spells, just fists. There was one woman—you killed my husband, she would scream, you killed my husband. They stopped after a few years because I would always laugh at them. I take as much idiotic, endless pride in my talents as you, Albus. The talent of laughing through broken teeth while kneeling on a stone floor clutching your bruised gut, laughing with blood down your throat at people who want to torture you? A good talent to have in prison. Worth far more than wits or magic.
早上，警卫巡视过一次，仔细查看了所有我危险的占卜笔记。他们习惯了使用暴力，在我刚到这里的时候，有时没有咒语，只是拳头。那有一个女人——你杀了我的丈夫，她尖叫着，你杀了我的丈夫。因为我一直嘲笑他们，几年后，这种行为就慢慢停止了。我忍受着这些白痴，在自负上与你有着不相上下的天赋，阿不思。那种在牙齿被打碎，跪在石板上捂着受伤的腹部，即使咽下喉咙里的血也要冲那些折磨你的人大笑的天赋？这在监狱里不可多得，比魔法和智慧要更有价值。
The food tastes like dirt. I've lost a good bit of weight. The window's old and wavery glass, and I can't see my reflection clearly, but I'd imagine I look rather like a skeleton. Hard to imagine a handsome British genius once made love to me on riverbanks, eh?
食物的味道像烂泥，我瘦削了很多。老旧的窗户上划痕遍布，我已经看不清自己的倒影了，但我能想象到自己看起来几乎像一具骷髅。很难想象到一个年少英俊的不列颠天才还和我在河堤上做过爱呢，对吧？
Taffy days. I read until my eyes blur, stop, re-read, make notes. Perhaps I should bequeath you my library—but no, you would be disgusted, no doubt. My magic is still Dark, even if I cannot practice it. I rummage aimless through old lore. Tell me, old friend, did you ever find the Hallows? Did you achieve our dream without me? Will you master Death, now that you've shucked your partner off to ignobility and prison?
又是太妃糖一样的日子，我总读到视线模糊，停下，又继续读下去，然后做笔记。我也许应该把我的图书馆留给你——还是算了吧，你一定会觉得恶心，毋庸置疑。我仍然研究黑魔法，即使已经无法再去练习了。我漫无目的地翻阅那些古老的传说，告诉我，老朋友，你找到过死亡圣器吗？你在离开我之后完成过我们的梦想吗？在将你的搭档丢进耻辱和监狱后，你成为死亡的主人了吗？
Ah. I remember writing essays at Durmstrang like this, rambling on like an old dodderer, writing with half an eye on the page and half an eye in Moste Potente Potions. Dipping my pen in the newt blood by mistake.
哈，我还记得在德姆斯朗特写论文的时候，就像现在，跟个老糊涂一样东拉西扯。一边看着纸页，一边盯着《强力药剂》，不小心就把笔蘸进了蝾螈血里。
I wear smooth spots on the floor where I pace. Three rats I caught hang from shackle brackets in the corners—I stamped on their tails as they ran past, snapped their necks, and skinned them with my teeth. They've rotted slowly and horrible over the years. A sacrifice, to discourage the others—no rats have bothered me since. And you'd be amazed what stenches you can get used to.
因为经常踱步，地面上留下了光滑的斑点。三只老鼠被我挂在角落里的镣铐上——我在它们跑过时踩住了尾巴，扭断了它们的脖子，用牙齿把皮剥下来。它们慢慢腐烂，逐渐变得面目全非。一种献祭，用来警告它们的同伴——从此再也没有一只老鼠打扰过我，你同样会对自己能忍受这样的恶臭而倍感惊讶。
Evening—certain months of the winter I can see the sun go down out my narrow window. Cold yellow winter sun splintering pale over the icy mountains. I want to gather the gray magic of the wind and sprinkle three dots of blood over the clouds and fly free like a banshee up to the summit. Just fly, like I used to. I'd even come quietly back to my cell after. Fly like I did from old Gregorovitch's house with It in my hand, laughing, joyous. I seem to recall dancing about the room with you when I scared up that spell from the old Dark tomes. Essential tool for the Dark Lord, really, to wing about looking intimidating. But also—joyous.
傍晚——也就是在冬天的这几个月里，我得以从狭窄的窗间窥见夕阳，观赏清冷的日光在雪山上破碎、失色。我想汇聚那些来自风中的灰色魔力，向云层中洒下三个血点，像报丧女妖一样自由翱翔，直至山巅。只是飞翔，就像我曾经那样，甚至我会在这之后安静地回到牢房。像我攥着它从老格里戈维奇的房子冲出来时那样飞翔，大笑着，欣喜若狂。我想起了自己还在害怕从黑魔法卷轴上得到那句咒语时和你在房间里跳的那支舞。黑魔王的基本素养，不是吗，在恐惧之下伸开双翼，但仍旧是快乐的。
Night, and the windowpane is icy, and the moon rolls behind roiling dark clouds. I love the North. Better to live out my life here in the highest tower, looking down over the rocky crags and the wild land, than somewhere in the potted fields of England. Once I traced the path of the Volga with my wand on your bare back, drawing in ice crystals on your skin. They would bloom, feather, soften at the edges, bead, slide down along your spine, and you would moan, so soft.
夜里的时候，窗户玻璃上结了层冰花，月亮也躲进滚涌的乌云之后去了。我深爱北方，在这高塔之上了却余生不过乐意至极。自上俯瞰岩崖峭壁、无垠荒野，好过整日对着连麦田都少有的英格兰。我曾试着用魔杖在你背上描摹过蜿蜒的伏尔加河，冰晶随杖尖沿路弥漫。它们绽放开，似柔羽，水珠化作边缘，延着你光裸的背脊滑落。怀里传来一声细细的呜咽，你哀哀叫着，声音很轻很轻，令我几乎都不能察觉。
The same on my windowpane when my warm hand touches it, the melting, but silent. No other human voice. Not ever.
当手心的温度再次触及那些冰花时，它们仍旧还会融化。只是再也听不见任何声音，也什么都不会剩下。
Taffy days, Albus. You threw me over and locked me up in here. Now leave me in peace with your Neville and your Jinny.
像太妃糖一样粘稠的时光，阿不思。你就这么把我一个人丢下，锁在这里。现在，让我去和你的纳威和詹妮待上一会。
Sulkingly yours,
生着气的，你的，
注：
1.对对对就是这一章，我当时抄手写信的时候差点没给我累死，整整五大页羊皮纸（A4大小）家人们！格皇虽然感觉不是话痨但是憋了那么久我等的急死，翻译起来又累死（扶额）。插一句题外话，最后一个结尾真的好有感觉，那种宠溺的语气天呐。是谁的嘴角跟太阳肩并肩去了，是我！
2.上一封信里格皇已经试探成功了，知道邓多多心里还有自己位置呢，这回开头直接就喊阿不思了。不得不说原作太太真的太细心了，为GGAD的山羊而战！
3.纳威和金妮是《海浪》中的主人公。感觉格皇嘴上嫌弃，但由于是老婆送的，再加上快闲出病来了，大有可能都看了不止一遍。一想到长着一张征服欧洲的脸的格皇，现在窝在环境恶劣的石墙里面捧着已经对他来说是唯一珍贵的东西，那种反差，我真的会难过。
4.我真的在蝾螈血那里笑拉了，谁懂！newt是蝾螈的意思，也是纽特的名字（哭笑）。我们至今的快乐都是纽特顶着被暗杀的危险换来的。格皇：你以为邓布利多会为你哀悼吗？（傲娇脸）
5.在关于夜晚的那段描写里，我有翻译了“乐意至极”四个字。但是格皇肯定不乐意啊，我在这里只想营造一个说气话的语气。该说不说那段英文描写超级美腻，我光这一段掂量了一个多小时，真的尽力了。
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第7章 第六只猫头鹰
