6、Gellert Grindelwald ...
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September 26th, 1952
1952年9月26日
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.
在想过了所有下流的开场白之后，我觉得——不，我还是以简单的感谢来作为这封信的开始吧。我那富有魅力的闷气，你真他妈会编。几周以来，我已经很久没有笑得这么大声了。
But Muggle literature? Honestly, Albus. Send me the Compendium of Inoffensive Things—then I might refrain from a sulk. This Woolf woman—very strange.
但是麻瓜文学？说实话，阿不思。送我一份不会冒犯的物品简要汇编吧——然后我就可能暂时不会生闷气了。这个叫伍尔夫的女人——真的很奇怪。
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?
而且，摄神取念？不用麻烦了，离我的大脑远一点。时光漫长，哦，是的，像你曾经在我们说话时吮吸着的黏糊糊太妃糖，它在你的手指和你的牙齿之间没完没了地拉长。那个样子太令我分心了，让我的羽毛笔在羊皮纸上不止一次的打滑。但它在我们施咒后爆炸的样子确实令人身心愉悦，你还记得么？绿色的，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...
你还是老样子，根本不会求人。还记得我施咒把你的腿绑在床架上，让你等着我的那次吗？真是可怜啊，你都没有办法维持你的礼貌了。我那时正为没能狠狠地痛扁你一顿而生气……
And my life. This life you reduced me to. Taffy days and memories.
我的人生，是你害我陷入了这样的生活，像太妃糖一样无休止的日夜和回忆。
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：看守来巡视，检查我那些危险的数字占卜笔记。我刚来的时候，他们有时对我很粗暴，他们没有用咒语，只是拳头。其中有个女人——你杀了我的丈夫，她尖叫着，你杀了我的丈夫。过了几年之后，他们就渐渐地停下了，因为我一直嘲笑他们。我和你一样，在目空一切的自负上有着惊人的天赋，阿不思。一种即使牙齿被打碎，捂着青肿的伤口跪在石板上也能咽下喉咙里的血冲折磨你的人们大笑的天赋？这可是生活在监狱里一种不可多得的天赋，远比智慧和魔法强多了。
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?
食物吃起来像烂泥。我瘦了很多。玻璃窗老旧，布满划痕，照不出我现在的模样，但我猜，我现在看起来更像一个骷髅。很难想象我曾经和一个英俊的不列颠天才在河堤上做过爱，是不是？（嗯哼？）
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?
像太妃糖一样漫长的时光。我总是读到视线模糊，停下，再读，断断续续，然后做笔记。或许，我应该把我的图书馆留给你——还是不了，你一定会觉得恶心。我仍然热爱黑魔法，即使我无法实践它。我漫无目的的在古老的传说中寻找它的踪迹。告诉我，老朋友，你还在寻找死亡圣器吗？你独自一人完成了我们的梦想吗？把你的搭档丢入耻辱和牢狱之后，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.
啊，我想起了曾在德姆斯特朗的那段日子，我也曾这样写过我的论文，一边盯着羊皮纸像一个老人一样缓缓落笔，一边瞅着 “强力药剂” 。一不小心，就把羽毛笔蘸进了蝾螈血里。
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.
经常踱步的地板上被我磨损出了浅色的痕迹，三只老鼠被我用镣铐吊在角落里——当它们跑过我的身边时，我把它们的尾巴踩住，掰断它们的脖子，然后用牙齿把它们的皮剥下来。它们慢慢地腐烂，几年之后变得面目全非。这是一种献祭，用来吓唬他们的同类——从此，再也没有老鼠来烦过我。而且你会惊奇地发现，这样的恶臭竟也可以慢慢地习惯。
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——准确的来说，是在冬季的几个月中，我可以看见夕阳在狭窄的窗户中缓缓落下。冬日清冷的阳光被冰山割成碎片。我想去收集那些蜷缩在风中的灰色神迹，在云边洒出三个血点，然后像报丧女妖般飞上天穹之顶。只是飞翔，就像我曾经做的那样。在这之后，我甚至会安静无声地，毫无怨言地回到牢房。飞翔，就像我握着它从老格里戈维奇的房子里冲出来那样，大笑着，欣喜若狂。我好像回想起了当我从古老的黑魔法卷轴中拼凑出某个咒语后，和你在房间里一起跳的那支舞。黑魔王必不可少的基本技能，不是吗，让人心惊胆战的飞翔，但同时也是快乐的。
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, then 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.
午夜，玻璃窗上结满了冰花，月亮在翻滚的乌云中时隐时现。我喜欢这极北之地，可以在高塔上耗尽残生，俯瞰着嶙峋的峭壁和广阔的平原，远胜过英国那点少得可怜的绿化带。有一次，我用魔杖在你光裸的后背上描绘蜿蜒的伏尔加河，在你的皮肤上用冰花作画。它们像花朵，像羽毛，在边缘处慢慢融化成一颗一颗的小水珠，沿着你的脊椎滑落，然后你会轻轻地呜咽。
The same on my windowpane when my warm hand touches it, the melting, but silent. No other human voice. Not ever.
现在当我用温暖的手指触碰窗上的冰花时，它们也会融化，但是太安静了。没有谁的声音响起，从来没有。
Taffy days, Albus. You threw me over and locked me up in here. Now leave me in peace with your Neville and your Jinny.
像太妃糖一样的日子，阿不思。你把我扔下，然后锁在了这里。现在，让我与你的纳威和金妮待一会。
Sulkingly yours,
你生闷气的，敬上，
作者有话说
第6章 Gellert Grindelwald
