A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

"Yes, we swear to Merlin! We never touched him!" Ron nodded vigorously.

To their surprise, Dumbledore did not question or criticize them, but instead smiled. It seems that when a bird catches fire and turns to ashes, it is a good thing.

"It's almost time," he said. "It looked so scary for many days, and I kept urging it to move quickly."

Dumbledore noticed the shocked expressions of the two people and couldn't help but smile: "Fox is a phoenix. When the phoenix is ​​about to die, it will burn itself and then regenerate from the ashes. I didn't expect that it would choose today... "

Before Dumbledore could finish speaking, a small, wrinkled baby bird poked its head out of the ashes. A hairless phoenix is ​​not as good as a chicken, it looks ugly. But in Dumbledore's eyes, small ones are also very cute.

"Charming creature." Dumbledore leaned down and looked at it lovingly.

"They can carry unimaginable weights, and their tears have the power to heal all manner of magical and non-magical harm. And they are especially loyal companions."

Dumbledore touched the chick lovingly and sat down behind the table.

"It's a pity that you saw it on the day of Phoenix's Nirvana. It was actually very beautiful most of the time, with amazing red and gold feathers all over its body."

When Dumbledore sat down in the high-backed chair, Harry remembered the reason why they were here from his light blue, penetrating eyes.

"Principal, it wasn't us! We didn't destroy the bathroom!"

"The faucet inside didn't work for some reason. We were just passing by."

"Yes, there is Myrtle in it. She kept crying in the bathroom and didn't see who broke it."

"If it wasn't for a leak, why would we have gone to the girls' restroom."

…

"I know." Dumbledore raised his voice. "I don't think you would intentionally break the bathroom faucet."

"Mr. Weasley, I would like to have a few words with Potter alone, is that okay?" Dumbledore looked at Ron with a smile. Ron nodded and glanced at Harry worriedly.

As Ron left, Dumbledore's expression became serious. He stared at Harry and said, "Potter, I want to talk to you."

Harry lowered his head and waited nervously. He tangled his hands together and glanced at Dumbledore secretly, not understanding what the headmaster wanted to ask.

"I have to ask you, Harry. Is there anything you would like to tell me?" Dumbledore tried to slow down his tone and use a soft tone so as not to make Harry nervous.

"Anything goes."

Harry stood there stunned, with many things spinning in his mind. Escaped from the Dursleys during the summer and spent happy time with Weasley at the Burrow. He also thought of the fight at Flourish and Blotts, how arrogant and rude the Malfoys were.

He opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to say to Dumbledore. He thought of the Patil sisters helping to brew Polyjuice Potion, and of hearing the ghostly voice twice. There is also a notebook he picked up from the bathroom, which is lying in his arms. Some people even think that he has Slytherin blood...

Finally, Harry looked up into Dumbledore's eyes and whispered, "No."

"Nothing, sir."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, without any change in his expression. He ended the conversation and looked at Harry's leaving back, deep in thought.

"Oh, Dumbledore, this kid is very worried." The portraits on the wall woke up immediately, and everyone was noisy and talking about Harry and Ron.

"Maybe he's scared, Albus."

"He broke a bunch of school rules with the red-haired boy."

"I think children at this time have a lot of worries."

"That's right, for example, the witch suddenly stopped talking to me. Her prank was revealed, or she was troubled by the professors' homework..."

Dumbledore listened to the quarrels of the previous headmasters and looked at Armando's portrait. He is his former principal, who resigned due to the secret room incident fifty years ago.

"Quiet!" Dumbledore said seriously, "Don't guess at the students."

The portraits fell silent.

"Armando, you should know that the murderer is someone else." Dumbledore looked at the portrait and said to him, "Hagrid is definitely not the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets."

"I know, of course I know!" Armando in the picture frame nodded repeatedly, "But he raised dangerous creatures in violation of regulations. Werewolf cubs, giant spiders, running into the forbidden forest without permission... These behaviors really deserve punishment."

"Albus, you know, his behavior was not excessive at all and he was expelled. You were the Transfiguration professor at the school at the time, and you should understand the pressure I was under. If possible, I also want to handle the two things separately."

The other portraits were silent after hearing this, and the successive principals in the painting had their own opinions on Armando's handling of the matter. Hagrid is not the murderer, but why is he chosen as the scapegoat?

"Albus, you should issue a warning or even suspend the class. The petrified cat was just an appetizer. You and I both know that the things in the secret room can really kill students. You have to be careful and don't make the same mistake I did. "

Dumbledore sat behind the desk and said firmly: "As long as I am here, no student will be harmed."

Fifty years ago, he had doubted Tom Riddle, but he had no evidence, so he could only remain skeptical. When Tom reported that Hagrid had killed Myrtle, Dumbledore was surprised and surprised. Since then, he has been wary of Riddle.

He did not deny Tom's excellence. Prefect, student council president, 12 OWLs certificates, Hogwarts Special Contribution Award... everything proved that he was extremely talented.

He will become a great wizard! That was the consensus of everyone in the school about him.

Later, Tom became the Dark Lord, a terrifying dark wizard who cannot be nominated.

"Is Tom back?" Dumbledore looked at where Harry was standing just now and said to himself. Harry does not have the blood of the Gaunt family, so what is going on?

A few days later, Hermione took Roger to visit Hagrid's cabin. They were going to ask if the chicken blood on the wall came from here.

She knocked on the door, and Hagrid saw Hermione happily inviting her in. However, he noticed Rogge behind him and snorted.

The inside of the room was larger than it looked from the outside, but Hagrid, who was over three meters tall, had to lower his head when standing inside. His back was to the burning fireplace, still wearing his oversized moleskin coat.

Yaya stayed by the fire to keep warm, and saw Rogge coming in, baring his teeth and growling. Roger glared at it, and it quickly covered its face with its paws. Hermione poked him secretly, signaling Hagrid not to irritate him.

"Hermione, how have you been lately? It's been a long time since you've been here!" Hagrid made tea for her and took out the freshly baked rock biscuits.

Roger couldn't help but feel lucky when he saw Hermione's troubled face. Fortunately, I'm not Hagrid's friend, so I don't have to accept his gifts. This tooth-gnawing food really fits the dark style of British cuisine.

"It's good. I made a lot of new friends at the Jackdaw Magical Society." Hermione looked around the room and noticed a plucked chicken on the table.

"Hagrid, are you going to cook?"

"What do you mean?" Hagrid brought her a cup of tea and put the teapot aside for Roger to pour it himself.

"This is the fifth one to die, and the other two have gone to unknown places." Hagrid complained. I don’t know if it’s because of the cold, but his chickens are dying one by one.

Hermione hesitated for a moment and decided to get straight to the point: "Hagrid, we're here to ask you a few questions."

"Oh? What's the question, about magical creatures? I'm very good at this!" Hagrid said confidently.

"Thrilling words appeared in the castle, and Mrs. Filch was petrified..." Hermione thought about how to word her words. "After investigation, we found that this matter may be related to you. I just want to know if you have noticed it recently. Anything unusual?"

Hagrid's expression changed drastically and he shook his head hurriedly: "No, no, everything is normal, don't worry about it!"

After saying that he was about to push them out, Roger quickly handed the letter to Hagrid.

"What is this?" Hagrid couldn't quite understand the data above.

"Look at the last line. The sample has been tested to be chicken blood." Rogge pointed out to him.

"Oh, my God!" Hagrid's eyes widened and he looked at them in surprise: "Are you talking about the bloody writing on the wall? I thought..."

"What do you think?" Hermione asked him.

"No, no. I guessed wrong!" Hagrid quickly denied,

Hermione stared at him, and she saw something strange in his eyes - Hagrid was obviously hiding something.

"So, my chicken didn't die of a cold, but was killed by someone else?" Hagrid turned to look at Rogge, who was minding his own business pouring tea.

"That's right. You should check the chicken coop carefully to see if the murderer has left any clues." Rogge put down the teacup and looked at Yaya.

"Didn't your hound sound the alarm?"

"Ya Ya will go out with me on patrol at night. You can't blame it."

"Hagrid, that means the murderer is very familiar with you." Hermione nodded, "He knows when you go to work. So you are not there every time you come, and Fang can't find it."

"That must be the case! Who the hell is it?" Hagrid looked very angry and his expression was very fierce. He looked at Rogge angrily, thinking that he wouldn't do such a boring thing.

"Instead of doubting me, it's better to go and see the chicken coop." Rogge reminded again.

Hagrid reluctantly followed Rogge's suggestion, and the three of them went to the back of the house. All the pumpkins in the vegetable patch had been picked for Halloween decorations, leaving only a few yellowing vines.

The pink umbrella was leaning against the back wall, and Roger couldn't help but be attracted by the dazzling color. He thought of the pink earmuffs in the greenhouse. If they were originally issued to Hagrid, it meant that the school had not updated its facilities in fifty years.

"There is a fence behind the vegetable garden, where I keep my chickens." Hagrid kept paying attention to Roger, saw him looking at the umbrella, and quickly took it in his hand.

"Hagrid, has anyone been here recently?" Hermione looked around. This place was very remote, and she wouldn't have been able to find it unless she deliberately looked for it.

"Harry and the others have been here, as well as Lockhart and Ginny." Hagrid became very angry when he thought of Lockhart and kept complaining.

"He also taught me how to prevent water monsters from getting into wells." Hagrid said angrily, venting his dissatisfaction with Lockhart to them, "As if I didn't know. He also bragged to me about how he drove away female ghosts. Hum. , if one sentence in it is true, I will eat the umbrella."

This was the first time Hermione had seen Hagrid criticize the teachers at Hogwarts, something he had never done before.

"Hagrid, I think you are biased against Professor Lockhart." Hermione frowned and said in a slightly higher tone, "He is the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher appointed by Principal Dumbledore. He has so many titles... …”

"Alas!" Hagrid and Rogge looked at each other in unison, rarely reaching a consensus on Lockhart's annoying title issue.

These days, when he meets everyone, he tells everyone that he is a recipient of the Order of Merlin, Level 3, an honorary member of the Anti-Dark Arts Alliance, and has won the "Wizard Weekly" Most Charming Smile Award five times...

Finally, she smiled coquettishly and said with a pose: I will not talk about honor. He kept chattering all day long, and the ears of the teachers and students at Hogwarts were calloused by his honor.

"Hermione, don't be fooled by his appearance." Hagrid muttered, not knowing who he was talking about.

"If you say he is a scholar, I don't believe it, but if you say he is a liar, I have no doubts. Alas, it is very difficult to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor now. People are unwilling to do it because this job is unlucky. .”

"Unlucky?" Hermione looked at Hagrid doubtfully.

He didn't say much, but Rogge added: "There is a curse on the Defense Against Dark Arts professor position in our school. No one can hold the position safely for more than one year."

"Curse! There is such a terrible curse!" Hermione was shocked when she learned about this kind of thing for the first time.

"That's right, ranging from serious injuries to death. In short, the fate is very tragic." Rogge thought of Lockhart's cheerful look and said softly, "I think Lockhart must disdain the so-called curse if he dares to accept this position. After all, he is the famous Lockhart, an honorary member of the Alliance Against Dark Arts."

Hermione frowned: "Maybe it's just a coincidence. You can't draw any conclusions without evidence."

"Okay, let's check the chicken shed first." Hagrid lowered his head and began to count the chickens inside. 1, 2...7, the remaining chickens were not dead, he was a little puzzled.

"What's wrong?"

"It's strange that the chicken killer is no longer here. The remaining chickens are alive and well."

"Really?" Hermione stepped forward to check in confusion.

She walked around the fence several times, but found no clues except some scattered chicken feathers.

"Hagrid, are these hens?" Roger reminded.

"Yes... when you say that, all the dead ones are roosters."

Rogge shook his head, trembling with anger, what happened to the rooster? What's the difference between a rooster and a hen? Why only kill the rooster and not the hen? Voldemort's proper discrimination!

"Cock!" Hermione's eyes lit up and she confirmed again, "Not a single hen is dead?"

"No."

Hermione nodded. The other party specialized in killing roosters, so there must be some conspiracy.

"Could the things in the secret room have anything to do with cocks?" Hermione's clever little mind came up with a bold idea, and she said hello and ran to the library.

They were the only two left at the edge of the woods. Rogge looked at him and methodically took out a stack of photos from his pocket.

"For me?" Hagrid frowned, took the photo and looked at it.

The more he looked, the tighter his brows became, and the darker his face became. The anger in his head surged visibly.

"You...you threatened me?" Hagrid roared at Rogge angrily, "I didn't kill Myrtle! I didn't open the secret room..."

"The blood of giants always makes people so irrational?" Rogge locked his throat with his backhand, stretched out his index finger and shook it, signaling him to put down his umbrella.

"Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, I am not a fool. You have been a ranger at Hogwarts for so many years without any problems. I will not be naive or stupid enough to think that you deliberately opened the Chamber of Secrets this year."

"I just wanted to ask a few questions, please calm down, okay?"

Hagrid nodded, and Rogge used his sharp tongue to break the spell as usual.

"Rogg, what do you want to do to me with the files from that year?" Hagrid felt a little uneasy. He never believed that there were good people in Slytherin.

"Don't be nervous. There is a name on it named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Did he report you to the school?"

"Yes, that's him!" Hagrid was a little flustered. This man was Voldemort.

"He is Voldemort, can you believe what he says?" Rogge asked.

"You..." Hagrid took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the umbrella.

"I can't believe it!" Hagrid said firmly, "He put the blame on me and caused me to be expelled from school!"

"The Ministry of Magic believes that I killed Myrtle, but I have never seen her. If Dumbledore hadn't insisted on defending me, the Ministry of Magic would not have simply broken my wand."

"After Tom became Voldemort, no one cared about what he had done before. The Ministry of Magic did not re-investigate the matter, and even his trophy is still displayed in the castle."

"Actually, I think the school did nothing wrong by expelling you." Roger looked at Hagrid's frown and smiled contemptuously, "I said last year that you always raise some dangerous magical creatures."

"Maybe to you, the fangs and claws of those guys are harmless. But you should think about it, there are a lot of underage wizards living in the castle."

"Since you live in Hogwarts, you are less like a giant and more like a wizard. But then again, have you never doubted Tom?"

"Tom? He performed so well. He is a Slytherin prefect..."

"But he is Voldemort." Rogge emphasized.

Hagrid was stunned. Roger was right. Tom is Voldemort, he is the best at playing with people's hearts.

"I..." Hagrid opened his mouth. No matter how you look at it, Tom is more like the heir of Slytherin.

"What if..." Rogge took Hagrid's umbrella and turned it around in his hand. "If the truth comes out one day, will you be willing to be a witness?"

"Witness? Me!" Hagrid looked at the other person in confusion.

"Although you have giant blood, you are at least Voldemort's enemy." Rogge explained. "The other party will come back sooner or later, and sometimes it is inevitable to cooperate with the enemy."

"Rubber, you can't use an umbrella." Roger threw the umbrella to him.

It would be too cheap for Riddle if he just destroyed Riddle's diary with his fangs in the end. What Rogge really wants to do is burn his evil in the Wizengamot with fierce fire.