A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Chapter 199 Uh... Engagement?

Fleur deserves to be of Veela blood, and is even more beautiful than the one born last year.

Hearing Jessica's inquiry, she lowered her head and said, "Not yet."

"Oh, it doesn't matter. You can't rush this kind of thing." Jessica looked at Barbara proudly like a little girl who had grabbed candy.

"You can talk to my son about it. Patronus, it's very simple." Jessica said, pushing Rogge out, "Come on, son, show me your patronus."

Roger's head was full of black lines, and he felt like he was pushed to the front desk by his parents at a family gathering to show off his talents for everyone.

But seeing the look in his mother's eyes, Rogge wholeheartedly agreed.

"Invoke the Divine Guard." He waved his wand gently, and a silver halo erupted from the tip of the wand.

Immediately, a silver raven flew out of the wand and flew around the room.

"What a crow!" Barbara's eyes lit up, not caring about Jessica's pride at all.

"Jessica, it seems that the blood of our Lestrange family has the upper hand. You have to help me divide the inheritance this time!" Barbara grabbed her, her eyes flashing smartly.

Rogge listened to the French in his ears and wondered what they were talking about.

He went to the study room and opened the books on the shelf. They were full of French, and he could only get a few words right.

The most orthodox place in Europe is Rome, otherwise there wouldn't be so many people who recognize their father. Anything that achieved something was claimed to be related to the great Roman Empire.

Shinra, Green Ra, Sanra... From the Atlantic Ocean to the Ural Mountains, people everywhere say that I am Rome.

People regard themselves as Roman heritage, so much so that if they have black hair, they dare to claim to be descendants of Rome.

In fact, Rome is too far away, and this claim to be a descendant of Rome is even more exaggerated.

The real cultural center of Europe is France, which is also the core of European magic culture. If Rogge wants to learn more about European magic, he must be proficient in French.

"How is it?" Rogge put down the book in his hand and looked at Jessica.

"Barbara said that if we help, after she inherits the Lestrange family inheritance, she can share 30% of it with us."

"Only 30%?"

"Well, originally she said she would give us the magic book, but since you don't want it..." Jessica said nonchalantly.

"No." Rogge quickly ran over and helped his mother sit down. "We are all relatives, so we can help if we can."

"I know that you boy likes to collect books. Tell me the truth, did you steal the books in our manor?" Jessica rolled her eyes at him as she watched her son open the folding fan and fan himself aside.

"Why is it stealing?"

"Oh, why did I hear from Alexander that there was a fire in the Muggle library in Russia?"

"Oh... I am here to save books and protect human heritage. Wouldn't it be a pity to leave such precious knowledge to a group of Muggles for safekeeping?"

"Saving books? I think you are just a sniffer." Jessica shook her head, "After collecting so many books, how many have you read? They will just eat dust if you keep them at home."

"If you don't look now, you will look later. So, how can we help?"

Jessica pulled her son over and whispered: "You and Fleur are engaged."

"What?" Rogge looked at his mother in surprise. He admitted that Furong was very beautiful, but how could the mother sell her son for a little inheritance?

"Because my patron saint is a crow?" Rogge asked doubtfully.

"Of course." Jessica nodded, "It's also because you have the blood of the Lestrange family in your body. Corvis VI wants to find an heir with pure blood.

What is purity? Patronus of blood and crows. Besides that woman Lita, is there anyone else who can compare? "

Jessica looked at her son's appearance and said quietly: "If you don't want to, you can teach Furong how to summon gods to protect him."

"Huh..." Rogge breathed a long sigh of relief, "I was scared to death."

"I knew you didn't want to. Are you thinking about the witch in your school?"

"Where is it..." Rogge's face suddenly turned red.

"Huh, I don't know about you yet?" Jessica nodded his head, "The Travis family has always been married to pure bloods, so don't follow your principal's lead."

Rogge curled his lips. He had long discovered that Jessica didn't like Hermione that much. It's just that it's too early to talk about this kind of thing now...

"Fleur is waiting for you at the door. She is going to take you to have your dress made. Old Corvis is going to hold a banquet tonight."

"I got it." Rogge nodded. He spent an afternoon learning to summon the gods to protect him, which was a bit stressful.

Jessica watched her son leave the house and sighed quietly.

"Jessica, it's not easy to learn how to call the God Guard. Even if you succeed, it may not be a crow." Barbara looked at Jessica in confusion, implying why she wanted to tell Rogge frankly.

"If you don't tell him, he won't understand French. Can't you just hide it from old Covis once and then cancel it?"

"That's my son, I'm not willing to lie." Jessica glared at Barbara, and she had to withdraw her objection.

On the Champs Elysées, Fleur and Roger approached a century-old store called Ryder. She lowered her head all the way, not daring to look back at Rogge, not knowing that Rogge had rejected Barbara's proposal.

As soon as you enter this tailor shop, a strong old-style aristocratic atmosphere hits your face. The shop is decorated with retro golden hanging lamps, and the walls are covered with all kinds of complicated and luxurious men's dresses. Exquisite crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, bringing soft lighting to the entire store.

An old gentleman tailor was conducting a final fitting for a customer. He was wearing a perfectly tailored dress, elegant in style, showing the typical French aristocratic style.

"Hello, we need to order a formal banquet dress." Fleur explained their requirements to the clerk.

"Formal family banquet? Of course, Leder Tailor Shop can make any dress." A short, bald clerk waved his wand, and clothes of various fabrics, colors, and styles flashed in front of the two of them.

The clerk looked at Roger with concern: "Oh, sir, you have such a good figure."

The tape measure in his hand was running around Rogge's body. He pinched the orchid and couldn't help but sigh, "It's rare to see a wizard with such a strong body."

Roger felt a chill behind him, why did this clerk speak so strangely.

"Fu Rong, why don't we change the store?" Rogge asked quietly.

Fleur smiled beside her and whispered to Roger: "This is the best tailor shop in France."

"Are you from England?" The clerk heard their conversation and spoke in English with a thick French accent.

"Yeah." Rogge nodded, having difficulty hearing what he said.

"I've heard about the extraordinary clothing store in Diagon Alley. To be honest, your sense of fashion is as good as British food in the desert."

Roger listened to his awkward English and couldn't help but think of Snape. The clerk's venomous tongue can be compared with the teacher's.

"The attire of a noble wizard includes a formal jacket, vest, and trousers. I recommend you choose a long coat with double rows of gold buttons."

"Okay." Rogge nodded and let the clerk tailor him like a wooden man.

"How about a turtleneck shirt? No tie, just a fancy placket."

"A big wrinkled plate?" Rogge shook his head. He didn't want anything strange.

"What about Rococo style?"

"I'm a British wizard, so I don't need to be so retro."

"Well, it seems that you are indeed not suitable for such gorgeous clothes."

Rogge nodded quickly, you are absolutely right.

Rogge chose a dark blue velvet fabric, which looked luxurious and elegant. The cuffs and neckline of his gown were inlaid with delicate gold embroidery, adding a touch of luxury.

Ryder's tailor also chose a matching silk bow tie, a black top hat and a special-occasion trimmed cape to complete the ensemble.

After several fittings and fine-tuning, Roger's custom gown was finally complete. There are more than a dozen pieces in one set, large and small. Rogge stood numb all over.