A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Rogge reached out to grab it, and Jessica turned around and hid the photo in her arms. Her smile was full of happiness, and she looked like she was thinking hard: "Such a precious photo must be kept in a photo album."

"Okay, stop making trouble and go help!" Jessica pushed her son over because more and more wizards came to buy cameras.

Rogge enthusiastically introduced various camera models to customers, and at the same time took out exquisite lenses and patiently explained how to capture the perfect moment. Susan was busy waving her magic wand, causing the wrapping paper with the pattern of elk and crutches to automatically package the goods.

"No. 26 Knockturn Alley, we need five rolls of panda photo paper and three bottles of Flash Revealing Tincture..." Jessica took the order and shouted in the direction of the warehouse.

"Can't they just come and get it themselves?" Susan muttered dissatisfiedly, handing the package tied with a bow to the owl waiting to take off.

Ever since the Flash Golem House launched its delivery service, some wizards have become increasingly lazy. Although it was only a few steps away, Owl had to go there in person with the package.

"No. 28 Spider End Alley, we need 3 dragon skin cameras and a set of lenses." When Jessica read out the order, she couldn't help but froze, thinking that it was really strange for this wizard to order three cameras at once. . And only order the machine, not the photo paper and developing tincture.

…

I was busy until eight o'clock in the evening, and the last order was finally processed. The three of them lay down on the sofa exhausted, not even wanting to move a finger. The parrot Lingqua also fell on Susan tiredly, its throat almost smoking from constantly saying "Welcome".

The owls who returned from the delivery took a leisurely walk in the store, eating delicious freeze-dried food and drinking warm water. Rogge seriously suspected that these little guys must have been lazy on the way. The guy with the three black stripes on his tail went to Knockturn Alley to deliver goods all day long!

"Roger, is there anything to eat?" Susan shouted weakly.

"Saltine crackers?"

"No. I want Crucible Bread!"

Roger knocked on the golden cup, and serious Tom quickly brought out the bread: "Here, go on."

"Would you like a drink?" He said and took out three bottles of fruity drinks from the golden cup.

Jessica glanced at it, took the drink and muttered: "This golden cup looks so familiar."

"Imitation." Rogge explained quickly, but his tone contained a hint of guilt. After all, my mother graduated from Hufflepuff, so she was naturally familiar with the golden cup of the founder of the academy.

She didn't continue to ask, just held her son in one hand. She tapped the golden cup with her wand and whispered, "Herb turkey."

The badger on the golden cup flashed a few times, but did not deliver the food Jessica wanted. Jessica shook her head regretfully: "I thought I could violate the Gamp Basic Law."

"It's not that magical, it's just a large food warehouse. Besides, turkey is so unpalatable, let's eat something else." Rogge said, tapping the golden cup again and letting it deliver a strawberry cake.

The three of them sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, eating strawberry cake and chatting about interesting things. Susan solemnly took out the chessboard and shouted to Rogge: "Let's play a game of Wizard Auto Chess!"

"Long live the Queen..." The voice landed on Susan's shoulder with a clear voice, cheering for the master.

Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows of the store, pieces of crystal snowflakes were falling. The cold Christmas wind blows through the streets of Diagon Alley, and the bells on the wooden doors make a sweet sound. A garland of holly and mistletoe gently flutters its green leaves.

They chatted and laughed heartily in front of the warm fireplace, enjoying the quiet and warm night.

On the other side of London, No. 12 Grimmauld Place, the ancient mansion of the Black family, is like a damp and dirty prison embedded in a Muggle building. The cold wind in winter seems to dislike this place, unwilling to blow away any dullness.

Kreacher, the elf in this family, is loyal but full of resentment. He throws away dirty clothes and garbage according to the instructions of his mistress.

Dirty and rotten, this was Sirius's first impression after returning home after several years. Without those annoying relatives, it still looks suffocating.

This seems to be a reflection of the fate of the Black family, chaotic and in no need of sorting out.

He stood in the center of the living room, staring intently at the portrait of his mother on the wall. Walburga Black.

Her portrait reveals endless severity and contempt, and her voice passes through the canvas, sharply rebuking: "immoral guy, dirty bastard, the scum of the family, dirty son of a bitch..."

Sirius' face was as gloomy as water, and he clenched the candle in his hand. How he wanted to throw the surging flames from the candle at that chattering face and burn her and the whole house to the ground.

But in the end, he just closed the curtains to cover up his mother's portrait, letting the sharp rebuke disappear in the darkness.

Kreacher watched coldly, and in his unique, contemptuous tone, he expressed his dissatisfaction with Sirius: "It smells like sewers and criminals, a traitor who insults his bloodline. He brings his wolf cubs and comes back to do harm. My mistress’s house…”

In its eyes, Sirius standing here was the biggest stain on the entire family, and it couldn't be erased. He always reminded every portrait on the wall that the traitor who "sullied" the bloodline was back.

Sirius kicked Kreacher's thin body and cursed angrily: "Useless thing, where is the thing left by my brother Regulus?"

Kreacher, who was lying on the ground, heard Sirius' question, his gray eyes shining with disbelief in the dim light.

At that time, only three people knew the secret of the crypt: the Dark Lord Voldemort, the young master Regulus, and himself, a humble elf.

Kreacher swore that he had never told this secret to anyone, not even the mistress of the wall. But now, the treacherous son of this family actually knows that the young master left something behind.

It looked at Sirius without saying a word. No matter how the dirty traitor insulted and scolded him, it was as if it was deaf and didn't know anything.

"Useless things!" Sirius's voice echoed in the dark living room, "What are you doing standing here? Go prepare something for me!"

Kreacher lowered his head and cast a vicious gaze on the cage in the corner of the living room, where the wizard was begging for freedom.

The resentment in its heart turned into a curse on its lips: "The fugitive who came back from Azkaban is actually dictating Kreacher. Oh, my poor mistress. If you see the house turned into a mess by him, you will definitely swear Do not recognize him as his son. I heard that he is also a murderer..."

Kreacher followed Sirius's orders and went to prepare food. But its resentment towards Sirius is just like the filth and darkness of this ancestral home, deeply imprinted on every corner of the house.

Sirius sat on the shabby sofa, staring through the dim light of the candle at the werewolf in the cage who had not yet transformed.

His mood was a bit complicated. When he took the werewolf from Alexander, he still had a trace of sympathy in his heart, thinking that he might be able to let the other person live.

However, when Alexander handed the criminal material into his hands. Seeing the hundreds of evil deeds this guy had done hardened his heart. If Rogge didn't need him to study the werewolf virus, he might not be able to help but torture this guy to death with heartbreaking torture.

Immersed in the darkness of the living room, he slowly fell asleep leaning on the sofa.

Ding dong…

The jingling doorbell came from outside the door, breaking the tranquility of the mansion and waking Sirius up from his dream. His face showed displeasure and irritation at being disturbed. In front of him were the cooled bread and a glass of orange juice with black spots.

"Kreacher, open the door!" Sirius ordered.

Kreacher heard Sirius's call and reluctantly and slowly walked to the door.

When the door opened, a cheerful voice came in: "Merry Christmas."