A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

"Longbottom!" The old lady's voice was as loud as thunder, waving the crutch in her hand in the air, and angrily reprimanded: "How dare you provoke the Veela!!!"

Longbottom was frightened by the sudden roar and stopped on the spot. His eyes were wide open, staring at his grandmother's face twisted with anger. His throat seemed to be blocked by something and he could not make any sound.

"Neville, run." Kind-hearted Susan tugged on his sleeve and shook him hard. He reacted belatedly, turned around mechanically, and stumbled into the crowd.

Breathing heavily, Old Lady Longbottom plodded through them, each step seeming to hammer her displeasure on the floor.

Looking at the back of the old lady, Rogge whispered: "Although the Veela is not beautiful at all when she is angry, her face elongates and turns into a pointed bird head. And the long, scale-covered wings rise from the shoulders. stretch out.

However, they are quite beautiful when they are not angry. And if you turn off the lights, everything will be the same..."

Mrs. Longbottom suddenly turned her head back, her crutch drew an arc in the air, and hit Rogge's leg accurately: "You are not allowed to lead my grandson!"

"Hey." He covered his calf, his voice full of exaggerated pain.

The old lady glared at him, disapproving of his exaggerated acting skills. Her voice was cold: "If it weren't for you, I would never believe that my good grandson would provoke a Veela."

"Old Mrs. Longbottom, the educational philosophy of Hogwarts does not advocate blood prejudice." Rogge argued, with a hint of provocation in his voice: "Besides, Neville is in Gryffindor, you can't say it's because of me. The influence. He just went to meet the big sister, it’s no big deal.”

"No big deal?" Mrs. Longbottom snorted coldly, her gaze like a sword piercing Rogge's face.

She took a deep breath to relieve the anger inside her. She knew her grandson too well. Neville had not been with his parents since he was a child, and she had brought him up. Compared with other wizards of the same age, although he is afraid of himself, he psychologically prefers to be close to older women.

She pointed her crutch at Roger and said angrily: "Roger, if you find a Veela as your girlfriend, see how your mother Jessica teaches you."

Susan was covering her mouth and enjoying herself, with a smile in her eyes. This scene is really rare to see, Rogge was actually taught a lesson by someone else.

On the other side, Sirius was stunned. His eyes were fixed on the bet certificate in his hand, and he muttered: "If you lose, how can you lose?" The five million galleons he betted were instantly wiped out.

Compared with the initial capital of 500,000, he won at least 1.5 million through the World Cup. However, he didn't care how much he won, only the huge wealth he lost.

His eyes were bloodshot and his breathing was heavy, like a lost dog that had been kicked out of a casino. If the World Cup had not ended, he might have gone bankrupt just to win back everything he lost.

"Padfoot?" Lupine shook his shoulders gently, but Sirius was still immersed in his own disappointment.

In desperation, he could only slap him hard. This slap probably had a hint of revenge, because Sirius had once given him the bottle of antidote made from werewolf brains.

After a trance, Sirius finally came to. He looked around with empty eyes, then held on to the railing and slowly stood up straight.

"Moony Face, I lost so miserably." Sirius's voice was full of sadness. He hugged Lupine tightly and cried bitterly like a child weighing nearly 200 pounds.

Who could have expected that the Irish team, which had won consecutively all the way to the final, would lose to the Bulgarian team despite having a huge advantage. Forty years have passed, and Britain still has not touched the glory of the championship trophy.

They watched sadly as the bright light shone and the huge golden cup was carried over. Amelia was not present, so Ludo and Hassan Mous congratulated the Bulgarian players on their victory.

"I think we need a good seeker!" The Irish team player looked at Lin Qi coldly with a depressed face.

In their eyes, Lin Qi was just a follower and had no intention of taking the initiative. Once he looks for an opportunity alone, he will give the opportunity to his opponent. Had he kept pestering Croom, Ireland could have won.

Amid the muted complaints, many people thought of Harry Potter, who defeated Krum in the minor league.

So, everyone's eyes turned to the coach, and they seemed to be asking silently: "Why not make a substitution?"

The one who had the same idea was Sirius, who had just emerged from the shadow of losing. He vowed to train his godson Harry to be the best Seeker, defeat Krum, and win back the lost five million Galleons! No, it’s seven million!

"Draco and Harry's worth will probably skyrocket." Rogge said with a smile.

Susan couldn't understand what he meant and asked Roger with doubtful eyes.

"You see, the Irish team lacks a good seeker. On the contrary, the Bulgarian team lacks a strong chaser. It just so happens that Hogwarts has such talents."

"Ah!" Susan suddenly understood and looked into the distance excitedly, "You mean, they have a chance to become professional Quidditch players?"

"Wow, they are really amazing." Her eyes were shining with admiration. But then, she turned to Rogge and asked curiously: "Rogge, why don't you be a batter? Everyone in Hogwarts knows that the Bludgers you hit are unstoppable."

"Compared to playing ball, I prefer hitting people." Rogge gently touched her head and messed up her hair.

Susan pouted, looked at Rogge's leaving figure, and muttered dissatisfiedly: "It's so rude, what's the good of hitting someone."

"Gentlemen and ladies." Hassan Mous' high-pitched voice attracted everyone's attention, "Before the end of the 422nd World Cup, there is one extremely important thing to announce. This year, we successfully saved a An endangered creature - Golden Snidget."

His figure was projected on the giant blackboard. He opened the cage in his hand, and two golden elves flew out. They soared freely in the air, attracting warm cheers and exclamations from the audience.

Rogge looked back at this spectacular scene, then turned and left Mr. Chairman's personal performance venue. He looked at the hazy night and said silently in his heart: "I'm afraid the Death Eaters' parade is about to begin."

Strangely enough, although the people living in the camp are all wizards, it is Muggle Roberts who manages the camp. He was responsible for renting tents in the stone house and pointing out the location of the tents reserved by the wizards.

Roberts, who knew nothing about the wizarding world, regarded wizards who did not know the pound as foreigners. He even felt that these foreigners had no common sense and actually paid with gold coins the size of beer caps.

As the crowd poured out of the stadium, people headed back to their tents to celebrate. Although Ireland's narrow defeat made all British wizards regretful, the outstanding performance of their opponent Krum allowed the fans to put down their burdens and dance and cheer in the tent.

Tomorrow morning, these tents will magically disappear. Muggles would never know that a world-class sporting event was once hosted here. The wizards waste no time and begin their final carnival. Songs came from all corners, and under the dim starlight, many wizards quietly sneaked into the witches' tents.

"Humph, your good days are over." Barty Jr. said coldly. His men had already tied up the Muggle Roberts family.

"Our carnival begins now!" He pointed his wand at the sky and released a powerful green light.

Immediately afterwards, little Barty and his fellow wizards put on black robes and pointed tricorn hats. Their faces were covered with bone-white skull masks, and they held a torch in one hand and waved a wand in the other.

Songs were replaced by screams, cheers swallowed by fear. The bonfire was knocked away by them, and soon after, harsh sounds like gunshots were heard from all over the camp.

On the swaying double bed, the wizard picked up a piece of clothing and put it on randomly. He opened the tent and saw the mysterious wizards approaching in groups, and was so frightened that he ran away.

The Roberts couple and their two children were magically levitated in the air by a group of wizards. Their bodies were like dough, twisted into various weird shapes, with painful expressions clearly written on their faces.

"That's the Muggle in charge of the tents at the camp!"

Apparently, someone recognized the victim who was being tied up and patrolling the streets. However, more wizards join the procession. Among them, there are both Death Eaters contacted by Barty Jr. and pure-blood wizards who are dissatisfied with the declining world.

This team of black robes and white faces continues to grow, like an army of ants moving in rainy weather, dense and orderly. Any tents in the way will be knocked down mercilessly by them, and some wizards will even use their wands to set fire to the tents along the way, leaving destruction and fire along the way.

"Bubbles." Rogge stood outside the tent and witnessed the atrocities of this group of people. He didn't stop or join in, he just watched quietly.

Bubbles and a group of house elves stood respectfully in front of their master, waiting for his instructions.

In a chaotic escape, people tend to run around desperately and often throw things around. And what if there are children crying and making noise in those abandoned tents?

As a member of the wizarding world, an outstanding student at Hogwarts, a shadow prefect of Slytherin and a pure-blood wizard, Rogge felt that he had a responsibility to maintain the beautiful environment of the wizarding world.

"Take your pockets and go." Rogge smiled with a hint of helplessness and said to himself: "I am really a good wizard who protects the environment."

"As you command, my master." Bubbles and the other elves raised their right arms at an angle of 45 degrees, and performed a newly formulated elf salute to Rogge.

Rogge curled his lips and said with unquestionable majesty in his voice: "Kreacher, get here!"

The old elf rolled himself into a ball and rolled from the grass to Rogge. Although its movements were clumsy, its voice was full of respect: "Master, everything Kreacher does is to satisfy you."

"Do you think the hand-raising ceremony just now was appropriate?" Rogge asked seriously.

"Suitable, couldn't be more suitable." Kreacher followed closely beside Rogge and explained: "Old guy Kreacher can no longer work for his master, but his brain is still somewhat useful. I can teach Bubbles and them , let them understand that the owner is everything to them.”

"Elves don't need reasons or thinking. As long as the master orders us, we must do it, even if it means using our lives." Kreacher's tone was firm, and his eyes flashed with a kind of fanatical loyalty.

It raised its head and looked at Rogge eagerly: "I hope what old Kreacher has done can satisfy his kind and generous master. In this way, I can let the master cut off my head and hang it on the plaque. ." There was a strange satisfaction in its tone, as if this was a supreme honor.

Rogge kicked it lightly and said angrily: "I will consider it."

"Oh, you are truly the most kind master." Kreacher burst into tears. He held the bag and said sincerely: "Old guy Kreacher will definitely help you search for the treasures left by the wizards in the camp."

"What kind of search!" Rogge scolded, his voice was quite stern: "That's to protect the natural environment."

"Yes, Master." Kreacher nodded quickly and got into the dark and empty camp.

It has a sharp eye and can distinguish which are valuable genuine products and which are worthless decorations. The pieces of jewelry, galleons, and magic items that were left behind were all thrown into the pockets. As the wizards fled in panic, Bubble even picked up a pink gem the size of a pigeon egg.

"Master is indeed right." Paopao's eyes showed infinite respect, and his heart to protect the natural environment became even more passionate.

Of course, if they encounter lost children, they will also use apparation to send them out. As for the lost items you accidentally picked up, just treat them as rewards for being helpful.

Rogge stood quietly on the roadside, observing the dark night parade of this group of wizards. They turned Mrs. Roberts over so that she was face down. Then, the pajamas on her body hung down naturally, exposing the loose lining.

The crowd below screamed and booed happily, trying every possible way to humiliate the Muggle woman. She struggled to cover her exposed body, but her feeble struggle only aroused more fervent jeers and boos.

"The Ministry of Magic is fully responsible for what happened to Muggle families." Rogge raised his camera and took pictures of the crimes of this group of people without hesitation.

Although he did not object to the nonsense of this group of people, he also understood that there were Death Eaters and even Voldemort working behind them. But to embarrass a Muggle family would really bring shame on a pure-blood wizard.

Aurors from all over the UK are rushing here, and the Ministry of Magic staff stationed here are also trying their best to maintain order. However, a hundred thousand wizards in chaos are like a hundred thousand pigs and cannot be managed at all. Especially the group of wizards who caused chaos and the hostages in hand, the staff of the Ministry of Magic were restrained in their actions, for fear of harming them.

"Roger, are you okay?" Hermione's voice came from behind. She was wrapped in pajamas, her face full of nervousness and worry.

"Go into the tent and don't come out." Rogge's tone was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

"Why?" Hermione looked at him puzzled, her eyes full of confusion. But before she could react, Rogge had already pushed her into the tent.

"This is a premeditated march." Rogge's voice came through the tent, and he went on to explain: "Their targets are Muggles and non-pure-blood wizards."

Hearing Rogge's serious words, Hermione's heart couldn't help but twitch: "Are those people pure-blood wizards?"

There was no response from outside the tent, but silence meant everything at this time. Hermione's heart tightened suddenly. She thought of the Roberts family who were treated like dolls, and then thought of herself. Fear and anxiety surged into her heart like a tide, and tears fell involuntarily. At this moment, coming from a Muggle family, she felt an unprecedented sense of helplessness and despair.

"What about you, Roger?" Hermione's voice had a questioning tone, and her eyes looked through the tent, as if trying to see into his heart.

For Hermione, Roger was the first good friend she made in the wizarding world. During her experience at Hogwarts, she regarded the other person as the most important person to her. Under the troll stick at Easter, in the library, in the sky of the Forbidden Forest, in the magic car... She didn't know what she would do if Rogge gave an answer she couldn't accept!