A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

"Of course, no problem." Hermione nodded, but reminded: "Hogsmeade is the only wizarding village in the British wizarding world. In addition to money, you also need to be recognized by the villagers."

Neville immediately looked embarrassed. This request was too difficult for him. Delvina is a Veela, not a witch. If you want to win the consent of the villagers, Old Lady Longbottom will definitely receive the news.

"How about you buy a shop in Diagon Alley and let Delvina help you sell herbs?" Rogge gave his own idea. In his opinion, this was a way to get the best of both worlds.

"What a great idea!" Theodore shouted excitedly, "The cheapest shop in Diagon Alley costs 1,000 galleons, and you get a free clerk for free. What a deal!" There was a hint of envy and jealousy in his words. .

"Delaville, do you have any sisters?" He smoothed his hair and said confidently: "I am much richer than Neville..."

"He's just a stingy guy." Pansy was trying to make trouble, with a hint of joking in her tone.

She remembered clearly that Theodore had been talking to her ears for a semester because of Nat. Such stingy behavior she would never forget.

"I don't want to spend a Nat. I even doubt you, Theodore, are you a goblin in human skin. Whoever becomes your girlfriend will have to be a house elf for the rest of his life. In my opinion, you'd better go to Gringotts , find a female seductress." Her words were sarcastic, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

"I agree!" Malfoy said with a smile, "Maybe she can help you make money from Gringotts."

With a faint smile on her face, De Lavelle said softly: "Money is not important to us, we only like people who are like us."

Her eyes were full of tenderness, and the look she looked at Neville was full of love. Neville, who had been treated harshly by his family since childhood, had never felt such love before. His heart was filled with emotion, as if he was melted by the other person's eyes.

"1,000 Galleons?" Neville took out his pocket, and a large pile of gold coins covered the table.

The surrounding guests were dazzled by the golden light, and exclamations came from time to time in the room. The smile on Delavel's face became even stronger, and his eyes looking at Neville became more affectionate.

"The hair growth grass made some money, and the jumping mushrooms also sold well." Neville scratched his hair and tried to remember: "There are also chameleon vines..."

"These should be enough, right?" he asked anxiously.

Theodore smacked his lips, he was indeed a poor man, it would be great if he could put Neville's money into his own pocket. He secretly thought, if he had bought the shop at that time, could he sell it to him now for 1,500 Galleons?

"Oh, I lost five hundred galleons all of a sudden!" He lay on the table, his eyes full of frustration.

"More than enough." Rogge waved his wand, and Garen happily jumped into his pocket.

When the adult wizard in the tavern saw this scene, the greed in his eyes dimmed a lot. Especially considering that this place is near Hogwarts, I don't dare to act rashly.

Rogge looked at the bar, and the Weasley twins drooled at Neville's purse. If he remembered correctly, Harry received the prize money from the tournament and lent it to them to open a joke shop.

But, sorry. No joke shop is as important to Neville's future happiness. Moreover, this is just a purely commercial behavior, and the vacant shops in Diagon Alley will be bought by the one with the highest price.

"Delvina, do you know Diagon Alley?" Neville excitedly hugged the Veela who was a head taller than him, handed her the money bag, and said, "Can you live in..."

Before Neville could say anything, Delvina lowered her head and kissed him lovingly.

"Wow..." All kinds of joking voices suddenly came from the tavern, and there was even a whistle.

Neville's head was like a boiling teapot, hot and steamy. He sent Delvina dazedly behind the fireplace and looked ahead dreamily.

"Roger, what if that Veela is lying to Neville?" Hermione whispered, with a hint of worry in her voice.

Rogge shrugged and said nonchalantly: "If a few Galleons can help Neville see the opponent's true face, then it's worth it."

"I mean, she doesn't really love Neville. She is only willing to be with him for the money and the reputation of the Longbottom family." Hermione insisted on her opinion, worried that Neville would be betrayed by Delvina. Bewitched by beauty and charm.

"If she lied to Neville all her life, do you think it would still be called cheating?"

Faced with Rogge's answer, Hermione was speechless for a long time. She was once called a "Mudblood" by some purebloods. But in comparison, magical creatures like Veela are not even considered "Mudbloods".

Even in some dark ancient manuscripts, Veela is just an item used by wizards to relieve loneliness or vent.

As long as Neville does not fall in love with someone else and there is no external influence, Delvina has no reason to give up on him. Moreover, it seemed that being amorous was too difficult a thing for Neville.

When we returned to school on Sunday evening, the carriage and the wreck were back in their original positions. Roger stood at the window looking at the carriage and wrote in his diary:

Today, self-denial is successful! Voldemort is about to return, how can we stand still? Travel through time and space, try your best, the show is about to begin.

On Thursday night, Roger brewed the potion as planned. He plans to further optimize the initially successful "Mason" and transform it into a medical product suitable for Muggles.

Let those Muggles with scars on their faces and bodies enjoy magical products from the magical world.

Rogge carefully prepared the potion, his technique was skillful and precise. He stirred gently in the crucible, gradually weakening the strength of the potion, transforming the originally disposable "mason" into a medical product that required long-term use.

Finally, after countless dilutions and adjustments, the off-white paste finally turned into a liquid that shines with emerald luster.

Rogge looked at his works and poured them into exquisite conical glass bottles according to the number of dilutions. Under the illumination of the light, the liquid in the bottle looks like emerald, exuding an alluring light.

"Let me call you Jade Water." Rogge nodded with satisfaction and placed the finished product on the medicine shelf. Then he picked up his quill and began to classify the emerald water into different grades.

S-grade jade water has a texture as elastic as jelly, a transparent color, and is as noble as imperial green. This highest-grade product is mainly supplied to the wizarding world, and only a very small amount will enter the Muggle market.

Next is Grade A Jade Water, which looks like green oil and is still very effective in repairing various scars. .

And so on, until the final D-grade emerald water, which looks like ordinary glass water. Although it takes a month to repair scars with it to be effective, and it takes up to three years to completely repair it, its price is very affordable.

1 ml only costs 1 pound, so it’s a no-brainer. Ordinary Muggles can afford it even if they grit their teeth.

This is also the main product that Rogge promotes to the Muggle market. No matter the price or the effect, it is far more reliable than any fairy water. Muggles can enjoy magical products at such low prices, which completely proves that Rogge is doing charity.

He immediately wrote a letter to asset manager Thompson to discuss building a pharmaceutical brand and preparing to start external sales so that more Muggles could benefit from the gifts from the wizarding world.

Rogge was immersed in the plan and thinking about the next project when a piercing scream suddenly came from the castle. The sound broke the tranquility of the night, making the lights in the dim corridor flicker on and off. Filch immediately took action and ran towards the location where the cry came from.

In one hand he held the wand he bought from Ollivander's Wand Shop, and in the other he held an oil lamp. The weak fluorescence emitted by the tip of the wand seemed a little weak in the darkness, as weak as the butt of a firefly compared with an oil lamp.

"That voice... why does it sound so familiar?" Rogge was secretly wondering. He quietly left the tower and used the Apparition Charm to silently approach the scene of the incident.

At the same time, the prefects on night watch were also rushing towards the source of the scream, their footsteps and whispers intertwined in the corridor. Finally, they gathered outside a bathroom door, and the atmosphere was tense and solemn.

"Did any of you take a shower just now?" Filch frowned and glanced at the wizard behind him like a razor blade.

"No, we have been patrolling the night." The prefects replied in unison, confusion written on their faces.

Filch opened the door and a luxurious bathroom came into view. Roger followed closely behind and couldn't help but exclaimed that it was such a wonderful place, it felt as gorgeous as a Roman bathhouse.

The ceiling, walls, floor, pool... everything is made of snow-white marble. Relying on the mineral knowledge he learned from the goblin, Rogge recognized at a glance that this large white texture was mainly produced in Italy.

Beside the bath, about a hundred gold faucets shine. Each handle is inlaid with gems of different colors. In addition, there is a springboard on the side for easy diving.

The windows were hung with snow-white linen and a pile of fluffy white towels were piled next to them. But at this moment, these towels were wet, as if they had just been stepped on.

On the opposite wall, a painting of a mermaid in a gilded frame caught Roger's attention. The mermaid in the painting is immersed in a sweet dream. Her long hair rises and falls gently with every breath, as if she will jump out of the painting at any time.

"I remember that the bathroom was completely empty." The Ravenclaw prefect pointed to the bathtub full of bubbles. His voice was firm and powerful. "Someone must have sneaked in when we weren't paying attention."

The other prefects looked at each other, determination shining in their eyes. They took action one after another and began to carefully search for any possible clues.

An ordinary student dared to steal the prefect's bathroom. This kind of thing will never be tolerated! This is no longer an ordinary prank, it must be dealt a heavy blow!

"Here's a dressing gown!" a prefect suddenly shouted.

"I found a pair of slippers!" Another prefect also found a clue.

They put together a collection of found items, but each claimed they had never seen them. Obviously, these clothes did not belong to any of the prefects.

"What must have happened to that guy, he ran out in a panic." Someone speculated.

Filch grabbed the clothes and said angrily: "I'll go find the principal!"

Rogge stepped out of the way, but his eyes were attracted by the bubbles in the pool. He threw a Knut casually, and the prefects were attracted by the sudden sound.

"Myrtle? Why are you here?" Someone asked in surprise, "Did you see anyone taking a bath here just now?"

The pink-faced Myrtle pouted, "I won't tell you, I won't tell you!"

She let out a string of delicate smiles like silver bells and quickly escaped into the wall.

"Could it be Peeves?"

"No way, Peeves doesn't have to take off his clothes."

"Let's go back to the college now and mobilize everyone to find him. You dare to steal the prefect's washroom. How audacious!" a prefect said indignantly.

"That's right, we can't let him go! His college points will be deducted!" another prefect agreed.

Rogge listened to the quarrel in his ears, yawned and left quietly. Before the second challenge, the wizard who went to the bathroom could not think of anyone other than Harry Potter.

At this time, Harry's face was pale. Wearing his pajamas casually and an invisibility cloak on his head, he sneaked into the Gryffindor dormitory barefoot.

Originally, he followed Myrtle's clues and took the golden egg to the prefect's bathroom to decipher the secret. Who knew that as soon as I took off my clothes, Myrtle came out of the wall.

Harry quickly got into the bathtub full of bubbles, fearing that the ghost lady would see his whole face.

"Harry~" Myrtle shouted softly, "You can hear a different sound when you put the golden egg into the water."

Harry asked her to cover her eyes, then stood up from the bath and put the golden egg in her arms. Then he opened the golden egg, and a gurgling song flowed from the bath.

"Why can't I hear what it's singing?"

"You try putting your head under the water?" Myrtle licked her lips, her eyes flashing with excitement.

Harry took a deep breath and sat under the water. The mermaid's song was so familiar that he swore he must have heard it somewhere.

Just as he was listening to the clues in the song, he suddenly felt a pair of cold hands moving down his back from behind.

"Myrtle?" Harry screamed, "W-what are you doing?"

Myrtle thought Harry was just shy and kissed him with a pout. She even grabbed his vitals with both hands, vowing to have something happen with him.

Harry was frightened by Myrtle, and he ran away in panic holding the golden egg. But because his feet slipped, he fell directly onto the pile of towels and fainted on the spot.

Looking at Harry's completely flat body, Myrtle seized the opportunity and flew over like a hungry tiger pouncing on food. She recalled what she had heard and seen, and used all her methods on Harry.

After a few minutes, Harry gradually came to. He felt a cold breath, three inches below his pelvis, drilling along his spine toward his brain.

He opened his eyes suddenly and saw Myrtle beneath him, making a slurping sound. A feeling of terror arose spontaneously, and Harry immediately let out a heart-rending scream.

"Ah!" He grabbed his nightgown and invisibility cloak and ran out of the bathroom screaming.

"Why?" Myrtle was puzzled by Harry's retreating figure, hiding alone in the bubble and feeling unhappy.

Ron's eyes passed through the dim dormitory and landed on the tightly wrapped and shaking quilt on the bed next to him. He wanted to turn over, face away from Harry, and ignore him.

However, the sound of Harry's trembling and suppressed breathing penetrated the silence of the night and kept getting into his brain. He remembered the nightmare Harry had mentioned, the demonic Lord Voldemort.

With a hint of concern, Ron put on his slippers and walked gently across the cold floor to Harry's bedside.

He raised his wand and gently pulled his quilt in the fluorescent light, "Harry, what's wrong with you?"

Harry was curled up, his face as white as snow, and his lips were trembling. He felt like he was being eaten by Myrtle, and there was only a bone-chilling chill all over his body.

"I...I'm so cold..." Harry's voice was weak and trembling, sounding so pitiful.

Ron reached out and touched Harry's forehead, as if he were touching a piece of sweaty ice. His heart tightened and he immediately suggested, "I'll take you to the campus hospital."

"No, don't!" Harry refused firmly. He didn't want anyone to know what happened tonight. Even Ron, his closest friend.