A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Bellingrum frowned unhappily and complained loudly: "Doing business with you is worse than dealing with Death Eaters."

"So, you have a deal with them?" Rogge's eyes were like sharp arrows, tightly locked on Bellingrum, and his tone was tentative: "This is not a good idea, the Dark Lord is destined to lose."

"Impossible, absolutely impossible..." Bellingrum looked at Rogge's resolute eyes, and couldn't help lowering his voice and falling into self-doubt, "He has become the king of the East Coast, how could he return to England. Does he have to fight Dumbledore?"

In Bellingrum's eyes, Voldemort has unparalleled power and is fully capable of ruling the entire American continent and establishing his own magic kingdom. Those dark wizards, gray wizards, and excluded magic races who are dissatisfied with the "Statute of Secrecy" can find their own world there.

How could such a promising and money-making future collapse overnight and be wiped out by other magic forces?

Moreover, he got accurate news from the American goblins that there were signs of division within the American Magic Congress. Many wizards in the Congress believed that it was not shameful to join if they could not defeat the other party.

They firmly believed that even if they became Death Eaters, it would not shake their status and power. On the contrary, they could get things that they had never dared to think of before.

As for the condemnation of Dumbledore and the International Magical Federation, the powerful Voldemort could bear it completely. Even if he was defeated in the end, they could claim that they were under the control of the Imperius Curse.

This strategy was once used by British pure-blood wizards, and now it seems that it can be repeated. Even if it will attract some infamy, they don't care about it.

This leads to the goblins' wavering position, because they are creatures that follow wealth by nature. If the British wizarding world cannot provide enough benefits, Bellingrum does not mind transferring Gringotts' wealth elsewhere.

Roger chuckled mockingly, with a hint of teasing in his voice, and said softly: "Mr. Dark Lord's brain is not normal. He cut his soul into pieces, and there are always some strange ideas coming out."

"For example, go to the Ministry of Magic to find something; then all in Hogwarts, and fight Dumbledore to the death. "

"Is he crazy?" Bellingrum shouted in surprise, "I don't think there are any valuables in the Ministry of Magic. Even the Department of Mysteries only stores some strange magic props."

"As for your magic school? Maybe the castle and the land are still valuable." It shook its head, completely disagreeing with Roger's guess, "If I were the Dark Lord himself, I wouldn't come back. Isn't it nice outside?"

"Hehe, so you are just the king of goblins, not the Dark Lord." Roger chuckled and continued, "If he dies, what do you think will happen to the wizards, giants, and werewolves who followed him? And your American compatriots."

Bellingrum was like being poured with a bucket of ice water, and instantly calmed down from greed. It recalled the result of the last war in its heart, the Death Eaters were either killed or thrown into Azkaban.

But they are wizards, and he is a goblin, and the fate of the two is not comparable. The most important thing for the fairies to do is to remain neutral and impartial. Even if this does not bring any gains, at least there will be no losses.

After all, this is a fight between evil wizards. The more intense the fight, the more the fairies should applaud.

"Don't threaten me!" Bellinrum shouted in a cowardly manner, "We didn't do anything!" It waved the agreement just signed and asked Rogge to return the projector to itself.

"There's actually nothing in it." Rogge smiled and let it take the projector away.

Bellingrum's face instantly turned as green as a vegetable leaf. It gritted its teeth, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from its teeth: "You shameless liar, black-hearted robber! I curse you..."

"Hey, don't talk nonsense! Be careful, I will sue you for defamation at the Ministry of Magic! Defamation, understand?" Rogge glared at it and warned, "There is a lava well in my manor, this is true."

"Humph, who would believe you, a big liar!" Bellingrum muttered unwillingly, blaming himself for his stupidity. It should check the so-called evidence in Roger's hand before negotiating compensation.

"In fact, I suggest that you diversify your investments. After all, don't put all your eggs in the same basket." Rogge raised a sly smile at the corner of his mouth and put forward his own suggestions, "For example, completely cut off contact with the American goblins and apply to fight side by side with the Aurors instead."

"Impossible! We don't even have a wand..." Bellingrum's eyes were stunned, and he understood something instantly. It smiled cunningly and declared loudly, "We fairies are part of the magic world, and we must contribute our strength to peace."

"That's right!" It firmly affirmed itself, and then continued to explain, "We fairies need our own voice, we must show our position to the world!"

"Dragon Crystal Mirror, your only choice." Rogge whispered softly, and it sounded like the whisper of an ancient god to Bellinrum.

It roared angrily: "Damn it, I feel like I've been fooled, you must have done it on purpose!"

"1 Galleon, this is the highest price I can offer!" Bellinrum took out the gold coin just now and handed it over distressedly.

"First of all, I don't need your money." Rogge said calmly, "Secondly, after you die, the magic mirror should be returned to me."

Bellinrum stood there awkwardly. According to the goblin's concept of property rights, Rogge's words were indeed correct. However, this is too unfair to it! It has already paid the money, how can it return the things?

"No, sir!" Bellinrum immediately retorted, "We should follow the business principles of wizards. If you don't agree with my price, why don't we barter?"

"Barter?" Rogge pondered for a moment, thinking in his heart whether it is worthwhile.

The goblins have been operating in the magic world for so many years, constantly digging the pharaoh's tomb, and they must have collected some precious treasures.

If the dragon crystal magic mirror can be exchanged for other magic props, it would be a good deal. Rogge nodded and agreed immediately.

He followed Bellinrum to the interior of the palace and soon came to the edge of an underground pit. Obviously, the last eruption of magma had a serious impact here, and many items in the pit were burned into unrecognizable residues.

Rogge pointed to the messy obsidian and questioned: "Isn't this a garbage dump?"

"Treasure house, this is our treasure house!" Bellinrum shook his head firmly and refuted righteously, as if he had been greatly wronged and insulted.

Just as Rogge was about to refuse, he suddenly felt a strange spiritual power.

"Papyrus?" He remained calm on the surface and used his magic wand to clear away the upper garbage bit by bit.

Bellinrum thought he had found something precious. He stood nervously at the edge of the pit, scratching his head anxiously, "Is it a loss? But there are worthless garbage in here."

An hour passed, and Rogge was still searching aimlessly, and Bellinrum's uneasiness was gradually dissipating.

"Give me the slate at your feet." Rogge suddenly said.

"This?" Bellinrum quickly picked up the black slate, examined it carefully, and even knocked it to try to identify its material.

In the end, he was sure that it was just an ordinary marble building material, so he threw it to Rogge.

"Not this, the one behind you."

"It's not white, it's green." Rogge's heartbeat accelerated, and his mood was slightly calmed until Bellinrum threw the jade slate to him.

This slate was only the size of a palm, and the front was engraved with runes as thin as mosquitoes and ants. The mental power fluctuations it exuded made Rogge's thinking extremely fast and sharp.

After a simple translation, he quickly recognized the true identity of the slate. This was not the emerald slate from Atlantis, but a translation slate made by Egyptian priests.

According to historical records, there were 10 such slates, collectively known as "The Slate of Tut". Later, for convenience, they were divided into 13 parts.

The piece in Rogge's hand was one of them. Although he couldn't be sure which piece it was, as a thought accelerator, the effect of the slate even exceeded that of Ravenclaw's crown.

Bellinrum was overjoyed and said in his heart: "What a fool, he exchanged garbage for a magic mirror, and made a lot of money this time!"

But he didn't know that Rogge, who pretended to be sad, was also satisfied. For him, exchanging a dragon crystal magic mirror for a jade slate was no longer a bargain but a bargain.

They both ended the negotiation with complaints about their "losses", and Bellingrum even gave Roger a new label: "You are really the most generous wizard I have ever seen."

"Hehe, I will take it as a compliment." Roger said goodbye to the goblin's underground world with brisk steps, suppressing the corners of his mouth that was harder to suppress than AK.

When he returned to the dungeon from the fireplace, the curfew had just begun. Roger said hello to Filch and Mrs. Norris, and walked directly towards the tower.

In the corridor on the second floor, Ron was just like his owl named "Piggy", with his eyes open like copper bells, carefully checking every corner of every room.

As a newly appointed prefect, he was eager to catch students who violated school rules to show the prefect's authority and prestige.

But the offenders hid well and completely avoided the patrol routes of the prefects and administrators. Without the help of Peeves and Mrs. Norris, they could hardly catch anyone.

Ron's eyes accidentally glanced out the window, and he noticed a disappearing black shadow, and immediately ran to the window to observe carefully.

"Slytherin?" Ron muttered, and was about to rush downstairs to catch the student.

Draco stood in the middle of the corridor, just blocking his way. There was a trace of contempt in his eyes, and he couldn't understand why Ron could be a prefect. What kind of status did he have? Was he worthy of being the same as himself?

However, Draco did not attack the other party directly. After following Roger for so long, he also learned some tricks to insult others: "Hey, isn't this Ron Weasley? Look, you are so energetic that you even polished the prefect badge so brightly."

With a mocking smile on his face, he stretched his fingers to the badge on Ron's chest, as if he wanted to pull it off and play with it.

"Get out of here, Draco!" Ron's tone was a little uneasy, but he still issued a warning, "I saw someone in your college violated the curfew, get out of my way."

"Huh?" Draco opened his mouth exaggeratedly, pretending to be incredulous, "Slytherin? Don't think you can accuse him just because you are a prefect."

"Everyone in Hogwarts knows that you and Harry are the ones who often violate the curfew." Draco sneered, and then threatened, "Tell Harry that it's best not to be caught by me for violating the curfew. Otherwise, hehe..."

He smiled coldly, relying on his height advantage, and patted Ron's shoulder gently: "Don't forget, I'm also a prefect. If Hagrid is found to raise dragons now, you will all be expelled from school."

"And your brother Charlie who works in the dragon farm, right?" Draco looked down at Ron and whispered, "I wish him all the limbs are healthy."

The two looked at each other, their eyes full of contempt, and their shoulders bumped together fiercely when they passed by. As for the black shadow that Ron saw before, it had disappeared without a trace.

"I will definitely catch you!" Ron couldn't help shouting loudly, his voice echoing in the corridor, waking up the portrait in the portrait frame on the wall, "Shut your mouth, I want to sleep!"

Ron's expression instantly became awkward, and under the angry gaze of the portrait frame, he fled away from the passage.

Although the prefects of Hogwarts do enjoy some good privileges, they have to patrol hard every night. In contrast, Roger's life is more free and happy.

As soon as he returned to the dormitory, he saw the quilt bulging. He walked over curiously and found Daphne running over late at night.

"Ah... you're back!" She rubbed her sleepy eyes and got up to leave.

"Well, I have something to do in the dungeon." Roger said as he manipulated it skillfully.

The atmosphere in the dormitory suddenly became a little warm, and the bright moon in the sky seemed to be shy and quietly hid in the clouds.

The two were immersed in each other's arms, and it took a long time before they separated their lips and tongues from the lingering. Daphne's cheeks were flushed with a charming blush, and her tone revealed an undisguised fatigue. "The factory has recruited a new batch of house elves, all brought by wizards from the United States."

"They don't want wages at all. They are very happy as long as there is work to do."

Rogge sniffed her hair and whispered: "They should still be paid. Doesn't the Ministry of Magic have laws on preferential treatment? It can be used to prevent their protests."

"When you come to the British wizarding world, you should follow our rules."

Daphne hummed softly, and when the sense of fulfillment surged in her heart again, she felt as if she was about to fly into the sky in the next moment.

"Hey, wait for me." Rogge suddenly stopped, leaving Daphne staring at him with an angry face.

"I found a slate today, maybe it can improve your magic power." Rogge placed the jade slate next to the pillow, and then whispered in her ear to explain the matter of improving mental power.

Daphne was not very sure about the direct connection between mental power and magic power. But when Roger mentioned that Filch had changed from a dud to a less dud cannon, she began to believe Roger's words.

In the dark night, the jade slate still emitted a soft light. Daphne felt that her mind became clearer and her senses became more acute.

This time, she was more sensitive than before, and her reaction was stronger than ever. She felt vaguely that a strange force hit her heart and soul.