A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Three dazzling spells suddenly burst out from the cloud, shooting straight at the Auror at the bottom like lightning. The Auror's eyes widened, his body seemed to be frozen, and he could only watch death approaching.

"Armor protection." Rogge's voice cut through the sky, and with a wave of his wand, a barrier instantly formed in front of the Auror.

The spell hit the barrier, making a piercing scream, and then reflected to the ground. The Auror gasped, cold sweat oozing from his forehead, looking at Rogge with lingering fear, his eyes full of gratitude.

However, the crisis was not over.

Several Dementors jumped into the team from nowhere. They were erratic and made a creepy hissing sound. They were not for attacking, but for disrupting the Aurors' defensive formation.

The air suddenly became cold, as if all the joy had been taken away.

"Expecto Patronus!" Rogge stepped forward again, and a silver raven jumped out of the tip of his wand.

When it flew towards the Dementors, those dark creatures had already entered the clouds and disappeared without a trace. Rogge's Patronus wandered in the air for a while, and finally had to turn into silver light and dissipate.

The surrounding white clouds seemed to have life, becoming thicker and thicker, and slowly squeezed in from all directions like living things. The air was filled with tension and uneasiness, and everyone could feel the impending danger.

"We can't move forward." Dawlish said in a deep voice, his eyes swept across the regrouped team, his face full of solemnity: "The attack of the Dementors just now was just a test. If the Death Eaters take the opportunity to attack, I am afraid there will be casualties. We must re-formulate a strategy."

As soon as the voice fell, the originally quiet survivors suddenly exploded. Low-pitched discussions came one after another, some were terrified, and some were angry.

They were eager to elect a new opinion leader to convey their demands and concerns to the Aurors. However, under the tyranny of the "little devil", no one dared to rashly stand up and be the first bird to speak out.

Rogge turned around and asked, "Bellinrum, where are we now?"

The Goblin King quickly glanced at the magic map, looked at the cloud that was almost condensed into substance, and said with a hint of urgency: "Near Bangor Mountain."

He paused and urged anxiously: "Why don't we rush over? It only takes ten minutes to leave the anti-apparition range."

Dolesh immediately shook his head to express his objection: "This is obviously a trap set by the Death Eaters. We can't take risks! Once it moves, they will have an opportunity to take advantage of it."

"Is it safe to stop here? How can you be sure that this is not a trap?" Bellinrum retorted, "If we stop, the Death Eaters will gather more and more. When the Dark Lord comes back, we will all be finished."

"This..." Deluxe was speechless.

The Aurors looked at each other, with hesitant light flashing in their eyes. No one can be sure of Voldemort's whereabouts, which means that danger can come at any time.

Finally, everyone's eyes turned to Rogge, expecting him to make a wise decision.

Rogge did not answer immediately, but flew to the cloud in a leisurely manner. He drew out his wand and whispered: "Shatter into pieces."

The spell hit the cloud in front of him and dispersed it. However, this did not have much effect, and more clouds quickly filled the gap.

He was not discouraged, but instead raised a mysterious smile, obviously having an idea: "Then wait, I happen to have a friend who can help."

"Friend?" Bellinrum raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then a worried look appeared on his face, "Can he come? The Death Eaters will definitely intercept him."

"Don't worry, my friend... is not so easy to be intercepted." Rogge's eyes flashed with confidence, "Let the clouds gather for a while, the more the better."

Others had no good idea, so they had to acquiesce to Rogge's proposal and stop here to wait.

The air was filled with a tense and expectant atmosphere, and everyone was secretly speculating who Rogge's "friend" was and what kind of turnaround it could bring.

The dense clouds were like an invisible barrier, not only blocking the vision of Rogge and others, but also confusing the giants who had already climbed the mountain.

These behemoths were holding boulders as big as off-road vehicles, but they didn't know which direction to throw them. They turned their huge heads clumsily, making low grumbles, sounding confused and irritated.

In the valley, Bella and her group gathered together and talked in low voices. Her beautiful eyes swept across the clouds from time to time, as if she was thinking about something.

Cedric's eyes were filled with anxiety that was difficult to conceal. He hesitated for a moment, and finally asked, "Is the master not back yet? Do you want to rush up and take a look?"

Little Barty raised one eyebrow, with obvious disdain in his tone: "Forget it, werewolves and dark races look down on us 'pure-blood' Death Eaters."

He half-clenched his hands and cleaned the dirt between his nails carelessly, "Besides, the master didn't give us a specific task. Why bother yourself and rush up to be looked down upon?"

Senior Death Eaters such as Bella and McNeill stood aside, silent. Their silence seemed to imply their agreement with Little Barty's point of view.

In Voldemort's core circle, all Death Eaters enjoy equal status. No matter how much the Dark Lord values ​​someone, in front of him, everyone is just a loyal servant.

But outside the big circle, it's different.

Purebloods and purebloods work together, while half-blood and Muggle-born wizards form their own faction. Although the two groups despise each other, they are eerily consistent on one thing: their rejection of werewolves.

As for dark races such as vampires and giants, pure bloods look down upon them. They would rather ally with the shrewd and cunning goblins than lend a helping hand to these "lower creatures".

"Wait." McNeil suddenly broke the silence. He took out a gleaming butcher knife from his robe and began to sharpen it on the big stone.

The blade of the knife rubbed against the rough stone surface, making a creepy "squeaking" sound. It was as if someone had put their fingernails on the blackboard and scratched it hard.

The harsh sound made the people around him shrink their necks involuntarily, with uncomfortable expressions on their faces.

But McNeil's eyes sparkled with morbid excitement, and he was clearly enjoying the unsettling noises.

As the executioner of the Ministry of Magic who is responsible for executing dangerous magical animals, he has long been accustomed to this work, and even got some kind of twisted pleasure from it.

"That's enough!" Bella snapped, with a dangerous light in her eyes, "This is not the Ministry of Magic, and you don't need to be the executioner."

McNeill curled his lips angrily and muttered in a low voice: "If you don't have artistic skills, you don't know how to appreciate my art at all."

A haze flashed in his eyes: "The Ministry of Magic has not been tasked with executing animals for a long time. I really want to tie up those werewolves."

"Then..." He held the handle of the knife with both hands and swung out a sharp slash.

"Hey~~" McNeil imitated the sound of the blade entering the flesh, with a happy smile on his face, "The wolf's head fell off just like that."

Feeling the disgusted looks from the others, he sighed helplessly and put the butcher knife back into his bag.

He turned to take out an oil paper bag, which contained some kind of dried meat. He chewed piece after piece to kill time.

"It smells delicious." A familiar voice suddenly sounded in the air, and then, Buck's figure appeared in front of them out of thin air.

"That's not the case." McNeil nodded and generously handed over the meat, "I bought this from your house elf."

He proudly introduced: "Well, I also have the smell of hippogriff, dragon, sniffer, fire snake..."

"My house elf?" Buck looked at him doubtfully, frowning: "Why didn't I know it had this skill?"

"Ah? The elf in Travis Manor doesn't belong to you?" McNeil asked curiously.

When Buck heard this, his face was suddenly covered with black lines. He responded angrily: "It's not mine, it's Rogge's elf. You can't tell, he also runs a snack business part-time."

"Recycle waste." McNeil shrugged and explained coldly: "As you know, the Department for the Management of Magical Creatures executes a group of magical creatures that are deemed dangerous every year."

"In the past, their fur and bones were processed into various magic materials, but the meat... basically no one wanted it."

"But, your nephew has a good business acumen." He grinned, showing a pair of jagged yellow teeth, "Last time I went to Hogwarts to execute the injurious hippogriff. He took the body without saying a word. I bought it and now I have this delicious meat snack.”

“I have to say, it’s really delicious.” Like a gourmet, McNeil shared his unique insights with everyone: “The hippogriff breast is dry and tough, and it’s particularly enjoyable to chew. It’s simply the best choice for grinding your teeth. ”

He took out a piece of dark green dried meat from his bag and handed it to the Death Eater beside him: "Try this, it's made of dragon meat. The original taste is a bit fishy, ​​but it makes you feel full. One piece is worth six."

"The ones that smell are the rarest. The meat is smooth and smooth. Unfortunately, there are so few of them. I can't find a few to be executed all year round."

"However, the one I most recommend is made from Fire Ash Snake." He handed over a piece of dark red dried meat with a slightly lewd smile on his face: "It's spicy enough in itself, and it's good for the body. It's a great tonic! "

He winked at the male Death Eaters around him, with hints in his eyes that all men understood.

At this moment, several dazzling flashes of lightning suddenly came from the dense clouds overhead, followed by deafening thunder. A few people looked up, but they didn't seem to care much about the sudden change in weather.

Bella smoothed her wild black hair and asked softly, "Buck, how is the situation over there in the laboratory?"

"Burned by the fierce fire, not even the dregs are left. As for Baldwin... he may be dead, or he may be captured." He pointed at the gloomy sky, with a hint of complaint and dissatisfaction in his tone: "I have long ago I said it would be too risky to continue studying the snake virus."

"If the new virus can threaten mixed-blood wizards, it can in turn kill pure-bloods. What's more, you did this without telling the master. Now it's fine, you don't have to worry about it anymore."

His words were like a heavy hammer, instantly slamming the atmosphere in the col into deathly silence. The dense dark clouds contained endless lightning, which illuminated the entire sky from time to time, and at the same time made Bella's face even more terrifying.

The purebloods were silent, and even MacNeil stopped chewing. Raindrops the size of peanuts began to hit the dry land, stirring up bursts of dust, as if playing a prelude to the coming heavy rain.

"You all should know why we got together." Bella's voice was mixed with the thunder, and every word carried a power that touched people's hearts.

She slowly scanned everyone, as if to see through their souls, "Now, we are the only ones left who are still fighting for the pure-blood ideal."

"Antonin Dolohov, Augusta Rookwood, Walton McNeill, Barty Crouch Jr., Cedric Diggory, and you." Her words were like a sigh, resolute and tragic.

"As for those traitors of Lucius," Bella suddenly raised her voice, her eyes full of contempt and anger, "they love power and wealth more than the blood flowing in their bodies."

The rain was getting heavier, and the thunder was getting louder. Lightning danced in the sky, as if echoing Bella's words.

"But what about our master?" She shouted angrily, as if triggering some kind of switch.

A bolt of lightning fell from the sky, splitting the sky and the earth.

Crack! ! !

The lightning struck directly on the head of the giant standing on the mountain. The huge body was instantly burned black and fell silently.

The rest of the giants howled in fear and fled in panic, their clumsy figures disappeared in the pouring rain.

Buck and others had different reactions when they heard Bella mention Voldemort.

Some covered their ears, as if they were avoiding some terrible truth; some lowered their heads and fell into deep thought; some looked at Bella curiously, waiting for the rest of her words.

"He betrayed the ideals he taught us that year and made us associate with dirty, humble, and disgusting bugs. He..." Bella's whole body was shaking.

She seemed to have made an unprecedented determination, took a deep breath, and said in a hoarse voice: "He is a half-blood!"

The dark clouds in the sky seemed to be a quilt full of rain, pressing towards the mountain peaks visibly. A loud bird cry echoed in the lightning, and then several black shadows fell heavily, hitting the puddle and stirring up dirty water splashes.

"Thunderbird." McNeill seemed to want to ease the tense atmosphere and deliberately changed the subject, "Buck, your nephew is too cunning."

"Thunderbird can control the weather. That idiot Youer thought he could trap them with dense clouds." He chuckled, "Hehe, now he has made wedding clothes for Rogge, isn't this shooting himself in the foot?"

"I really don't know what the jerky made by Thunderbird tastes like? Will it taste like lightning when you bite it in your mouth?" His tone was relaxed and frivolous, but the others in the valley ignored his jokes, and the air was filled with a suffocating heaviness.

"You should know the ancestral precepts of the Black family." Bella spoke slowly again, her voice low and solemn: "Always pure."

"I can't accept it..." Her voice was a little crying, and it sounded as fragile as potato chips.

Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating Bella's distorted face. She was struggling violently in her heart, and the past came like a tide.

She once believed in Voldemort fanatically and regarded him as her only god. For him, she would do anything.

She slaughtered Muggles for him, taking away countless lives with the waving of her wand; she killed wizards for him, even against her own relatives; she fought against the whole world for him, and gave everything to the great Dark Lord.

But Voldemort lied to her!

"He is not a pure blood at all, nor is he for purifying the filthy magic world." Bella complained painfully, "He just wants to control the magic world and become the immortal Dark Lord that everyone fears."

She recognized the true face of Voldemort and realized that her belief for many years was a scam. She was just a servant of Voldemort, as humble and pathetic as a house elf.

Her unloved husband Rodolphus did not hesitate to protect her with his life. But her beloved master, however, was furious and punished her.

Rain mixed with tears flowed down Bella's face, her voice trembled, full of complex emotions: "We have all been deceived. The ideals we fought for, everything we paid for..." "I will kill him!" Bella gritted her teeth, her cold voice was as firm as iron, and every word seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of her soul. Her eyes flashed with a resolute light, a kind of almost crazy determination. Although everyone present knew that she ordered Baldwin to study the second generation of the snake virus, perhaps to kill Voldemort. But when this sentence really came out of her mouth, it was still like a heavy hammer, shattering the last fantasy of others. In an instant, everyone's body trembled involuntarily. This idea was too terrible and too crazy. They felt fear, but also felt a strange relief. Suddenly, a thunderous thunder broke out in the sky, as if responding to Bella's determination. Huge lightning cut through the night sky, illuminating everyone's pale face. The rumbling thunder was endless, as if it was the anger of heaven, and the roar of fate. The rain was getting heavier, as if Loch Ness was pouring down overhead. The mountain streams instantly turned into raging rivers. The muddy flood roared into the valley, swallowing up everything that stood in its way.

Several people seemed to be deaf and speechless at this moment. Their ears could not hear the roar of thunder, and their mouths could not speak a single word.

They stood there, as if they were cast under a petrification spell, only their eyes were still moving restlessly, exchanging complicated glances with each other.

Looking down on other Death Eaters was just an excuse for them to perfunctorily deal with each other. The real reason was that when everyone confirmed that Voldemort was a half-blood, the long-held belief in their hearts collapsed.

However, they were powerless to resist and had nowhere to go. They could only stay on the East Coast and muddle through, carrying out Voldemort's orders like zombies.