A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

The return journey was smooth and peaceful, with no more accidents. Rogge stretched out his body, lying on the broad back of the Thunderbird, crossing his hands behind his head, letting his thoughts drift.

He took a deep breath, the air was mixed with the salty smell of the sea.

The sea breeze whistled past, carrying tiny snowflakes. Looking up, it was like countless naughty elves dancing happily.

In the distance, waves of deep blue waves roared and hit the coast, pushing the condensed muddy yellow ice to the shore

Dawlish and the Aurors rode on brooms, sometimes in groups in the air, sometimes in twos and threes. They had relaxed smiles on their faces, and happy conversations came from time to time.

"Guys, do you realize what we just did?" The brown curly-haired Auror said excitedly, "We went deep into the Dark Lord's territory and saved so many people!"

"Yes, we are heroes!" The companion next to him patted his chest, his face full of pride.

"This time, not only did they destroy the lab of the snake virus, but they also got away with it without anyone getting hurt. This is a textbook-level operation!"

"Ahem..." Dawlish suddenly cleared his throat and used his eyes to hint to the Aurors not to mention "no one got hurt" again.

Although the mission was completed perfectly, they all knew that for the safety of everyone, Rogge had to make a difficult decision to throw the survivor into the hanging basket.

They knew from the bottom of their hearts that this was the most direct and effective choice in that situation.

"I'll invite everyone to go to the Leaky Cauldron to drink in the evening..." He thought that today was Christmas, and quickly changed his words: "On the last day of the holiday, I'll invite everyone to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink, how about it?"

"Great!"

"Long live the director!"

"Dawlish, you are simply our Santa Claus!"

The crowd suddenly burst into cheers one after another, and the joyful mood was like ripples in the air.

Dawlish pressed his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet. He deliberately lowered his voice and said seriously: "Don't be happy too soon. When we get to London, you have to help me catch that old miser Thompson and bring him back to the office."

"Humph, we have to let this miser give us another year-end bonus." His voice suddenly rose and he laughed heartily.

"Really?!"

"Director, let me kiss you!" Suddenly, a short-haired Auror rushed over. He laughed loudly, hugged Dawlish's neck, and gave him a loud mua on the cheek.

Then, he winked coquettishly and teased, "Do you want to wash yourself and wait for you tonight?"

"I'm a local in London, but I don't do the locals' tricks." Dawlish's face flushed instantly, and he pushed the overly enthusiastic team member away, "I'm a man, a serious and conservative man."

"Did you hear that? Our boss wants a group of conservative men to accompany him."

"I'm conservative!"

"Count me in."

"Director, you know me, I'm the most conservative..."

The Aurors were like a group of good friends, making a fuss and making a mess.

In the distance, the coastline gradually became clear. The blue-green sea water sparkled in the sun, adding a touch of brightness to the joyful atmosphere.

Dawlish struggled to escape from this group of players who were playing tricks on him and laughing. He manipulated the broom lightly and flew towards Roger, who was lying alone on the back of the Thunderbird.

After flying closer, his expression became serious.

"Really nothing?" He pondered for a moment, his face covered with a layer of haze: "I can help you put them..."

Dawlish didn't finish this sentence, but his fierce eyes stared straight at the survivors in the basket, and the meaning was self-evident.

"Don't be so bitter and resentful, making me look like a criminal." Roger wrapped in a cashmere blanket, his tone was relaxed and natural: "Even if you use the Obliviate spell to clear their memories, this matter will be reported to the Ministry of Magic sooner or later."

"Instead of being questioned as a criminal by the Wizengamot at that time, it is better to wait for them to ask now."

"The most important thing is that I don't think I'm wrong." Roger's tone was very firm.

He drew out his wand and waved it gently. A soft light flashed, and the spell on Tonks disappeared instantly.

Tonks stared at him, with anger burning in her eyes: "Rogge, you wait to go to jail, you murderer!"

She gritted her teeth and said a harsh word, grabbed the broom and jumped out of the basket.

"Hey, wait..." Dawlish shouted, but it was too late. Tonks had already ridden away on her broom and soon became a small dot in the sky.

He put down his arms helplessly and smiled bitterly at Roger, "I am the director of the Law Enforcement Department. Her report will come to me first. If you let her go now, I can't help you suppress it."

Roger seemed unusually calm, and even had a smile on his lips: "Thank you."

"Don't frown. Today is Christmas, who cares about her report?"

"That's right." Dawlish nodded thoughtfully.

His eyes inadvertently glanced down and suddenly noticed some black spots on the ground. They were the people who came to greet them.

"It seems that Tonks will make a wasted trip. The Minister and other people in the Ministry of Magic are down there, ready to greet us."

He took a long breath and said softly: "Rogge, no matter what, I stand by you and support your decision and action at that time."

"No matter what, we saved a lot of people. This is the most important thing!"

As the distance gradually narrowed, the scene on the ground became clearer. Roger and Dawlish saw Minister of Magic Amelia leading a group of wizards, waiting there in the biting cold wind.

Behind them, several red double-decker buses and several quaint carriages were neatly arranged, obviously prepared to transport the rescued survivors.

Bellingrum quietly waved his wand while everyone was not paying attention. A faint light flashed, removing the sleeping spell on the Muggles.

Although he was a noble goblin king, he still needed to be cautious and humble in front of the Ministry of Magic.

If the wizards below found that he used the wand and cast a spell on the Muggles, what awaited him would be ruthless judgment and punishment.

Bellingrum sighed softly, with infinite melancholy in his heart. Goblins were deprived of the right to use wands. This unequal treatment was like a thorn, deeply piercing the hearts of every goblin.

However, when he thought of the promise Rogge made to them, Bellingrum's eyes flickered with hope again.

As they approached, a group of reporters who had been waiting for a long time came like a tide. Surprisingly, the reporter running in the front was not a reporter from the British magic world, but a Hong Kong reporter from "Chinese Magic".

They held long guns and short guns, and frantically shot and flashed at the magic hot air balloons and Auror teams hovering above their heads.

"Look there! Is that a thunderbird? It really is!"

"Minister Amelia, you actually arranged for magical animals to participate in this rescue operation. This is so surprising. Excuse me, does this mean that the Ministry of Magic is considering incorporating magical animals into the law enforcement system of the Law Enforcement Department?"

"Are you planning to reform and abolish the Department for the Management and Control of Magical Creatures?"

Facing the sudden question, Amelia remained calm on the surface, but her heart was full of doubts.

She looked up at the circling thunderbird, and a trace of confusion flashed in her eyes. Thunderbird was not mentioned in the action plan submitted by Dawlish. Did something unexpected happen?

However, as an experienced politician, Amelia knew how to deal with reporters who always wanted to make a big news.

She smiled slightly and signaled them to stay calm: "The rescue operation arranged by the Ministry of Magic is a top-secret plan. This is another heavy blow to the Dark Lord and his forces after the counterattack of the magical world. We will announce the specific details to the public at an appropriate time."

However, the reporters were not satisfied with this ambiguous answer. They rushed to throw out more questions:

"Minister, what role did the Thunderbird play in this operation?"

"Is the flying tool in the sky a secret weapon of the Ministry of Magic? Will it be promoted to the magical world in the future?"

...

Faced with overwhelming questions, Amelia quickly winked at the assistants around her. Percy and others immediately understood and stepped forward to isolate the reporters.

At the same time, Roger sat cross-legged, overlooking the lively scene below.

With a faint smile on his face, he said to Dawlish, "It's really lively down there. You guys go, I won't go."

"This is a chance to become famous." Dawlish reminded anxiously, "With the help of public opinion, your sin..."

"I said, I don't think I'm wrong." Rogge interrupted him with a slightly tough tone, his eyes were very firm, "As for sin... it's just the right and wrong in the eyes of ordinary wizards. Letting him do a free fall was my choice at the time."

"Even if it happens again, I will still do it."

"Go, enjoy your grand ceremony." Rogge's expression eased a little, and he showed a gentle smile to Dawlish, "Your team members are waiting for you."

"Rogge..." Dawlish wanted to say something, but before he could say it, the thunderbird flapped its huge wings impatiently and pushed him away.

The thunderbird raised its head and made a long and loud cry, as if announcing its arrival to the entire British magic world. Then, it suddenly spread its wings and took Rogge into the sky in an instant.

Dawlish stared at the black shadow in a daze, and couldn't help but sigh.

Leaving means giving up the honor and medals that are within reach.

As the initiator and main executor of this rescue operation, Rogge is fully qualified to obtain the first-class medal of the Order of Merlin, appear on the front page of major magic newspapers, win the praise of the entire magic world, and receive thank-you letters like a tsunami.

However, Rogge chose to leave without hesitation, and he gave up the flowers and applause.

Dawlish hesitated, and a trace of struggle flashed in his eyes. In the end, he resolutely chose to accept this honor. Although he understood that being famous meant being targeted by the Dark Lord, and he might even die.

However, as the director of the Department of Law Enforcement, Dawlish had long known the consequences of fighting Voldemort. Moreover, he was a man who was going to become the Minister of Magic, so how could he stagnate because of Voldemort's threat.

"Gentlemen, please keep your fighting look," he said in a deep voice, "Don't fix your hair, and don't use Transfiguration to change your clothes."

The Aurors looked at each other, not understanding Dawlish's intention. Facing the interview of reporters, shouldn't they greet them with the fullest and cleanest image?

"We are Aurors, and we have just experienced a hard and arduous battle." Dawlish continued to explain, his voice gradually rising: "Our hair was soaked by the heavy rain, our clothes were burned by the explosion, and our brooms were destroyed by the collision.

But we are still full of fighting spirit! For the peace of the magical world, we are ready to fight at any time!"

His words were sonorous and powerful, like a shot of tonic injected into every Auror's heart. The team members' eyes were blazing with fire, and they followed Delis's instructions to make themselves look even more embarrassed, yet brave and fearless.

Bellinrum, who was standing aside, witnessed all this. He lowered his head and glanced at the neat suit he had just put on, and then at the clothes that the Aurors had deliberately made tattered. He couldn't help but curse angrily: "Despicable wizards are indeed the most cunning race in the world."

He originally wanted to redress himself according to Delis. But what Rogge said sounded in his ears: "Bellingrum, if the goblin wants to use the wand again, it must be recognized by the magic world."

"You must reduce your threats, such as magical abilities. You must highlight the irreplaceable characteristics of fairies, such as manufacturing, financial management, and mining."

"That's right, I'm not a combatant." Bellinrum said to himself and put on his exquisite suit cufflinks again: "Elves only love Galleons, not fighting."

Delis led the Aurors to form a protective formation of wild geese, escorting the hot air balloon to slowly land. Before they could even get off the broom, reporters gathered around them.

The scene suddenly fell into chaos. Some reporters went to take pictures of the survivors, while others surrounded the Aurors and asked questions.

However, when they saw Bellinrum, wearing a golden crown and well-dressed clothes, walking gracefully down from the hanging basket, the wizards' curiosity was instantly ignited.

"Why are there goblins?"

"He doesn't look like a survivor either?"

"Hmph, he is obviously a coward. Look at his appearance, it is obvious that he has never fought."

Bellinrum laughed secretly in his heart, "The stupid wizard really looked for evidence as he expected."

This was noticed by Drex, who realized that Bellinrum might distract the media from the heroic deeds of the Aurors.

He quickly adjusted his strategy and decided to use this opportunity to demonstrate the unity and cooperation between the Ministry of Magic and other magical creatures (under his leadership).

Delis said loudly: "Let me introduce to you, this is His Majesty the Goblin King Belinrum. He has given us great help in this operation. This fully proves that unity can defeat darkness. "

"We goblins are willing to contribute our own strength to the peace of the magical world..." Bellinrum immediately used a louder voice and took away the reporters' microphones.

In the live broadcast of the Dragon Crystal Mirror, the staff of the Ministry of Magic were orderly placing the survivors on stretchers, and then carefully carrying them to waiting buses and carriages.

The survivors will be taken to St. Mungo's Hospital of Magic for further examination and treatment.

Jessica sat at the dining table, staring intently at the Aurors chatting in the magic mirror. She said softly: "Roger, you are right not to accept an interview. You humiliate the Dark Lord so much. From what I know about him, he will definitely come back with tenfold or a hundredfold revenge."

Roger just came out of the bathroom and threw the towel he used to wipe his head to the house elf to clean up. He glanced at Delis who was being interviewed and said, "Mom, I think they are fine for the time being."

Jessica turned her head and looked at her son with doubts and curiosity in her eyes, as if waiting for his further explanation.

"Death Eaters used to take no prisoners." He stabbed his fork into the bread, lay comfortably on the sofa, and ate while watching.

Jessica nodded. As a former Death Eater, she knew this.

During the First War more than a decade ago, Death Eaters would kill entire families of their enemies, just like they did to the McKinnons.

They would then leave the Dark Mark on the scene, spreading fear throughout the wizarding world with death and blood.

"Could it be..." Jessica muttered to herself, her brain running rapidly, trying to find the reason behind it.

"No, this is not in line with the Dark Lord's usual style."

"Did someone deliberately leave them behind?" Jessica's eyes suddenly lit up, as if she had caught some important clue. "This is not an order from the Dark Lord, but someone within the Death Eaters made their own decision..."

She couldn't help but take a breath: "Oh my god, they are so brave."

Rogge nodded in agreement and talked about what he saw and heard earlier: "When I went this time, I found that these survivors were used as experimental subjects. Well, you see, those Muggles have never been exposed to snake repellent potions. From an experimental perspective, they are very pure samples."

"However, the virus Bella is studying is not for Muggles."

"Bellatrix?" Jessica frowned slightly, looking a little confused: "Her spell skills are indeed good, but potions have always been poor. I don't think she has the ability to make the snake virus."

"Mom is amazing, she can guess all of this right." Rogge chewed bread in his mouth and muttered vaguely, "Her purpose is to be a wizard, and the real virus researcher is the potions professor in Ilvermorny. "

"We'll talk after eating." Jessica rolled her eyes at her son angrily and pushed a glass of iced Coke in front of him.

The fireplace in the living room was burning brightly, and snowflakes were falling outside the French windows. Winter, a dry season, is the best time for ice cola and ice cream.

Rogge swallowed the bread in his mouth, took a sip of iced coke and cleared his throat: "The potions professor has already developed a second-generation virus, but the virus Bella needs is one that can distinguish pure blood from non-pure blood."

He shrugged and showed a helpless smile: "Although, it can't be done."

"The structure of the virus is very simple. You can use magic to keep it stably replicating, but you can't burn the information of 28 holy pure-blood families at the same time."

"What will happen if it is really burned?" Jessica asked thoughtfully, as if she wanted to know more.

"Even if it is successfully burned, the first-generation virus can only distinguish pure-bloods from other wizards for a short time. However, 1 second, 1 hour or 1 day..." Roger shook his head, "After a certain point in time, it will lose the old information and evolve into a new, uncontrolled virus."

He paused and continued: "Similar to the dragon pox virus, it kills regardless of friend or foe. Its toxicity may be stronger or weaker. But in any case, it is no longer the same as before."

A trace of regret flashed in Jessica's eyes, but she quickly put aside a certain idea deep in her heart.

She looked at the picture in the magic mirror and couldn't help but fall into deep thought, reviewing the changes in the power of pure-blood wizards over the years.

Nowadays, the influence of pure-blood wizards is still shrinking, but with her efforts, this process has slowed down a lot.

Through her experiences in different magic circles, Jessica gradually understood that the real reason for the decline of pure-bloods was that there were too few of them. Even if the Ministry of Magic opened all positions to pure-blood wizards, they would not be able to fill these vacancies.

"The war has caused too much damage to pure-blood families." Jessica whispered to herself, with a trace of regret in her eyes, "especially under the deception of that half-blood bastard, some pure-blood families are almost extinct."