Chapter 531 Ollivander's Love and Ethics

Draco took the newspaper and read it quickly. Suddenly, his eyes sparkled and that familiar smile appeared on the corner of his mouth again.

He stood up suddenly and jumped onto the long table, causing the students around him to exclaim and look sideways.

"Listen to this!" Draco shouted, attracting everyone's attention. Then, he recited in a frivolous voice: "Ah ~ Arthur Weasley, a sloppy guy who returned to the Ministry of Magic because of a power struggle."

"His vigilance must have been forgotten on Molly's apron, so he was bitten by the monster's fangs at the Ministry of Magic."

Draco's tone was so playful that the auditorium burst into laughter. The nickname "Sloppy Weasley" quickly spread throughout the Great Hall as he read aloud, and would soon spread throughout Hogwarts.

When the Weasleys come back, they will probably be called by others: "Sloppy No. 1, Sloppy No. 2... Little Sloppy."

Draco continued reading triumphantly: "Perhaps this is a deliberate revenge by a staff member of the Department for the Management and Control of Magical Creatures. This shows how fierce the power struggle in the Ministry of Magic has become..."

Malfoy stopped reading at this point, because he realized that the rest of the paragraph was full of Rita's satire on the Ministry of Magic. It’s not until the last paragraph that the teasing about Arthur reappears.

So, he chose to skip and read selectively: "We have reason to believe that Arthur contracted the side effects of the snake-man virus due to excessive exposure to Muggle objects: attracting snakes and reducing his IQ."

"Especially the snake venom retained in his body has been able to affect his soul. Perhaps he has lost the ability to use spells and is no longer a wizard.

I have to thank Merlin, because the heartless Arthur can lie quietly in the hospital bed instead of running out and causing a burden to everyone. "

"Hahaha..." Cheerful laughter echoed in the auditorium, and Goyle and Crabbe echoed loudly: "What a precise writing style, Draco, you recited so well!"

"That's enough, Malfoy, you are too cold-blooded!" Neville couldn't help shouting, "How can you humiliate Mr. Arthur like this? He was injured while performing official duties."

"Oh? What, Harry Potter and Weasley's follower." Draco stared at Neville angrily, raised his arms and was going to fight.

Rogge gave Pansy a look and asked her to hold Draco and not let the situation get out of hand.

"Let me go, Pansy!" Draco shouted, not forgetting to sarcastically say to Neville: "If you have any objections, I can call him a 'brave sloppy'."

"Or he just went to the Ministry of Magic at night to steal..."

"Quiet!" Just when the atmosphere was about to get out of control, Dumbledore's voice rang through the auditorium.

Everyone immediately fell silent, and everyone exchanged uneasy glances.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Neville, please come to my office."

"But Headmaster, I didn't write that!" Draco protested, "I don't have such writing style..."

"Mr. Malfoy!" Dumbledore's tone was slightly harsh.

Draco's face turned a little pale, but he still felt that he was right.

"Why don't you just go to the principal's office!" He muttered secretly, "Who knows how long you can be the principal..."

Roger secretly kicked him to remind him to keep his mouth shut. He obviously can't resist, but he still likes to talk shamelessly. Isn't this something that needs to be dealt with?

"Snake venom." He bit into the soft crucible bread and watched the two of them leave the auditorium.

Even with the level of therapists at St. Mungo's Hospital of Magic, they were unable to eradicate the snake venom from Arthur's body. This can only mean one thing: the creature that bit Arthur was even more terrifying than the original Nagini.

If Rita hadn't made it up, the toxins in Arthur's body could really damage the soul...

"Is it a basilisk?" Rogge murmured, his voice low enough that only he could hear, "So far, there is only one type of snake venom that can harm the soul, and the cure is Phoenix Tears."

He carefully reviewed every detail in the report and quickly found valuable clues from just a few words. Based on these alone, he roughly deduced what happened last night.

In his first year, he traded the basilisk hatching method to Voldemort. It was not difficult for Voldemort to cultivate his own basilisk without Nagini.

"What Salazar was able to do back then, there is no reason for Voldemort to admit defeat." He thought of Voldemort's pretentious personality, and being able to defeat his ancestors would definitely make that guy feel sincerely happy, "Besides, Harry Potter is also a Parseltongue. , can be seamlessly substituted into the perspective of the basilisk.”

He quickly figured out the other party's motives: "In other words, Voldemort has returned to his old ways and insists on getting the prophecy from back then."

"Is the prophecy that important?" Rogge sighed helplessly, really unable to understand why Voldemort was so entangled in this.

The more you care about prophecy, the more you become a part of it. Voldemort and Dumbledore both went too far and too deep on this road. The two of them have been captured and trapped by this obsession, unable to see the broader picture and possibilities clearly.

The students around them were still discussing Draco's reading, and Goyle and Crabbe were making up more jokes about the Weasley family.

But Rogge had no interest in any of this. His mind had already gone elsewhere. He stood up calmly, straightened his robe, and silently left the long table.

The winter wind hurt his face, so he wrapped a scarf and buried half of his face in it. Then, he walked slowly and slowly outside the castle.

Halfway there, he suddenly looked back. The towering Hogwarts Castle is covered in silver, majestic and mysterious.

But he couldn't help but think of the wizards who were tightly locked by the prophecy, as if there were countless filaments falling from the sky, controlling the people in the room.

"Puppet of prophecy," he murmured softly.

Roger came to the peaceful Diagon Alley alone and walked straight to Mr. Ollivander's wand shop. When the store door was pushed open, a crisp bell broke the silence in the store.

The narrow aisle in the store was lined with wand boxes stacked precariously into a tall tower. He stepped lightly on the warped floorboards, really worried that he would knock down the "leaning towers of wands" on both sides.

Although the shop was deserted, Mr. Ollivander was still sitting attentively behind the counter, his weather-beaten hands carefully fiddling with an unfinished wand.

Hearing the doorbell, he raised his head and looked at the visitor through his reading glasses with his cloudy but bright eyes.

"Roger..." He blinked in surprise and asked curiously: "Isn't that wand already taken away by Albus? Are you here?"

"The broken wand?" Rogge looked at Ollivander, not expecting that he could repair the Elder Wand.

"That's right, just a few days ago." He took off his reading glasses with a proud smile on his face, "That wand is really extraordinary, it can bring the wizard's magic power to the extreme."

He paused, with a trace of regret flashing in his eyes: "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find out the secret of its resistance to the Unforgivable Curse. If I can study it for a while longer..."

The corner of Rogge's mouth raised slightly, he took out a delicate wooden box from the inside of his robe, and slowly pushed it over: "Mr. Ollivander, take a look at this. Maybe it can make up for your regrets."

When the wooden box was slowly opened, Ollivander's eyes suddenly burst into astonishing light. His expression instantly became serious and focused, and with trembling hands, he carefully took out the wand as if it were a treasure in the world.

"This style, this exquisite workmanship..." He murmured in a low voice, his fingertips gently stroking the texture on the surface of the wand, his voice trembling slightly with excitement, "There is no doubt that it is made by the same wand as the previous one. Wand Master.”

Ollivander took a deep breath, as if to imprint the breath of the wand in his heart: "Its material has never been used in wands..."

"Osmanthus wood." A mysterious smile appeared at the corner of Rogge's mouth, and he added: "You really have a keen eye, and you discovered what they have in common at a glance."

"You can see it, you can see it!" Ollivander was completely immersed in his obsession with the wand, and his eyes became blurred and eager. Regardless of his own identity, he earnestly begged: "Can you allow me to study for a while?"

"Sorry, Mr. Ollivander." Rogge shook his head slightly and declined politely, "Actually, the purpose of my trip is to exchange it for a set of wand-making methods."

Upon hearing this, the passion in Ollivander's eyes quickly receded like the tide.

He reluctantly put the wand back into the wooden box, his tone full of regret, "It is true that it is rare and extremely valuable, but..."

He paused for a moment, his eyes moving back and forth between Roger and the wand, as if he was having a fierce inner struggle.

Finally, he sighed deeply: "Roger, wands are a wonderful skill that requires experience and accumulation. If you are willing to work with me after graduating from Hogwarts, I can teach you how to make wands step by step. methods and techniques.”

"Apprentice?" Rogge repeated softly, obviously not intending to accept Ollivander's suggestion.

He didn't expect that Ollivander was more conservative than he thought. The so-called apprentice means doing odd jobs for the master. Only when Ollivander is about to die will he be able to teach the most crucial technique of making a wand.

Moreover, this was despite the fact that no one in his family wanted to engage in this profession.

But he was not discouraged and came up with his second plan: "So, can you help me find a magic wand made by Thiago?"

"Thiago Quintas?" A complicated look flashed in Ollivander's eyes.

"That's right."

"Young man, magic wand is a delicate knowledge, an art that requires patience, wisdom and honesty. Studying alone is not a good way." He immediately saw through Rogge's intention and reminded him seriously: "In our Among wand masters, Tiago’s wand core is a joke.”

"Of course, I'm not doubting his craftsmanship in making wands. It's just that he is not a sincere person."

"You mean, the river monster is fake?"

Ollivander chuckled, but did not answer directly. He slowly closed the wooden box and pushed it back to Rogge, a trace of regret flashing in his eyes.

"If you are really interested in wand making, my advice is still valid. Come here after graduation and start learning from the Celtic Tree Calendar and slowly accumulate experience. This is the right way."

"A true wand master needs to dedicate the rest of his life to this. If it is to satisfy his hobby of collecting..." the old man slowly spoke, consciously or unconsciously reminding: "You have to understand that wands are not just a tool, they have Your own soul can create a unique connection with the wizard."

"Then can you tell me who collects Thiago's wand?" Rogge was not discouraged, with a firm light shining in his eyes: "I can store it in your shop for you to study."

"Roger..."

"One year."

"this is not……"

"Three years!" Rogge opened the lid of the box again and said sincerely: "Sir, I understand your concerns. But please believe that this is just a wizard's pure curiosity. I assure you that I will treat every request with caution. Wands, respect their power."

Ollivander hesitated, wavered. He put on his reading glasses, hoping that the thick lenses could obscure the movements under his eyes.

He slowly closed the box, his fingertips lingering on the smooth surface: "I have to admit, this is indeed a quite sincere condition."

His hand stayed on the box, as if weighing something. Suddenly, he raised his head and looked at Rogge sharply: "I do know a wand collector who has a wand made by Tiago. But..."

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

"Five years." Ollivander withdrew his hand from the wooden box and said the bottom line in an ultimatum tone without any doubt: "Lend it to me for five years, and I can help you write a letter to that person." collector."

Perhaps knowing that his conditions were too harsh, Ollivander put his hands on the table and hurriedly added: "When the time comes, I will share the research results of these two wands with you. Moreover, during this period, you can always Come to me and ask about wand making."

"Also, the material for Thiago's staff core is in the 'White River Monster'." After saying that, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The small wand shop was filled with the smell of magic and ancient wood. The two people inside and outside the counter were silent at the moment.

Rogge fell into thought. He did not doubt Mr. Ollivander's integrity and believed that the wand master would not arbitrarily propose such a long period of five years. His instinct told him that this might be a necessary condition for further study of the Death Wand.

What really troubled him was that Mr. Ollivander obviously knew the secret of Tiago's wand, but he was unwilling to tell it directly.

"I hate the Riddler." Rogge secretly complained in his heart.

Tension and anticipation lingered in the air. Rogge took a deep breath and looked between the wooden box and Ollivander. Finally, he made a decision.

"Sir, you win." He said with a trace of helplessness on his lips, "Your noble character moved me."

"If it had been anyone else, they would have given the name and address of the wand collector without hesitation."

Ollivander took the wooden box with great care, a trace of apology flashed in his eyes: "This is just the stubbornness of an old wizard who is behind the times. But if the other party refuses, there is nothing I can do."

"In the next five years, I can study the making method of this wand and the magical power contained in it in all aspects." This thought made Ollivander full of energy, as if he was decades younger.

Even though Roger was standing opposite, he did not hesitate to replace the old wooden box containing the wand.

"I knew it." Ollivander murmured to himself, picking up a magnifying glass and observing the wand carefully. "The previous method couldn't repair it perfectly. Albus was too impatient."

With that said, he turned and walked towards the workbench at the back, his steps brisk, as if he couldn't wait to start his research.

Rogge stood there, looking at Ollivander's busy back, with mixed feelings in his heart. Although he was a little embarrassed to be left alone, he didn't mean to blame the old wizard in the slightest.

He was a little unhappy with the other party's decisiveness when he refused, but Rogge felt the same about his fanatical research attitude.

"This old man's love for wands is beyond imagination." Rogge whispered to himself and couldn't help but smile.

After leaving the wand shop, Roger went straight back to the Three Broomsticks Tavern. It was warm in the tavern, and the fire in the fireplace danced cheerfully, dispelling the chill outside.

He came to the round table in the corner and took out the book "Cryptozoology" that he regarded as fabricated.

"It looks great." Luna held the oak wine glass, her voice drifting over like mist.

Rogge couldn't help but shrink his neck and exhaled a big breath: "Ha...Luna, you scared me."

Luna didn't seem to care about Rogge's reaction, her eyes had been attracted to the book. She briskly sat down opposite Roger and picked up the heavy "Cryptozoology" without waiting for an invitation.

"There are so many animals I've never seen before." Luna's voice was full of excitement, and her big eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Are there any harassing flies or oyster hooks here?"