A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 497 Follow the Money
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, fixed tightly on Bellinrum, and his tone was tentative: "This is not a good idea. The Dark Lord is destined to lose."

"Impossible, absolutely impossible..." Bellingrum looked at Roger's determined eyes and couldn't help but lower his voice, falling into self-doubt. "He has become the king of the East Coast, how could he return to England? Does he really want to fight with Dumbledore?"

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

How could such a promising and lucrative future collapse overnight and be wiped out by other magical forces?
Moreover, he had received accurate information from the American goblins that there were signs of division within the Magical Congress of the United States of America. Many wizards in the Congress believed that if they could not defeat the enemy, they could join the Congress, which was not shameful.

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 Confederation of Magic, it can be completely borne by the powerful Voldemort. Even if he is finally defeated, they can claim that they are under the control of the Imperius Curse.

This strategy was once used by the British pure-blood wizards, and now it seemed that they could repeat it. Even if it would bring some criticism, they didn't care.

This caused the goblins to waver in their position, because they were born to follow wealth. If the British wizarding world could not provide enough benefits, Bellingrum would 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 popping up."

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

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

"As for your magic school? Perhaps the castle and the land are still of some value." It shook its head, totally disagreeing with Roger's guess. "If I were the Dark Lord himself, I would not come back. Isn't it nice to be outside?"

"Oh, 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 fellow Americans."

Bellingrum was like being poured with a bucket of ice water, instantly calming down from his greed. He recalled the results of the last war, where the Death Eaters were either killed or thrown into Azkaban.

But they are wizards, and I am a goblin, and the fate of the two is not comparable. The goblins should do their best to remain neutral and impartial. Even if this will not bring any gains, at least there will be no losses.

After all, this is evil wizards killing each other, and the more intense the fight, the more the goblins should applaud.

"Don't threaten me!" Bellinrum shouted in a timid manner, "We didn't do anything!" It waved the agreement it had just signed and demanded that Rogge return the projector to it.

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

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

"Hey, don't talk nonsense! Be careful or I'll sue you for libel at the Ministry of Magic! Libel, understand?" Roger glared at it and warned, "There is a lava well in my manor, it's true."

"Humph, who would believe you, a big liar!" Bellinrum muttered unwillingly, blaming himself for his stupidity. He should have checked the so-called evidence in Rogge's hand before negotiating compensation.

"In fact, I suggest you diversify your investments. After all, don't put all your eggs in one basket." Roger raised a sly smile and offered his own suggestion, "For example, completely sever ties with the American goblins and apply to fight alongside the Aurors instead."

"Impossible! We don't even have a wand..." Bellinrum was stunned, and instantly understood something. It smiled cunningly and declared loudly, "We goblins are part of the magical world, and we must contribute our own strength to peace."

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

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

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

"One Galleon, this is the highest price I can offer!" Bellinrum took out the gold coin and handed it over with heartache.

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

Bellinrum stood there in embarrassment. According to the goblin's concept of property rights, Rogge's words were indeed correct. However, this was too unfair to him! He had already paid for it, so how could he return the things?

"No, sir!" Bellinrum retorted immediately, "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, wondering if it was worthwhile.

The goblins have been operating in the magical world for so many years, constantly digging up the pharaohs' tombs, and they must have collected some precious treasures.

If the Dragon Crystal Mirror could be exchanged for other magic items, it would indeed be a good deal. Rogge nodded and immediately agreed.

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

Roger pointed at the mess of 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 suffered a great injustice and insult.

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 layer of garbage bit by bit.

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

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

"Give me the stone slab at your feet." Roger said suddenly.

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

Finally, he was convinced that it was just an ordinary marble building material, so he threw it to Roger.

"It's not this one, the one behind you." "It's not white, it's green." Rogge's heartbeat quickened, and it wasn't until Bellinrum threw the jade slab to him that his mood calmed down a little.

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

After a simple translation, he quickly recognized the true identity of the stone tablet. This was not the Emerald Tablet from Atlantis, but a translation tablet made by Egyptian priests.

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

The piece in Roger'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 was even better than that of Ravenclaw's crown.

Bellinrum was overjoyed, and said to himself, "What a fool! He traded trash for the magic mirror. He made a fortune this time!"

But it didn't know that Rogge, who pretended to be sad, was also satisfied. To him, exchanging a dragon crystal magic mirror for a jade slab was no longer a good deal but a bargain.

They both ended the negotiation complaining about each other's "losses", and Bellingrum even gave Roger a new label: "You are really the most generous wizard I have ever seen."

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

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

On the second floor corridor, Ron was like his owl named "Piggy", with his eyes as wide as bells, carefully checking every corner of every room.

As a newly appointed class monitor, he was eager to catch students who violated school rules in order to demonstrate his authority and prestige.

But the offenders were well hidden, well off the patrol routes of the prefects and wardens, and without the help of Peeves and Mrs Norris, they were almost impossible to catch.

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

"Slytherin?" Ron muttered, as if to rush downstairs and catch the student.

Draco stood in the middle of the corridor, blocking his way. There was a trace of contempt in his eyes, wondering why Ron could be a prefect. Who was he, was he worthy of being the same as himself?

However, Draco did not attack him directly. After being with 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 your prefect badge so brightly."

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

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

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

"Everyone in Hogwarts knows that you and Harry are the ones who often break curfew." Draco sneered and then threatened, "Tell Harry that I'd better not catch you breaking curfew. Otherwise, hehe..."

He smiled grimly, and taking advantage of his height, he patted Ron's shoulder gently. "Don't forget, I'm also a prefect. If Hagrid is found raising a dragon now, you will all be expelled from school."

"And your brother who works at the dragon farm, Charlie, right?" Draco stared down at Ron and whispered, "I wish he had all his limbs intact."

The two looked at each other with contempt in their eyes, and their shoulders bumped against each other fiercely as they passed each other. As for the black shadow that Ron had seen before, it had already disappeared without a trace.

"I will definitely catch you!" Ron couldn't help but shout loudly. His voice echoed in the corridor and woke 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 in the portrait frame, he fled down the passage.

Although the prefects at Hogwarts do enjoy some nice privileges, they also require hard patrols every night. In comparison, Roger's life is freer and happier.

As soon as he returned to the dormitory, he saw the quilt was bulging. He walked over curiously and found Daphne came in the middle of the night.

"Ah...you're back!" She rubbed her sleepy eyes, stood up and was about to leave.

"Well, I have something to do in the dungeon." Rogge said as he began to operate the machine with ease.

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 of them were immersed in each other's embrace, and it was a long time before they separated their lips and tongues. Daphne's cheeks were flushed with a charming blush, and her tone revealed the fatigue that could not be concealed, "The factory has recruited a new batch of house-elves, all brought by wizards from the United States."

"They don't ask for any wages at all. As long as they have work to do, they are very happy."

Roger sniffed the fragrance of her hair and whispered, "We should still pay them a salary. Doesn't the Ministry of Magic have laws regarding preferential treatment? We can use them to prevent their protests."

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

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

"Hey, wait a minute." Roger suddenly stopped, causing Daphne to stare at him angrily.

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

Daphne was not entirely sure about the direct link between mental power and magic, but when Roger mentioned that Filch had gone from being a Squib to a less-squibby Smasher, she began to believe Roger's words.

In the dark night, the jade slab still emitted a soft glow. Daphne felt her mind become clearer and her senses sharper.

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

(End of this chapter)