A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 499: Alder and Bowtruckle

The weather was getting a little chilly, tearing the branches of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, making waves of howling like mournful cries. Ron kept mumbling, his dissatisfaction with Madam Pince bursting out like a string of cannonballs. Harry responded absentmindedly, his mind already drifting to Hagrid's hut.

Harry hadn't seen Hagrid since the start of the school year, and even at the Sorting Ceremony, his familiar bearded face hadn't appeared.

He had asked Professor Lupin, but had received only the vague suggestion that Hagrid was busy on a vital mission.

As for the specific content of the mission, Lupin kept his mouth shut and did not reveal a word to him. This made Harry feel inexplicably lost, and felt that he was intentionally or unintentionally isolated from the action plan by the Order of the Phoenix.

All students liked Professor Grubbly-Plank's Care of Magical Creatures class. Although Harry was a good friend of Hagrid's, he also admitted that her class was well organized.

There was neither the disgusting horror of the blasting-tailed skrewt nor the abrupt surprise of the hippogriff. All the teaching content was steady and solid, and she imparted the knowledge about magical creatures to the students in detail.

However, this steady teaching style made Harry miss the thrill and excitement of Hagrid's class even more.

He always brings something different and exciting to the table. If Hagrid were still a professor, perhaps he would have seen the mysterious black creatures pulling carts outside the train station this year.

Professor Grubbly-Plank's voice broke Harry's reverie. Her voice was rough and powerful. She said to the students sitting around: "Okay, students, let's start the class. Can anyone tell me what the names of these creatures are?"

She pointed to a pile of twigs in front of her, and Hermione was the first to raise her hand, her arm moving so quickly that it created a crisp breeze that blew her hair across her forehead.

The branches on the table began to move, leaping suddenly into the air and revealing their true colors: tiny creatures, seemingly made of twigs, with brown, gnarled legs and arms.

Each of their hands has only two slender fingers that look more fragile than a dragonfly's legs. On their flat, bark-rough faces, two round brown eyes sparkle.

Many students exclaimed in surprise, full of curiosity and surprise at this strange magical creature. The praises around him made Harry more and more annoyed because he couldn't contact Hagrid.

He admitted that Professor Grubbly-Plank's teaching was indeed excellent, but he firmly believed that if Hagrid had not been stripped of his professorship by the school board, he would be able to bring everyone equally amazing magical creatures.

"Girls, please keep quiet!" Professor Grubbly-Plank's voice was serious as she casually threw out a handful of what looked like brown rice for the little creatures on the table to enjoy. "Okay, Miss Granger."

She ignored Hermione's raised hand several times, hoping that another student would answer the question. Otherwise, her Magical Beasts class would become Miss Granger's one-man show.

"Bowtruckles," Hermione said, her voice clear and confident. "They are tree guardians, usually found in wand trees."

"Five points to Gryffindor," Grubbly-Plank announced lifelessly, as if the cold weather had taken away all the enthusiasm in her heart. "Hermione is right, Bowtruckles usually live in trees that can be used to make wands. So, does anyone know what they feed on?"

"Country bumpkin." Hermione's answer was quick and accurate, and her voice echoed in the professor's ears.

Grubbly-Plank looked around. It seemed that Hermione was the only student in her class. The others were either deaf or dumb.

She complained softly, with a hint of disappointment in her tone, "I hope you can prepare in advance next time. Hermione, another five points."

"If you wish to collect leaves or branches from a Bowtruckle's tree, you will need to prepare some gifts of terrapins to attract their attention."

"Professor, they look so fragile..." Draco walked out of the crowd. He stretched out his hand and tried to grab a Bowtruckle on the table. He looked confident and careless. "There is no danger."

Professor Grubbly-Plank quickly raised her wand to block Draco's hand, her voice filled with warning: "Hehe, if you don't want to lose your eyeball and get a fake one, you can try to provoke them." After that, she retracted her wand and stared at Malfoy coldly.

Draco froze in embarrassment. He looked at the sharp fingers of the Bowtruckle, pouted, and stepped back reluctantly.

"Hey, coward." Ron seized the opportunity and couldn't help but make a sarcastic remark, which immediately attracted Malfoy's attention.

Both of them are prefects, and Ron is not afraid of retaliation from the other party.

Malfoy stared at him, snorted, and said provocatively: "Weasley, isn't Gryffindor known for its courage? If you can catch it, I will admit that I am a coward."

"Gentlemen, stop fooling around!" Grubbly-Plank wrinkled his nose, a hint of displeasure flashed in his eyes, and then he shouted loudly: "If the two of you don't know how to listen carefully, then leave my class!"

Under the professor's stern gaze, Weasley and Malfoy had to restrain their behavior. They looked at each other, their eyes full of hostility and disdain.

"Okay, come closer, get some terrapins, and take a Bowtruckle." Grubbly-Plank pointed to the table and gave everyone a task. "There are enough Bowtruckles here for three people to share one, so you can observe them in more detail. I want everyone to have a sketch completed by the end of the get out of class, labeling the various parts of the Bowtruckle's body."

Roger had already learned about these cute little guys from Newt. Bowtruckles are not only protectors of wand trees, they are also good at jailbreaking and picking locks.

In the forest, they are the perfect scouts, as even a dragon might not notice a branch that is just a few feet away.

"Should we catch it and observe it?" Daphne pointed at the Bowtruckle they were given, looking a little overwhelmed.

"Get acquainted with it with food first." Roger asked Theodore to hand the woodpecker to him, then stretched out his right hand, signaling the Bowtruckle to climb up.

The Bowtruckle raised its little head and looked at the three big heads in front of it warily. Although it was a little hesitant, it finally mustered up the courage to climb onto Roger's palm for the sake of food.

"Wow, it really listens to you." Daphne's eyes sparkled with excitement. She quickly picked up the pen and began to carefully draw the body of the Bowtruckle.

Theodore was drawing its head and couldn't help complaining: "This thing is really ugly, and the food it eats is pretty disgusting."

Rogge smiled and continued his taming experiment. The Bowtruckle's mind was very simple, without any complicated ideas. Through feeding again and again, it began to understand the intentions of the wizard in front of it.

As long as it showed the corresponding body parts as required, it would get food. After a few minutes, it had completely adapted to the role of a model and stood there to be drawn by Roger, Daphne and Theodore.

"Look at this, how's the drawing?" Roger showed it his own drawing of a Bowtruckle. The Bowtruckle in the drawing had two legs and three feet, and two small leaves on its head. Its thin fingers were slightly raised, and especially its overbite mouth, which was almost exactly the same as its real appearance.

When the Bowtruckle saw his own portrait, he waved his fingers excitedly, his two little eyes showing human satisfaction. Like a bold inspector, he jumped in front of Daphne and Theodore to check the sketches they had drawn of him.

"No! I will never change!" Theodore stared at the little guy and ignored its protesting stomping.

He reached out to retrieve his class assignment, but the Bowtruckle held onto the other side of the sketch tightly, so he had to pull up the sketch and the Bowtruckle hanging on it together.

"What did you draw it like?" Roger and Daphne looked at Theodore curiously.

"I just drew it the normal way." Theodore scratched his head and showed them the sketch.

Daphne looked at the dark, messy ink on the sketch and couldn't help laughing: "Haha... no wonder it disagrees."

"It's obviously ugly, not my drawing. Look at its eyes, which are bulging like a frog." Theodore insisted, and he kept arguing with the Bowtruckle until the end of the get out of class. In the end, he handed it to the professor along with the sketch.

When it was Roger's turn to hand in his homework, Professor Grubbly-Plank asked softly, "I noticed an alder tree on the hillside opposite the Black Lake. Professor Snape said you planted it?"

"Well, I planted it before the summer vacation of my first year. It's been several years." Roger looked at her curiously, "Professor, is there anything wrong with the tree?"

"No, it's very healthy," Grubbly-Plank praised. "While I was preparing these little guys, I discovered that there was a Bowtruckle on that tree."

"The school must tell everyone about this, so that students who don't know the truth won't be hurt by the Bowtruckle."

"You mean, its trunk can be made into a magic wand?" Roger asked in surprise.

"In theory, yes, but it requires the wand maker to personally inspect it," Professor Grubbly-Plank continued. "From my experience, the quality of the wood of that alder tree is extraordinary."

This sentence stirred a ripple in Roger's heart. Ever since he buried Quirrell's wand, he had not paid attention to the sapling that grew out of the small grave for many years.

The clouds in the sky were floating back and forth, as if they were undecided about whether it would rain or not. Rogge's gaze passed through the Black Lake and fell on the hillside on the opposite bank. He decided to visit the "old friend" after the herbal class.

As expected, Professor Sprout began the class by stressing the importance of next year's exams. Everyone had heard the same thing over and over again for a whole day, and it felt like their ears were covered with calluses.

After finally getting dragon dung and herbs in close contact, Professor Sprout immediately assigned a new essay. The students wailed and reluctantly accepted the cruel reality of the fifth grade.

The time they spent on playing in previous years had to be completely and even doubled back this year. If they failed the exam next year, they would lose the qualification to continue studying at Hogwarts.

After the one and a half hour class, Roger did not go directly to the auditorium for dinner like other students, but turned in the direction of the alder tree.

I haven't seen it for a few years, and it has grown into a tree about 10 meters tall. The obovate leaves are stacked layer upon layer, and perhaps autumn is coming, some of the leaf veins are stained with a light yellow.

As if to welcome the arrival of old friends, the leaves swayed gently in the breeze, making rustling sounds, like a welcoming music.

Roger searched the tree trunks for a long time, but still could not find the Bowtruckle that Professor Grubbly-Planck mentioned. There were too many creatures living on this big tree, and they inadvertently obscured the existence of the Bowtruckle.

He stepped back and placed some beetles near the roots of the tree. Almost instantly, an ordinary branch suddenly came to life. Its sharp fingertips pierced the rough bark and swiftly rushed towards the food.

Compared to the Bowtruckle in the classroom, this little guy in front of me is taller. The leaves on his head are in the same inverted egg shape as the alder tree.

Roger squatted down and said to it in a gentle tone: "I need a branch to make the handle of the wand."

The Bowtruckle immediately showed its defensive instinct, baring its teeth and claws to warn the wizard in front of it. Its sharp claws waved in front of Rogge's eyes, as if to tell him not to try to break the branch.

"Listen, little one, I am the master of this tree." Roger pointed at the alder tree, with unquestionable authority in his tone, "It was once a wand that lost its owner. I gave it new life with the blood of a unicorn. Now, it has grown and needs to be pruned to make it stronger."

"Don't mistake my kindness for weakness!" Rogge's tone suddenly became heavier, and the firm voice instantly froze the Bowtruckle's threatening actions.

It turned its head and stared at the alder tree it was guarding, as if it was struggling fiercely in its heart. Finally, it gave up the delicious food at its feet and quickly climbed back to its own trunk.

Immediately afterwards, a series of "bang bang bang" sounds suddenly rang in my ears.

The Bowtruckle stood on a branch and jumped vigorously, as if telling Roger: "Use this one."

"God's sword is invisible!" Rogge waved his magic wand, and a beam of light shot out from it, accurately cutting off the branch chosen by the Bowtruckle.

This branch is thinner than the wrist, straight and even. What boy can resist a long and straight branch?
Roger held the branch without leaves, and couldn't help curling up his lips. He waved to the Bowtruckle on the tree and promised to bring more food in return next time.

He carefully examined the entire branch and put his wand aside for comparison. Compared to the long years that the red sandalwood took hundreds of years to grow into a timber, the growth speed of the alder was almost instantaneous, enough to ignore the passage of time.

He weighed them casually and could clearly feel the difference in density just by feeling. The extraordinary thing about the alder tree that Professor Grubbly-Plank mentioned was perhaps more reflected in its magic.

The unusual death of Chilo had infused his wand with a strange glow. Combined with the power of the unicorn's blood, the alder tree that had been created undoubtedly contained mysteries beyond Roger's imagination.

However, Roger knew very little about the profound art of wand making and was unable to understand its subtlety and extraordinaryness. He measured the size of his palm, cut off a section from the end of the branch, and began to make his own wand handle.

(End of this chapter)