A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 506: Silver is different from silver (Happy Children's Day!)

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his deep eyes penetrating through the shadows, pondering the complex proposition of loyalty. This made him feel a little painful, but for the greater ideal, he knew he had to move forward firmly.

However, there is one thing Snape said is not wrong. Harry will learn the brain block more seriously under Lupin. However, letting a professor who is not so familiar with the brain block to teach another straightforward student will definitely not be so wonderful.

Harry still dreams of strange things at night, or rather, he is not opposed to spying on Voldemort's actions. He even has an indescribable little excitement.

The cold October wind blew into the Scottish Highlands early, and large flakes of snow fell from the sky like a white dream. Students wrapped in scarves rushed to the Quidditch field, complaining that winter had come too early this year.

Roger was also dragged by Daphne to watch the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"I didn't expect Neville to be the goalkeeper." Daphne pointed to the other end of the court, a hint of surprise in her eyes.

The fat Neville does have the talent of a goalkeeper. The same flying broom has more explosive power in his hands. He is like a wall, moving back and forth quickly in front of the three rings.

The Slytherin chasers tried to break through Neville's defense again and again, but they were all blocked by him quickly and accurately. Roger couldn't help but think of an adjective: a flexible fat man.

However, when he faced Malfoy, the situation was different. Neville looked a little guilty, and every attack of Draco was like a deadly arrow, accurately shooting into the goal behind him.

"80:0!"

The sound of the bell representing the score echoed mercilessly in the cold air, and the moods of the spectators at both ends of the court were completely opposite.

Draco raised his fist proudly and paraded quickly in front of the audience like a Quidditch star, basking in the applause and cheers of victory.

Roger high-fived him and celebrated the Slytherin team's advantage. He looked at Harry who was looking for the Golden Snitch in the distance and said to Daphne, "Except for Harry, the other Gryffindor players responsible for attack were completely beaten by us."

The game continued, defeat moving steadily and firmly towards Gryffindor.

Roger yawned loudly. The one-sided game almost made him sleepy. The final result depended on Harry's luck or Draco's scoring speed.

"Neville must have let Draco score!" A questioning voice suddenly broke out from the Gryffindor audience. "He and Draco were in the same magic club. He must have let Draco score on purpose!"

"Look!" The man pointed at another Slytherin Chaser, whose Quaffle was easily blocked by Neville. "Did you see that? Neville was able to block the ball, he must have done it on purpose!"

"He lost to Slytherin on purpose! Change, must change!"

"Substitute!"

"Substitute!"

……

Rhythmic calls began to be heard from the Gryffindor stands, with almost all supporters clamoring for a replacement for goalkeeper Neville.

Because they were already 120 points behind, if Draco scored three more goals, they would face a crushing defeat.

"I hate the new Quidditch rules!" someone complained. "It seriously weakens Harry's role and ability!"

The game was suspended amid the shouts of the students, and Angelina, as the team leader, had to face this tense situation. She gathered the team members in a circle to discuss countermeasures.

"Neville, why couldn't you stop Draco's Quaffle?" Angelina's eyes were as sharp as a knife, and there was a hint of subtle doubt in her voice, as if she began to believe the unfounded speculations in the audience.

"I'm sorry." Neville lowered his head helplessly, his voice almost inaudible: "The Quaffle thrown by Draco seems to change its trajectory. It spins and its flight path is very strange..."

"I see, it's not that you can't, it's that you don't want to?" A team member interrupted, his tone full of doubt, "Everyone knows that you used to be members of the Jackdaw Magic Society..."

"Okay!" Angelina decisively interrupted the players' dispute. Her eyes swept across the bench, her heart filled with helplessness.

Without new blood joining for two consecutive years, the strength of Gryffindor's Quidditch team has obviously declined. And the players selected this year are obviously not on the same level as those who participated in the secondary league.

There were constant calls for "substitution" from the sidelines, and as the captain, she had to consider the opinions of the college audience.

Harry thought, his eyes moving back and forth between Neville and substitute Ron. After a brief silence, he said, "Angelina, I don't think we should replace Neville."

He gave Neville some support in a firm and powerful voice: "Our defense can't stop Malfoy at all. As a goalkeeper who played for the first time, Neville has performed very well.

If we can get the Beaters and Chasers to hold Malfoy back a little better, and let Neville deal with the other two Chasers, we may still have a chance of winning the match."

He turned his head and looked up at the sky of the stadium, with a trace of regret in his eyes: "If it weren't for the timeout, I would have almost found the trace of the Golden Snitch."

Harry's words were like a stream of fresh air, gradually easing the tense atmosphere. As a seeker who had won the Secondary League trophy for Hogwarts, his insight and experience were undoubtedly the most valuable assets of the team.

However, Harry's suggestion made Ron unhappy. He hugged his flying broom tightly, muttering, and he didn't think he was worse than Neville.

In his opinion, he and Harry had a closer relationship, and Harry should support him in going on the court. Harry's statement just now made him feel that their friendship was hurt.

"If the game starts again, how long will it take you to catch the Golden Snitch?" Angelina broke the silence, her eyes fixed on Harry.

In the face of complete defeat in the head-on confrontation, they can only place all their hopes on Harry catching the Golden Snitch, just like before.

"Ten minutes." Harry answered without hesitation, "Slytherin's Beaters have been targeting me, and their Seekers are almost being used as defenders. I'm confident I can shake them off, but I need to find the Golden Snitch first."

"This..." The other players exchanged glances, knowing that at Draco's scoring speed, ten minutes would be enough for him to score five more Quaffles.

Angelina took a deep breath and looked up at the audience. If they didn't make a substitution, according to Neville's performance just now, Gryffindor had almost no chance of winning this game.

If Ron was substituted, she might lose faster, but at least she wouldn't have to bear the blame from the audience after the game. What if Ron's performance exceeded expectations?

She prayed silently, even though her intuition told her that the possibility of this happening was very small. Otherwise, Neville would have been on the bench. As Madam Hooch blew the whistle, the game was about to start again, and she had to make a decision immediately.

"Ron, you be the goalkeeper..." Angelina hadn't finished her words when Neville interrupted her anxiously: "Give me another chance, I'm sure I can stop him..."

Angelina shook her head. She had already made the decision to let Ron play. She got on her broom and flew towards the field, leaving Neville standing there in a daze.

"Oh, we see that Gryffindor has made some personnel adjustments. Now they have three red-haired players on the field." The commentator's voice was amplified by magic and spread throughout the stadium. "They are the twins of the Weasley family: George and Fred, and the youngest boy in the family, Ron."

"Will their substitution decision bring a turning point?" the commentator's question was full of suspense.

As soon as he finished speaking, the Slytherin players had already grabbed the Quaffle. They worked together seamlessly and pressed harder, and they barely needed the help of the Beaters to easily push the Gryffindor Chasers away.

"Give me the ball!" Draco loudly demanded to his teammates for the first time. He stared at Ron like a hawk, with a strange light flashing in his eyes.

"Oh, the show is about to begin." Roger said with interest, "Draco is only angry about Neville's withdrawal from the club, but he hates Ron from the bottom of his heart."

"Disgust?" Daphne blinked her curious eyes and asked hurriedly, "Why? There are so many children in the Weasley family, why does he only feel this way about Ron?"

Roger raised a smile and said softly, "Remember when we first entered school? Draco wanted to be friends with Harry."

"Oh! I remember now!" Daphne suddenly understood something, with a hint of shock in her voice, "Harry rejected him at that time, I remember... I remember Harry said he..."

It was a long time ago, and Daphne didn't care much about the relationship between Harry Potter and Draco. Therefore, she could only vaguely remember that Harry was more willing to choose Ron as a friend than Draco.

She didn't expect that Draco would still remember this incident. Perhaps Harry's rejection hurt his full and proud self-esteem.

"No wonder he hates Ron so much." Daphne looked at Draco dribbling the ball, her eyes wide open in shock, "He seems to be even faster!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the Quaffle flew in an elegant and dangerous arc in the air like a bolt of lightning. Ron held the flying broom tightly, leaned forward, and tried his best to intercept it.

However, the Quaffle seemed to have a will of its own. With a cunning spin, its trajectory was as unpredictable as a snake, and it slid deftly in front of Ron's outstretched fingers. Finally, in an almost mocking gesture, it circled around the goal several times before slowly falling in.

"I'll make you understand that Quidditch is not a sport for people like you." Draco looked at him provocatively, his eyes like a cheetah staring at its prey.

Faced with this extremely aggressive yet confident look, Ron finally understood why Neville seemed a little hesitant in front of him.

Draco's Quaffle was not only fast, but also had complex rotations, a skill far beyond the level of ordinary students. His summer training was obviously effective, which made his performance on the court even more outstanding.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was concentrating on finding the Golden Snitch in the air. He looked back and saw that the morale of the team had become even weaker.

But as a Seeker, Harry was more of a free man, and could not directly boost the morale of the team like a Chaser or Beater could.

All he could do was fly harder, hoping to catch the golden snitch that would decide the outcome before Draco scored the final goal.

Harry's heart was filled with determination, and his eyes searched the court quickly and sharply, not missing any trace of golden flashes.

However, the Slytherin Seeker was like a piece of stubborn taffy, following closely behind him. Although he could not catch up with Harry, he would never let Harry get away easily.

Every time Harry caught a glimpse of the Snitch's faint light, before he could dive, the Slytherin Seeker would rush up like a shadow. The opponent's only purpose was to disrupt his flight, and with the Beater's constant attacks, Harry had missed several good opportunities to catch the Snitch.

"140:0!" The commentator's voice echoed over the stadium, full of urgency, "Time is running out for Gryffindor and Harry Potter!"

The Slytherin students had already begun to celebrate their victory in advance. Their cheers and applause were like surging waves, hitting the Gryffindor audience seats one after another.

"Draco! Draco!..."

Cheers came one after another, and Malfoy took the ball to attack again. He nimbly passed through the interception of the bludgers and pierced the Gryffindor defense like an arrow.

"Victory! Victory!"

The cheers on the field were so uniform and shocking that Ron in front of the goal was almost shocked.

Draco had completely destroyed his psychological defenses with just two brilliant and humorous goals. Ron went from being full of confidence at the beginning to being dull and wooden.

Ron didn't even make the move to clamp his broom and take off to intercept when Draco flew in front of him at a ostentatious speed.

In contrast, although Neville was also unable to stop Draco's attack, at least he dared to make the move of guarding the goal, showing his courage.

Draco's advantage on the field was so obvious that he even had time to look up at Harry Potter high in the sky.

Harry was still looking for the Golden Snitch, but the Slytherin Seeker was like an annoying mosquito or fly, constantly disturbing him and making it impossible for him to concentrate.

Draco clenched his right hand into a fist and swung it high into the air with full power, while his left hand was released lightly, allowing the Quaffle to fall into the goal almost effortlessly under the pull of gravity.

His movements were so nonchalant, like taking an apple from a basket in the market. This contemptuous attitude was undoubtedly a great insult to the Gryffindor players.

"Haha, there's no such thing as tears in competitive games. If you're a beginner, just practice more." Rogge also applauded Draco for his outstanding performance.

He thought Draco should be the Chaser who led the team's attack, rather than stubbornly competing with Harry to see who was the best Seeker. Everyone needs to find the right position.

Especially under the influence of Roger, the International Quidditch Association changed the rules of the game so that once the score difference reached 150 points, the game would end. This change significantly increased the importance of the chaser and made him the real core of the team.

"This is an indisputable victory!" The voice on the commentary desk finally had a neutral tone. "Draco and Slytherin completely destroyed Gryffindor's defense with their unparalleled skills and speed."

"Especially after the goalkeeper was replaced midway through the match, Gryffindor's last fig leaf was ruthlessly torn off by its own people."

"Although Neville couldn't stop Draco's attack, at least he dared to stand up and defend. Ron, who came on as a substitute, was more like a wooden stake and couldn't even control his own broom."

"Also, their chasers and beaters didn't perform well and were unable to intercept the opponent..."

Harry fell back to the ground in silence. Like his teammates, he left the court dejectedly. This defeat was complete. Whether in terms of tactics or the players' individual abilities, there was an irreparable gap.

Under the somewhat shameless targeting of Slytherin, Harry couldn't play the role of savior every time. His teammates had to become stronger, at least to be able to withstand Draco's attack and buy Harry precious time to catch the Golden Snitch. "Roar, roar!" Draco proudly carried his flying broom and celebrated his victory with his classmates in the Slytherin common room.

Everyone was praising the players' performances loudly, especially Malfoy's calmness in the final goal, which stood out even more in comparison with Ron's.

"If I were the Beater, I would hit the Bludger hard with my bat and knock the Gryffindor players off their brooms one by one," Draco said excitedly, "just like what Roger did to the mammoth wizard back then."

Roger smiled and shook his head. He was not as violent as Draco said. A cheerful ballad rang out in the common room. Draco couldn't wait to compete with Gryffindor again.

That night, Draco drank a lot of butterbeer. Some people saw him being helped back to the dormitory by Pansy, while others said he pretended to be drunk on purpose.

Roger was not interested in these gossips. After dinner, he rushed to Gringotts via the Floo Network. His magic airship, sword and soft armor were finally completed!
It was Grindellock who came to greet him again. Its status in Gringotts seemed to have improved. It was wearing a neat striped suit and leather shoes that would make flies slippery, and it ran towards Rogge quickly.

"Rogge, come and take a look. You have no idea how beautiful this huge white airship is." Grindlock enthusiastically described the airship's elegant curves and unparalleled functions to Rogge, as if it was the most perfect means of transportation in the world.

"If we were to live in the sky, we would definitely choose it instead of the underground railroad tracks," it exclaimed sincerely.

Rogge was also full of curiosity and expectation about his airship. He said in a half-joking tone: "There are no gems or gold in the clouds. If you want to live on them, you must be a bunch of paupers."

"Oh, that's terrible." Grindlock shuddered, unable to imagine himself ending up penniless.

Its fingers were as thick as carrots and were covered with all kinds of rings, including imperial green, cat's eye, pink diamonds, and some yellow gems that Roger had never seen before.

Passing through the upside-down underground world, Rogge came to the magma lake again. A blue and white open-top airship was hovering above the furnace, and the red light of the lava jumped and flowed on its shell, reflecting it like a pearl on the lake, shining brightly.

The huge and elegant body seems to be a fantasy object shaped by flowing clouds. The crystal window on the head emits light waves for scanning, adding a mysterious futuristic feeling.

Looking back along the streamlined body, the oval convertible may look a bit crude at the moment, but its spectacular degree is already evident. Rogge knew that once he completed the subsequent layout according to the design, this would become the most luxurious entertainment viewing area.

Further back are flexible fins in the shape of a triangle. They can not only adjust the attitude of the airship, but also spray flames and electric arcs when necessary to achieve rapid acceleration.

Although Rogge had prepared himself mentally, when the huge ship hovered above his head, he couldn't help but sigh: "It's so beautiful. Is there any magic?"

Bellinrum emerged from the furnace with red eyes. He wiped the black ash off his face and complained to Roger: "Rog, you need to pay me properly."

"Because of this big airship, I haven't slept well this month." Bellingrum raised the hammer and pointed at the ridges on it and said, "See? My hammer is deformed. You have to compensate me! You must compensate me!"

"And all that magic!" he complained loudly. "We only built the shell, but without magic this thing can't fly."

"I should have gotten some vines from it to hang it, instead of carving extra fairy runes on it." Bellinrum's words revealed his dissatisfaction with the magic work, "This is extra work, and it needs extra money!"

A gleam flashed in Roger's eyes. Bellinrum's words saved him a lot of effort. However, he knew in his heart that the goblin must have his own purpose for being so kind.

"Let's go up and take a look." He said, spreading the wings of Daedalus and landing lightly on the airship.

Bellinrum had no wand or wings, so he could only climb up the ladder. He stared at the wings behind Roger and asked curiously, "Who made this magic item? It's rare and precious."

"An alchemist," Roger answered bluntly, "He once made the Golden Snitch."

"No wonder." Bellinrum nodded slightly, with a hint of praise in his tone, "It is indeed rare for a wizard to make such a sophisticated magic prop."

"If it weren't for your design, I would rather add a pair of wings to this big guy than use magic to make it fly," Bellinrum continued.

"why?"

"Don't you think it makes sense to fly with wings? Otherwise, why don't you just ride one of those stupid wooden brooms?"

Rogge curled his lips. Although he agreed with Bellinrum's evaluation of the flying broom, he could not agree to add wings to the magic airship.

"This is different from the wings on my back. First of all, I can't sense the airship, let alone control the extra wings. Also, the target is too big to be hidden." He explained softly.

Bellingrum smiled and said, "I see you just don't want to pay the extra material and labor costs."

"If you say so, then so be it." Roger didn't argue with it, but picked up the design and examined it carefully. He carefully examined every detail to make sure everything met his requirements.

In the dark cabin, the tip of the wand in Roger's hand glowed with a soft fluorescent light, carefully and quickly sweeping across every floor, every room, and every floor, so that he could ensure that the airship embryo built by the goblins would not affect his later decoration plans.

"Check with a lantern? Do you doubt our goblin craftsmanship?" Bellinrum's voice was filled with dissatisfaction. His accusation was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, breaking the tranquility of the cabin. "We goblins not only value money, but also keep our promises. Every piece of work is a reflection of our craftsmanship. Goblin products must be top-notch!"

Rogge didn't look back. His eyes were still fixed on the structure of the airship. There was a hint of comfort in his voice: "It's just an acceptance procedure. Don't get so excited."

His fingers gently slid across the structural lines of the airship, as if playing a silent melody, checking the precision of every inch of the line.

The scale of the airship is so huge that even a deviation of a few millimeters could cause unpredictable results during flight.

However, as he inspected it, Roger began to realize that Bellingrum's confidence was not unfounded. Every part of the airship fit together perfectly, as if it were a one-piece whole, from head to tail, from top to bottom, without the slightest deviation. Even the cutout of the upper canopy of the airship was handled flawlessly.

Finally, Rogge stopped what he was doing and turned to face Bellinrum.

"I'm sorry, Bellinrum." His eyes were full of respect, and he bowed slightly to it sincerely, "I apologize for my previous doubts. I have never seen such exquisite craftsmanship. The goblin's forging skills are truly amazing."

"I've learned about the manufacturing of large ships. Some are made by welding steel plates, stacking wood, and some are made by assembling sections. However, I didn't find any traces of related processing on this airship."

"The difference between those crafts and this airship is like heaven and earth. Can you tell me how they did it?"

Although Bellinrum was the king of fairies, as a defeated race, it had never felt such respect from wizards. Especially Rogge's bow made it feel surprised and moved, and it almost wanted to share its treasure with this wizard who appreciated it.

"That's easy." Bellinrum smiled triumphantly, his beard dancing happily as he laughed. "The entire magma lake is our forge, a holy place for us to display our skills."

"Our craft is unique," Bellingrum said, pointing downwards. "We put the materials into the furnace, and they turn into molten liquid and flow into the lake. Then, in the magma, we use our hammers to hammer out perfect works one by one."

"This airship is forged from the power of magma and goblin forging."

There was a gleam of surprise in Rogge's eyes. He had never thought that his airship would be born in such an environment.

He imagined the scene, goblins swinging hammers, using the magic of the furnace to make the magma become part of the hammers, beating the metal into incredible shapes.

"This is beyond my imagination." Roger exclaimed, "Who would have thought that a small furnace could control the surging magma."

"Hahaha, Rogge, you're right! That's why we goblins are the most outstanding blacksmiths in the world." It took out the sword and silver armor and boasted, "Compared to Ragnak who forged the sword of Gryffindor, my skills are no less outstanding."

He then complained, "However, the material you provided is really not very good. Although the snake bird eggshell is slightly better than silver, it took me a lot of effort to soften it."

As Rogge carefully examined the sword and soft armor, he asked tentatively: "I thought it was mithril. After all, snake birds were born from those eggshells."

"Mithril?" Bellinrum was unfamiliar with the word, but he was familiar with snake bird eggshells. "Snake birds can gather silver from food and soil, which is no different from silver in ore. Our craft is to transform this gift from nature into unparalleled works."

"But there's something different about the silver that makes up the eggshells. It's more complex and has some magical powers."

"You can call it Mithril if you wish."

Rogge's brows frowned slightly. Mithril and silver are two completely different substances and cannot be compared at all.

His fingers gently stroked the texture of the soft armor, feeling the subtle fluctuations of magic. The soft armor felt soft, like a piece of silk. It also had a certain affinity for magic, but it was definitely not as strong as the mithril he imagined.

Perhaps, it can be used as a low-grade substitute for Mithril, he thought. At least in the current magic world, Roger has not found a better metal than it.

Moreover, it has an advantage that it can become a renewable resource by breeding snake birds.

"Bellinrum, is it true that there is little difference between the eggshell before and after softening?" Rogge's tone was full of curiosity, and he was eager to gain more knowledge from the Goblin King.

Bellinrum smiled. The wizard's attitude made him feel very happy. "The difference is not that big, actually."

It begins to explain, "Inside the snakebird, the egg is in a very soft state and contains relatively little silver. As the baby snakebird forms inside the egg, the silver content increases and the eggshell hardens."

"When the little snake bird hatches, the texture of the eggshell is basically the same as ordinary silver. Besides, silver is not a very precious metal. We are not interested in snake birds as a creature."

Roger curled his lips secretly and said in his heart: "If you are not interested, how can you know so much about the changes in the snake bird eggshell."

He continued to nod, pretending to be extremely impressed by Bellinrum's knowledge, but in fact he was trying to trick him into revealing more secrets about the metal.

"The softening process is to remove most of the silver in the eggshell and ensure that the remaining silver and the remaining magic in the eggshell maintain a suitable ratio." It shook its head and complained: "If it weren't for your special request, this method is actually redundant. After all, a large piece of silver ingot is not worth much in the market. There are as many silver ores underground as termites."

A gleam of thought flashed in Rogge's eyes, and he proposed a new idea: "Then, Bellinrum, can you try to inject more magic power into the eggshell? In this way, each eggshell can be made into a piece of soft armor, and the rest will be completely yours."

Bellinrum immediately raised his voice, with a hint of urgency in his tone: "Rogge, all the remaining materials from the forging process belong to me! I have already handed over the soft armor to you as agreed!"

"There is no doubt about that." Roger nodded heavily, fully confirming its request. "I'm just curious."

"Wizards are always so curious." Bellinrum said sarcastically, and then continued, "Just as you wizards cannot transform into real magical creatures through Animagus, we goblins cannot inject magic into the eggshells of snake birds.

It's different, goblins are goblins, wizards are wizards, magical creatures are magical creatures."

Roger nodded secretly. Based on the information provided by Bellinrum, he guessed that the snake bird's body was like a crucible. Silver, the snake bird's magic power, and the embryo in the body (at least these three) interacted in a complex process, eventually forming a silver eggshell.

Although the value of snake bird eggshells is not much different from ordinary silver, the softened snake bird eggshells show extraordinary characteristics in terms of magic affinity and metal properties.

Normally, the ductility and rigidity of a metal are inversely proportional, which is why goblins would not choose to forge Galleons out of pure gold, as the metal would be too soft, like plasticine.

But the soft armor in his hand has proved that the softened snake bird eggshell has a qualitative leap in ductility and rigidity. In his opinion, this material is far more precious than gold.

However, wizards in this world do not have much demand for metals with mithril properties, and no one has explored other potential uses for snake bird eggshells. Even Newt, the Master of Magical Beasts, only regards it as a precious metal.

Rogge knew the extraordinary power of this material, but in the absence of relevant knowledge and skills, he could only make it into this soft armor that was full of water. The reason for this was that the world lacked relevant knowledge.

"Alas, for wizards, knowledge is power." He sighed regretfully and put on the soft armor.

The soft armor fits the skin and feels cool. I can still feel its weight, like putting on an extra layer of thin sweater, but it is still very light.

Bellinrum was very satisfied with his craftsmanship. This set of exquisite soft armor looked even better on Rogue.

It nodded in admiration and said, "It would be great if the ore used to make the sword of Gryffindor was still there."

"Isn't it made of silver?" Roger looked at the sword and asked curiously, "Can't you find similar metal underground?"

"It is silver, but not silver from the earth."

"You're not going to tell me that silver comes from outer space?" Rogge said half-jokingly.

"Why is this impossible?" Bellingrum raised his head proudly and said confidently, "Although meteorite iron is precious, as long as you collect it carefully, you can find hundreds of pounds every year."

"However, meteorites containing silver are extremely rare. So far, apart from the silver meteorite used by Ragnac to forge the sword of Gryffindor, no other one has been found."

It turned its gaze to the sword, tears welling up in its eyes. It was obvious that it had a special feeling for the unique silver meteorite. "Damn Ragnak, how many Galleons did Gryffindor give to let it use its only silver meteorite to forge the sword?"

Rogge showed a helpless expression on his face. He was overthinking it. Bellingrum just felt that the product was sold at a low price.

"Humph, if I had the same material, this set of soft armor would definitely have extraordinary abilities." Its tone was full of reluctance and desire, staring at the sword in Rogge's hand hatefully, "Absorbing extra power, it's amazing!"

(End of this chapter)