A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 510 Dumbledore Wants to Get Free

Hagrid's cabin was rejuvenated in the cold winter night. Wisps of blue smoke rose slowly from the chimney, as if a welcome signal.

Those narrow and ancient "田"-shaped windows emit warm golden light. They flicker in the night like a pair of warm eyes, watching the snowflakes falling from the sky.

Harry's heart was filled with eager anticipation. He could not help but quicken his pace and almost ran towards the cabin. Ron and Neville followed closely behind him, leaving a trail of footprints on the snow. Before they could knock on the door, they heard the barking of a dog from inside the house.

"Fang... get out of the way..." Hagrid's hoarse and friendly voice came from behind the door, followed by the sound of the bolt being pulled and the wooden door creaking.

As the door slowly opened, Hagrid's huge head poked out with a tired smile on his face.

Harry and the other two gasped as they looked at his injured face. Hagrid had obvious scars on his hands and face, but he still waved them in warmly. He carefully closed the curtains to prevent Filch from discovering that they had violated curfew.

"Look, I'm a prefect now!" Ron proudly showed off the badge on his chest, and his words were full of confidence, "With me here, you won't be caught for breaking curfew."

Hagrid tried to open his swollen eyes, his purple eyelids swollen like rotten tomatoes, and through the tiny gap he smiled.

"Hagrid, are you hurt?" Harry's eyes were full of concern.

Hagrid's face and hands were covered with scars, some of which were scarred and some of which were still oozing with red blood. His hair looked like it had been torn by a lion and was as messy as a bird's nest.

Hagrid nodded slowly and limped towards the wall. He took every step carefully and was obviously injured elsewhere. Harry looked at him and suspected that Hagrid might have broken his ribs.

Neville hadn't spoken since he entered the room. He thought for a moment, reached into his pocket, and took out some dried herbs.

"I have some herbs here that may be able to help you." He took some out and introduced them, "Dicum has a powerful healing ability and can heal surface wounds; Marigold is very effective in treating fractures and stopping bleeding; and rosemary and sage can relieve pain..."

"Thank you." Hagrid's voice was low and gentle. He did not reject Neville's kindness, but slowly poured hot tea for them.

The snow came especially early this year. Before Halloween, the hills and plains of the Scottish Highlands were already covered with thick snow, turning into a vast white snowfield.

The plants in the forbidden forest also withered early and fell asleep under the ice and snow. The herbs that were usually used for treatment were now nowhere to be found.

In this cold season, the preciousness of herbs is self-evident, and Neville's generosity warms Hagrid's heart. He smiles, feeling sincerely happy that Harry can make such a kind new friend.

"Where's Hermione? She's not with you?" he asked, walking towards the huge wooden table in the middle of the cabin.

Ron sneered, his tone carrying a hint of bitterness and disdain: "Miss Granger spends the whole day with Ariana, or goes to the Jackdaw Magic Club to play with the dark wizards of Slytherin, so she won't think of us."

Hearing Ron's sarcasm and ridicule, Neville couldn't help but speak out to refute and defend the magic club and Hermione: "The Jackdaw Magic Club is not only composed of Slytherin students, but also students from other colleges..."

"Heh, maybe Roger is recruiting his followers? Maybe after he graduates, he will form his own ambitious club, just like the Dark Lord did before." Ron's words were full of sarcasm, and he obviously held a strong prejudice against the members of the Jackdaw Magic Society.

If Neville's parents were not members of the Order of the Phoenix, he even suspected that Longbottom was a spy sent by Rogue to infiltrate them.

Seeing that the atmosphere between the two was becoming tense again, Harry quickly interrupted their conversation and tried to change the subject: "Hagrid, were you attacked?" His voice was full of concern.

"I'm fine!" Hagrid shouted emphatically. "Nothing's wrong at all."

Although his words were firm, Harry, Ron and Neville could see that Hagrid had obviously been beaten up by the one who was more powerful.

"If one of us had a face turned into a meat paste, would you say it was okay?" Ron couldn't help but say.

"I'll say it again! I'm fine!" Hagrid insisted.

"Why don't you go see Madam Pomfrey?" Ron glanced at the herbs, trying to show his concern: "Those herbs may not be useful for your injury..."

"I'll take care of it, okay!" Hagrid interrupted Ron in a rough voice, obviously not wanting to continue discussing this topic.

His sturdy hands removed the tea towel on the table, revealing the bloody dragon meat underneath. It was bright green in color and slightly larger than a car tire. The blood dripped from the dragon meat, and a strange and pungent smell filled the air.

"You're not going to eat this? It looks poisonous." Harry asked curiously, his eyes fixed on the unusual piece of meat.

"This is dragon meat. I'm not going to eat it." He applied the piece of dragon meat to his injured face, and green dragon blood dripped onto his thick beard.

Hagrid closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and hummed a few times with satisfaction. Harry could feel that the piece of dragon meat seemed to relieve Hagrid's pain.

However, he was more curious about where Hagrid had been during this period of time and why he had wounds all over his body. However, no matter how he asked, Hagrid remained tight-lipped and refused to reveal even a single bit of information.

Finally, he even stared at them in a stern tone and muttered "nosy".

But Hagrid is not a person who is good at keeping secrets. He is straightforward and not good at hiding his thoughts. Harry and Ron use clever questions and language traps to quickly find out Hagrid's secret mission.

It turned out that during the summer vacation, Hagrid and the headmaster of Beauxbatons, the giantess Madame Maxime, acted together. They embarked on a journey to find the giant with the mission and gifts given by Dumbledore.

"Why doesn't the headmaster go by himself?" Harry asked curiously. He was confused about the purpose of this task. "You have to walk all the way there, which is..."

"Giants don't like magic. If we use the Floo Network, we might be discovered by the Ministry of Magic." Hagrid took a big sip of black tea and lowered his voice, revealing the risks of using the Floo Network. "The headmaster suspects that the Ministry of Magic has spies from the Dark Lord."

"Giant!" Harry and the other two looked at each other and finally understood what Hagrid's secret mission was.

"It was indeed a very long journey. Fortunately, Orim accompanied me. She is so gentle and beautiful!" Hagrid laughed naively, and the wound on his face immediately hurt so much that he gritted his teeth.

But these physical pains could not affect the joy in his heart. In his heart, Orim Maxim was like a goddess. Being able to travel with her was simply the most wonderful thing in the world.

“We went over the ridge one day and there they were,” Hagrid recalled, his voice thick with excitement. “Little fires, big shadows… The giants moved like the mountain.”

The three of them quickly asked a series of questions, wanting to learn more about the giants. They learned that the situation of the giants was not optimistic. What Hagrid saw was the last giant tribe in the world, with only 70 or 80 people left. A long time ago, there were at least more than a hundred such tribes in the world.

Following Dumbledore's instructions, Hagrid presented a gift to the tribal leader, Guglocks.

"All giant leaders are called Goog, but Cacus is the biggest, ugliest, and laziest!" Hagrid couldn't help laughing when he thought of Cacus's appearance. On the first day, they gave everyone a Googly Fire. It was a kind of eternally burning torch made by Dumbledore, symbolizing friendship and warmth. There was a commotion in the camp, but Hagrid followed Dumbledore's instructions and chose not to talk.

The next day, they gave Gogo a beautiful helmet. This helmet was made by goblins and was indestructible, representing respect and honor. Akus was somewhat tempted, and Hagrid told them his purpose.

However, just when the two sides were about to reach an agreement, tragedy struck. That night, Akus was killed, and the giant tribe replaced the new Gorgon. Hagrid gave the third gift, a large roll of dragon skin, to the new leader, Gorgon, as planned.

This gift is not only practical, but also regarded as a symbol of great power and supreme glory in giant culture. Hagrid hopes that through this gift, he can rebuild trust with the new leader and continue the previous communication.

However, Shin Gogogoma only accepted the gift, but turned a deaf ear to Dumbledore's goodwill and request for an alliance. He even ordered his men to tie up Hagrid. If it weren't for Madam Maxime's timely magic rescue, Hagrid would have died at the hands of the giant.

Later, they learned that the Death Eaters sent by Voldemort tempted the new leader with generous gifts, and even the killing of the old leader Gogo might have been a conspiracy planned by the Death Eaters.

Harry stared at Hagrid's bloodstained face with a hint of hesitation in his eyes. He asked, "Then why did you come back so late? Sirius said that Madame Maxime had gone back a long time ago."

Hagrid felt a headache when he realized that Harry was determined to find out who had beaten him. He also knew that his mouth had no zipper and Harry could easily get the information he wanted from him.

"You should go back!" Hagrid pushed open the door, and the cold wind rushed in with snowflakes as big as plates, bringing a biting cold.

He obviously didn't want to continue the previous topic, hoping that Harry, Ron and Neville would leave to avoid further questioning. He pointed to the castle that was vaguely visible in the snow and reminded them: "Go back quickly, it's getting late."

Harry sighed helplessly, and although he was reluctant, he was pushed out of the door by Hagrid. Just as they were about to leave, Hagrid suddenly said: "Hermione is a good wizard, she often visits me."

"She's my friend too, you can be friends too, right?"

Before Harry could respond, Ron immediately retorted, "Friend? Unless she leaves the Jackdaw Magic Society and joins our Lionheart Shield, just like Neville did."

There was a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone, "However, we at Lionheart Shield don't have a vice president position."

Hagrid scratched his big head, as if recalling something, and muttered, "James seemed to have a small organization in his time."

He thought his voice was very low, but in the quiet night, it shook the snow off the eaves like a subwoofer.

Harry stared at Hagrid's face, and before he could ask more about his father James, he heard Filch's complaining voice.

Even though Ron was a prefect, if Filch caught them together they would still be reported to Professor McGonagall and the headmaster.

"Go back quickly." Hagrid waved his hand, picked up the dragon meat that had slipped off, and put it back on the wound on his face.

Although his action of driving them away was rough and direct, it also revealed a hint of reluctance, and it was obvious that he was enjoying the brief reunion with Harry and the others.

The next morning, the world was white. It was still a week before Halloween. Roger walked into the castle with a suitcase in two feet of snow.

It contained one hundred bottles of a potion to prevent the Serpent-Man virus, which could make Muggle blood immune to the Serpent-Man virus. If a person took a whole bottle alone, they would be immune to all blood diseases.

"The amount of potion is too small." Dumbledore looked at the test tube in front of him that was shining with blue light, and said softly: "Even if we use Thunderbirds to spread them, we can only save a hundred cities."

Snape stood aside, examining the potion formula. His sharp eyes quickly noticed an unusual ingredient in the formula - snake marrow juice. He looked up at Roger, a hint of curiosity flashed in his eyes, and thought to himself: "Does this snake marrow juice come from snake people?"

"Is there any way to increase production?" Dumbledore carefully put the potion in his hand back into the box, glanced at Snape and turned to Roger.

Dumbledore obviously hoped that Snape could also offer his own insights and make some constructive suggestions to improve the formula so as to achieve large-scale production of the potion to prevent the snake-man virus.

But Snape was very satisfied with his students' potion creations. First of all, the materials used in the potion were not precious, and there were no specific requirements for astronomical phenomena, which was very rare in potion making.

Most importantly, each potion can be brewed in just one hour, which proves the efficiency and high output capacity of the formula.

Snape sincerely believed that this was a very good potion. Even he himself could not be so thoughtful in every aspect. As for the production problem, he believed that it was due to the large population of the Muggle world.

Roger thought for a moment, then pretended to be embarrassed and said, "The output of herbs in the magic world is roughly fixed, and the snake marrow juice in it needs to be obtained from vipers, which is not a commonly used resource."

He focused on what the problem was with limiting production and set the stage for the proposals that follow.

"In fact, I have an even more daring formula." Roger said, handing the second parchment to Dumbledore, his face full of helplessness, "Unless we use snake-man ingredients to make the antidote, we can ensure a sufficient amount..."

"That's impossible!" Dumbledore interrupted harshly, frowning tightly and holding the second formula tightly in his hand.

As expected, he could not accept using snakemen to brew potions. This formula touched Dumbledore's moral bottom line, and he would not consider any plan that violated the dignity of life, even if it was to save more lives.

Snape looked over curiously, secretly guessing that the recipe that Dumbledore had firmly rejected might involve the use of snake-man's brain.

In the eyes of an excellent potion master, anything in the world can become a potion material.

"We will follow the first recipe," Dumbledore said firmly. His decision was unquestionable. "How many potions can you prepare before Christmas?"

Roger hesitated for a moment, then confessed, "I have already bought all the materials from the British wizarding world. Minister Amelia is willing to help contact other wizarding communities, but they want half of the potion."

"Hmm?" Dumbledore's eyes flashed with confusion. He asked, "What do they need so many antidotes for?"

"Headmaster, besides the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, Muggles in other places also need this potion." Roger sighed secretly. Dumbledore did not mention Galleons at all, obviously wanting him to provide these potions for free.

Considering that he had stolen the sword, he would give this box of potions to him for free. However, he would not continue to be taken advantage of by Dumbledore.

Therefore, Roger contacted the Ministry of Magic in advance while purchasing raw materials. When Minister Amelia learned about the effect of the antidote, she immediately understood its importance.

Her first reaction was to use the Thunderbird's ability to make it rain to spread the antidote to every city and village in Britain in order to protect more Muggles from the threat of the Snakeman virus.

As for America and other places affected by the virus, Amelia could only say sorry in her heart.

(End of this chapter)