A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 532: Rose in the River
"The animals in the book are all like the Scimitar-Horned Snorkeller." Roger leaned lazily on the back of his chair, with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

He raised his hand, tapped his temple with his slender fingers, and added softly: "It's all a fairy tale."

"They're real, aren't they?" Luna's eyes sparkled with innocence as she read eagerly.

"What I mean is..." Roger slowly bit off a piece of biscuit and cruelly exposed her fantasy: "Fairy tales are false, and the records in the book are also false."

A trace of confusion flashed across Luna's face, but she quickly regained her determination: "But Dad told me that the Scimitar-Horned Snorkeller really exists. He never lies."

"Then he must have some poetic qualities to be able to describe a cloud as a weeping lion." There was a hint of envy in Roger's tone. Such a father could indeed cultivate a free and easy Luna.

Luna tilted her head slightly, as if she was imagining the appearance of the cloud in her mind. Her tone was slightly sad, as if she had really seen the sad lion: "It must be very sad, and it must be crying."

"In this season, it will only snow, not rain." Roger muttered rationally, and then said: "I am not denying your idea. I just want to tell you that your father likes to describe his feelings, while I prefer to state the facts."

But Luna refused to give up easily. She pulled out a crumpled newspaper clipping from her pocket, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "But my dad found the horn of the Scimitar-Horned Snorkle. Look, it's written here!"

"If The Quibbler sells better, I can buy it back this year. Then I can see it with my own eyes! Don't worry, I will show it to you."

"Thank you, little witch." Roger teased her half-jokingly, "If the Snorlax really exists, I believe that everything in this book is true, including the White River Monster."

"It's true." Luna was not affected by his teasing at all. Instead, she straightened her back, her eyes firm as if she was defending a sacred truth.

At this moment, she was like the editor-in-chief of "The Quibbler", having immense confidence in things that went against common sense.

Roger smiled and didn't continue to argue with her. This kind of endless debate would only make both of them more angry.

Ever since Luna took the Divination class in her third year, she has become more and more like a witch in her teaching at Trelawney.

Compared to other students who made up and perfunctorily completed their assignments, Luna's homework and class answers always received high praise from Trelawney.

It has to be said that the two of them do have some similar qualities: rich imagination and curiosity, as well as a natural mysterious temperament.

"This book is for you."

"Really!" Luna's eyes lit up instantly, as if two bright stars were lit.

She excitedly hugged Cryptozoology into her arms and said excitedly, "Then I will definitely give you the horn of the Scimitar-Horned Snorkeller as a return gift."

"Don't!" Roger quickly refused, "Don't do this."

Seeing Luna's puzzled look, he had to explain: "I mean, we can't delay your research on the Scimitar-Horned Snorkeller. It is a creature that has never been discovered before. It is very precious and should be left in the hands of professionals."

He glanced at the newspaper clipping again. Although the photo was blurry, he still caught some key details. The horn of the so-called Snorlax was most likely from the Evil Horned Beast. It was a magical material that could explode, so it was not recommended to save it.

"Just give me some Thestral hair." Rejecting Luna's sudden idea, he returned to the clue Ollivander gave: the White River Monster.

"Could it be..." An idea suddenly flashed through Roger's mind. He quickly grabbed the quill and scribbled on the parchment: White River Monster.

This is the specific name for the White River Monster. In a way, it is more unique than a person's name, and there is no risk of duplication or misuse.

A bold but reasonable idea gradually took shape in my mind.

"What if we break these words down into individual letters and then put them back together!" As this idea continued to ferment in his mind, Rogge became more and more convinced that he had touched the edge of the truth.

Voldemort once pulled a similar trick by rearranging his full name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, to form the phrase I am Voldemort.

He suspected that Tiago might have used the same trick back then: cleverly incorporating the key information of the wand core into the name of the White River Monster.

Roger had a new suspicion in his mind: It was possible... that he had made up the story of the river monster, and then used Muggle rumors and the travels of other wizards to spread this fictional creature throughout the world.

"Thiago, what was the original phrase?" He stroked his chin, his eyes fixed on the 17 letters on the paper, "A simple letter reorganization game."

His eyes wandered between the letters, his brain was working rapidly. Suddenly, a word jumped into his mind: rose.

Roger grabbed the rose as if he had found the end of a Gordian knot. The remaining letters seemed to come to life and quickly took their proper positions.

"Rose in the river...wmt..." Roger whispered, each syllable trembling with excitement.

"The River Rose," Roger whispered, staring at the last three extra letters.

This was the best solution he came up with without adding letters, creating new words, and conforming to language habits. It was also his first reaction.

"Use roses to make the wand core?" He bit the end of the quill and leaned back unconsciously.

The front legs of the chair quickly left the ground, and the whole person began to rock rhythmically as if lying in a rocking chair.

"The Quitus family lacks the technology to capture river monsters and use their spines. In other words, if Mr. Ollivander didn't lie to me, then there should be the materials and methods to make it here."

Roger narrowed his eyes slightly, staring at the last three letters, and guessed in a low voice: "They may be abbreviations of certain words. Just like OWLs, which stands for Ordinary Wizarding Level Examination."

WMT… He picked up the quill and rewrote the three letters on the parchment. Then he drew a big circle around them and marked a striking question mark next to them.

"Maybe it's time to think from a different angle." He pondered for a moment, then looked up at the little fortune-teller sitting opposite him, whose thoughts were even more unconventional.

"Luna, what does this letter remind you of?" He wet his fingers with beer and wrote the first letter W on the table.

"M, mint."

"This is W..."

"But from my direction, it's M." Luna shook her head and wrote the same letter with her finger.

Since the two people were sitting opposite each other, the letters they wrote were rotated 180 degrees in each other's eyes. At this time, there were two Ws or two Ms on the table.

"Transformation..." Roger muttered, guessing that the word T represented some kind of transformation. He wanted to hear more of Luna's ideas: "Besides mint, didn't you think of anything else?"

"Yes." Luna closed the book and began to count on her fingers: "Mars, mirror, meerkat, manatee..."

Rogge held his forehead helplessly and sighed deeply. He regretted it, really regretted it. Although he knew that Luna's thinking was very jumpy and not bound by conventions at all, he didn't expect that Luna could talk about so many things that were not related to magic.

"Magic!" Roger suddenly shouted, slapping his thigh in excitement. "Luna, you are such a genius! How could I forget the simplest magic?"

Luna tilted her head and looked at Rogge with a little confusion, but her eyes were shining with joy. Although she didn't know why, she was very happy to help Rogge.

Roger's mind was like a dam releasing a flood, and inspiration surged out, and he spoke endlessly: "If M stands for magic and self, W stands for wand and witchcraft, and T stands for the connection and transformation between the two. Then everything makes sense."

He grabbed a new piece of parchment excitedly, his eyes sparkling with creativity.

Rogge began to write, trying to merge these two seemingly opposite letters together.

He first drew a slightly larger M, using its two vertical sides to form the frame of the entire pattern.

"Look, Luna." Roger explained as he drew, "This M represents the all-encompassing magic, which is the foundation of everything."

Then, he cleverly suspended a broken V along the two diagonal lines of the M. "In this way, the W representing the wand is wrapped in magic." Roger's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

Finally, he transformed the T into a shape that looked like a rose and a magic wand, and inserted it in the middle of the frame: at the break of the V.

Luna looked closely at the strange symbol and softly described what she felt: "A flaming rose blossoming from magic."

"Yes, conversion means energy, whether in potions or alchemy, it can be represented by flames." Roger nodded and wiped off the delicate rose petals, "It should be a ball of fire, but it also comes from the river."

The quill in his hand flew over the parchment, constantly designing and modifying it, so that the whole pattern has both the energy of fire and the calmness of the rose in the river. The two are integrated and balanced at the fulcrum of the rose.

"The fire rose in the water, this may be the secret of Tiago's wand core." As he whispered, the entire draft was covered with cold blue and warm red. A flaming rose shaped like a magic wand was about to bloom on the paper, as if it would bloom with amazing magic at any time.

"Elegant and powerful." Rogge took a step back, admired his work, and nodded with satisfaction.

Compared to the riddle-like letter game, the brightly colored and contrasting pattern in front of you gives people a strong visual impact. It is simple and profound, and you can remember it firmly in your mind with just one glance.

He then took out Tiago's notes that he brought back from San Francisco and tried to find relevant information in them for cross-verification.

"Master or servant? This is a question worth thinking about." Rogge chuckled and thought: The first sentence of Tiago's notes is quite pretentious.

However, his true colors were exposed in the second sentence, "Or like an uncovered dice cup, I know the dealer might cheat, and he also knows that I might know he might cheat. But we are all gambling."

Roger raised his eyebrows and praised his nesting doll-like narration. It can be seen that this guy likes playing cards very much, and it is not in vain that he died at the card table in the end.

However, what followed made Rogge laugh and cry: "Damn it, I lost 300 Galleons to that goblin again today. It must have cheated..."

Then came a string of curses like "son of the beach", filling up half a page. It was like Tiago pouring out the shit in his stomach, smelling terrible.

Rogge resisted the urge to tear up the notebook and turned to the second page with difficulty, hoping that Thiago would not continue to send spam messages.

"The magic wand is much better than the dealer at the card table. It's more like a prostitute in a tavern, wearing an open skirt and deliberately swinging her white flesh in front of you." Tiago's words continued in his vulgar style, "They all want you to put your hand in, and it's best to leave a tip for staying overnight."

"Heidi, this Muggle woman possessed by the devil, squeezed my last gold coin out last night. Damn it, she even refused to accept Sickle and Knut, calling them worthless bottle caps. Oh, stupid woman, she still longs for love."

"I am a wanderer, destined to be unable to take her away with me. Besides, how could I fall in love with a Muggle??? Well, I have to make money to survive. I hate this continent..."

"As for the deeper connection between the wand and the whore, it is that you never know how big her belly is or how flat her ass is until you lift up her huge bustle and untie her tight corset."

"The prostitute in the Fire Snake Tavern is proof of this..."

Rogge couldn't help but let out a long sigh, his expression showing both headache and helplessness, as if he had just swallowed a particularly unpalatable potion.

Luna noticed his abnormality and couldn't help but lean over to find out what was going on: "Rogge, what are you looking at? It looks very interesting."

"Not suitable for children." Roger muttered and pushed her head back.

"Tsk, you're not much older than me." Luna moved her chair and tried to glance at him.

"Little witch, it's rare that you would argue with others. When you are as old as me, I will lend it to you to read." Rogge said casually, and Luna really believed it. "Then let's make a deal. This time next year, you have to lend it to me."

Roger didn't respond, but laughed in his heart: How could you be the same age as me? This time next year, you will still be younger than me.

He quickly skipped over the sections where Tiago gambled, visited prostitutes, and dueled with other wizards.

As he read deeper, Roger gradually realized that Tiago was a complete bastard. He had to flee to the New World because he killed a wizard from a certain family in Europe.

Although he was good at playing cards, he was also extremely unscrupulous. But his luck seemed to be really bad. He lost nine out of ten times at the card table, and sometimes he couldn't even afford to pay for prostitution. As a result, he later mixed into the Muggle society and did some murder, arson, highway robbery, and brewing smuggling.

"Hey, I found a good business, using magic to cheat at the card table." Tiago talked freely, the joy in his heart was like letters jumping randomly, uncontrollable, "Muggles are all idiots, they can't find out my tricks at all. Moreover, they are richer than me, which is unforgivable!"

Roger shook his head. This gambler was hopeless. But where was the magic wand?
"Today, I met a squib from Rome. An arrogant guy who actually wanted to beat me at the poker table. His confidence was an illusion!"

"Okay, I admit that the lucky bitch is on his side, but so what! Not only did the Squib lose his suitcase, his worn felt hat, his coat and boots, but even his family's secret wand-making manual has become mine."

Seeing this, Rogge's originally bored expression finally brightened up a bit, and he thought to himself, "The main part of the show is finally here."

"I should have pulled his pants off, damn Squib, actually cheated a great wizard, Tiago Quintas! He even cursed me to die at the poker table. This kind of humiliation cannot be forgiven!"

A complex emotion flashed in Roger's eyes. Tiago, the dark wizard, really died violently on the card table. He quickly turned to the next page, wanting to know the rest of the story.

(End of this chapter)