A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 546 This is not a mistake, this is a choice
The return trip was smooth and without any accidents. Roger stretched out his body, lying on the broad back of the Thunderbird, crossing his hands behind his head, letting his thoughts drift.

He took a deep breath, the air was mixed with the salty smell of sea water.

The sea breeze whistled past, carrying tiny snowflakes. Looking up, it looked like countless naughty elves were dancing happily.

In the distance, waves of deep blue sea roared and hit the coast, pushing the frozen muddy yellow ice to the shore.
Dawlish and the Aurors rode on their brooms, sometimes in groups, sometimes in twos and threes, with relaxed smiles on their faces and pleasant conversations coming from time to time.

"Guys, do you realize what we just did?" The brown curly-haired Auror said excitedly, "We went deep into the Dark Lord's territory and saved so many people!"

"That's right, we are heroes!" The companion next to him patted his chest, his face full of pride.

"This time, not only did they destroy the Snake Man virus laboratory, but they also escaped unscathed without a single person getting hurt. This is a textbook-level operation!"

"Ahem..." Dawlish suddenly cleared his throat and signaled with his eyes that the Aurors should stop mentioning "no one was injured".

Although the mission was completed perfectly, they all knew that for the safety of everyone, Rogge had to make a difficult decision to throw the survivor out of the basket.

They knew deep down that this was the most direct and effective option under the circumstances.

"I'll treat everyone to a drink tonight..." He thought that today was Christmas, so he quickly changed his words: "On the last day of the holiday, I'll treat everyone to a drink at the Leaky Cauldron, how about that?"

"Great!"

"Long live the Director!"

"Dawlish, you are simply our Santa Claus!"

Cheers suddenly broke out in the crowd, and the joyful emotions spread in the air like ripples.

Dawlish pressed his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet. He deliberately lowered his voice and said seriously, "Don't be too happy too soon. When we get to London, you have to help me catch that old miser Thompson and bring him back to the office."

"Humph, we need to get this miser to give us another year-end bonus." His voice suddenly rose and he let out a hearty laugh.

"real?!"

"Director, let me kiss you!" Suddenly, a short-haired Auror rushed over. He laughed, hugged Dawlish's neck, and slapped him loudly on the cheek.

Then, he winked coquettishly and asked teasingly, "Do you want to clean yourself up and wait for you tonight?"

"I'm a Londoner, but I don't follow the locals' ways." Dawlish's face flushed red and he pushed the overly enthusiastic team member away. "I'm a man, a serious and conservative man."

"Did you hear that? Our boss wants a group of conservative men to accompany him."

"I'm conservative!"

"Count me in."

"Director, you know me well. I am the most conservative..."

The Aurors were like a group of good friends, making a commotion and making a lot of noise.

In the distance, the coastline gradually became clear, and the blue-green sea sparkled in the sun, adding a touch of brightness to the joyful atmosphere.

Dawlish struggled to escape from the group of players who were playing tricks on him. He steered the broom lightly and flew towards Roger who was lying alone on the back of the Thunderbird.

As he got closer, his expression turned serious.

"Really not doing anything?" He pondered for a moment, his face covered with a layer of haze: "I can help you get them..."

Dawlish did not finish his words, but his fierce eyes were fixed on the survivor in the basket, and the meaning was self-evident.

"Don't be so bitter and resentful. You're making me look like a criminal." Roger was wrapped in a cashmere blanket, his tone relaxed and natural: "Even if you use the Obliviate spell to erase their memories, this matter will be reported to the Ministry of Magic sooner or later."

"Rather than being questioned by the Wizengamot as a criminal then, it is better to wait for them to question me now."

"The most important thing is that I don't think I did anything wrong." Rogge's tone was firm.

He pulled out his wand and waved it gently. There was a flash of soft light and the spell on Tonks disappeared instantly.

Tonks stared at him, her eyes burning with anger: "Rogge, you'll go to jail, you murderer!"

She gritted her teeth and uttered the harsh words, then grabbed the broom and jumped out of the hanging basket.

"Hey, wait a minute..." Dawlish shouted, but it was too late. Tonks had already sped away on her broom, and soon became a tiny dot in the sky.

He put down his arms helplessly and gave Roger a bitter smile, "I'm the director of the Law Enforcement Department. Her report will come to me first. If you let her go now, I can't help you suppress it."

Roger seemed unusually calm, even with a hint of a smile on his face: "Thank you."

"Stop frowning. It's Christmas. Who cares about her report?"

"That's right." Dawlish nodded thoughtfully.

He glanced down inadvertently and suddenly noticed some black spots on the ground. They were the crowd coming to greet them.

"It looks like this trip will be in vain, Tonks. The Minister and the rest of the Ministry are down there, ready to greet us."

He took a long breath and said softly, "Rogge, I stand by you no matter what. I support your decision and action at that time."

"Anyway, we saved a lot of people. That's what matters!"

As the distance gradually decreased, the scene on the ground became clearer and clearer. Roger and Dawlish saw Minister of Magic Amelia leading a group of wizards, waiting there in the biting cold wind.

Behind them, several red double-decker buses and some quaint horse-drawn carriages were neatly lined up, apparently prepared to transport the rescued survivors.

Bellingrum quietly waved his wand while no one was paying attention. A faint light flashed, removing the sleeping spell from the Muggles.

Although he is the noble Goblin King, he still needs to remain cautious and humble in front of the Ministry of Magic.

If the wizards below discovered that he used a wand and cast spells on Muggles, he would be judged and punished mercilessly.

Bellinrum sighed softly, with infinite melancholy in his heart. Goblins were deprived of the right to use magic wands, and this unequal treatment was like a thorn that pierced deeply into the hearts of every goblin.

However, when he thought of the promise Rogge made to them, a glimmer of hope appeared in Bellinrum's eyes again.

As they approached, a group of reporters who had been waiting for a long time came like a tide. Surprisingly, the one running in the front was not a reporter from the British magic world, but a Hong Kong reporter from "Chinese Magic".

They were holding cameras and shooting wildly at the magic hot air balloon and the Auror team hovering overhead.

"Look there! Is that a Thunderbird? It sure is!"

"Minister Amelia, it is surprising that you have arranged for magical creatures to participate in this rescue operation. May I ask if this means that the Ministry of Magic is considering incorporating magical creatures into the law enforcement system of the Department of Law Enforcement?"

"Are you planning reforms to abolish the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?"

Faced with the sudden question, Amelia remained calm on the surface, but her heart was full of doubts.

She looked up at the circling Thunderbird, a trace of confusion flashing in her eyes. There was no mention of Thunderbird in the action plan submitted by Dawlish. Could something have happened?
However, as an experienced politician, Amelia knows how to deal with reporters who always want to make a big news.

She smiled slightly, signaling them to stay calm. "The rescue operation arranged by the Ministry of Magic is a top-secret plan. This is another heavy blow to the Dark Lord and his forces after the counterattack of the wizarding world. We will announce the specific details to the public at the appropriate time."

However, the reporters were not satisfied with this ambiguous answer. They rushed to ask more questions:

"Minister, what role did the Thunderbirds play in this operation?"

"Is the flying tool in the sky a secret weapon of the Ministry of Magic? Will it be promoted to the wizarding world in the future?"

……

Faced with the overwhelming questions, Amelia quickly winked at the assistants around her. Percy and others immediately understood and stepped forward to separate the reporters.

At the same time, Roger sat cross-legged, looking down at the lively scene below. With a faint smile on his face, he said to Dawlish, "It's really lively down there. You guys go ahead, I won't go."

"This is a chance to become famous." Dalish reminded anxiously, "With the help of public opinion, your crime..."

"I said, I don't think I did anything wrong." Rogge interrupted him in a slightly tough tone, his eyes were very firm, "As for the sin... it's just the right and wrong in the eyes of ordinary wizards. Letting him do a free fall was my choice at the time."

“If I had to do it again, I would still do it.”

"Go ahead and enjoy your grand ceremony." Rogge's expression eased a little, and he gave Dawlish a gentle smile. "Your teammates are waiting for you."

"Rogge..." Dalish wanted to say something, but before he could finish his words, the thunderbird flapped its huge wings impatiently and pushed him away.

The Thunderbird raised its head and uttered a long and loud cry, as if announcing its arrival to the entire British wizarding world. Then, it suddenly spread its wings and instantly flew into the sky with Roger.

Dawlish stared blankly at the receding black shadow and couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

Leaving means giving up the honor and medals that are within reach.

As the initiator and main executor of the rescue operation, Rogge was fully qualified to receive the First Class Medal of the Order of Merlin, appear on the front pages of major magic newspapers and magazines, win praise from the entire magic world, and receive a tsunami of thank-you letters.

However, Rogge chose to leave without hesitation, giving up the flowers and applause.

Dawlish hesitated, a struggle flashed in his eyes. In the end, he resolutely chose to accept the honor. Although he knew that becoming famous meant being targeted by the Dark Lord, and he might even lose his life.

However, as the Director of the Department of Law Enforcement, Dawlish already knew the consequences of fighting Voldemort. Moreover, he was going to become the Minister of Magic, so how could he stand still because of the threat of Voldemort?

"Gentlemen, please keep your fighting appearance," he said in a deep voice, "Do not fix your hair or use Transfiguration to change your clothes."

The Aurors looked at each other, not understanding Dawlish's intention. When facing reporters' interviews, shouldn't he greet them with the most positive and clean image?

"We are Aurors, and we have just been through a tough battle," Dawlish continued, his voice gradually rising: "Our hair was soaked by the heavy rain, our clothes were burned by the explosion, and our brooms were destroyed by the impact.

However, we are still full of fighting spirit! For the peace of the wizarding world, we are ready to fight at any time!"

His words were sonorous and powerful, like a shot of adrenaline injected into the hearts of every Auror. The team members' eyes were burning with fire, and they followed Dawlish's instructions to make themselves look more embarrassed, but also brave and fearless.

Bellingrum, who was standing nearby, witnessed all of this. He glanced down at the neat suit he had just put on, and then at the Aurors' deliberately tattered clothes, and couldn't help but cursed: "Despicable wizards are indeed the most cunning race in the world."

He wanted to dress himself up again according to Dawlish's instructions, but Roger's words rang in his ears: "Bellinrum, if the goblin wants to use the wand again, it must be recognized by the magic world."

"You must reduce your threat, such as magical abilities. You must also highlight the irreplaceable characteristics of fairies, such as manufacturing, financial management, and mining."

"That's right, I'm not a fighter." Bellinrum said to himself, re-attaching the cufflinks of his exquisite suit: "Fairies only love Galleons, not fighting."

Dawlish led the Aurors to form a protective flying goose formation, escorting the hot air balloon to slowly descend. Before they completely stepped off the broom, the reporters surrounded them.

The scene immediately fell into chaos, with some reporters taking pictures of the survivors and others surrounding the Aurors and asking them questions.

However, when they saw Bellinrum, wearing a golden crown and dressed in fine clothes, gracefully descending from the basket, the wizards' curiosity was instantly aroused.

"Why are there goblins?"

"He doesn't look like a survivor either?"

"Humph, he's obviously a coward. Look at his appearance, it's obvious that he has never fought before."

Bellinrum laughed secretly in his heart, "Foolish wizard, he really found evidence according to his expectations."

Dawlish noticed this, realizing that Bellingrum might be distracting the media from the Auror's heroic deeds.

He quickly adjusted his strategy, deciding to use this opportunity to demonstrate the unity and cooperation between the Ministry of Magic and other magical beings (under his leadership).

Dawlish said loudly: "Let me introduce this to you all. This is His Majesty the Elf King Bellinrum. He has given us great help in this operation. This fully proves that unity can defeat darkness."

"We goblins are willing to contribute our strength to the peace of the wizarding world..." Bellinrum immediately raised his voice even louder and snatched the microphone from the reporters.

In the live broadcast of the Dragon Crystal Mirror, the staff of the Ministry of Magic were methodically placing the survivors on stretchers and then carefully carrying them to the buses and carriages waiting nearby.

The survivors will be sent to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Sorrow for further examination and treatment.

Jessica sat at the dining table, staring intently at the Aurors who were talking in the magic mirror. She said softly, "Rog, you are right not to accept the interview. From what I know about the Dark Lord, he will definitely retaliate tenfold or a hundredfold if you humiliate him like this."

Roger had just come out of the bathroom and threw the towel he used to wipe his head to the house elf to clean up. He glanced at Dawlish who was being interviewed and said, "Mom, I think they are fine for now."

Jessica turned her head and looked at her son with confusion and curiosity in her eyes, as if waiting for his further explanation.

"Death Eaters used to take no prisoners." He stabbed his fork into the bread, lying comfortably on the sofa, watching and eating.

Jessica nodded. As a former Death Eater, she knew this well.

During the First War a dozen years ago, the Death Eaters would kill entire families of their enemies, just as they did to the McKinnons.

They would then leave the Dark Mark at the scene, spreading fear to the entire wizarding world with death and blood.

"Could it be..." Jessica murmured to herself, her brain working rapidly, trying to find the reason behind it.

"No, this is not in line with the Dark Lord's usual style."

"Did someone keep them here on purpose?" Jessica's eyes suddenly lit up, as if she had grasped some important clue. "This is not the Dark Lord's order. Someone among the Death Eaters acted on their own initiative..."

She couldn't help but gasp: "Oh my god, they are so brave."

Roger nodded in agreement and talked about what he had seen and heard earlier: "When I went there this time, I found that this group of survivors were used as experimental subjects. Look, those Muggles have never come into contact with the snake repellent potion. From the perspective of the experiment, they are very pure samples."

"However, the virus Bella is studying is not targeted at Muggles."

"Bellatrix?" Jessica frowned slightly, looking a little confused. "Her spell skills are indeed good, but her potions have always been poor. I don't think she has the ability to make the snake-man virus."

"Mom is amazing. She can even guess this." Roger chewed the bread and mumbled indistinctly, "Her target is a wizard. The real virus researcher is the potion professor of Ilvermorny."

"Let's talk after we finish eating." Jessica rolled her eyes at her son and pushed a glass of iced cola in front of him.

The fireplace in the living room was burning brightly, and snowflakes were falling outside the French windows. Winter, a dry season, was the best season for iced cola and ice cream.

Roger swallowed the bread in his mouth, took a sip of ice cola and cleared his throat: "The potion professor has already developed a second-generation virus, but the virus Bella needs is one that can distinguish between pure blood and non-pure blood."

He shrugged and gave a helpless smile: "Although, this can't be done."

"The structure of the virus is very simple. You can use magic to keep it replicating stably, but you can't record the information of 28 holy pure-blood families at the same time."

"What would happen if it was really burned?" Jessica asked thoughtfully, as if she wanted to know more.

"Even if it is successfully recorded, the first-generation virus can only distinguish pure-bloods from other wizards for a short time. However, 1 second, 1 hour or 1 day..." Roger shook his head, "After a certain point in time, it will lose the old information and evolve into a new, uncontrollable virus."

He paused, then continued, "Similar to the dragon pox virus, it kills indiscriminately. It may be more toxic, or it may be less toxic. But in any case, it is no longer what it used to be."

A trace of regret flashed across Jessica's eyes, but she quickly put aside a certain thought deep in her heart.

She looked at the picture in the magic mirror and couldn't help falling into deep thought, reviewing the changes in the power of pure-blood wizards over the years.

Today, the influence of pure-blood wizards is still shrinking, but thanks to her efforts, this process has been slowed down a lot.

Through her experiences in different wizarding circles, Jessica gradually understood that the real reason for the decline of pure-bloods was that there were too few of them. Even if the Ministry of Magic opened all positions to pure-blood wizards, they would not be able to fill these vacancies.

"The war has caused too much damage to pure-blood families." Jessica whispered to herself, with a trace of regret in her eyes, "Especially under the deception of that half-blood bastard, some pure-blood families are almost extinct."

(End of this chapter)