Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

The days in Azkaban are indeed very peaceful, and there is no shortage of food and water-the Ministry of Magic will send people regularly to send supplies, and then the dementors will distribute them to each prisoner every day.

This is also one of the agreements reached with the dementors, because they are also unwilling to see any loss of these limited "rations".

Although, many prisoners went on hunger strike because of unbearable despair.

But at least, for Maca, this means that he can have a lot of time to toss his research.

Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic left all his belongings outside before entering here, which made him unable to conduct a lot of research here...

Recently, Maca has been using previously polished stone chips to cut wood.

On the edge of the cemetery behind the Blackstone Fort, there is a densely growing Scots Pine.Of course, they are very common in the UK and are often used as Christmas trees.

But now, Maca has selected some branches and is constantly cutting out small sticks more than ten inches long, seeming to want to do some manual work.

And just under his ass, a dementor was struggling.The black cloak on its body is too close to the color of the black stone ground on the island, and it is really indistinguishable from a distance.

Suddenly, Maca dropped the stone in his hand and picked up the wooden sticks on the ground to examine it carefully.

It can be noticed that when he took it in his hand, he could vaguely see a small hole in the fracture of the wooden stick, and he seemed to be preparing to stuff something slender in.

"...Okay." Maca nodded, then stood up.

The dementor under him immediately floated up and couldn't wait to flee far away.But it didn't expect it, Maca stretched out his hand, grabbed it by the neck and pulled it back.

The silver-white light on his body instantly brightened, his left hand pinched the Dementor's neck, his right hand suddenly lifted, and it slammed on the back of the Dementor's neck.

He only heard the sound of "click", and the dementor in his hand immediately struggled violently. It waved wildly with its hands and feet, but it couldn't hurt the Maca, which was surrounded by silver-white haze.

Maca didn't hesitate, and his right hand fell together, slashing the dementor's neck continuously.He was like a botched executioner, holding a blunt knife and cutting the victim's neck one by one.

Under normal circumstances, it would be difficult for wizards to injure dementors, let alone kill them.But the Maca at the moment was abruptly able to rely on this mutant guardian god curse to do it.

Finally, with a crisp "click", the neck under the dementor's hood crooked to one side weirdly.

Maca threw the dementor that was no longer moving on the ground, then knelt down, and in a few strokes tore off the dementor's "standard uniform".

It can be seen that although dementors are humanoid magical creatures, the bodies under their cloaks are quite different from humans.

"Although it looks like a human with advanced anorexia... But it is obvious that the outer head of this skeleton is not skin-it is more similar to a kind of cuticle," Maca looked at it over and over again, "Well, There are'ribs' like humans, but only three pairs, and obviously much thicker... there are also'pelvic bones', but the shape is completely different..."

After several days of careful research, Maca held a bundle of small wooden sticks tied up with branches in his left hand, and a suspicious strip that looked like a spine in his right hand, and walked leisurely into the Blackstone Fortress.

The clouds in the sky are very thick, and from time to time there are lightning looming from the clouds. It seems that a heavy rain is coming soon.

After all, working in the rain is not a good choice.

Back to the atrium of Blackrock Fortress,

Soon, as the sound of bone rubbing ceased, his right hand gently pulled out, and a piece of gray flopped, and what looked like an old cotton thread was torn out by him.

Maca held it in front of her and looked at it, but she couldn't see anything just by looking at it.

He drew a frequent straw pole out of the bundle of small wooden sticks and connected the "old cotton thread" to one end of the straw pole.Immediately, he was like threading a needle into a small wooden stick.

Finally, Maca took out two short wooden drills from his pocket, one after the other, blocking the holes in the wooden stick.

"Flocks of birds." "Boom!"

He took the small wooden stick in his hand and waved it lightly, but in exchange for a loud explosion.

He patted his hair with a dark face, lest they keep smoking.Then, he took the "old cotton thread" from the stick again and replaced it with the next stick.

"Fluorescence flickers." "Crack—"

This time it's even better!You don't even need to dismantle it—because the sticks split on their own!

I tried each stick one by one, but none of them succeeded. I have to say that this experiment can be said to be a complete failure.

"Sure enough, the tools are too crude..." Maca shook his head and whispered to himself, "The magic wand crafting process was figured out at Hogwarts before, but the precision requirements are too high..."

Say so, but here, everything has to come.

In the following days, heavy rains continued to fall, and Maca also continued to brave the downpour to gather wood.

This process is extremely boring, it is nothing more than cutting the sticks, putting on the "cotton thread", and then cutting the sticks... and so on.

Finally, one afternoon...

"...Flaming flames!"

As the incantation was read from Maca's mouth, several flames rushed out from the tip of the small wooden stick, and fell on the rocky ground and burned.

"Well... the accuracy is still not enough, and the distance to the target point is a bit deviated..." Maca nodded slightly, "but somehow it was done... ah, ah!"

He couldn't help rubbing his nose vigorously.

In fact, this is not the first magic wand made by Maca.But to be honest, it's really a terrible thing to make with such simple tools.

He could feel that although the core from the Dementor was very smooth to use, there was a clear qualitative bias.I believe that if it is used to cast black magic related to the soul, it will be powerful!

Well, although this "magic wand" with a length of about twelve inches is indeed a bit bad and its control accuracy is relatively low, its power is still very powerful.

"Perhaps, this is the first wand in the world that uses the dementor's spinal cord as the core." Maca thought with interest, playing with the broken wooden stick in his hand.

There is still some time before the next step of the plan begins.After completing his new wand, he didn't even think about polishing it to be more beautiful, but continued to work on other research.

...

Just when the heavy rain in Azkaban had reached a violent thunderstorm, Harry’s side was sunny all day long.

Speaking of which, the Quidditch World Cup is coming soon, and Mrs. Weasley enthusiastically wrote to invite Harry to watch the game.

But everyone knows that even Mr. Weasley, who has always been keen on studying Muggles, only knows a little about Muggle affairs.

From the very beginning, it was a mistake that they chose to use Floo powder to go to Dursley's house-their fireplace was sealed, and there was a fake coal-burning electric stove in front.

At this moment, there was a heavy beating from behind the fireplace.

"What is it?" Harry's Aunt Petunia had retreated to the wall. She stared at the electric stove in horror and asked breathlessly, "What is it, Vernon?"

Their question was soon answered, because the voice of several people came from behind the sealed fireplace.

"Oh! No, Fred—go back, go back, probably made a mistake—tell George to stop—Oh! No, George, there’s no more crowded here, go back and tell Ron—"

"Maybe Harry can hear us? Dad--maybe he can let us out--"

As a result, several fists hit the wall behind the electric stove.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"

The Dursleys, like two angry huskies, violently attacked Harry.

"What's the matter?" Uncle Vernon snarled. "What are they doing?"

"They—they want to come here on Floo fans." Harry couldn't help laughing out loud, and he had to restrain it desperately.

"They can travel on the fire, but you sealed the fireplace...wait a minute!"

He walked to the fireplace and yelled inward across the wall: "Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"

The sound of the fist hitting the wall immediately stopped.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" said a man inside the mantel.

"Mr. Weasley, this is Harry... the fireplace is sealed! You can't get out of here."

"Damn it!" said Mr. Weasley's voice, "why are they sealing off a good fireplace?"

"They got an electric stove." Harry explained.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley's voice became excited, "You mean, it's live? Is there a plug? Great, I must have knowledge...Let me think...Oh, Ron! "

Ron seemed to have arrived, and his voice joined them.

"What are we squeezing here? Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no, Ron," Fred said in an ironic tone, "Nothing happened, this is where we are coming."

"Oh, we are all wasting time here." George said, his voice dull, and he was probably squeezed against the wall.

"Children, children..." Mr. Weasley said in a vague voice, "I'm thinking about what to do... well... that's all there is to it... Harry, stand back!"

Harry quickly retreated to the sofa, but Uncle Vernon stepped forward instead.

"Wait!" he yelled at the fire, "what on earth do you want to—"

"boom!"

The sealed fireplace exploded suddenly, and the electric stove flew across the room. Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron were thrown out along with a large pile of gravel walls.