The days in Azkaban were indeed very peaceful, and there was no shortage of food and water - the Ministry of Magic would send supplies on a regular basis, which would then be distributed by the Dementors and distributed to every prisoner every day.

This was also one of the agreements made with the Dementors, as they were equally reluctant to see any loss of these limited "rations".

Although, many prisoners went on hunger strike because of an unbearable sense of hopelessness.

But at least, for Maca, it meant that he could have a lot of time to toss around with his research.

Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic had left all of his belongings out before coming here, making it impossible for him to conduct a lot of research here......

Lately, Maca has been sharpening wood from previously polished stone chips.

At the edge of the cemetery behind the Blackstone Fort, there is a patch of Scots pine that grows quite densely. Of course, they are common in the UK and are often used as Christmas trees.

But now, Maca has picked some branches and is constantly cutting out small sticks more than ten inches long, as if she wants to do some manual work.

And just below his ass, a Dementor was struggling. The black cloak on its body was so close to the color of the black stone floor on the island that it was really indistinguishable from a distance.

Suddenly, Maca dropped the stone chips in her hand and picked up the sticks on the ground and examined them carefully.

It can be noticed that when he took it in his hand, he could vaguely see a small hole in the broken part of the stick, as if he was about to stuff something slender into it.

“…… Come on. Maca nodded, and then stood up.

The Dementors beneath him immediately floated up, eager to flee into the distance. But it didn't expect that Maca reached out and grabbed it by the neck and pulled it back.

The silvery-white light on his body instantly brightened, and his left hand pinched the Dementor's neck, and his right hand suddenly lifted up, slamming down on the back of the Dementor's neck.

Hearing only a "click", the Dementor in his hand immediately struggled violently, its hands and feet waving wildly, but it could not hurt Maca, who was covered in a silvery white mist.

Maca didn't hesitate, her right hand falling together, slashing at the Dementor's neck. He was like a clumsy executioner, slicing the victim's neck with a blunt knife one by one.

Under normal circumstances, it would be difficult for wizards to injure Dementors, let alone kill them. But at the moment, Maca has done it by relying on this mutated Patronus Charm.

Finally, with a crisp "click", the Dementor's neck under the hood was strangely crooked to the side.

Maca threw the immobile Dementor to the ground, then crouched down and ripped off the Dementor's "standard uniform" in a few clicks.

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

"Although it looks a lot like a human with anorexia to the end of its life...... But obviously, the skeleton wasn't skin—it was more akin to a kind of cuticle," Maca looked at it closely, flipping it over and over, "Well, it has 'ribs' like a human, but there are only three pairs, and it's obviously much thicker...... There is also a 'pelvic bone', but the shape is completely different......"

After several days of careful study, Maca walked leisurely towards the Blackstone Fortress, carrying a bundle of small sticks tied with branches in her left hand and a suspicious strip that looked like a spine in her right hand.

The clouds in the sky were thick, and from time to time lightning loomed through the clouds, and it seemed that a rainstorm was coming soon.

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

Back in the atrium of the Blackstone Fortress, Maca sat on the stairs, her hands swirling with light and mist to open her bow from side to side, and she twisted the suspicious spine with all her might.

Soon, as the sound of bone grinding stopped, his right hand gently pulled out, and a gray flutter, what looked like an old cotton thread, was pulled out by him.

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

He took out a straw pole from the bundle of small sticks, and attached the "old cotton thread" to one end of the straw pole. Immediately, as if he were threading a needle, he threaded it into the little stick.

Finally, Maca took out two short wooden drills from her pocket and blocked the holes in the sticks one after the other.

"A flock of birds." "Bang!"

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

He patted his hair with a dark face so that they would not keep emitting black smoke. Then he took the "old cotton thread" out of the stick again and replaced it with the next stick.

"Fluorescent flickering." "Click-"

This time it's even better! You don't even have to dismantle it - because the stick will crack on its own!

One by one, the sticks were tried, but none of them succeeded, and it has to be said that this experiment can be said to be a complete failure.

"Sure enough, the tools are too rudimentary......" Marka shook her head and whispered to herself, "The wand-making process was worked out at Hogwarts before, but the precision required is too high......"

That being said, but here, everything has to come to an end.

In the days that followed, torrential rain continued to fall, and Maca braved the pouring rain to collect wood.

The process is unusually boring, it is nothing more than cutting sticks, threading "cotton threads", and then cutting sticks...... And so on and so forth.

Finally, one afternoon......

“…… Flames! ”

As the incantation came out of Maca's mouth, several flames burst out from the tip of the small stick, falling on the rocky ground and burning themselves.

"Hmm...... The accuracy is still not enough, and it is a little off the target point......" Maca nodded slightly, "But it's a good ...... Ahh ”

He rubbed his nose vigorously.

In fact, this wasn't the first wand Maca had ever made. But to be honest, it's a really bad thing to use such a rudimentary tool to make it.

He could feel that the core of the wand taken from the Dementors, while smooth to use, was distinctly deviant. I believe that if it is used to cast the dark magic related to the soul, it must be powerful!

Well, although this "wand" with a length of about twelve inches does look a little bad and has relatively low control accuracy, it still has a lot of power on its own.

"Hopefully, this is the first wand in the world to use a Dementor's posterior cord as the core of the wand." Maca thought with interest as she played with the broken stick in her hand.

There is still some time before the next step of the plan begins, and there is no urgency. After finishing his new wand, he didn't think about polishing it more beautifully, but continued to work on other research.

……

While the heavy rain in Azkaban had developed into a violent thunderstorm, Harry's side was clear all day.

Speaking of which, the Quidditch World Cup was just around the corner, and Mrs. Weasley enthusiastically wrote a letter inviting Harry to watch the game with her.

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

From the beginning, it was a mistake for them to choose to use Floo powder to go to the Dursleys - their fireplace was sealed and there was a fake coal-burning stove in front of it.

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

"What's that?" Harry's Aunt Petunia had retreated to the wall, glaring at the stove in fear and asking breathlessly, "What's that, Vernon?" ”

Their questions were soon answered, as the voices of several people could be heard from behind the sealed fireplace.

"Alas! No, Fred—go back, go back, probably mistakenly—tell George not to—alas! No, George, I can't squeeze in here, go back and tell Ron—"

"Maybe Harry can hear us? Dad—maybe he'll let us out—"

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

"Harry? Harry, can you hear me? ”

Like two angry huskies, the Dursleys attacked Harry.

"What's going on?" Uncle Vernon snarled and asked, "What are they doing?" ”

"They- they want to get here on Floo powder." Harry couldn't help but laugh out loud, he had to restrain himself desperately.

"They can travel on the fire, it's just that you seal the fireplace...... Wait a minute! ”

He walked over to the fireplace and shouted through the wall, "Mr. Weasley?" Can you hear me? ”

The sound of fists slamming against the walls immediately stopped.

"Shh——!h There was a man inside the mantelpiece who said.

"Mr. Weasley, I'm Harry...... The fireplace is sealed! You can't get out of here. ”

"Damn it!" Mr. Weasley's voice said, "Why are they going to seal up the good fireplace?" ”

"They got an electric stove." Harry explained.

"Really?" Mr. Weasley's voice stirred up, "You mean, electrified?" Is there a plug? It's great, I'm going to have to see it...... Let me think...... Alas, Ron! ”

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

"What are we huddled here for? Is something wrong? ”

"Oh, no, Ron," Fred's voice came out in a sarcastic tone, "nothing happens, this is where we're going." ”

"Oops, we're all wasting time here." George said that his voice was muffled, and that he was probably pressed against the wall.

"Kids, kids......" Mr. Weasley's muffled voice said, "I'm thinking about what to do...... All right...... That's all there is to it...... Harry, stand back! ”

Harry hurriedly stepped back to the couch, and Uncle Vernon took a few steps forward.

"Wait!" He shouted into the fire, "What the hell are you trying to do—"

"Boom!"

The sealed fireplace exploded, and the electric stove flew to the other end of the room, and Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron were thrown out along with a large pile of rubble walls.