If Roger was able to cover up Dumbledore by casting spells outside the school, he exposed the existence of magic in front of ordinary people. It wouldn't be long before someone from the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Accidents and Disasters (including the Accidental Incident Reversal Team, the Amnestics Command and the Muggle Mediation Committee) arrived to review and erase the memories of ordinary people.

At that time, not only will Roger be exposed, but the rescued Bellatrix will be even more inexplicable, and the prisoners of Azkaban prison are with him... I guess I can understand the connection between someone being 'jailed' and him by thinking about it.

Roger regretted a little, why didn't he get a little polyjuice potion when he bought the Elixir of Joy? This kind of good time is a perfect opportunity for Dumbledore to cover up his record of casting spells outside of school.

After all, the wand that Roger was holding in his hand was not his own, and the Ministry of Magic would inevitably not be able to discover his true identity after changing his face.

Of course, the premise of all this is that they are still in England...

Roger didn't take off his gas mask, but grabbed the two men by the collar with one hand, and Pandora with the other, and dragged them out of the dark alley.

However, there is still an asphalt road underfoot, although there are some potholes that have not been repaired, so it can be ruled out that this is not a remote and almost uninhabited mountain village.

There were no pedestrians left in the dark streets, and there were no shop signs that should have been everywhere that flashed at night, and it seemed that the whole area was deserted for a long time.

After using the compass, Roger kept walking in the direction of Diagon Alley.

Anyway, he hasn't figured out exactly where this place is, so he has to go in one direction, so it's better to choose a reliable place. After all, the boy still had some spare Floo powder in his suitcase in case of an emergency, but unfortunately the fireplace without the Floo network was not available.

He can't do phantom transformation, and he doesn't dare to use the door key of the top three cup if something goes wrong, and if something goes wrong, maybe it's not wearing the wrong place, but maybe tearing people apart. Lupin doesn't care, but Bellatrix can't die for the time being, otherwise there wouldn't be so much trouble.

Roger, who was preparing a path to the dark, began to turn a corner after a few minutes, because on the right he saw the light. About a few blocks away, there are street lights on the streets that are unblocked, and there are a few houses on the second floor that are not lights out.

There was also a 24-hour gas station across the road from the distance, and the bright lights made Roger's eyes light up.

Roughly dragging the two burdens, the boy walked straight between the overgrown and unrepaired houses, and walked briskly towards the gas station.

The boss inside was an elderly white man, staring intently at the TV hanging on the wall watching the ball game, and he didn't even want to take a look when he heard the sound of the door being pushed.

Throwing down the unconscious two people with a "bang", Roger walked directly into the shelves in the supermarket, hugged a lot of snacks and drinks and threw them on the cash register, he hadn't eaten all day but was hungry enough.

Hearing that someone came over to settle the bill, the boss turned upright, but his head was still reluctantly turned to the side to look at the TV, and his palm was busy touching the things to be settled on the cash register. It wasn't until a player who didn't know which team shot the ball into the goal that he laughed and pulled his eyes out of the game, and said with a smile on his lips: "Haha... Did you see that? Colombia players just kicked the ball into their own goal... door..."

This man, who was a little old and had the honor of being called an old man, was halfway through his words, like a crowing rooster cup man choking his neck, and the second half of the sentence was stuck in his throat and gurgling.

It was midnight, and a diminutive man with a gas mask on his head was standing in front of him, staring at him, with the pungent smell of gunpowder smoke and the signs of some unknown liquid drying up.

The man also had an ornate suitcase at his feet, and two lifeless 'corpses' lying horizontally behind him. One of them, male and female, was emaciated like a skeleton, while the other was covered in wounds, his right arm as if it had been brutally skinned, and white bones exposed.

At first glance, it is reminiscent of the appearance of being imprisoned by some psychopath and tortured by some psychopath in his lifetime.

In an instant, the supermarket owner made up a murderous psychopath in his mind, imprisoned and tortured two poor people in order to seize the treasure, and then killed them after getting what he wanted from them.

If you go across the road to the Buena Vista neighborhood, which is the most famous ghost town and garbage dump in the area, there is no one else but a blind veteran living there... It's definitely a great place to dismember a corpse.

The supermarket owner stiffened his body and took half a step back, and his hands that had been placed on the cash register were quietly placed under the counter, ready to find the single-shot shotgun hanging underneath.

Roger didn't notice the old man's demeanor, because when he heard the phrase 'Colombia kicked the ball into his own goal', he suddenly felt very familiar, and he turned his head to see the TV game commentator frantically introducing the information of this self-posing own goal.

"Escobarine?" the boy muttered the name, and then slapped his head suddenly: "Hey! I remember, this is the biggest tragedy of the '94 World Cup... This player was killed when he returned home..."

The old man suddenly heard the voice of this 'perverted murderer' in front of him, who seemed to be not very old, and after hesitating for a moment, he heard the second half of the terrifying proclamation, and immediately rejected his previous childish hesitation.

Probably only such a man who plays with human life in the midst of applause would utter such a vicious speculation. The old man thought to himself, and immediately clicked the shotgun and aimed it at Roger's head.

Roger, who had played with guns for several years, was very familiar with the sound of bullets being loaded, and his brow furrowed behind the mask, and he asked in wonder, "What are you doing? Could it be that the person who kicked into your goal is your idol? I advise you to change it..."

"Get out of my shop!" you madman!" the old man with a gun in his hand shouted confidently, "or I'll break your head!"

"It's immoral for you to discriminate against a madman like that," Roger said, wrapping his arms around him.