Chapter 396 Black who never bargains

"Harry, go!" His teammates cheered for him, and even Draco nodded in recognition of his performance and affirmed his value as a teammate.

Cedric said jokingly: "Draco, Harry has stolen your limelight."

"You are the chaser, so you should be the one who gets the limelight. And we won, didn't we?" Draco shrugged, acting quite generously. In his heart, he was secretly grateful for Rogge's advice.

If he had not chosen Chaser at that time, but insisted on competing with Harry for the Seeker position, perhaps he is still off the court now, as a spectator or substitute, jealous of Harry's achievements.

However, in today's game. If not for his outstanding performance, he successfully hit the quaffle many times. Even if Harry can catch the Golden Snitch, they can only face failure.

"Hello, Draco, I am the coach of the Irish team. Are you interested in coming to our place for a trial..."

"We in Bulgaria are more sincere. Mr. Draco, we can give you more opportunities to play."

While Harry was still soaring in the air, Draco had already received invitations from many professional teams, including the Canadian team, the champions of the last World Cup.

Maybe the Seeker looks great and is popular with the audience. However, without the Chaser laying a solid foundation, he can only defeat his opponent but lose the victory.

For a mature professional team, they are eager to have Harry Potter who can catch the Golden Snitch, and they also want Draco who can fight head-on. In the adult world, the usual choice is: "I want them all!"

"Principal, I'm going to collect the bill." Roger smiled and took out the voucher. He liked Harry's desperate struggle for victory.

I don't like Quidditch, so I can only do small things reluctantly. For example, help the school participate in the competition, provide some financial support, and then discuss galleons with the goblins.

"Win! We won!" Sirius smiled excitedly, holding onto Roger's arm tightly, "I knew Harry could do it. He is my godson, and I am his godfather!"

"I've known since he was born that he has this talent!"

"Roger, let's get the money quickly." He seemed to be worried that the goblins would run away, pulling Rogge and rushing out of the arena.

"Don't be in such a hurry, right?" Rogge rolled his eyes at him, "You just won a million galleons. Are you so excited?"

"It's not a million, it's tens of millions!" Blake gasped and waved his certificate, "I bet all the family's gold coins and jewelry, a full half a million! The odds are one to twenty. This time I’m rich!!!”

"Half a million?" Rogge shook his head slightly and sighed: "As expected of the old pure-blood Black family, they are so poor that they only have money left."

Although he staked Harry's vault, there really wasn't much money in it. Just like he said at the beginning, it’s a small gamble. As long as you enter a gambling game, you must assume that all the money in your hand belongs to others. If you don't have this mental preparation, don't go in and play.

"Roger, can you give me Vault No. 687? You've already made a lot of money using it." He looked at Rogge with expectant eyes and said after deliberation: "That was left to him by Harry's parents. , it may just be gold coins to you, but it has a special meaning to Harry."

Roger smiled and asked, "Do you want to give it to Harry as a gift?"

"Yeah." Sirius nodded quickly.

Rogge did not refuse, but calmly stretched out three fingers.

"300,000 Galleons?" Blake guessed.

"No, 30%."

"You, you are too dark!" Black's beard trembled with anger. He twisted his nose and said, "The treasury left by James is up to 100,000 Galleons."

"Forget it then." Rogge turned and walked towards the newsstand.

Blake looked at the paper ticket in his hand and quickly grabbed him: "Three makes three percent, isn't it three million galleons!" He shouted through gritted teeth.

Rogge smiled and nodded, thanking: "As expected of the heir to the Black family, rich and generous."

"Actually, my psychological price is one million." His tone revealed cunning and sincerity, "I didn't expect that Mr. Black never bargained. He is worthy of being the son of a big family, but he is different from ordinary wizards like us. .”

Blake's face turned livid instantly. He stared at the boy in front of him with wide eyes, full of anger but nowhere to vent it.

Rogge obviously enjoys this feeling that you can't understand, but you can't do anything about it.

"In the face of such a generous Mr. Black." He cleared his throat and continued: "I am happy to send you some information. Just now, it was in the arena."

Blake's eyes followed his hands to the gradually quiet gymnasium.

"I saw your sister." Rogge used a deep voice to create a mysterious atmosphere.

"Narcissa?" Black sneered, "I must have seen her in Lucius's box. Your kind of information is really valuable." He said sarcastically.

Rogge shook his head slightly, and the ridicule on Blake's lips disappeared instantly. If it's not Narcissa, it can only be...

"It's true that it's in Lucius's box, but..." Rogge deliberately prolonged his voice.

"Bella?" Brak muttered with a heavy face, an ominous premonition welling up in his heart.

"No need to report to the Ministry of Magic." Rogge stopped him and continued: "She has been arrested by the Ministry of Magic. Oh, by the way, there is another piece of information. The wand she used is made of red oak. This The information may be important to you."

"What!" Blake exclaimed. There were only a few wizards in the UK who used red oak wands.

A sudden thought flashed through his mind that Bella might have been holding her own wand. He quickly took out the wand he was currently using - walnut wood, dragon heartstring, 12 inches long, it originally belonged to Bella.

"Why is my wand in her hand? Is it your fault?" he asked Rogge.

"Hey, you can eat whatever you want, but you can't talk nonsense." Rogge stared at him seriously and responded firmly: "Your wand has not been in the Ministry of Magic from the beginning. You can investigate this matter yourself."

"Moreover, Dumbledore seems to be able to track her location. As soon as she used magic, Dumbledore arrived immediately." Rogge suspected that the wand had been tampered with and reminded softly: "Don't you think this is too much? Is it a coincidence?"

Black's face was as gloomy as water. If Rogge's information was true, then his wand had always been in Dumbledore's hand. This thought made him shudder, and his body shivered involuntarily.

"How about it? Is the extra two million Galleons you paid worth it?" Rogge's face was filled with a proud smile. This smile seemed extremely annoying to Black. He really wanted to punch this guy. A hateful smile.

"Cunning Slytherin, I don't believe what you say!" Black turned his head and thought silently.

The two walked into the newsstand and handed their vouchers to the goblin behind the counter. After a series of calculations and transfers, Rogge threw the key to vault 687 to Black.

"Gentlemen, the odds of the World Cup finals are out." The goblin behind the counter rubbed his hands and promoted to them. It held up a board and introduced it matter-of-factly: "A trivial bet will lead to huge returns. It happens once every four years. This opportunity must never come back again!"

"No, I have a small appetite." Rogge shook his head and said goodbye to Black.

Before leaving, he glanced back and saw Blake taking something from the goblin.

"Oh, dear Mr. Black, luck will definitely favor you." The goblin smiled mischievously and put Black's bet into the tray.

Rogge sighed, betting on dogs until the end, he was destined to lose everything. According to the original timeline, the championship will belong to the Irish team. But now that Krum has lost in the second division, it is difficult to say whether he will be stimulated by this and affect the outcome of the World Cup.

It would be really fun if he shows off his power in the final and reverses the game. But for Black, who was betting on the Irish team, it was no fun at all.

"Would you like to try placing a bet?" A tempting idea suddenly appeared in Rogge's mind, as if there was a "Devil Rogge" encouraging him with a pitchfork in his ear: "Just place a bet, it's only ten thousand." Galleons, no big deal.”

Rogge shook his head firmly to dispel the phantom voice in his heart. Knowing that the result is uncertain, but still throwing 10,000 galleons into it, isn't that just rushing to give away money? He is not Harry Potter, and fate will not favor him particularly.

Hogwarts, which won the competition, is holding a banquet in its own camp. Dumbledore even got Scottish bagpipes to play for the wizards dancing around the campfire.

Roger smiled, his hard work for Hogwarts had paid off. If he hadn't been pulling and negotiating with the Quidditch Chairman, how could it have been possible to hold a Quidditch minor league for wizarding schools around the world? How could Hogwarts have the chance to be on the stage of the World Cup and let wizards around the world remember them?

However, Rogge did not reveal all this to the outside world. He picked up a glass of juice and quietly enjoyed the victory and joy that belonged to everyone in Hogwarts.

"20% off, I got 20% off!" The stingy Theodore clutched the handkerchief tightly, and the bill floating in front of his eyes was getting longer.

In other words, he is losing more money due to discounts. There were big beads of sweat on his temples, as if every sip of soda everyone drank was drawing blood from him.

"Can't you just relax and enjoy it?" Rogge tried to explain.

"Enjoy? Relax?" Theodore shook his head resolutely. He carried the shelves and turned to look outside: "A waste of time is a waste of money. My president, this is the World Cup stadium, and there are business opportunities everywhere. Look at it. There are a hundred thousand wizards around.

Now, only one percent of wizards buy my soda. What I want to do now is to make the other ninety-nine percent of wizards fall in love with it as well. "

"But I, I got a 20% discount... I made a lot less money." He covered his heart in pain, tears about to flow out.

"Theodore, I think there must be a goblin from Gringotts living in your soul." Rogge joked.

"I'd rather be a goblin, so I don't have to give Hogwarts a discount!" He walked out with tears in his eyes, "Out of sight, out of mind. Goodbye, Roger, I'm going to make money."

"Theodore, another box of soda." Mrs. Hooch shouted in a cheerful voice. Theodore's legs went weak and he almost fell to the ground.

With Dumbledore and other professors present, the students did not dare to drink in front of them, so multi-flavored soda became everyone's only choice. If you're lucky, you can even taste the liquor.

"You guys, can't you drink less?" Theodore's voice trembled, but he still put down a few boxes of soda before leaving.

It seems that no one is unhappy today except Theodore who is distressed because of the discount.

Roger and his classmates held the trophy and circled around the bonfire. Everyone sang the Hogwarts school song, and all kinds of tone-deaf and off-key voices gathered together to form a unique scenery outside the World Cup stadium.

Many British wizards lost money in the game just now, but they were also infected by the enthusiasm of Hogwarts. People joined in one after another, and the carnival atmosphere reached its peak before the World Cup final.

"Sing, stop laughing..." Little Barty gritted his teeth and said harshly in the corner where no one was paying attention.

He led a large number of Death Eaters into it, preparing to give wizards from all over the world a "surprise" on the final night.

"My lord, Bella has been captured by the Ministry of Magic. Should we retreat?" asked a Death Eater.

"Retreat?" Little Barty shook his head and smiled grimly: "She doesn't know our plan. However, this proves that she is not a traitor."

There were four people following Voldemort, excluding Bella and Wormtail. The traitor who defected to Dumbledore was between him and Buck. Doesn't this mean who betrayed the master?

"Everything is business as usual." Little Barty waved his men to leave and quietly blended into the crowd.

In the evening's exhibition match, Hogwarts entered the field together with the Canadian team, the last cup champions. Both sides behaved in a very gentlemanly manner, and the match ended in a draw.

Rogge yawned boredly and vowed never to watch any friendly matches again. He returned to his tent to recharge his batteries and wait for the finals tomorrow night.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome everyone." Amelia stood on the rostrum. As a minister, she announced in an official tone: "The 422nd Quidditch Century Cup finals will now officially begin!"

Lu Duo, director of the Sports Department, was stunned on the sidelines and complained in his heart: "Minister, this is not in line with the pre-arranged process."

However, Amelia didn't care at all. She pointed her wand into the sky, releasing a brilliant bouquet of fireworks. "Ludo, you will be responsible for hosting the rest of the event." Amelia left in a hurry and couldn't help complaining: "There is no good time to hold the World Cup. It must be held now."

In the stands, the flags of Ireland and Bulgaria intertwined into a sea of ​​green and red. Many British wizards took out magical hair-growing herbs, and their heads were soon covered with lush green hair, like wildly growing weeds filling the smooth Mediterranean Sea.

"Roger, do you want a piece?" Neville asked excitedly. His hair, face, clothes, and even buttons were all green.

"I don't want grassland growing on my head." Rogge shook his head and firmly refused.

Neville didn't understand what Roger meant, so he gave the hairgrass to Susan. She put on green hair, looked at the seat in the first row, and whispered: "It's strange, Aunt Amelia is not here."

There were two rows of gilded and purple chairs, about twenty in number. As is customary, the Minister and key Ministry of Magic officials sit there. However, Amelia was too distracted by Voldemort's return to watch Quidditch.

Also absent were others. For example, Draco's father, Lucius.

However, Fudge, who had left the Ministry of Magic, was very active at this time. As a former minister, he was greeting his colleagues warmly. Sitting next to him is his girlfriend, singer Celina.

The fat-headed and big-eared Fudge is very good at winning people over with his words. Many people in the Ministry of Magic feel that Fudge was more relaxed when he was Minister.

People who don't know the truth may mistakenly think that he is the minister of the British Ministry of Magic. For example, the Bulgarian minister Obalonsk thinks so.