The days in Azkaban are indeed very peaceful, and there is no shortage of food and water - the Ministry of Magic regularly sends people to deliver supplies, which are then distributed by the Dementors 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 due to unbearable despair.
But at least, for Maka, this means that he can have a lot of time to do his research.
Unfortunately, before coming here, the Ministry of Magic left all his belongings outside, which prevented him from conducting much of his research here...
Recently, Maka has been whittling wood with stone chips that she had previously polished.
At the edge of the cemetery behind the Blackstone Fortress, there is a patch of Scots pine that grows quite densely. Of course, they are very common in the UK and are often used as Christmas trees.
But now, Maka has selected some branches and is constantly cutting out small wooden sticks more than ten inches long, as if she wants to do some handiwork.
And just under his butt, a dementor was struggling. The black cloak on its body is so close to the color of the black stone ground on the island that it is really difficult to distinguish it from a distance.
Suddenly, Maka dropped the stone flakes in her hand, then picked up the wooden sticks on the ground and inspected them carefully.
It can be noticed that when he took it in his hand, he could vaguely see a small hole in the broken end of the wooden stick. He seemed to be preparing to stuff something long and thin into it.
"...Okay." Maka nodded and stood up immediately.
The Dementor under him immediately floated up, eager to escape far away. But it never expected that Maka stretched out her hand, grabbed its neck and pulled it back.
The silver-white light on his body suddenly brightened up. He held the Dementor's neck with his left hand, and raised his right hand suddenly, hitting the back of the Dementor's neck hard.
There was only a "click" sound, and the Dementor in his hand immediately struggled violently. It waved its arms and legs wildly, but it could not hurt Maka at all, who was covered in silvery white mist.
Maka didn't hesitate, her right hand fell together, and kept slashing at the Dementor's neck. He was like a clumsy executioner, cutting the victim's neck with a dull knife.
Under normal circumstances, it would be difficult for wizards to injure the Dementors, let alone kill them. But right now, Maka was able to do it simply by relying on this mutated Patronus Charm.
Finally, with a crisp "click" sound, the neck under the Dementor's hood twisted to the side in a weird way.
Maka threw the motionless Dementor to the ground, then squatted down and tore off the Dementor's "standard uniform" in a few clicks.
It can be seen that although dementors are humanoid magical creatures, their bodies under their cloaks are quite different from humans.
"Although it looks very much like a human with advanced anorexia... But it is obvious that the outside of this skeleton is not skin - it is more similar to a cuticle." Maka turned it over and looked at it carefully, "Well, it is the same as humans. There are also 'ribs', but there are only three pairs, and they are obviously much thicker... There are also 'pelvic bones', but the shape is completely different... "
After several days of careful study, Maka walked leisurely towards the black stone fortress, holding a bundle of small wooden sticks tied with branches in her left hand and a suspicious-looking strip in her right hand that looked like a spine.
The clouds in the sky were thick, and lightning appeared from time to time. It seemed that a heavy rain was coming soon.
After all, working in the rain is not an option.
Returning to the atrium of the Black Stone Fortress, Maka sat on the floor on the stairs, her hands shrouded in light mist moved left and right, twisting the thing that seemed to be a spine with all her strength.
Soon, there was a sound of bone friction, and his right hand gently pulled out, and a piece of dust that looked like an old cotton thread was pulled out.
Maka held it in front of her eyes and looked at it, but she really couldn't tell much just by looking at it.
He took out an ordinary straw pole from the bundle of small wooden sticks and connected the "old cotton thread" to one end of the straw pole. Immediately, he threaded it into the small wooden stick like a needle and thread.
Finally, Maka took out two short wooden drills from her pocket and blocked the holes in the sticks one after another.
"Flying birds." "Bang!"
He took the small wooden stick in his hand and waved it lightly, but there was a loud explosion in exchange.
He patted his hair sullenly to prevent it from continuing to smoke. Then, he took out the "old cotton thread" from the wooden stick and replaced it with the next wooden stick.
"Fluorescent flash." "Click—"
This time it’s even better! There’s no need to even take it apart—the sticks will split on their own!
I tried the wooden sticks one by one, but none of them succeeded. It has to be said that this experiment can be said to be a complete failure.
"Sure enough, the tools are too crude..." Maka shook her head and whispered to herself, "The wand-making process was figured out at Hogwarts before, but the precision required is too high..."
That said, but here, everything has to be made do.
In the following days, heavy rain kept falling, and Maka kept braving the downpour to collect wood.
This process is extremely boring. It is nothing more than whittling wooden sticks, threading "cotton thread", and then whittling wooden sticks... and so on.
Finally, one afternoon...
"… blazing flames!"
At the same time that the mantra was recited from Maka's mouth, several flames rushed out from the front end of the small wooden stick, fell on the rocky ground, and burned on their own.
"Hmm... The accuracy is still not enough, and the distance from the target point is a bit off..." Maka nodded slightly, "But at least it was done... ah, sneeze!"
He couldn't help but rub his nose vigorously.
In fact, this is not the first wand Maka has made. But to be honest, it is really a terrible thing to use such crude tools to make it.
He could feel that although the core of the wand taken from the Dementor was very smooth to use, it obviously had a qualitative bias. I believe that if it is used to cast black magic related to the soul, it will definitely be very powerful!
Well, although the appearance of this "magic wand" about twelve inches in length is indeed a bit poor, and the control accuracy is relatively low, the power it possesses is still very powerful.
"Perhaps this is the first wand in the world that uses the dementor's spinal cord as the core." Maka thought with interest as she played with the broken wooden stick in her hand.
There is still some time before the next step of the plan begins, so there is no need to rush. After completing his new wand, he didn't think about polishing it to make it more beautiful, but continued to work on other research.
…
Just when the heavy rain in Azkaban had developed into a violent thunderstorm, Harry's side had clear skies all day long.
Speaking of which, the Quidditch World Cup was coming soon, and Mrs. Weasley wrote enthusiastically to invite Harry to watch the game.
But everyone knows that even Mr. Weasley, who has always been keen on studying Muggles, only has a partial understanding of various Muggle affairs.
Flooing to the Dursleys' house was a mistake from the start - their fireplace was sealed, with a fake electric stove burning coal in front of it.
At this moment, there was a heavy knocking sound coming from behind the fireplace.
"What is it?" Harry's Aunt Petunia had already retreated to the wall. She stared at the electric stove in fear and asked breathlessly, "What is it, Vernon?"
Their questions were soon answered because the voices of several people came from behind the sealed fireplace.
"Ouch! No, Fred - go back, go back, it's probably a mistake - tell George not to - Ouch! No, George, we can't squeeze in here, go back and tell Ron -"
"Maybe Harry can hear us? Dad—maybe he can let us out—"
Then, several fists hit the wall panel behind the electric stove hard.
"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"
The Dursleys suddenly attacked Harry like two angry huskies.
"What's going on?" Uncle Vernon growled. "What are they doing?"
"They - they tried to Floo their way here." Harry wanted to burst out laughing, but he had to fight hard not to.
"They can travel on fire, it's just that you sealed the hearth... wait!"
He walked to the fireplace and called through the wall, "Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"
The sound of fists hitting the wall immediately stopped.
"Hush!" said a man from inside the mantelpiece.
"Mr. Weasley, this is Harry... the fireplace is sealed! You can't get out of here."
"Damn it!" said Mr. Weasley's voice, "Why did they seal up a good fireplace?"
"They got an electric stove," Harry explained.
"Really?" Mr. Weasley's voice became excited. "You mean, live? Is there a plug? That's great, I must see it... Let me see... Oh, Ron!"
Ron seemed to have arrived, and his voice joined them.
"What are we doing here? What happened?"
"Oh, no, Ron," Fred's voice came out with a sarcastic tone, "Nothing happened, this is exactly where we came from."
"Gee, we're all wasting time here," George said, his voice muffled and he was probably pressed against the wall.
"Children, children..." Mr. Weasley said in a vague voice, "I'm thinking about what to do... Okay... This is the only thing... Harry, stand back!"
Harry quickly retreated to the sofa, but Uncle Vernon took a few steps forward.
"Wait!" he shouted into the fire, "what do you want to do-"
"boom!"
The sealed fireplace suddenly exploded, and the electric stove suddenly flew to the other end of the room. Mr. Weasley, Fred, George and Ron were thrown out along with a large pile of rubble.