That night, Scott just ate some cookies for dinner.
Rimbaud said, “You should have bought some food in that town.”
Scott shrugged, “I forgot.”
“Where is the thief?” Rimbaud asked, “Aren’t you afraid that he will starve to death?”
Scott said nonchalantly: “The wizard is not that easy to starve to death. If you are worried, you can ask the crow to feed him some bugs.”
After eating the biscuits, he climbed onto the roof of the cabin and opened the water tank.
“Clear water is like a spring.”
A steady stream of water flowed from the tip of the wand in his hand, quickly filling the entire water tank.
“So I can take a nice shower.”
The night passed.
The rising sun gave the forest a warm color. Scott, wearing pajamas, sat on the floor at the door of the cabin and stretched.
“Good morning, Rimbaud.”
He raised his head and smiled at Rimbaud who was flying over.
“I think you need these.”
Rimbaud threw a bunch of wild fruits into his arms and landed on the windowsill.
“Thanks.”
Scott picked up the wild fruit and smelled it, got up and walked into the house, washed the fruit and tasted it.
“It’s a bit sour.” He frowned, “But it’s better than nothing.”
At this time, Rimbaud shouted outside the house, “Scott, a crow is back, and it’s the crow that went to Knockturn Alley!”
Scott put the wild fruits on a plate, walked to the door again and sat down.
A crow flew over, stopped on the floor under the window sill, and chirped at Rambo on the windowsill for a long time.
After Rimbaud called a few times, the crow flew away obediently.
Rimbaud told Scott: “The crows failed to find where Borgin Bock’s home was. He left through the fireplace in the store after the store was closed at night.”
“It’s a bit difficult…” Scott ate wild fruits and leaned against the door frame.
“It’s really difficult. The crows can only monitor him outside the store, including me.” Rimbaud said, “I don’t think it would be a good thing to enter that store rashly.”
Scott nodded in agreement and then said, “It’s not impossible.”
“Do you have any good ideas?” Rimbaud asked curiously.
Scott turned to look at it, “Transfiguration can create this possibility, allowing the poison to fly into his mouth.”
Rimbaud tilted his head, “The poison that killed Travers?”
“Ricin.” Scott stood up again, “Let me try it!”
He couldn’t wait to walk into the cabin and sit at the desk.
Rimbaud followed him into the house and stopped on a lamp to look at him curiously.
Scott put a piece of parchment on the desk, took out the deformed lizard skin bag, and found a sealed potion bottle and a few candies.
“You want to poison with candy?” Rimbaud said, “I don’t like this method.”
Scott didn’t answer.
He carefully peeled the candy open and took off the translucent glutinous rice paper wrapping the candy.
“That’s what I need.” He folded many pieces of glutinous rice paper and placed them neatly. “It melts in your mouth. It’s the perfect coating for poison.”
Rimbaud was stunned, “You are terrible, my friend.”
“Thank you for the compliment, my friend.”
Scott responded casually and put on a pair of medical masks and dragon skin gloves that could isolate poison.
He carefully scraped off the wax sealing the medicine bottle, used the transfiguration technique to turn the stem of the wild fruit into a small spoon, scooped out the white powder in the medicine bottle and poured it on the glutinous rice paper.
There were a dozen folded pieces of sticky rice paper, all of which he poured white powder that was lethal enough.
After that, he sealed the potion bottle again and put it aside.
Next, he folded several pieces of sticky rice paper with unusually gentle movements, turning them into small medicine bags.
“The next step is the key…”
Scott took off his dragonskin gloves, held his wand, and cast his best transformation spell.
A small medical packet on the parchment suddenly turned into a huge flying midge.
Scott clicked the wand in his hand, and a dozen small medicine bags all turned into flying midges.
A dozen extremely large flying midges crawled around on the parchment, but under Scott’s control, they did not fly.
Rimbaud looked down at all this and asked in confusion, “What’s the use of this? Does Mr. Bock like eating bugs like crows?”
“No, it’s not done yet.”
Scott waved the wand in his hand again and said “shrink quickly” a dozen times in succession.
The light of the curse enveloped the flying midge, turning the insect that was originally as big as a fly into a small black dot that was almost invisible to the naked eye.
Rimbaud stretched his neck and stared at the moving little black dots curiously, “Will they really fly to Bock’s mouth automatically?”
“That’s right,” Scott said. “They all like to get into people’s nostrils or mouths, except mine, of course.”
This was the behavioral pattern he had set for these flying midges when he cast the transformation spell.
He said to Rimbaud: “So, you just need to find a time when there are no customers in Bojinbok’s shop, put these little guys into the shop when he is alone, and then wait.”
“No problem.” Rimbaud agreed, “I can do this.”
“So……”
Scott waved his wand, and the parchment immediately turned into a matchbox, containing the extremely tiny flying midges.
“Then I’ll trouble you, my friend. I’ll be here waiting for you to bring you good news.”
He took out another copper nut.
“Also, don’t forget today’s Daily Prophet.”
Rampaud grabbed the matchbox and the copper nut, and said to Scott helplessly: “Although I am usually happy to help you, you are causing too much trouble.”
“Sorry.” Scott smiled and said, “Thank you for your hard work.”
“It’s nothing to me.”
Rampaud grabbed the things and flew out of the window.
Scott stood up and used the movement spell to move the dragon leather gloves and small spoon that had been in contact with the poison outside the house.
“Flames!”
The fiercely burning flames quickly burned the small spoon, but the pair of dragon leather gloves only became brand new in the burning of the flames.
Scott extinguished the flames and put the gloves into a small paper box.
He planned to use it only when he came into contact with poison.
In the following time, he began to write his summer homework while waiting for Rampaud’s return.
When he finished writing a paper assigned by the potion professor, Rampaud came back with the crows that had been sent out for surveillance.
“Is it going well?”
Scott took the Daily Prophet from Rampaud.
“In short, I have completed the commission you gave me!” Rimbaud said proudly, “Boggin and Burke, the famous shop owner in Knockturn Alley, has died. He died on the counter!”
The heavy stone in Scott’s heart finally fell to the ground, revealing a genuine smile.
Rimbaud began to tell Scott what happened with great interest.
