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*****
George wasn't soone who particularly enjoyed showing off. He preferred to work quietly, develop in silence—but at this mont, a little theatrics were exactly what he needed to achieve the desired effect.
And indeed, when backed by real power, a bit of flair can earn you a legion of admirers.
After all, in the main world, which superhero doesn't make a flashy entrance? Especially the flamboyant Iron Man.
Even the Avengers have a signature landing style—famously dubbed the "superhero landing"—which is one reason why they have such massive fanbases.
Now, George's dramatic and distinctive appearance truly did capture everyone's attention.
Above the arena, to the left floated Voldemort, shrouded in ominous black mist, radiating evil. On the right hovered a radiant young man with eight wings spread wide, like a divine angel descending from the heavens.
The stark contrast ignited a flicker of hope in the hearts of the hundred thousand wizards present.
Though only a flicker—Voldemort's power earlier had been overwhelmingly terrifying.
"A re underage wizard dares challenge ? You've got guts. I like your boldness, but you're far too overconfident."
The mory Construct George looked at the real George with a face full of mockery.
The real George, however, stood with righteous dignity and retorted:
"Whether I'm overconfident or not—only a battle will tell!"
With a wave of his wand, he shouted:
"Summon Lightning!"
A massive bolt of lightning, thicker than a water tank, tore down from the sky and struck directly at the mory Construct George.
Feigning a surprised expression, the Construct quickly raised a shield using the Iron Armor Spell—a spell that had blocked countless Auror spells before.
But this ti, the magical shield shattered instantly under the force of the lightning, dispersing entirely as it exhausted its energy.
"A wizard so young, yet already stronger than Dumbledore? Tell your na. My Killing Curse doesn't strike naless wizards!"
Disguised as Voldemort, the mory Construct George brandished his wand. With a shout, he fired a burst of deadly green light—the sa curse that had just shattered thousands of spells—straight at the real George.
The wizards below gasped, hearts clenched with tension.
This confrontation, this dialogue—it was ten thousand tis more thrilling and intense than the earlier Quidditch match.
"George, look out!"
Hermione, Harry, George's friends, Professors Snape and McGonagall, and his colleagues couldn't help but shout warnings in alarm.
George's face grew solemn as he raised his wand to et the attack, releasing a blinding bolt of thunderous white lightning that matched the green Killing Curse blow for blow.
"George, Assistant to the Departnt of Magical Law Enforcent—today, I will shatter the darkness with lightning!"
The white lightning and green curse clashed mid-air, like a spear striking a shield, imdiately locking into a deadlock.
The titanic magic, far beyond what normal wizards could comprehend, sent waves of magical energy rippling through the air, distorting the atmosphere itself.
The entire arena shook under the force of the collision.
The spectators' faces were filled with horror—they had never witnessed such overwhelming, apocalyptic magic before.
Boom!
With a deafening explosion, both the green and white lights vanished. A violent shockwave blasted the audience off their feet, slamming them into the arena walls in a tangled heap.
George's real body and the mory Construct both smirked faintly as they were blown back. Each secretly used a Transfiguration spell to turn saliva into blood, spitting it out for dramatic effect.
"No light without darkness. Boy, you'll never awaken those who pretend to sleep.
The Ministry is rotten to the core—they were never my match. And you… you're just a lowly assistant. Even with power, what can you really do?
We'll stop here for today. Let's go!"
The mory Construct purposely shouted "lowly assistant" loud enough for all to hear.
Then it transford into a streak of black light, rising into the iron-sand cloud above, taking with it all the Death Eaters, Dumbledore, and the senior officials of the Ministry—vanishing from sight.
George slowly landed on the comntary platform where Voldemort had stood monts ago and coughed up more blood.
"George, are you alright?"
Rufus, McGonagall, Snape, and others rushed over in concern.
George took a deep breath and wiped the blood from his lips.
"I'm fine. Just a little injured. But Voldemort is definitely hurt too—otherwise, he wouldn't have retreated so easily.
It's just a pity… I couldn't save the Headmaster or the Minister."
"George, you've already done more than enough. If not for you, the Ministry might not even exist anymore. Who knows how many people would've beco his prisoners."
Everyone quickly chid in to comfort him.
Except for Snape, who knew a bit more about George's background, no one could believe how powerful George had beco.
Even the terrifying Voldemort had been forced to retreat.
Gratitude and relief flooded their hearts—they felt as if they had survived a disaster. No one blad George for failing to rescue Dumbledore or Fudge.
"The senior Ministry officials have all been captured. Now we face a Voldemort a hundred tis stronger than the one from over a decade ago.
But Voldemort's words reminded of sothing."
Rufus turned serious as the remaining Ministry leaders and representatives from other magical governnts approached.
"George, you can no longer remain just an assistant. You must take on greater responsibility.
Only your power can stand against Voldemort. You should be our new Minister—to lead us in stopping his dark ambitions."
Rufus paused to think, then looked at George solemnly.
With the Ministry's leadership gone, public faith would collapse. Appointing the man who had just forced Voldemort to retreat was the only way to restore confidence.
And besides George, there truly was no one else who could stand up to Voldemort.
Furthermore, cooperation with other magical governnts would soon be necessary. With George's strength, the British Ministry would hold far more influence at the global table.
As for George's youth and inexperience with leadership?
From his recent actions, Rufus felt that George, though young, was more mature and competent than Fudge, who only knew how to play politics.
And besides—they were still here. They could support George in managing affairs.
"Director… I'm just a junior assistant, and I only joined the Ministry recently. Isn't making Minister a bit… against the rules?
You know why I joined the Ministry—I just love researching magic."
George imdiately put on a troubled expression.
Now was the ti to act humble.
"These are special tis, and special tis call for special asures. I believe Director Scrimgeour is right—we need a Minister like you."
The Deputy Director of the International Magical Cooperation Departnt, Emily, stepped forward in strong support of George.
(End of Chapter)
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