A collective gasp swept through the crowd. Reporters, Aurors, and curious wizards all stared in stunned silence at the aftermath. Ten adult wizards lay defeated, sprawled across the banquet hall floor. Alex, untouched and poised, stood victorious. His hair was immaculate, and not a single sign of exhaustion showed on his face.
Whispers of disbelief turned into murmurs of admiration.
“Did he just…?”
“Ten wizards… just like that?”
Originally, many in the crowd had come expecting to see a young wizard humiliated. No one believed Alex could win. But now, their skepticism was shattered, replaced by astonishment.
Alex had silenced every doubter with his overwhelming strength. Any lingering questions about the legitimacy of the Ministry of Magic awarding him the title of wizard Hero were erased. “What? You think those wizards weren’t trying? Didn’t you see the wall behind him smashed into pieces?” one spectator argued loudly.
As the realization sank in, reporters surged forward, surrounding Alex in a frenzy. Even Vivian and the others couldn’t get through the swarm of people vying for his attention.
Alex, raised his wand and cast a circular shield using the Obstacle Charm, creating a barrier that kept the reporters at bay. With a practiced smile, he addressed the crowd without actually answering their barrage of questions.
“Mr. Wilson, how do you feel after winning this duel?”
“When Avery provoked you, what were you thinking? Did you consider backing down?”
“How did you achieve such strength at your age?”
“Do you have any comments about being awarded order of Merlin by the Ministry of Magic?”
“What’s next for you? Do you have a girlfriend? Is it true you’re Muggle-born? Were you nervous just now?”
The questions came like rapid-fire spells, but Alex’s polite smile remained unchanged. He didn’t utter a single word, unwilling to waste his energy on the commotion.
“What’s going on here?” A commanding voice cut through the chaos, silencing the reporters instantly. All heads turned to see Minister Bagnold entering the hall, flanked by Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Moody, and Director Barty Crouch. Beside Crouch was a younger man Alex recognized immediately—Barty Crouch Jr.
Vanessa, busy tending to the fallen wizards, quickly stepped forward to report. In a concise summary, she explained everything that had transpired. “So, you’re saying Avery doubted Alex’s strength and instigated this duel?” Minister Bagnold’s tone was sharp, her frown deepening. “Why didn’t anyone stop it?”
“This is my fault.” Alex stepped out from the crowd, his tone measured and steady. “I initiated the challenge myself. They weren’t just questioning my ability—they were mocking the Ministry, doubting your leadership, and belittling reward.
“I acted out of anger and pride,” Alex continued, “but it was for the Ministry’s honor. I refused to let Vanessa or anyone else mediate. If anyone deserves blame, it’s me.”
Minister Bagnold raised an eyebrow, surprised by Alex’s forthrightness. She glanced at Dumbledore, who gave her a subtle nod, as if to say, ‘Do as you see fit.’ Arthur pushed through the crowd, eager to back Alex’s claim. “Minister, what Alex said is true. Avery provoked him first. We all heard it. It was an unfair challenge—one against ten—but Alex accepted it without hesitation.”
Arthur’s voice grew firm. “They wanted to humiliate him and tarnish the Ministry’s reputation, but Alex turned the tables. He defeated them all with ease, and we all saw it.”
Minister Bagnold turned to the Aurors and other wizards present. “Is this accurate?”
“It’s true,” an Auror confirmed, his disdain for Avery evident. “Alex proved himself fair and square.”
“Absolutely!” chimed in Professor Flitwick, his excitement unmistakable. “That duel was extraordinary!”
Bagnold’s expression softened as she addressed Alex. “You’ve proven your strength, not just in battle, but in character. Well done.” It seemed that choosing Alex had been the right call after all. He was, without a doubt, the Ministry of Magic’s lucky star. Originally, she had planned to confront the families after the banquet, but Alex had resolved the entire issue on his own. She noticed some wavering members of the Wizengamot nodding in agreement now, clearly impressed. Meanwhile, the representatives from families suspected of aiding Death Eaters were silent, their usual excuses rendered useless.
Minister Barnold, who was clearly in a good mood, smiled broadly as Moody strode over to Alex, his limp more pronounced than usual but his face alight with approval. "Good lad! We were only a bit late, and you’ve already gone and taken care of ten of them!" Moody said, his scarred face stretching into what could only be described as a terrifying grin. He leaned closer, his magical eye spinning wildly as he added, "You sneaky devil."
Alex resisted the urge to take a step back. ‘That smile could give anyone nightmares.’ "It wasn’t much," Alex replied, shrugging. "If someone shoves their face at your hand, what choice do you have but to slap it?"
"Exactly!" Moody barked, his tone equal parts admiration and glee. "That slap wasn’t just for you—it was for the Ministry! Those arrogant fools thought they could ignore us. Well, you taught them a lesson, didn’t you?"
"Speaking of late," Alex said, tilting his head, "why were you held up? The reporters got here before you did."
Moody’s expression darkened. "Barty Crouch Jr.," he growled.
"Barty Crouch Jr.?" Alex turned, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the younger Crouch. The young man stood a few feet away, his face shadowed by an unmistakable scowl. Alex noted the unsettling way Crouch licked his lips as if savoring some secret.
"That’s right," Moody confirmed. "We were ready to leave when the brat started arguing with his father. Wasted precious time, he did."
Alex frowned. It didn’t take much to piece things together. Barty Crouch Jr., a known Death Eater, had likely planned this distraction. His squabble with his father had delayed the Ministry, giving Avery and the others the chance to provoke Alex.’ Well, let’s see how confident they are after the trial.’
While Alex mulled over the implications, a familiar low voice interrupted his thoughts. "Congratulations, Alex. As expected, a flawless victory."
Alex turned to see Professor Snape approaching, his black robes billowing as usual. Snape’s tone was measured, each word precise. "And congratulations to you too, Professor," Alex replied with a wry smile. "I take it your bet paid off?"
"Indeed," Snape said, his lips curling slightly. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of parchment and handed it over. "As promised, here’s the counter-curse you requested."
Alex blinked, surprised. "Thank you, Professor. I wasn’t expecting this so soon."
Snape gave a curt nod, his expression as impassive as ever. "Consider it an advance payment for the favor I’ll undoubtedly need from you in the future." Without another word, Snape turned and walked away, leaving Alex staring after him. ‘What could Snape possibly need from me? Whatever it was, it must be important if he was handing over this counter-curse so willingly.’
Before Alex could dwell on it, Professor Flitwick approached, his cheerful demeanor a stark contrast to Snape’s. "Alex! That was an extraordinary duel! Watching it brought back memories of my younger days."
"You’re too kind, Professor," Alex said with a grin. "I couldn’t have done it without your guidance."
"Nonsense!" Flitwick waved off the compliment. "You’ve got natural talent, but it’s your diligence that sets you apart. Seeing you use the Finkel technique so effortlessly—it’s clear you’ve put in the hours. I still remember the first time we met. Your determination was obvious even then, and today’s success is proof of how far you’ve come."