Support me and be 30 chapters ahead of webnovel:
patreon.com/Draco_
*****
"Don't worry—that's my department!" Amy pounded her chest confidently. Without George's intervention, she'd still be running a crash-course magic school in Diagon Alley, drowning her sorrows in drink.
"Just say the word, and I'll handle it," she continued. After all, Dumbledore himself was writing George a recommendation—his only obstacle was his age, not his talent.
George produced a small chest from his Changing Room space. "Here—use this for… whatever needs doing." Opening it, Amy's eyes widened at the gleaming Galleons inside: a full five thousand.
"Amy, you're overthinking. I don't plan to start at the bottom," George explained. "I need a position with real responsibility—access to elite wizards and Ministry magics. A little extra… encouragement never hurts. Five thousand Galleons is pocket change for me."
He wasn't interested in menial work. His goal was to leverage his Ministry post to network with top mages and unlock advanced alchemical and magical research. Naturally, that required status—and a department he actually cared about.
Behind his inheritance from that dark wizard, George's own enterprises had generated vast wealth. As a Magizoologist able to communicate with creatures and singlehandedly subdue a Fire Dragon, he could procure rare materials at will. A single pint of eight-eyed spider venom fetched a hundred Galleons. He maintained a respectful "rapport" with a Forbidden Forest colony, returning regularly with barrels of venom. Once he mastered long-distance Apparition, he even sold his haul in foreign magic markets to avoid saturating prices—and repeated the cycle effortlessly.
Other elusive magical ingredients he'd similarly harvested. Excluding real estate, his vault at Gringotts was already bursting. Five thousand Galleons was chump change.
Convinced, Amy accepted the chest. "These days, climbing the Ministry ladder takes connections and coin, not just skill."
"All right, I won't keep you two lovebirds any longer!" George teased, vanishing in a haze of Apparition.
The Eve of the N.E.W.T.s, Hogwarts Library
Tomorrow was the Ultimate Wizarding Examination. Unlike lower years, seventh years had no final exams—only the N.E.W.T.s, which were optional for graduation but crucial for future careers.
The N.E.W.T. roster included twelve subjects: Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Charms, Astronomy, Herbology, Ancient Runes, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies. Students could choose which to take.
George had asked Dumbledore to sign him up for all twelve to strengthen his résumé. Eleven were trivial for him—only Divination posed a challenge, since true fortune-telling here was less magic and more innate talent, found only in prodigies like Grindelwald or Professor Trelawney.
He closed his books and prepared to master the one truly unpredictable subject: the art of gazing into the unknown.
Because the divination spells in the textbooks are practically useless, George hadn't even looked at them until the past two days, when he'd been cramming furiously.
Fortunately, earning a high mark in Divination isn't hard: it's mostly theory. Memorizing the textbook and relevant tomes guarantees a perfect—or near-perfect—score.
"I can't believe I missed the 'Cheering Charm!' I'm certain it'll be on the exam—Professor Flitwick hinted at it!"
As George reviewed his notes on divination, Hermione, Harry, and Ron arrived at the library. Hermione was visibly flustered.
"How could you forget? You were with us right outside Flitwick's classroom!" Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled looks.
All year, Hermione had been in a state they didn't understand: she'd signed up for every class—even ones that conflicted—vanishing and reappearing without explanation, spouting cryptic remarks.
"I can't explain it here." Hermione sighed, then flopped down beside George. "I overslept and missed Flitwick's Charms class. I promised Professor McGonagall not to tell anyone about the Time-Turner—not even you two—so you don't get why I'm upset."
Only George, who also had a Time-Turner, could fully sympathize.
"The Cheering Charm was invented by a wizard named Felix Samobey," Hermione continued. "It fills you with joy. If I recall correctly, on the third-level shelves there's a book called How to Calm Your Angry Lover Instantly—it explains the Cheering Charm in detail. You might find it useful."
George looked up with a smile.
"That's perfect—thank you, George!" Hermione's eyes lit up.
"I need to recommend that book to my dad for his shop," Ron added. "Then Mum might stop yelling at me all the time."
Seated opposite them, Harry grinned. "George, you're already reading seventh-year Divination books?"
They both knew Hermione was advanced—she often studied next year's material in advance—but George was on another level: a second-year tackling seventh-year texts.
"I have my N.E.W.T.s tomorrow," he said, "and I still need to finish Divination."
"What?!"
Hermione, who had only just returned with her own stack of books, leapt to her feet in shock at George's words.
(End of Chapter)