Scrimgeour was still grasping the situation.
Ivan couldn't help but wonder—are these people really Aurors representing justice, or just some second-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professors?
"You, you?"
Scrimgeour's worldview seemed to have been completely upended, but with Moody's subtle reminder, he quickly connected the dots between Ivan and the dark wizard from Gringotts.
The same commanding temperament, the same confidence in his demeanor.
Although the physical appearance was different, the aura was nearly identical.
This realization hit hard. It was clear Ivan had never intended to hide himself.
He was openly standing there, face-to-face with the Ministry of Magic officials.
Arrogance—it was the only word that came to mind.
"Mr. Director, would you like to stay here with me?"
Ivan smiled calmly at Scrimgeour. As everyone watched, the wand in Scrimgeour's hand suddenly began to disintegrate.
Without warning, it turned to ash and dissipated into the air, right before their eyes.
"My wand!"
Scrimgeour's pupils trembled as he stared at the remains in his palm, his expression one of sheer disbelief.
"How did you do that?"
Destroying a wand was one thing, but to reduce it to nothingness—without any visible spell, chant, or gesture—was beyond comprehension.
Exaggeration could not capture the reactions of the Aurors present, nor those of Snape and McGonagall.
Ivan's move had completely overturned their understanding of magic.
"Don't be nervous, Mr. Scrimgeour."
Ivan spoke calmly, waving his hand. The ashes from Scrimgeour's wand began to condense between his fingers.
In the next moment, the wand reformed, as if time itself had rewound.
"See? It's perfectly fine now~"
Ivan casually played with Scrimgeour's wand, weighing it in his hand for a moment before handing it back to him.
"..."
Scrimgeour stood there, stunned. Almost mechanically, he took the wand from Ivan.
At this moment, the Director of the Auror Office fully understood that he was no match for Ivan.
No, it wasn't just him.
There wasn't anyone in the entire British Ministry of Magic who could rival Ivan.
And the potential consequences of opposing someone with such overwhelming power were simply unimaginable.
"Remember what I told you before?"
Ivan's voice broke through the stunned silence.
"It's foolish to let a big-mouthed fool, obsessed with power and self-interest, serve as the Minister of Magic."
The root of Ivan's conflict with the Ministry of Magic ultimately boiled down to his actions against Fudge and Umbridge.
As for Gringotts and goblins.
These are actually not the responsibility of the Ministry of Magic, they are purely the goblins' own problems.
Even if Scrimgeour had a strong sense of justice, he couldn't justify standing up for the goblins and risking bringing a powerful enemy like Ivan to the British wizarding world.
No matter how foolish someone might be, such an action would be unthinkable.
"That Fudge and Umbridge?"
"Hah!"
Moody scoffed disdainfully.
Those ignorant fools don't care about the difference in strength between the two sides.
In their eyes, Ivan is out of control, someone who has humiliated them and damaged the authority of the Ministry of Magic.
Such people only saw Ivan as a threat—someone who needed to be dealt with immediately, even sent to Azkaban.
But shouting to send him to Azkaban when Ivan was leaving Gringotts?
Scrimgeour, Moody, and Kingsley never seriously entertained the idea.
Not then and not now.
Ivan was far too strong and far too exceptional.
If he continued to grow, the British wizarding world would reach the pinnacle of magical power, rivaling the glory of Merlin's era.
To eliminate Ivan now would be to sever their own future.
Subtly, a shift occurred. Moody and Kingsley began to take positions—not against Ivan, but against Scrimgeour and Dawlish.
On the other side, Dawlish, still confused, struggled to comprehend what was happening. Scrimgeour had no fear.
The head of the Auror Office just stood there quietly, looking at Ivan.
"What do you want to do?"
Scrimgeour, a strict and righteous man, was not afraid of death.
If Ivan truly was the second Voldemort, Scrimgeour would not hesitate to strike, even at the cost of his own life.
"I've said it before."
"And I'll say it again now."
Ivan glanced at Dumbledore, who gave a slight nod to indicate his support. "I plan to follow the rules of the game in the wizarding world, rather than relying on my strength like Voldemort and flipping the table whenever I please."
"You're willing to abide by the law?" Scrimgeour asked, narrowing his eyes.
"That depends."
Ivan's reply made Scrimgeour tense, his heart racing.
"If the rules are fair, I will respect them and not break them. But if someone acts unreasonably, then they can't blame me for responding in kind."
Ivan's answer, while unsettling, reassured Scrimgeour to some extent.
As long as Ivan didn't kill indiscriminately, Scrimgeour could find ways to work with him.
Regarding the Gringotts incident and the curses on Fudge and Umbridge, these matters could be interpreted in different ways, depending on the perspective.
The key was the lack of fatalities.
Throughout the entire event, Ivan hadn't killed anyone.
While Fudge, Umbridge, and the Aurors had indeed been humiliated, they couldn't deny that Ivan had simply been far more skilled.
In the end, there wasn't much they could say.
According to him, what Ivan did, to put it bluntly, was the result of youthful impulsiveness, causing some people to lose face.
If one were to evaluate the actual harm caused, it was nearly negligible.
The goblins only lost the Soul Chest and the cursed gold coins within it.
According to Ivan, these were part of the Ambrosius inheritance and rightfully belonged to him.
Ivan's reasoning was sound.
The goblins, notorious for their greed, would never willingly return anything they had acquired, no matter how rightful the claim.
In such a scenario, the use of force seemed like the only viable option.
"Alright," Scrimgeour finally said, raising his wand.
But this time, it wasn't directed at Ivan.
Instead, the wand was aimed at Dawlish, who had been standing frozen in shock since the truth about Ivan's identity was revealed.
And it wasn't just Scrimgeour.
Both Moody and Kingsley also turned their wands, pointing them at Dawlish.
The sight of three wands suddenly aimed at him sent Dawlish into a panic.
"Wait! Wait a minute!"
Dawlish finally snapped out of his daze, the realization of what was happening overwhelming him.
Why are they pointing at me?!
Dawlish didn't understand the situation at all. He stared at the three wands pointed at him, bewildered and alarmed.
"Can anyone explain to me what's going on?"
Without hesitation, Dawlish tossed his own wand aside and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"It's time to make a choice, Mr. Dawlish," Ivan said, stepping forward before the others could respond.
The boy's expression was calm, his smile almost innocent, but his words were enough to send a chill down Dawlish's spine.
"Will you side with Fudge or with me?"
"What?"
Dawlish's first instinct was to scoff. He wanted to retort that Ivan was just a boy, a child unqualified to make such demands.
But the reality was undeniable, right in front of him.
Ivan was too powerful.
A single breath from him could turn a wand to ashes. A flick of his finger could reshape matter itself.
Even someone as dense as Dawlish could recognize the magnitude of Ivan's abilities.
__________
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