"It seems he really is dead."
After waiting about five minutes without any sign of movement from the old wizard, George cautiously pushed open the door and stepped inside.
He checked the old wizard's breathing and, once sure he was indeed dead, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
A black wizard in his seventies or eighties—there was no way he could have taken him on in a fair fight.
If that wizard had cast a Shield Charm to protect himself, a simple Stunning Spell would have been enough to knock George out.
For a dark wizard to live to such an old age, he must have had some tricks up his sleeve, maybe even a few hidden cards. George's success in killing him had more to do with the lack of any defense on the old man's part than any real skill of his own.
Once he confirmed the wizard's death, George feigned a look of panic, quickly pushed open the shop door, and ran in the direction of Diagon Alley.
He didn't shout about it in Knockturn Alley—doing so would likely attract some ill-intentioned dark wizards before any Aurors even showed up.
"Help! Help! Mr. Merton was injured while brewing potions! Can anyone save him?"
As soon as George reached Diagon Alley, he put on a distressed face and began shouting, as if he were mourning a close relative.
Sure enough, his cries soon caught the attention of two patrolling Aurors nearby.
"Take us to him, quickly!"
Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, being gathering places for wizards and dark wizards alike, were under constant Auror patrol to prevent any incidents that might make the papers and damage the Ministry of Magic's reputation—especially that of the Minister.
Plus, it was the start of the school season, with many young wizards in the area shopping with their families.
---
Inside Merton's Potions Shop, a young witch with pink hair, a pale heart-shaped face, and about eighteen or nineteen years old reported her findings to the middle-aged wizard standing across from George.
"Director Scrimgeour, after testing, we found no traces of magic from a second wand. Nothing was stolen, so we can rule out homicide. We're confident it was an accidental death caused by potion-brewing."
The middle-aged wizard nodded in satisfaction.
"A detailed analysis, Tonks. Looks like Mad-Eye Moody taught you well this past year. Keep learning from him, and in two years, you'll become a fully-fledged Auror."
"Professor Moody may have a rough temper, but it's an honor to learn from him."
The young witch's face showed a hint of pride.
Alastor Moody, though retired, was a legendary Auror in the wizarding world; over half of the inmates in Azkaban had been sent there by him.
For a trainee Auror to receive guidance from a retired Auror of such renown was enough to make her fellow trainees envious.
Meanwhile, George, who had been eavesdropping, perked up when he heard the two conversing.
"Scrimgeour, head of the Auror Office... is he the Rufus Scrimgeour who later replaced Cornelius Fudge as the new Minister of Magic? And Tonks... could she be Nymphadora Tonks, the Metamorphmagus?"
He searched his past memories, and their identities gradually became clear.
Scrimgeour, after succeeding Cornelius Fudge as Minister, had taken a very firm stance against Voldemort and the Death Eaters, only to be brutally murdered by Voldemort later.
Tonks, born with the ability to change her appearance at will, had apparently ended up marrying Professor Lupin. Who would have thought she was fresh out of school and not even officially an Auror yet?
It seemed that Lupin really was the proverbial old man with a young bride.
Of course, that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that he knew Scrimgeour and Tonks were relatively responsible Aurors—a good thing for him at the moment.
Are all Aurors necessarily good people? Not exactly.
The Ministry was riddled with corruption, and quite a few Aurors were part of it.
If he'd encountered a greedy Auror, who knew how much of the inheritance he'd actually end up with?
---
"What a poor child. He finally found a home, and now he's an orphan again." After handing her report to her supervisor, Tonks turned to George with a sympathetic look in her eyes.
Her investigation had revealed this frail boy's background.
"That may not be entirely bad," Scrimgeour remarked, shaking his head.
As the head of the Auror Office, he was more than familiar with the kind of wizards who frequented Knockturn Alley.
Judging from the boy's thin, scarred body, Scrimgeour had already guessed most of the story.
This might actually be a good thing for the boy. At least now he could inherit a decent fortune and go to Hogwarts.
"Kid, your name's Doran, right? With Mr. Merton's death, you're his only remaining relative, so…"
Scrimgeour approached George and briefly explained the situation.
The gist of it was:
One, George could inherit the dark wizard's shop and whatever money he had in Gringotts.
Two, with the dark wizard gone and no one to teach George magic, he would have to go to Hogwarts.
Both of these points were as George had expected, and he readily agreed.
Throughout the investigation, he didn't act too devastated. Anything more would have seemed fake, and he didn't have the acting skills to fool a seasoned wizard like Scrimgeour.
At the end, however, he did make one request.
"Sir, I don't want to keep using the name Doran. Could I change it?"
He didn't resonate with the name Doran; if possible, he'd prefer to go back to George, which sounded more pleasing.
"Of course. Tomorrow, Miss Tonks will help you complete all the inheritance paperwork, and she can assist with a name change if you like."
Scrimgeour wasn't surprised by George's request, assuming the boy wanted to move on from painful memories.
"Don't worry, I'll handle it," Tonks said, stepping forward to gently ruffle George's hair.
She wasn't naive—she'd picked up on hints during the conversation between George and her supervisor.
"Thank you, Miss Auror."
George responded politely, expressing his gratitude.
Having the chance to build a connection with an Auror certainly wasn't a bad thing. He might even need their help in the future.
Knockturn Alley wasn't a safe place. Inheriting the dark wizard's fortune was like a child walking down the street with a piece of gold, bound to attract attention.
No one might dare act openly, but in secret—who knew?
"What a sensible child."
Seeing how polite and well-behaved George was despite his young age, Tonks warmed up to him even more.
Most adults don't mind children; it's the bratty kids and their parents they dislike. A well-mannered child, on the other hand, often earns a bit of extra kindness.