George also heard the approaching footsteps. After a moment's hesitation, he walked to the rooftop entrance, closed the iron door, and began to cast a spell on the handle: "Fravidium!"
The Transfiguration spell was activated, and a fist-sized lock materialized, securely locking the door.
He wasn't afraid of the ordinary men below; he simply didn't want to leave too many traces behind after killing too many people.
"Let's go."
After sealing the rooftop and temporarily blocking the underlings attempting to climb up, George cast the Levitation Charm on Leon.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Leon watched in astonishment as George's hands formed strange gestures. Then, with a single motion, Leon's body floated into the air like a balloon. Awe filled his heart at this miraculous display.
Grabbing Leon by the shoulder as he floated, George leapt from the sixth-floor rooftop, activating his power to land steadily in a shadowy alley below.
The Levitation Charm was a first-year fundamental spell, one George had focused on mastering during his studies.
While it couldn't make him fly himself, it worked wonderfully in conjunction with his magnetic manipulation to move larger objects. It was also an excellent control skill in combat, particularly against someone like X-24.
By using the Levitation Charm to lighten X-24's weight, he could manipulate the opponent as if they were a mere toy with his magnetic abilities.
"Do you need any further help?"
"You've already done enough; I can handle the rest from here," Leon replied, gritting his teeth.
With Chebel dead, Leon's reputation and influence would make it easy for him to transform the Chebel family into the Leon family if he wished.
As for Chebel's son—a useless playboy with no real talent—he posed no threat.
Leon also didn't want to owe this mysterious man more than he already did, knowing such favors always came with a price. So far, he had no idea what George might demand of him in the future.
"Then take care of the Chebel family quickly. Don't look for me; I'll come to you if I need anything," George said with a nod, rising slowly into the night sky until he vanished.
He had already helped Leon enough. If Leon still failed, he wasn't worth George's time as an agent.
Meanwhile, in George's counterpart world of Harry Potter, an opportunity to strengthen his relationship with Snape presented itself: the first flying class of the term, held on Thursday afternoon after Charms class.
Snape, one of the school's top experts second only to Dumbledore, had created the Sectumsempra curse—a magical equivalent of a deadly sword.
As the head of Slytherin House, Snape was someone George felt he must build a good rapport with.
Beyond earning points for Slytherin to secure the House Cup, George also aimed to help the Slytherin Quidditch team achieve victory.
Quidditch, a beloved sport among wizards, could bolster George's reputation among students.
However, the downside was that it consumed time he could otherwise devote to studying spells.
Still, after careful consideration, George decided it wasn't a waste. Practicing on a broomstick would help him adapt to flying, a skill he deemed essential.
Apparition, while convenient, could be disrupted by counter-Apparition spells. In certain situations, flying would prove more reliable.
Though George had never flown on a broomstick before and wasn't sure about his physical aptitude for it, he had a secret weapon prepared in advance.
Slytherin's first-year flying class was held jointly with Gryffindor.
By 3:30 PM, the students from both houses had gathered on the lawn outside the castle.
Those from wizarding families eagerly shared tales of their past flying exploits—stories that were likely exaggerated: racing eagles, flying across the sea to France, or nearly colliding with Muggle airplanes.
"George, I may not be as good as you in other subjects, but I won't let you win in flying!" Ginny, accompanied by Colin, approached George with confidence.
George chuckled. "I've never ridden a broomstick before, so I doubt I'll be scoring any points."
Ginny, however, was a natural talent, not unlike Harry. At six years old, she had snuck into her family's broom shed to ride her brothers' brooms without getting caught.
But this time, George thought, Ginny might still be disappointed.
"Alright, children, form two lines, and I'll hand out the brooms," Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, announced, dragging along twenty or so battered broomsticks.
"These are ancient!"
George raised an eyebrow as he examined his broom, its uneven bristles sticking out at odd angles. These relics likely dated back to the Cleansweep series, leagues behind the modern Nimbus models in speed and performance.
"Place your brooms on the ground and follow my instructions to control them. Remember, confidence is key—if you're unsure, the broom won't respond."
Madam Hooch spent the next thirty minutes teaching the young witches and wizards the proper incantations and techniques for flying.
"Now, stretch out your right hand over the broom handle and recite the spell," she instructed.
The experienced students easily summoned their brooms, but for the novices, chaos ensued. Some brooms rolled stubbornly on the ground, others wobbled into the air only to crash back down, and a few lay still, their owners clearly mispronouncing the spell.
"Doesn't seem too hard," George mused, extending his hand. The broom shot into his grasp instantly, surprising even him.
He guessed it wasn't innate talent but rather his enhanced psychic abilities amplifying his mental focus.
This advantage had also made his magical studies exceptionally efficient.
Sometimes George wondered: if his level-two psychic power provided such benefits, what if Professor X had wizarding blood? Would his learning speed be unparalleled?
And what about Phoenix Jean Grey? Then again, with her Phoenix Force, perhaps magic wasn't even necessary.
"Alright, next, we'll practice flying. When I blow the whistle, kick off the ground firmly," Madam Hooch instructed.
As she spoke, George discreetly guided a thin, hair-like wire from his sleeve to coil around his broomstick.