Seeing the magical transformation of Charlie's wand, Ollivander grew completely excited.
He turned to Harry, barely managing to restrain his excitement.
"Mr. Potter, your wand."
Harry hurriedly handed over the wand he had just wiped clean.
Ollivander took the wand, his gaze sweeping over the shaft, and his brows furrowed slightly.
He saw some oil stains but said nothing, simply giving it a wave.
"Holly, Phoenix feather, eleven inches, no problem."
After saying this, he returned the wand to Harry.
Harry was stunned. So fast?
He didn't know that Ollivander was currently in a post-excitement lull and couldn't muster any interest in his wand.
"Alright, all the wands are fine!" Bagman jumped up excitedly, clapping his hands.
"Now, let's take a photo! The judges and champions together—this is a historic moment!"
The photographer immediately got to work.
Because of her height, Madame Maxime had to sit in a chair in the center, while the others stood around her.
The photographer held up his camera, looked left and right, and suddenly pointed at Fleur and Charlie.
"You two, stand in the front. Yes, right there!"
Fleur hesitated for a moment but still walked to the front. Charlie didn't think much of it and stepped forward a few paces.
The photographer nodded in satisfaction; you really need handsome men and beautiful women to get a good shot.
"Very good, everyone look at the camera!"
With a click, the flash went off.
After the photo was taken, Harry immediately got up and walked out; he didn't want to stay here a moment longer.
Seeing this, Rita rolled her eyes, and stood up as well.
"Ms. Rita," Charlie suddenly called out to her.
Rita's footsteps halted; she turned around stiffly, forcing a smile onto her face.
"Mr. White, is there something you need?"
"I've read your articles before," Charlie said slowly.
"I have some thoughts I'd like to discuss with you."
Rita's smile froze instantly on her face, looking worse than if she were crying.
"Those reports were just artistic embellishments. Please, don't mind them; I just wanted to make the articles more interesting."
"I don't mind," Charlie smiled.
"We're just chatting."
The atmosphere in the room instantly solidified.
The others exchanged glances and wisely began to walk out.
Bagman slipped out the fastest, and Krum followed behind, expressionless.
Before leaving, Fleur glanced at Rita, a trace of schadenfreude in her eyes.
Rita panicked and looked at Harry.
"Mr. Potter, would you like to stay behind as well?"
Harry walked away without even looking back.
Rita looked at Ollivander again.
"Mr. Ollivander, you have such expertise regarding wands, would you like to listen to our discussion as well?"
Ollivander shook his head and hurried away, clutching his toolbox.
Finally, Rita pinned her hopes on Dumbledore.
"Professor Dumbledore, why don't you stay? Chat with us about those reports?"
Please, don't leave me here alone!
A glimmer of amusement flashed in Dumbledore's eyes.
"No need, Rita. Although I quite enjoyed the part where you described me as a lunatic, I still have some matters to attend to." He paused.
"I hope you have a pleasant chat."
After saying this, Dumbledore walked out and thoughtfully closed the door.
Only Charlie and Rita were left in the room.
Rita's smile completely collapsed; she swallowed hard and stared at Charlie nervously.
Seeing that there was no one else in the room, Charlie restrained his smile and looked up at Rita.
Previously, Rita had fabricated stories about the relationship between him, Hermione, and Harry. Although Rita had been taught a lesson at the time and had retracted the previous reports,
Charlie was not that magnanimous. Once she fell into his hands, there was no way he would let her off easily.
Did she think she could leave after offending a Tyrant?
"Mr. White, I really know I was wrong." Rita squeezed out a smile, wanting to step forward to speak.
Charlie didn't speak; he just sat on the chair, his magic instantly surging out and slamming into Rita's face.
Rita's smile froze on her face; she felt something pressing down on her, making it difficult to breathe.
Her body was uncontrollably pushed toward the wall, pinning her against it, unable to move.
"Mr. White, please, help!" Rita tried to call for help.
Charlie waved his hand to cast a Spell, completely sealing off the sound in the room.
Rita's eyes widened, and she screamed loudly, but no one outside could hear her.
She struggled desperately, her hands and feet flailing in the air, but that invisible force grew tighter and tighter, pinning her firmly against the wall.
Charlie stood up and walked slowly toward Rita.
With every step closer, the force pressing down on Rita grew heavier.
Her body began to deform, her ribs creaked with a cracking sound, and her face flushed crimson.
When he reached Rita, the plaster behind her cracked, and tiny fragments fell down with a rustling sound.
Tears streamed down Rita's face, and she let out a mournful whimper, shaking her head desperately.
"Please, let me go..."
Charlie stopped and looked down at her.
"Give me one reason to let you go."
"I... I am willing to serve you as my master!" Rita said, trembling.
"From now on, all the articles I write will be your blade; those who oppose you will be torn apart by public opinion! I swear, I swear!"
Charlie was silent for a moment before loosening his magic slightly. Rita lowered her head, panting heavily.
"Why should I trust you?" Charlie said, crossing his arms, his tone flat.
Rita looked up, her eyes full of horror.
She had never seen anyone who could suppress her to the point of complete helplessness with magic alone, without using any Spell.
That magic was so thick it was unfathomable; when it pressed down, she even thought she was going to die.
She had really kicked an iron plate this time.
Rita gritted her teeth, her voice bitter.
"I can hand over my leverage to you." She paused for a moment and closed her eyes.
"I am an illegal Animagus."
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
Rita opened her eyes, a glimmer of despair flashing in them.
"My Animagus form is a beetle. Over the years, I've relied on this ability to eavesdrop on countless secrets and write many exclusive reports." Her voice grew quieter.
"If the Ministry of Magic finds out, I will be locked in Azkaban."
Charlie raised an eyebrow; so that was it.
No wonder this person had written so many smear pieces and hadn't been killed yet.
Besides choosing her targets cleverly—either those unable to resist, like Harry, or those who wouldn't lower themselves to her level, like Dumbledore—
there was also this beetle Animagus form, which was top-tier for gathering intelligence and escaping.
Since that was the case, this person was indeed somewhat useful.
So, Charlie withdrew his magic.
Rita immediately fell to the ground, curled into a ball, and began to cough violently.
Her hair was disheveled, her robes were crumpled, and there was not a trace of her previous shrewd and capable appearance.
Charlie took a bottle of Potion from his robes. The liquid was an eerie dark purple, shimmering with a faint luster under the light.
Seeing that Potion, Rita's pupils contracted violently, and her body instinctively recoiled.
"No, don't, what do you want to do?"
Charlie didn't answer; he walked straight up, grabbed Rita's chin with one hand, and shoved the mouth of the Potion bottle into her mouth.
"Mmph!" Rita struggled desperately, waving her hands wildly, trying to push Charlie away.
But her strength was negligible in front of Charlie and was easily suppressed.
The cold liquid poured down her throat, and Rita began to cough violently, tears and snot streaming down her face.
She lay on the ground retching, wanting to vomit the Potion out, but couldn't bring anything up.
"Don't waste your effort." Charlie put away the empty bottle and looked down at her.
"You know I am a Potions Master; that bottle just now was a poison I specially concocted."
Rita's body stiffened, and the color drained from her face instantly.
"This type of poison is incurable, and you must take an antidote every month, or the poison will flare up and kill you. The process is very painful; your internal organs will rot bit by bit, your bones will break inch by inch, and finally, you will die bleeding from your seven orifices."
Rita trembled all over, her lips quivering, unable to make a sound.
Charlie crouched down to look her in the eye.
"Rest assured, as long as you are obedient, you will be fine."
He took another bottle of Potion from his pocket; this time, it was a transparent liquid.
"This is this month's antidote. Take it."
Rita tremblingly took the Potion bottle and clutched it tightly in her hand.
Her eyes were red, and tears slid down her cheeks.
"Get lost."
Charlie stood up and waved his hand to dispel the Spell on the room.
Rita staggered up and scrambled toward the door.
Just as her hand touched the doorknob, Charlie suddenly spoke.
"Wait."
"What did I keep you here for today?" Charlie asked, leaning against the table.
Rita paused, her brain racing.
"Today... nothing happened."
"Very good." Charlie nodded with satisfaction.
"Remember your words."
He didn't want Dumbledore to know about this.
Rita opened the door and bolted out as if fleeing.
Charlie stood in place, a curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.
He took out the "poison" bottle from before and held it up to the light.
This was actually just an ordinary nutritional Potion. He was just using the reputation of a Potions Master to bluff her.
If she was smart enough, she would know to come to him for the antidote every month.
But if one day she stopped coming, that would be when it was time for Rita to die.
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