Chapter 340 Maria Gonzalez

The “Magic Magic Show” has traveled to more and more countries.

Its influence in the Muggle world is also expanding.

With his jaw-dropping magic skills, he has won the fanatical pursuit of countless fans.

Muggles are curious about their "magic" and have joined in uncovering the secrets.

Although many seemingly reasonable speculations have been put forward, no one has been able to truly crack it.

Nowadays, many media have begun to use "magic" to describe their performances.

And this term is widely recognized among Muggles.

At the same time, the dream projector was also quietly updated.

Those who have purchased this device can personally perform the various magical tricks in the "Magical Magic Show" in their dreams.

Weir is almost playing his cards straight.

He quietly waited for the day when the world would reveal their identities as wizards.

The performance had just ended on a sunny afternoon.

Weir received an anonymous letter.

The letter read:

"I know you are not real magicians, but wizards with magic. I want to communicate with you alone."

A smile appeared on Will's lips. It seemed that his plan was working.

Will met the anonymous magic enthusiast in a remote cafe.

"Hello, Mr. Will Smith." Gonzalez extended his hand enthusiastically.

Will also smiled and held out his hand, "Nice to meet you, I wonder, who are you?"

"Maria Gonzalez."

"Hello, Mr. Gonzalez, what do you want to talk to me about?"

"There are some things, but there is no rush. Please take a look at this first."

After Gonzalez finished speaking, he pushed a stack of documents that had been prepared on the table towards Weir.

The document contains detailed information about his personal information.

Including the fact that he originally served in the British Eagle Force and fought in several wars.

After retiring, he transferred to the local police station and was assigned to become an undercover agent for the Vulture Gang.

And all the information including becoming the president of the ninth largest entertainment company.

There was even a character profile of him at the end of the document.

Including the speculation that he might have transformed from an ordinary person into a wizard.

Will did not shirk responsibility but admitted it directly and openly.

"This information is indeed very detailed. It seems that Mr. Gonzalez's identity is not simple!"

Gonzalez smiled and revealed his identity.

"In addition to my love for magic, I have another role - the Minister of Intelligence of the United States."

Will wasn't too surprised.

After all, anyone who can come up with such detailed information must be a high-ranking official in a certain country.

"Now that you've finished reading, can you tell me why you came to me?"

Gonzalez was a little surprised by Will's reaction, "I want to know how you became a wizard?"

Will's eyes sparkled, "Oh, Mr. Gonzalez wants to be a wizard?"

Voldemort's hand on the Elder Wand was shaking, and Harry held Draco's wand tightly. He knew that moment was coming.

"The wand still won't obey your command completely, because you killed the wrong person. Severus Snape was not the true master of the Elder Wand at all, and he did not defeat Dumbledore at all."

"He killed——"

"Didn't you hear me? Snape didn't defeat Dumbledore at all! They planned Dumbledore's death together! Dumbledore planned to die undefeated and become the last true master of the wand! If everything went according to plan, the power of the wand should have died with him, because no one could win the wand from him!"

"But, Potter, Dumbledore has given me the wand!" Voldemort's voice trembled with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last owner's grave! I took it against its last owner's will! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't understand, Riddle? It's not enough to own a wand! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it truly yours. Didn't you hear what Ollivander said? The wand chooses the wizard... Before Dumbledore died, the Elder Wand took on a new owner who had never even touched it. The new owner removed the wand from Dumbledore's hand against his will, without knowing what he had done or that the most powerful wand in the world was now serving him..."

Voldemort's chest was heaving violently, and Harry could feel the curses rushing up, felt them gathering power in the wand pointed at his face.

"The true owner of the Elder Wand is Draco Malfoy."

A look of blank surprise appeared on Voldemort's face, but it was fleeting.

"But what does it matter?" he whispered. "Even if you are right, Potter, what does it matter to you and me? You no longer hold the phoenix-feather wand: we duel only by skill ... and when I kill you, I will deal with Draco Malfoy ..."

"But you're too late," said Harry. "You missed your chance. I got there first. I defeated Draco Malfoy a few weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Harry shook his hawthorn wand and felt all eyes in the Great Hall on it.

"So, that's how it all works out, isn't it?" Harry whispered. "Does the wand in your hand know that its last owner was disarmed? If it knows... I am now the true master of the Elder Wand."

Suddenly, the magical sky above them burst into a golden-red light, and a small half of the sun shone brightly on the windowsill nearest them. The sun shone on both of their faces at the same time, and Voldemort's cheeks turned red. Harry heard Voldemort's high-pitched voice screaming, and at the same time he raised Draco's wand and shouted his most ardent hope to the sky:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Except your weapons!"

There was a bang, like a cannonball, and in the middle of the circle they had been treading, a golden flame shot out, where the spells had collided. Harry saw Voldemort's green light meet his own, saw the Old Spell fly into the air, black in the rising sun, spinning like Nagini's head under the enchanted ceiling, whirling towards the master it would not kill - the master who would finally own it completely. With the skill of a Seeker, Harry caught the flying wand with his free hand, and Voldemort stumbled back, arms outstretched, the narrow pupils of his red eyes rolled up. Tom Riddle fell to the ground, dead as a mortal would, his body limp and twitching, his pale hands empty, his snake face blank and blank. Voldemort was dead, killed by the rebound of his own spell. Harry stood there, two wands in his hands, looking down at the shell of his opponent.