I Might be a Fake Wizard

7 Advanced chapters on Patreon: Fiction Haven

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The news regarding the establishment of a special force to combat Voldemort's army became widespread at a moment's notice. The media tirelessly poured out articles about the said force and what the people could expect from it. All eyes were on Britain and its saviour. The establishment of Morte Dextra was the acknowledgement of the start of the Second Wizarding War.

Queries and applications flooded the Ministry the day after. The excited crowd and the curious media wanted to know what made Morte Dextra special. Naturally, the Ministry didn't answer any queries about that. Those who just wanted to be in the special force just applied to it. The applicants ranged from normal Wizards to veteran Aurors. Some retired Aurors even decided to come out of their caves and apply.

A week passed and the application was closed. Soon after, the applicants were summoned. Except for the very view, the applicants knew each other. Even the retired Aurors knew some of the applications as they had once worked together. Those who didn't know anyone in the Auror force, too, were socialising. The mood was pretty light-hearted.

With that said, tension still existed. That mainly came from the group of people wearing the same uniform. They were dressed in grey robes with a unique symbol on the nape—a triangle containing a circle with a straight line splitting it in half. There were some unknown faces in the group, but the familiar ones had quite a fearsome reputation. Among those were Lily Evans, Bellatrix Black, and Rufus Scrimgeour.

They were the only group that remained conducted and no one bothered to strike up a conversation with them. Their reputation and professionalism were clear signs that they didn't want to be bothered.

"Call me crazy and all, but are you sure about leaving the country's fate to a brat who recently turned 18? I mean, I saw what he did at the Tri-Wizard Championship—hell, the world has. But hear me out, fighting and leading are two different things. What does he know about leading people?"

"Even if he can't, he will still bolster everyone's morale. Dumbledore has never led an army—at least, not that we know of—but still took down Grindelwald. What matters is Lord Peverell gives hope to people."

"No shite, mate. But what if he sends us to our deaths only to fail in the end?"

"That is…"

Those who had initially thought the speaker was a jealous fool for badmouthing Harry turned contemplative. They had seen the memories retrieved from the dying Death Eater who had witnessed Harry's fight with Voldemort. They knew how capable Harry was. The fight had been replayed many times in the Auror Department for learning. However, what the random man said about Harry got them thinking.

Harry might kill Voldemort eventually. He had done that twice. However, what if killing Voldemort didn't end the war? What if the Death Eaters already had their claws so deep into the Britain Wizarding Society that they still won the war even after losing the battle? What if they no longer had enough people to combat the Death Eaters because Harry lacked the strategic thinking to win the war?

"Lucky you, you are facing the Death Eaters and not Voldemort."

The lazy but cold voice that resounded throughout the room without notice jolted everyone to attention. Harry was standing in front of the room, making everyone line up with his sheer presence. His eyes scanned the entire room. Except for the uniformed group, everyone who met his eyes clutched their head.

"Hm. Adequate but disappointing nonetheless."

Those clutching their heads groaned and looked up with a wronged gaze.

"With only that much you dare complain, eh? If you think you can lead better than me, get up here and replace me."

No one moved an inch, their face rigid with nervousness.

"You see, my friends, Voldemort is not a great leader either. He only gives his pets a simple order and waits for stellar results. But he succeeds, does he not? Do you know why?" Harry's azure eyes glowed. "Strategic thinking matters little before power."

Magic overflowed the room, making everyone want to bow. No one ended up doing that, though, as Harry retracted his Magic soon after.

"What you have to worry about is facing the Death Eaters—Voldemort's cronies. I will handle the behemoths. You might as well hide in the soil if you are afraid of those losers. If you still worry about losing to them, I will give you the tools to win against them. And if you still lose despite that, I will tell the public you have fought valiantly and fallen to the best."

They couldn't quite figure out what Harry's intention was. His speech was equally mocking and motivating. Regardless, no one doubted his ability to lead anymore. Just his presence alone had caused them to shut up. He would lead the force just fine.

"Now, Fletcher, go back into the rank."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The applicants turned to the random man who had sowed doubts within them. Mundungus Fletcher was saluting with a grin on his face, ignoring the incredulous look the people around him sent him. He rushed to the uniformed group, his clothes changed into the uniform the group was wearing. The applicants had been tricked. Not even the veterans had noticed.

"Now, listen up. As you can see, the uniformed group there consists of the official Morte Dextra members. Yes, even your Head Auror works under me. I think that tells enough of how high the bar I set."

No one disagreed. The notorious Bellatrix Black whose skills even made the veteran Aurors shit bricks only ended up as a mere member of the group. Confident they might be in their skill, they weren't delusional enough to think they were above the fearsome Black. There was a reason why she became the Head Auror in her twenties.

"With that said, the compensation is well worth it. Money won't be an issue for you and your family. You can die with a smile, knowing your family will be comfortable for the rest of their life. The more mundane reward from it is fame. But who cares about that?" Harry shrugged, ignoring the grin that appeared on some of the faces. "However, the moment you join us, you will surrender your entire being to me and the country."

"What?"

Only one person reacted to the statement, but he represented what everyone had in their mind.

"I will give you the tools to eradicate Death Eaters and survive Voldemort, remember? There is no way I am going to entrust such a powerful tool without deterrence," Harry said blandly. "If you don't want to be my and the country's slaves, leave the room. I'm not interested in smartasses who plot behind my back."

Normally, those sentences would have turned many people away. However, Harry's domineering presence fired up the crowd more. Some people were hesitant, still, but no one left. They stood their ground and looked at Harry resolutely. As long as they had the tools to eradicate those Dark Wizards, they were ready to be used like tools.

"I have seen your resolve. Now, let's proceed with the screening. Dumbledore, give me a hand, will you?"

"And here I thought you would never call me."

Dumbledore sauntered into the room with a smile on his face. His eyes twinkled as he looked at Harry and the crowd. The applicants could barely keep their shock off their faces. Bellatrix Black and Lily Evans were somewhat understandable, but the fact that even Dumbledore worked under the Peverell Lord was nothing short of mind-boggling. It confirmed what many had speculated: Harry Peverell had surpassed Albus Dumbledore.

Taking the shocked looks with mirth, Dumbledore waved his wand and created an ethereal film that separated Harry and him from the applicants. There was enough room before the two for the applicants even if they moved forward. The uniformed group was the one who took the initiative. Interestingly, they noticeably slowed down when passing through the film and regained their normal pace afterwards.

"This barrier separates the brave and the cowards, the treacherous and the loyal, and the wicked and the righteous. It will show you things that you fear most, give you the sweetest deal that you can hardly refuse, and offer you a great way that shakes your morality. Pass through this barrier and I will accept you."

The applicants' eyes lit up. They finally understood why the uniform group had slowed down. Many of them got confident, thinking they could take whatever the barrier threw at them. That thought quickly changed when the first applicant walked into the barrier.

"Uwah!"

The scream that the man let out would make you think he had been Cruciatused all night long.

"There is enough room for others to try," Harry's voice returned their focus. "Come on, eight people at a time."

They braved themselves and walked into the barrier. They cried and wailed as they saw their worst nightmare. They saw their family die over and over, experienced the most horrid torture known to man, and died only to get killed again. When they had overcome their fear, they were enticed with heaven for simple treachery. Once they ignored it, they were forced to choose between their family and the world. Many broke down before choosing the world.

"Keuh!"

Unfortunately, their agony didn't end after they passed the tests. As soon as they passed through the barrier, Harry's might pushed their shoulders down. They had to grit their teeth to step forward. The closer they got, the heavier their body got. By the time they were in front of Harry, they were already kneeling like an obedient servant.

This moment made them realise who they truly worked for. Wizarding Britain? It was Harry Peverell.