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Delacour Estate, Provence, France - Morning
The morning sun cast golden light through the tall windows of the Delacour estate's breakfast room, illuminating the room in gold. The scent of lavender and freshly baked croissants filled the air as the family gathered around their mahogany table, which was set with fine porcelain bearing the Delacour coat of arms.
Fleur Delacour sat with perfect posture as she carefully examined two newspapers spread before her. The Daily Prophet, still crisp from its long journey via international owl post, lay beside the more familiar Le Monde Magique. Her blue eyes moved rapidly between the articles, her expression shifting from curiosity to genuine excitement.
"Incredible," she murmured, her fingers tracing the technical diagrams that accompanied the Prophet's coverage. "Papa, you need to see this immediately." (The Characters in this Scene are speaking French)
Minister Victorien Delacour looked up from his own correspondence, his dignified features showing mild interest. "What has captured your attention so completely, my daughter?"
"'Arry Potter," Fleur replied, her voice carrying a mixture of professional admiration and something more personal. "The integration of ancient curse-breaking with protective enchantments... Nicolas Flamel was right about his potential. This is revolutionary work."
Apolline Delacour glided into the room with her characteristic Veela grace, her platinum hair flowing behind her like liquid silver. Even at this early hour, she moved with the sort of otherworldly beauty that made flowers seem to lean toward her as she passed. "What about young Monsieur Potter?" she asked, settling into her chair like a proper lady.
"He's secured a forty-thousand Galleon contract with the Italian Ministry," Fleur explained, passing the newspapers to her mother. "But it's not just the money, Mama. Look at these technical specifications. He's somehow managed to harmonize Etruscan counter-curse matrices with Norse protective frameworks. Most master artificers spend decades trying to achieve such integration."
Eight-year-old Gabrielle Delacour chose that moment to burst into the breakfast room with all the enthusiasm of a child who had just discovered something wonderfully scandalous. Her silvery curls bounced as she practically vibrated with excitement.
"Did someone say Harry Potter?" she announced, clapping her hands together. "Is he coming to visit? When is the wedding?"
"Gabrielle!" Fleur protested, her cheeks flushing pink. "There is no wedding!"
"But you danced with him," Gabrielle replied with the irrefutable logic of an eight-year-old. "And Mama said dancing at formal balls is what people do before they get married. And he's very cute, even if he is small."
Apolline hid a smile behind her coffee cup while Victorien cleared his throat diplomatically. "Perhaps we should focus on the professional implications of Monsieur Potter's achievements," he suggested, though his eyes twinkled with amusement.
Fleur shot her father a grateful look before returning to the newspapers. "The political ramifications are significant. This changes the balance of European magical commerce. Britain has been relatively isolated in terms of magical innovation exports, but if Potter continues developing at this rate..."
"The Germans will take notice," Victorien finished, his expression growing more serious. "Klaus Richter has been pushing for enhanced magical defense cooperation across Northern Europe. If Britain gains a significant technological advantage through Potter's work..."
"We could find ourselves excluded from crucial developments," Apolline observed, her political instincts as sharp as her husband's. "Or worse, forced to choose between British innovation and German pressure."
Fleur leaned forward, her excitement evident. "But what if we don't have to choose? What if we position France as the bridge between different magical traditions? Potter has already shown he can integrate seemingly incompatible systems. Imagine what he could accomplish with access to French elemental magic theory."
"And our alchemical resources," Victorien added thoughtfully. "Flamel has been eager to mentor promising young talents. A collaboration between Potter's innovative approaches and French magical tradition..."
"Could revolutionize protective magic across Europe," Fleur concluded. "Papa, we need to accelerate our summer invitation plans. If other nations begin approaching Potter directly..."
"We could lose the opportunity entirely," Apolline agreed. "Though we must be careful not to appear too eager. The British are suspicious of foreign interest in their talents."
Gabrielle, who had been following the conversation with the intense focus children reserved for adult discussions they didn't quite understand, suddenly brightened. "So Harry IS coming to visit! I knew it! Fleur can show him the vineyards, and they can have romantic walks, and—"
"Gabrielle," Fleur interrupted, though her tone was more exasperated than angry, "Monsieur Potter would be visiting for professional reasons. Magical collaboration, nothing more."
"But you smiled when you read about him. I saw you just now," Gabrielle pointed out with devastating accuracy. "You have the same smile you get when you're reading romantic poetry. I've seen it."
Victorien coughed to cover what might have been a chuckle. "Perhaps we should consider the practical arrangements. If we're to invite Potter for an extended visit, we'll need to coordinate with the British Ministry..."
"Non," Fleur said firmly. "From what I've read, Potter operates with considerable independence from his Ministry. The Italian contract was negotiated directly, with minimal governmental oversight. We should approach him personally, through our existing connection."
"The ball introduction," Apolline mused. "Yes, that provides appropriate social context. Though we should also involve Flamel directly. His endorsement would carry significant weight with a young artificer."
"And his grandmother's research on alchemical mercury," Fleur added, consulting her notes. "If Potter is struggling with material limitations for his advanced designs, access to Flamel's laboratory could be invaluable."
"Precisely why we need to establish our relationship first," Fleur said, her voice taking on the decisive tone that had made her the top student in her year at Beauxbatons. "A formal invitation, perhaps tied to an educational exchange program? Beauxbatons has never hosted a Hogwarts student..."
"And Potter would be the perfect candidate," Victorien agreed. "Academically exceptional, politically valuable, and already connected to our family through social channels."
Gabrielle clapped her hands together again. "See? I told you he was coming to visit! And when he does, Fleur can teach him to speak French properly, and they can practice dancing, and—"
"Gabrielle," Apolline interrupted gently, "why don't you help Mimi prepare the guest rooms? If we're to have visitors this summer, everything must be perfect."
As the youngest Delacour daughter skipped away, chattering excitedly about wedding preparations that existed only in her imagination, the adults exchanged meaningful looks.
"She's not entirely wrong, you know," Apolline observed quietly. "About Fleur's interest in young Potter."
"Maman!" Fleur protested, her cheeks flushing pink. "My interest is purely professional!"
"There's no shame in recognizing exceptional quality," Victorien said diplomatically. "Potter has proven himself remarkable in multiple areas. If a personal connection facilitates professional collaboration..."
"That's not—" Fleur began, then stopped, her composure faltering slightly. "Very well. Potter is... intriguing. He's unlike anyone I've met. Most boys our age are intimidated by Veela heritage or impressed only by surface beauty. Potter seemed to see past all of that. But it's his intellect that interests me, nothing more."
"Of course, my dear," Apolline said with a knowing smile that made Fleur's blush deepen. "His intellect only."
"And now he's proven himself capable of achievements that rival master artificers," Victorien added tactfully. "Intelligence, innovation, diplomatic maturity—remarkable qualities for someone his age."
Fleur straightened, seizing on the safer ground of professional assessment. "Exactly. He has this way of looking at problems that others consider impossible and finding solutions no one else imagined. His talisman work, even his diplomatic approach with the Italian Ministry—it's fascinating from an academic perspective. I don't think we could have fixed the problem with the sea people without his help."
"Then we have multiple reasons to ensure this collaboration succeeds," Victorien concluded carefully. "Professional advancement for France, valuable academic exchange, and strengthened relationships between our magical communities."
"Precisely)," Fleur said, her voice regaining its usual confidence. "I'll begin drafting the invitation immediately. Something that emphasizes the educational opportunities and magical collaboration."
"And I'll contact Flamel," Victorien added. "His support will legitimize the academic aspects of the visit."
Apolline stood gracefully, moving toward the window that overlooked their extensive magical gardens, though her smile suggested she wasn't entirely convinced by her daughter's protestations. "This could change everything," she said quietly. "For France, for our family, for the balance of European magical power."
Siberian Research Facility, Russian Magical Institute - Morning
The wind howled across the frozen wasteland of Siberia as snow pelted against the reinforced windows of the Russian Magical Institute's most secure research facility. Inside the temperature-controlled laboratory, Dr. Katarina spread the latest intelligence reports across her desk, her breath forming small clouds in the perpetually cold air that even magical heating couldn't entirely dispel.
Dmitri Volkov entered the laboratory, stamping snow from his heavy boots and unwinding the thick scarf that protected him from the brutal morning temperatures. His weathered face, marked by decades of working with dangerous magical experiments, showed a mixture of professional curiosity and skeptical concern.
"So, Katya," he said, settling into the chair across from her desk, "you have read Vasilisa's report about the Potter boy?" (The Characters in this Scene are speaking Russian)
Katarina nodded, her elegant features serious despite the excitement in her dark eyes. "Yes, Dmitri. If her observations are accurate... this changes everything."
She passed him the detailed report that Vasilisa Kozlova had submitted after her return from England, watching as his eyebrows climbed steadily higher while he read. "Forty thousand Galleons?" he muttered. "For one contract? With the Italian Ministry?"
Dmitri studied the diagrams with the intense focus of someone who had spent thirty years trying to solve similar problems. "My God!" he whispered. "The harmonic resonance patterns... how does a twelve-year-old understand such complexities?"
"That is the question Minister Petrov asked when Vasilisa made her report," Katarina said, moving to stand beside the frost-covered window. "Which is why we extend an invitation to Moscow in August. We must see with our own eyes what kind of wizard produces such work."
"And what did Vasilisa say about the boy himself?" Dmitri asked.
Katarina consulted Vasilisa's detailed behavioral assessment. "She described him as... unusual. Polite, yes, but there is something in his eyes. Intelligence, certainly, but also... wariness. She said he reminded her of a young wolf who has learned that the world is a dangerous place."
"Hmm," Dmitri grunted. "And his companions? This metamorphmagus who assisted with testing?"
"Nymphadora Tonks," Katarina confirmed, reading from Vasilisa's notes. "Vasilisa noted that she is very skilled, very protective of Potter. They work together like partners who trust each other completely. Unusual for the British, who typically maintain strict hierarchies."
"Which brings us to important question," Katarina said, turning from the window. "What should we do with this information?"
"That depends," a new voice interrupted from the laboratory entrance, "On how much time we have."
Both researchers turned as Vasilisa Kozlova entered, her striking beauty made even more dramatic by the severe winter coat she wore. Her dark hair was pulled back in a practical bun, but nothing could diminish the aristocratic elegance of her features or the sharp intelligence in her green eyes.
"Vasilisa," Dmitri acknowledged with a respectful nod. "We were discussing your report. Your observations about Potter..."
"Were limited," she replied, unwinding her scarf. "But sufficient to understand that this boy is not an ordinary student. I have seen master artificers with forty years of experience fail to achieve what this Potter accomplished in seven months."
"His second talisman," Katarina prompted.
"My assessment was Imperial Crown," Vasilisa confirmed. "But after studying full technical specifications... possibly even Divine Fire."
Dmitri leaned forward with interest. "And Minister Petrov has approved enhanced protocols for August visit?"
"Full laboratory access, consultation with our master ice artificers, demonstration of our northern magical techniques," Vasilisa listed. "Plus access to materials that other countries would never allow him to see - Demenor Heart, crystallized aurora essence, mammoth ivory, and Crystal Dragons."
"Clever approach," Dmitri approved. "Offer him what he cannot get elsewhere."
Vasilisa's expression became more thoughtful. "But I think we need to hurry."
"Why?" Katarina asked, frowning.
"Because I think it won't be long before Harry Potter might think of finding a new home," Vasilisa said quietly.
Both researchers stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?" Dmitri asked.
Vasilisa moved to the window, looking out at the endless Siberian landscape. "I speak only based on limited information we have gathered," she said carefully. "But apparently, for some foolish reason, the Minister of Magic from England is not happy with what Harry Potter has achieved."
"Not happy?" Katarina repeated, disbelief evident in her voice. "The boy has brought glory to British magic worldwide!"
"Exactly," Vasilisa agreed. "But our sources report... tensions between Potter and his own ministry. About political games, about attempts to control his work."
"This makes no sense," Dmitri said, shaking his head. "Why would they want to limit such talent?"
"Politics rarely makes sense," Vasilisa replied with a smile. "But if Potter becomes unhappy with his own government..."
"He might seek alternatives," Katarina finished, understanding dawning in her expression.
"And we want to be one of those alternatives," Vasilisa confirmed. "Russia can offer him what England perhaps cannot - respect, resources, freedom to work without bureaucratic obstacles."
"But this is speculation," Dmitri pointed out.
"Yes," Vasilisa acknowledged. "But based on what I observed. Potter is not a typical British wizard. He is independent, ambitious, and he does not fear authority. Such people do not stay long where they are not valued."
The three Russians sat in contemplative silence, each considering the implications of potentially recruiting one of the most talented young wizards in recent history.
"There is also Irina to consider," Dmitri said eventually, referring to their colleague who had spent fifteen years trying to achieve what Potter had apparently mastered effortlessly.
"Yes," Vasilisa sighed. "Irina Voloshina has been our most promising talisman artificer for a decade. Her best work achieved Golden Shield ranking. But compared to Potter's achievements..."
"She will not be pleased to meet twelve-year-old who has surpassed her life's work) Katarina observed diplomatically."
"We will manage Irina," Vasilisa said firmly. "The main question is whether we can convince Potter that Russia can offer him better opportunities than his native country."
"And if he proves loyal to England?" Dmitri asked.
Vasilisa's smile was cold as the Siberian wind. "Then we at least learn about his capabilities firsthand. But I suspect loyalty is a two-way street. And if his own government cannot appreciate his value..."
"He might find those who can," Katarina finished quietly.
Berlin - German Magical Assembly Headquarters
The imposing granite building that housed the German Magical Assembly stood like a fortress against the gray Berlin sky. Inside the sterile conference room, Obermagier Klaus Richter studied intelligence reports with the methodical precision that had made German magical bureaucracy the envy of Northern Europe.
"Do you speak German, Greta?" he asked his aide without looking up from the documents. (The Characters in this Scene are speaking German)
"Of course, Mr. High Mage," she replied crisply, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun that matched the efficiency of her tone.
"Then explain to me," Klaus said, adjusting his wire-rimmed spectacles, "why a twelve-year-old boy is suddenly being treated like an important politician."
"The Potter talismans are... competent," Greta replied diplomatically, consulting her notes. "Nothing revolutionary, but they work well enough to attract international attention."
Klaus nodded slowly. "Exactly. The problem isn't his magical abilities - the problem is that he's now signing contracts worth forty thousand Galleons."
At that moment, the conference room door burst open and Herr Wilhelm Kraftmeier stumbled in, his robes slightly askew and his usually perfect hair looking windswept. Wilhelm was Klaus's deputy and took his responsibilities very seriously, though his attempts at gravitas often had unintended results.
"Sir Obermagier!" Wilhelm announced dramatically, striking what he clearly thought was an impressive pose. "I bring news of the utmost urgency regarding the Potter situation!"
Klaus sighed internally. "Wilhelm, you can just speak normally. We're not in the theater."
"But Mr. High Mage," Wilhelm protested, clearly disappointed that his dramatic entrance wasn't being appreciated, "The information I have gathered is of critical importance to German magical security!"
"What information?" Greta asked, trying not to smile.
Wilhelm cleared his throat importantly and pulled out a thick folder. "After careful analysis of the Potter talismans, I have concluded that they... work."
Klaus stared at him. "That's your great discovery? That they work?"
"Yes! But not only that," Wilhelm continued earnestly, completely missing the sarcasm. "They work very well. Too well. Suspiciously well, one might say."
"Wilhelm," Klaus said slowly, "that's the point of talismans. They're supposed to work."
"Ah, but Mr. High Mage," Wilhelm waggled his finger as if he had uncovered a great conspiracy, "Ah, but Mr. High Mage, I believe that Potter may possibly... possess magical abilities!"
The room fell silent. Greta looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh. Klaus rubbed his temples.
"Wilhelm," Klaus said with the patience of a saint, "he's a wizard. Of course, he possesses magical abilities."
"Yes, but these are... magical magical abilities!" Wilhelm insisted, as if this clarified everything.
"That is stupid," Greta muttered under her breath.
"What I'm trying to say," Wilhelm continued, oblivious to the growing bewilderment of his colleagues, "What I'm trying to say is that Potter isn't just an ordinary wizard. He's a... wizard-wizard!"
Klaus stood up abruptly. "Wilhelm, sit down before you hurt yourself."
"But the threat!" Wilhelm protested, waving his arms dramatically. "Potter could upset the entire European power balance with his... his... magical wizardries!"
"His 'magical wizardries'?" Klaus repeated incredulously.
"Yes! His talismans are too talismanic!" Wilhelm declared triumphantly, as if this made perfect sense.
Greta finally gave up trying to maintain her composure. "Wilhelm, listen to yourself. You sound like a parrot that's read too many handbooks."
"A very intelligent parrot!" Wilhelm corrected indignantly.
Klaus decided to intervene before Wilhelm could dig himself any deeper. "Wilhelm, here's what we actually know about Potter: He's twelve years old, he makes decent talismans, and he just signed a lucrative contract with Italy. That makes him a player in international magical politics."
"Exactly!" Wilhelm nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! A dangerous player with magical... player abilities!"
"That makes no sense," Greta pointed out.
"It doesn't have to make sense," Wilhelm replied with the confidence of someone who had completely lost the thread of the conversation. "It just has to... work!"
Klaus realized that Wilhelm was like a broken clock - occasionally correct by accident, but generally useless for telling time.
"Wilhelm, here's what you're going to do," Klaus said firmly. "You're going to write a normal, comprehensible memo about the political implications of Potter's contract. Use small words. Be specific. And stop calling everything 'magical' - we're all wizards here."
"But what about the magical threat of his magical talismans?" Wilhelm asked plaintively.
"The only threat," Klaus replied dryly, "The only threat is that other countries might recruit him before we figure out if he's useful to us."
"Ah!" Wilhelm's eyes lit up with understanding. "So we should recruit him first and then figure out if he's useful!"
"Nein (No)."
Abyssantica Royal Palace - Council Chamber
The luminescent coral walls of the royal council chamber pulsed with gentle blue light as Princess Crystal-Harmony glided beside her father, King Anden, toward the designated meeting area. Her sea horse lower body moved through the water currents, while her human-like torso remained perfectly poised despite her excitement about the upcoming surface visit.
"Remember, ma fille," King Anden said in their melodic underwater language, his regal bearing evident even in the fluid environment, "this surface dweller comes with important information about your journey to the dry lands."
Crystal-Harmony nodded, her long hair floating around her like liquid silver. "I understand, Papa. I will act like a proper princess."
A shimmering magical barrier appeared at the chamber's center, creating an air pocket where the French representative could breathe. Madame Céleste Rousseau materialized within the enchanted space, her elegant robes somehow remaining perfectly dry despite being surrounded by ocean water. Her translator, a elderly wizard with gills grafted behind his ears, floated beside the barrier.
"Your Majesties," the translator spoke in the royal sea horse language, his voice carrying Madame Rousseau's words with precision, "Minister Delacour sends his respectful greetings and congratulations on the approaching historic moment."
King Anden inclined his massive head graciously. "We are honored by France's continued friendship and assistance in this endeavor."
Madame Rousseau spoke again, her eyes bright with excitement, and the translator continued: "Madame Rousseau brings news that will particularly interest the Princess. The young wizard Harry Potter—the one who visited your kingdom and befriended Her Royal Highness—has achieved another remarkable success."
Crystal-Harmony's heart leaped like a school of startled fish. "Harry? What news of Harry?"
"He has created an enhanced version of his protective talismans," the translator relayed. "The Italian Ministry has purchased them for forty thousand Galleons. His innovations continue to amaze the surface magical world."
Pure joy flooded through Crystal-Harmony, her ice magic responding to her emotions by creating delicate frost patterns in the water around her. "He continues to achieve such wonderful things! I knew his gifts would bring him great success."
"The Princess shows great faith in her surface friend," King Anden observed with paternal amusement.
"Indeed," the translator continued Madame Rousseau's words, "which brings us to more pressing matters. Madame Rousseau has come to discuss the practical aspects of your surface journey, Your Highness."
Crystal-Harmony straightened, her expression becoming more serious. "I am ready to hear her guidance."
Madame Rousseau's expression grew concerned as the translator relayed her words: "The Madame wishes to warn you about the physical challenges of surface walking. Even experienced magical people who spend extended time underwater require significant adjustment periods when returning to land."
"How significant?" King Anden asked.
"Typically one week minimum for wizards and witches to regain proper land mobility," came the translated response. "For someone who has never walked on solid ground before... the adjustment may be even more challenging."
Crystal-Harmony felt a flutter of nervousness but pushed it aside. "I have been practicing with the mobility spells your mages provided. Surely that will help?"
"The spells will enable you to maintain human form on land," the translator explained, "but your muscles and balance systems have never experienced gravity and solid surfaces. Madame Rousseau strongly recommends accepting the assistance we've prepared."
"What kind of assistance?" King Anden inquired.
"French Ministry healers specializing in aquatic-to-terrestrial transitions, mobility aids if needed, and private practice areas where you can adjust without public observation," the translator listed. "We want your first surface experience to be as comfortable as possible."
Crystal-Harmony's excitement returned, overriding her concerns. "When Harry sees me walk on land for the first time, I want to do so with dignity and grace."
"Ah," the translator smiled slightly, "Madame Rousseau suspected the young Monsieur Potter might be motivation for your surface visit. She is pleased to confirm that he has been invited to witness your historic first steps."
The ice patterns around Crystal-Harmony intensified, creating a dazzling display of crystalline beauty. "He will be there? Truly?"
"The French Ministry has extended a formal invitation," the translator confirmed. "Your friend who helped with the Royal Sea Horse crisis will be present for your momentous achievement."
King Anden watched his daughter's joy with fond understanding. "Then we shall accept all offered assistance, so that our daughter may make the best possible impression during this historic moment."
"Excellent," the translator relayed. "Madame Rousseau will coordinate all preparations. The surface world eagerly awaits meeting the Princess who commands ice magic and wins the friendship of remarkable young wizards."
As the meeting concluded, Crystal-Harmony's heart sang like a coral castle. Harry would be there to see her take her first steps on dry land; she still remembered...ahhh...the letter she had sent him. During Christmas...She wasn't sure yet what that meant, but she knew one thing for sure.
The surface world, and Harry Potter, awaited.
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