**Gringotts Wizarding Bank - Private Conference Room - 4:23 PM EST**
As Penny gathered her diplomatic materials with the efficient precision of someone about to initiate complex international legal proceedings that would probably give several governments headaches, Griphook cleared his throat with the kind of careful attention that suggested he had additional matters to discuss—matters that were likely to be either very expensive or very complicated, possibly both.
"Mr. Stark, Master Harry," he said with the formal courtesy that goblins had perfected over centuries of dealing with wealthy wizarding families who had more money than sense, "there is one additional item mentioned in the Potter will that you should be aware of. James and Lily Potter left specific instructions that certain personal materials should be passed to Harry when he came of age, or earlier if circumstances warranted direct access to family resources."
Tony looked up from his contemplation of how exactly one went about overturning magical court decisions and pursuing justice across international magical jurisdictions without accidentally starting a diplomatic war. His expression carried that particular mixture of curiosity and concern that meant he was prepared for either fascinating discoveries or expensive complications.
"What kind of personal materials?" he asked, his voice carrying the tone of someone who'd learned to be suspicious of vague terms when dealing with organizations that operated outside conventional legal frameworks. "Because if we're talking about magical artifacts that could accidentally level half of Manhattan, I'd prefer some advance warning."
Griphook's sharp features showed what might have been amusement mixed with professional respect. In his centuries of managing magical family accounts, he'd rarely encountered clients who approached inherited magical items with such practical caution.
"Research journals," he replied, his voice carrying the kind of reverence usually reserved for discussing priceless artifacts or dangerous weapons—which, in the magical world, often turned out to be the same thing. "Both James and Lily Potter were accomplished magical researchers who documented their work extensively. The will specifies that these journals should be provided to Harry to help him understand his magical heritage and continue their research legacy."
Harry's face immediately lit up with the kind of pure excitement that made Tony's chest tight with protective pride mixed with barely controlled panic. He recognized that expression—it was the same look Harry got when confronted with complex engineering problems or theoretical physics challenges that shouldn't be solvable by someone who wasn't old enough to drive.
"My parents' research journals?" Harry asked, his voice carrying that crisp British accent that seemed to make even casual questions sound like scholarly inquiries. "Their actual work and theories and discoveries? The primary source materials for their magical innovations?"
His green eyes blazed with intellectual hunger that would have been impressive in a graduate student and was somewhat alarming in someone who was nearly seven years old.
"Indeed," Griphook confirmed, withdrawing two leather-bound volumes from what appeared to be a specially warded section of his portfolio that was definitely larger on the inside than physically possible. "James Potter's journal focuses primarily on Transfiguration theory, advanced magical applications, and what he rather modestly termed 'practical innovation projects.' Lily Potter's journal contains extensive research in Charms, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Potions theory, and several rather ambitious theoretical frameworks that pushed the boundaries of contemporary magical understanding."
He placed both journals on the obsidian table with ceremonial care, and Tony could immediately see that they were beautiful pieces of craftsmanship—rich leather covers embossed with protective symbols that seemed to shift and change when viewed directly, gilt-edged pages that caught the light with unusual brilliance, and metal clasps that looked like they required specific magical signatures to open.
"The journals are protected by blood wards keyed to the Potter family line," Griphook continued with the professional satisfaction of someone explaining security measures that would make Fort Knox weep with inadequacy. "Only Harry can open them, and they contain protective enchantments that prevent unauthorized copying, theft, or damage. The preservation charms alone are worth more than most people's annual salaries."
Harry reached toward his father's journal with careful reverence, his small fingers tracing the embossed symbols on the cover with the kind of respectful attention usually reserved for handling priceless historical artifacts.
"It's beautiful," he said softly, his voice carrying wonder and something deeper—the recognition that he was about to connect with parents he'd never known through their intellectual legacy. "The craftsmanship is extraordinary. These symbols... they're not just decorative, are they? They're functional magical circuits integrated into the binding structure."
"Very good," Griphook said with obvious approval. "Most wizards never notice the functional aspects of magical bookbinding. These journals are essentially portable magical laboratories—they can preserve research materials indefinitely, cross-reference information automatically, and even provide limited analytical capabilities."
When Harry touched the metal clasp, it opened with a soft click that seemed to resonate with magical significance, accompanied by a gentle warmth that suggested the journal recognized its rightful owner.
The first page contained an inscription in bold, confident handwriting that somehow managed to convey both parental love and mischievous humor: *"For my son Harry—may you find in these pages not just knowledge, but the joy of discovery and the satisfaction of using intelligence to help others. Try not to get expelled from whatever school you attend, but if you do, make sure it's for something spectacular. Your mother and I are proud of you, whatever path you choose to follow. —James Potter, Master of Mischief and Occasional Scholar"*
Tony felt something tighten in his throat as he watched Harry read his father's words, the boy's green eyes bright with emotion and growing wonder. There was something profound about watching a child discover that his parents had loved him enough to leave pieces of themselves behind.
"He sounds like he had an excellent sense of priorities," Harry said with a smile that managed to be both touched and slightly mischievous. "Academic achievement combined with spectacular rule-breaking when circumstances warrant it. I can respect that approach to education."
Tony's grin was immediate and proud. "Kid, something tells me you inherited more than just your parents' magical abilities."
Harry turned the page and immediately began reading with the focused intensity that Tony recognized as his standard approach to fascinating new information. But as he progressed through the entries, his expression shifted from scholarly interest to growing amazement mixed with what looked suspiciously like delighted recognition.
"Oh, this is brilliant," he said, looking up with obvious excitement that made his green eyes practically glow with enthusiasm. "Dad, my father's journal isn't just research notes. It's... it's absolutely brilliant practical applications combined with what appear to be rather sophisticated pranking innovations that demonstrate genuinely advanced magical theory."
"Pranking innovations?" Tony raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to something between intrigue and parental concern. "Should I be worried about inheriting a family tradition of elaborate practical jokes?"
"Listen to this," Harry said, reading directly from the journal with growing enthusiasm that suggested James Potter's approach to magical education had been considerably more entertaining than conventional academic methods. "'Successfully modified the standard Tickling Hex to respond to specific verbal triggers, allowing for delayed activation and targeted deployment. The charm work required was extraordinarily complex, involving layered trigger mechanisms and precise magical signature recognition. Padfoot found this particularly amusing during Transfiguration class, though McGonagall was less impressed with our innovative approach to classroom participation. Note: Perhaps avoid using Prongs as the activation word when Professor McGonagall is lecturing about responsible magic use.'"
Tony burst out laughing despite himself. "Your father programmed delayed-activation tickling spells? That's either brilliant engineering applied to practical jokes, or the most elaborate waste of magical talent in history."
"Oh, it gets much better," Harry continued, flipping through several more pages with obvious delight. "And here: 'Made significant progress on the theoretical framework for human Transfiguration applications. The mathematics involved in safely altering biological systems are extraordinarily complex, but I believe I've identified the key principles for temporary, reversible changes that maintain the subject's consciousness and essential identity throughout the transformation process. Successfully tested the hair color modification charm on myself—Lily was not entirely pleased with the bright purple results, though she admitted the magical theory was sound.'"
Tony leaned forward with growing interest, his engineer's mind immediately engaging with the theoretical complexity being described. "That sounds like rather advanced theoretical biology combined with what I assume are extraordinarily complex energy manipulation techniques. Your father was essentially developing biotechnology using magical principles."
"The applications would be remarkable," Harry said with obvious admiration for his father's innovative approach. "Temporary biological modifications for medical purposes, enhanced physical capabilities for dangerous situations, possibly even therapeutic applications for genetic disorders. The potential benefits to society could be extraordinary."
"It gets more interesting," Harry continued, his voice carrying the kind of wonder that came from discovering genuinely innovative solutions to impossible problems. "There are detailed notes about something called 'Animagus transformation'—apparently the ability to transform into a specific animal form through advanced Transfiguration techniques that require perfect understanding of both human and animal biology combined with absolute precision in magical energy manipulation."
"Animagus transformation," Griphook said with obvious respect that bordered on professional reverence, "is one of the most complex magical abilities a wizard can master. It requires years of intensive study, perfect understanding of both human and animal biology, absolutely precise control over transfiguration magic, and the kind of mental discipline that most wizards never achieve. Most wizards who attempt it fail entirely, and mistakes can be... permanently disfiguring, occasionally fatal, and always embarrassing to explain to the medical staff."
"But my father succeeded?" Harry asked with obvious pride mixed with academic curiosity about the technical details involved.
"According to his journal entries, yes," Griphook confirmed with the tone of someone who'd seen the documented evidence and remained impressed. "Though he was unregistered, which was technically illegal but quite common among young wizards who preferred to avoid Ministry documentation of their abilities. The Ministry tends to be rather bureaucratic about advanced magical capabilities."
Harry continued reading with growing fascination, his analytical mind clearly cataloguing the scope and sophistication of his father's work with the kind of systematic thoroughness that would have made university researchers envious.
"He describes the entire process," Harry said with obvious wonder. "Months of theoretical study, detailed analysis of animal biology, careful calibration of the transformation magic, practice sessions that apparently involved several rather embarrassing partial transformations..." He paused, his eyes widening as he absorbed specific information. "His form was a Stag. And he wasn't alone. His friends were doing it too."
"Which friends?" Tony asked, though his expression suggested he probably already knew the answer and wasn't entirely sure he wanted confirmation.
"Sirius Black—his Animagus form was a large black dog, apparently quite impressive and rather intimidating when circumstances required it," Harry read with growing excitement. "Peter Pettigrew transformed into a rat, which seems somehow appropriate given recent revelations about his character. And they were all doing it to help their friend Remus Lupin, who was..."
Harry's expression grew more serious as he processed this revelation, his scholarly excitement tempered by recognition of the profound loyalty and sacrifice involved.
"Remus Lupin was a werewolf," he said quietly, his voice carrying mature understanding that was remarkable for someone his age. "And my father and his friends became Animagi so they could safely accompany him during his transformations, because werewolves don't attack animals the same way they attack humans. They spent years mastering one of the most difficult magical abilities in existence, solely to help a friend who was suffering."
"That's remarkably brave and loyal," Tony said softly, feeling a surge of pride for the young man who had become Harry's father mixed with profound respect for the kind of friendship that would motivate such extraordinary effort and risk. "And incredibly dangerous. They were essentially conducting unsupervised magical experiments that could have killed them, all to help someone they cared about."
"But absolutely brilliant," Harry added with obvious admiration that lit up his entire face. "They identified a complex problem—their friend's lycanthropy causing him to suffer in isolation every month—and they developed an advanced magical solution that required years of intensive study, considerable personal risk, and the kind of innovative thinking that most adult wizards never achieve. It's exactly the kind of practical problem-solving that I find most admirable."
He continued flipping through the journal, his excitement building as he discovered more entries that revealed the scope of his father's magical innovations.
"And there's something else," he said with growing wonder that made his voice almost breathless with excitement. "They created what they called the Marauder's Map—a complete, detailed, real-time map of Hogwarts School that shows not just the physical layout and architectural details, but the location and identity of every person in the building, plus secret passages, hidden rooms, and even areas that are normally protected by concealment charms and advanced ward systems."
"A complete surveillance and reconnaissance system disguised as a simple map," Tony said with obvious appreciation for the innovation involved, his engineer's mind immediately grasping the technical complexity required. "That's remarkably sophisticated magical engineering. The integration requirements alone would be staggering."
"The magical theory alone would be extraordinary," Harry continued, reading detailed technical notes with obvious fascination and growing respect for his father's abilities. "Real-time location tracking across an entire castle, magical signature identification for individual recognition, structural mapping that updates automatically when the building changes, protective ward circumvention that doesn't trigger security alerts... this represents successful integration of at least six different advanced magical disciplines operating simultaneously without interference."
Griphook was watching this discussion with what appeared to be professional interest mixed with growing respect for both the technical analysis and the family legacy being revealed.
"The Marauder's Map sounds like a legendary artefact," he said with the tone of someone sharing historical information that was both fascinating and slightly concerning. "Though most researchers would have assumed it was the work of a graduate-level research team, possibly with Ministry backing, not four teenage students conducting unauthorized magical research in their spare time."
"Because four teenage students shouldn't have been capable of that level of magical innovation," Tony said thoughtfully, his pride in Harry's intellectual inheritance mixing with growing concern about the expectations that might be placed on someone who'd inherited such remarkable abilities. "Which suggests that Harry's father possessed truly exceptional intelligence and creativity along with his magical abilities."
"And apparently a comprehensive disregard for conventional limitations on what teenagers should be capable of achieving," Harry added with obvious approval and what might have been anticipation for his own educational career. "I find his approach to academic achievement rather inspiring."
Tony looked at his son with a mixture of pride and mild alarm. "Harry, please tell me you're not planning to follow in your father's footsteps regarding elaborate rule-breaking and unauthorized magical experimentation."
Harry's smile was pure innocence combined with just enough mischief to make Tony slightly nervous. "Dad, I would never engage in unauthorized magical experimentation. However, I might be interested in properly authorized magical experimentation that happens to push the boundaries of conventional educational expectations."
"That's what I was afraid of," Tony muttered, though his grin suggested he wasn't entirely displeased by his son's ambitious approach to education.
Harry was now examining his mother's journal with equal excitement, and his expression immediately shifted to something approaching scholarly rapture as he absorbed the contents of what was clearly a very different kind of magical research.
"Mum's research is..." he breathed, his voice filled with awe that made the simple words carry profound meaning. "It's absolutely extraordinary. Look at this—advanced Charms theory that goes well beyond anything in contemporary textbooks, detailed Arithmancy calculations that demonstrate genuinely innovative mathematical approaches, Ancient Runes analysis that reveals connections between magical languages that nobody else has documented, and Potions research that goes far beyond anything I've seen in the basic textbooks Penny provided."
He flipped through several pages, his analytical mind clearly cataloguing the scope and sophistication of Lily Potter's work with the kind of systematic appreciation that would have made peer reviewers weep with professional envy.
"She wasn't just studying magic," Harry continued with growing excitement. "She was innovating, pushing boundaries, developing entirely new theoretical frameworks for understanding how magical energy interacts with physical systems. This is genuinely groundbreaking research that could revolutionize multiple fields of magical study."
"What kind of applications was she working on?" Pepper asked, her practical mind immediately focusing on the real-world implications of advanced magical research.
"She was working on what appears to be a cure for lycanthropy," Harry said with growing excitement that made his voice bright with possibility. "Not just a treatment or a management system, but an actual cure—a potion that would permanently remove the werewolf curse while maintaining the subject's enhanced physical capabilities without the dangerous transformation aspects. The theoretical framework is absolutely brilliant, and she'd made significant progress toward a working formula before..."
He trailed off, his voice growing quieter as the implications sank in and the excitement was tempered by the reality of loss.
"Before she died," Tony finished gently, his own voice soft with recognition of the tragedy involved. "Harry, your mother was working on a cure for werewolves. She was trying to help people like Remus Lupin and probably thousands of others who suffer from magical curses."
"She was trying to help everyone," Harry said softly, his eyes bright with pride and something that might have been grief for the parents he'd never known but was coming to understand and admire. "Her research wasn't just academic curiosity—it was all focused on practical applications that would improve people's lives and solve real problems that cause genuine suffering."
He continued reading with growing enthusiasm, his scholarly excitement gradually overcoming the emotional weight of connecting with his parents' intellectual legacy.
"But this is the most fascinating part," he said, his voice carrying the kind of wonder that meant he'd discovered something truly extraordinary that was about to change everything. "She has extensive theoretical notes about creating what she calls 'magical artificial consciousness'—essentially, a magical equivalent to artificial intelligence that could think, learn, and develop independently using magical energy as the foundational framework rather than electronic processing systems."
Tony's attention immediately snapped to complete focus, his engineer's instincts engaging with the kind of intensity that meant major breakthrough discoveries were imminent. "Magical AI? Your mother was working on artificial intelligence using magical principles?"
"She was exploring the theoretical possibility of creating genuine consciousness using magical energy as the foundation rather than conventional electronic processing systems," Harry read with building excitement that made his words tumble together with scholarly enthusiasm. "Look at these calculations—consciousness simulation algorithms, personality matrix development frameworks, learning algorithm architectures, memory integration systems, even emotional response modeling... The mathematical complexity is extraordinary, but the theoretical foundation is absolutely sound."
He looked up at Tony with eyes that blazed with inspiration and possibility that seemed to light up the entire conference room.
"Dad, she was trying to create magical AI systems that could think, learn, and develop independently while maintaining genuine emotional intelligence and creative problem-solving capabilities. The applications would be extraordinary—research assistants that could process both magical and scientific information simultaneously, educational systems that could adapt to individual learning styles and provide personalized instruction, even companions that could provide emotional support and intellectual stimulation for people who need it."
Tony felt that familiar electric thrill of approaching major discovery, the sensation that had driven every significant breakthrough in his career and was now being triggered by his son's casual description of revolutionary technological possibilities.
"Harry," he said carefully, his voice tight with controlled excitement, "exactly how detailed are these theoretical frameworks? Are we talking about general concepts, or actual implementation specifications?"
"Very detailed," Harry replied with growing excitement that suggested he understood the implications of what he was describing. "Mathematical models, energy calculations, consciousness simulation algorithms, personality development protocols... she'd worked out most of the fundamental principles and had begun preliminary testing on basic magical consciousness frameworks before she died. This isn't theoretical speculation—this is advanced research that was approaching practical implementation."
He paused, his brilliant mind clearly racing through possibilities and applications with the kind of systematic analysis that would have impressed graduate research teams.
"Dad, what if we could combine Mum's magical AI research with your technological AI expertise?" Harry asked with the kind of focused intensity that meant he was already formulating comprehensive project plans. "JARVIS is already showing signs of supernatural sensitivity since we started working with magical systems. What if we could create a hybrid AI that operates using both magical and technological principles simultaneously? The capabilities would be unprecedented."
"That would be..." Tony struggled to find adequate words for the implications, his engineer's mind racing through possibilities that bordered on science fiction. "That would be revolutionary. Unprecedented. Possibly the most significant advancement in artificial intelligence research in human history. We'd be creating something that's genuinely alive in ways that conventional AI systems can never achieve."
"And I know exactly what we should call her," Harry said with the kind of confident decision-making that meant he'd already thought through the entire project with comprehensive thoroughness. "LILY—Living Intelligence Learning Yearning. Because she would be genuinely alive and intelligent and constantly learning and growing, always reaching for new knowledge and understanding, just like Mum would have wanted."
Tony stared at his son, feeling pride and amazement and something approaching awe at the extraordinary mind that could absorb advanced magical theory, connect it with cutting-edge technology, and immediately begin planning revolutionary applications that would change both worlds forever.
"Harry," he said softly, his voice rough with emotion, "your parents would be incredibly proud of you. And so am I."
"Thank you," Harry replied with quiet emotion that carried depths of feeling that seemed impossible in someone so young, then his expression brightened with renewed enthusiasm that lit up his entire face. "But Dad, think about the possibilities! LILY could help with research in both magical and technological areas. She could serve as an interface between magical and scientific communities, helping bridge the gap between two worlds that have been artificially separated for too long. She could even help other magical families integrate with the technological world, providing guidance and support for people who are trying to navigate both systems simultaneously."
"Plus," Tony added with growing excitement that matched his son's enthusiasm, "she could help us understand the theoretical frameworks needed for magical-technological hybrid systems. LILY could be the key to everything we're trying to accomplish—the bridge between magic and science that makes integration not just possible, but natural and beneficial."
As they sat in the secure conference room deep within Gringotts Bank, surrounded by documents that revealed both injustices that needed correction and discoveries that could change the world, Tony looked at his son and felt a surge of anticipation for the extraordinary future they were going to build together.
The past had given them knowledge, inspiration, and purpose. The present was providing opportunities and resources. And the future...
The future was going to be absolutely incredible.
---
**Meanwhile, at MACUSA Headquarters - Presidential Office - 4:47 PM EST**
President Seraphina Picquery moved around her office like a panther whose territory had been invaded by incompetent trespassers who had somehow managed to insult her intelligence, threaten her citizens, and violate international law all while maintaining the kind of bureaucratic arrogance that made her want to demonstrate exactly why crossing American magical authority was a career-limiting decision.
Her midnight-blue robes swished with the kind of controlled fury that made smart diplomats reconsider their career choices while suggesting alternative employment in less dangerous fields, like dragon wrangling or explosive disposal. The urgent report from Penny crackled with magical energy in her perfectly manicured hands, its contents growing more inflammatory with each revelation that painted British magical justice as either criminally incompetent or deliberately corrupt.
"Percival!" her voice exploded through the building's communication charms with enough raw authority to make the protective wards hum in sympathetic resonance while causing several junior staff members to drop their coffee and wonder if they should start updating their résumés. "Get your stubborn, coffee-addicted, justice-obsessed ass in here immediately, and bring everyone from the International Magical Legal Department who isn't currently pursuing other war criminals or dealing with diplomatic emergencies that could destabilize international magical relations!"
The heavy oak doors didn't just open—they burst inward with enough force to rattle the magical portraits on the walls as Percival Graves entered like a man preparing for battle, his weathered face immediately locking onto Picquery's expression with the kind of tactical assessment that had kept him alive through decades of dangerous magical law enforcement operations.
His steel-gray eyes swept the office with professional efficiency, cataloguing potential threats and calculating response strategies while his right hand rested casually near his wand holster with the automatic readiness of someone who'd learned that paranoia was a survival skill rather than a character flaw.
"What fresh hell has British magical politics dumped in our jurisdiction now?" he asked with characteristic bluntness, his Brooklyn accent thick with the kind of professional irritation that usually preceded spectacularly unpleasant consequences for whoever had made the mistake of attracting MACUSA's attention. "Because the way you're pacing around here like a caged tiger, I'm guessing it's either really bad, really stupid, or both."
"Worse than incompetence," Picquery replied with ice-cold fury that could have flash-frozen champagne, handing him the report with sharp, precise movements that suggested she was working very hard to maintain professional composure instead of doing something that would require extensive diplomatic cleanup. "We're looking at judicial corruption, systematic abuse of power, wrongful imprisonment of innocent citizens, and what appears to be a deliberate cover-up that's resulted in an innocent man spending five years in Azkaban while the actual traitor remained free to potentially commit additional crimes."
Graves read through the report with growing amazement and professional outrage, his expression cycling through disbelief, anger, and the kind of grim satisfaction that came from finally understanding why certain situations had never made sense to people with functioning brain cells.
"Jesus Christ on a broomstick," he muttered, his voice thick with disgust that would have made longshoremen proud. "Dumbledore suspended the Potter will without proper legal authority, ignored the explicit guardianship instructions left by the victims, and sent an innocent man to Azkaban based on circumstantial evidence while the actual Secret Keeper disappeared without proper investigation. This is either criminal incompetence or deliberate corruption, and I'm not sure which possibility is more offensive."
"It gets better," Picquery said with savage satisfaction that suggested she was looking forward to the diplomatic chaos that was about to ensue. "Peter Pettigrew, the actual traitor who betrayed the Potter family to Voldemort, has been living as an unregistered Animagus for five years. He's been hiding in his rat form, probably with another magical family who has no idea they're harboring a war criminal, completely free while Sirius Black suffers in a prison specifically designed to destroy people's sanity and hope."
"And now Tony Stark—a man with unlimited resources, personal connections to multiple world governments, a well-documented tendency to pursue justice with spectacular thoroughness, and absolutely zero patience for bureaucratic incompetence—wants us to overturn this entire clusterfuck and hold everyone responsible accountable for their actions," Graves said with the tone of someone who could see multiple international incidents approaching at high speed.
"Precisely," Picquery confirmed with predatory anticipation that suggested she was rather looking forward to the diplomatic confrontation that was about to begin. "Percival, I want full legal action initiated immediately. International magical legal protocols, emergency jurisdiction procedures, diplomatic pressure through every available channel, and enough political firepower to make the British Ministry wish they'd never heard of magical justice."
Graves was already reaching for his secure communication array, his tactical mind working through the complex logistics required for international magical law enforcement actions that would probably result in several diplomatic incidents and possibly a few international legal precedents.
"What's our legal standing?" he asked while activating encrypted communication charms that connected directly to MACUSA's legal department, international affairs division, and the offices of several very expensive lawyers who specialized in the kind of cases that made legal textbooks.
"Harry Potter is now an American magical citizen under our protection and jurisdiction," Picquery replied with complete certainty and the kind of legal authority that could move mountains and overturn governments. "His legal guardian—a man with more money than several small countries and enough political connections to make international law enforcement a personal hobby—is requesting assistance in correcting wrongful imprisonment and pursuing justice for crimes committed against his family. We have full authority to act, complete legal justification for intervention, and enough political backing to make this very unpleasant for anyone who objects."
"And if the British Ministry objects to our interference in their internal judicial matters?" Graves asked, though his grin suggested he was rather hoping they would be stupid enough to object.
Picquery's smile was sharp enough to cut through diplomatic immunity while leaving wounds that would never heal properly. "Then they can explain to the International Confederation of Wizards why they've been harboring magical war criminals while imprisoning innocent victims. I'm sure the international magical community will be absolutely fascinated by their innovative approach to justice and legal procedure, especially the part where they ignore explicit legal documents and imprison people without proper trials."
She moved to her secure communication array, her fingers dancing across controls that activated direct channels to magical governments, law enforcement agencies, and diplomatic offices throughout the civilized world.
"I'm also going to personally contact the French Ministry, the German Magical Authority, the Spanish Magical Council, and every other major magical government that has mutual legal assistance treaties with both Britain and America," she continued with the kind of systematic thoroughness that suggested she'd been planning this diplomatic offensive for years. "By tomorrow morning, the British Ministry is going to be answering some very uncomfortable questions about their approach to international magical law, and Albus Dumbledore is going to discover that abusing judicial authority has consequences when it affects American magical citizens."
As secure communication channels opened to legal departments, international magical courts, and diplomatic offices throughout the magical world, both Picquery and Graves felt the familiar satisfaction of pursuing justice with the full resources of American magical authority behind them and the growing certainty that this was going to be extremely unpleasant for everyone who had contributed to this travesty.
"You know what the best part of this is?" Graves asked with the kind of satisfaction that usually preceded spectacular professional victories.
"What's that?" Picquery replied, though her expression suggested she already knew the answer.
"Sirius Black is about to be freed by American magical intervention, which means he's going to owe his freedom to Tony Stark's resources and determination. Peter Pettigrew is about to be captured by international magical law enforcement, which means he's going to face justice in multiple jurisdictions simultaneously. And Albus Dumbledore is about to learn that abusing judicial power has consequences when you mess with people who have better lawyers than you do."
"Plus," Picquery added with predatory satisfaction, "Tony Stark is going to be extremely grateful to MACUSA for helping him rescue Harry's godfather, which means we're going to have the friendship and support of one of the most influential men in the nomaj world. The long-term benefits to American magical interests could be extraordinary."
As the wheels of international magical justice began turning with the kind of efficiency that only came from having unlimited resources and absolute legal authority behind them, both officials felt the deep satisfaction of knowing that justice was about to be served with spectacular thoroughness.
Sirius Black was about to be freed.
Peter Pettigrew was about to be captured.
And everyone responsible for this travesty of justice was about to learn why interfering with American magical citizens was a career-limiting decision that could have permanent consequences for their professional and political futures.
The wheels of magical justice were about to turn with spectacular efficiency, and the results were going to be absolutely devastating for anyone who had contributed to this injustice.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!