The lift carried them smoothly upward through the Ministry's gleaming shaft, and Harry found himself genuinely curious about what they'd encounter in the Experimental Charms department. Arthur had mentioned "energetic" projects with potential eyebrow hazards, which suggested the sort of magical research that either produced revolutionary breakthroughs or spectacular disasters—sometimes both simultaneously.
"Level Two," the cool female voice announced as the lift shuddered to a halt. "Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Incorporeal Being Division, Pest Advisory Board, and Experimental Charms."
The doors opened to reveal a corridor that looked significantly different from the formal grandeur of the Ministry atrium. Here, the walls were lined with what appeared to be blast-resistant panels, and Harry could hear the distinctive sounds of magical experimentation echoing from various offices—crackling energy, muffled explosions, and the occasional cry of either triumph or dismay.
"Right then," Arthur said cheerfully as he led them down the corridor, "welcome to where Ministry innovation actually happens. Fair warning: the researchers here tend to be rather... enthusiastic about their work."
The first thing Harry noticed was the smell—a complex mixture of ozone, singed parchment, and something that reminded him unpleasantly of Lockhart's hair pomade. The second thing he noticed was that several of the office doors bore scorch marks and what appeared to be impact craters.
Either they're working on genuinely dangerous magic, Harry thought with growing interest, or the Experimental Charms department has the worst safety record in magical government.
"Arthur!" a voice called from an open doorway ahead. "Perfect timing! We're just about to test the latest iteration of the Defensive Barrier Enhancement Project."
The voice belonged to a witch who looked to be in her forties, with wild gray-streaked hair that seemed to have been styled by exposure to magical explosions and robes that bore the stains of experimental spellwork. Her eyes held the sort of manic gleam that Harry associated with people who genuinely enjoyed playing with dangerous magic.
"Excellent," Arthur replied with what seemed like genuine enthusiasm. "Everyone, I'd like you to introduce you to Lysander Kaine, Senior Researcher in Defensive Magics. Lysander, this is Harry Potter and his family—Ted and Andromeda Tonks, and their daughter Nymphadora."
Lysander's attention immediately focused on Harry with laser-like focus. "Harry Potter? The talisman prodigy? My word, this is unexpected! I've been following your work through the evaluation reports—absolutely fascinating integration of runic matrices with organic magical materials."
"Thank you," Harry replied, genuinely pleased by the professional recognition. "Though I have to admit, I'm more interested in practical applications than theoretical elegance."
"Practical applications," Lysander repeated with obvious approval. "Exactly the right attitude! Too many researchers get caught up in academic purity and forget that magic is meant to solve real problems. Come, you simply must see what we're working on."
She led them into a workshop that looked like a cross between a magical laboratory and a demolition site. Workbenches lined the walls, covered with an array of magical instruments, half-finished projects, and what appeared to be the remnants of previous experiments that had ended poorly. In the center of the room, a large clear area had been marked off with warning runes that practically hummed with protective energy.
"We're developing enhanced barrier charms for Auror operations," Lysander explained, her excitement obvious. "The traditional Protean Charm works well enough for basic defense, but it's useless against coordinated attacks or sustained magical assault."
Harry's interest sharpened immediately. This was exactly the sort of innovation that could complement his talisman work—defensive magic that could work in conjunction with his protection devices rather than competing with them.
"What's the theoretical basis?" he asked, moving closer to examine the runic arrays carved into the testing area's floor.
"Layered magical resonance," Lysander replied, clearly delighted to have found someone who understood the technical aspects. "Instead of creating a single barrier, we're generating multiple overlapping fields that reinforce each other. Each layer operates on a different magical frequency, so breaking through requires simultaneously disrupting multiple harmonics."
Nymphadora leaned forward with obvious curiosity. "How do you prevent the different frequencies from interfering with each other? Wouldn't magical resonance create feedback loops?"
Lysander's eyes widened with surprise and approval. "Excellent question! Most people don't immediately grasp the resonance problem. We're using harmonic dampening fields to prevent interference—essentially magical shock absorbers that regulate the interaction between layers."
Harry studied the runic configurations with growing appreciation for their complexity. The theoretical framework was sound, but he could see several potential improvements based on his own experience with magical protection systems.
"Have you considered using adaptive frequency modulation?" he asked thoughtfully. "If the barrier layers could adjust their resonance in response to incoming attacks, they'd be much harder to disrupt systematically."
The room went very quiet, and Harry looked up to find Lysander staring at him with the sort of expression usually reserved for religious revelations.
"Adaptive frequency modulation," she repeated slowly. "Merlin's beard, that's... that's brilliant. Dynamic defensive responses rather than static protection. Why didn't we think of that?"
"Because," said a new voice from the doorway, "you lot get so caught up in the theoretical elegance that you forget to think like the people trying to break your toys."
Harry turned to see a man who looked like he'd stepped out of a textbook illustration of "Dangerous Magical Researcher." He was tall and lean, with prematurely white hair and hands that bore the sort of scars that came from handling volatile magical materials. His robes were practical gray, reinforced with protective charms that were visible as faint silver threads in the fabric.
"Everyone," Arthur said with obvious amusement, "meet Aldric Thornfield, Senior Curse-Breaker and the department's resident pessimist."
"Realist," Aldric corrected with a grin that suggested he'd had this argument before. "And you must be the Potter boy who's been making our Aurors harder to kill. Good work, by the way—Moody speaks very highly of your talismans."
"Thank you," Harry replied, though something about Aldric's manner suggested this was leading somewhere specific.
"I'm curious," Aldric continued, moving to examine the barrier array. "Your talismans work on absorption and redirection principles, correct? Store incoming magical energy and release it as defensive measures?"
"Among other things, yes," Harry confirmed, wondering where this line of questioning was heading.
"Ever run into problems with magical overload? Situations where the incoming energy exceeds your storage capacity?"
Harry felt a prickle of professional interest. This was exactly the sort of practical concern that separated theoretical knowledge from real-world application.
"It's a consideration," Harry admitted. "Though my current designs include safety releases to prevent catastrophic failure. Better to lose the talisman than the wearer."
"Smart," Aldric nodded approvingly. "But what if you didn't have to choose? What if excess energy could be channeled somewhere useful instead of just vented?"
Before Harry could respond, Aldric flicked his wand in a complex pattern, and the barrier array in the center of the room began to glow with soft blue light.
"This is where our research gets interesting," Lysander said, her excitement returning. "We're not just working on defensive barriers—we're developing integrated magical defense systems that can absorb, redirect, and utilize incoming hostile magic."
Harry watched with growing fascination as the barrier array demonstrated its capabilities. Lysander cast a series of increasingly powerful attack spells at the central target, and the layered defenses didn't just absorb the energy—they converted it into enhanced protection, brighter illumination, and what appeared to be preparation for counterattack.
"The system learns," Aldric explained with obvious pride. "Each attack teaches it something about the attacker's magical signature. Give it enough data, and it starts predicting attack patterns."
"Have you tested this against coordinated attacks?" Harry asked. "Multiple attackers using different magical approaches?"
"That's actually our biggest challenge," Lysander admitted. "The system works beautifully against individual opponents, but coordinated assault tends to overwhelm the adaptive algorithms."
Harry's mind immediately began working through the problem. His own talisman designs faced similar challenges when dealing with multiple simultaneous threats.
"What if you distributed the processing load?" he suggested. "Instead of one central system trying to track everything, use multiple smaller units that can share information and coordinate responses?"
Nymphadora straightened with sudden interest. "Like a metamorphmagus maintaining multiple transformations simultaneously," she said thoughtfully. "Different aspects of the same core identity adapting to different requirements."
Lysander and Aldric exchanged glances that suggested they were having the same realization simultaneously.
"Distributed magical intelligence," Aldric said slowly. "Multiple specialized subsystems operating under unified strategic coordination."
"Exactly like biological metamorphmagus abilities," Lysander added with growing excitement. "Miss Tonks, would you be willing to participate in some theoretical research? Your insights into magical identity distribution could be invaluable."
Nymphadora looked pleased but also slightly overwhelmed by the sudden professional attention. "I... yes, I'd be honored to help. Though I should mention that most of what I know comes from practical experience rather than theoretical study."
"Practical experience is exactly what we need," Aldric assured her. "Too much of our research is based on theoretical models that don't account for real-world complexity."
Harry's business instincts began prickling as he observed the impressive magical innovations around him. "This is all fascinating work," he said carefully, "but I have to ask—why haven't these developments reached practical implementation yet? The Auror department could certainly benefit from adaptive defensive systems."
Lysander and Aldric exchanged a look that Harry was beginning to recognize as the universal expression of researchers who had encountered bureaucratic reality.
"Ah," Aldric said with carefully diplomatic tone, "that touches on some of the practical challenges we face in translating research into operational capability."
"Meaning?" Ted asked with the sort of direct question that suggested he'd navigated Ministry politics before.
"Well," Lysander began, her enthusiasm dimming slightly, "comprehensive testing requires rather expensive resources. We need specialized magical materials, extensive field trials, and often cooperation from magical creatures with specific abilities."
"The adaptive barrier system alone requires crystallized dragon heartstring, powdered phoenix feather, Dementor's hollow blood, and temporal stability testing that costs approximately three thousand Galleons per iteration," Aldric added. "And that's before we factor in the costs of acquiring willing magical creature subjects for biomagical resonance studies."
"Three thousand Galleons per test?" Harry asked with surprise. His own talisman research had been expensive, but nothing approaching that scale.
"The Ministry operates under certain... fiscal constraints," Aldric said diplomatically, his tone carefully respectful. "Minister Fudge and his advisors have identified priority areas for magical research funding, and I'm afraid experimental defensive systems currently fall somewhat lower on the priority list than other initiatives."
Arthur cleared his throat meaningfully, and Harry caught the subtle warning in his expression. Discussing Ministry budget priorities in detail probably wasn't appropriate for visitors, regardless of how legitimate their interest might be.
"What sort of initiatives take priority?" Nymphadora asked with obvious curiosity.
"Public relations projects, mostly," Lysander said with barely concealed frustration. "Magical transportation improvements, community outreach programs, international diplomatic events. All perfectly worthy causes, of course, but they don't necessarily translate into enhanced magical security."
"The Minister believes in maintaining positive public perception of magical government," Aldric added with the sort of careful phrasing that suggested he was quoting official policy. "Which sometimes means prioritizing visible improvements over behind-the-scenes research that most citizens never see."
Harry absorbed this information with growing understanding of the political complexities involved in magical innovation. His own talisman work had succeeded largely because he'd operated outside traditional government funding structures—a luxury that Ministry researchers didn't enjoy.
"What would it take to accelerate this research?" Harry asked thoughtfully.
"Private funding," Aldric replied immediately, then looked slightly embarrassed by his directness. "Not that we're soliciting investment, you understand. But independent research partnerships have historically been very effective for advancing magical innovation."
"Independent partnerships?" Harry inquired, his business instincts fully engaged now.
"Collaboration between private magical entrepreneurs and Ministry research departments," Lysander explained. "The entrepreneur provides funding and materials, the Ministry provides expertise and testing facilities, and both parties benefit from the resulting innovations."
Harry filed this information away for future consideration. The potential for combining his growing financial resources with Ministry research capabilities was intriguing, though he'd need to understand the political implications more thoroughly.
"Has anyone successfully established such partnerships recently?" Ted asked with obvious professional interest.
"The Cleansweep Broom Company maintains a research agreement with our Transportation Department," Arthur offered. "And Ollivanders occasionally collaborates on wandlore studies. Though nothing quite as comprehensive as what we're discussing."
As they prepared to leave the workshop, Harry reflected that this conversation had revealed as much about Ministry politics as it had about magical research. The tension between innovation and bureaucracy was apparently universal, regardless of whether you were dealing with magical or mundane government.
"Thank you for the demonstration," Harry said sincerely to Lysander and Aldric. "This has been genuinely educational."
"The pleasure was entirely ours," Lysander replied with obvious satisfaction. "It's refreshing to meet someone your age who approaches magic with such intelligence."
"And who understands the business side of magical innovation," Aldric added with a meaningful look. "That's a rare combination in our field."
As they walked back toward the lifts, Arthur looked thoroughly pleased with how the visit had progressed.
"Well done, Harry," he said quietly. "You've just impressed two of the Ministry's most respected magical researchers. That sort of professional recognition carries significant weight in government circles."
And, Harry thought with growing appreciation for the political implications, I've also learned that the Ministry has valuable research capabilities that are being constrained by political priorities rather than technical limitations. That's information worth remembering.
"Though I have to ask," Ted said as they waited for the lift, "what exactly happened to everyone's eyebrows? I noticed several people in that department seemed to be missing them entirely."
Arthur's expression grew distinctly uncomfortable. "Ah, yes. That would be the Eyebrow Incident of last Tuesday. Experimental hair-growth charm that worked rather too well in reverse. Don't worry—they'll grow back. Eventually."
Harry decided that when he eventually established his own magical research facility, he would definitely invest in better safety protocols. And possibly better funding than the Ministry apparently provided for genuinely important magical innovation.
The International Magical Cooperation office occupied an entirely different section of Level Two, and the contrast with the Experimental Charms department was immediately apparent. Where the research wing had felt like controlled chaos, the international office projected an atmosphere of careful diplomacy and meticulous record-keeping. The corridors were lined with portraits of distinguished wizards and witches from various countries, their eyes following visitors with the sort of polite interest that suggested they were probably reporting everything they observed to someone important.
"Much more civilized over here," Arthur observed as he led them past a series of offices with nameplates in multiple languages. "Though arguably more dangerous in the long run. Experimental charms might blow up in your face, but international politics can blow up entire governments."
Harry noticed that several office doors displayed small flags representing different magical nations—some he recognized, others completely unfamiliar. A few doors bore symbols that weren't flags at all, but rather emblems that suggested magical communities not tied to any particular country.
The complexity of international magical governance is clearly far more intricate than I realized, Harry thought as he observed the bustling activity around them. And based on these office assignments, Britain maintains diplomatic relationships with magical communities I've never even heard of.
"Arthur!" called a crisp voice with what sounded like a slight German accent. "What brings you to our corner of bureaucratic paradise?"
The speaker was a witch who appeared to be in her late thirties, with auburn hair pulled back in a severe bun and robes of deep blue that somehow managed to look both formal and practical. Her eyes held the sort of sharp intelligence that Harry associated with people who spent their professional lives navigating complex political relationships.
"Ingrid, excellent timing," Arthur replied warmly. "I'd like you to meet Harry Potter and the Tonks family. Harry, this is Ingrid Westphall, Senior Coordinator for European Magical Relations."
Ingrid's attention immediately focused on Harry with obvious interest, though her expression remained diplomatically neutral. "Mr. Potter. Your reputation precedes you, particularly in certain Italian Ministry circles."
"Word travels quickly in international magical politics, I assume?" Harry replied, offering his hand.
"Faster than you might expect," Ingrid confirmed, shaking his hand with a firm grip. "When a twelve-year-old British wizard begins conducting independent business with foreign magical governments, it tends to generate considerable discussion among international coordination offices."
Something in her tone suggested that not all of this discussion had been entirely positive, and Harry felt his political instincts prickling with warning.
"I hope that discussion has been... constructive?" he asked carefully.
"Oh, very constructive," Ingrid assured him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Though it has raised some interesting questions about jurisdiction and oversight responsibilities."
Arthur cleared his throat meaningfully. "Perhaps we could continue this conversation in your office, Ingrid? I believe Harry would benefit from understanding how international magical cooperation actually functions."
"Excellent idea," Ingrid agreed, gesturing toward her office door. "I think you'll find our current caseload quite educational."
Ingrid's office was a fascinating study in organized complexity. Maps of magical Europe covered one entire wall, marked with colored pins that seemed to represent ongoing diplomatic situations. Her desk was covered with correspondence in multiple languages, and Harry noticed that several letters bore official seals he didn't recognize.
"Please, have a seat," Ingrid said, settling behind her desk. "I understand you're here for a meeting with the Italian delegation?"
"Among other things," Harry confirmed. "Though I'm beginning to realize that my business relationships may have political implications I hadn't fully considered."
"That," Ingrid said with obvious approval, "is a remarkably mature observation for someone your age. Yes, your innovations have generated significant interest beyond purely commercial considerations."
"What sort of interest?" Nymphadora asked bluntly.
Ingrid consulted a file on her desk before responding. "Well, the French Ministry has made several inquiries about Mr. Potter's availability for consultation on protective magic research. The German Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes has expressed interest in acquiring British-made protective talismans for their emergency response teams. And we've received formal correspondence from the Russian Ministry requesting diplomatic channels for direct communication with Mr. Potter."
"Russia? Harry didn't you say someone from Russia came to met you?" Ted said, looking slightly concerned.
"Yes."
"Minister Kozlova's office specifically," Ingrid confirmed. "Though they've been rather... vague about the precise nature of their interest."
Harry remembered the beautiful Russian witch from his Phoenix Crown assessment—Kozlova had mentioned something about a Moscow visit, but he'd assumed that was personal rather than official business.
"That's... concerning," Ted said with obvious worry. "Russian magical politics tend to be rather more complicated than Western European relations."
"Indeed," Ingrid agreed grimly. "Which brings us to one of the challenges we're facing in the international coordination office."
She leaned forward slightly, her expression growing more serious. "Mr. Potter, your independent business relationships with foreign magical governments represent something of a precedent in modern magical diplomacy. Traditionally, international magical commerce operates through established Ministry channels with appropriate oversight and regulation."
"Oversight?" Harry asked.
"The British Ministry maintains responsibility for ensuring that our citizens' international activities don't create... complications for broader diplomatic relationships," Ingrid explained diplomatically. "Your success with the Italian Ministry is commendable, but it has also created expectations in other magical governments about direct access to British magical innovation."
Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Ingrid, perhaps we should be more direct about the political concerns."
"What political concerns?" Nymphadora asked with obvious alarm.
Ingrid and Arthur exchanged glances that suggested they were approaching sensitive territory.
"There are some within the Ministry," Arthur said quietly, "who believe that Harry's independent business relationships represent a potential... challenge to established governmental authority."
"A challenge how?" Harry asked. He knew what Arthur meant, but he wanted to hear more.
"You're twelve years old, and you're conducting international magical commerce that rivals what the Ministry accomplishes through formal diplomatic channels," Arthur explained. "That makes certain people nervous about precedent and control."
"Control?" Nymphadora's voice had taken on the sort of edge that suggested someone was about to face her displeasure. "Harry is helping people. He's saving lives with his innovations. Why would anyone object to that?"
Arthur's expression grew sympathetic but also slightly weary. "Because, Nymphadora, politics is fundamentally about power, money, and influence. It has very little room for people like Harry, who accomplish extraordinary things simply because they want to help others."
"So what you're saying," Harry said slowly, "is that my independence is being viewed as a potential threat to Ministry authority?"
"By some people, yes," Ingrid confirmed. "Though I should emphasize that your work is also viewed as a significant asset to British magical interests. Your success reflects well on British magical education and innovation."
"The trick," Arthur added quietly, "is ensuring that you're seen as an asset rather than a rival. And that means being careful about how you manage your international relationships."
"Speaking of which," Arthur continued, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "you should understand that you've been extraordinarily fortunate in terms of intellectual property rights. Hogwarts cannot claim rights to your talisman despite being made in Hogwarts territory, but if you were a Ministry employee, anything you created would automatically belong to the government and you would be given a much smaller percentage for your trouble."
That sent a chill down Harry's spine. He'd never considered that his innovations might not legally belong to him if circumstances had been different.
"So my independence is both an asset and a liability?" Harry asked.
"Precisely," Ingrid confirmed. "Which is why international coordination becomes so important. We need to ensure that your business relationships support broader British magical interests rather than complicating them."
"What would that look like in practice?" Harry inquired.
"Coordination with Ministry diplomatic channels," Ingrid explained. "Advance notification of significant international agreements. Possibly formal consultation status that would give you official standing while maintaining appropriate governmental oversight."
"Consultation status?" Harry asked with growing interest.
"A formal advisory position that would recognize your expertise while ensuring that your international activities complement Ministry foreign policy objectives," Arthur clarified. "It would provide you with diplomatic protection while giving the Ministry some influence over your business relationships."
Harry absorbed this information carefully. The offer sounded reasonable on the surface, but he suspected there were complications he wasn't seeing yet.
"What would be the obligations of such a position?" he asked.
"Regular reporting on international activities, advance consultation on significant business agreements, and coordination with relevant Ministry departments on matters affecting British magical interests," Ingrid listed. "Nothing that would restrict your innovation or business development, but sufficient oversight to prevent diplomatic complications."
"And if I preferred to maintain complete independence?" Harry asked.
Ingrid's expression grew distinctly uncomfortable. "That would be... challenging. Independent British citizens conducting significant international magical commerce without Ministry coordination tend to encounter various bureaucratic difficulties."
The threat was politely delivered, but it was definitely a threat.
"I see," Harry said diplomatically. "I assume I don't need to make any immediate decisions about formal consultation status?"
"Of course not," Arthur assured him. "Though given your meeting with the Italian delegation this afternoon, it might be wise to consider your options sooner rather than later."
As they prepared to leave Ingrid's office, Harry reflected that this conversation had been far more educational than he'd expected—though not necessarily in ways he found encouraging.
"Thank you for the briefing," Harry said to Ingrid. "I appreciate your directness about the political complexities."
"It's been my pleasure, Mr. Potter," Ingrid replied with what seemed like genuine warmth. "I hope you'll consider the consultation option seriously. Your innovations are genuinely impressive, and Britain benefits when our most talented citizens work within established diplomatic frameworks."
As they walked back toward the lifts, Harry noticed that Nymphadora looked distinctly unhappy about what they'd just learned.
"That was essentially a polite shakedown," she said once they were out of earshot. "They're threatening to make your life difficult if you don't accept government oversight."
"Politics," Arthur said with a shrug that suggested this was unfortunately normal. "The Ministry doesn't like losing control of valuable assets, and Harry has definitely become a valuable asset."
"I'm a person, not an asset," Harry said with heat in his tone.
"I know that, Harry," Arthur replied gently. "But to certain people in the Ministry, the distinction doesn't matter as much as it should."
Harry considered this as they waited for the lift. His international business relationships had seemed like straightforward commercial arrangements, but apparently they existed within a web of political complexity that he was only beginning to understand.
And if Russian involvement really is developing, he thought grimly, these political complications are likely to get much worse before they get better.
⚯ ͛
⚯ ͛
Arthur was in the middle of explaining the intricacies of the Floo Network Regulation Office when Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared around the corner, his expression grim and his usual calm demeanor noticeably strained.
"Mister Potter," Kingsley called out, his deep voice carrying an edge of urgency that immediately caught everyone's attention. "Thank Merlin I found you. We need to get you to Level Five immediately."
Harry felt his stomach drop at the obvious concern in the senior Auror's voice. "What's wrong? The Italian delegation isn't supposed to arrive for another two hours."
"That's the problem," Kingsley said grimly. "Minister Fudge started the meeting ten minutes ago. The Italians have been waiting."
"WHAT?" Ted's voice erupted with such force that several Ministry employees stopped to stare. His face had gone red with fury, and Harry could practically see steam rising from his ears. "Why the bloody hell weren't we notified about this change?"
Kingsley shook his head with obvious frustration. "I honestly don't know, Ted. I only found out when I went to check the meeting room early. Found the whole delegation already seated and wondering where Mr. Potter was."
Harry felt anger surge through him like molten metal, but he forced himself to maintain outward composure. This was clearly intentional—Fudge was trying to control the meeting by starting without him. The petty politics of it made his blood boil, but losing his temper now would only play into their hands.
"Right," Harry said with carefully controlled calm, though his green eyes flashed dangerously. "Let's not keep our international guests waiting any longer than they already have."
Arthur looked between Harry's controlled fury and Ted's open rage with obvious alarm. "Harry, if you want me to file a formal complaint about this breach of protocol—"
"Later," Harry cut him off politely but firmly. "Right now, I have a business meeting to attend."
The lift ride to Level Five felt like an eternity, though it probably took less than two minutes. Harry used the time to center himself, drawing on every lesson Andromeda had given him about diplomatic composure. He would not give Fudge and Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.
"Remember," Andromeda said quietly as they approached Level Five, "you have every right to be here, and the Italians want to work with you specifically. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."
Nymphadora reached over and squeezed his hand briefly. "You've got this, Harry. Show them what a real Talisman Maker looks like."
The Department of International Magical Cooperation was buzzing with activity, and Harry could see several officials casting curious glances in their direction as Kingsley led them through the corridors. Word had apparently spread that something significant was happening with the Italian delegation.
They stopped outside a set of ornate double doors marked with the British magical crest. Through the partially open doors, Harry could hear voices speaking in rapid Italian mixed with English.
"Ready?" Kingsley asked quietly.
Harry straightened his shoulders, adjusted his charcoal suit jacket, and nodded. "Let's do this."
The doors opened to reveal a large conference room dominated by a polished oak table that could easily seat twenty people. At the head of the table sat Minister Lombardi, and Harry felt his chest warm with genuine pleasure at seeing her again.
She looked exactly as striking as he remembered from their September meeting—elegant dark hair, sharp intelligent eyes, and wearing robes of deep burgundy that managed to look both formal and fashionable. Her expression brightened noticeably when she saw Harry enter.
Seated around the table were several other individuals, including the familiar tall figure of Marco Bianchi, along with the unfortunately predictable figures of Minister Fudge and Dolores Umbridge, but Harry was happy to see Lady Amelia Bones, Clara Dovewood, and Mad-Eye Moody.
"Ah," Fudge said with obviously forced cheer as Harry's group entered, "here's our young Talisman maker now! Minister Lombardi, as I was saying—"
"Mister Potter!" Minister Lombardi interrupted, rising gracefully from her seat with a warm smile that completely ignored Fudge's attempt to maintain control of the conversation. "How wonderful to see you again. I trust you've been well since our last meeting?"
"Minister Lombardi," Harry replied with a respectful bow, feeling his diplomatic training click into place. "The pleasure is entirely mine. I apologize for my tardiness—I only just learned that the meeting had been moved up from our originally scheduled time."
He delivered the last part with perfect politeness while looking directly at Fudge, who had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable.
"Oh yes," Fudge said quickly, "we sent an owl three hours ago notifying everyone of the schedule change. Perhaps it was delayed in delivery?"
The lie was so transparent that Harry almost laughed. Minister Lombardi's dark eyes flicked between Harry and Fudge with obvious understanding of the political undercurrents at play, and her expression suggested she was distinctly unimpressed with the British Minister's tactics.
"How unfortunate," Harry replied with the same perfect politeness. "These communication delays do happen occasionally in magical correspondence."
"Mister Potter!" Marco Bianchi's booming voice cut through the tension as the giant man rose from his seat with obvious delight. "È un piacere vederti di nuovo! A pleasure to see you again, Mister Potter!"
Harry grinned at the Italian's enthusiasm. "Signor Bianchi, the pleasure is mutual. I trust your return journey to Italy went smoothly after our testing session last month?"
"Sì, sì, molto bene!" Marco replied, his massive hands gesturing expressively. "And I have told il Ministero everything about your magnifico talisman. The Minister, she is molto excited to finalize our arrangement."
Minister Lombardi nodded with obvious satisfaction. "Indeed, Mister Potter. Marco's report was quite... comprehensive. A Phoenix Crown ranking, use of authentic basilisk materials, and successful protection against genuine Etruscan burial curses. Most impressive."
"I'm glad the testing met your standards," Harry replied, feeling some of his tension ease at the positive reception. "Though I should note that my research partner, Miss Tonks, deserves significant credit for the communication features."
He gestured toward Nymphadora, who immediately flushed pink at the attention. "The metamorphic adaptation principles that allow talisman coordination are based entirely on her insights into magical identity consistency during transformation."
"Ah, sì!" Marco exclaimed, turning his attention to Nymphadora with obvious interest. "The comunicazione features—very importante for our teams. You are the metamorphmaga, no?"
"Metamorphmagus, yes," Nymphadora confirmed, looking slightly overwhelmed by the international attention. "Though really, I just provided some theoretical assistance. Harry did all the actual work."
"Modesty," Minister Lombardi said with an approving smile, "is a becoming trait. But collaborative innovation should be properly credited. The Potter-Tonks Metamorphic Adaptation Principle, as I understand it?"
"Exactly," Harry confirmed, pleased that she'd remembered the technical designation. "Without Miss Tonks' contribution, these would just be very expensive individual protection devices. The coordination capabilities make them truly revolutionary."
Before the conversation could continue, Umbridge cleared her throat with her characteristic "hem hem" that made several people in the room visibly wince.
"Now, Minister Lombardi," she said in her most condescending tone, "surely you don't want to rush into any hasty agreements based on preliminary testing? The enhanced talismans may have passed basic evaluation, but international safety standards require much more comprehensive—"
"Scusi," Minister Lombardi's voice cut through Umbridge's words like ice, her dark eyes fixing on the pink-clad woman with obvious displeasure. "I was not aware that British Undersecretaries now speak for Italian procurement decisions."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Umbridge's mouth opened and closed like a fish, clearly not having expected such a direct challenge from a foreign Minister.
"I merely thought that proper international protocols—" Umbridge began weakly.
"Proper international protocols," Minister Lombardi continued with cutting precision, "involve allowing sovereign magical governments to make their own decisions about equipment purchases. Italy has conducted our own comprehensive testing through our own qualified evaluators. We require no additional British oversight of our business arrangements."
Fudge gave Umbridge a look that clearly said 'shut up for once,' and she subsided into sullen silence, her face flushing an unattractive shade that clashed horribly with her pink cardigan; she was already unattractive, but now she appeared like a dead, ugly toad.
"Now then," Minister Lombardi continued, her tone warming considerably as she turned back to Harry, "let us discuss the practical arrangements. Based on Marco's evaluation and our field requirements, Italy would like to purchase one hundred enhanced talismans for immediate deployment."
Harry felt his excitement spike at the confirmed order. "That's well within my production capabilities, Minister Lombardi. When would you need delivery?"
"Within four months, if possible," she replied. "Our Auror teams are preparing for a major excavation at a newly discovered Etruscan royal tomb complex. The curses there are... particularly virulent."
"Four months shouldn't be a problem," Harry confirmed. "The basilisk materials are readily available, and I've streamlined the production process considerably since creating the prototypes."
"Excellent," Minister Lombardi said with obvious satisfaction. "Which brings us to the matter of pricing."
Harry took a breath, having anticipated this discussion. "Given the complexity of the enchantments and the rarity of the basilisk materials, the enhanced talismans would cost four hundred Galleons each, with my standard twenty percent commission."
"Four hundred Galleons per unit," Minister Lombardi repeated thoughtfully. "That's considerably higher than your standard talismans."
"The basilisk skin alone costs nearly fifty Galleons per talisman," Harry explained. "Plus the additional enchantment complexity and testing requirements. Though I should note that these talismans provide protection against curses that would kill anyone wearing standard equipment."
Fudge shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly calculating that his own Ministry would eventually want to purchase the enhanced version as well—at a cost that would make his previous talisman expenditures look modest by comparison.
"The price is quite reasonable," Minister Lombardi said decisively. "Italy agrees to purchase one hundred enhanced talismans at four hundred Galleons each. The total contract value would be forty thousand Galleons."
The speed of her decision clearly caught everyone off guard. Harry noticed several British officials exchange surprised glances at how quickly the Italians had committed to such a substantial purchase.
"Wonderful," Harry replied with genuine satisfaction. "I'll begin production immediately to meet your four-month deadline."
"Actually," Minister Lombardi continued with a smile that suggested she was about to make an offer Harry would find interesting, "there is one additional matter I wished to discuss."
She reached into her robes and produced an elegant envelope bearing the Italian Ministry's official seal. "Italy would like to formally invite you and your family to visit our magical community this summer. Specifically, we'd like you to spend two weeks with us in July."
Harry felt his excitement spike at the unexpected invitation. "That's incredibly generous, Minister Lombardi. What would such a visit involve?"
"Cultural exchange, primarily," she replied warmly. "We'd like you to visit Seravella—our magical academy—to meet with our students and professors. Additionally, our Master Artificers would be honored to share some advanced enchantment techniques that might interest you."
"And," Marco added with obvious enthusiasm, "you could see the actual Etruscan sites where your talismans will be used! very exciting. Well, exciting if you like ancient curses and magical death traps."
"I do have a certain appreciation for dangerous magical situations," Harry replied with a grin. "Though I assume appropriate safety precautions would be taken?"
"Naturally," Minister Lombardi assured him. "You would be accompanied by our best curse-breakers and wearing full protective equipment. Think of it as... practical field testing under controlled conditions."
Clara Dovewood leaned forward with obvious interest. "Minister Lombardi, if I may ask, would this visit include opportunities for Mr. Potter to observe Italian magical protection techniques? From a research perspective, such cultural exchange could benefit both our countries."
"Absolutely," Minister Lombardi confirmed. "We believe that innovation flourishes through collaboration. The first talisman made by Mister Potter last year has already saved Italian lives—perhaps Italian techniques can contribute to future British developments."
Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye swiveled to focus on the Italian Minister. "Generous offer," he growled approvingly. "Educational exchanges tend to benefit everyone involved. Assuming proper security arrangements, of course."
"Of course," Minister Lombardi agreed with a slight smile. "Though I suspect Mister Potter has proven quite capable of handling dangerous magical situations."
"Indeed he has," Amelia Bones added warmly. "Our casualty statistics have improved dramatically since implementing his talisman designs. Zero fatalities in the past year, compared to nine deaths in the previous year."
"Nine deaths prevented," Minister Lombardi repeated with obvious appreciation. "And now your innovation will protect Italian Aurors as well. This is exactly the sort of international cooperation that advances magical safety for everyone."
As the meeting began to wind down and final details were discussed, Harry reflected that despite Fudge and Umbridge's attempts at sabotage, the afternoon had exceeded his best expectations. Not only had he secured a substantial contract with Italy, but he'd gained an invitation to explore an entirely different magical culture.
"Minister Lombardi," Harry said as the delegation began preparing to leave, "I'm genuinely honored by your invitation. Italy has always fascinated me, and the opportunity to study Etruscan magical archaeology is incredibly appealing."
"Wonderful," she replied with obvious pleasure. "I believe you'll find our approach to magical education quite different from Hogwarts. And our cuisine is considerably superior to British fare, though I suppose that's not difficult to achieve."
That earned a laugh from several people in the room.
"One final matter," Minister Lombardi added, turning to address the room generally. "I want to formally commend the British Ministry for fostering such exceptional young talent. Mister Potter's innovations represent exactly the sort of magical advancement that benefits the entire international community."
Her words were clearly intended as a pointed reminder to Fudge and Umbridge that Harry's success reflected well on British magical education and government—making their obstructionist tactics look particularly petty and short-sighted.
As the Italian delegation prepared to depart, Minister Lombardi shook hands with Harry one final time.
"Until July, Mister Potter," she said warmly. "I look forward to showing you the wonders of magical Italy."
"The pleasure will be entirely mine, Minister Lombardi," Harry replied with genuine anticipation.
As they left the conference room, Harry caught Umbridge's sour expression and Fudge's calculating look. Despite the successful meeting, he suspected his growing international profile was creating political complications that would only get worse over time.
But those were problems for the future. Today, he'd secured an important contract and gained an invitation to explore magical Italy.
The summer, Harry decided, was shaping up to be very interesting indeed. He couldn't help but wonder what Newt would say about this.