HP: The Artisan's Path Chapter 95

Hi all, 

Here’s the first chapter of the week. Harry reaches out to the Fae Realm once more, and soon, the Artisan Guild from America shows up to collect him, making quite the grand entrance.

Chapter 95

27th June

Harry gazed out the Hogwarts Express window, watching the Scottish countryside roll past in a blur of greens and golds. 

The compartment was comfortably crowded with his friends and girlfriends, their voices creating a familiar backdrop to his thoughts. Tracy's animated voice rose above the general chatter as she detailed her plans for AirPolo, her hands gesturing enthusiastically.

"We need proper rules for league play," Tracy said, sketching diagrams in the air with her wand. "The scoring system needs work—maybe introduce a miniature hoop for bonus points? It would incentivise players to be more accurate at shooting goals. What do you think, Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry turned from the window, his mind still half-focused on his summer plans. "Oh, yeah. Sounds good."

"He hasn't heard a word you've said," Daphne observed with a knowing smile. 

"I have a lot of things to sort out before we head to America." He smiled sheepishly, absently stroking Hedwig's feathers. “The motion of the train makes it easy for me to think.”

Beneath his seat, Nagini was coiled comfortably, having shrunken down so she didn’t take up all of the floor space. Fawkes had predictably chosen to flame directly to their destination rather than endure the train journey.

"You didn't even want to take the train," Hermione reminded him from behind her book. "We had to convince you it was a Hogwarts tradition and not something to be missed because it’s inconvenient.”

"One trip is a novelty. Anymore, is just a waste of time.” Harry protested. “I have things to do in London.”

"That can wait a few hours," Susan interrupted, grinning as she reached across to ruffle his hair. "Besides, Remus said he'd meet you at the station."

"Sirius will probably be there too," Gabrielle added. "Showing off little Rosie to everyone who'll look. Did you see the photo album he sent last week? Twenty pages, and she's barely three months old!"

Harry couldn't help but smile. His godfather had become quite the proud father, flooding them with photos and stories about every little thing Rosie did. Lauren had taken to hiding the camera, but Sirius kept buying new ones.

"Do you realise how unsettling it is to see a bunch of animated baby pictures moving at the same time?" Blaise wondered. 

Harry snickered. He leaned back in his seat, his mind wandering again.

It had been a good end to the year, all things considered. Gryffindor had maintained their dominance, securing both the House and Quidditch Cups with comfortable margins. The exams had gone well enough—Harry had placed third overall behind Hermione and Daphne, though he'd topped all the practical portions.

Several of them had scored extra points for producing fully corporeal Patronuses. Besides Harry, only Neville, Susan, and Gabrielle had managed it. They took the forms of a bear, a pine marten, and a Bicorn respectively. Susan's Patronus matched her Animagus form perfectly. The others had managed to produce shields but still had work to do.

A knock at their compartment door interrupted his thoughts. Colin Creevey poked his head in, camera dangling from his neck as usual, his face flushed with excitement.

"Harry! Just wanted to discuss the fan club's summer plans," he burst out, practically bouncing on his toes. "We're thinking of starting a newsletter—'The Potter Post', maybe? We've got one hundred and twenty-seven members now. We could do interviews and updates on your latest artifacts—"

"Maybe later, Colin," Harry said quickly, trying to keep the exasperation from his voice. "Still settling in for the journey."

Colin nodded enthusiastically and departed, though not before snapping a quick photo that left them all blinking from the flash. He was barely gone before Ginny, Luna, and Astoria slipped into the compartment, squeezing into what little space remained.

"I've decided what to do with my first hundred galleons," Ginny announced, dropping onto an empty seat beside Luna. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she outlined her plans. "I'm getting a new wand—Ollivander says my current one isn't a perfect match—and saving the rest. Dad wanted me to put it all in the vault, but a proper wand is important."

"A sensible choice," Luna observed dreamily, twisting her butterbeer cork necklace. "Though you could invest in Crumple-Horned Snorkack expeditions. They're quite profitable this time of year. Daddy says the breeding season brings them closer to civilisation."

Before Harry could point out the flaws in Luna's investment advice, another knock interrupted them. This time it was a group of fifth-years he barely knew, all suddenly eager to chat with the Founders' Heir. Their practised speeches and careful flattery made their parents' coaching obvious—they had been instructed to get close to him.

More visitors followed, each group more transparent than the last in their attempts to curry favour. By the fourth interruption, even Hermione had put down her book in annoyance.

"The Wizengamot changes have certainly stirred things up," Daphne said after they'd finally managed to ward off the latest group with a locking charm. "Remus has been busy wielding the Ravenclaw votes to push through several reforms. Did you see the Prophet's coverage of his latest proposal?"

Harry nodded, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The traditionalists had been apoplectic when he'd named Remus as his Ravenclaw proxy. They had never seen a  werewolf holding votes in the Wizengamot and gaining several victories over them to boot. Without Lucius Malfoy there to lead them, the traditional faction had weakened considerably. 

"Speaking of influence," Terry said with a grin. "I should probably make my pitch too. My parents mentioned something about securing your favour—though they were joking, mostly. Dad suggested offering you our prized collection of garden gnomes."

"At least your family's honest about it," Harry replied with a laugh. "Though I might pass on the gnomes."

When they finally reached the station, the usual chaos of trunks, trolleys, and reuniting families filled the air. Through the steam billowing from the locomotive, Harry spotted a crowd of familiar faces waiting. Remus and Sirius stood with Rosie, surrounded by the Grangers, the Greengrasses, Alice Longbottom, the Abbots, and the striking figure of Apolline Delacour.

Harry made straight for Sirius, expertly navigating through the crowd with his trolley. The moment he reached them, Sirius thrust Rosie into his arms. The baby girl, dressed in a frilly pink dress that screamed Lauren's influence, squealed with delight as Harry bounced her gently.

"Careful with my daughter, pup," Sirius warned, though his grin betrayed his pride.

"She's got your features," Harry observed, studying the infant's face. "Poor thing."

"Oi!" Sirius protested, but before he could defend his genetic contributions, Mr Granger cleared his throat.

"So, Harry," David began, his tone serious. "About you dating my daughter..."

Harry froze.

Apolline's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yes, Harry, perhaps you should explain to David how you manage to keep four witches happy. We're all quite curious about your... scheduling abilities."

"Indeed," Mr Greengrass added dryly. "My wife is particularly impressed by the colour-coded timetable Daphne showed her over a mirror-call."

Harry felt his face heat up. Even though two of the parents were teasing, Mr Granger's concerns were genuine. "Well, sir, I can assure you I have nothing but respect for Hermione. And the scheduling system was actually her idea..."

"Of course it was," David muttered, earning a sharp elbow from his wife.

"Though I must say," Apolline added with a wicked grin, "Gabrielle's letters home have been most... enlightening."

Harry seriously considered using Rosie as a human shield and making a run for it. 

"He's being very responsible about it all," Luna interjected helpfully. "The scheduling chart Hermione made ensures everyone gets equal time. However, the Nargles do tend to interfere with the more intimate moments. They're attracted to heightened emotions, you know."

The adults struggled to maintain their composure. Helen Granger pressed her lips together, shoulders trembling with suppressed laughter, while Alice Longbottom made no attempt to hide her amusement. David Granger, however, crossed his arms, his expression darkening as he watched the exchange.

"Luna!" Hermione hissed, her face flushing crimson. 

"Oh, was that meant to be private?" Luna asked, her silvery eyes widening with innocent confusion. "I thought everyone knew about the broom cupboard incident. And that fascinating afternoon in the library when—"

"What broom cupboard incident?" several parents demanded in unison, their earlier amusement transforming into sharp-eyed interest.

The increasingly awkward moment was mercifully interrupted by Madam Zabini's arrival. Harry noticed how her eyes methodically scanned the platform.

"Harry darling," she purred, her lips curving into a calculated smile. "Don’t forget about me when you're considering marriage in the future. I don't mind sharing." 

Harry shuddered when she winked at him.

Her expression softened into genuine warmth as she turned to her son. "Blaise, you'll be staying with Harry this summer. I need to handle some family business."

"Mother, what's happening?" Blaise asked. "This is about Obsidian, isn't it?"

"Nothing for you to worry about, my love," she murmured, pulling him into a fierce embrace. 

Before he could press further, she released him and melted into the crowd, leaving as quickly as she had appeared.

A heavy silence descended upon the group, broken only by Rosie's innocent gurgling as she tugged playfully at Harry's hair.

"Well," Remus said finally, clapping his hands together. "Shall we get going? We should leave before Luna reveals any more cupboard-related adventures."

Harry said his goodbyes, before giving each girlfriend a quick kiss despite their parents' watchful eyes. As they headed for the exit with Remus and Sirius, he glanced at Blaise, who was still staring after his mother.

"Your mother will be fine," he said quietly. "She can handle herself. And if she needs help, she knows where to find it."

Blaise nodded, though worry still creased his forehead. "I know. I just wish she'd tell me what's happening."

“Your family is mixed up with Obsidian,” Harry said. “They’re probably not happy with her role in their downfall.”

“We should just wipe the lot out,” Blaise muttered. “Start over again.”

“I'm sure Tracy would be happy to help with producing the next Zabini generation.”

“Shut it.” 

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The floo deposited them in the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius cradled Rosie protectively against his chest but she hadn't enjoyed her first floo journey, if her scrunched-up face was any indication.

They made their way into Diagon Alley. The afternoon crowd parted before them like water around stones, whispers and pointed fingers following in their wake as people recognised Harry. The recent Prophet articles about his role in the Battle of Hogwarts had everyone talking about him. 

“Is this the place?” Harry asked. 

They had stopped in front of a three-storey building. It stood proud among its neighbours, its fresh cream paint and gleaming windows marking it as recently renovated. Even the brass fixtures had been polished to a mirror shine. Remus produced a heavy iron key with a flourish.

"Your new shop," Remus confirmed, unlocking the door with a satisfying click. “The interior still needs renovating. The first floor will be the main retail area, while the two upper floors will be for storing extra stock."

Harry stepped inside. His eyes were immediately drawn to the massive crystal dominating the centre of the room. It rose from floor to ceiling like a transparent pillar, held in a metal frame. The crystal itself wasn't natural—it's perfectly symmetrical face and uniform purple colour marked it as magically grown.

Harry grinned. “You managed to purchase it.” 

“Of course,” Remus said. “Have to keep my boss happy.”

"You're going to use this for your communications network?" Blaise asked, circling the crystal with undisguised curiosity. "It's enormous. Must have cost a fortune to grow something this size."

Even Rosie seemed impressed by it, her earlier floo-induced grumpiness forgotten as she stared wide-eyed at the crystal.

Harry nodded. "The size will help process all the mirror calls and maintain a stable connection across greater distances. Once I get the network running, it'll revolutionise magical communications in Britain.”

The crystal was a new innovation from the European Artisans Guild. While it couldn't store magic like typical gems relative to its size, it could hold thousands of enchantments. It functioned similarly to a wardstone but required external magical sources to power it. This was where Harry's magical batteries would prove essential. He planned to create a network of batteries to ensure the enchantments would run continuously.

Solving the runic schematic had taken time, but the Artisan Codex had provided the crucial elements he'd been missing. Combined with his growing expertise, he'd finally cracked the problem that had stumped him for months. The solution would allow him to build a network of two-way mirrors, enabling everyone to communicate with each other freely.

All that remained was inscribing the arrays and crafting new two-way mirrors capable of connecting to every other mirror in the network. However, that project would have to wait until he had more time to dedicate to it. Once that was done, the store would officially open, selling the two-way mirrors along with his other inventions. 

"The building is perfect for my needs," Harry said. "Who's going to handle the interior?"

"I have someone in mind," Remus replied. "They come highly recommended, but they're booked solid for several months in advance."

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. "Cast your net wider, then. There's no reason to limit ourselves to England. Perhaps someone from France might be available sooner."

Remus nodded. "

After leaving the empty shop, Harry headed to the Artisan Guild just three doors away.

As Harry pushed open the heavy oak doors, Alphonso looked up from his desk, his characteristic cheerful smile lighting up his round face. 

"Harry! What brings you by today?"

"Just checking in," Harry replied, leaning against the counter. "Actually, I wanted to let you know I will be heading to America for a few weeks this summer. The American Guild invited me to study Magitech."

Alphonso's eyebrows shot up. "The European Guild won't be too pleased about that. They've been trying to keep you close. You're quite the asset."

Harry shrugged. "Can't help that America's more progressive about mixing magic and technology. Besides, it's just for six weeks."

"True enough," Alphonso chuckled. "Speaking of guild matters, how's that commissioned bow coming along? The one with the mysterious patron?"

"Still working on it," Harry said. "Since I've got a year to complete it, it hasn't been my highest priority."

Harry planned to complete it before summer break ended. He would obtain the location of the Wind Vault and be ready to explore it once he returned to Hogwarts. 

"Well, keep me updated," Alphonso said. "Be careful with those Americans. They might try to poach you permanently."

"No need to worry about that. No guild can contain my ambitions—I prefer to keep my options open."

"Merlin help us," Alphonso muttered, shaking his head. "I've created a monster."

Harry's final business of the day led him to Knockturn Alley. Blaise remained in Diagon Alley, reluctantly babysitting Rosie, as Sirius had been adamant about keeping his daughter away from the unsavoury district.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at Blaise's indignant expression. The Slytherin held baby Rosie as though she were a volatile explosive.

The detective's office was wedged between Murdock's Questionable Apothecary and Bindings & Things, a second-hand bookshop whose suspiciously stained windows suggested its inventory might not be entirely legal. 

Mortimer Pike's name was stencilled on frosted glass in peeling gold letters, alongside the words "Private Investigations - Discretion Guaranteed."

The interior of the office, though cramped, displayed meticulous organisation. Filing cabinets lined the walls, each drawer labelled in immaculate handwriting. A Pensieve occupied one corner, its silvery contents swirling lazily. The desk dominated the small space, its scarred surface covered in neat stacks of parchment and what appeared to be active case files.

Pike himself proved to be a thin man with sharp features and even sharper eyes that seemed to catalogue every detail. His robes, while well-worn, were immaculately pressed, and a golden watch chain disappeared into his waistcoat pocket.

"Mr Potter," he said, rising from behind his desk. "I rarely receive visits from such illustrious wizards."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Meaning your clients are usually not reputable. Is that why your office is tucked away in Knockturn Alley?"

"No comment." Pike gestured towards the chairs before his desk. "What can I do for you? Mr Lupin wasn't particularly forthcoming when he made the appointment."

Harry explained his search for Lewis Rosier, producing the list of hideouts he'd obtained from Archibald. These locations had once served as safe houses for the Knights of the Round.

"These locations shouldn't prove too difficult to investigate," Pike said, examining the list. His quill danced across a small leather-bound notebook. "Though if this Lewis possesses any sense, he won't be using them. Obsidian has likely already extracted these locations from the other members they've eliminated."

Harry nodded grimly. "That's my assessment as well. Your primary task will be to find Lewis by tracing his movements from when he abandoned his junk shop."

"Very well." Pike made several more notations. "My standard rate is two hundred Galleons per day, plus expenses. I'll provide weekly updates via secure owl, more frequent if I uncover anything significant."

"Done," Harry said, settling back to let Remus handle the paperwork while he conversed quietly with Sirius.

"One question," Pike said as they prepared to depart, his keen eyes studying Harry intently. "Why hire me? Surely you could manage the investigation yourself."

"I've got too many things on my plate this summer," Harry admitted. "I haven't the time to chase leads across the country. Besides, this is your speciality, isn't it? I expect you'll have far better success rates than I would."

Pike nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. "I'll be in touch within the week. Pleasure doing business with you."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, several Fae Stones arranged before him. After Lady Ravenclaw's revelations about the rifts and his encounter with that flesh creature, he hadn’t been able to get the Fae Realm out of his mind. He needed some answers. The Fae communication stones were risky, connecting to random scrying pools, but they were his only option.

He activated the first stone. Nothing happened. Either the owner was absent or dead. What a waste of points.

He activated the second stone. The connection formed instantly, but something felt wrong. 

"Well, what have we here?" The voice sounded ancient. It scraped against Harry's mind like rusted nails on slate, sending waves of nausea through him. "A little mortal, reaching where he shouldn't."

Harry tried to break the connection, but invisible bonds held him fast. The stone burned cold in his palm, so frigid it felt like it was fusing to his flesh. 

"Harry James Potter." Each syllable of his name felt like a violation, as if the being was carving the words into his soul. "Heir to four founders. Marked by the Source. How fascinating." 

Harry's blood ran cold, his breath coming in short gasps that misted in the freezing air. "How do you—"

"Know these things?" The being laughed. "I see all your secrets, little wizard. Every dark thought, every hidden fear, every shameful desire. Your mind is as open to me."

The being began reciting details of Harry's life with terrible intimacy. Not just events, but thoughts and feelings he'd never shared with anyone. 

"Shall I tell you what your parents' last thoughts were?" the voice whispered, silky smooth now. "I can see those too. Would you like to hear your mother scream?"

Horror rose in Harry's throat like bile as fragments of that night began surfacing in his mind—memories he shouldn't have, couldn't have, but somehow did. His mother's voice, desperate and pleading...

Just as panic threatened to overwhelm him, a familiar presence stirred in his mind. Slyther's voice cut through the terror like a blade of ice through flame.

"Repeat after me," Slyther hissed then began a string of Parseltongue syllables that seemed to burn in Harry's throat.

Harry started chanting, his voice trembling at first but growing stronger with each word. The shadows recoiled from him, and warmth began returning to his fingers.

The being's hunger turned to rage. "Stop that, you insignificant speck!" The voice distorted, becoming multiple voices speaking in terrible harmony. "I will tear your family apart! I will make you watch as I peel the skin from their bones! I will—"

Harry ignored the threats, focusing entirely on the chant. The being's voice rose to a bone-chilling screech that threatened to shatter his eardrums. The stone in his hand grew colder and colder until—

CRACK!

The stone exploded into razor-sharp shards, piercing the flesh of his hands. 

He sat there trembling, cold sweat running down his back and soaking his pyjamas. "Thanks, Slyther. What... what was that thing?"

"Something best left alone," Slyther replied. "I can stay if you want to try another stone. Might help avoid similar unpleasantness."

The understatement almost made Harry laugh hysterically. He stared at his bloodied hands, watching as crimson droplets fell from where the shattered stone had cut into his palm. The thought of attempting another connection made his stomach churn. 

That being's presence still lingered in his mind like an oil slick on water. Was it a deity? The way it had reached into his thoughts, plucking out memories, suggested power far beyond the norm. Harry shuddered, remembering how it had violated his mind with such casual cruelty.

Despite his trembling hands, Harry picked up the third stone after several steadying breaths. The connection formed with surprising speed.

"Who dares intrude upon my scrying?" a male voice demanded, though curiosity coloured his tone more than anger.

"I'm from Earth," Harry replied. "Using a special method to contact your realm."

"The mortal world?" The voice held a note of genuine interest. "What business could you possibly have with the Fae Realm? There's nothing here of interest, boy."

"First, might I know your name?"

"Call me Incognito."

Harry barely suppressed a snort. The man wasn't even attempting subtlety with his pseudonym. "Very well. You may call me Gambit. I have questions, if you're willing to answer them."

"You're free to ask. I'm equally free to withhold answers."

"Fair enough. Is it possible to travel through gates to the Fae Realm using recently closed rifts?"

"Certainly possible. Though none dare attempt it."

"Why?"

"Because of the Rift Guardian." Incognito's voice dropped. "Even the deities fear it. They'd rather use rituals to enter your realm than face that thing."

Harry's mouth went dry. "Does it have a name?"

"Some call it the Great Enemy. There's a peculiar myth that survivors of encounters with it can't help muttering that name. Though survivors are exceedingly rare."

Harry felt ice crawl up his spine. The description matched the Peverell journal with chilling accuracy.

"Has anyone attempted crossing to Earth through these gates recently?"

"How should I know?" Incognito scoffed. "Only fools would try."

"What about the Great Enemy—could it leave the space between realms?"

"I don't know. That possibility is too terrible to contemplate."

Harry steeled himself before asking his final question. "What do you know about the Source?"

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with sudden tension. When Incognito spoke again, his casual tone had vanished. "How do you know that name?"

"I've encountered it here in my realm," Harry replied carefully.

"So, it has reached even into the mortal world,” Incognito said. “Not much is known about it with certainty. But here, in the Fae realm, its influence is... pervasive. At least half the deities dance to its tune now. Though I'd say that's an improvement—most of them are right bastards anyway."

"Speaking of deities..." He hesitated before describing his earlier encounter, the memory making his freshly healed hand throb.

The sharp intake of breath on the other end was audible. "By the void," Incognito muttered. "I can think of a few beings with the power to pluck thoughts from mortal minds like that. None of them are worth tangling with. The worst of the lot is—"

He broke off abruptly. The silence stretched.

"Who?" Harry pressed, leaning forward. "Who were you going to say?"

"I have to go." 

The connection snapped like a broken string. The stone crumbled in Harry's hands.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked the empty room. "What exactly have I gotten myself involved with?"

The silence that followed offered no answers, only more unsettling questions.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=

1st July

Harry paced in the garden outside his French home. The morning sun was already blazing, making it rather uncomfortable despite the cooling charms Charlus had cast for everyone's comfort. 

Waiting with him were his grandparents, girlfriends, Blaise, and Hermione's parents. They were all accompanying him to America. The Grangers hadn't wanted to miss their usual summer holiday with their daughter, and David, in particular, seemed keen to keep an eye on his daughter. Harry had learned David’s main issue with their relationship was that Harry had multiple girlfriends. Besides that, he didn’t have any objections to Harry dating his daughter.

"Are you certain they said nine o'clock?" Hermione asked, checking her watch for what seemed the hundredth time that morning.

"Yes," Harry replied. "They were quite specific about wanting to show off their latest innovation. I suspect it'll be another flying vehicle, similar to the Potter Mobile."

Harry had been forced to make some difficult decisions to accommodate everything in his schedule. He would spend six weeks in America, covering all of July and half of August. Following that, he would dedicate a week of his remaining fortnight to training in Finland at the European Artisan Guild castle, where he would begin his initial training as a knight. The arrangement would continue throughout his third year, with Sundays reserved for ongoing training sessions.

"Have you got everything packed?" Minerva asked, eyeing the collection of shrunken trunks.

"Triple-checked," Harry assured her.

A distant roar cut him off. Everyone looked skyward, searching for the source of the noise. The sound grew louder, like a commercial jet passing overhead, but they couldn't see anything in the clear blue sky. The noise stopped directly above them as if an invisible aircraft was hovering over the garden.

Suddenly, the air shimmered and a jet materialised. Harry's jaw dropped. It wasn't just any jet—it looked like something straight out of an X-Men comic. Sleek black metal with swept-back wings, about half the size of a regular passenger jet but far more advanced-looking.

"What in Merlin is that thing?” Blaise breathed. 

The aircraft descended. It touched down with surprising grace on the lawn, its engines quieting to a gentle hum that made the air vibrate. 

A ramp extended from the side with a pneumatic hiss, and five people emerged. The first was a tall woman with steel-grey hair pulled back in a severe bun, wearing robes that seemed to blend Muggle business attire with wizarding fashion.

"Elizabeth Chen," she announced crisply, extending her hand to Harry. "Head of Research and Development. This is my team—the ones responsible for our little project here."

She gestured to a massive man with wild red hair and a beard to match. His robes were singed at the edges and what looked like burn-resistant dragonhide peeked out underneath. "Marcus 'Boom' Thompson. Propulsion specialist. Don't ask about the nickname."

"Boom" grinned and lifted a hand that looked capable of crushing stone. "The explosion only destroyed half the lab. The other half was perfectly salvageable."

Next was a tiny red-haired woman who barely reached Harry's shoulder. 

"Dr Nola Willard. Charms and stealth systems." She pushed her round glasses up her nose, studying Harry with intense interest. 

A black man with dreadlocks and an easy smile stepped forward, wearing what appeared to be a Muggle flight suit with magical modifications. "James Carter. Integration of Muggle tech with magic. Also, the only one who can fly this beauty without crashing." 

He winked at "Boom", who rubbed his neck sheepishly.

The last was a nervous-looking man who seemed to be vibrating with barely contained energy. "D-Daniel Fischer. Arithmancy and theoretical frameworks." 

"We call it the Thunderbird," Elizabeth said proudly, gesturing at the jet. 

Harry’s lit up. “From the X-men comics?”

“No,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “But I get the reference. We named it after the magical beast native to our country.”

Gabrielle stepped forward eagerly. “I would love to see a Thunderbird.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange.” Elizabeth turned back to Harry. "The Thunderbird is the first of its kind—a fully magical jet capable of trans-Atlantic flight. Invisible to both Muggle radar and magical detection. The crystalline matrix allows for stable magical fields even at supersonic speeds."

"How did you manage the electronics?" Hermione asked. 

"Containment fields!" Daniel burst out, then blushed at his enthusiasm. "Sorry. We developed specialised shielding that lets electronics function within magical fields. The crystals act as resonance dampeners, creating stable pockets where both magical and electronic systems can coexist. The theoretical applications are endless—we could revolutionise the entire field of magical engineering—"

"Perhaps save the technical discussion for later," Elizabeth interrupted smoothly. "We should get your luggage loaded. The jet's impressive, but we do have a schedule to keep."

While "Boom" and James handled the trunks, Mr Granger approached the jet cautiously. "Is that titanium alloy in the hull structure?"

"Good eye," James replied. "Magically reinforced titanium composite. Lightweight but strong enough to handle the stress of magical propulsion. The outer layer's enchanted to—"

"James," Elizabeth warned. "Classified specs, remember?"

"Right, sorry boss." He grinned apologetically at Mr Granger. "Government secrets and all that.”

They boarded the jet, and collective gasps of appreciation echoed through the cabin. The interior had been expanded to three times the jet’s normal capacity. Comfortable seats lined one side, while the other contained workstations filled with both magical and Muggle equipment.

Harry settled into a seat between Daphne and Gabrielle, with Susan and Hermione across the aisle. The adults arranged themselves towards the front of the cabin.

"This is brilliant," Blaise said, examining a nearby control panel with fascination. "Much more comfortable than a Portkey."

As the engines powered up with a deep thrum, Harry watched through the window as the Thunderbird rose smoothly into the air. The takeoff was so gentle that Charlus, who'd been bracing himself, relaxed visibly.

"Stealth systems engaging," Nora announced, tapping runes on a control panel that looked remarkably futuristic. The jet shimmered and vanished from outside view, though the interior remained visible to its occupants.

“What about the engine noise?” Hermione asked. “Doesn’t that cancel out the stealth?”

“We have that covered as well,” Elizabeth answered. “We only deactivated it to announce our arrival.”

"Next stop, Boston," James called from the cockpit. "About four hours at full speed. Feel free to ask questions.”

Harry exchanged excited glances with his girlfriends. If this was any indication, their American adventure was going to be awesome.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry and co. are introduced to the American magical community.