Harry Potter with Technology System

Ch225- Mrs. Zabini

When he arrived home, Petunia was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. She glanced up as he entered, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "How was your day, Harry?" she asked, her tone more genuine, as she wiped her hands to her apron and came sat near him.

Harry shrugged. "Eventful. I met with Sirius and caught up with some things." He paused, considering how much to reveal. "We might have some new opportunities to explore over the summer."

Petunia nodded, seeming to accept his vague answer. "Well, dinner will be ready soon. Make sure you're cleaned up."

After cleaning up, Harry headed downstairs for dinner. Following their meal, they spent some time watching a movie and working in the greenhouse. When night fell, Harry returned to his room to focus on his other projects. He took out a magical book and willed it to reveal a profile. The name "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore" appeared on the page.

Creating the Duelling Club, Harry had considered many other aspects. One of the main purposes of the magical books was to track the progress and abilities of everyone in the castle. Even the graduates still carried their magical books, and as long as they didn’t block the tracking, Harry could monitor their progress. At the moment, Dumbledore's magical book showed only ten spells, but they weren't randomly selected. The first letters of the ten spells spelled out "Hello Harry."

Grinning, Harry closed the book. "He’s the strongest wizard for a reason."

Nigel nodded, his tone dry. "It appears the old headmaster can still see through your small schemes, Master Harry. The question is, why does he allow it? Perhaps he's hoping to keep an eye on you."

Harry shook his head. "This scheme was designed to be found, Nigel. It will give him the false confidence that he can still understand me."

Nigel’s voice carried a note of warning. "A cunning plan, indeed. Just be cautious not to let overconfidence become your downfall, Master Harry."

Settling into his bed, Harry pondered his next moves. "Tomorrow, I'll meet with my friends, then take a trip to Africa. Nicolas said I can master Astral Soul there better. The oldest tribes of the motherland are still attuned to the origin soul, while we've forgotten its existence and depend on wands to cast magic."

He knew the journey wouldn't be easy, but mastering Astral Soul was crucial. The tribes had a deep connection with magic that predated wands and spells. They relied on the raw, unfiltered power of the soul, a practice long lost in modern wizarding society. Harry's goal was to learn this ancient magic, to strengthen his abilities and gain an edge over his enemies.

Nigel's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Master Harry, do you realize the significance of this trip? The knowledge you'll gain could be transformative."

Harry chuckled, "Literally, once I learn Astral Soul, I can also master animagus, making this journey quite transformative."

Nigel's voice resonated with amusement, "Indeed, Master Harry. The possibilities are endless. Just think of the applications—enhanced perception, evading detection, and of course, the ability to turn into an animal at will. Quite the upgrade."

"Exactly, Nigel. Plus, there's so much more to uncover about ancient magic," Harry replied, feeling a surge of excitement. "The tribes in Africa have knowledge that’s been passed down for generations, untouched by modern wizarding society."

Nigel continued, "And that, Master Harry, is what makes it invaluable. The purity and raw power of such ancient magic could give you an edge that few others possess. It's not just about mastering spells; it's about understanding the very essence of magic itself."

Harry then considered what Nicolas had told him about his contact in Africa. "Nicolas said his contact will help me, but I should still be cautious. It sounds like the tribes aren't as peaceful as I imagined," he thought. His initial impression, when Zabini had talked about his father last year, was that they would be like monks in the Himalayas. However, Harry now realized that while Himalayan monks also have ancient magical systems and meditation techniques for discovering the Astral Soul, they focus more on the boundaries of magic. In contrast, the African tribes prioritize the Astral Soul itself.

"Master Harry," Nigel's voice interrupted his thoughts, "it's clear that while these tribes may possess invaluable knowledge, their ways might be challenging to navigate. You must be prepared for anything."

Harry nodded. "You're right, Nigel. Let's see what awaits us."

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, Harry met with his friends. They spent a short time catching up, sharing plans for the summer, and wishing good luck for their new adventures. After bidding his friends goodbye, Harry returned home.

Back in his room, Harry wrote a letter to Zabini, requesting a meeting the next afternoon in front of the Ministry to take an official portkey. The journey would involve two jumps: from Britain to Spain, and then from Spain to Nigeria, where they would meet Zabini's father, a member of a local Nigerian tribe. With the letter sent, Harry turned his focus to his last day with Petunia.

The rest of the day was spent quietly. Petunia went about her usual activities, while Harry made sure everything was in order for his trip. They shared dinner together, and although the conversation was light, there was an sullen mood of early departure between them. Petunia, although not overtly emotional, seemed to appreciate Harry’s presence.

In the evening, Harry decided to spend some time in the greenhouse. Petunia joined him, tending to her favorite plants. It was a silent but companionable time, the hum of summer insects and the scent of blooming flowers filling the air. Harry found the quiet tasks of watering plants and pruning leaves soothing, a pleasant contrast to the constant planning and strategizing he was usually engaged in.

As night fell, Harry retired to his room. He opened his enchanted briefcase and entered the mansion within. There, he reviewed his plans, ensuring he was prepared for the journey to Africa. He took a moment to check on the diary of Tom Riddle, confirming it was secure. The dark artifact radiated its usual malevolent energy, but Harry was confident in his containment measures.

The next morning, Harry awoke early, feeling refreshed and ready. After a quick breakfast, he said his goodbyes to Petunia, who wished him a safe journey with a brief but genuine smile. Harry appreciated her efforts to connect, however subtle they might be. He gathered his belongings and set off towards the Ministry, where he would meet Zabini and begin the next leg of his journey.

Arriving in front of the Ministry, Harry spotted Zabini standing with an incredibly beautiful woman. Her presence was striking, with flowing dark hair, perfectly styled, and sharp, intelligent eyes that assessed everything around her with an air of confidence.

Using Observe, Harry read, "[Elisabetta Zabini. Cunning, ambitious, with a knack for navigating social and political spheres. Ambitious intent detected.]"

Harry focused on the last sentence, his curiosity piqued.

"Harry, meet my mother, Elisabetta Zabini," Blaise introduced, pride evident in his voice.

Elisabetta extended her hand gracefully, her gaze locking onto Harry with a mix of curiosity and calculation. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry," she said, her voice smooth and confident.

Taking her hand, Harry placed a soft kiss on it. "The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Zabini," he replied, his tone polite and measured. Harry was no stranger to the social intricacies of the magical world and knew how to navigate them adeptly.

Elisabetta's eyes twinkled with approval. "I've heard a great deal about you from Blaise. It seems you have quite the reputation."

Harry smiled modestly. "I do my best to live up to it."

Nigel's voice chimed in his mind, as always, laced with dry humor. "Master Harry, it appears you've made quite an impression. I do believe she's sizing you up as we speak."

Harry responded mentally, "As expected, Nigel. She's the Zabini after all."

Elisabetta turned to her son. "Blaise, darling, why don't you go ahead and take care of our arrangements inside? I'd like a moment with Harry."

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