Harry Potter with Technology System

My dear readers! The rating of the novel fell beneath 4 stars. Please help me with honest rates!

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As they made their way through the crowd, Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, approached with a smile that was both welcoming and shrewd. "Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans, what a pleasure to have you join us this evening," he greeted, extending his hand first to Harry and then to Petunia. Harry, aware of Fudge's reputation for political cunning, returned the gesture with a polite nod, mindful of the Minister's potential to view him as a chess piece in the larger game of wizarding politics.

Fudge, seemingly unfazed by Harry's caution, continued, "Your presence here tonight speaks volumes, Mr. Potter. The Ministry is delighted to have the heir of such a distinguished house among us." His words, though flattering, carried an undertone of calculation, and Harry couldn't help but wonder at the true motives behind them.

Petunia, for her part, responded with a dignified smile, her earlier apprehension about attending the event melting away under the warmth of the reception they received. Her eyes, however, remained observant, taking in the nuances of the interactions around them.

Nigel offered his usual blend of jest and insight. "Ah, rubbing elbows with the cream of the wizarding crop, are we? Do try not to step on any toes, Master Harry. Unless, of course, they deserve it."

Harry suppressed a chuckle at Nigel's comment, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. The ballroom was a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, with guests engaged in animated conversations, laughter ringing out, and the soft strains of magical music filling the air.

As they navigated the sea of guests, Harry and Petunia were approached by the Greengrass family. Daphne, with her characteristic grace, led the group, a smile playing on her lips. Her sister, Astoria, a younger mirror of Daphne with similar elegant features but a more inquisitive spark in her eye, stood beside her. Their parents, Lord and Lady Greengrass, carried themselves with an air of dignified nobility. Lord Greengrass was a tall, imposing figure with sharp eyes that missed nothing, while Lady Greengrass possessed a serene beauty, her manner both warm and refined. Tracey Davis, ever the loyal friend to Daphne, accompanied them, her bright demeanor a complement to the group's elegance.

Harry smiled as he greeted the Greengrass family with the proper formalities expected of such an occasion. He extended a firm handshake to Cyrus Greengrass, noting the solid grip returned, a silent acknowledgment of mutual respect. Turning to Helena Greengrass, Harry offered a softer, more genteel touch, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand in a gesture of noble courtesy. Both Lord and Lady Greengrass reciprocated these greetings with grace, Cyrus mirroring Harry's action by kissing Petunia's hand gently, while Helena exchanged a soft handshake with her, smiles all around marking the warmth of the introduction.

After the formalities, Harry took the opportunity to introduce his aunt. "This is my Aunt Petunia, a remarkable woman who's shown me a great deal about strength and kindness," he said, his voice carrying a note of pride.

Daphne introduced her family in turn. "Harry, Lady Evans, this is my father, Cyrus Greengrass, my mother, Helena, and my sister, Astoria. And, of course, you know Tracey," she said, gesturing to her friend who stood beside Astoria, both sharing a giggle over their shared secret amusement.

Helena Greengrass smiled warmly, "We've heard so much about you, Mr. Potter, all good things, of course," she said, her eyes glancing towards Daphne, whose blush deepened at her mother's words. Tracey and Astoria's laughter seemed to lighten the moment, bridging the gap between formal introductions and the beginnings of a more relaxed conversation.

Nigel, seizing the moment to add his unique perspective, whispered in Harry's mind, "Ah, the dance of introductions, a ballet of names and polite smiles. Makes you miss the simplicity of a broomstick chase, doesn't it?"

Harry, maintaining his composure, agreed with Nigel's sentiment, though the present company made the formalities more than bearable. "Indeed, Nigel. Though, I must admit, there's a certain charm to these exchanges," he thought back, his attention still focused on the Greengrasses.

Cyrus Greengrass, ever the observant patriarch, shifted the conversation towards a more substantial topic. "Your accomplishments at Hogwarts have not gone unnoticed, Heir Potter. It's rare to see someone of your age with such a keen grasp of both practical and theoretical magic."

Petunia, listening intently, felt a swell of pride for Harry. Despite her limited understanding of the magical world, she recognized the weight Cyrus's words carried.

Harry offered a gracious smile, leaning slightly towards Cyrus Greengrass. "Please, call me Harry. Daphne has been nothing short of a steadfast friend," he said, his tone warm and inclusive. Cyrus, acknowledging Harry's request with a nod, couldn't resist transitioning the conversation towards the realms of business and ambition, a topic that seemed to spark his interest more than any other.

"I've come to understand that you've entered into a business arrangement with the Nimbus Racing Broom Company. What inspired such a venture?" Cyrus inquired, his curiosity piqued by the young wizard's entrepreneurial spirit.

Helena, ever the mediator of balance between personal and professional discussion, playfully interjected, "Dear, must we dive into business matters so swiftly?" Her question, light and teasing, elicited a round of laughter from Astoria, whose youthful mirth added a layer of lightheartedness to the gathering.

Harry, unfazed by the shift towards business, responded with a thoughtful smile. "The initial dealings were managed by Mr. Grimbletack, the overseer of my family's vault. However, upon corresponding with Mr. Whitehorn of Nimbus, I recognized an opportunity not just for investment but for fostering a deeper engagement with Quidditch at the school level," he explained, his tone reflective of the strategic thinking behind his decision. "Having been brought up in the non-magical world, I've observed the significant interest Muggles have in sports. It made me believe that transforming a school event into something grander could not only enhance the sport's appeal but also bridge certain cultural gaps."

Cyrus listened intently, his eyes narrowing slightly in appreciation of Harry's insight. "Intriguing," he mused, "taking advantage of your unique perspective to innovate within our world. A commendable approach."

Harry accepted the praise with a polite nod and a thankful smile. "Thank you, Lord Greengrass.”

The man, whose stern expression had softened over the course of their conversation, responded with a warm tone, "Just call me Cyrus, Harry."

"Cyrus, from what I've heard, the Greengrass family has been a leader in supplying potion ingredients across most of Europe," Harry probed, his tone conveying both respect and genuine interest.

Cyrus, his interest piqued, nodded affirmatively. "Indeed, Harry. For generations, we've been dedicated to the cultivation and distribution of high-quality potion ingredients. It's a legacy we hold in high regard. Do you find yourself drawn to this line of work?"

Harry's smile broadened as he regarded Cyrus Greengrass, his interest in potions and their potential collaboration evident. "Indeed, I have a keen interest in potions. I wouldn't claim to be a master potioneer, but my everyday potions maintain a consistent quality, and I've been exploring the possibility of producing them in batches. I was hoping we might explore a collaborative venture," Harry proposed, the formality of their conversation gradually easing as they delved into the specifics of their potential partnership.

Cyrus, intrigued by the offer, raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "By 'consistent quality,' what exactly do you mean?" he inquired, a blend of curiosity and business acumen evident in his tone.

Harry reached into his pocket, retrieving a pouch that seemed to be more capacious than its appearance suggested. From within, he produced twelve potions, carefully arranged in a neat row. "Cure for Boils, Forgetfulness Potion, Herbicide Potion, Wiggenweld Potion, Antidote to Common Poisons, Pompion Potion, Strength Potion, Hair-Raising Potion, Fire Protection Potion, Strengthening Solution, Swelling Solution, Girding Potion," he listed, presenting them to Cyrus for inspection.