Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, its characters, or its universe. All original elements belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This story is a work of fanfiction created purely for entertainment purposes - no copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made. Any original characters, events, or concepts beyond the established canon are the author's own creative additions to expand the magical world respectfully.
______________________________
Harry barely remembered how he got from Craftsmanship to the Hufflepuff common room.
His feet carried him there on muscle memory, his mind still wrapped around airflow vectors, rune density, and tensile stress equations. The Adaptable Room had shifted into a quiet research lab configuration the moment he stepped inside, recognizing his intent.
A wide oak workbench stood in the center.
Soft amber lights hovered above.
Magical drafting paper lay neatly stacked.
Harry dropped his satchel onto a chair and pulled out the aluminium wing segment.
He laid it down carefully, like it was made of glass.
Almost there.
He dipped his quill into ink and added a final annotation to his article.
"Runic interference coefficient stabilizes at 0.002 under sustained magical output..."
He paused.
Chewed his lip.
Crossed out "sustained."
Wrote "prolonged."
Better.
He added one last sketch—an exploded diagram of the wing's internal structure.
He leaned back, rubbing his eyes.
Finish this. Just finish this.
He etched one final micro-rune into the aluminium.
"Sigillum aequilibrium."
The metal hummed softly and then stilled.
Harry let out a long breath.
"...Done."
He slumped forward, resting his forehead against the table.
Maple, who had been curled up beside the bench, lifted her head and let out a soft woof.
Harry smiled weakly.
"Yeah. I know. I forgot the world again."
Time slipped by unnoticed.
The lights dimmed subtly as evening crept in.
Harry was annotating a footnote when the door creaked open.
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry jolted.
"Oh—Professor Sprout!"
She stood there with her usual warm smile, hands folded gently in front of her.
"My dear boy," she said kindly, "have you packed your things yet?"
Harry blinked.
"...Packed?"
Sprout raised an eyebrow.
"For Switzerland."
Silence.
Harry's eyes widened.
"Oh."
Then—
"Oh no."
Then—
"Oh Merlin, no, no, no—"
He shot to his feet, knocking over a stool.
"I completely forgot! I didn't pack anything! I haven't even thought about clothes or notes or my article copies or—"
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing.
"I'm supposed to leave tomorrow. Tomorrow! Professor, I haven't even chosen which robes to take!"
Sprout bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"Harry."
He froze.
She smiled gently.
"Breathe."
He inhaled sharply.
Exhaled.
She chuckled softly.
"It is rather endearing, you know. The world's youngest Order of Merlin nominee nearly forgetting he's going to Switzerland because he's busy building aeroplane wings."
Harry flushed.
"I'm really sorry, Professor. I just—"
"I know," she said warmly. "And I'm proud of you for your dedication. But do finish up and go to dinner. Then pack."
He nodded rapidly.
"Yes. Dinner. Packing. Switzerland. Right."
Sprout turned to leave, still smiling.
"I shall expect to see a far less flustered Harry Potter tomorrow morning."
"No promises," he muttered.
He packed up his notes, wrapped the aluminium wing section, and stuffed everything into his satchel.
Maple bounded to her feet the moment he slung it over his shoulder.
"Come on," Harry told her. "Let's go face reality."
They made their way to the Great Hall.
The doors swung open.
Noise washed over him.
The Thirteen were sitting at the Gryffindor table tonight.
The moment Harry stepped in—
"HARRY!"
Susan waved wildly.
Hannah beamed.
Justin shot to his feet.
Ron practically knocked over his goblet standing up.
Maple trotted proudly beside Harry, tail wagging.
Harry made his way over, blushing faintly as students glanced at him.
He sat between Hermione and Daphne.
"About time," Hermione said briskly. "Have you prepared your acceptance speech?"
Harry choked on his pumpkin juice.
"Acceptance speech?!"
Daphne grinned. "Obviously."
"You're assuming I'll win," Harry muttered.
Hermione waved dismissively. "Please. You're a lock."
Daphne leaned closer. "Start with gratitude, then humility, then subtle brilliance."
Harry buried his face in his hands.
"I hate all of you."
Susan squeezed his arm. "You're going to be amazing."
Justin nodded firmly. "We're all proud of you."
Rolf raised his goblet. "To Harry Potter, inventor, healer-in-training, and future Order of Merlin recipient."
Harry groaned.
Then—
The hall fell silent.
Dumbledore stood.
His blue eyes twinkled gently.
"My dear students," he said warmly, "as you all know, one of our own has been nominated for the Order of Merlin, First Class."
A ripple of murmurs.
"Mr. Harry Potter departs soon for Switzerland, where the International Confederation of Wizards shall hold this year's ceremony."
Polite applause filled the hall.
"We wish him all the best, on behalf of all of Hogwarts."
Harry turned red.
He stood awkwardly and gave a tiny bow.
Maple barked once.
The hall laughed softly.
Harry sat back down, mortified.
Ron leaned over. "You're a celebrity dog dad now."
After dinner, Harry clipped Maple's leash on.
"Ready, girl?"
She wagged enthusiastically.
He made his way toward the staff corridor.
His mind drifted.
I can't believe I'm actually going.
Then—
He remembered.
The Floo call.
Cyrus's voice crackling through the flames.
"Mr. Potter, securing an international animal travel permit for a magically enhanced golden retriever is far more complicated than it should be."
Harry had clasped his hands together.
"Please, Mr. Greengrass. I can't go without her."
Cyrus sighed deeply.
"...Very well. I shall petition the Swiss Magical Authority, the ICW, and the Department of Magical Creatures. You owe me a favor."
Harry had grinned so hard his face hurt.
"I owe you several."
He glanced down at Maple now.
"We did it," he murmured.
Maple licked his hand.
Tomorrow, he thought.
Switzerland.
Order of Merlin.
And whatever nightmare is hunting me...
I'm not running from it.
______________________________
December 1, 1991.
Harry stood outside Professor Sprout's office at exactly six in the morning, his travel bag slung over one shoulder, Maple sitting neatly at his feet with her own tiny enchanted satchel strapped around her back.
He was wearing formal travelling robes layered over a warm jumper, his wand secured in his holster, and his hair only slightly less unruly than usual.
Maple's tail thumped softly against the stone floor.
Harry glanced at the door, then at his watch.
"Six on the dot," he murmured. "Told you, girl. No oversleeping today."
Maple let out a proud little woof.
The door opened.
"Right on time, Mr. Potter," Professor Sprout said warmly.
He stepped inside.
The office was fuller than he expected.
Professor Dumbledore stood near the fireplace, hands folded serenely.
Professor Flitwick was perched on a stack of books, smiling brightly.
Professor McGonagall stood very straight beside him, looking faintly proud.
Professor Snape leaned against a cabinet, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Professor Fletcher stood near the wall, sword resting casually at his side.
Madam Pomfrey was already striding toward him.
Professor Sinistra stood quietly near the window.
Harry froze for half a second.
"...Oh."
Sprout chuckled softly.
"Surprise."
Madam Pomfrey reached him first.
She cupped his cheeks firmly.
"Look at you," she said briskly. "All packed and ready. My little apprentice going international."
Harry flushed.
"I'm still your apprentice even if I'm in Switzerland for two days, Madam Pomfrey."
"Damn right you are," she said fondly. "And don't you dare forget everything I've taught you just because you're collecting medals."
Maple barked.
Pomfrey bent and scratched behind Maple's ears.
"And you," she added, "you keep him calm. No dramatic heroics."
Harry laughed nervously.
Dumbledore stepped forward.
"Harry, my boy," he said gently. "We are all exceedingly proud of you."
Flitwick hopped down.
"Absolutely brilliant," he squeaked. "Youngest nominee in history. Do wave if you spot any international charm innovators."
McGonagall inclined her head.
"Conduct yourself with dignity, Mr. Potter."
Harry nodded.
"Yes, Professor."
Snape spoke dryly.
"Try not to embarrass Hogwarts."
Harry blinked.
"...I'll do my best, sir."
Fletcher grinned.
"If anything explodes, write it down."
Sinistra smiled softly.
"Bring back pictures of the sky there."
Sprout squeezed his shoulder.
"You'll do wonderfully."
Harry swallowed.
"Thank you. All of you."
Dumbledore lifted his wand.
"Ignis apertum."
The Floo flared emerald.
Harry knelt and hugged Sprout tightly.
Then Dumbledore which surprised the old man.
Then Madam Pomfrey again.
"Don't forget to eat," she warned.
"I won't!"
Harry scooped Maple up.
They stepped into the flames.
Whoosh.
They tumbled out into Cyrus Greengrass's office.
"Easy, easy—"
Harry stumbled, caught by Vernon's hands.
"Got you, sport."
"Uncle Vernon!"
Petunia rushed forward and hugged him tightly.
"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured. "You look so grown up."
Sirius crouched down.
"There he is," he said warmly. "My international celebrity godson."
Maple bounded straight into Sirius's chest.
"Oof—"
He laughed, rubbing her head.
"Missed you too, mutt."
Cyrus stood behind his desk, impeccably dressed.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter," he said calmly. "And Miss Maple."
Harry grinned.
"Good morning, Mr. Greengrass."
Cyrus gestured to the sofa.
"Portkey is scheduled for eight o'clock sharp."
Harry sat. Sirius dropped beside him. Vernon and Petunia sat across. Cyrus continued, businesslike.
"We will portkey directly to Zürich." He checked his watch. "Due to the one-hour time difference, it will be nine in the morning there."
Harry nodded. Petunia clasped her hands. "So exciting."
Vernon leaned back.
"The hotel's a Muggle one," he explained. "Baur au Lac, Zürich."
Harry's eyes widened slightly.
"That sounds fancy."
Petunia beamed. "We'll have one room. You'll share with Sirius. Cyrus has his own."
Sirius smirked.
"I promise not to snore."
Vernon snorted.
"You lie."
Harry laughed.
Vernon continued, "We'll have today free. Ceremony is tomorrow evening at seven. Reporting time is five."
Harry nodded, "So... sightseeing day."
Petunia clapped softly, "Oh, I can't wait. Mountains, chocolate, lakes—"
Maple barked approvingly.
Cyrus checked his pocket watch.
"Ten minutes."
Harry's stomach fluttered.
This is actually happening.
Sirius nudged him.
"You okay, pup?"
Harry nodded.
"Just... everything."
Vernon squeezed his shoulder.
"You've earned this."
Petunia kissed his hair.
"We're so proud of you."
Cyrus placed a small silver disk on the table. "This is the portkey."
Harry stared at it. Maple tilted her head. Cyrus raised his wand. "Tempus vinculum."
The disk glowed faintly blue.
"Three minutes," Cyrus said calmly.
Harry took a deep breath.
Switzerland.
Order of Merlin.
Whatever comes next...
I'm ready.
The portkey shimmered.
The silver disk pulsed once.
"Everyone ready?" Cyrus asked calmly.
Harry tightened his grip on Maple's harness.
"I think so," he said, heart hammering.
Petunia squeezed Vernon's arm.
"Right," Vernon muttered. "Here goes nothing."
They all reached out.
The world wrenched.
Portus.
Harry felt the familiar hook behind his navel, his stomach flipping violently as space folded around him.
There was a blur of wind and light—
—and then stone rushed up at him.
He landed hard on his feet, staggered forward two steps, pinwheeled his arms, and only just managed to stay upright.
"I'm good—whoa—"
Maple, who had landed half a second later, yelped and promptly bowled straight into his knees.
"Oof!"
Harry went down on his back with a soft thud, Maple sprawled dramatically across his chest.
Sirius had landed in a neat crouch and straightened fluidly.
Cyrus adjusted his coat, having arrived perfectly on his feet.
Vernon landed solidly and upright—
—but Petunia stumbled forward out of the arrival shimmer.
"Oh—!"
Vernon caught her automatically, one arm around her waist, the other bracing her back.
They froze like that for half a second.
Sirius stared.
Harry stared.
Maple stared.
Petunia blinked up at Vernon.
"...Well," she said faintly.
Vernon coughed.
"Er—steady there, love."
Sirius snorted.
"Merlin's pants, you two look like a romance novel cover."
Petunia flushed.
"Put me down, Vernon."
He did, carefully.
Harry groaned and pushed himself upright, Maple licking his chin enthusiastically.
"Traitor," he muttered fondly.
They were standing in a wide, marble-floored atrium with high vaulted ceilings inlaid with shimmering runes.
A silver crest hovered above the far wall:
Bundesministerium für Magie – Schweiz.
Two uniformed witches and a wizard in dark blue robes approached briskly.
"Guten Morgen," one of them said crisply. "Willkommen in der Schweizerischen Zauberer Gemeinschaft."
(Good morning. Welcome to the Swiss magical community.)
Cyrus stepped forward smoothly.
"Guten Morgen," he replied fluently. "Cyrus Greengrass, legal counsel. These are my clients and associates."
Harry's eyebrows rose.
Okay, wow. He sounds properly native.
The security witch raised her wand.
"Bitte stillhalten."
(Please remain still.)
A soft blue grid washed over all of them.
"Magiscan."
The grid flickered around Harry for a fraction of a second longer.
The witch glanced at her reader, then nodded.
"All clear."
Cyrus produced a thick folder.
"Here are our arrival credentials, ICW nomination papers, Ministry transit permits, Muggle integration documents, and animal travel authorization."
She accepted them, flipping through with impressive speed.
"Hund travel permit included," Cyrus added, nodding at Maple.
Maple wagged her tail proudly.
Five minutes later, they were each handed a slim packet of enchanted parchment and charmed identification cards.
"These will provide appropriate concealment charms and linguistic overlays in Muggle-dense zones," the wizard explained. "If questioned by Swiss Muggle authorities, present these."
Vernon took his packet gingerly.
"Right. Fake passports but magical."
Cyrus smiled thinly.
"More like magically valid legal identities."
They turned—
—and nearly collided with a tall wizard in formal emerald robes adorned with an ICW pin.
"Ah," he said warmly. "Herr Greengrass."
Cyrus inclined his head.
"Ambassador Keller."
The man turned to Harry.
"You must be Lord Potter," he said politely. "I am Ambassador Lukas Keller, ICW liaison for Switzerland."
Harry straightened instinctively.
"Harry Potter, sir."
Keller smiled kindly.
"An honor. Your nomination has created quite a stir."
Harry flushed.
"I hope... in a good way."
"Very much so."
They exchanged a few pleasantries.
Keller nodded.
"I shall see you all tomorrow evening at the ceremony. Until then, enjoy Zürich."
"Vielen Dank," Cyrus replied.
(Thank you very much.)
Harry blinked.
"See? Fluent," Sirius murmured.
They exited the Ministry through a discreet alley door.
A black Muggle taxi was already waiting.
The driver tipped his hat.
"Hotel Baur au Lac?"
"Yes," Vernon said.
The ride was quiet at first.
Harry pressed his face to the window.
The lake shimmered blue.
Snow-dusted mountains loomed faintly in the distance.
"This place is unreal," he breathed.
Petunia clasped her hands.
"Oh, it's beautiful."
Sirius grinned.
"Wait till we hit chocolate shops."
They pulled up to the grand entrance.
Uniformed staff opened the doors.
Inside, polished marble, chandeliers, and plush red carpeting.
Cyrus handled check-in efficiently.
Keys were handed over.
"You'll find your luggage already delivered," the concierge said.
Vernon checked his watch.
"Let's meet back here at eleven."
Sirius stretched.
"Deal."
Harry scooped Maple up.
"Room tour, girl."
They headed for the lifts.
Switzerland.
I'm really here.
The lift doors closed softly behind them.
______________________________
The door to their joint room clicked shut behind them.
Sirius dropped his bag near the sofa and stretched luxuriously.
"Well," he said, grinning, "not exactly the Leaky Cauldron, is it?"
Harry laughed softly and set Maple's leash down.
Maple immediately trotted over to the enormous bed, leapt up, and flopped onto her back with a dramatic sigh.
"Traitor," Harry muttered fondly. "That was supposed to be my spot."
The room was elegant but cozy, with tall windows overlooking the lake, cream-colored curtains, and polished wooden floors.
Harry opened his bag and pulled out jeans, a hoodie, and trainers.
"I feel weird not wearing robes," he admitted.
Sirius was already shrugging into a black jumper and dark jeans.
"Get used to it, kid. Today, you're just a normal tourist with an unhealthy number of bodyguards."
Harry snorted.
He changed quickly, then crouched to adjust Maple's harness.
"All right, girl. You're officially an international traveler now."
Maple wagged her tail proudly.
They stepped out into the corridor—
—and immediately froze.
"...Which way was the lift again?" Sirius asked.
Harry turned left.
They walked thirty seconds.
Dead end.
"...That's a wall," Sirius said thoughtfully.
Harry turned right.
They passed three identical paintings and two identical potted plants.
"...I swear that plant just judged me," Sirius muttered.
Harry sighed and rubbed his temple.
"Okay. Okay. Think. The lobby was... down... and... right... I think?"
They took another turn.
Ten seconds later, they were back outside their own door.
Sirius stared at the room number.
"...We've walked in a circle."
Harry groaned.
"Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."
A hotel staff member walked past.
Harry cleared his throat and switched to careful German.
"Entschuldigung. Können Sie uns bitte zur Lobby zeigen?"
(Excuse me. Could you please show us the way to the lobby?)
The man smiled politely.
"Natürlich. Folgen Sie mir bitte."
(Of course. Please follow me.)
Sirius blinked.
"Well. That was impressive."
Harry flushed faintly.
"I'm not fluent yet. But... enough to not get us permanently lost."
They reached the lobby at 11:05.
Vernon looked at his watch.
"Five minutes late."
Petunia raised an eyebrow.
"You two get lost already?"
Sirius spread his hands.
"Architectural betrayal."
Cyrus was waiting near the concierge desk.
"Ah, good. You're all here."
They headed to the hotel dining area for lunch.
The room was bathed in natural light, with white linen tablecloths, soft piano music, and attentive servers moving gracefully between tables.
Harry stared at the menu.
"...Why does everything here sound like it belongs in a cooking show?"
Petunia smiled.
"That's Europe for you."
They ordered.
The food arrived in elegant portions.
Harry took one bite of his pasta and froze.
"...Oh. Oh wow."
Sirius took a forkful of his steak.
"Merlin help me, I may never eat British food again."
Petunia laughed softly.
"This is marvelous."
Vernon nodded approvingly.
"I don't even know what half these herbs are, but I approve of all of them."
Maple received a discreet plate of grilled chicken from a smiling waiter.
Cyrus dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
"I regret to abandon you all," he said, standing, "but I must attend to ICW paperwork and ceremony logistics."
He turned to Harry.
"You behave."
Harry smiled.
"Yes, sir."
Cyrus gestured toward the entrance.
"I've arranged a tour guide. Multilingual. Reliable. Knows the city well."
Harry straightened proudly.
"I know German, French, Spanish, and English."
Sirius blinked.
"You know four languages?"
Harry shrugged.
"Fluent in all except German."
Sirius stared.
"...When exactly did this happen?"
Harry winced.
"Primary school. And... spare time."
Cyrus smiled faintly.
"Impressive."
They exited the hotel lobby a few minutes later.
A cheerful man in his thirties waved.
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes."
"I'm Lukas Weber," he said warmly. "Your guide for today."
Sirius eyed him.
"How many languages do you speak?"
Lukas laughed.
"German, English, French, Spanish."
Harry grinned.
"Same. Except my German is still terrible."
Lukas chuckled.
"We'll practice."
They walked along the lakefront.
Harry took photos.
Petunia took more photos.
Sirius photobombed most of them.
Vernon pretended not to enjoy himself and failed.
They visited old streets, chocolate shops, historic bridges.
Harry tried Swiss chocolate.
"...I understand why people commit crimes for this."
They bought souvenirs.
Maple charmed everyone she met.
Petunia clasped Harry's hand at one point.
"This is wonderful, dear."
Harry smiled softly.
"Yeah. It really is."
The sun dipped lower over the Alps.
Harry checked the time.
"...We should head back soon."
Sirius slung an arm around his shoulders.
"Tomorrow's the big night."
Harry swallowed.
Tomorrow, everything changes.
They turned back toward the hotel, Maple trotting proudly at Harry's side.
______________________________
The next morning dawned crisp and bright.
Harry finished his breakfast with unusual speed, nerves fluttering in his stomach, though he tried not to show it.
Petunia folded her napkin neatly.
"All right, then. Magical market first."
Sirius grinned.
"Tourist Harry, round two."
They took a short walk to the hidden entrance, tucked between two perfectly ordinary Swiss buildings.
Cyrus tapped a bronze sigil embedded in the wall.
Flecto Revelare.
The air shimmered.
A bustling magical street unfolded before them, filled with floating lanterns, shop signs written in enchanted script, and witches and wizards in everything from robes to tailored Muggle coats.
Harry's eyes went wide.
"...This is brilliant."
Petunia laughed softly.
"You sound like it's Diagon Alley all over again."
Harry nodded eagerly.
"Except... Alpine edition."
They wandered through stalls selling enchanted cuckoo clocks, crystal snow globes showing real blizzards, chocolate frogs wearing lederhosen, and carved wands with silver mountain inlays.
Harry stopped at a small trinket shop.
"These are perfect."
He picked out enchanted bookmarks for Hermione and Lisa, a miniature broom model for Ron, a precision-compass charm for Terry, a tiny alchemical hourglass for Neville, and matching silver bracelets for Susan and Hannah.
He paused, thoughtful, then chose a deep-blue scarf with subtle phoenix-thread embroidery.
"...Ginny will love this."
Petunia's eyes softened.
"Someone special?"
Harry turned pink.
"Just... my best pen pal."
Sirius smirked.
"Sure, kid."
They moved on.
Harry bought a music box for Daphne, sketching pencils for Lisa, enchanted glass marbles for Justin, and a tiny stained-glass wolf for Rolf.
Cyrus raised an eyebrow.
"You're very thorough."
Harry shrugged.
"They've all been really kind to me."
By early afternoon, they returned to the hotel.
The room buzzed with quiet urgency.
Formal robes, polished shoes, dress coats.
Harry stood before the mirror in deep emerald robes embroidered with the Potter crest.
Gold thread shimmered softly.
He swallowed.
Okay. Just breathe.
Petunia adjusted his collar.
"You look wonderful, sweetheart."
Vernon cleared his throat.
"Very dignified. Very... Lord Potter."
Sirius knelt slightly to Harry's eye level.
"Proud of you."
Cyrus checked his watch.
"Car arrives at four."
At exactly four, a sleek black ICW car pulled up.
The driver opened the door.
"Lord Potter."
Harry's heart thumped.
They all boarded.
The city glided past in silence.
Vernon placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"You've earned this."
Petunia squeezed his hand.
"No matter what happens, we're proud of you."
Sirius leaned closer.
"Remember, breathe."
Cyrus spoke quietly.
"You will be seated in the Nominee Section. Do not stand unless addressed. If you are called, walk calmly, accept with your right hand, and bow once to the dais."
Harry nodded.
"Yes, sir."
He bent down and petted Maple.
"I'll be back soon, girl."
Maple licked his cheek.
The car stopped.
The ICW Hall rose before them, grand and luminous.
Cyrus straightened.
"All right. This is it."
They stepped out.
Inside, ushers guided them.
Petunia, Vernon, and Sirius were led toward the audience section.
Harry was gently guided toward the Nominee Section.
He paused and looked back.
Petunia blew him a kiss.
Sirius gave a thumbs-up.
Cyrus walked beside him.
"Will Dumbledore be here?" Harry whispered.
Cyrus nodded.
"He is the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW."
Harry swallowed.
"...Will Fudge be here?"
"Likely. As a guest."
Harry exhaled slowly.
"And... who presents the Order of Merlin?"
Cyrus's expression grew solemn.
"Most likely Dumbledore himself."
Harry's chest tightened.
They reached his seat.
He sat.
Lights dimmed.
A hush fell.
This is really happening.
Cyrus gave Harry one last reassuring nod and moved off toward the audience section, his dark robes vanishing into the soft golden-lit crowd.
______________________________
Harry shifted slightly in his seat.
Okay. Just... sit. Breathe.
He glanced around.
The Nominee Section was slowly filling.
A witch in elegant emerald robes sat two rows ahead, her hair braided with silver thread.
A tall wizard with deep scars across his jaw took a seat three chairs away, murmuring politely to the usher.
Then the seat beside Harry filled.
She looked about nineteen or twenty, athletic build, caramel-brown skin, hair tied into a high ponytail, dressed in sleek navy-blue formal robes with a silver eagle crest.
She turned and smiled.
"Hi. First time?"
Harry blinked, then nodded.
"Yeah. Um... Harry."
She extended her hand.
"Alyssa Carter. United States."
Harry shook it gently.
"Nice to meet you."
She leaned back slightly.
"What are you nominated for?"
Harry hesitated.
"Uh... discovery. A new alloy. For medical prosthetics."
Her eyes widened.
"Wait. Potter's Eterna Alloy?"
Harry flushed.
"...Yes."
"Oh my God."
She laughed softly.
"I'm sitting next to a literal legend. I'm nominated for the International Arcane Athletics Award. Competitive dueling."
Harry tilted his head.
"That's amazing."
She waved a hand.
"Not compared to curing half the magical world's prosthetics problems."
He smiled shyly.
"That's... very generous of you."
Alyssa studied him for a moment.
"You're really eleven, aren't you?"
Harry nodded.
She shook her head in disbelief.
"You're absolutely winning."
Harry swallowed.
"I... hope so."
She leaned closer, voice warm.
"Trust me. Your discovery is being called the discovery of the century back home. Even our healers are furious they didn't think of it first."
Harry let out a small, nervous laugh.
"That... helps. Thank you."
At precisely five o'clock, a soft chime echoed through the grand hall.
The lights dimmed.
A hush fell.
A tall wizard in ceremonial silver-and-white robes stepped onto the dais.
"Honoured witches and wizards, esteemed dignitaries, and distinguished nominees," he said, his voice magically amplified yet gentle, "on behalf of the International Confederation of Wizards, Switzerland Office, I welcome you to the ICW Awards Ceremony of 1991."
Polite applause filled the hall.
"We gather tonight to celebrate brilliance, courage, discovery, and service to our world."
He gestured.
"And now, to open our ceremony—"
A troupe of performers swept onto the stage, conjuring ribbons of light that transformed into floating constellations.
Harry watched, entranced.
Okay. This is... unreal.
The performance ended in a cascade of glowing stars.
Then a pair of ushers wheeled out a massive potted plant.
Harry blinked.
"...Is that a tree?"
Alyssa whispered, amused.
"Swiss humour?"
The host smiled.
"Please welcome the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards—Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."
The hall erupted in applause.
The potted plant gently shuffled forward.
The trunk split open.
With a soft pop of blue smoke, Dumbledore emerged from within it, robes immaculate, beard twinkling, eyes alight with humour.
He bowed deeply.
Harry felt his chest tighten.
That's... my Headmaster.
Dumbledore tapped the podium.
"Thank you, thank you. I must say, it is not every day one is introduced by shrubbery."
Laughter rippled through the hall.
He continued warmly.
"It is my great honour to welcome you all to this celebration of magical excellence."
More applause.
The host returned.
"And now, please welcome His Excellency, Minister Hans Meier of Switzerland."
A dignified wizard with salt-and-pepper hair stepped forward.
He spoke briefly about unity, cooperation, and international progress.
Then came the procession of guests of honour.
High-ranking officials from France, Japan, Brazil, Egypt, India, and Canada.
Harry spotted Cornelius Fudge among them, smiling pompously and waving.
Alyssa leaned in.
"Isn't that your Minister?"
Harry nodded.
"...Unfortunately."
She snorted softly.
Another performance followed—an orchestral illusion of phoenixes flying across the ceiling.
As servers floated by with enchanted trays, Harry accepted a small plate.
Tiny herb-crusted rolls.
Crystal goblets of pumpkin-infused sparkling juice.
He took a cautious bite.
Okay. That's ridiculously good.
Finally, the Swiss Ambassador returned to the podium.
"Honoured guests," he said, "we now invite the Supreme Mugwump to deliver the opening address, after which the presentation of the ICW Awards shall commence."
Dumbledore rose again.
Harry's pulse hammered.
Alyssa whispered.
"This is it."
Harry folded his hands tightly in his lap.
Please. Just... please.
Dumbledore stepped forward once more, resting both hands lightly upon the crystal podium.
The hall fell into reverent silence.
"Distinguished witches and wizards," he began, his voice warm yet carrying effortlessly through the vast chamber, "it is my profound honour, as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, to address you on this most auspicious evening."
Harry straightened unconsciously in his seat.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled gently as he continued.
"Tonight, we celebrate not merely brilliance, nor only talent, but the highest ideals of our magical world—compassion, courage, innovation, perseverance, and service to others. Magic, after all, is not measured solely by power, but by purpose."
Polite applause rippled through the hall like a soft tide.
"In a world still healing from conflict, still learning from its own history, it is your achievements—your discoveries, your acts of mercy and heroism, your quiet labour in laboratories, classrooms, forests, hospitals, and courts—that remind us why magic must ever serve life, not dominate it."
Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly tight.
He's talking about... all of us.
Dumbledore concluded gently.
"May this evening remind us that greatness is not reserved for the old, the mighty, or the famous. It belongs to any witch or wizard who dares to imagine a better tomorrow—and then works to create it."
The applause this time was thunderous, echoing against the vaulted ceiling.
Alyssa leaned toward Harry, eyes bright.
"He gives amazing speeches."
Harry nodded faintly.
"...Yeah."
The Swiss Ambassador returned to the dais, smiling broadly.
"Let the ICW Awards Ceremony of 1991 commence."
Soft orchestral music swelled as the first presenter took the stage.
"The Flamel Grand Discovery Award," announced a dignified witch in sapphire robes.
A renowned Bulgarian arcanist accepted the award for stabilised temporal enchantments, bowing to sustained applause.
Then followed—
"The Dhanvantari International Healers' Laureate."
A Japanese healer bowed deeply, thanking her team for breakthroughs in curse-reversal therapy.
"The Shaka Stormspear Global Defence & Valor Award."
A pair of Egyptian aurors received it jointly for dismantling a dark artefact syndicate.
"The Hammurabi International Magical Justice Award."
A Peruvian jurist accepted with tears in his eyes.
"The Seshat Order of the Silver Quill."
A French historian won for preserving pre-Merlinian manuscripts.
"The Zhang Wei Mind Arts & Arcane Cognition Award."
A Norwegian mind-mage accepted for pioneering ethical mental shielding.
Harry's nerves fluttered more with every passing award.
Then—
"The Imhotep Arcane Engineering & Infrastructure Award."
A team from Singapore won for floating-city stabilisation wards.
"The Anansi–Scamander Magizoology & Environmental Stewardship Award."
A Kenyan magizoologist accepted for dragon habitat restoration.
" The Jabir al-Hayyan Alchemical Potions & Alchemy Mastery Award."
A stern-looking German alchemist bowed crisply.
"The Orpheus Cultural Excellence Award."
An Italian opera-enchanter received a standing ovation.
Finally—
" The Olympius of Delphi International Arcane Athletics Award."
Alyssa stiffened.
The presenter smiled.
"And the award goes to... Alyssa Carter, United States of America, for her unprecedented undefeated season in international dueling and her contributions to non-lethal combat protocols."
Alyssa's mouth dropped open.
"Oh my—no—wait—what?"
Harry jumped to his feet, clapping wildly.
"You won! You actually won!"
She laughed breathlessly, standing.
"Bloody hell—sorry—Oh my God!"
She hugged Harry impulsively.
"Wish me luck."
"You don't need it," he said, grinning.
She accepted the crystal trophy, eyes shining.
By the time—
"The Ubuntu Concord Order of International Cooperation"
and
"The Inti Raymi Rising Star Young Prodigy Award"
were presented, Harry's hands were sweating.
Then came—
"The Amaterasu Prime Lifetime Arcane Achievement Award."
The hall rose in solemn respect as an ancient wizard from Tibet accepted the honour, his long silver beard braided with ceremonial threads.
The clock chimed softly.
Nine p.m.
Harry felt his heartbeat in his ears.
It's coming. It's actually coming.
The Swiss Ambassador returned once more to the centre of the dais.
"Honoured guests," he announced, his voice formal and resonant, "since we do not have any special honour awards this year, we now arrive at the pinnacle of this evening—the presentation of the Order of Merlin."
A hush fell over the hall.
"The Order of Merlin," he continued, "is conferred annually in two divisions. The Fixed Category, in which recipients of each class are pre-selected by the ICW Council for lifelong service, and the Nominee Category, wherein one among the nominated candidates is chosen for extraordinary contemporary contribution."
Harry's fingers clenched tightly in his lap.
"The Fixed Category awards shall be presented first."
Dumbledore rose once more, his expression dignified and solemn.
"Order of Merlin, Third Class."
A veteran auror from Iceland accepted the medal, saluting sharply.
"Order of Merlin, Second Class."
A French curse-breaker was honoured, bowing deeply.
"Order of Merlin, First Class."
A revered Russian healer stepped forward, eyes glistening as the medal was placed around his neck.
The applause swelled... and then slowly faded.
Harry felt dizzy, his breath shallow.
Alyssa leaned in and whispered urgently,
"Okay... the fixed ones are done."
Harry swallowed hard.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
The fixed category of the Order of Merlin had ended.
Harry's gaze drifted helplessly toward the audience section.
He spotted them instantly.
Vernon stood half out of his seat, giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up with a grin that was far too wide to be dignified. Petunia had both hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes shining, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like "You've got this, darling." Sirius was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, fists clenched, bouncing slightly like a nervous Quidditch supporter. Cyrus sat perfectly composed, but even he allowed himself a small, confident nod. And Maple—wearing her tiny enchanted bowtie—wagged her tail furiously on Petunia's lap.
Harry's lips twitched despite himself.
Okay... okay... breathe.
The Swiss Ambassador's voice cut cleanly through the hush.
"We now proceed to the Nominee Category of the Order of Merlin."
The hall grew so quiet Harry could hear the soft hum of enchantments in the ceiling.
"Order of Merlin, Third Class—Nominee Category."
Dumbledore rose again, serene and unhurried, holding a silver-trimmed envelope.
He broke the seal.
"The International Confederation of Wizards is pleased to confer the Order of Merlin, Third Class—Nominee Category—upon Madame Elena Petrova of Bulgaria, for her pioneering advancements in post-war curse-containment matrices and civilian warding systems."
Applause rolled through the hall.
A dignified witch stood, pressed a hand to her mouth, then walked forward with visible emotion. Dumbledore placed the medal over her neck, and she bowed deeply.
Harry clapped politely, his palms damp.
Then—
"Order of Merlin, Second Class—Nominee Category."
Another envelope.
Dumbledore opened it.
"...upon Señor Mateo Alvarez of Argentina, for revolutionary work in phoenix-fire stabilization and regenerative enchantment synthesis."
More applause.
Another medal.
Another bow.
Harry's heartbeat began to thunder in his ears.
Alyssa leaned close, whispering,
"You're next. Merlin help us all."
Harry let out a shaky breath.
Don't faint. Do not faint. You will never live it down.
The Swiss Ambassador returned to the podium.
"We now arrive at the final honour of the evening."
A hush fell so deep it felt heavy.
"Order of Merlin, First Class—Nominee Category."
Harry's fingers clenched around the armrests.
The Ambassador continued formally,
"The nominees for the Order of Merlin, First Class, are as follows—"
A glowing panel lit behind him.
Seven names appeared.
Harry Potter, United Kingdom
Dr. Ingrid Weiss, Germany – Advanced Soul Anchoring
Archmage Koji Tanaka, Japan – Ley-Line Harmonization
Professor Lucien Moreau, France – Time-Dilated Healing Fields
Dr. Amina El-Khalid, Egypt – Astral Navigation Protocols
Magister Pavel Volkov, Russia – Dimensional Containment Theory
Professor Rosa Delgado, Mexico – Elemental Weather Stabilization
Harry's name burned slightly brighter than the others.
He swallowed hard.
The Ambassador's voice rang out clearly.
"Lord Harry James Potter, United Kingdom—nominated for the discovery and invention of the Non-Erodable Lunar Iron–Stardust Flux Alloy, widely known as Potter's Eterna Alloy, enabling the creation of fully non-erodable biomechanical prosthetics and possessing transformative implications across Alchemy, Metallurgy, Enchanting, Charms, Healing, Transfiguration, Defence, and Potions."
A murmur swept the hall.
Harry felt dizzy.
Merlin. They really mean it.
Dumbledore stepped forward once more, now holding a final envelope trimmed in gold.
Harry shut his eyes.
Please don't embarrass yourself. Please don't embarrass yourself. Please—
Alyssa grabbed his wrist under the armrest.
"You okay?" she whispered urgently.
He nodded stiffly.
Dumbledore broke the seal.
For one terrifying second, the hall seemed to stop breathing.
"And the recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class—Nominee Category—is—"
Harry's entire body went rigid.
"—Lord Harry James Potter, United Kingdom."
For a heartbeat, nothing registered.
Then—
The hall exploded.
Thunderous applause. Cheers. Gasps. Shouts of astonishment.
Harry's eyes flew open.
"What?"
Alyssa shrieked.
"You did it! You actually did it!"
She grabbed his shoulders and shook him.
"You WON, you idiot!"
Harry just stared.
No. No, that's—wrong. That's—
The Ambassador's voice echoed distantly as he continued,
"...for a discovery hailed as the greatest metallurgical and medical breakthrough of the modern magical era—surpassing even the Twelve Uses of Dragon Blood..."
The sound blurred.
Harry felt like the floor had vanished.
Vernon leapt to his feet in the audience, pumping his fist.
Sirius let out a hoarse, undignified yell.
Petunia covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
Maple barked loudly, tail thumping.
Harry still hadn't moved.
Alyssa elbowed him sharply.
"GO. MOVE. BEFORE I DRAG YOU UP THERE MYSELF."
His legs wobbled as he stood.
The applause intensified as he stepped into the aisle.
People were standing.
Some were bowing.
Some were staring at him like he'd just rewritten reality.
Harry's mind screamed.
Merlin's beard... I actually won.
As he walked toward the stage, the Swiss Ambassador continued, voice formal and resonant,
"...at the unprecedented age of eleven, making Lord Potter the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin in recorded history. His alloy has already revolutionized prosthetic enchantment, halted arcane erosion entirely, and opened new theoretical frontiers across multiple disciplines..."
Harry barely heard it.
His heart hammered painfully.
His hands were trembling.
Each step felt unreal.
Dumbledore stood waiting at the top of the steps, eyes shining with unmistakable pride.
The applause rose higher still as Harry finally reached the stage.
Dumbledore stepped forward, his expression warm, eyes shimmering behind his half-moon spectacles.
"My dear Lord Potter," he said softly, yet his voice carried through the vast hall, "on behalf of the International Confederation of Wizards, it is my profound honour to confer upon you the Order of Merlin, First Class—Nominee Category."
He lifted the velvet-lined case.
The medal inside glowed faintly with layered enchantments, ancient runes circling its rim in soft silver-blue light.
As Dumbledore raised it, the hall lights dimmed slightly.
Then—whoomph—
✨ Whirling golden fireworks erupted above the stage, forming spirals of stars, phoenix wings, and finally the ancient sigil of the Order of Merlin itself. ✨
The crowd gasped.
Then the applause surged even louder.
Dumbledore placed the ribbon gently over Harry's head.
The medal settled against Harry's chest.
It was warm.
Heavy.
Solid.
Real.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath.
"Oh—Merlin..."
His vision blurred.
He didn't even realize his cheeks were wet until a tear dropped onto the polished stage floor.
Dumbledore pressed a rolled parchment into his hands.
"The formal certificate of investiture," he said quietly.
Then came a third object—a crystalline memento shaped like a branching star-forged tree, its trunk engraved with Potter's Eterna Alloy in elegant script.
"And this," Dumbledore added, "is the commemorative artefact crafted by the ICW Arcane Artisans' Guild."
A fourth attendant stepped forward and handed Harry a sealed, rune-locked coffer.
"The monetary laureate prize," the Swiss Ambassador announced formally, "to accompany the Order of Merlin, First Class—Nominee Category."
A murmur rippled through the audience.
Harry stared down at the coffer like it might explode.
That's... that's mine too?
He felt dizzy again.
The applause swelled into a full standing ovation. Camera flashes burst like tiny lightning bolts. Floating crystal-recorders whirred softly, capturing every angle. Reporters in the press gallery scribbled furiously. Some witches were openly crying. Harry turned helplessly toward the audience. Vernon had both hands over his mouth now, eyes glassy. Petunia was openly sobbing into a handkerchief. Sirius had one arm around Cyrus's shoulders and the other raised triumphantly. Maple was barking joyfully, tail wagging so hard she nearly slid off Petunia's lap.
Harry let out a shaky laugh that turned into a half-sob.
"I— I—"
No sound came out.
Dumbledore leaned closer, voice gentle.
"Steady now, my boy. The world is applauding you. It will not bite."
Harry nodded weakly.
"Y-yes, sir."
He turned back to the hall and bowed awkwardly.
The applause somehow got even louder.
Someone yelled in accented English,
"Bravo, young lord!"
Another voice shouted,
"Discovery of the century!"
Alyssa was on her feet, clapping so hard her hands must have hurt, shouting,
"That's my friend! That's my friend!"
Harry pressed his lips together, shoulders trembling.
I did it... Merlin's beard, I actually did it...
The Swiss Ambassador raised both hands slowly.
The applause faded to a respectful hush, though it took several long seconds.
"Lord Harry James Potter," he said ceremonially, "the podium awaits your words."
Harry flinched.
Speech. Right. The speech.
His feet felt like lead as he turned toward the podium. The medal bumped lightly against his chest with each step. The certificate crinkled faintly in his grip. The coffer felt absurdly heavy. He climbed the shallow steps, heart pounding so hard he was sure everyone could hear it. He reached the podium. He set the coffer down carefully. Then the memento. Then the parchment.
He placed both hands on the polished crystal edges of the lectern.
And froze.
The hall was utterly silent. Hundreds—no, thousands—of eyes were on him. Cameras floated closer. Harry swallowed. His mouth was dry. His brain was blank.
Say something. Anything. Don't just stand here like a stunned flobberworm.
A nervous laugh escaped him. The audience chuckled softly, sympathetically. Harry closed his eyes briefly.
Okay. Breathe. Just... breathe.
He opened them again. The applause tried to start up again. The Ambassador gestured gently for quiet. Harry lifted one trembling hand.
"Um—" he began.
Then stopped.
His voice cracked. He cleared his throat.
"I— I just need a moment, please."
The audience murmured kindly. Dumbledore nodded encouragingly from behind him.
Harry took a long, shaky breath. His fingers tightened around the edge of the podium. He looked out again—at Vernon, Petunia, Sirius, Cyrus, Maple, Alyssa, the ministers, the dignitaries, the legends of magic itself. His chest felt too full. Tears threatened again. He pressed his lips together hard.
Don't cry again. Not yet. Not in front of the entire magical world.
He inhaled slowly. Then exhaled. The hall waited. Harry lifted his gaze, finally ready to speak. Harry stood very still for a few seconds, both hands resting on the crystal edges of the podium. The hall waited. He drew in a long breath, then another.
"All right," he said softly, his British accent trembling just a little. "I... I think if I don't start now, I might never start at all."
A ripple of gentle laughter moved through the audience. Harry swallowed and lifted his gaze.
"Your Excellencies, honoured guests, distinguished witches and wizards, and... everyone watching this somewhere in the world."
He paused, fingers tightening around the podium.
"Thank you."
The word came out simple. Bare. Inadequate. He shook his head faintly.
"No, really. Thank you. For this honour. For this trust. And for believing that something a first-year student came up with in a school workshop could actually matter."
Soft applause stirred.
Harry blinked rapidly, then forced himself to go on.
"I know this award has my name on it, and I'm standing here alone, but... this discovery was never mine alone."
He glanced briefly toward Dumbledore, then back to the hall.
"First, I want to thank the International Confederation of Wizards. For recognising not just power or prestige, but ideas, curiosity, and the stubborn refusal to give up when something doesn't work the first hundred times."
A few knowing chuckles rose. Harry's voice softened.
"I also want to thank my parents. Lily and James Potter."
A hush fell.
"I don't remember them. I wish I did. But everything I am, everything good I try to be, comes from what they were. People who believed that love and courage were more important than fear."
His throat tightened.
"I hope... wherever they are... they know that tonight belongs to them too."
The hall remained utterly silent.
Harry inhaled shakily.
"And then," he continued, "there are the two people who raised me."
He turned slightly, eyes finding Petunia and Vernon in the audience.
"My Aunt Petunia and my Uncle Vernon."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
"They are Muggles. They didn't grow up with magic. They didn't understand my world at first. But they gave me a home. They gave me safety. They gave me discipline. They gave me love."
Petunia pressed a hand to her mouth.
"They didn't made me feel like I was strange for being different, once they themselves adjusted with magic being part of their lives of course. It was difficult for both of us but one thing is certain that if I'm standing here tonight instead of somewhere much darker, it's because of them."
Harry bowed his head slightly in their direction.
"Thank you, Aunt Petunia. Thank you, Uncle Vernon."
Then he gave a small, crooked smile.
"And thank you to my cousin Dudley, who isn't here, but who somehow managed to grow up into one of the best brothers I could've asked for, even after a very rocky start."
A few amused murmurs followed. Harry took another breath.
"To my godfather, Sirius Black, and to Remus Lupin."
He glanced toward Sirius.
"You both should have been there when I was little. Fate didn't give us that chance. But it gave us now. And you've both shown me what family really means."
Sirius lifted a hand in salute, eyes wet. Harry's lips wobbled, but he kept going.
"To my friends."
He gestured vaguely toward the hall, knowing many of them were watching from Hogwarts and beyond.
"You kept me sane. You kept me laughing. You kept me grounded. You reminded me to eat, to sleep, and occasionally to stop working before I passed out on a lab bench."
Soft laughter.
"And to my dog, Maple... and my owl, Hedwig."
The audience chuckled warmly.
"You both sat through more experiments than any animal ever should. You deserve honorary lab coats."
Maple barked loudly from the audience section. The hall laughed outright. Harry grinned, then steadied himself.
"And now... to the people without whom Potter's Eterna Alloy would not exist at all."
He turned slightly toward the dignitaries behind him.
"Professor Albus Dumbledore. Madam Poppy Pomfrey. Professor Tobin Fletcher. Professor Minerva McGonagall. Professor Filius Flitwick. Professor Aurora Sinistra. Professor Severus Snape. And my Head of House, Professor Pomona Sprout."
He bowed his head deeply.
"You taught me. You challenged me. You let me fail safely. You let me try again. You trusted me with tools and knowledge most adults wouldn't trust a child with."
Harry's voice steadied, growing firmer.
"And finally... I want to say this."
He placed a hand lightly over the medal at his chest. "This alloy isn't about metal. It isn't about awards. It isn't even about discovery." He paused. "It's about a future where losing a limb doesn't mean losing a life. Where healing doesn't stop at survival. Where magic serves dignity." The hall was utterly still. "I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to deserve what you've given me tonight."
He bowed deeply from the waist.
"Thank you."
For half a second, nothing happened. Then the hall erupted. Applause thundered. People rose to their feet again. Some shouted "Bravo!" in French. Others cried "Wunderbar!" in German [Wonderful]. Harry stood there, stunned, heart hammering. He bowed again, cheeks burning. Then he gathered his certificate, his memento, and the coffer, cradling them awkwardly against his chest.
He stepped down from the podium. The applause followed him all the way. As he reached the edge of the carpet, Vernon, Petunia, Sirius, and Cyrus were already there waiting for him, faces glowing with pride. Petunia opened her arms. Harry walked straight into them.
______________________________
A/n: I hope You like it. Please ignore grammatical and spelling errors.
Okay, so yeah—Switzerland!!
Harry managed to distract himself with metallurgy so much that he almost forgot he was supposed to leave for Switzerland the very next day.
I tried to make the trip as exciting as possible, and the family really enjoyed it. Switzerland—magical or otherwise—is just beautiful.
And then came the award ceremony. Yes, Harry has officially become the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin ever.
Hey for this story I wasn't able to decide Chapter names easily so for fun why don't you all comment what you think chapter name can be ? I will be waiting.
Thanks for reading. § Hinny Forever § Please Review!!!