Chapter 174

Harry sat in the study deep in thought; barely had Dumbledore finished speaking to him about Horcruxes when he saw this news the next day—he naturally wondered if it might be connected to the Horcruxes.

If he were Voldemort, and wanted to hide a Horcrux so thoroughly that no one could ever find it, launching it into deep space aboard a space probe would be a brilliant and inventive solution. Wizards would hardly pay attention to Muggle technological news in the first place, and even if someone learned the secret, they couldn't fly into space to search for a probe that had already traveled hundreds of thousands of kilometers away.

If Voldemort intended to attach a Horcrux to the probe, this would undoubtedly be a very troubling development for Harry—but the good news was that the probe had not yet been launched.

Harry couldn't help but think further: after all, during last term's time travel, Zhang Qiu had told him that the Chinese had traced George's grandfather's ties to the Soviet Union. So it made perfect sense that Yanayev had spies in Tang Dun—perhaps, judging from his childhood tutor Yuri, Yanayev hadn't even tried to hide it; it was an open strategy laid before Harry.

Normally, after reading the Daily Prophet, Harry preferred the Daily Mail; today, the butler had placed this Morning Star newspaper beneath the Daily Prophet—clearly intentional. What, then, did Yanayev want to tell him through this paper?

If Yanayev intended to help Voldemort launch the Horcrux, Harry could understand that. Once Voldemort had the idea, he'd find a way to send the Horcrux into space anyway; perhaps Yanayev preferred to keep control of the operation himself rather than let Voldemort collaborate with NASA.

On this basis, Yanayev's intent was clear: he was telling Harry he must deal with Voldemort before 1997, or else once the Horcrux was launched into deep space, it would be too late. Besides, naming the probe Cadmus was telling—it suggested the Horcrux Voldemort intended to send into space was most likely the Resurrection Stone. Yet the Resurrection Stone had already been dug up and destroyed by Dumbledore.

This meant not only that Voldemort was unaware his Horcrux secrets had been exposed, but also that he had no awareness of the Horcruxes he had already separated. If he didn't even know the Resurrection Stone had been destroyed, Harry's minor surveillance of him should likewise go unnoticed by Voldemort.

Harry knew he had two conversations with Dumbledore: the one in the parlor was strictly confidential, but the one in the tea room had not been deliberately shielded from Tang Dun's Muggle servants. There was one or two Yanayev moles among them—he didn't intend to dig deeper, because deep down, he still believed Yanayev would side with him; otherwise, why would he go to such lengths to give Harry a red ideological education?

Harry took a deep breath and realized another layer of meaning behind the newspaper: if Yanayev believed Harry was no longer leaning toward the socialist camp, he might, like the Bai Gong, adopt a neutral stance in the wizarding war, betting on both sides instead of subtly aiding Harry's side—this wasn't quite a threat, but it was certainly a warning.

"Harry, are you doing homework?" Ron's voice came from outside the door. "Why do homework on such a fine morning?"

"Alright," Harry quickly adjusted his mood. "Then what shall we play?"

"Donald taught us a board game that needs at least six people to play," Ron called out. "Come on."

Harry sat down at the long dining table. Ron pulled out a deck of cards and shuffled them, while Ivy carefully explained the board game called "Avalon."

In Avalon's setting, six players took turns speaking, each potentially lying—a feeling that instantly transported Harry back to his second year. No wonder Ginny and Ivy looked so delighted. He even suspected this game had been adapted by Donald from their own second-year experiences.

Donald had only stayed a day or two here; before leaving, he left Ron a board game and took Hermione away. From the end of the birthday party until the Quidditch World Cup, the children played this game almost every day. Aside from listening in daily on Voldemort's routine meetings—where he caressed two wands and muttered, "Dumbledore's end is near"—Harry had done almost nothing else.

Finally, the long-awaited Quidditch World Cup was about to begin. Early Monday morning, barely before dawn, alarms went off in every child's bedroom.

"We should leave," Arthur Weasley said, dressed in a proper suit after having taken the day off. "Since you kids can't Apparate, I'll have to take you to the departure point."

Harry knew perfectly well what Apparition was—Dumbledore and Sir Johnny had both demonstrated it before his eyes.

"We'll go to the nearest departure point, just outside London..."

"Wait, Dad," Ron interrupted. "We should go to the departure point near our house instead."

"Why?" Arthur asked, puzzled.

"Did Zhang Qiu send you a letter too?" Harry sighed as Ron pulled out an envelope. Since buying his own owl (which he named Pig), Ron's correspondence had visibly increased.

"But I think that's unnecessary—we're closer if we go straight from Tang Dun," Arthur muttered as he flipped through Zhang Qiu's letter to Ron.

Harry knew what it said: divination indicated they should depart from the gathering point near the Weasleys' home, and they must exchange pleasantries with Cedric. But since Hermione wasn't in the departure group as the divination predicted, Harry saw no need for it.

"I don't want to argue with you at someone else's house!" Molly snapped, yanking George's ear (perhaps Fred's). The three trudged over, looking displeased. Harry knew Mrs. Weasley was furious about the twins' poor grades, but he hadn't expected them to still be quarreling on such a good day.

Amid the chaotic bustle, Arthur ultimately decided to follow the "Xuan Jun's" advice: first return to the Weasley home via Floo Powder, then depart from the nearby Weasel Hill.

They arrived at the designated gathering point just as morning dew clung to the grass and the horizon glowed faintly gray-green—dawn had not yet fully broken. Sure enough, Amos Diggory and his son Cedric Diggory were already waiting.

Harry learned Cedric's father's name was Amos because Arthur chatted with him at length—he worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and shared amusing stories about the Centaur office. Cedric, meanwhile, talked Quidditch with Harry; they were seasoned rivals on the pitch. Harry had to admit that although he'd repeatedly outplayed and defeated Cedric, the older student's overall skill was slightly superior.

"Krum is strong, but beating Ireland will still be difficult," Cedric analyzed. "Their Chasers are just too weak..."

"Ireland is a well-run team—their teamwork has always been excellent," Harry agreed. "Now it all depends on whether Krum can catch the Snitch within the first ten minutes; otherwise, if Ireland scores over 150 points..."

"And Ireland doesn't need a high total—they only need at least 70 points. They've already earned too many against Estonia," Cedric added, as if recalling his final match against Harry in second year. "I think Bulgaria has almost no chance."

"But Bulgaria made it this far for a reason," Ron interjected. "I think Krum's just that strong—he might still pull off a miracle."

"It depends on the Beaters," Harry said calmly. "How long can a pair of professional Beaters suppress a Seeker under a four-on-one defense? Not long. A Seeker can rack up 70 points in ten minutes—that's what decides the match."

"I think Ireland will win, but Krum will catch the Snitch," George declared confidently. "He has to catch it—then at least Krum doesn't lose."

"Exactly," Fred nodded. "We'll bet all our pocket money on that. That's our startup capital for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"Since you two Beaters have made your decision," Harry mused, "perhaps I should place a bet too."

"But don't bet too much," George grinned. "Bet too much, and they'll lower the odds."

"Then I'll bet Krum catches the Snitch—and Bulgaria wins," Harry said. "That way, at least one of us wins."

"Why are you so sure Krum will catch the Snitch?" Ivy stuck out her tongue. "He looks like a gorilla—so clumsy."

"Without a four-on-one defense, maybe he has a chance—but either way, fans will question the result. With a four-on-one defense, he'll probably lose, but at least he saves face," Harry shook his head. "Team sports aren't about desperate gambles—they're about off-field strategy and fan economics."

Ginny looked gloomy, whispering quietly to Ron—perhaps she was a Krum fan too. But Krum was still young, with plenty of time ahead. Bulgaria wouldn't easily abandon such a star player who brought massive attention. For a long time, he would remain "the world's youngest genius Seeker," even possibly "the world's best Seeker," even if he might never win a World Cup title for many years.