Chapter 198

"This is just one thing." After a brief pause, Sirius brought up the subject Harry cared about most: "You'd probably rather hear about the Stasis Charm."

"That's right," Harry said. "The Time-Shift Matrix seems to be malfunctioning—I need to consider whether the Stasis Charm could be my decisive spell."

"Setting aside the issue of magical expenditure, I believe it's entirely feasible," Sirius said. "The Stasis Charm can be cast on a wizard, trapping him inside a painting. According to the test subject, he felt only three or four seconds had passed—but in reality, I kept him inside for three days."

"Three days?"

"It could be longer, but my magic ran out," Sirius said, looking troubled. "The larger the object and the longer the duration, the greater the drain. This is a problem we must solve—otherwise, with your current magical capacity, you might only hold the Dark Lord for an hour."

"But at least I can use this spell," Harry reassured himself. "Even an hour is better than nothing. I can think of other ways to extend the time."

In truth, the first idea that sprang to Harry's mind was stacking multiple Stasis Charms using the Time-Shift Matrix. What worried him was that Ollivander had said the Matrix itself was already dangerous—let alone that the Stasis Charm consumed enormous amounts of magic.

Yet he couldn't help wondering: if an overcharged Time-Shift Matrix were used to unleash a power-hungry Stasis Charm, might the two cancel each other out, allowing the Matrix to operate smoothly?

"Don't get carried away, Harry," Sirius warned. "The priority is passing the first trial—that's an indispensable part of the plan."

"Ah, right," Harry said automatically. "But I already have a plan."

"Don't be careless," Sirius said seriously. "A critical question is: can you truly trust Donald? What if he gives you the Seven Sins but exaggerates their effects?"

"Moreover, you've already made bold claims in the papers. If your actual power doesn't match your reputation, won't the Dark Lord suspect this is a trap orchestrated by the Ministry and the press? He'll think exactly that—we can't let him see through our intentions."

"Well, actually..." Harry had been about to say that Voldemort had already seen through their plan—he was preparing to play along, to settle things once and for all with Dumbledore.

But the foundation of this entire chain of schemes still rested on the publicly stated premise. If Harry appeared as a rising heir, capable of continuing the resistance after Dumbledore's death, then Voldemort would have reason to act—and thus a chance to play along and strike at Dumbledore.

Conversely, if Harry had humiliated himself in the Triwizard Tournament and people no longer believed he was fit to succeed Dumbledore, then Voldemort would have neither motive nor need to kill him. Voldemort might even fear that overt action would seem suspicious and alert Dumbledore. In that case, Harry's lack of threat would make it wiser for Voldemort to simply wait quietly for Dumbledore's destined death.

"You're right—I should practice more with Cedric," Harry amended. "I can't rely on the Seven Sins as my only trump card."

"I'm glad to hear that. But there's one more thing I must warn you about—have you heard of the Soviet Union?" Sirius glanced warily around, then lowered his voice. "Rumors say a Soviet spy has infiltrated the Ministry. We don't know their plan yet, but it's not good—they're playing a very large game."

"I've heard of it," Harry recalled past conversations. "But that might just be a ridiculous excuse the White House cooked up to interfere in the Triwizard Tournament—a phantom spy."

"No, you can't dismiss this," Sirius whispered even lower. "The Soviets have laid a wide net. They once sent agents to Azkaban to watch me—and there are people among the Dark Lord's circle too..."

"Azkaban? Watching you?" Harry's thoughts snapped back to his third-year time-travel incident—someone had hidden in Sirius's cell and attacked Zhang Qiu, who was helping him escape. He'd nearly forgotten it.

"I'll keep investigating," Sirius signaled for Harry to be silent. "I've been worried about this. I hope their scheme doesn't interfere with ours."

"I could try probing Codovstritz's champion," Harry offered, wanting to help his godfather.

"Renata? You'd better not," Sirius said slowly. "I looked into her. She came from the Black Swan Orphanage—that's where the KGB trains assassins. In short, she's just as dangerous."

"Then I should pay her even closer attention," Harry said seriously. "Clearly, she didn't enter the tournament without purpose. Don't worry—I'm her competitor in the Triwizard Tournament. Keeping tabs on her is perfectly reasonable."

"Be careful. But I trust you'll handle it." Sirius glanced at his watch. "I've told you the most urgent matters. I must go. You can keep writing me letters—but never mention anything that needs secrecy. We can't risk it."

"All right. You take care too," Harry said, staring blankly as Sirius transformed back into a black dog and sprinted into the woods. Sunlight filtered through the tangled branches, casting dappled patches along the path where his godfather vanished. A hummingbird darted past, a squirrel scurried by, a weasel peered from a dead tree—then, in the blink of an eye, all trace of their presence vanished.

Harry walked slowly toward the train alone. Ron and Zhang Qiu were gone, leaving a note instructing him to meet them in the library.

When Harry entered the library, he immediately spotted a group huddled at a table: Ron, Zhang Qiu, Cedric, and Donna. Each held a newspaper, their expressions relaxed.

"Where did all these come from?" Harry asked quietly, glancing at the papers written in various languages.

"Ah, you're here, Harry," Zhang Qiu put down her Chinese paper. "We've collected reports from every country on the Triwizard Tournament. Most are just recycled nonsense, but we've pulled out some useful intelligence."

"For example," Donna rolled her eyes, "Elena is probably a lesbian and is eyeing our Fleur. Harry and Cedric might have feelings for each other, while Renata and Krum—already kissed—are only bound by pure 'revolutionary friendship.'"

"What?" Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"The New Wave Hot Search claims you and Cedric are likely a couple, because Cedric is extremely handsome—and 'as the British tradition has always been.'"

"The Planet Daily says Elena trusts Hermione too much—they're probably a couple," Ron grumbled, tossing down his paper, which featured a photo of Hermione and Elena hugging. "Since Hermione strongly denies it, the editor guesses Elena's actually smitten with Fleur."

"And Pravda basically praised Renata and Krum's respectful comrade-like bond and argued the superiority of socialist education," Cedric said, holding up a dictionary with a puzzled look.

"This is clearly lying with eyes wide open," Donna held up her copy of the Parisian Wizarding Gazette, where a high-definition animated GIF of Renata and Krum kissing kept flashing before Harry's eyes.

"What a waste of time," Harry commented. "But I didn't realize Renata and Krum had moved this fast."

"You shouldn't be surprised," Donna said. "I'm not surprised at all. A middle-school girl and a big gorilla who plays sports? If they give birth to a daughter tomorrow, I wouldn't blink."

"No, I think there's something odd here," Harry recalled how they interacted. "Renata seems to be the one initiating things—but look, Krum's appeal lies in Quidditch, and Renata clearly isn't a Quidditch fan."

"But right now, aside from watching the spectacle, we can't really do anything," Zhang Qiu closed her paper slowly.

"Besides, even if Renata has ulterior motives, Krum doesn't have anything worth her scheming for," Ron said. "For her, the tournament is probably the real goal—maybe she's just trying to make him more invested."

"Speaking of the tournament, we're scheduled to compete the day after tomorrow," Cedric said. "Any ideas? Or are you seriously planning to face all the dragons alone, Harry?"

"As planned—we'll enter together and attack the dragons like an air force," Harry thought the Seven Sins remained his best option, but he still needed to put on a convincing show before using them.

"Yes, I've learned a bit about air force tactics," Cedric frowned. "But we may not have the right spells—we'd need seven or eight wizards casting the Stunning Spell simultaneously."

"We could each carry a sword..." Harry's voice trailed off—he had to admit he'd never seriously considered the idea of attacking the dragon from the air alongside Cedric.

"Let me check the Divination," Zhang Qiu flipped through her journal to rescue Harry. "Harry must tell Cedric about the dragon, and then he'll receive help from a professor."

"A professor? That's vague," Ron said. "Who are you thinking of? Jack? But you're Hogwarts' champion—he might not help you."

"Actually, there's one person who always helps us," Harry suddenly had an idea.