Chapter 211: Intensified Contradictions

"What's wrong? What did you hear from Fleur?" Ron's thoughts snapped back, and he asked curiously.

"Well, this is it," Cedric looked noticeably more alert, "We talked about Elena's issue. Fleur said she's a childish brat who knows nothing about how the real world works."

"If Madame Maxime hadn't specifically set rules to compensate those falling behind, I wouldn't know how to convince this fool who only wants to show off—he'll ruin the plan." Cedric repeated Fleur's exact words, "She only said that one sentence, then seemed to realize she'd spoken too much and quickly changed the subject."

"So according to the plan, Fleur never intended to show off," Cedric rubbed his chin as he analyzed, "And judging by her performance, though not spectacular, she completed the task with ease. Why would Krum immediately suspect her? Could he have gotten involved in the match-fixing too?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, hesitating whether to tell Cedric. In truth, Ron wasn't certain the two were fixing the match, but he'd seen Harry's vague attitude too often—he'd already guessed.

"But regardless of whether they're fixing the match, our strategy remains unchanged," Cedric said. "Winning fairly is what I want."

"Of course, we just need to avoid fixing our own match," Harry sighed in relief. "As for Fleur's situation, we shouldn't dwell on it or spread rumors—these are just baseless speculations. Don't let them affect your relationship with her."

"You're right. I'll go back and keep dancing," Cedric nodded. "You two cheer up too."

Cedric returned to the hall, where Fleur waited with a smiling face—apparently, he'd stepped out just to check on their spirits.

"Phew, then we should—" Ron had just regained his composure and was about to rejoin the dance floor when he suddenly froze, his face turning as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Harry Potter, I need to speak with you alone," Renata's icy face appeared suddenly beside him.

"What? No, I won't speak with you alone—Ron must be here." Harry glanced into the ballroom; Cho and Elena were still chatting happily.

"Then I'll say it plainly—I have the original letters from Krum and the British Ministry of Magic." She glanced briefly at Ron. "You don't want the Ministry's covert moves exposed to the whole world, do you?"

"Of course not—but what are you getting at?" Harry asked warily.

"My demand is simple: tell me the Ministry's true purpose." Renata said, "Though Britain has two champions, I doubt they've collaborated with Cedric."

"The Ministry's true purpose? Yes, I know—but how do I know you're on our side?" Harry replied bluntly.

"You're not just cooperating with the Ministry—you've also made contact with Xuanjun. You're quite resourceful, Mr. Potter," Renata said. "I'm here to propose a partnership."

"So what exactly do you want to partner on? What do you want? And what can you offer?" Ron asked, pulling out paper and a pen. "I'll record every word you say today, so better not mess up."

"Hah. Childish tactics." Renata's expression shifted suddenly; she gave a faint smile. "Why discuss this in the cold wind? Why not go inside and dance a dance?"

"Is that part of your demand?" Harry replied sternly. "Don't think I'll accept it as payment."

"Hmm, your tactics aren't much better," Ron sneered.

"Then I'll be direct: if you tell me your plan now and pay a small price, I might consider cooperating. Otherwise, once I uncover the truth myself, don't expect me to be so polite."

"I thought what? A bluff?" Harry relaxed. "I never expected you to cooperate. I won't reveal my plan so easily—I can only say our cause is just."

"Just bourgeois justice," Renata scoffed.

"I warn you to watch your tone!" Harry snapped. "If you keep showing this hostility toward me, I can only assume you know nothing of Yanayev's grand strategy—you're just a childish brat who wants to show off."

"I won't tell you anything, because I know you can't represent the Soviet Union." Harry finished coldly and turned toward the dance floor.

"I warn you not to keep harassing us," Ron's serious voice came from behind. "Unless you want me to prove that chivalry hasn't died yet."

After sitting beside Cho, Harry looked at his gentle companion and suddenly felt much better. If he'd once been slightly wary of what Renata held, he now felt far more at ease. No matter Yanayev's plans, they were clearly aimed at winning Harry over—he wouldn't strike here over the outcome of the Triwizard Tournament; that would be too petty. Besides, Tang Dun's spies, his childhood tutor Yuri—all indicated Yanayev understood Harry's background, or at least was trying to change it. Considering all this, Harry easily concluded: Renata had nothing to do with the grand scheme. She was merely a child striving to win the Triwizard Tournament.

"Oh Harry, we were just talking about Christmas," Cho turned, pulling his arm affectionately. "Elena plans to come to Hogwarts with us for the holiday—what wonderful news!"

"Yeah, Donald's going to attend his family's board meeting, and even more absurdly, he's taking Hermione along as his secretary," Elena shrugged. "Where else can an orphan like me go?"

"It's fine—you can come with us," Cho raised an eyebrow. "Hogwarts has a wonderful guest room."

"I know—he told me about the Room of Requirement," Elena said eagerly. "I absolutely must see it."

"No no no—I mean another place. Harry, you've guessed it, haven't you?" she smiled. "We can decorate it a bit to make it more festive."

"You can't mean Torchwood… oh!" Harry burst out laughing. "Right! I nearly forgot about the Chamber of Secrets. I even think I should write to Neville first to help clean it up."

"What are you two talking about? You're laughing so hard," Ron walked over cheerfully—he'd clearly shaken off Renata's pursuit.

"Elena's coming to Hogwarts with us for Christmas," Cho repeated happily.

"That's great—but Harry, aren't you going back to Tang Dun?" Ron asked.

"Don't mention it. The old knight wrote me last month—he's got a troublesome assignment requiring me to stay in Albania for at least five months." Harry shrugged. "I'm practically used to it."

When the music resumed, they danced a few more rounds. Perhaps the news of spending Christmas together was so delightful, Ron and Elena both grew visibly excited, laughing heartily.

As night deepened like water, the ball finally drew to a close. Exhausted children began leaving the hall one by one, heading back to bed. Ron reluctantly bid farewell to Elena and walked with Harry toward the train.

"What agreement did you make with Elena?" they suddenly spotted Renata and Krum waiting at the door.

"None," Harry replied coldly, stepping forward.

"Sorry, Harry," Krum blocked him. "If you don't want that matter exposed, you'd better cooperate."

"I don't care," Harry frowned, preparing to shove him aside—he'd just realized: even if Renata revealed the match-fixing, no one would necessarily believe her. The Ministry could claim it was Soviet slander; after all, Britain and the Soviet Union had been trading accusations for years.

"But I care," Krum said, his gaze earnest, almost pitiful.

A sudden wave of sympathy rose in Harry's heart. For Krum, a Bulgarian, resistance against Soviet demands seemed impossible.

"Fine, for Krum's sake, I'll tell you—it's simple. Elena wants to spend Christmas at Hogwarts. We agreed. That's all."

"Then we're coming too," Renata said matter-of-factly.

"If you want to come, talk to Dumbledore," Harry shifted his gaze. "We can't handle this."

"But—" Renata tried to speak again when Ron suddenly drew a sword, sliding it slightly from its sheath.

"It's fine, Renata," Krum quickly said. "Let the headmaster speak to the headmaster—they'll sort it out. Maybe the guest room will even be more comfortable than Elena's."

They ended the unpleasant conversation, all three walking toward the train with eased expressions. Along the way, Harry kept praising Ron's sword-drawing motion—drawing a wand might escalate things, but drawing a sword showed strength without seeming overly aggressive. Very clever.

"But where did you get that sword?" Cho couldn't help asking. "The Seven Sins are safely locked in the carriage."

"I transfigured it," Ron scratched his head, embarrassed. "Donald made me learn this trick—turn my belt into a sword."

Harry looked at Ron's slightly loose pants and realized, for the first time, how dependable his always-joking friend truly was.