Chapter 296

Draco and Pansy exchanged a glance, both seeming hesitant. Seeing this hesitation, Harry was momentarily surprised—he had never imagined these two would show such an expression at a time like this.

"Why do you both look so reluctant?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"I'm not sure I should listen," Pansy sighed. "I'd rather this doesn't damage our relationship than uncover the truth behind the game."

"Exactly. If new information forces me to oppose you because of my allegiance, I'd rather stay clueless," Draco said, his expression tinged with disappointment.

"If we want to preserve our friendship," Harry thought quickly, "we could jointly establish a stance—students as a group should voice our own opinion on the relationship between the Order and the Death Eaters."

"As students, it's really none of our business," Draco said. "But we all have other identities—student is the most fragile one."

"No, what I mean is, we use the Torchwood faction we've built to make our voice heard," Harry's thoughts were clearing. "No matter what your father wants you to do, what matters is what you want."

"I want? I obviously hope everyone stops acting like this is a war and just gets along," Draco snapped. "Life's been fine—why stir up trouble over something so boring?"

"By 'boring thing,' do you mean Greengrass?" Harry asked. "Is your father still pushing that?"

"Yes, he made me meet Astoria," Draco glanced nervously at Pansy. "To be honest, she's beautiful—that's exactly why I'm annoyed."

"You already used Eve to manipulate him once. He doesn't want his father using Greengrass to control him again," Pansy said calmly—perhaps they'd already reached some understanding on this.

"The core conflict is this: the Death Eaters want to resurrect the Dark Lord, while the Order won't allow it," Harry suddenly said. "So what should our stance be? How should students view this issue? How can we act in our own interest and reach internal consensus?"

"So their struggle is really about resurrecting the Dark Lord?" Pansy asked. "What you were about to say—was it about the conditions and methods of resurrection?"

"Correct. To some high-ups, this isn't even a secret," Harry shrugged. "But since we all value our friendship, let's hold off on revealing it until we reach further agreement."

"Then let's talk about the Dark Lord," Pansy nodded. "First, we can agree our patrons hold opposing views, so we can't fully side with either."

"But I don't want the Dark Lord resurrected—he's a reckless bastard who brings us no benefit," Draco shook his head. "Didn't we already agree to stay neutral and leave it to fate?"

"If neutrality satisfies you, then fine," Harry knew Draco had his own ambitions. "I only came to you seeking advice on emotional matters. You were the one who asked about the Order's movements, so we drifted into external politics."

"It's not that simple. Our old strategy feels like passively waiting to die," Draco shook his head. "And being kept in the dark? It's unbearable."

"Then let's return to our stance," Harry knew he'd bitten. "Do you think the Death Eaters and the Order should coexist peacefully? You know neither side alone can achieve that—so what stance should students take to promote peace?"

"Neutrality and refusing to be recruited is outdated—it's stifling and pointless. We should speak up and mediate," Draco said confidently.

"Is Dumbledore's Army giving you confidence?" Pansy rolled her eyes. "Why would adults listen to us?"

"True. With the strength and influence Dumbledore's Army has shown, we might only maintain student neutrality—not influence either side," Draco's enthusiasm faded. "But that doesn't stop us from dreaming, right?"

"So, if we can mediate, we mediate. If we can't, we protect ourselves," Pansy summarized. "That's the tone, right?"

"As long as this stance doesn't change, our friendship won't break," Harry nodded. "Now, do you have time to help me with my emotional problem?"

"Maybe we should hear about the Dark Lord's resurrection first," Draco gave a bitter smile. "They tell me nothing—it's unbearable."

"I don't know much, but I'm certain this all revolves around a dark magical artifact called a Horcrux. The trigger was after the battle, when Grindelwald told us: collect all Horcruxes, and you can resurrect the Dark Lord." Harry withheld most information—some parts he didn't want the Death Eaters to know, others he shouldn't know according to their perception of him.

"Most Horcruxes are in Death Eater hands, but the Order holds one. So both sides are scheming to seize the other's Horcrux. Meanwhile, logic suggests one more Horcrux remains unaccounted for—that's why things seem calm on the surface; they're all working in secret." Harry didn't mention the diary, nor did he elaborate on Horcrux traits. He wanted Pansy and Draco to discover the diary was a Horcrux themselves—to minimize their suspicions of Order conspiracies.

"That's it," Harry shrugged.

"Once explained, it doesn't seem so complicated," Draco exhaled. "I can't believe such a simple thing is kept so secret, so tightly guarded."

"By the way, Harry, you mentioned emotional problems—did you and Zhang Qiu have a fight?" Pansy shifted topics naturally, the atmosphere lightening.

"Not a fight. I just don't understand her. I feel like I'm always making her unhappy," Harry's lips twitched.

"If your relationship's hit a wall, it means it's time to move forward. Have you kissed her yet?" Pansy asked earnestly.

"Uh, no," Harry scratched his head. "Are you saying I should try kissing her?"

"What else?" Pansy hinted subtly. "Follow your instinct—pursue the most primal beauty in love."

"Follow instinct?" Harry didn't understand. "How?"

"Think: when you first saw Zhang Qiu, what did you feel?" Pansy couldn't say it outright, so she hinted as best she could.

"I thought she was beautiful. I wanted to talk to her more," Harry recalled their first meeting on the train.

"Right. But that's childish impulse. Think bigger—what did you think later?" Pansy struggled to explain, while Draco smirked lewdly.

"Bigger… build the Communist International?" Harry shook his head. "No, that's wrong. Later, the dream collapsed. More realistically, I wanted to explore a clean political system in Britain to transition society toward an ideal state. Oh—that makes sense now. Zhang Qiu doesn't care about China's political system, so we lost a great shared topic. What a pity."

"The Communist International still relied on the Soviet Union, but Yanayev's actions were too vile—I don't think he deserves to be our role model," Harry grew more animated, speaking seriously. "And China and Yanayev were never truly aligned. As we grew, we both stopped mentioning those childish childhood ideas."

"You've overcomplicated this, Pansy," Draco sat up straight. "For Harry right now, he doesn't need to do any of that—he just needs to find a chance to kiss her."

"Clearly, you're overwhelmed with other matters and have no mental space left—that's why things are like this," Draco raised an eyebrow, nodding slightly. "If you just want to make her happy, that's enough."

"So what was all that stuff Pansy said for?" Harry asked.

"To get you into the mood, to feel the beauty of love," Pansy rolled her eyes. "Never thought the famous Harry Potter would be clueless about this."

"Then say it again? I think I'm starting to get it," Harry suddenly felt competitive.

"Understanding doesn't help. Knowing what to do is one thing—actually doing it is another," Draco seemed thrilled to have a topic where he could outdo Harry. "The real problem is, you're still worrying about domestic affairs, while Zhang Qiu no longer needs to obsess over the big picture. So your mindsets differ—and that guarantees your emotional investment differs. Even if you know you should spend more on romance, you can't actually do it."

"Plus, you're preparing for your OWLs, while Zhang Qiu already took hers," Pansy added.

Harry nodded silently—he had to admit they were right. More importantly, after the fourth-year battle, Harry now had to consider wizarding deterrence and international politics, while Zhang Qiu, frozen in time, no longer needed to agonize over whether divination came true.

Zhang Qiu, with ample free time, turned her attention to romance. Meanwhile, Harry, drowning in responsibilities, struggled to respond in time. He rubbed his temples—this was a far more complicated problem than most he'd heard at Death Eater meetings.