Chapter 335

"Relax, Harry," Zhang Qiu said with a smile. "After all, it's just my guess—nothing has happened yet."

"But what if things really unfold as we've deduced?"

"Even if they do, we shouldn't do anything," Zhang Qiu shrugged. "After all, it's the Ministry's plan."

"No, no—we don't need to oppose the Ministry or break ties with Donald. We just—" Harry frowned, "we need to find a way, at least to prevent Hermione from falling for him by mistake."

"Even if we were to act, I can't think of any way," Zhang Qiu spread her hands. "You'd have to get past the Rainbow of Focus."

"Indeed, if we could do anything at all," Harry sighed, "it's already too late."

After a brief silence, Harry suddenly remembered he and Zhang Qiu had come out for Valentine's Day. He lifted his head again, gazing at Zhang Qiu, who was absently sucking on her straw.

"Phew… I didn't realize it was already noon," Zhang Qiu glanced at her watch as if waking from a dream. "Want something to eat?"

"Of course," Harry said, still trying to convince himself to relax.

"But you're tired of the Three Broomsticks, aren't you?" Zhang Qiu's eyes suddenly flickered. "I have an idea—we could go to the Light Snap Photographic Studio."

"Won't that draw Donald's attention?"

"That's exactly the point—to remind him to tone it down," Zhang Qiu spread her hands. "This is the only thing we can do."

"Alright," Harry sighed.

"If we go to the studio now, we might get free food," Zhang Qiu's eyes lit up. "They don't eat until twelve."

"If their food has more of an Eastern flavor…" Harry stood up as he spoke, "but will Cassandra mind us doing this?"

"No, she's very hospitable," Zhang Qiu said. "Besides, I've gotten to know the staff there pretty well."

At the studio, Harry—already a celebrity—was warmly welcomed. Cassandra personally brought them two plates of grilled pork chops with soft-fried egg over rice, drenched in savory tomato sauce—a flavor Harry had never tasted before.

Halfway through the meal, Harry heard commotion outside. Not understanding the foreign language, he whispered to Zhang Qiu what was happening.

"Uh… they didn't expect guests," Zhang Qiu said awkwardly. "We ate the meal meant for the staff."

"This…" Harry set down his knife and fork, embarrassed.

"It's fine—they can eat outside," Zhang Qiu steered his attention back to their date. "We're already here. How about we take two photo sets this afternoon?"

After lunch, at Zhang Qiu's urging, Harry changed into several sets of Celestial attire. His favorite was the Celestial Auror's Flying Fish Robe, which deeply satisfied his innate sense of justice. They took many photo sets together, only returning to school after missing dinner, then sneaking into the kitchen for a late snack.

When the wonderful half-day ended, Harry didn't realize until he reached his dormitory door that he'd forgotten to kiss Zhang Qiu—right when the moment was perfect in every way.

This not only filled Harry with deep regret, but also caused Ron to lose a whole Galleon to Neville.

"Mate, I don't understand how you could do that!" Ron cried in despair. "All afternoon—and then a whole evening! You forgot to kiss her! How could you forget that?"

"Sorry, we were discussing something really upsetting this morning," Harry spread his hands. "Besides, you're the one who bet so much."

"I thought it was a sure thing. I thought Neville was an idiot," Ron's face twisted.

"It's fine—I cheated," Neville tossed a gold coin back to Ron. "I overheard your conversation this morning."

"What?" Harry blinked.

"You probably didn't notice, but Hannah and I were at the Three Broomsticks too—we used Rita's Eavesdropping Charm," Neville shrugged. "Sorry it wasn't intentional—Zhang Qiu's voice was just too loud. We thought there was gossip."

"How much did you hear?" Harry looked at Neville, his expression and tone suggesting he had a solution.

"We started hearing from Rosa Parks," Neville said. "We thought she was some classmate."

"Yes, she was quite emotional then…" Harry nodded, sitting down.

"Actually, I have an idea—why don't we let the Americans pick up a stone and smash their own feet?"

"What does that mean?"

"Just a theory—don't expect too much," Neville glanced at Ron. "I'll do my best, but it has to stay secret for now."

Harry understood: everyone knew Donald was Ron's "best professor," so when plotting against him, they all avoided Ron.

"Let's talk about Quidditch training," Neville changed the subject. "We went to the pitch this afternoon—what a shame, we didn't see the keeper."

Ron's face turned red.

"But the good news is, they're playing so aggressively, they might not even need a keeper to win," Neville chuckled.

"I'm going to bed," Ron pulled the covers over his head, and soon emitted an unrealistically loud snore.

In a flash, Saturday arrived. Harry eagerly anticipated the upcoming Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match, and the Order of the Phoenix, mercifully, sent no noteworthy messages.

The only downside was the match's length—the Gryffindor fans cheered until their throats went hoarse. It was hard to say which was more thrilling: Ron caught nearly every Bludger and even scored a goal himself; Fred and George hit the Bludgers into the goal twice, and on the third try, knocked the opposing keeper off his broom; Angelina broke through defenses multiple times, scoring four goals alone.

The only regret was that Hufflepuff still ended with 150 points: prolonged pressure made Ginny drowsy, and Hufflepuff's Seeker, Shabi, finally seized his chance, snatching the Snitch as Ginny sneezed.

The final score was 420 to 150—this overwhelming victory quickly became Gryffindor's hottest topic.

"You played brilliantly," Harry whispered to Ron in the noisy common room, so he could be heard.

"The keeper was boring," Ron shouted. "Next year I'm going to be a Chaser—I love scoring!"

"Me too!" Ginny yelled. "I chased Shabi for three hours—I'm exhausted!"

They celebrated until two or three in the morning, finally collapsing into bed, utterly drained. Ron fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, snoring loudly and keeping Harry awake.

"Hey." In the darkness, a pair of eyes glowed. "Want to sit outside?"

"Huh? Neville?" Harry perked up. "You're not asleep?"

"I woke up," Neville said helplessly. "Ron's snoring is too loud."

"Ah," Harry pulled on his robe and headed out. "He was pretty tired today."

"I mean, have you noticed two people didn't show up for the celebration?" Neville said. "You might assume they did, but they left way too early."

"You mean Hermione and Elina?" Harry glanced at the closed dorm door—Ron was surely dead to the world.

"Doesn't that seem odd? Ron told me early on that he kissed Elina," Neville rubbed his chin. "But they're acting nothing like a couple."

"Who leaves a boyfriend's big celebration early?" Neville pressed, eyes sharp.

"Yeah… that is unusual," Harry scratched his head. "Zhang Qiu thinks Elina doesn't truly like Ron."

"Oh? She thinks that too?" Neville turned to Harry. "Did she say what Elina really feels?"

"She thinks Elina actually likes Hermione," Harry said. "And she suspects this is Elina's own secret thought."

"Looks like girls understand girls better," Neville nodded deeply. "Hannah thinks the same—she believes Elina is pretending to date Ron under Donald's orders. She also thinks Elina and Hermione's relationship is strange. We all suspect Elina likes Hermione."

"It's not a new guess—the papers reported this story last year," Harry recalled.

"So if we somehow make Hermione notice this—and if, as you discussed, Elina is crucial to the plan—" Neville wagged a finger, "what if we could get them to start dating—or even fall deeply in love—before the plan is carried out? Might that quietly unravel Donald's entire scheme?"

"That's clever… no, wait." Harry suddenly realized something. "If Elina is foolish, she won't see through Donald's plan or oppose him cleverly; but if she's clever, she won't want to defy Donald at all."

"Let's assume she's clever," Neville said. "Then the problem becomes simpler: we just need to make Elina develop a desire to resist Donald—even if only secretly, by pretending to obey."

"And if she already has feelings for Hermione… this shouldn't be hard…" Harry's eyes lit up—Neville had pinpointed the key.

"Leave it to me," Neville said. "After all, if you don't want Ron to know Donald's true intentions, you're not in a good position to act."

"Right—you heard my conversation with Zhang Qiu," Harry said, embarrassed.

"It's fine. Donald revealed his hand long ago," Neville patted his shoulder. "In second year, he encouraged Hannah and me to date—to drive a wedge between me and Hermione. If we'd been more suspicious then, we could've figured it out ourselves."

Back in the dorm, as Ron's snoring faded, Harry lay down, trying to sleep.

But one troubling thought surfaced: if I use Neville and Elina to bypass Donald's notice, isn't that no different from the Ministry using Hermione and innocent students to bypass Death?