Chapter 336

The next morning, Harry received a letter from Sirius, saying Bellatrix wanted to retrieve Nagini early, for which she had transferred many valuable assets and added a large sum of cash.

This lifted Harry's spirits slightly; he decided to rally himself and spend a full day reviewing his textbooks and carefully completing his assignments.

That evening, Harry returned to his dormitory, satisfied with his fully filled assignment book, only to find Ron sitting on the floor wrapped in a blanket, looking dejected.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I went to talk to Elena," Ron said gloomily. "Zhang Qiu was right—she doesn't really like me."

"What?" Harry was surprised. "You went to see her directly?"

"Is that not allowed?" Ron pulled a strand of fur from the blanket. "She came back to me on Wednesday, but we didn't even have much fun."

"Uh," Harry set down his book and sat beside him—he felt Ron needed someone to talk to right now.

"She kept talking about Hermione. She said Hermione is her best friend—even yesterday, she said they left early because Hermione wasn't feeling well."

"Oh, I thought you hadn't noticed."

"I'm rarely like this, you know?" Ron sighed. "After winning the match, I really wanted Elena to see it… though I didn't even spot her in the stands. When I saw her leave without a word, the victory felt hollow."

"So what did you talk about today?" Harry asked calmly.

"I felt she was treating me half-heartedly. I think she values Hermione more. It's just…" Ron sighed again. "If Zhang Qiu hadn't mentioned LGBT to me, maybe I wouldn't care so much."

"And how did she respond?"

"She… I felt she was still dodging me," Ron's tone grew slightly angry. "She said I shouldn't be jealous of a best friend, and told me to put myself in her shoes—said Zhang Qiu never envied me."

Harry didn't know what to say—romantic progress was the one thing he did worse than Ron, even worse than Malfoy.

"So that's it—we parted on bad terms," Ron spread his hands.

"So you've been sitting wrapped in a blanket all this time," Harry couldn't help laughing. "I thought from your face you two had broken up."

"I think it's coming," Ron frowned. "I've started making up my mind—I don't want to keep wasting energy on her just to prove to her how charming I am in front of Hermione."

"We've got so many great things to do!" Ron slapped the floor.

"Like passing an OWL first?" Harry deliberately picked that topic.

Ron gave a bitter smile, then stood up. "Alright, you're right—we can't expect someone who can't even pass an exam to accomplish anything big."

To Harry's surprise, Ron truly seemed to have changed; for the rest of the week, he went to the library with Harry, diligently wrote his own assignments, and even asked Harry for study help from time to time.

"He's just sulking," Zhang Qiu whispered to Harry Saturday while Ron was at Quidditch practice. "More accurately—he's sulking at himself."

"Sulking about what?" Harry didn't look up—he was flipping through an advanced Transfiguration textbook.

"He's angry at himself for falling for Elena so easily," Zhang Qiu concluded, "and for giving up Hermione so easily."

"As you said before, it's too late now to do anything about it," Harry closed his book. "Since Donald pulled out the Rainbow of Focus, this matter isn't something we can easily interfere with."

"There's a saying: it's not too late to mend the sheepfold after you've lost a sheep," Zhang Qiu said sharply. "Ron's change of heart is because Elena was indifferent—that's Donald shooting himself in the foot."

"That's the second time I've heard that. Do Americans really love rocks so much?" Harry complained. "Neville said the same thing—he's planning to push Elena and Hermione together to block Donald."

"Oh? That's not bad—but there's one condition: Ron must not still like Hermione," Zhang Qiu shrugged. "But I feel he still has feelings for her."

"Don't you think that's wrong?" Harry hesitated, then voiced his concern. "Using Neville and Elena to bypass Donald—how is that different from the Ministry using innocent students to bypass Death?"

"That's nothing," Zhang Qiu giggled. "First, tell me—are we doing this for Hermione's sake?"

"I suppose so," Harry muttered. "I don't want her to become the next Cassandra."

"Exactly. Your motive is good. Second, think about this: Donald is still half-decent. Would he really blame innocent people because of unpredictable circumstances?" Zhang Qiu pressed.

"Setting aside his rotten behavior in love, Donald is still somewhat human in other ways," Harry reluctantly admitted.

"Finally, you must know: reneging on promises is an American instinct. After receiving the Rainbow of Focus, do you truly intend to keep your word and never interfere again—even superficially, or just by remembering it?" Zhang Qiu raised a hand. "If so, your moral standard is far higher than his."

"Alright, thanks," Harry pressed his lips together. "But if possible, I'd still rather not use Neville and Elena as pawns."

"Then do it honorably," Zhang Qiu pointed out the window. "Let Ron face his own heart. Let him boldly pursue Hermione."

"I doubt it'll work—it has to come from within him," Harry picked up his book again. "I even suspect that once he figures it out, he'll realize he doesn't like Hermione at all."

Yet sometimes, what Zhang Qiu called "fate" is strangely unpredictable. On Monday, while Harry and Ron were at the Slug Club, they were astonished to find Hermione approaching them on her own.

"Hey, Ron, I…" She looked hesitant. "Cough—what I mean is, I've uncovered a huge conspiracy in the Ministry of Magic."

"What?" This instantly caught Harry and Ron's attention. They lowered their voices and pulled her aside. "What's going on?"

"You know we got a new Minister of Defense, right?" Hermione said. "Actually, the former Minister was practically forced out."

"What even is this?" Ron frowned.

"What I mean is, the Ministry clearly favors the Labour Party, and Lei is its main force—so Major shouldn't have done this," Hermione whispered. "Unless someone forced him."

"Ah, ah," Harry murmured, confused.

"Haven't you noticed the newspapers? Blair's been in the Ministry for nearly half a month—that's unusual!"

"Blair… who's that?" Ron's voice rose slightly.

"Ah, Miss Granger," Slughorn passed by with a glass of fruit wine. "If you want to find conversation with Mr. Weasley, avoid topics he knows nothing about. Perhaps you could discuss Potions instead."

Ron narrowed his eyes—he knew even less about Potions.

"Fine, let's talk about Potions," Hermione pouted, dragging out the word—but as soon as the professor left, she said, "Alright, simply put: I suspect the Ministry plans to interfere in the election."

"Election? They want the public to vote for Harry?" Ron laughed.

"Uh, elections aren't about who you want to vote for," Harry scratched his head. "But this seems completely unrelated to us—I think you should pay more attention to student movements."

"You mean the off-campus magical incidents involving Muggle-borns—they've been making a fuss for ages," Harry tried to hint subtly. "I feel the Ministry is pushing hard here."

"A few noisy students versus the next Prime Minister—who do you think matters more?" Hermione's voice rose involuntarily; she quickly glanced around nervously.

"So all this time, you're talking about the Muggle world?" Ron finally caught on. "You think the Ministry plans to interfere in the Muggle election—and supports someone named 'Lei Bai'?"

"She means the Labour Party—a political party opposing the Conservatives, like the Order of the Phoenix versus the Death Eaters, but without clear good or evil," Harry gave Ron a rough explanation. "If I recall right, the Conservatives have won four straight elections since Thatcher—even if the Ministry wants to rig votes for Labour… they can't show their face. What can they do? Make Muggle-borns go home and vote?"

"Still, I advise you to pay close attention to Blair," Hermione said stiffly.

"I advise you to pay more attention to campus student movements," Harry glanced at Ron, wondering if Hermione had fabricated this alarming topic just to get their attention.

"Alright, let's set these worries aside for now—next week Arnold is inviting a guest professor for a public lecture. Aren't you excited?" Harry deliberately switched to a topic Ron could engage with.

"Unless he invites Thatcher," Hermione snapped. "I think the magical world is beyond saving."

"Can you name someone I actually know?" Ron's voice grew sharp.

"Yes, fairly speaking, her giving a public lecture to middle schoolers won't accomplish much," Harry smoothed things over. "And the magical world needs someone with immense magical power—systems come second."

"If he could invite Xuan Jun, that'd be interesting," Ron grinned.

"Oh…" Hermione made a pained face. "You two talk. I think I have a stomachache."

She walked out of the classroom at a pace that didn't look like she had a stomachache at all.

"What's she thinking?" Ron grumbled.

"The good news is, she originally came to talk to you," Harry awkwardly rubbed his arm. "The bad news is, the Hermione of now probably has little in common with you anymore."