Chapter 353

"Experiment?" Harry felt something was off, but on this day of universal celebration, he didn't dampen Ron's spirits right away—he returned to the common room and joined the singing chorus.

Just as Ron was recounting for the tenth time how he saved the first ball of the match, Neville quietly slipped him a note in handwriting that read: Harry, go to the Dumbledore's Army meeting.

Harry glanced at Ron, who was now emphasizing for the eleventh time how he'd "precisely anticipated every thought Bradley had," took a deep breath, and walked out of the dormitory alone, facing the empty corridor.

When he pushed open the door of the Room of Requirement, he found it brighter than usual—all torches lit, clusters of white berries hanging from the ceiling mixed with strange golden orbs, and clocks hanging on every wall.

That's mistletoe, Harry thought silently.

"Uh, are you alone?" Harry instinctively glanced around. "But today is…"

"Today is Gryffindor's great victory, but have you noticed how unusually smooth Ron's performance was on the Quidditch pitch?" Zhang Qiu said seriously. "Even if he truly has that ability, it's too lucky—even the timing of his saves perfectly matched the choir's rhythm."

"Why are you bringing this up suddenly?" Harry was instantly drawn in; his earlier unease vanished.

"You know I'm in sixth year, and the sixth-year Potions textbook mentions…" She pulled out a small golden vial. "Felix Felicis."

"But that's illegal!" Harry exclaimed. "You didn't slip Felix Felicis to Ron, did you?"

"Indeed, athletes consuming Felix Felicis during any competition or exam is illegal—but no one said spectators can't." Zhang Qiu smiled strangely. "Note: I said any competition… and exam."

"Why emphasize exam?" Harry frowned. "I have no intention of cheating on exams, and even if I did, I wouldn't use Felix Felicis."

"Let me explain how I helped Ron become a Quidditch star," Zhang Qiu said, walking slowly with her hands behind her back. "First, Neville knows what Ron saw in the Mirror of Erised—it's no secret. Soon, all Gryffindor fans will know Ron longs to be recognized as an outstanding keeper."

"Then I had Neville and Ivy secretly coordinate all Gryffindor fans to sing 'Weasley Is Our King' in the stands—as if fulfilling his dream. They agreed easily."

"Now there's one problem: to make this happen, they need one prerequisite." Zhang Qiu raised a finger. "Ron must actually be that good."

"That makes sense…" Harry thought so far, Zhang Qiu's logic held.

"Finally, if every person preparing to sing drank just a drop of Felix Felicis before the match…" Zhang Qiu snapped her fingers. "Their luck would ensure their desired outcome—effectively concentrating Felix Felicis's power onto Ron."

"You can do that?" Harry's eyes widened.

"We never dared before because this is essentially gathering everyone's wishes to defy fate—to challenge Death." Zhang Qiu explained. "Felix Felicis is fate's design and favor—every drop, from creation to consumption, is destined. But now, fate no longer exists."

"Ah, so this is an experiment to break fate." Harry suddenly understood. "That's why you kept me in the dark—like Clara said, because I'm special to fate?"

"This isn't an experiment to break fate—it's an experiment to manipulate fate." Zhang Qiu offered a dangerous smile. "It's crude and rudimentary because Donald proposed it, but it's sufficient to demonstrate to the children."

"My Master once suggested a more powerful method… Suppose we all envision a wonderful outcome where everyone passes, then agree to drink Felix Felicis together on the day the OWL results are released. What do you think would happen?"

"Nothing would happen," Harry said calmly. "As far as I know, Felix Felicis only temporarily enhances a person's state—even with fate's guidance, it can't alter what's already happened."

"Precisely. So notice—I said we agree to drink Felix Felicis on the day OWL results are released, not before the exam." Zhang Qiu clapped her hands. "Fate will make them perform beyond their limits during the exam—otherwise, Felix Felicis won't work at all."

"My Master calls this technique… the Great Vow."

"That's insane. This idea is insane." Harry blurted. "It's just an IOU—where are you going to find enough Felix Felicis?"

"Of course we can't find it," Zhang Qiu nodded. "This is defaulting on fate's debt—defaulting on Death's debt." She smirked. "But… is Death still around?"

Harry stared, his mind racing with the possibility, then he regained composure.

"No, no—you're being too idealistic," Harry laughed. "I don't know if fate is completely gone or just lingering as weak energy—but to borrow from fate and default, it must have enough money in its account first."

"Unless you actually find that much Felix Felicis," Harry said seriously. "Otherwise, I suspect it won't work at all."

"Well, that's another experiment," Zhang Qiu shrugged. "At least giving the children more confidence is good. Exams are right around the corner, everyone's reviewed, now it's just about mindset."

Harry pursed his lips. He didn't know what to say—this topic about fate and Felix Felicis seemed over. He knew he should say something else, but his mind was full of it. He recalled something he'd discussed with the Doctor: Felix Felicis doesn't make people lucky—it's that on the day someone is meant to be lucky, they suddenly remember to drink a bit of it.

But that wasn't worth mentioning—it was clearly Death's manipulation, and now Death was gone, so it didn't matter.

Harry felt his hands had nowhere to rest, his mind unable to find words. Embarrassed, he turned to look away—and noticed his name written on the clock faces on the wall.

"I drank Felix Felicis too," Zhang Qiu suddenly said. "I drank the most—a teaspoon."

"Really?" Harry turned to look at her.

"Before I came in, I hadn't decided what to say to you," Zhang Qiu walked slowly toward him. "I was going to… well, I suddenly decided to tell you about fate. Normally, I'd just cry a little."

"Cry?" Harry looked at her, puzzled

"The Felix Felicis told me that if I just cried, we could… but you know, I've never cried in front of you, so I think it must be broken." Zhang Qiu sniffled and smiled.

"But I still said it, because I have another wish, another thing I want to accomplish—and" she took a deep breath, "I'm sorry for what happened last year."

"What do you mean?"

"Tranzero, the place of buried bones." Zhang Qiu spoke with solemnity. "We had countless methods, but I followed my Master's orders and used… the one worst for you."

"Was it that bad?" Harry rubbed his chin. "Didn't we have no other choice back then?"

"I wanted to make up for that outcome. I didn't want you carrying such heavy pressure. I haven't seen you smile much this year, or even pause your thinking." Zhang Qiu whispered. "You're too tired, Harry."

"Your Master couldn't have used another method either." Harry, recalling Dumbledore's death, had once blamed Xuan Jun—but he quickly understood. "If Xuan Jun or the Soviets hadn't sealed off Death, even their wildest ideas wouldn't have worked."

"My uncle and I devised a plan—a plan to help you…" Zhang Qiu's tone was strange. "Felix Felicis told me I should tell you now about the secrets of fate—but that means I'd have to give up what I was meant to—"

"It's fine. Felix Felicis should be enough to grant both your wishes." Harry gripped her shoulders; he saw the comical half-sobbing, half-smiling expression. "Even though you've spouted so many riddles about fate and always can't say the word—I guessed. I guessed the moment I saw the mistletoe."

"I do like you, Harry."

He couldn't think. A trembling sensation spread through his entire body, numbing his arms and legs, yet his mind was strangely clear—he didn't know if it was due to Occlumency.

One of Donald's lies was that Zhang Qiu had missed fate, that the mistletoe had missed Christmas, that she had missed a kiss long overdue.

Divination was late again—but late is better than never.