Chapter 495: Beyond the Gossip

The final score of the first House Cup match was 140 to 150; Harry, leveraging his superior broom-flying experience alongside Ginny, contained Cui Ge, and the three of them delivered the most thrilling aerial duel in recent years. The other Slytherin players struggled to keep pace, failing to achieve expected scoring efficiency, and when Greengrass’s performance declined, Gryffindor seized the opportunity to end the match early.

The spectators and commentators in the stadium were electrified—some cheering Cui Ge’s exceptional flying skills, others marveling at Gryffindor’s clever tactics; students from both Lion and Snake Houses declared it a fiercely balanced, exhilarating battle, unusually free of any fan clashes.

Yet outside the stadium, subtle calculations continued to circulate. Seeing that the Prince was genuinely interested in flying sports, Draco had intended to recommend Astoria Greengrass as a marriage prospect. But during this match, she appeared like a favor-seeker infiltrating the team, while Ginny demonstrated undeniable athletic skill and youthful passion—even Draco admitted that Ginny on the field was utterly captivating.

Afterward, Draco had no choice but to shift strategy, attempting to craft Astoria’s image as a “genius, frail beauty,” hoping to enhance her appeal through perceived intellectual depth and willingness to accept royal control. This certainly appealed more to those behind the Prince, but to the Prince himself, he seemed to prefer Ginny—vibrant, full of youthful energy. They had several polite dates, gradually deepening their understanding of each other, while Astoria’s progress remained stuck at a single ballroom dance, leaving Draco deeply anxious.

What further constrained him was that only a few knew the Prince’s true identity; many Slytherin students, unaware of the truth, questioned why he persistently pushed the universally beloved freshman toward a Muggle—especially one chosen by the Weasleys. As for Astoria herself, though she never explicitly rejected the Prince, her attitude was far from warm.

Under mounting pressure, Draco finally had to make a difficult decision: withdraw from the marriage competition to court the royal family, and instead seek other strategies capable of breaking his family’s stalemate.

Of course, all this Zhang Qiu learned through Pan Xi; Harry knew almost nothing of it. Ever since the celebration after the match, when Ron cheerfully accepted Ivy’s kiss, his attention had been fixed entirely on the two of them.

For most of November, the two remained in a state of “passionate but restrained” relationship; it wasn’t until month’s end, prompted by Zhang Qiu, that Harry realized he should reduce his focus on them—or risk backfiring.

“I mean, all this romantic gossip is draining too much of your energy. Haven’t you noticed the subtle maneuvers of other factions?” Zhang Qiu prompted. “For instance, the Malfoys are colluding with new Muggle capital and secretly negotiating with Oxford; intelligence suggests Soviet agents are attempting to steal floating-city technology—though this is part of the plan, we can’t appear ignorant; and we should also pay closer attention to Hermione’s mental state—she still hasn’t abandoned her A-Levels, and it’s hard to say what she’s truly thinking.”

“Oh, right, let me think.” Harry scratched his head. “But does it matter? If the Malfoys want to join the construction of Calia Academy—or even start their own university—it’s not bad for our magical world either.”

“And the floating city—it’s a complex system. Even if they obtained all the technology, they’d still need years to design and build it. Besides, is the floating city really that powerful? I think its symbolic value outweighs its practical one.” Harry spread his hands. “Are you trying to use it to drain both American and Soviet strength simultaneously?”

“Yes and no. While its purpose is indeed to drain strength, the floating city itself is an extremely potent weapon—it’s a ‘spectacle that undermines the state’ strategy,” Zhang Qiu explained. “In other words, for the British Empire, already idle, investing manpower and resources into the floating city has little negative impact. But if Yanayev tries to follow suit, he’ll face intensified domestic contradictions and decades of technological imbalance.”

“What do you mean by technological imbalance?”

“It means most talent and research focus shift toward the floating city and its applications. Fields that should be developing—like magical fundamentals, material empowerment theory, and other profound subjects beyond the secrecy laws—will stagnate because they’re forced to make way for the floating city project.” Zhang Qiu briefly explained the floating city’s impact on national strength, then returned to the matter at hand. “Of course, those are ministers’ concerns. We still need to pay attention to Hermione’s thoughts—I think she…”

“I think there’s nothing wrong with her. She’s always been a clever girl with strong opinions.” Harry now wanted to discuss the floating city further, worried it might harm the Ministry of Magic too. “Let’s return to the floating city—how do you suggest we prevent the British Ministry from facing the same dilemma?”

“Hmm, alright. Let’s outline a rough plan.” Zhang Qiu rubbed his chin. “The Celestial Dynasty will send a team to provide technical aid—some experts who participated in the Forbidden City project, or their students.”

“Clearly, everyone will know this team is here largely because of your influence. That lets you gain immense visibility in the finished city at minimal cost. In truth, the floating city’s military prospects are limited; its real value lies in its symbolic presence.”

“Why say its military prospects are limited?” Harry recalled earlier newspaper reports. “According to what I’ve read, the Celestial Dynasty used floating cities to rapidly deploy troops and crushed the Allied forces effortlessly—the front line is already nearing the Ganges.”

“True, but consider the overall power disparity,” Zhang Qiu shrugged. “A nation capable of building floating cities already possesses conventional military strength sufficient to crush those that cannot.”

The logic was sound: every technology behind the floating city implied a fusion of magic and science. Only a nation like the Celestial Dynasty, which had been exploring the boundaries of secrecy laws for centuries, could reach such heights within a few years after the Death Eaters’ demise—any other power attempting it would be unrealistic.

“Alright, I’ll go along with your plan,” Harry felt a quiet disappointment. “Of course, the university remains my top priority—I hope its establishment will help us extract more benefits from the floating city project.”

“Speaking of which, have you made progress on the university’s framework?”

“Snape and the Ministry have held several rounds of discussions. The Ministry is eager for him to become headmaster, and professors have all expressed willingness to conduct advanced research with smarter students. Now we’re only debating faculty divisions and curriculum details.” Harry remained optimistic about this progress. “Perhaps within one or two months, we’ll have a preliminary conclusion.”

“I guessed right—many Hogwarts professors prefer teaching at the university,” Zhang Qiu said with a faint smile. “But then, Hogwarts will face professor vacancies. Have you considered how to fill them?”

“We’re considering hiring outstanding former graduates. Snape has already contacted a few decent candidates… though Defense Against the Dark Arts remains unresolved—we’re still uncertain whether a Ph.D. can withstand the curse.” Harry scratched his head. “By the way, my internship this year is ‘Senior Investigator at Hogwarts’—if I can clarify the professor transfers and replacements, that’ll make for a near-perfect internship report.”

“My point is, since we already have Donna setting a good precedent,” Zhang Qiu suggested, “we could leverage old Triwizard Tournament connections to bring Krum over to teach—start with one year of Defense Against the Dark Arts, then switch to Flying Lessons. More importantly, if the Malfoys insist on opening another university, we must solve the student recruitment problem. One secondary school isn’t enough; three would be ideal.”

“You mean attracting European magical teenagers to study here?” Harry found the idea neither bad nor particularly good. “But our stance toward Europe is still uncertain.”

“I can only say: Europe is there. If you don’t claim it, Yanayev will.”

“We’ve said this before—overly close ties with or exploitation of Europe dilutes our own independence. It’s a difficult dilemma.”

“Hermione actually addressed this before—she had some unconventional ideas. You know how in some corporations, with many shareholders, the chairman can control the company with less than five percent ownership? Hermione thinks this model could apply to international alliances.” Zhang Qiu explained. “She wants to use a larger alliance to suppress the EU—you’ve probably heard of it—the English-Speaking Alliance, abbreviated ETO.”

“You mean pulling out of the EU… wait, but does the EU even have English-speaking countries?” Harry felt the logic was muddled. “And if we’re talking globally, we’re not even the largest English-speaking nation.”

“You noticed that too, didn’t you? That’s why I say I don’t know what she’s thinking.” Zhang Qiu shrugged. “Still, if this truly benefits Britain, we can join forces.”