Chapter 496

In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Harry could be described as idle and aimless. But Hermione remained immersed in the sea of knowledge, and thus, the only opportunity he had to casually talk with her was Friday dinner—her few remaining moments of relaxation.

As she fiddled with the roasted vegetables on her plate, Hermione laid out her thoughts—or rather, her reasoning—to Harry: “First and foremost, our comprehensive national strength is not outstanding; therefore, if Great Britain wishes to gain greater international presence, it must rely on alliances.”

“Given this premise, we easily notice the EU’s existence, but the EU may not accept our dominance within any alliance—indeed, some EU nations are already attempting to influence and manipulate us, which is precisely why the pro-EU and Eurosceptic factions remain locked in bitter debate.”

“I believe the EU situation is nearly a dead end. Great Britain must consider alternative paths to revival and rise. The more I think about how to handle Europe, the more firmly I’m convinced: our best strategy is to leverage the English language’s advantage and establish an ETO organization to expand our influence.”

After hearing her preliminary ideas, Harry immediately blurted out the crucial question: “But we all know Great Britain isn’t the strongest English-speaking nation—so how can we truly expand our influence through the ETO?”

“Yes, so for now, it’s still just a hypothesis,” Hermione sighed. “Anglo-American relations are incredibly delicate. We’ve gained much from them, but at the cost of completely losing the chance to become a superpower.”

“I only have some preliminary thoughts, Harry,” she muttered, “Yanayev will be a crucial figure. I think you need to build a good relationship with him.”

“But I don’t think we need to obsess over being a superpower,” Harry said sincerely. “What’s the point?”

“It’s a beautiful vision—and we’ve already accomplished half of it, thanks to you,” Hermione gazed at him intently. “Our magical power has reached the world’s peak, and our diplomatic relations with Tianchao far surpass those of other nations. This makes others—not just me, I believe the Prime Minister too—unconsciously wonder how we can align our Muggle-world status and strength with our magical-world power.”

“Of course, for a long time before, as you said, most people never considered the idea of a superpower, leaving us somewhat behind. Fortunately, this is a very special era: one major reason we can still play an important international role is the Cold War; if it ends, no matter who wins or loses, we’ll become a marginal nation no one cares about.”

“What does it mean for the Cold War to end?” Harry asked. “And must we, for the sake of one nation’s ambition, keep pushing this dangerous, peace-threatening situation?”

“True—but how much real power do we have to influence the Cold War’s outcome, let alone cause one side to collapse entirely?”

Harry fell silent. The more he understood the Muggle world’s situation, the more impossible Yanayev seemed to defeat. Unless they pinned their hopes on Tianchao—but many Tianchao officials had clearly stated they only intended limited expansion in Southeast Asia, and once Xuan Jun finished his work, they’d return to their isolationist, disengaged state.

“And notice—I’m not saying we should defeat Su Fang,” Hermione prompted. “Just like the Prime Minister’s offshore balancing strategy, perhaps we should consider how to defeat the U.S. Can you imagine: in which world would Great Britain have more room to grow?”

Childhood memories struck Harry again: if magical power was the core competitive advantage, then for the increasingly ambitious British Empire, he indeed had both motive and channels to contact and assist its ostensible enemy.

But how would they define victory and declare the Cold War over? Optimistically, Harry imagined a new technology emerging, creating a strategic gap so vast it forced one side to surrender—but pessimistically, the result might be economic collapse, forcing one side into foreign war.

Watching Harry sink into thought, Hermione shook her head and forked the last piece of vegetable into her mouth. “None of that is within our reach right now. Let’s focus on real business.”

“Real business, like our magical university,” Harry snapped back to attention and picked a topic he hoped might cheer her up. “The royal family’s first funding has arrived. The Ministry of Magic plans to meet with Cambridge officials next week. That’s a good step forward, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, that’s certainly real business,” Hermione smiled and nodded. “I was actually going to remind you—the Prince invited Ginny and Ivy to watch Manchester United play Liverpool. It’ll be an incredible match, and I believe they’ll gain a lot from it.”

“What’s that? Football?”

“Yes,” Hermione explained. “In some ways, it’s very similar to Quidditch—it’ll become a perfect, appropriate shared topic between the Prince and Ginny. On another level, lessons learned from legendary Muggle coaches can help Ivy better engage with and manage Quidditch affairs, greatly aiding her pursuit of Ron.”

“Good heavens, so Ivy’s sudden insights into Quidditch are because…”

“Yes, it was my suggestion,” Hermione admitted freely. “I originally only advised her to read related books or theories, but I didn’t expect the Earl of Grantham’s influence to be so great—she actually got to meet Ferguson in person.”

“So who is Ferguson?”

“The most successful and legendary football coach of recent years,” Hermione said. “His Manchester United has won four Premier League titles, and some of the prodigies he’s trained are now shining brightly. For Ivy’s future, I believe continuing to deepen her expertise in Quidditch and establishing a more professional system for it is both easy and profoundly meaningful.”

Harry rubbed his chin. “When you say ‘easy,’ are you assuming the Premier League’s professional system is already so mature that Ivy just needs to copy it into the magical world and she’ll effortlessly become a successful Quidditch coach?”

"Well, given the magical world’s small population, she might have to serve as manager, coach, data analyst, and more. But another factor is Ginny’s plan to become a professional Quidditch player in the future—having a close friend by her side, I believe both their work will become joyful and passionate,” Hermione explained, then her expression grew serious. “And beyond that, I believe Quidditch holds immense significance for British magical society. We can use Quidditch to break new ground and enhance our cultural influence worldwide—this complements our magical university perfectly.”

“There’s another factor you may have overlooked,” Hermione sighed. “From the 1980s to now—setting aside areas where we already held advantages—our country’s only field that rose from obscurity and ridicule to global leadership was football. Note: I mean the only one.”

Harry quickly recalled the Muggle world’s changes: indeed, amid a general decline in most areas and only partial advantages elsewhere, football alone offered a success story from valley to peak.

“I think, in Quidditch—the field closest to football—we should try to summarize and imitate this model, and further consider how to apply this success to other areas. Even if not that far, at least everyone wants to see more exciting Quidditch matches, right?”

As Harry left the Great Hall, he was still stunned by Hermione’s brilliant ideas—so much so that when he met Zhang Qiu again, the first thing he brought up wasn’t world politics, but the strange fusion of Quidditch and football.

“Yes, yes, don’t tell me you two only talked about that,” Zhang Qiu gave him a sidelong glance. “I’m reminding you: Tianchao’s technical assistance team will arrive soon. We need a pre-established, unified stance on the floating city.”

Yet as Harry recalled the first half of his conversation with Hermione, he suddenly felt as if waking from a dream, clarity dawning.

The floating city—if, as Donald suggested, we add spatial teleportation technology and the Focusing Rainbow weapon system—it would become an impregnable, elusive fortress, a terrifying strategic weapon. In some sense, the city’s ascension might even mark the end of the Cold War.

But from Great Britain’s perspective, would they truly wish to crush Yanayev completely? If driven by ambition, then on the floating city project, the Bai Gong must not gain too much. Even more narrowly: why allow the Magical Congress—or even Donald personally—to use a few coins to share the glory of the magical pinnacle?

Harry suddenly looked up, resolute. “We must stop developing weapon systems. It’s detrimental to world peace. We should build it as a thriving city of science, education, and culture.”