Chapter 510

After standing up, Draco leaned casually against the staircase railing; the Room of Requirement was empty, but he had no intention of entering. So Harry leaned against the railing too—after all, their conversation held little need for secrecy.

“Thank you, Potter. I feel much better—” Draco said sincerely. “To be honest, the only thing truly troubling me are some trivial matters. We can certainly elevate this to a grand philosophical level, but ultimately, it’s still about Pansy and Astoria.”

Harry politely murmured an acknowledgment to let him continue. But in Harry’s view, if Draco truly chose Pansy, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. The moment he mentioned both women together, his heart had already tilted toward Astoria.

“Perhaps this issue can be raised further. Astoria’s appearance has made me reexamine the meaning of life. I once had a life others would call perfect—methodical, successful by Shisu standards. But is this truly what I want? What truly brings me inner fulfillment and a sense of worth?”

Harry found this topic overly melodramatic and couldn’t help interrupting: “These are worth pondering, but they’re unrelated to Pansy’s situation. I think you need to take responsibility.”

“Responsibility…” Draco frowned. “I don’t feel any responsibility toward Pansy. Or even if you believe my power benefited from her help, I don’t think that repayment must take the form of marriage.”

Before Harry could respond, Draco looped back on himself: “Of course, from another perspective, even if Astoria… true love doesn’t have to take the form of marriage either.”

“What about your father’s opinion?” Harry asked.

“He’s busy liaising with Muggle politicians and has little energy to care about my love life. Of course, I know he slightly favors Pansy—but Astoria isn’t unacceptable either.” Draco said. “What I fear is that if I accept this life of cold calculations, I’ll live in torment. I want to live for my heart, not for profit…”

Draco began rambling again about freedom and dreams. Harry didn’t take it seriously—he cared more about Lucius’s movements. From scattered reports, he’d deduced Lucius was planning another magical university and seeking parliamentary involvement in Muggle politics. Now, Draco’s words offered confirmation: the old schemer had clearly not ceased his activities.

Though every piece of intelligence Harry gathered was fragmentary, if he put himself in Lucius’s shoes, the old man’s actions and plans became easy to infer—because for Lucius right now, his options were painfully few.

With the Prime Minister clearly focused on the Muggle world and favoring the Order of the Phoenix, Lucius could only turn to the opposition if he wished to retain power. Fortunately, he and the financial capital behind the Conservative Party shared common ground. Opposing the Prime Minister were countless factions; Lucius, as one of them, would easily blend into their alliance.

It wasn’t hard to imagine these groups demanding stricter secrecy laws: Muggle politicians wanted to curb magical interference in politics, while Lucius hoped to use this to suppress the pro-Muggle faction and strengthen his influence in the magical world. But capital’s inherent habit of hedging bets meant their opposition in the Muggle world would remain limited; playing financial games in the magical world would be constrained by Gringotts. Probably, the new magical university was already the greatest achievement these opposition forces could hope for.

This also suited Lucius’s personal habits—he preferred staying among the Prime Minister’s opponents, because the school project might grant him near-leadership authority. The main reason he refused to join the Prime Minister’s team was his negligible influence within it. In Zhang Qiu’s words, he was a man who’d rather be a rooster’s head than a phoenix’s tail.

Harry believed Snape could see all this too—and chose to ignore Lucius’s maneuvers. Perhaps because, viewed as a whole, the magical world benefited from such actions. As for their impact on Muggle politics, at least it couldn’t get worse—clearly, since 1980, that political arena had only deteriorated.

“...So that made me think of what that book said—wait, are you even listening?”

“Of course I am,” Harry said, snapping out of his reverie. He nodded earnestly. “Yes, we were talking about a book. What book?”

“It’s a novel Cui Ge found, exploring dreams and the meaning of life. One line in it struck me deeply: ‘The world is littered with sixpences, yet he looked up and saw the moon.’” Draco said, melancholy. “That’s what truly makes you feel alive—you need a noble pursuit, not just routine…”

“Cough.” Harry interrupted. “I think you and Cui Ge are different. His childhood was hard, and his mother never had profound thoughts. But you—your father gave you this perfect life. Logically, you owe him something…”

As he spoke, Harry suddenly understood another reason for Draco’s confusion: in Lucius’s blueprint and plans, he needed nothing from his son. That explained why Draco treated this love triangle as his paramount issue—because in his life, nothing mattered more than love.

“Alright, sorry. I think I understand you a little better.” Harry patted his shoulder seriously. “I’ve heard of that book—it’s about a painter, right? But do you have any similar interests?”

“It’s not an interest. I want to follow my heart and pursue what I truly desire—but I can’t tell if it’s real love or just rebellion for rebellion’s sake.”

“Oh, if it’s about Astoria, that doesn’t make sense,” Harry shook his head. “Pansy and Astoria are the same thing. No matter which one you choose, it has nothing to do with freedom. Personally, I still support Pansy—she’s always been willing to stand by you. That’s rare.”

“So you still don’t understand me, Harry.” Draco gazed into the distance, eyes unfocused. “Pansy is bound to the Malfoy identity. She’ll only become an enabler of that life—a noblewoman who’ll do anything to hide family scandals, even if her husband cheats. She’s already been assimilated by this decaying aristocracy. Do you understand?”

“But I want something spiritual—when I’m ready to defy convention, she’ll laugh and run away with me to some valley, build a little wooden cabin under the moonlight. That’s a spiritual world for two. That’s what I want.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I want to wake her at dawn and smell the natural scent of straw or linen—not those artificially crafted perfumes. I’m tired of it all: silverware, carpets, robes embroidered with gold thread… My ideal life is in a damp valley with a stream and moonlight, gathering ferns and fishing to make soup… No, I never imagined I’d ever envy the Weasleys’ life. I must be mad.”

“That’s normal,” Harry said, unsure how to respond—he thought Draco’s ideas were a bit mad too.

In the end, Harry let the young master spout his rebellious tirade. Draco, calmer now but still wrapped in his wild fantasies, walked toward his bed.

“Let me analyze this for you,” Zhang Qiu began the next afternoon, after hearing the full account, using her vivid imagination. “He doesn’t truly hate aristocratic life—he’s lost too many times, so he’s blaming his upbringing.”

“The ‘valley with stream and moonlight’? I think it’s a complex fantasy blending Astoria, Luna, and his imagined Weasley life—all born from total rejection of aristocracy and his Jituo on love. One thing you guessed right: Draco can’t find noble self-actualization in his family or society, so he’s pinning life’s meaning on love.”

“But the bad news is, Astoria clearly isn’t the type to live in a valley—her body won’t allow it. And frankly, everything she’s shown so far seems staged. She knows a frail, innocent white lotus is more attractive to a rebellious boy like Draco than a proper lady. Yes—if you’re planning to support Pansy, I’ll advise her to stay still. In this sensitive phase, any move she makes will backfire and be exploited by Astoria.”

“Why do you think so poorly of Astoria?”

“If she were truly innocent,” Zhang Qiu sneered, “the Sorting Hat would have put her in Hufflepuff.”

“Well, it seems Draco’s fantasy will eventually shatter. So whether Pansy or Astoria—they’re both his ‘sixpences’.”

“He actually read that book?” Zhang Qiu was mildly surprised, then handed him a newspaper. “By the way, this is what I meant to tell you today—someone’s actually looking at the moon… and planning to occupy it.”

Harry skimmed the paper: Gennady Ivanovich Yanayev had launched his lunar mission. It likely had little to do with the magical world. But if the Prime Minister insisted on joining in, chaos was inevitable.