Chapter 540

Harry continued practicing his new abilities in the courtyard. Today's focus was on advanced applications of Environmental Synchronization.

It's not just about blending into the environment, but about trying to move while blending in.

This is much more difficult than remaining still, because once you start moving, it's very difficult to keep your Magic Fluctuation completely synchronized with the surrounding environment.

He tried more than ten times, and each time he would be exposed on the third step—either a tree would suddenly become hostile to him, or the grass under his feet would become unnatural.

Sebastian's ghost floated nearby, offering advice from time to time.

"Your problem is that you're trying too hard," Sebastian said. "You're forcing yourself to fit in, instead of truly becoming a part of it. A tree doesn't think, 'I want to be a tree,' it is a tree, and you have to be one too."

"You make it sound so easy," Harry muttered. "You're not a living person."

"That's exactly my strength," Sebastian said smugly. "As a ghost, I naturally have a sense of alienation from my surroundings—conversely, it's easier for me to blend in when I want to. Try not to overthink it, just take a few steps, take a few steps—"

Harry took a deep breath and tried again.

He took his first step, feeling the softness of the grass beneath his feet. His second step, the touch of the wind on his cheek. His third step, the warmth of the sun on his skin. His fourth step—

He stopped and looked back; Sebastian was staring wide-eyed in his direction.

"What's wrong?"

"You've disappeared," Sebastian said. "Not really disappeared, but I can no longer sense you. Your Magic Fluctuation, your life force, have become exactly the same as the surrounding grass, trees, and air. If I hadn't heard you speak, I wouldn't have known there was anyone here."

Harry looked down at himself, then looked around; nothing particularly changed.

But he could sense that he had indeed entered a strange state—not merging with the environment, but becoming a part of it.

He took a few more steps, and maintained that momentum.

He could even feel the blades of grass bending and bouncing gently beneath his feet, feel the resistance of the air flowing over his body, and feel the warmth of the sunlight on his skin.

"It's a success," he said softly.

"It seems the theory really works," Sebastian said reservedly, but his tone was full of pride.

Around noon, Kingsley and Tonks returned.

Kingsley's expression was somewhat grave, and Tonks's hair had turned dark gray—a sign that she was in a bad mood.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked immediately.

Kingsley took off his robe and hung it on the back of his chair. "There's been a problem with the Confederation. The American Ministry of Magic has formally requested to send observers to participate in the operation, and has demanded veto power at crucial moments."

"A veto?" Lupin frowned. "What right do they have?"

"Because they are important members of international magical security," Kingsley said with a hint of sarcasm. "To put it bluntly, they want a piece of the pie at the last minute. If the operation succeeds, they can say they participated in supervising and ensured its legitimacy; if it fails, they can absolve themselves of responsibility by saying their veto power wasn't actually adopted."

"That's outrageous!" Tonks said angrily. "What did Chairman Veratia say?"

"Veratia hasn't said anything yet," Kingsley said, "But she seems to be reaching her limit and might quietly kill these people at any moment."

Harry walked in from the courtyard and overheard the conversation. He said, "Then let them send observers."

Everyone looked at him.

"They can't do anything anyway," Harry shrugged. "If a fight really breaks out, what good will those observers do? They'll either hide in the back and watch, or they'll get involved. If they choose the latter, then we'll have a few more helpers; if they choose the former, then we'll just have a few more spectators, it won't make a difference."

Kingsley paused for a moment, then laughed, "Harry, your idea is really simplistic and crude."

"As long as it works," Harry said. "The most important thing now is time; we can't afford to delay any longer."

Kingsley nodded. "You're right. I'll communicate with Ms. Grindelwald and accept their request, but on the condition that the observers must obey the commander-in-chief's orders and not interfere with any tactical decisions."

"That's more like it." Tonks ' hair slowly turned back to a warm orange.

Lunch was once again Ruby's creation; today's main course was Shepherd's Pie, served with a fresh vegetable salad and toasted garlic bread.

Ron ate to his heart's content, even licking the plate clean—a behavior that Hermione stared at with extreme disgust for a full ten minutes, but Ron didn't care at all.

"Food should not be wasted!" he said righteously.

"You can't lick the plate!" Hermione said indignantly.

Why not? Nobody saw it.

"We all saw it!"

You can pretend you didn't see it.

Kingsley coughed lightly, deciding not to participate in the debate.

Tonks laughed so hard he almost fell over, and his hair turned a cheerful bright yellow.

In the afternoon, Bill finally extracted complete energy cycle data from the Crystal shard.

He rushed out of the study excitedly, almost tripping over the threshold, but before he could even lift his head, the Parchment in his hand was held steadily in the air.

"It's out! The complete cycle!"

The crowd immediately gathered around. Bill spread the Parchment on the table, on which was drawn a complex curve, marked with countless time points and energy peaks.

"Based on this cycle, the energy peak will reach its highest point around 3 PM on the 15th of next month," Bill said, pointing to the highest point of the curve. "The error will be no more than two hours, meaning Voldemort is most likely to launch the ritual around that time."

"Nineteen days," Kingsley murmured. "Then we must reach the Core Zone before 3 PM nineteen days from now."

"No," Cassandra suddenly said, "We must disrupt his ritual preparations before three o'clock. If we arrive after three, it might be too late."

"That means we actually only have eighteen days, minus two days for travel," Hermione calculated quickly. "From London to Chile, plus the time to cross the Thunderstorm Zone and the intermediate defense line—we must depart no later than the early morning of the 13th of next month."

"Seventeen days," Harry looked at everyone, "Is that enough?"

"That's enough," Kingsley said. "The main force will be fully assembled by tomorrow, the equipment will arrive the day after tomorrow, and we can set off at dawn the day after that. There's plenty of time."

"The same goes for Infiltration Squad," Dyg said. "I've almost prepared the tools I need."

Silva is all ready; she can come anytime.

"It's settled then," Harry said. "We'll depart at dawn on the 13th of next month."

The atmosphere became tense, but also more clear.

All that's left is to give it your all.

In the following days, Grimmauld Place, Number 13 entered a true countdown.

Every day is fully scheduled, everyone has their own tasks, and every minute is made full use of.

Strangely, despite this high pressure, the atmosphere remained quite calm, like the calm before a storm.

On the morning of the first day, Silva arrived at Grimmauld Place using Portkey.

She carried a large backpack that looked worn but was actually enchanted with Untraceable Extension Charm, filled with various tools and medicines she had accumulated over the years in the jungles and mountains of South America.

Hermione showed her around the mansion and arranged for her to stay in a guest room on the second floor.

"It's nice here." Silva looked around. "Warmer than I expected."

"That's because Ruby's burning the fireplace really bright," Hermione laughed.

At lunch, Silva met with everyone. She didn't say much, but every word she uttered was meaningful.

Ron tried to greet her in his broken Portugal, but it came out as some strange variation of "Have you eaten?" Silva paused for a moment, then replied earnestly in English, "Yes, thank you."

Ron blushed with embarrassment, while Tonks laughed so hard he slapped the table.

In the afternoon, the Infiltration Squad conducted its first group training session.

Dyg set up a simulated ancient trap array in the courtyard, using replicas of various magical mechanisms he had collected from all over the world.

With her extensive wilderness experience, Silva quickly found a path to bypass most of the traps; Cassandra used the Silver Compass to detect several hidden key nodes; and Tonks used his Metamorphmagus ability to transform into various forms to test the traps' reactions.

Harry was tasked with finishing off the remaining enemies with his newfound abilities. After his teammates found the path, he tried to Ley Lines sense to locate more hidden vulnerabilities.

He discovered that although several traps appeared to be bypassed, they had a subtle connection to the Ley Lines, and these traps would still be activated once the Ley Lines were disturbed.

"The Ley Lines are like backup power for these traps," he explained to his teammates. "Even if you bypass the surface trigger points, they'll still explode if the Ley Lines shift. So we have to find the hidden nodes connected to the Ley Lines and take care of them too."

Dyg's eyes lit up. "Mr. Potter, your ability is the bane of ancient ruins! What used to take me months to crack, you can find the key in minutes!"

"Just lucky," Harry said modestly.

"It's not luck," Cassandra said, "It's talent."

In the evening, Veratia returned. She had been engaged in a day-long tug-of-war with the representatives of the American Ministry of Magic, and finally reached an agreement: the US could send three observers to participate in the operation, but they must obey the overall command throughout the operation and must not interfere with any tactical decisions. In exchange, the US would provide the operation with a batch of advanced magic detection equipment and five experienced Auror as technical support.

"Better than expected," Kingsley commented. "At least five more fighters."

"Five combatants with their hands tied." Veratia sneered. "The American instructions to them were probably to observe, record, and defend themselves if necessary, absolutely not to take risks. But it's better than nothing, I suppose."

Finally, she gave a cold snort, "I'm starting to regret becoming the President of the International Confederation of Wizards. If it were before—"

She didn't say what she was going to say next, but everyone knew what she was going to do.

The American Ministry of Magic is too urbanized.

After dinner, everyone gathered in the Living Room.

The fireplace was burning brightly, Ruby brought out mulled wine and snacks.

No one brought up work; they just chatted casually, enjoying this rare moment of relaxation.

Ron recounted an embarrassing incident from his childhood with the Twins: "----Then Fred said to me, George, look at Ron's face, doesn't it look like our new fireworks test target? George said, 'It does!' Then they strapped me to a chair and put a whole box of fireworks on my head."

"And then?" Silva asked curiously.

"Then I exploded into fireworks," Ron said expressionlessly. "When my mom rushed in, my hair was still green, my face was red, and I was covered in multicolored smoke. Fred and George were long gone."

My mom chased after them for three whole days.

Everyone burst into laughter, even Veratia couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Hermione leaned against Ron. Although she had heard this story countless times, she still found it interesting every time.

Because this means Ron had a loving childhood, even if the way that love was sometimes a little dangerous.

Anne nestled next to Harry; she hadn't fallen asleep today, but was listening intently to the stories being told.

Sebastian's ghost floated behind her, occasionally interjecting a few words—one of which was about the embarrassing incident when he accidentally turned himself into a semi-transparent form while researching Dark Arts in the Slytherin crypts.

"And then it turned out like this?" Ron asked.

"No, that was only temporary," Sebastian said. "It was an experimental blunder. I turned myself translucent for three days. During that time, I passed through seven walls, scared five first-year students to tears, and almost got captured by Gladwin Moon, who mistook me for Peeves's accomplice."

"So how did you recover?" Hermione asked, very curious.

"I found the way to break the curse on the tower," Sebastian said with a shrug, "And then it became this tower in Azkaban."

"Can't you learn from this?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Knowledge always comes at a price," Director Sebastian said confidently, hands on his hips.

"Speaking of which," he continued, "When are you going to bring back Ominis's portrait? It must be quite boring having it hanging around the school all by itself. Or maybe we could make a copy so he can move around freely."

"Is it possible—" Anne asked, her tone complicated, "That he might not really want to see you?"

"Why?" Sebastian asked.

"Because you talk too much," Harry added kindly.

Everyone burst into laughter, even Sebastian himself couldn't hold back.

Deep down, everyone dispersed and returned to their rooms.

Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

A slight noise came from the next room; it was Cassandra packing her things.

Further away, you could hear Ron and Hermione whispering.

Downstairs, Ruby was still busy in the Kitchen, preparing ingredients for tomorrow.

He smiled slightly, closed his eyes, and quickly fell asleep.