"Huh? It's all me?"
"You rotten old bastard, you're the one to blame for all of this!"
Harry was both annoyed and calm now. "Then can I go to the moon? I mean, go there on a date."
"We can't. That all depends on Muggle technology." Dumbledore shook his head. "A Portkey sent to the moon would also be too far away to work."
"We'd originally planned to account for that by setting up multiple relay points—launching a teleportation platform at intervals along the rocket's trajectory."
"But Connolly thought the cost was too high and vetoed the proposal."
"Foolish Fudge! He's always holding us back!" Hagrid voiced what everyone present was thinking.
Once it was clear that the Wizarding World's supposed moon landings were all rumors and lies,
even Ron could understand how important it was to have a stable route to the moon that witches and wizards could use whenever they wanted.
"Would it be feasible to get the Muggle government to restart the moon landing program?" Harry asked.
For Moon Demon Spell Blue at his full strength, Phase Shift Magic came as easily as Apparition.
For Harry, it was a Great Ritual he'd have to practice every day without fail, and might only succeed at after three years.
No wonder the deadline for finding the Hufflepuff Cup was so generous, allowing four whole school years.
"It's only theoretically possible." Dumbledore sighed. "Given your achievements in the Muggle World, you might understand this even better than I do."
"Why?"
Unlike Harry, who'd understood immediately and was quickly turning into a boy with a fake smile, Ron pressed for an answer.
"It's an extremely complicated matter." Dumbledore hadn't meant to say any more.
But when he saw the eager looks on Hermione and the others' faces, he continued.
"Our successful theft of the Hogwarts Express was possible because, in that era, the Muggle government was frantically building railways everywhere."
"Railway stock mania swept the country. The Ministry of Magic chose a very clever moment to steal a train—the railway companies were busy expanding, lacked a unified system for registering assets, and their regional operations left gaps in overall oversight."
"The disappearance of a small amount of equipment wouldn't easily attract attention."
"But even so, the Ministry of Magic used 167 Obliviates and the largest-scale Concealment Charm in history."
"The Ministry of Magic today couldn't do it."
"Of course. That idiot Fudge," Hagrid muttered.
"Besides," Dumbledore continued, "the Muggle World has gone through two wars in the truest sense of the word, and its technology, intelligence services, and state machinery are now highly integrated."
"Going to the moon requires cutting-edge technology and astronomical funding, and it would attract the world's attention."
"Restarting a crewed moon landing program after succeeding once would cause a huge upheaval—intelligence agencies investigating in full force, governments growing suspicious and confronting one another, panic selling on the stock market..."
"Perhaps the impact would be greater than Tom's resurrection."
"And all of it would be exposed to the International Confederation of Wizards."
Regret filled the bright blue eyes behind Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles.
Perhaps, at that moment, he finally regretted not becoming Minister for Magic.
A wizard's magic made it easier for them than for Muggles to survive in space and establish settlements.
Perhaps this meant the dawn of the space age.
And yet Fudge's foolish actions had delayed it.
"Is there really no way?" Ron asked, unwilling to give up.
Even Lucius Malfoy gazed at Dumbledore with pleading eyes. He understood the value of what lay ahead even better; it was the equivalent of the New World—the Americas—back in the day.
Dumbledore sighed. "It would require extensive magical involvement. Undetectable Extension Charms to expand the space and reduce the load, Goblin Silver to reinforce the structures, and several skilled alchemists working together."
"This isn't something a single Ministry of Magic could manage. Perhaps..."
His eyes suddenly lit up. "Perhaps there is someone. He has enough prestige, enough wealth, and enough skill in alchemy..."
"Nicolas Flamel!" Lucius Malfoy immediately thought of him. "I heard... he's living in seclusion in Devon now! He's your friend!"
The Philosopher's Stone, which could grant immortality and turn stone into gold, and its creator, Nicolas Flamel, had never been forgotten.
"Ah, my family lives in Devon too," Ron said in surprise.
"But... he's already decided to take part in an adventure." Dumbledore sounded hesitant, but his face showed barely restrained excitement.
And rightly so. What adventure could compare to the boundless universe and its starry skies?
Especially when he'd just discovered they were so close to him!
"Harry, are you sure you want to have your date at the Space Hall?" Dumbledore suddenly asked.
[ Ding ding ding! Quest [Retirement Rejection of a Six-Dynasty Veteran] triggered ] [ The great Savior is about to be crowned, and the [Six-Dynasty Veteran] wants to retire with his wife. How can this be tolerated? Who knows whether he harbors ambitions like Sima Yi? Reject his retirement papers and let him continue to shine for you ] [Complete: 100 experience points, Gold Magic Knowledge 1, Gold Talent Entry 1]
He's already dead, and you're still bringing up Sima Yi.
You beastly Dogskin Book!
Wait... a double golden egg!
Harry immediately changed his tune. "Perhaps... Devonshire. I'll leave it up to you."
"Harry, you're—" "Why are you shouting so loudly?" Ron was just about to scream when Draco cut him off.
"Very well. But it may not be this Friday anymore," Dumbledore said. "Nick will be very eager to meet you."
His confidence was almost spilling out of his words.
A host to the power of Death, and a vessel for an unprecedented, extraordinary kind of magic—even Nicolas Flamel, a man who'd lived for over six hundred years, would surely take notice.
Dumbledore's guess was right.
That afternoon, Harry received a letter in the Great Hall.
Hedwig had brought it. She was leaning against Harry's arm, pecking at the dried meat on his plate.
"Could this be..."
Ron was even more excited than Harry. His face had turned so red it was hard to see his freckles.
"Shut up!" Draco hissed, though he wasn't much better than Ron; his eyes kept blinking uncontrollably.
Harry unfolded the letter.
[Dear Harry:]
[He replied faster than I expected. Please come to my office with Miss Gemma Farley at seven o'clock tonight.]
[Your faithful]
[Albus Dumbledore]
[P.S. I like Cockroach Cluster.]
"He likes... Cockroach Cluster?"
Ron was leaning over the table, nearly elbowing Hedwig, and looked utterly confused.
"It must be a password!" Hermione whispered sharply, narrowing her eyes. "That's not fair. This doesn't even count as a date anymore. Why should she—"
Draco cut her off. "So everyone else will think Harry's just going on a date."
"Cockroach Cluster... What if there are actual cockroaches in it... Ugh!" Ron looked as if he might throw up. "That's more disgusting than Percy and Peter Pettigrew kissing."
Malice flashed in Draco's pale gray eyes. "Weasley, how can you be sure you haven't? He slept on your pillow too."
"What are you talking about?" Percy said, his face ashen. "Did I hear you say 'pillow'?"
Even now, he hadn't forgotten the days he'd spent sharing a bed with Peter Pettigrew.
Because of Harry, his pursuit of personal magical prowess—and his supposed lack of interest in Penelope—was really just a cover.
Now that Scabbers' true identity had been exposed, he'd completely lost his eligibility to date anyone at school.
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