Harry Potter's Hope

Because Ron and Zhang San had gone to Diagon Alley, Harry Potter was the only one left working his ass off at the temple.

The Weasley Twins were helping keep an eye on the underground arcade, so Harry only had to stand at the entrance selling incense and candles and handing out game tokens.

"Seriously, I'm starting to regret agreeing to work for you," Harry Potter complained as he looked at Zhang San.

Zhang San grinned broadly. "Harry, we're brothers from different fathers and different mothers. Don't be so quick to regret it. Helping me is helping yourself."

Harry Potter did not understand. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a ghost cultivator... or, as you call it, a ghost. Ghosts can accomplish many things that living people find difficult." Zhang San spoke in a coaxing tone.

Harry Potter still did not catch on and asked blankly, "Like what?"

"For instance, I can help you see your father and mother. Not the kind of illusion you saw in the Mirror of Erised, but the real, genuine article." Demonic temptation spilled from Zhang San's lips, leaving Harry Potter staring with wide, vacant eyes.

"But... they've been dead for years," Harry Potter said in disbelief.

Zhang San pointed at himself. "Harry, my brother, I, Third Zhang, was killed by Quirrell's Killing Curse on my very first day at Hogwarts. But aren't I still floating around right in front of you, lively as ever?"

"You're a ghost. Ghosts are special beings caught somewhere between life and death," Harry Potter argued.

"Have you ever seen a ghost at Hogwarts who was more rational than me, smarter than me, or more like a human than me? At most, they're just lingering impressions left in the mortal world, while I am a complete, intact soul," Zhang San said.

Afraid that Harry Potter would not believe him, Zhang San frantically lectured him on basic knowledge of souls. "A human soul is a complicated thing made up of three spiritual souls and seven corporeal souls. The souls of Hogwarts' ghosts are severely incomplete, which is why they seem mad, rigid, or especially obsessive."

Harry Potter nodded seriously, because what Zhang San described was indeed true.

"But all three of my spiritual souls and all seven of my corporeal souls are right here, completely intact. So other than lacking a physical body, I'm no different from a living person," Zhang San emphasized again.

This time, Harry Potter understood Zhang San somewhat. He had always regarded Zhang San as an ordinary ghost, but only now did he realize that this Eastern classmate was a special, hidden-edition ghost.

"How can you help me see my parents?" Harry Potter asked hopefully.

Zhang San pointed at the little temple behind him. "Do you know what the incense offerings in this temple are?"

Harry Potter shook his head.

Zhang San said, "They are a valuable universal currency. The wizarding world trades in gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts. Gods trade in incense offerings."

"So?" Harry Potter was still confused.

"There's an old saying in the East: money can reach the gods. The Galleons in the Potter Family vault at Gringotts can't bribe messengers of the underworld, but the power of the incense offerings in our little temple can." Like an old fox tempting a chick, Zhang San said:

"As long as we save up enough incense offerings, we can use money to daze the underworld's messengers and have them pull some unconventional strings to send your parents up here to see you."

"If we have enough incense power, it may even be possible to ransom your parents' souls back. Every soul is a precious treasure to the underworld, but as long as something has a price, we have a chance to buy it..."

Harry Potter's eyes lit up at those words, and his heart burned with excitement. The mysterious East was truly incredible. There was even a chance to bring back people who had died.

He firmly believed Zhang San's words—because Zhang San himself was a miracle of life. Harry Potter knew Zhang San was not the first student to die at Hogwarts. Moaning Myrtle, who occupied the bathroom and wailed all day long, was an old upperclassman who had been dead for decades.

But compared to Zhang San's rationality, Moaning Myrtle's ghost was like a lunatic with a mental illness. So the mysterious East's magic truly had something to it. It was not difficult to understand how that ancient land, whose civilization had endured uninterrupted for thousands of years, could flatten the boundary between life and death.

The main reason was that the outside world knew far too little about the East. For certain historical reasons, there were no longer any wizards or Ministry of Magic on the Old Chinese continent. Moreover, the Eastern cultivation world had not had any contact with the outside for decades.

Harry Potter suddenly felt that his work had a purpose. He did not lack Galleons. If he could exchange all his Galleons for incense power, Harry Potter would not hesitate to trade away his entire fortune.

Although Zhang San's little temple had only just opened, dangling promises before his subordinates was a required skill every boss ought to master.

Ron's family was poor, so Zhang San gave him Galleons. Harry had no family, so Zhang San gave him the hope of seeing his parents again. As long as he found the main issue, why would he fear that Harry and Ron would not work themselves to the bone?

Of course, Zhang San was not merely making empty promises. Once he had accumulated enough incense power, he truly was willing to arrange a private deal with the local messengers of the underworld.

A powerful dragon could not suppress a local snake. Building good relations with the local gods could only bring benefits. There was no shame in asking others for help. As long as you could offer them something worthwhile, after a few private dealings, the relationship between both sides would naturally grow closer.

The sun soon set, and Zhang San and Harry began counting money in the front hall. Most of the coins they had received were silver Sickles; it was rare to see students spending Galleons.

It was such a pity that that rich kid Ma was in the hospital. Otherwise, he definitely would have contributed quite a bit of incense money today.

Sigh... people could not be too greedy. They had already gotten nearly a hundred Galleons out of Young Master Ma. They truly could not ask for more.

"By the way, Third, I heard Malfoy wrote to his family asking to transfer to Durmstrang," Harry Potter said quietly.

Zhang San raised an eyebrow. "Huh? That guy wants to run?"

He could not be allowed to run. Without Malfoy, that filthy rich cash cow, who would pay for Zhang San's food and expenses? This was a big spender who used Galleons to buy game tokens. Zhang San was far too reluctant to let him go.

Harry Potter asked softly, "Old Malfoy isn't going to come to school and cause trouble for us, is he? I heard Malfoy's father is a school governor."

Zhang San sneered. "A school governor is nothing. Old Malfoy's position is just something he bought with money to polish his reputation. Do you think Headmaster Dumbledore listens to the board of governors?"

"Besides, this was a fair wizard's duel. I didn't take Draco Malfoy's life and leave old Lucius Malfoy without an heir. That old bastard should be bowing to thank me," Zhang San said righteously.

Magic had no eyes, and once someone stepped onto a dueling platform, life and death were left to fate. If Lucius really came to Hogwarts to make trouble for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, then the Malfoy Family would no longer be able to show its face in the wizarding world.

If a family could not even accept the outcome of a sacred wizard's duel, what right did it have to call itself one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight? Compared with the Malfoy Family's centuries-old reputation, the slight grievance Draco had suffered was nothing at all.

So there was a very high chance that Draco would transfer schools. The mental pressure of seeing Hermione Granger in class every day was truly suffocating for Malfoy.

With a profound gaze, Zhang San looked toward the horizon and said faintly, "Now all we can do is wish our dear brother Malfoy a safe journey. I hope his little body can withstand the torment of the German students. I hear German boys especially like his type."

Harry shuddered in disgust. "May Malfoy be safe!"