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Chapter 362: The Newly Arrived Ghost
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 14:08:20 +0000 UTCEighth Floor, Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts Castle
"Albus… what should I do?" Professor McGonagall's voice trembled. "I was the one who took her and her parents to Diagon Alley. I was there when she bought her wand…"
"And now I have to tell them their daughter died at Hogwarts…"
Unlike before, when she had been holding back her emotions, the moment she stepped into the office, the tears came uncontrollably.
She had been the one to introduce Hermione to the wizarding world—that bright-eyed girl with chestnut hair and two front teeth that made her smile resemble a rabbit's.
That innocent, radiant smile still lingered in her mind—but now it overlapped with the image of the same girl lying cold and lifeless in the hospital wing.
"Albus…" McGonagall choked on her sobs.
At that moment, a voice came from one of the portraits on the wall.
"Dumbledore, you have visitors—delegates from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Shall I let them in?"
At the mention of foreign guests, McGonagall quickly wiped her tears away and composed herself.
At the same time—
In the corridor outside the office, Karkaroff's voice was filled with disbelief. "So, if all three headmasters agree, the tournament can really be canceled?"
"I've told you already," Madame Maxime replied firmly. "The Goblet of Fire is merely an alchemical artifact. And when it comes to alchemical knowledge, no school surpasses Beauxbatons."
She had already made up her mind: her school would not be participating any longer. To her, all of Hogwarts—and by extension, all of Britain—felt unsafe now.
Glory meant nothing if it came at the cost of her students' lives. She would return to Beauxbatons with them. But first, she needed to extinguish the Goblet's flame and sever the magical contract binding the champions.
She had expected resistance—perhaps even a drawn-out debate. But to her surprise, Karkaroff had agreed even more quickly than she had expected.
In fact, his eagerness almost seemed… desperate. Like a man looking for an excuse to flee.
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the castle—
In a quiet, secluded hospital room, silence hung heavy in the air.
The room, less than ten square meters in size, no longer held a hospital bed. In its place stood a coffin made of shimmering blue ice crystal.
Hermione lay within, her face peaceful and flushed as if only asleep.
But Ino knew the truth. This illusion of life was just the temporary effect of repeated healing spells—like a dying flower kept fresh in a vase.
Seated beside the coffin, Ino felt a deep sadness settle in his chest. Perhaps he never should have interfered in someone else's story.
He should have insisted on being sorted into Hufflepuff. He should have kept to himself, been a quiet observer for five years, and transferred to Beauxbatons later. Maybe then… everything would have turned out differently.
But then he remembered how the story had ended. Maybe—just maybe—Hogwarts had never been a fairytale, not even in their first year.
Still seated beside the frozen coffin, Ino's heart was heavy with regret—but not with despair. Not yet.
He knew of two possible ways to bring someone back to life. One involved the Icebloom; the other, the tower-bound resurrection magic from the Grimm Brothers' tales.
That was why he'd frozen her body immediately—preserving it, buying time.
Yet both methods shared the same fatal flaw: they were subject to the ancient sanctuary's binding laws. Anything gained through them would be tethered to that place—any damage, any loss, would ripple across everything connected.
Just then, a calm voice broke the silence.
"Tell me what happened."
It was Severus Snape.
Unlike the other professors who had long since left, Snape had remained quietly in the room. After delivering a potion, he hadn't spoken a word for hours.
Now, his sudden question caught Ino off guard.
Snape wasn't one to speak without reason. If he was asking now, he must have realized something.
Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon began its ascent. Day yielded to night in a quiet, eternal cycle.
Inside the hospital wing, Snape listened as Ino recounted every detail.
Once the tale was done, Snape fell silent. He sat alone, unmoving.
Time passed—minutes or hours, it was hard to tell.
Then, without a word, Snape stood and left the room.
Ino barely reacted. He'd already been reminded that there was something unusual about the ambush—but for now, his priority was preparing the resurrection. There would be time to settle accounts later.
With Snape gone, Ino remained the only living soul in the room.
Meanwhile, the Headmaster's office was now bustling with people.
In addition to the two visiting headmistresses, Minister Fudge and Ludo Bagman from the Department of Magical Games and Sports had also arrived.
Fudge was there to handle the fallout from a student's death, and Bagman was representing the Ministry in discussions to extinguish the Goblet of Fire.
"This cannot go unaccounted for," Fudge declared, his tone stern. "Someone must take responsibility."
"The culprit was a fourth-year student—Vincent Crabbe," McGonagall said, stepping in. "But by the time we arrived, he was already dead."
"I see…" Fudge replied cautiously. "And what course of action do you propose?"
In truth, Fudge already had a good idea of what had happened—his channels in the Ministry had filled him in.
And the more he knew, the less he wanted to get involved. Still, the Ministry couldn't be seen doing nothing.
The best outcome, he thought, would be to let Hogwarts handle things internally. That way, if blame fell anywhere, he could position himself as a neutral party—simply executing their decision.
Unfortunately, McGonagall didn't seem to pick up on his subtext. Instead, when asked about consequences, she answered clearly:
"Someone must have taught Crabbe the Unforgivable Curses—the Imperius and the Killing Curse. That cannot be ignored. As for Ino…"
She let out a soft sigh.
"…As for Ino, I leave it to you. I trust the Ministry and the Wizengamot will give him a fair and just trial."
"No—please," Fudge quickly interjected. "Mr. Swinburne is still a student. Both the Ministry and the Wizengamot must take Hogwarts' stance into full consideration…"
As the debate continued, Bagman formally agreed—on behalf of the British Ministry—to cancel the Triwizard Tournament and extinguish the Goblet of Fire, as requested by the two foreign headmasters.
Throughout it all, Dumbledore remained silent, sitting quietly at his desk, lost in thought as he stared at a portrait across the room.
Sunset marked the beginning of night; sunrise would mark the start of a new day.
Time moved forward.
As the castle passed through another shift of sun and moon, a new dawn broke over Hogwarts.
The first rays of morning light touched the tallest spire of the Astronomy Tower. A pulse of strange magical energy rippled through the castle—as if the stones themselves were stirring to life.
In the hospital wing, after a night spent in quiet vigil, Ino finally opened his eyes.
Floating in front of him was a silver ghost.
The spirit drifted playfully through the room—sometimes hovering over the icy coffin, other times pausing to inspect the blooming hyacinths on the windowsill.
"Hermione…"
Ino spoke her name softly.
The ghost turned to face him. It was her.
Hermione Granger—now a ghost—had returned.
