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Chapter 345: A Gift to Give
🕑 Added 2025-04-12 18:39:19 +0000 UTCEighth Floor Corridor, Hogwarts Castle
"I've heard your singing," said the Fat Lady, the guardian of Gryffindor Tower, her tone slightly melancholic. "They say your voice carries deep emotion. I used to be able to do that, too. But now… I'm just a painting."
"You're overthinking it," Ino replied gently. "Emotion comes from memory. If you can recall something that once moved you, then sing. Let the memory guide your voice. Let it speak through your song."
Ino was standing in the corridor outside the Gryffindor common room, engaged in an unusual but heartfelt conversation about singing techniques with the Fat Lady. Despite having been at Hogwarts for nearly four years, there were still many places he hadn't explored. The Fat Lady's portrait was one, the kitchens another, and the bronze eagle knocker guarding Ravenclaw Tower was also on that list.
His first year, he had been cautious and reserved. In the years that followed, it wasn't fear that held him back, just the gradual dulling of novelty.
It's inevitable, he thought. The longer you stay in one place, the more the initial wonder fades.
Outside the Gryffindor Common Room.
Their conversation lasted only a few minutes when Ino suddenly felt a faint magical ripple. A moment later, the nearly nine-inch-high portrait of the Fat Lady quietly swung open from behind.
"Ino!" Hermione's delighted voice rang out as she stepped into view. "Why didn't you tell me with the mirror first? I could've come to you—you hate climbing all those stairs!"
"It's nothing," Ino said with a smile. "Besides, I can't always make you come to me."
Hermione blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the double meaning in his words. She looked at him—really looked at him.
He was still in his usual modest robes, but something about him felt different today. Then again, maybe it wasn't him. Hermione had taken the time to apply a light touch of makeup—barely noticeable unless you were paying close attention. A subtle pink gloss on her lips, and her eyes lined delicately to make them appear slightly longer. The effect was youthful, radiant.
The only flaw—if it could be called that—was a small smudge of gloss at the corner of her mouth, likely the result of rushing. But she hadn't noticed Ino's gaze lingering there. Or perhaps, in that moment, she was more focused on his words.
"Can't always make you come to me."
Her mind wandered, tracing back through the years. From that summer before she started Hogwarts, to now. So many moments etched into her memory.
Though they were in different Houses and rarely crossed paths, every meeting had left her smiling.
She remembered her early days at Hogwarts, two months into her first year, feeling isolated and rejected for reasons she didn't understand—ostracized like a lioness cast out from the pride.
All she'd wanted was to go home. Back to her parents in London.
Then, in a quiet corridor just outside the library, she met him again.
Ino had offered her kindness—gentle, unforced encouragement. And for the first time, in that cold and massive castle, she had felt a flicker of warmth.
Maybe that was the moment a seed was planted.
Even though everything changed afterward—Gryffindor welcomed her, and she made friends like Ginny and Parvati—that seed had never stopped growing.
And now… it was blooming.
"You're spacing out again," Ino teased lightly, his voice pulling her back to the present. "Didn't you break that habit in third year?"
"I wasn't spacing out!" Hermione huffed, stomping her foot in mock annoyance. "I don't do that. I never did!"
But her face betrayed her, a soft smile curving her lips.
Then, her eyes shifted slightly—catching movement from the corner of the hallway—and her expression changed.
"Come on," she said, changing the subject. "Let's go to the Astronomy Tower. If we stay here any longer, we'll have an audience."
"Alright, let's go," Ino nodded.
He'd noticed the peeking heads around the corridor corner a while ago. He hadn't come here trying to hide anything. In fact, he wanted people to see them.
Thanks to his roommate, the editor of the school magazine, he was aware of some of the whispers going around. This little public display was intentional.
Better to attract the attention himself than let Hermione be the target of idle gossip.
A Long Corridor, Two Figures Walking Side by Side
As they turned a corner, snowflakes began to drift down outside once more.
It was late December in the Scottish Highlands. Snowfall was as certain as magic itself.
"Maybe we don't have to go to the Astronomy Tower," Ino suggested, looking out the frosted window. "We could skate on the Black Lake instead."
Hermione nodded softly. "Anywhere's fine."
To her, it didn't matter where they went.
Outside the Castle.
Snow blanketed the ancient grounds of Hogwarts, transforming the landscape into a winter wonderland.
The Black Lake, once dark and still, was now glazed with ice and dusted with fresh snow—pristine and untouched.
Down by the dock, where first-years had once arrived in boats, several small vessels now lay moored.
"Want to row for a bit?" Ino asked, looking at the boats. The idea came to him on a whim.
Under a subtle charm, the boat slid silently across the frozen surface, cutting ripples into the thin layer of ice.
It was strange—when everything was so still, it was hard to sense how quickly they were moving.
In less than thirty minutes, they had glided to the middle of the lake.
Behind them, Hogwarts loomed, majestic and ethereal beneath the drifting snow. Towering spires and pointed rooftops reached into the sky like the peaks of a fairytale kingdom.
Sitting quietly in the boat, the two of them simply watched the world around them, content in the silence.
Until—
"Achoo!"
A soft sneeze broke the quiet.
"Sorry!" Hermione said quickly, a bit embarrassed.
"No, it's my fault," Ino said, instantly alert. "I should've thought this through."
With the legacy of frost magic running through his veins, he barely felt the cold anymore. But Hermione wasn't the same. Even with a wizard's resilience, boating on a snowy lake was hardly warm.
"I'm fine—watch this," Hermione said, raising her wand. "Impervius!"
A faint glow shimmered at the tip as she cast the charm. The falling snowflakes now curved away from their boat, repelled by an invisible barrier.
"Impressive," Ino said. "But I think you'll like this even more."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small gift box—four inches square, wrapped in midnight-blue velvet.
"A Christmas gift?" Hermione asked, accepting it with a mix of surprise and anticipation, her fingers brushing across the soft velvet.
"Sort of," Ino said with a mysterious smile. "But this one's special."
Hermione's curiosity flared.
Every Christmas, Ino's gifts had always caught her off guard with their thoughtfulness.
First year, a miniature crystal castle in a snow globe.
Second year, a self-writing quill enchanted to mimic her handwriting.
Third year, a miniature magical projector that played moving scenes from her favorite Muggle films.
So this year…
With growing excitement, she opened the box.
