Dark_Peace
patreon
Chapter 334: Ino’s Backup Plan – The Worst-Case Scenario
🕑 Added 2025-03-28 18:50:48 +0000 UTCAs Ino stepped into the hospital wing, he ignored Harry and went straight toward Snape.
There was no particular reason—only that the professor’s current state seemed rather unstable.
Snape stood alone in the corner, seemingly calm, but his eyes no longer held the usual emptiness and cold indifference. Instead, they were filled with complex emotions.
"Professor, are you alright?"
The sudden voice shattered the silence in the room. Snape flinched slightly but did not immediately respond. Instead, he closed his eyes.
A long moment passed.
"I'm fine," he finally said, his voice calm and composed. "I suppose congratulations are in order—you achieved a perfect score."
Ino chuckled softly. "It was just a game. Not worth mentioning."
His gaze briefly flickered to Harry before he turned back to Snape.
"There are things that don't matter, and then there are things that shouldn't be overemphasized. Magic creates miracles—there’s always a solution."
He thought back to the kindness Snape had shown him after he entered Hogwarts—the extra potion lessons, the invaluable notes of the Half-Blood Prince. They had helped him immensely.
Especially Sectumsempra—even now, the spell remained one of his most effective tools.
Some debts had to be repaid.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Ino said seriously, "Professor, trust me—there’s no problem that can’t be solved."
A thought crossed his mind. A worst-case scenario, but also the perfect solution.
Kill Harry.
Then use the Iceflower to bring him back.
The revival would place him under the Sanctuary’s protection—better that than being tied to Voldemort’s fate. It would free him from the looming threat of being consumed by the Dark Lord’s fragment within him.
To be honest, Ino was well aware that this story was called Harry Potter. By all rights, Harry was supposed to be the protagonist.
But in reality, the story had never truly been about him.
What could a child barely past ten years old really accomplish? He wasn't some reincarnated sage. Even by the end of the series, Harry was only seventeen.
And yet, for some reason, everything—every event, every person—revolved around him.
Dumbledore wanted to defeat Voldemort but also insisted on protecting Harry, which made him hesitant and restrained.
Voldemort was even stranger. After his resurrection, it was as if he had been cursed—obsessed with Harry to an absurd degree. He had ample opportunities to crush his enemies but instead insisted on engaging in one-on-one duels like some kind of noble knight.
And Snape—Snape was the most straightforward of them all. Whoever could save Harry, he would obey.
Since everyone revolved around Harry, Ino had thought of the simplest solution: Cut the Gordian knot.
If Harry was the root of all this conflict, removing him from the equation would solve everything.
Hearing Ino's words—"Magic creates miracles; there’s always a solution"—Snape visibly relaxed.
Not because of the words themselves, but because they reminded him of something: the Wolfsbane Potion.
For centuries, the werewolf condition had plagued wizards, and yet, in the end, it was a potion that provided an answer.
With that thought, Snape’s expression steadied further.
"Yes. You're right," he murmured. "There is always a solution."
Whether he was responding to Ino or reassuring himself, even he wasn’t sure.
Seeing that Snape had calmed, Ino said nothing more.
As things stood, the Goblet of Fire tournament had become a chaotic mess, and even Ino had no clear idea how the story would unfold.
He could only take things one step at a time.
Just then, the door to the hospital wing swung open.
"Now this is how you visit a patient," said Madam Pomfrey as she entered, carrying a tray of potions. "Harry needs rest, not conversation."
She spotted Ino and Snape standing quietly aside and gave them an approving nod.
"Drink this," she said, handing Harry a vial of murky liquid. "I added a sleeping draught. Just drink it, stop thinking, and focus on healing."
Harry took the potion without hesitation.
In the past, he would have found the sight of such an unappetizing potion revolting. But now, he drank it in one gulp without complaint.
Bitterness and a hint of something sour filled his mouth, but oddly, the taste didn’t bother him as much as he expected. There was even something almost… familiar about it.
Under the potion’s effects, Harry’s breathing soon evened out as he drifted into sleep.
Ino watched him for a long moment, a trace of melancholy in his expression.
By title, Harry was the protagonist. Everyone seemed to act for his sake. But in truth, whether it was glory or suffering, he had always been forced to endure.
From birth, it had always been this way.
"If only he didn't have that scar… if only he wasn’t so famous…"
Ino sighed softly and turned his gaze toward the window.
Outside, the Whomping Willow swayed slightly in the winter breeze.
In the distance, the Quidditch pitch was alive with energy—cheers and laughter echoed across the grounds.
A thought struck him.
He turned back toward Harry and stared at the lightning-shaped scar.
Then, in the next instant, he vanished from his spot.
When he reappeared, he was holding an ancient-looking bronze oil lamp.
A realization had come to him.
Horcruxes were magical objects. Unusual, yes—but still, fundamentally, created magical objects.
And if they were created… then they could be unraveled.
After all, the oil lamp was capable of revealing even Time-Turners—it stood to reason that it could expose the nature of a Horcrux as well.
Holding onto that hope, Ino approached the sleeping Harry, Snape watching him with a rare flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
Meanwhile…
At the Triwizard Tournament, the first task was coming to an end.
Krum dodged one last time as the magical hourglass overhead ran dry.
After a brief discussion, the five judges finalized their scores.
Perhaps due to his experience as a professional Seeker, Krum’s agility had impressed them—his final score was 45, a full seven points higher than Fleur’s.
As applause and cheers erupted, the first task officially concluded.
There was no need for announcements. Students on the stands began filing out in an orderly manner, eager to discuss the day’s events.
For most, it was over.
But in the VIP section, the real game was just beginning.
"That will do," said Barty Crouch Sr., standing up and adjusting his tie. "It’s time for me to take Harry Potter."
At his words, Professor McGonagall immediately stepped forward, her voice firm and unyielding.
"My student needs rest," she declared. "He’s injured. No one is taking him anywhere."
Crouch didn’t argue with her. Instead, he turned to Dumbledore, waiting for an answer.
After all, Dumbledore had made a promise—one witnessed by the other two headmasters.
And on the sidelines, Ludo Bagman, for once, remained silent.
He wasn’t in charge of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but as a high-ranking Ministry official, he couldn't ignore certain things—especially not in public.
...
Sorry for the late update, everyone. I was busy with exams, but I'll do my best to update regularly from now on.
