Upon suddenly hearing Dumbledore's name, Ino found himself at a loss for how to respond.
To be honest, given the current situation, he had no idea what Dumbledore was thinking.
But one thing seemed certain—the old Headmaster had likely miscalculated.
Before the entire student body of Hogwarts, as well as guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, he had openly cast an Unforgivable Curse.
This was no small matter—not for England, not for Hogwarts, and certainly not for Harry himself.
Public opinion was a double-edged sword; it could elevate someone to the heights of legend just as easily as it could drag them down into an abyss.
In response to Hermione's question.
After a brief moment of thought, Ino decided to reassure her. He advised,
"Professor Dumbledore is aware of the situation. I'm sure he has a solution. This isn't something we can interfere with, but in the meantime, keep a feather from Brighid on you. Don't hesitate to use it if necessary."
Hearing this, Hermione seemed to relax a little. However, when she heard mention of Brighid's feather, she froze slightly before nodding,
"Alright! I'll carry it with me at all times."
Ino didn't miss that brief moment of hesitation.
"Phoenix feathers are just consumables. They're not particularly—"
Before he could finish, they both instinctively paused.
At the far end of the corridor, a crowd of students appeared.
Ron, Neville, Seamus, Colin, George, Fred… A large group, all seemingly here to visit Harry.
Faced with so many familiar faces, Hermione instinctively tried to let go of the hand she was holding. But at that moment, she realized that the grip on her hand had tightened.
Second Floor Corridor, Hogwarts Castle.
The corridor was long and open, with no obstacles in sight.
Because of this, the approaching Gryffindor students quickly noticed something unusual.
"Ohhh~" George was the first to react, exclaiming in an exaggerated tone. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Fred's hand, mimicking the gesture.
The twins seemed to share the same thought.
Fred, without hesitation, played along. Walking ahead of the group, they dramatically raised their joined hands, swinging them back and forth as if making an announcement.
Hermione, who had been confident and composed throughout their conversation and even while holding hands, suddenly found herself flushing under their antics. She lowered her head, embarrassed.
"Hello, everyone."
Unlike Hermione, Ino remained composed, greeting the group naturally. After all, this wasn't anything shameful.
"Ginny is inside," he added. "But I'd recommend going in small groups, or else Madam Pomfrey might throw you all out."
As soon as he finished speaking, Fred immediately picked up the conversation, "Then let little Ron and his friends go in first. Meanwhile, I just remembered something…"
Before he could continue, George raised his right hand, waving it theatrically,
"You lot need a specially crafted straw ring~!"
While the twins kept up their playful banter, Colin stood quietly to the side.
He neither followed Ron and the others into the hospital wing nor approached Ino and Hermione like the Weasley twins had.
By the edge of the corridor.
Colin glanced down at the camera hanging around his neck before sneaking a look at Ino and Hermione's joined hands.
For a while, he hesitated. Then, after George and Fred had finished speaking, he finally gathered the courage to step forward.
"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Swinburne," Colin said hesitantly. "May I take a picture of you?"
Colin had learned a thing or two about journalism since interacting with The Daily Prophet.
He now understood that, outside of certain public events, it was customary to seek permission before taking someone's photo. It wasn't like before, when he would simply snap away with his camera in the castle without a second thought.
Hearing the request, Ino pondered for a moment before nodding with a smile.
"Of course! Anything for the castle's most professional journalist."
It was a small joke, but it put Colin at ease.
As Ino stood still, watching Colin adjust his camera, he felt a sense of appreciation for the boy.
So many had fallen by the end of the war—Fred, Moody, Sirius…
But few remembered that among the names of the fallen was a Muggle-born wizard who had barely turned fifteen—Colin Creevey.
Perhaps the only person who truly remembered him was his younger brother, Dennis.
Click.
The camera shutter snapped shut, capturing the moment.
Colin grinned with excitement.
"Thank you for your generosity! But… some of these photos—I might send them to The Daily Prophet…"
His voice trailed off slightly, as if seeking permission.
"That's up to you. There's nothing here that needs to be hidden."
As he spoke, Ino glanced at Hermione—a silent request for her opinion.
Hermione, ever composed, gave a reserved nod. Her expression was poised and elegant, her movements graceful.
But the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips was impossible to suppress.
Time slipped away quietly.
After Colin finished taking photos, Ino exchanged a few more words with George and Fred before he and Hermione left the second-floor corridor together.
Like Cedric and Cho before them, they parted ways at the stairwell landing.
After all, their common rooms were in opposite directions—one in the eighth-floor tower, the other deep in the dungeons.
Slytherin Dormitory.
As soon as he closed the door behind him, Ino disappeared.
He reappeared in the sanctuary valley, immediately searching for Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem.
Placing the elegant and noble diadem upon his head, that familiar cool sensation washed over him once more.
It was like standing in a clear, flowing stream on a scorching summer day, washing away all distractions, filling him with calm and clarity.
In this state, memories flooded his mind.
From the summer before his third year, he replayed everything from a detached, third-person perspective, examining each frame in meticulous detail.
Not just his own past, but also scenes buried deep in his memory—scenes from the original story.
In this heightened state of focus, time ceased to exist.
He didn't know how long had passed before he finally removed the diadem, exhaling a tired breath.
The last image lingering in his mind was the night of the Goblet of Fire's ignition. The frail, pale face of Barty Crouch Sr., unsteady and weak.
Of course, this wasn't about him being replaced yet.
Rather, with the diadem's help, Ino had recalled someone who had only briefly appeared in the original story yet played a crucial role—Barty Crouch Jr.
Barty Crouch Jr. was an anomaly, a character who existed outside the typical flow of events.
Unlike others—Sirius, Lupin, or even Snape—whose actions could be influenced by the changes in Hogwarts' timeline, Crouch Jr. remained a constant.
His escape had always hinged on the same event: during the preparations for the Quidditch World Cup, when his father was too busy to notice.
With the help of Winky, the house-elf, he had managed to break free of the Imperius Curse and escape.
This meant one thing—no matter how much Hogwarts' history changed, Barty Crouch Jr.'s escape was inevitable.
The time would come, and he would break free.