Chapter 142: The Prophetic Fire of the Daily Prophet

In the Scottish Highlands, June.

A more passionate yet fleeting summer has begun.

These hot days, though long, burn like flags, vanishing in blazing flames.

And at night, the brief and humid moonlit nights, like dreams, shimmer with layers of light.

…

The last day before the summer break.

In the dusk, Hogwarts, illuminated by the evening glow, remains stunningly beautiful.

At the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Ino sits before a simple easel, focused on painting something.

As you get closer, you can see that the canvas depicts a colorful image of Hogwarts Castle.

Beside the easel lies a spider the size of a washbasin. Despite its large size, its long, light blue fur hides the horror of its jointed limbs, making it appear somewhat cute at first glance.

One might mistake it for a large plush toy at first sight.

With the final brushstroke, Ino gently sets down his paintbrush.

Unknowingly, the second school year has ended, and at this final moment, he feels an urge to leave something behind, or perhaps just to prove he existed.

"Why do you seem a bit sad?"

In the silent tower, a cool female voice breaks the silence.

"This isn't sadness, it's the melancholy of parting."

Ino sighs lightly, walking towards the edge of the tower and gently touching the weathered marble wall.

"You'll understand when you're older! From now on, some people will never return to this castle for the rest of their lives, and they'll never return to the dormitories that accompanied them for seven years."

Feeling a movement at his feet, Ino turns to see the blue eight-eyed giant spider suspended in mid-air by its silk. He says with a bit of helplessness:

"Lina, I've told you not to randomly spit silk. It would be troublesome if someone found out."

"What's the big deal? Besides, they're all afraid of you." The cool voice rings out again.

Suspended in mid-air, the washbasin-sized giant spider defies common sense by speaking.

You know, a speaking eight-eyed giant spider, without a doubt, is an adult spider, much like Aragog in the original story, a behemoth nearly five meters in diameter.

Perhaps miracles are called miracles because they can't be explained.

As for Lina, this blue eight-eyed giant spider that can speak, although her initial words startled him, he became accustomed to it soon after. After all, the sanctuary itself is a miracle.

But regarding the misunderstanding, Ino still corrects her:

"Lina, that's not fear; that's respect."

…

By the tower's edge, the last traces of the sunset disappear.

Hogwarts gradually becomes shrouded in darkness, and Ino looks down at the distant castle.

Everything that has happened over this time flashes before his eyes like a slideshow.

Since the day he covered the entire Quidditch pitch with frost four months ago, the attitudes of the other young wizards have quietly changed.

It wasn't as exaggerated as Lina said, but there was a barrier between them. Like students seeing a professor, though not afraid, their every word and action were filled with awe.

What further elevated this awe was the Daily Prophet and Colin's photo.

Every time he recalls that newspaper, Ino feels a sense of restlessness.

The front-page headline featured a wizard holding a wand towards the sky, with a backdrop of overwhelming flames.

Colin must have understood photography; the angle and lighting were perfect, and with the soaking of the developing potion, the whole photo, except for the lack of sound, looked like a short video with added filters.

Perhaps the Daily Prophet also invested a lot, as under such a perfect illustration, a detailed article emerged.

From fleeing the orphanage, two years of wandering, eating and sleeping in the open, sleeping under the bridges of the Thames, setting up a fortune-telling stall at the gate of a Muggle primary school to make a living.

Then entering Hogwarts, freezing Lockhart's Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, conjuring a forty-foot-long giant snake on the Quidditch training field, achieving full marks in all subjects in his first year, and finally registering as the eighth documented Animagus of this century.

Everything, meticulously detailed, completely exposing his experiences.

But the wording of the article was appropriate, the writing style gentle, and the tone polite and respectful.

This turned all his dissatisfaction into helplessness, for the Daily Prophet truly understood boundaries.

They said everything that needed to be said, and left out everything that shouldn't be mentioned, such as him selling gold coins at Gringotts, buying a house in Hogsmeade, even the address, not a word was mentioned.

Moreover, the entire article was filled with positive words: inspiring, diligent, despite a difficult start, never giving up. It perfectly shaped a tragic yet flawless image.

The Daily Prophet's sales increased, but since then, Ino often encountered young wizards in the castle holding newspapers.

For nothing else, just for an autograph! And all of them hoped he would sign below the front-page flame photo.

While he was lost in thought, Lina's cool voice echoed in the tower again:

"I felt a vibration, someone's coming up! I'll go back to the box first."

A blue light flashed in mid-air. Lina snapped the silk and accurately landed in the suitcase.

At the same time, as Lina entered, a figure appeared at the Astronomy Tower's entrance.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. I didn't expect you to be here at this hour. Are you here for some star-gazing and divination?"

Ino greeted, making a small joke.

"Good evening! Although I love divination, I know nothing about it."

Dumbledore slowly walked into the tower, seeing the easel, "A wonderful oil painting! It reminds me of a friend who also loved to paint."

"Ha ha ha, thank you for the compliment. I just started developing an interest in painting recently."

Ino walked to the easel, deftly untied the canvas, "If you like it, it's yours. You've helped me a lot, and I haven't given you a proper gift."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but think of the Undetectable Extension Charm on the suitcase, knowing that without Dumbledore's help to expand it, the mere double space would have been useless.

"I'll accept it, then. Not many give me paintings, they always think I prefer books." Dumbledore took the painting, his gaze unintentionally sweeping towards the suitcase.

"Ino! Do you need me to expand it further? It's not quite enough for some 'big friends' to live in."

"I knew I couldn't hide it from you." Ino smiled wryly, rubbing his forehead.

He had tried to avoid opening the suitcase where there were portraits, but still couldn't hide it from Dumbledore.

"That's normal. When you become the headmaster of Hogwarts someday, you'll find many secrets in the castle, but I can't tell you now."

Dumbledore smiled with a touch of pride, like a child showing off his toy.