Chapter 93: The Bloodline of the Charn Royalty

Although he had never witnessed Los Angeles at four in the morning,

Ino could describe Hogwarts at six in the morning.

At six, the castle was still shrouded in deep blue and black, with stars yet to fully fade, twinkling faintly.

The castle had not fully awakened; only a few early-rising portraits rubbed their sleepy eyes in their frames.

The entire corridor was eerily quiet.

Of course, this wasn't absolute. Occasionally, faint whispers could be heard from distant classrooms, or the slight movements of magical creatures in some corners.

A gentle breeze blew past, carrying the faint scent of foliage from the Forbidden Forest and a hint of magical essence.

...

Eighth floor of the castle.

Standing in front of the tapestry of the Room of Requirement.

"I need to enter Old John's town, I need to enter Old John's town..."

To test his hypothesis, Ino focused intently on repeating this in his mind while walking back and forth along the wall.

Moments later, when a smooth door appeared on the wall, he pushed it open without hesitation.

What met his eyes was a dim gray space.

No familiar buildings, no town square, not even sky or ground. If not for the solid feeling under his feet, he would have thought he was in a void.

He pushed the door and left.

Once again standing before the tapestry.

"I need to enter a snowy land, I need to enter a snowy land..."

This time, the Room of Requirement did not disappoint him.

Looking at the vast white expanse, Ino felt a surge of comfort.

He took a deep breath, and the cold air filled his lungs, bringing a refreshing clarity that was invigorating.

This feeling seemed to penetrate his body, reaching deep into his heart. It was an indescribable comfort and peace.

The snow beneath his feet crunched with each step, leaving deep footprints.

At this moment, he felt as if he had merged with the snowy landscape.

A profound sense of freedom and relaxation from within.

All worries and pressures seemed to melt away in this pure snowfield, even his mind achieved an unprecedented calm.

Bending down, he scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it into the air. The snowflakes turned into Billywig insects as they fell.

No wand, no incantation.

But he knew this wasn't wandless, wordless Transfiguration. It was simply control over ice and snow.

It was like an innate talent in his blood, just as fish are naturally suited to water, and birds to flying. He was naturally suited to ice and frost.

...

With no specific purpose or demands, he wandered alone in the snow.

Time passed slowly.

After a while, Ino fell backward as if to lie down and rest in the snow.

However, just three feet from the ground, a high-backed chair made of ice rose swiftly, catching him securely.

"Guess I don't need to buy furniture!"

With a light laugh, Ino leaned back in the chair, one hand supporting his chin, the other gently tapping the icy armrest.

After a brief relaxation, he began to ponder his recent experience.

Clearly, the Room of Requirement couldn't manifest scenes from fantasy stories.

Earlier, to avoid some unknown troubles, he had deliberately chosen small, self-contained stories and scenes.

Yet, even so, the Room of Requirement failed to realize them.

This inevitably led him to ponder whether stories and reality were two parallel lines that never intersect.

Or if it was like the "Tale of the Three Brothers," where everything was just a dream.

...

"I can't think about this anymore..."

He murmured softly, spreading his hands.

Quickly, a handful of snow appeared in his hands, which he then rubbed on his face as if washing in the lavatory.

Because he felt he must have gone mad just now.

In the magical world, in the Room of Requirement, he dared to ponder philosophy, to think about reality and the denial of existence.

This was probably just too much leisure, seeking pure excitement.

Time passed slowly.

Ino sat quietly in the high-backed chair, remnants of fine snow still clinging to his cheeks.

"I need to go back and water the plants!"

It was as if he gave himself a reason to leave, then stood up decisively and walked towards the door.

He had gained enough from this visit, not only seeing the Room of Requirement but also quietly verifying his inner thoughts.

Moreover, the recent near-spiritual cleansing had elevated his control over ice and snow to a new level, seemingly allowing him to cast ice and snow magic without a wand.

Having reaped these benefits, staying any longer would be greed.

Of course, this was just an apparent reason. Deep down, he had already developed a faint fear of the Room of Requirement.

He felt that staying there longer would compel him to think, and thinking was often dangerous.

Especially in a place where wishes come true and needs are met, thinking was the most dangerous of dangers.

...

Eighth floor corridor.

The young wizards of the castle knew that the moving staircases were often the most unpredictable existence.

Because a single misstep could not only waste time but also lead astray.

"Why not make an ice slide..."

It's easier to go up than down. Standing at the staircase's edge, Ino murmured, looking down.

Traversing the castle from the eighth floor to the Slytherin common room was a journey the young wizards measured with their feet, gauging the castle's height.

Through the corridor's dusty windows, the outside sky was still a hazy gray-blue. The entire castle seemed not yet awakened from its slumber.

Just as he planned to create a slide for a quick descent, he heard calm and steady footsteps behind him.

"Tap, tap, tap!"

Since there was someone else, Ino decided against making the slide. Despite a whole school year passing, he knew that being seen by that grudge-bearing Filch would result in endless nagging and cold stares.

Turning slowly, he saw an elderly man in a moon-white robe with a powder-blue nightcap.

Such a unique and playful outfit could only belong to one person in Hogwarts, undoubtedly a distinctive sight in the castle.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore."

Seeing him, Ino greeted proactively.

"Good morning, Ino." Dumbledore smiled, adjusting his slightly askew nightcap. "It seems you've just had an interesting experience?"

"Interesting? Maybe. Do you not know about this room?" Ino turned to look at the tapestry in the corridor.

"The Room of Requirement! It's magical, isn't it? But that's not what I meant."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with wisdom as he raised his hand to the smooth wall, turning it into a six-foot-high mirror.

In the mirror, Ino noticed the problem in astonishment.

His appearance hadn't changed; he still looked handsome. But both his hair and eyes had undergone subtle changes in the reflection.

First, his amber pupils had lightened, like a nearly dry watercolor brush sketching on paper.

Secondly, his black hair reflected a faint blue glow under the candlelight, though so faint it was almost imperceptible. Yet, a change was a change.

Quickly, Ino realized that everything had a cost.

It was clear that his deepened control over ice and snow in the Room of Requirement had its side effects.

His hair color and pupils seemed to be gradually shifting toward the characteristics of the White Witch, a trait of the Charn royal bloodline from another world.

Though other explanations were possible, this one made the most sense.

He then thought of his recent performance in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Looking back, it seemed that he had unknowingly been influenced by his bloodline.

Upon reflection, he noticed many differences since the start of this school year; his words and actions had subtly changed.

The same situation, if it had been during his first year, he would have quietly cast magic and hidden to protect himself, never high-profile enough to freeze the entire classroom.

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