Chapter 69: The Returning Train
The train traveled through the dawn, with fields and hills whizzing past outside the window.
In the compartment, Ino quietly watched the scenery.
When he first boarded this train, he was full of anticipation, heading towards the fairy tale-like Hogwarts.
Now, after a school year had flown by, he was once again on the same train, leaving.
It seemed like nothing had changed, but Ino knew that many things had already undergone drastic changes.
Although, under the inertia of fate, Quirrell—or rather, Voldemort's remnant soul—was ultimately defeated by the magic of love, and Gryffindor managed a comeback despite being far behind.
Slytherin's seven consecutive championships ultimately did not materialize.
However, similarly, some minor events also changed.
...
Turning his gaze back to the compartment, Malfoy was still Malfoy, but Goyle and Crabbe had been replaced by Pansy and Daphne.
Knock, knock, knock!
The compartment door was pushed open.
"Children, would you like some sweets?"
"Of course, ma'am! We'd like some." Ino spoke up before anyone else could refuse.
Although he had accumulated too many sweets and snacks in his trunk, buying from the trolley and buying from Honeydukes were two entirely different experiences.
Roughly, it was like the moon at home always appearing rounder than the one outside.
After spending a Galleon, Ino bought almost everything on the trolley.
Looking at the pile of sweets on the table, Draco hesitated and said:
"Ino, you really didn't need to do that. We have everything at home; I can get you whatever you want."
"Your home?" Pansy immediately caught the key point of the sentence, "Is Mr. Swinburne visiting your home for the holidays?"
Although she was asking Draco, Pansy's eyes were firmly fixed on Ino.
"Alright, yes! I'll be visiting Draco's home for the holidays," Ino replied helplessly.
He increasingly felt that Draco had a loose tongue. They had clearly agreed in the dormitory not to mention this, but Draco not only mentioned it but did so in front of Pansy and Daphne.
"You..."
Upon receiving the definitive answer, Pansy was momentarily speechless, and her expression shifted through confusion, shock, suspicion, and disbelief...
"I'm just going to his place for two days, just two days! After that, I'll follow my own plans for the holidays," Ino quickly explained.
Seeing Pansy's expression change, he sensed something was amiss. Coupled with Daphne's stifled laughter and the ambiguous glances she cast between him and Draco, like a fox that had stolen a hen, Ino felt a chill run down his spine. Knowing this was England, if he didn't clear things up now, who knew what kind of rumors might arise by the next school year.
"Ino is just staying at my house for two days; it's my father's invitation. What on earth are you two thinking?"
Draco, belatedly realizing the problem, flushed with anger.
He now also feared rumors. If they spread to the castle by next school year, Scarhead would definitely mock him...
"Why are you yelling? Did I say anything?"
Pansy retorted fiercely at Draco, then looked at Daphne, who had been quietly watching.
"And you, is it really that funny? You've been laughing non-stop."
Despite her strong retort, Ino could sense that Pansy had inexplicably relaxed. Initially few words like a dam full of water, now her assertive manner seemed like a release, reducing the tension bit by bit.
...
"When there's a chance, I'll invite you to my place, next Christmas or during the summer. I plan to buy a house in Hogsmeade."
Ino spoke his plans slowly, also to ease the slightly awkward atmosphere in the compartment.
"Buy a house?" Draco turned his head in surprise, "Leave it to me! Let my father help you find one. If there's nothing suitable, you can build one next to our house; we've bought all the land around us."
Hearing Draco's response, Ino immediately pondered how to tactfully refuse. The former suggestion was fine—getting Lucius to help would save a lot of unnecessary trouble.
As for the latter... building a house next to Malfoy Manor? It sounded like setting up a guesthouse for Death Eater gatherings.
However, before he could refuse, Pansy had already adjusted and chimed in:
"Mr. Swinburne, we have properties in Hogsmeade, whether for shop or residence, that can meet your needs. You don't need Draco; the Malfoys have more shops in Diagon Alley than Hogsmeade."
And on the other side, Malfoy didn't refute but instead turned his head towards the window, a tacit acknowledgment.
"Thank you so much, Miss Parkinson! My budget isn't large, about a thousand Galleons, so I won't consider shops. A small house to live in will suffice."
After some calculations, Ino stated his budget. A thousand Galleons was his limit.
After all, Gringotts exchanged one gold coin for 145 Galleons. Although old John had given him a bagful, it was at most a hundred coins.
"And me! We have spare house-elves. Although I can't give you one, I can sell you one." Daphne seized the moment to offer.
"Thank you as well, Miss Greengrass! But I don't plan to buy one just yet. Maybe when I need it later, I'll come to you." Ino politely declined.
Although it was a sale, it was still a favor.
During his time in Slytherin, he learned that purebloods controlled house-elves, and there was hardly any chance for them to circulate outside. Even if there were trades, they were handled internally.
As for Knockturn Alley, any house-elf appearing there was probably for dark wizard experiments.
After all, no one would trust a house-elf without a contract.
...
The train heading home for the holidays moved safely along the tracks.
In another compartment not far from Ino's.
Hermione gently stroked her owl's soft, velvet-like feathers, feeling the slight tremors and warmth through her fingers.
The owl seemed to enjoy this interaction as well, half-closing its eyes and nuzzling Hermione's hand, expressing its joy.
This scene was perfectly captured by Ron.
First, he looked at Hermione's owl, then turned his gaze to the snowy owl, Hedwig, on the shelf.
Quietly, Ron slipped his hand into his pocket and gripped the sleeping Scabbers tightly.