Up in the stands.
After casually snapping a few photos, Colin seemed to have recaptured the feeling of his school days. He stood up and headed toward another section with better lighting. Ino was more than happy to see him go; his original intention had been to use the Triwizard Tournament as an opportunity to promote the Shrieking Shack project.
Although he had not yet managed to create the artificial lifeforms he had envisioned, making the town look a bit desolate from the outside, that was only true during the day. Come nightfall, the deserted little town would transform into an entirely different spectacle.
...
"Ino, I have always wanted to ask you something. Is everything in the dream realm real or fake?"
Unlike the others, Draco was one of the few who knew the truth about the dream. Because of this, he voiced his doubts as soon as Colin left. He had seen the town in the distance and fully understood the purpose of his and Colin's visit, but the empty streets easily reminded him of that hyper-realistic dreamscape.
Hearing Draco's question, Ino hesitated briefly before answering with a smile.
"If you believe it is real, then it is real. If you believe it is fake, then it must be fake."
"Like Transfiguration?" Draco asked, his expression showing a hint of surprise.
"You could think of it that way." Ino nodded slightly, agreeing with the comparison.
In his heart, he felt the same. Everything in the dream was like Transfiguration, a physical manifestation of one's deepest thoughts and desires. But if one had to firmly draw a line between real and fake, there was simply no standard answer. Transfiguration itself existed in the twilight space between reality and illusion.
Perhaps ninety-nine percent of wizards believed that Transfiguration was fundamentally fake. However, with the Philosopher's Stone, there was no longer a distinction. After all, turning stone into gold created genuine, flawless gold.
...
Time quietly slipped away.
Ino chatted with Draco about trivial everyday matters, though Draco ended up doing most of the talking. At that moment, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice echoed through the massive stadium.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to once again..."
The familiar opening ignited the crowd's enthusiasm. As the first champion stepped into the arena, Ino gently tapped his index finger against the armrest of his seat.
The previously empty grounds underwent an earth-shattering transformation. A swarm of winged copper keys fluttered into the sky, a colossal set of Wizard's Chess materialized on the field, and an enormous hourglass loomed directly overhead.
While others simply watched the spectacle in awe, Professor McGonagall smiled with deep gratification. These were all products of Transfiguration. Though she was now the Headmistress, she had been Hogwarts' Transfiguration professor first and foremost.
...
Time sometimes acted like a meteor streaking across the night sky, vanishing in the blink of an eye. While people marveled at its beauty, they often ignored how quickly it passed.
A full month and a half had flown by since the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. The calendar had finally turned to Christmas Eve.
Speaking of the Tournament, the performance of the three champions deserved mention. With Harry's dramatic narrative concluded and the world returned to peace, the Durmstrang champion finally demonstrated the pure excellence of their elite education. While it was not a complete routing, the gap in skill was obvious to everyone.
Logically, the Goblet of Fire tasks should have remained the most enduring topic of conversation throughout the entire school year. However, with the release of the latest issue of Hogwarts Chronicles alongside the new Movie Mirrors half a month ago, the students' focus had quietly shifted.
"So, this is a princess murdered by her stepmother?"
"Mermaids falling in love with humans? That prince must be blind. I have seen the merpeople in the Black Lake..."
"Cinderella's glass slippers must be Transfiguration magic..."
Endless discussions echoed through the castle halls. For the first time, Muggle-born witches and wizards truly stole the spotlight.
According to the latest magazine report, Professor Swinburne's Fairy Tale Town, a creation of the miracle wizard himself, would open to the public during the Christmas holidays. In the accompanying Film Mirrors, many had caught glimpses of dreamlike scenes featuring talking wooden puppets and girls no bigger than a thumb.
Clearly, students raised purely in the magical world knew absolutely nothing about these Muggle fairy tales. This sparked a wave of enthusiastic debates that swept through the entire castle. On weekends, there were even designated storytellers holding court in the common rooms.
...
Time flew by.
On Christmas Day, Hogwarts did not hold its traditional evening feast. Or rather, the venue for the feast was moved entirely away from the Great Hall.
At seven o'clock, as the last trace of the setting sun vanished beyond the horizon, darkness officially blanketed the land. It was a stark contrast to the daytime. The night town was illuminated by magical lamps in all sorts of whimsical shapes. There were giant pumpkins, slender mushrooms, roaring lions, and even a motionless, glowing Professor McGonagall.
Unlike the other magic lamps that proudly bore their creator's signature and date, the pillar beneath this 'Professor McGonagall' lamp only featured a single engraved sentence: Could you please assign a little less homework?
"Hahaha, Minerva! You really are more popular than I am," Dumbledore chuckled as he stood in front of the lamp pillar, his face brimming with blatant envy.
"Do not let me find out who made this." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, looking far more annoyed than amused.
"It is a good thing. At the very least, everyone who comes here will get to see you," Dumbledore replied warmly.
Looking around with a soft sigh of admiration, Dumbledore felt deeply at peace. He had been immensely intrigued when he first received Ino's invitation. But now that he was actually standing in the town, the atmosphere felt incredibly comforting. Perhaps, in a perfect dream, this was exactly what Hogwarts was always meant to be.
...
The town at night was not only brightly lit but also bustling with crowds. This time, the grand opening was available to the entire magical community.
Among the throng, Fred and George darted through the streets, each carrying their own child. Their hyperactive antics made Angelina and another blonde witch exchange wry smiles. Soon enough, however, the two women discarded the so-called burdens of adulthood and joined their husbands and children in the fun. Seeing their mothers join in, the children's laughter rang out even clearer.
Happiness was sometimes wonderfully simple. All it required was letting go of burdens that never truly existed in the first place.
...
Compared to the wild energy of the twins, Harry and Ginny appeared remarkably steady as they strolled hand in hand through the town.
However, as they passed a particular candy shop, Harry suddenly paused. The shop was named Time. The owners were an ordinary-looking middle-aged couple, yet they gave Harry an overwhelming, inexplicable sense of familiarity. At that moment, the couple was surrounded by young wizards, happily pulling various sweets from behind the counter to hand out.
"Is something wrong?" Ginny noticed her husband's unusual reaction immediately.
"It is nothing. I just think they look very happy," Harry replied softly.
After speaking, he decisively shifted his gaze away. Yet, the moment he turned his head, he spotted Severus Snape in the crowd. The man seemed to be staring at the exact same candy shop. Perhaps due to a wizard's keen instincts, Snape's gaze instantly flicked over and landed on Harry.
Across the considerable distance, the two men shared a long, silent exchange of looks.
A moment passed.
"I think I am going to find a godfather for our child," Harry said softly. He gently took Ginny's hand and began walking in the direction Snape had turned.
...
Amidst the lively, bustling town, Ino sat alone on a small folding stool, leaning against a street wall. In front of him lay a faded, washed-out piece of canvas spread over the ground.
Though he sat quietly on the edge of the street, his gaze seemed capable of piercing through all obstacles. In that moment, he saw countless familiar figures scattered throughout the town. There were three generations of the Malfoy family, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius Black, and even Alastor Moody, who was holding a teacup and muttering fiercely to himself.
Suddenly, a crisp voice broke through his reverie.
"Excuse me, sir! Are you still offering fortune-telling?"
Hearing that incredibly familiar voice, Ino slowly raised his head. Hermione was standing gracefully in front of his humble stall, holding a slightly crumpled one-pound note.