"You want to bet? I'm all in!"
Looking around, Ron became more confident than ever as he noticed that he had almost become the center of attention in the Great Hall.
"Excellent! Very good! This is the kind of excellence that Scarhead talks about."
Draco subtly praised Ron again, and after a brief pause, he continued:
"Since you're so excellent, becoming Hogwarts' champion should be a piece of cake for you."
With just a few words, Draco had skillfully cornered Ron into a difficult position.
The onlookers were now all wearing amused expressions, especially since this was happening at the Slytherin table.
The Slytherins remained silent, waiting for Ron's response.
If Ron dared to acknowledge the challenge, they would undoubtedly spread the news with added embellishments; if he denied it, they would make sure he experienced just how vicious rumors could be.
Ron, being the castle's gossip carrier, knew this all too well.
But he was also aware that he had fallen into a rhetorical trap, and any response would be wrong.
Harry was equally troubled, feeling that he had set Ron up for this mess. Otherwise, with Ron's usual caution, he wouldn't be acting so recklessly today.
Just as Harry was at a loss, a clear voice rang out from the crowd:
"Ron is a Gryffindor, so do you Slytherins have no one left? Are you here eagerly awaiting a Gryffindor to become the champion? If that's really the case, I have nothing more to say!"
At this critical moment, Ginny stood up without hesitation, her logic so sharp that it left no room for rebuttal.
In fact, she hadn't intended to get involved since Draco hadn't mentioned the Weasley family this time.
But for some reason, when she saw Harry frowning, she couldn't help but stand up.
...
The turmoil in the Great Hall didn't affect the castle's underground chambers in the slightest.
In the Slytherin dormitory.
On a round beechwood table were some simple foods: a plate of floral pastries, a paper-wrapped block of creamy toffee, and a few biscuits.
These were all foods prepared by Blue Lantern. Normally, Hogwarts had no shortage of ingredients, but Ino didn't want to use them without permission.
Taking without asking is theft.
Even if the Hogwarts kitchens wouldn't miss these few things, some matters are judged by their nature, not their scale.
"Maybe I could set aside a section for a vegetable garden..." Looking at the floral pastries in front of him, Ino suddenly felt that dedicating the hundred acres of land solely to growing herbs might be a bit wasteful.
A hundred acres might not sound like much, but if you consider it in another commonly used unit of measurement, it becomes quite substantial.
One acre is 4,000 square meters, and a hundred-acre valley covers a total of 400,000 square meters—equivalent to a medieval city.
It seemed like just planting crops wouldn't be enough, but the shelter couldn't bring in foreign life...
Gradually, Ino's thoughts drifted to fairy tales: a table that always sets itself, a magical tablecloth that can conjure delicious meals anytime, anywhere, and other miraculous items related to food.
Thoughts, like dandelions drifting in the wind, sometimes have no clear origin or destination.
But one thing is certain—sometimes, the sight of dandelions dancing in the air can be mesmerizing.
Just like endless thoughts.
...
In the dormitory.
Guided by the anchor of food, Ino's thoughts wandered far and wide.
Four years had passed since he entered Hogwarts, and it seemed that not only had the original story changed, but he himself had changed as well.
He once worried only about daily affairs, but after receiving the owl's letter, he began to worry about the plot of the future story, until now...
Perhaps there was nothing left to worry about.
But many things are relative, and worries are no exception. When there's nothing to worry about, it seems like there's no corresponding motivation either.
Sitting in his chair, Ino gradually fell into a quiet contemplation.
Time passed by, minute by minute.
Until the silence in the dormitory was broken by a buzzing sound.
The sound came from the cabinet beside his bed. As it buzzed, the cabinet seemed to be slowly opened by an invisible hand, and then a three-inch circular mirror floated out of thin air.
Ino stared, dumbfounded, at the floating double-sided mirror.
The mirror floated toward him, which wasn't particularly surprising, but what did surprise him was that it had flown over on its own.
Wandless and silent casting.
The thought instantly popped into Ino's mind.
It was quite strange—although he could now perform wandless magic, it was limited to ice and snow magic, which was integrated into his bloodline.
For other traditional spells, he still mostly relied on his wand.
However, just now...
With just a single thought, the cabinet had opened, and the double-sided mirror had floated over naturally.
As if recalling something, Ino briefly replayed the events in his mind and then looked at the creamy toffee on the table.
In an instant, the paper was unwrapped, and the candy floated over by itself.
"The initial thought! I should have realized it earlier..."
Ino smiled as he picked up the floating candy, then connected to the double-sided mirror.
At that moment, he finally understood the secret of wandless and silent casting—it wasn't based on any profound theory.
It was simply about not thinking—don't think about the wand, don't think about the incantation, and don't think about gestures.
Just maintain the most basic thought, and even forget about magic itself, letting it become a natural reflex of the body.
Just like his early days with ice and snow magic—there was nothing more than pure belief, because he knew that his ice and snow powers were unique in the magical world.
It's a kind of instinctive trust, easy to explain but difficult to achieve.
...
In that instant.
Ino thought of the world he came from.
In that distant world, magic existed only in books and movies. It was merely a bedtime story for children.
But then again, if magic had really existed in that world and given someone with wizarding talent a real wand, it probably wouldn't have made a difference.
The reason is simple—it's a matter of perception.
People would always believe that magic was just a story from books and movies. Even if they were lucky enough to witness it, they would come up with all sorts of reasons, explanations they could accept, to rationalize it...
For example, they'd think it was an amazing magic trick or perhaps some invisible technological aid.
Once the seed of doubt is planted, the magical fruit naturally won't grow.
Similarly, the young wizards at Hogwarts are the same. Seven years of study have made them believe that magic can only be released by waving a wand and reciting an incantation.
Having figured it out, Ino felt a sudden sense of relief, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.
"You seem quite happy?"
Hermione's voice came from the other side of the double-sided mirror.
In fact, after the mirror connected, she had seen Ino's dazed figure through it.
In the mirror, Ino sat still in his chair, seemingly deep in thought.
Seeing this, Hermione hadn't wanted to disturb him, but then she noticed that Ino, after sitting for a while, started smiling to himself.
This made her change her original plan to wait quietly.