Harry Potter: The Bard of Hogwarts

In this world, everything seems to have a balance. While some find joy, others inevitably face sorrow.

Before the Christmas holidays, while Hermione was elated with her two-way mirror, Daphne entered the Slytherin girls' dormitory looking disheartened.

"Did Professor Snape target you?" Pansy raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"How do you know Professor Snape was there? Did you sneak there too?" Daphne didn't answer directly but instead countered with a question. She was upset that Pansy had promised not to go but went anyway and didn't help her.

Seeing through Daphne's thoughts, Pansy chuckled softly and shook her head.

"I was in the dormitory reading, but with the shrewd Malfoy around, some things are inevitably known."

"You..." Daphne was fuming. She had already lost the argument and now was being told it was pointless, making her eyes misty with frustration. Despite being a pureblood, Daphne was still just a third-year witch, a girl not yet 15.

On the other side, seeing her friend about to cry, Pansy put down her book. She stood up, gently hugged Daphne, patted her back, and comforted her softly:

"I never wanted you to go in the first place, but I can't control your thoughts. So I had to let you experience it yourself."

The unexpected hug and comforting words gradually stopped Daphne's imminent tears.

"Since you knew, why didn't you tell me clearly?"

"Tell you clearly?" Pansy released Daphne and calmly looked towards her desk, where her unfinished book "The Persian Wars" lay.

"In 480 BC, a war broke out between Persia and Greece. Greece was then a collection of city-states, each governing itself. Only King Leonidas I of Sparta was willing to resist..."

As Pansy spoke, her bright eyes seemed to peer through history, envisioning that fierce battle.

"...Leonidas tried his best to convince all the city-states of the Persian threat, but did anyone agree? Even in Sparta, only his 300 personal guards followed him."

The famous Battle of Thermopylae unfolded vividly through Pansy's narration.

...

A quarter of an hour passed.

When Pansy finished, the dormitory fell silent again.

"You deliberately made me face setbacks to turn me into your follower?" Daphne pinpointed the crux of the matter. Her long-standing family education revealed Pansy's underlying motive.

Faced with Daphne's sharp questioning, Pansy turned calmly, meeting her gaze without a trace of avoidance.

"Do you remember what I said before you left the dormitory? I didn't finish my sentence back then; there was a second part."

Pansy looked into Daphne's eyes and said each word clearly:

"Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead; do not walk in front of me, for I may not follow; just walk beside me and be my companion."

Pansy's words were sincere, but under her steady gaze, Daphne's cheeks turned an unusual shade of red.

"What exactly do you want? Since the beginning of the term, I've noticed you've been different, always buried in those Muggle books. We are witches!"

Daphne turned her head awkwardly, avoiding Pansy's gaze. Her tone, however, softened from the earlier confrontation, showing a hint of concern.

This time, Pansy didn't reply directly, only murmuring Daphne's last words.

"Yes, we are witches, and because we are witches..."

...

Time passed.

Two days flew by, and the Christmas holidays arrived as expected.

Once again, Ino chose not to take the train. He returned to the Hogsmeade cottage alone and then used the fireplace to travel to the Leaky Cauldron.

After a brief chat with Old Tom and placing an order for more smuggled dragon meat, he stepped out of the pub and onto a quiet street, drawing his wand and pointing it to the sky.

With a screeching sound, a double-decker bus appeared before him.

Stan Shunpike opened the door, teasing, "Merry Christmas! England's famous writer and singer..."

"Cut it out, or I'll leave!" Ino responded, pretending to be annoyed.

"Don't be like that! I even bought your book!" Stan jumped off the bus, pulling out a well-bound book, "The Hidden Story."

"At least sign it before you go!" he added.

"I didn't expect you to buy it." Ino laughed, pulling out a marker. Since his book and record releases, he had started carrying a pen.

"At 11 Sickles, it's worth it just for the record." Stan shrugged indifferently.

"By the way, when's your next song coming out? One song isn't enough."

After thinking for a moment, Ino gave a clear answer.

"A new song? It should be out before next summer."

Considering the timing and copyright, he decided to release "The Cup of Life" early, as a prelude to next year's Quidditch World Cup.

...

Boarding the Knight Bus, Ino told Stan Shunpike his destination: Shocktober Fest—a horror theme park in Tulleys Farm, on the outskirts of London.

Known as England's scariest haunted house, this park boasts over ten different themed horror houses, along with carefully crafted background stories and matching hotel and dining services.

Such an ideal environment was too good to pass up.

Before the holidays, Ino tried to find fear in the Forbidden Forest for his Boggart, but other than the centaur tribe, the magical creatures' fear was minimal, even the wise Acromantula.

As for the centaur tribe, he wasn't inclined to target humanoid creatures. It was a matter of principle, avoiding the slippery slope of moral decline.

Due to the Forbidden Forest's limited fear production, the horror park became his top choice. Legally harnessing fear was better than letting it dissipate.

...

The Knight Bus sped through London's streets. Within minutes, the scenery changed to sparse houses and dense woods.

In the countryside, the bus picked up speed.

Leaning against the copper pole of the moving bed, Ino pondered his Boggart's changes.

In two days, he understood the "smoke's" usefulness—not only could it scout from a second perspective, but it also retained its essence—condensing and dispersing.

The palm-sized black smoke could merge into an inky dot or disperse into a thin mist, covering half a room.

The effects varied with its form.

This wasn't a guess but feedback from the Acromantula's life in the Forbidden Forest. In its dot form, the Boggart instantly scared the Acromantula into convulsions upon contact. In mist form, it only induced panic and fear.

The Boggart's forms had no superiority, merely differing between individual and widespread fear.