Astronomy Tower.
After Professor McGonagall departed, Ino turned and began walking down the long spiral staircase, his footsteps steady.
Behind him, the chairs and desks at the top of the tower began to fade. One by one, they vanished quietly, as if being erased from the world like pencil sketches under a careful hand with an eraser.
…
Leaving the Astronomy Tower behind, Ino made his way through the castle, eventually arriving at his office on the second floor, the one reserved for the elective course of Mechanical Magic.
He opened the door and stepped into a space so minimal it was almost unsettling. Besides a massive desk that looked more like a reinforced steel workbench, and a modest set of couch and tea table for visitors, the room had nothing else. No bookshelf, no decorations, not even a single picture on the wall.
It looked less like a professor's office and more like a storage room in Gringotts.
But the moment Ino sat down at the desk, the room transformed.
The walls expanded outward in an instant, and towering bookshelves sprang to life along every surface, stretching impossibly far in every direction. The bare room became a private library, vast and silent, filled with countless volumes only he could access.
He casually reached for a stack of parchment arranged neatly on the desk, student homework. But not just any homework. These were submissions carefully selected from his elective class, all showing potential in the field of Mechanical Magic.
A thick bundle, at least a dozen sheets folded together. Not bad at all. For a subject that wasn't even mandatory, managing to identify over ten genuinely gifted students was a rare kind of luck.
It had been seven years.
Seven years since Ino first introduced affordable magical lanterns during his second year at Hogwarts. That breakthrough alone had disrupted the market and forced traditionalists to acknowledge his revised theories of magical engineering. It also laid the foundation for broader acceptance of mechanical knowledge within the magical world.
Over time, he exchanged ideas with old Bance, and later, even discussed theories with Alice, the automaton.
Well, calling her an "automaton" wasn't quite accurate. As he eventually discovered, Alice was a bona fide semi-mechanical lifeform.
That revelation intrigued him. Unfortunately, the conversations didn't go much further. Once they veered into sensitive territory, Alice grew silent.
Ino didn't take offense. He understood all too well that knowledge was never cheap. Foundational ideas might be shared freely, but anything core, anything valuable, always came with a price.
So he offered something in return, his trump card. A complete set of ancient rune language knowledge. Or, to be precise, one complete rune. He had no intention of giving away all twenty-four, at least not until he could fully develop and anchor them into a valley structure he was planning.
Even just one rune, though, was enough to earn something quite significant: a formula for magical energy conversion. It became the cornerstone of his entire curriculum.
To Ino, this was only natural. A civilization based on mechanical magic couldn't function using coal lamps or steam engines. That was primitive tech, fit only for backwater places like Loughton, a town so isolated and worthless that they were still using outdated systems like it was the 1800s.
With the core principles in hand, and combining them with alchemical methodologies, Ino officially established the field of Mechanical Magic.
And its real purpose?
To give every wizard, no matter their background, a fighting chance.
The logic was simple. Each year, Hogwarts graduated a batch of bright-eyed students. But realistically, even the best of them only mastered a few dozen spells by the time they left. For those from pureblood families, that was fine, they had heritage and connections.
But for Muggle-born students? It was another story.
No family legacy. No old family wand. No access to wizarding networks. After graduation, most ended up in the magical service industry, if they were lucky. Shop clerks, waitstaff, maybe some back-office jobs at Gringotts. And if they were unlucky? They'd end up back in the Muggle world, awkwardly trying to fit in with only a primary school education to their name and no way to explain what they'd really been doing for seven years.
Even Hermione Granger, brilliant, driven, and widely respected, didn't make it to Minister of Magic on talent alone, that was a fact worth pondering.
Then there was Voldemort.
He had raved about blood purity and the superiority of purebloods. But when he fell, what really changed?
The Sacred Twenty-Eight still ran the Ministry. Sure, the names changed, Lestrange and Malfoy out, Potter, Longbottom, and Weasley in, but the structure remained untouched. The game just had new players.
Ino sighed and put down the student work.
He opened a drawer and pulled out a thick, leather-bound notebook.
He didn't want to be a revolutionary. He had no interest in dismantling systems. But he could at least offer an alternative, a real alternative.
Mechanical Magic was that path. A way to give everyone a fair start.
…
Time passed quietly.
Ino continued reading, correcting and grading until the tall clock in the hallway struck ten.
Curfew.
He stood up and stretched. The robe hanging on the coat stand flew over and settled onto his shoulders like a well-trained dog.
Tonight, he had a different task, night patrol.
Hogwarts was a castle of stone, but its students flowed like a river, ever changing. George and Fred Weasley had not been the last of their kind. Every few years, a new pair of mischief-makers inevitably emerged.
Ino didn't go out of his way to stop them. Nor did he encourage them. He believed in boundaries. Sneaking through the halls at night? Fine. Exploring the Forbidden Forest or using secret tunnels to sneak into Hogsmeade? Not fine.
His punishment system was simple and effective. No detentions. No house points lost. Just books. Copying them. In the library. Every weekend. No exceptions.
It was strict, yet somehow worse than a slap on the wrist. Especially now, with Mad-Eye Moody stationed outside the castle, the Forbidden Forest had finally lived up to its name.
…
Within the dimly lit corridors of the castle, Ino strolled along aimlessly.
He'd entered Hogwarts at eleven. Now, at twenty-three, he still roamed its ancient halls. It sometimes felt like time stood still here, the same portraits whispering to each other, the same staircases creaking and shifting at their own whims.
He reached the fourth-floor corridor just as a pair of students came hurtling around the corner, breathless and clearly in a rush.
They didn't see him.
They dashed toward the stairs without a glance, unaware of their unfortunate timing.
About ten seconds later, another set of footsteps echoed down the hall.
Filch, ever hunched, ever determined, was making his way down the corridor with Mrs. Norris trotting beside him. The caretaker was older now, but no less observant.
"Evening, Professor Swinburne," Filch greeted politely, stopping as soon as he saw Ino.
Catching students after curfew was important, but politeness to a professor, especially a potential future Headmaster, was more so.
"Did you happen to see two students run past?" he asked.
Ino gave him a long look.
Filch looked… tired. His once angry eyes had softened over the years. Maybe time wasn't frozen in this place after all.
"I saw them," Ino said with a faint smile. "Come on, let's go get them."
Honestly, he hadn't planned to interfere. But when two troublemakers ran right past him without even bothering to cover their faces, well… some things just couldn't be ignored.
He was a professor, after all.
And some standards had to be maintained.