Ghosts—remnants of deceased witches and wizards—are the final traces they leave in the realm of the living.
They can still speak, walk, and move about freely.
But because they chose the most meager form of continued existence, ghosts are unable to enjoy anything—no delicious food, no beautiful ornaments, no warmth or touch.
…
At this moment, Hermione was in such a ghostly state, her body a faintly translucent, pearly white.
Upon hearing the voice that called out to her, she stopped drifting aimlessly and instead floated before Ino.
"You shouldn't have acted so recklessly in the end. What's done is done, and now you'll face punishment from the Ministry of Magic."
Her voice was cool and ethereal, yet the concern in her tone was unmistakable.
"If we're talking about rashness, you were the one who acted without thinking." Ino lifted his head, his gaze filled with concern—but also a hint of reproach.
"Well—! I didn't think it through. It was just the two of us at the time, and you didn't even have your wand… I had my necklace at least. You had nothing."
It seemed that, even as a ghost, Hermione's mind was still stuck in that final moment of her life.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Hermione lowered her head, her voice soft and tinged with sorrow.
"Ino… can you help me? Cast the Forgetfulness Charm on my parents. I don't want them to grieve…"
"I can do more than that. I can bring you back," Ino interrupted firmly.
"It won't be easy—the conditions are harsh, maybe even cruel—but I can bring you back to life."
"Bring me… back?" Hermione looked stunned. She had never heard of anyone being resurrected—not even with magic.
But when she saw the seriousness in Ino's expression, she knew he wasn't joking. The shock on her face slowly turned to hope and disbelief.
"Is it really possible?" Her voice trembled, choked with emotion.
Most witches and wizards who become ghosts do so out of attachment or fear of moving on. It's a hollow and limited existence—chosen out of reluctance rather than hope.
Now, hearing that resurrection was possible, Hermione found herself overwhelmed with indescribable feelings.
"I'm serious," said Ino, nodding. "But I need to tell you everything first—the limits, the risks."
As he spoke, he glanced around the spotless hospital ward. Once he confirmed they were alone, the shadows beneath his feet began to spread outward.
Within moments, black mist—spawned from a Boggart—had cloaked the entire room.
…
"Hermione, we met long before Hogwarts… back at Cheltenham Academy's primary division."
Just one sentence, and it was as if time rewound to a summer four years ago.
Hermione floated silently beside him, and in her mind's eye she saw that memory vividly: the shade beneath the school's gate trees, a little folding stool, a piece of sun-bleached linen…
"Magic can create miracles. For many Muggle-born children, the arrival of that Hogwarts letter at age eleven is a miracle. But for me, there was another miracle—beyond that first one."
In the mist-shrouded hospital ward, Ino began recounting their past—the memories, the mischief, the little moments that built their bond.
"Old John was a lousy father! Completely irresponsible!" Hermione snapped when he brought up stories of their village.
"And that princess was so pitiful!" she added, clearly empathizing as he spoke of the girl trapped in the tower.
"So… the White Witch was the first person you brought back?"
Hermione's tone suddenly shifted as he mentioned Lina. Her expression and voice both turned oddly sour.
"She wasn't brought back by me. She… smuggled herself in."
Ino chose honesty immediately, picking up on the subtle jealousy in Hermione's voice.
"Smuggled?" Hermione blinked, baffled. "You mean like… across a border?"
"It's a thing," Ino nodded seriously. "Even between worlds."
Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. She'd heard of illegal border crossings, sure—but this was the first time she'd ever heard someone talk about interdimensional smuggling.
"Still," Ino continued, "I can't deny that the White Witch was a huge help to me. And that ice-flower she brought back… it's the key ingredient in your resurrection."
He went on to explain everything: the Sanctuary, its advantages and drawbacks, and the restrictions she'd face even after coming back to life.
…
Outside, the sun was rising steadily.
From dawn to early morning, more than two hours had passed.
The black mist encircling the hospital ward kept others from entering.
Born from a Boggart, the mist fed on fear. Anyone without a resolute mind would be overwhelmed with terrifying memories the moment they looked into it.
Cornelius Fudge was one such person.
Standing just outside the ward, Fudge kept dabbing at his sweating brow with a handkerchief—even though it was the dead of winter.
"This… this really isn't necessary," he muttered. "Mr. Swinburne had his reasons…"
Nominally the most powerful man in England, Fudge now looked utterly flustered.
Caught between sides, he was powerless. Whatever plan he'd had the day before had crumbled the moment he arrived.
He still didn't understand why Professor McGonagall insisted on a formal trial.
Standing nearby, Professor McGonagall looked just as troubled. If she could, she would have let it go.
But she knew that for Ino's future—so he wouldn't be plagued by rumors or mistrust—it was better to go through with the Ministry's process.
A formal trial would make everything official. Once the Wizengamot ruled, no one could question Ino's actions again.
Besides, the more Fudge tried to avoid the trial, the more reassured she felt.
If Fudge had been harsh and uncompromising, she might've had to step in herself to protect Ino.
"So… are we just going to wait here? Maybe postpone this a few days…" Fudge looked uneasily down the corridor. He didn't even glance at the swirling mist again after his first look.
…
Inside the ward, Ino had no idea what was happening beyond the door.
He had said all he needed to say. Now he simply waited—quietly—for Hermione's answer.
Time ticked by in silence.
Then, finally, Hermione's voice broke the stillness.
"If I come back… would you just leave me behind in another world someday? Like you did with her?"
"What? Of course not!" Ino shook his head without hesitation. "Yes, resurrection comes with Sanctuary-based restrictions—but I've already figured out a solution. We can use magic—"
"Magic?" Hermione raised an eyebrow with interest.
She was clearly delighted—not only because she had the chance to live again, but also because it meant she could explore other worlds with Ino. Strange, fantastical realms he had described before.
Still, no matter how happy she was, a girl had to maintain a little pride. Her question earlier was just a subtle way of showing it.
Ino hadn't picked up on that, but it didn't stop him from sharing his plan:
"A Blood Pact."
Compared to an Unbreakable Vow, the Blood Pact was a deeper, more intimate magical connection—one that dissolved the gaps between people.
Unlike mere oaths, it was forged through both blood and emotion. A binding, magical link that ensured mutual respect—and prevented either party from harming the other.
And that… was the best solution Ino had come up with.
"For the Pact's token, I want to use the Sanctuary itself. That way, it can never be broken."
After explaining the Blood Pact, he laid out his plan in full.
Among all the magical oaths in the wizarding world, the Blood Pact was likely the most profound.
It wasn't well known—not because it was weak, but because its token could be destroyed, thus nullifying the pact.
But by using the Sanctuary as the token, Ino had created a perfect balance.
The Sanctuary provided structure and control, while the Blood Pact added the unbreakable bond. To break the pact, one would first have to dismantle the Sanctuary—a nearly impossible task.
It was a closed loop. Unbreakable. Absolute.
…
In Newt's story, Dumbledore had only been able to fight back after destroying the Blood Pact's token.
But unlike Lina's illicit resurrection, this would be Ino's first intentional revival.
And he didn't want Hermione to be anyone's subordinate—not even his.
By tying them together through the Blood Pact, with the Sanctuary as its token, he offered her both life and freedom.
Even if they someday parted ways, Hermione would remain her own person—independent and whole.
The pact would only mean they could never harm each other. Nothing more. No chains. No ownership.
Just a promise.
________
Blood Pact
A Blood Pact is a profound magical bond—not merely an oath, but a deep connection forged through shared blood and emotion. Its core function is to prevent the bonded parties from harming one another.
Key Features:
There is no explicit penalty for breaking the pact, but it magically enforces non-aggression.
A physical token anchors the pact. Destroying it can break the bond, though doing so may cause physical or mental harm.
The pact emphasizes emotional and spiritual ties, and is typically made between individuals with a deep connection.