There is a saying that holds a lot of truth: things that are overly contrived are never perfect.
Ino's original intention was simply to let these young wizards freely unleash their creativity.
To put it plainly, this was a universal trait among children. Whether they were Muggles or wizards, they were all the same. They possessed their own imaginations, their own unique perceptions of beauty, and this sense of beauty was contagious.
...
Reclining on a soft lounge chair, Ino quietly flipped through the fairy tale in his hands, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the distant horizon.
It was a boundless expanse of azure, pure and vast without a single trace of impurity. Just looking at it was enough to clear the mind.
About two hours passed.
He slowly closed his book. With a mere thought, over a dozen paper airplanes materialized out of thin air around him.
After a brief pause, the paper airplanes glided in graceful arcs, scattering into the distance.
...
A short while later.
"Take a break, everyone, or Headmistress McGonagall will think I am exploiting student labor."
The half-joking remark drew a chorus of laughter from the young wizards who had just hurried back.
"Professor, this is consensual and perfectly legal labor!" rang out a mature, insightful voice from the crowd.
The speaker was the current fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, Joseph Tonks, a half-blood wizard.
Ino found this student particularly memorable because he could always catch glimpses of Percy Weasley in the boy's demeanor.
Despite coming from a half-blood family, Tonks's witch mother seemingly did not live in the magical world. This was evident from his second-hand robes.
In truth, Madam Malkin's robes were not exceptionally expensive. With the historical exception of the Weasley family, anyone with a household member working in the magical world could afford the basic school necessities.
"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Tonks," Ino nodded noncommittally, then smoothly shifted the topic.
"However, we cannot rely on practical work alone. Theoretical knowledge is just as crucial. The introduction to Mechanical Magic involves crafting magic lamps, but I do not want you graduating knowing only that, nor do I want you ending up as mere repairmen at the Ministry of Magic."
Ino's words brought a lively cheer to the atmosphere once again.
"Let us begin. Make the most of this time to discuss, and we will head back to the castle before noon."
Taking in the lively mood, Ino waved his hand. A thick, cream-colored canvas suddenly appeared on the lush grassy meadow.
Spread across the canvas, which covered over twenty square meters, were various simple candies, snacks, and a large pot of freshly brewed black tea.
The scene looked less like an academic club discussion and more like a teacher-student camping trip.
Aside from the newcomers who had only joined this year, the rest of the young wizards were entirely unfazed.
After all, the Mechanical Magic Club was famous for being relaxed. Every gathering felt more like playtime.
...
A vast expanse of green grass stretched out before them, with majestic snow-capped mountains in the distance.
Beneath the clear blue sky, everyone spoke freely and without restraint.
It made sense. Looking at their ages, it was a group of fourteen- and fifteen-year-olds alongside a twenty-three-year-old professor.
They were officially students and a teacher, but in reality, they were much more like friends.
As noon approached, Ino wrapped up the week's gathering despite everyone's lingering enthusiasm.
Too much of a good thing could become a bad thing; that was the principle he followed.
Though he could easily extend the meeting for the entire day, or even through the whole weekend, he chose not to.
During their student years, they should be out enjoying the myriad pleasures that belonged to this specific time in their lives.
Otherwise, these dozen or so students would focus solely on their small, isolated circle and miss out on the beautiful scenery around them.
That was the last thing he wanted to happen.
...
By half past eleven.
After Fide had safely escorted all the students back to the castle, Ino departed from the Shrieking Shack on foot.
Truth be told, while Hogwarts was considered a closed boarding school, its fundamental purpose was to protect the students. Moreover, the castle's rules allowed for a very humane level of freedom.
This was clearly evident in how third-year wizards and above were permitted to freely visit Hogsmeade.
If the students had such liberties, the professors naturally had even more.
Aside from a few Heads of Houses who were perpetually busy, elective professors like him rarely stayed inside the castle over the weekend.
His walk took about ten minutes.
Approaching on foot, Ino could already see a beautiful silhouette waiting outside the manor from a distance.
At twenty-three, she seemed to be at the perfect crossroads of youth and maturity.
Women at this age possessed a unique kind of beauty. It was an aura shaped by time yet retaining its innocence, holding a subtle depth of untold stories.
Her long brown hair gleamed with a natural luster, much like the richest chocolate melting beneath the warm autumn sun. The tresses cascaded casually over her shoulders, and occasionally, a few stray strands would gently brush against her fair cheeks, adding a touch of effortless charm.
The slightly curled tips of her hair carried a relaxed yet elegant flair.
Her delicate, well-defined features looked like a masterpiece meticulously carved by a master sculptor.
In particular, the deep eyes beneath her brown fringe resembled two bottomless pools of water, sparkling with a mixture of wisdom and mystery.
She wore a simple yet elegant white blouse, perfectly tailored to highlight her graceful figure.
On her feet was a pair of white high-heeled leather boots. The heels were just the right height to elongate her legs, making her appear even more poised and elegant.
Overall, the twenty-three-year-old Hermione radiated an aura of authority alongside her mature beauty and gentle demeanor.
This imposing presence stemmed directly from her profession: the youngest Inquisitor of the Wizengamot.
Yet today, this formidable Inquisitor displayed none of her usual strictness. Standing quietly outside the manor with a slight, upward curve to her lips, she looked exactly like a loving wife waiting for her husband to return home.
...
"I told you not to wait for me at the door!"
Upon spotting Hermione from afar, Ino immediately quickened his pace.
"But I wanted to wait. Besides, do you really have to schedule your club meetings on the weekends?"
Hermione pursed her lips, her tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction.
Because of the nature of her work, they rarely saw each other as it was. To make matters worse, her husband had to host his club on weekends, cutting their already brief two nights together squarely in half.
"Don't worry, it will be fine once the holidays arrive. We can go on a trip then. How does the Arad Continent sound?"
Knowing he was in the wrong, Ino chose not to argue and smoothly changed the subject.
Hearing this, Hermione stopped fussing over the club. After all, what was done was done, and complaining further would not change anything.
She was far more interested in the prospect of a trip anyway. After a moment of thought, she spoke up.
"Then I want to go see the Behemoth this time. I am getting completely bored of always staying in Hendon Myre."
Ino did not refuse Hermione's suggestion.
Back then, he had primarily chosen to stay in Hendon Myre to get his hands on Loton's Disassembler.
After so many years, he had long since acquired the knowledge needed to build the Disassembler. Now, all he lacked was the quiet time to actually construct it.
"Alright! We will do as you say and visit the Behemoth. If we have enough time, we could even head to Mount Thunderime."
Upon hearing his promise, the smile on Hermione's face grew even brighter.
Within that smile lay a hidden, intimate meaning, one that only the closest of partners could truly understand.
Ino read the subtle hint effortlessly and took Hermione's hand in his.
"We still have a whole hour before lunch. There is plenty of time!"