In front of Neville stood a different kind of Slytherin.
Neville recognized him. He was the one Ron had mentioned in their dormitory—a person even worse than Malfoy.
Thinking of Malfoy made Neville shiver involuntarily.
Seeing this, Ino couldn't help but sigh.
He reached into his robe pocket and took out a berry he had saved from the valley.
"Look, I've even got the seeds ready—these berries."
He placed the berry in his palm and showed it to Neville.
Ino didn't invite Neville to taste it, not because he was stingy, but because in the wizarding world, eating food from a stranger was extremely dangerous.
Inviting Neville to taste it might actually scare him more.
Neville stared blankly at the green berry in the open palm in front of him for a long time.
"It's a bit like a fig, but I've never seen it before, so I'm not sure," Neville said softly. Feeling his answer was too vague, he quickly added, "But plants like this generally prefer cool, moist environments. You might want to get some soil from the edge of the Black Lake."
Neville spoke in a halting voice, then quickly lowered his head again, like a child afraid of being scolded for saying something wrong.
But Ino had no intention of giving up. Instead, he exaggerated his gratitude.
"Thank you, buddy! That's a big help. By the way, I'm Ino, Ino Swinburne. As you can see, I'm also a Slytherin."
Faced with this sudden friendliness, Neville took a while to respond. After a moment, a weak voice emerged:
"I'm Neville Longbottom. I'm a Gryffindor."
Ino didn't mind his soft voice. He knew that for a kid bullied to near introversion, speaking at all was already a good sign.
"Can I call you Neville? You know, I have a lot of questions about gardening, and I might need to ask you for advice in the future."
"I'm not that knowledgeable," Neville said softly.
"I really don't know much. Even though I've been taking care of my grandmother's garden at home and the plants grow well, I don't have a lot of expertise."
After speaking, he cautiously raised his head, as if afraid of provoking anger with his words.
"Ha ha ha, that's more than enough! I'm not growing any rare herbs, just some berries," Ino said with a smile.
…
Half an hour later.
Ino was walking toward the castle, holding two ceramic flowerpots filled with moist soil.
He didn't chat much with Neville. Talking too much in their first conversation could be counterproductive.
Similarly, he didn't promise Neville anything, like stopping Malfoy's behavior.
The reason was simple: if Neville didn't change himself, even without Malfoy, there would be others in the future.
Human nature tends to classify peers into hierarchies, flattering those superior while finding someone weaker or easier to bully for amusement.
This is a common trait of fools and cannot be changed.
All Ino could do was help Neville regain his courage and confidence, nothing more.
After all, he couldn't take care of Neville forever.
With these thoughts in mind, Ino walked through the castle gate.
On his way, he attracted some attention.
Imagine a fair-skinned, handsome boy carrying two large flowerpots—it was quite a sight.
Of course, being the center of attention wasn't a big deal. People could look all they wanted; he couldn't control their gaze.
But the meaningful glances from some senior girls made him feel a bit uncomfortable.
Under such scrutiny, Ino quickened his pace.
"Pureblood!"
After saying the correct password to the stone wall and slipping into the Slytherin dormitory before the wall fully opened, Ino let out a breath.
However, before he could catch his breath, a crisp voice came from behind.
"Mr. Swinburne! What are you doing? Planning to grow plants?"
…
In a corner of the common room.
Pansy Parkinson sat idly on the sofa, chatting with a few girls she deemed worthy of friendship.
The topics among girls were not much different from those among boys. Besides the latest gossip in the castle, they mostly talked about boys.
But everything came to a halt when Ino entered the common room, lighting up everyone's eyes, though no one made any further moves.
This illustrated the inherent hierarchy within Slytherin. Just as in the original story, Malfoy's social circle was limited, not because others were unwilling, but because the strict hierarchy was deeply ingrained. Unless they became followers, being friends or dating on equal footing was hard.
Just like now.
In the corner group, only Pansy stood up to greet him.
Upon hearing her voice, Ino stopped and turned slowly.
"Good afternoon, Miss Parkinson."
"Are you planning to grow plants?" Pansy asked curiously.
"They can't get sunlight in the dormitory, but I have a book about the sunlight charm at home. I could lend it to you."
Such polite curiosity always made people feel good.
Of course, Ino hadn't forgotten Pansy's domineering attitude when she reprimanded Goyle.
But that had nothing to do with him. Pansy had always been polite to him.
With that in mind, Ino decided to accept her offer.
"If you don't mind, that would be great! Thank you for your generosity, Miss Parkinson."
"Haha, just wait for my news. By Christmas at the latest."
Pansy's response was surprising. Despite offering something, it felt like she was the one receiving a favor, making the situation seem odd.
But Ino didn't bother to guess her intentions.
It was probably about leveraging his shared dormitory with Malfoy for future help or information—nothing significant.
"Thank you in advance then. I'll prepare a Christmas gift for you. But for now, I need to place these in my dormitory."
Ino said, looking at the flowerpots in his arms, clearly indicating his intent.
"Go ahead! Plant the seeds first. I'll write to my family soon and won't keep you waiting long."
…
In his dormitory.
Ino stared at the two ceramic flowerpots on the table, lost in thought.
Today's experiences felt surreal. From his morning conversation with Professor Flitwick after Charms class, to the encounter with Quirrell near the Forbidden Forest, and then discovering Neville by the greenhouse.
One event after another. It felt like he had experienced more today than in the past month combined.
___