Chapter 435: Hot Spring Cabin

"Let's go, let's go!"

Seeing the train pull into the station, Hermione's eyes lit up; she grabbed John's hand and hurried into the carriage.

They boarded the train together and arrived at their reserved private compartment.

Although they had taken the train to Hogwarts once every year before.

But this time they were heading in a completely different direction, so Hermione found the outside scenery especially novel.

The train began to move slowly, and the platform outside started to slide backwards.

Hermione leaned by the window, watching the London streetscape drift away behind her.

Soon they arrived at a vast white snowfield, with nothing much to see.

So the two began planning their further itinerary.

Hermione pulled a thick travel guide from her bag, obviously having prepared in advance.

As expected of her.

"After reaching the port, we'll take a ship straight to Bergen; we should spend a night on board and can watch the sunrise over the sea."

"After arriving in Bergen, we'll take a day's sightseeing train heading north; it's said that along the way we can see snow‑capped mountains and waterfalls, with particularly spectacular scenery."

"Entering the Arctic Circle and reaching Tromsø, that place is one of the best spots for viewing the aurora."

"We can stay there for a week, and on the return we can just Apparate back."

Seeing Hermione eagerly planning, John leaned back in his chair, smiling as he watched her.

"I'll follow your lead."

Hermione closed the travel guide satisfied, then opened another booklet on Norwegian folklore to see what fun places there were.

Along the way the train moved smoothly across the snowfield, occasionally passing through tunnels, making the light inside the carriage flicker.

Hermione grew tired from reading, so she leaned on John's shoulder, closed her eyes, and rested.

Enjoying the tranquility and warmth of the journey.

By noon they arrived at the port city, where a sea breeze laden with salty dampness blew in their faces.

Hermione took a deep breath, and her spirits were lifted.

After lunch, they leisurely made their way to the dock and boarded the ferry bound for Bergen.

The ferry wasn't large, but it was clean and not crowded.

They had booked a small cabin with a porthole; two bunks stood side by side, and outside the window lay a gray‑blue sea.

As soon as Hermione boarded, she eagerly pulled John to the bow to look at the sea.

The sea wind was strong, tossing her hair about wildly, but she didn't mind, squinting at the distant horizon where sea met sky.

"How beautiful." she whispered softly, her voice half carried away by the sea wind.

John stood beside her, reaching out to tidy the hair the wind had tousled; his fingertips inadvertently brushed her cool cheek.

Hermione turned her head to look at John, her smile blooming like a flower.

You say, wouldn't it be good if we made this an annual trip?

"Sure, but next time it'll be my turn to plan the trip."

John laughed, and Hermione laughed too, her eyes crescent moons: "Then I'll have to look forward to it."

Northern Norway.

The night in Tromsø falls earlier than in London.

Just past three in the afternoon, the sky was already completely dark.

But this darkness does not feel oppressive.

Because it's far from the city, the sky here is ablaze with extraordinarily brilliant starlight, as if someone had scattered a handful of crushed diamonds across a velvet‑like night curtain.

After a night's voyage and a day's train ride, they finally arrived at this small town within the Arctic Circle.

Although the journey was tiring, fortunately the scenery along the way did not disappoint their expectations.

John and Hermione trudged through the soft snow, their exhalations instantly forming white mist in the air.

They were walking toward a small log cabin not far away.

That was the lodging John had booked in advance.

A typical Nordic log cabin, its roof covered with thick snow, warm yellow light spilling from the windows.

Behind the house rose a plume of white steam—a geothermal hot spring.

The cabin was built specifically beside the hot spring.

"What luck—I didn't expect there to be an available hot‑spring cabin."

Walking ahead, Hermione saw their little cabin and exclaimed delightedly.

"Yeah, maybe Father Christmas left it especially for us."

John followed behind Hermione, watching her lively steps, and couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Hmph, looks like this Father Christmas knows how to pull a fast one." Arriving at the cabin, Hermione glanced at John with a meaningful smile.

John didn't respond to that, merely laughing as he pushed open the cabin door.

A wave of warmth washed over them; the fireplace crackled, making the whole room cozy and comfortable.

The cabin wasn't large, but it was furnished with great care.

Thick reindeer‑skin rugs lay on the wooden floor, a few candles sat on the windowsill, and the walls hung with several oil paintings depicting the aurora.

In the corner stood a wide wooden bed, piled with a thick down quilt.

As soon as Hermione entered, she eagerly shed her heavy down jacket, flung herself onto the bed and rolled over, letting out a satisfied sigh: "So comfortable~"

At that moment the fatigue of the journey seemed to be soaked up by that soft bed.

This is also one of the meanings of travel: after enduring a long trek, one finally reaches a place where one can completely relax.

It can instantly bring complete relaxation and satisfaction.

After simply packing up their luggage, the two finally relaxed.

John walked to the window and looked outside.

Outside the window, the snow field under starlight glowed with a faint blue light.

The outlines of distant mountains flickered in and out of view in the night; the whole world was so quiet that only the crackling of firewood in the fireplace and the bubbling of the hot spring behind the house could be heard.

Even after experiencing so many sights and adventures in the Magical World, one still couldn't help but stop to admire the scenery before them.

Hermione somehow came up behind John, grabbed him from behind in a hug, and pressed her cheek against his broad back.

After enjoying beautiful scenery all the way, they finally arrived at this warm little nest, and Hermione's voice carried a hint of laziness and satisfaction.

"John, let's go soak in the hot spring together~"

Her little face was flushed, her eyes shimmering with shy anticipation.

John turned around, gently put his arm around her waist, and said with a smile.

"What's the rush? The night is still long."

Hermione became even more embarrassed by his words, burying her face in John's chest.

It was rare that she didn't retort to John's obviously teasing remark.

The warm cottage, the romantic night sky, the misty hot spring, and the person beside her who made her heart flutter.

Everything was just right.

It allowed Hermione to relax completely, letting go of all her defenses and rationality.

Her heart and eyes were filled only with the image of the person before her.

She rose onto her tiptoes, lightly pressed a kiss on John's lips, then blushed, turned, and ran toward the hot spring, leaving behind a string of silver‑bell‑like laughter.

John watched her joyful retreating figure, his lips unconsciously curling up, and he followed her at a leisurely pace.

The hot spring's steam rose beneath the stars, the misty vapor enveloping the two figures.

The brilliant Milky Way stretched across the sky, as if spilling over the endless mountains beyond.

In the tranquil night, only the sound of water lapping against the pool walls and their intertwined breaths could be heard.