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It was clear that Dumbledore had realized this earlier. When he heard Ian's response, the old headmaster showed no surprise, only a calm nod.
Ian's words seemed to confirm Dumbledore's suspicions.
But compared to the headmaster's composure, Ian's thoughts were far more tangled. When it came to Riddle, Ian couldn't help but feel uneasy. He turned to Dumbledore and asked,
"Will this influence history?" Almost unconsciously, his gaze fell upon the oil painting hanging on the wall, as he was worried that Riddle might have altered history entirely in the past.
"This painting is a clue Albus and I found while searching for where you had fallen." Nicolas Flamel followed Ian's gaze and explained softly.
His fingers brushed gently along the painting's frame. His eyes were tinged with emotion, and his tone was laced with a faint sigh. "It was hidden away in a long-sealed temple."
Looking back at the young wizard, the Alchemy Master's eyes now carried undisguised admiration.
"Ian, you have done something extraordinary." Flamel could easily tell what scene the painting depicted, and Ian's experience left him sincerely awed. In truth, ever since realizing moments ago that Ian had become a legend, Flamel had struggled to find fitting words to describe the boy's accomplishments.
A twelve-year-old legend.
One who had defeated a dark Legendary Wizard that countless people feared to speak of.
Such an achievement was nothing short of breathtaking.
"I suppose that must count as some kind of change or distortion of history, right?" Ian's eyes lingered on the painting for a moment before shifting back to Nicolas Flamel and Dumbledore.
The old headmaster did not reply.
He only glanced at his old friend beside him.
Nicolas Flamel smiled faintly, a glimmer of deep wisdom flashing in his eyes.
"Whether it's distortion or change depends on how you view history. Perhaps everything has already happened, we are only seeing it now because you finished writing the story of history."
As he spoke, he drew a heavy tome from the bookshelf and handed it to Ian. Ian accepted it; the gilded letters on the cover glinted faintly under the lamplight.
It was a history book written by the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler. Opening the pages, Ian's eyes fell upon a section Nicolas Flamel had folded down, an entry about the ancient city of Pompeii.
And there,
The book described the history he remembered:
Pompeii had vanished.
Scholars and sailors speculated that it disappeared in a volcanic eruption.
Yet this book presented an alternative theory that contradicted the mainstream view. It claimed that certain wizard scholars believed the original city of Pompeii had been relocated due to a catastrophe. Yes, after the volcanic eruption, the old Pompeii had been moved elsewhere, and the city that later "disappeared" was not the original Pompeii at all.
This perspective genuinely astonished Ian.
It was no different from the history he remembered.
Yet, upon further reflection, it had a peculiar quality that was hard to describe.
Perhaps I should know where the original Pompeii finally went. Ian thought suddenly, his mind unbiddenly conjuring the image of the sunken city he had once seen in The Twilight Zone.
At that moment,
"What troubles you most now is the fear that Riddle might influence history, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked softly, his voice calm as though he could see straight through Ian's thoughts.
"Yes."
Ian nodded.
"There's no need to be so tense." Dumbledore said, giving a small wave of his hand. He wore his usual air of composure and serenity.
His gaze was deep and steady as he continued to speak. "Ian, history is like a river, endlessly surging forward with its own current. We cannot fully control it nor foresee every bend in its course. But one thing is certain, so long as the source of the tide has not touched us, nothing has been set in stone."
As he spoke, his eyes shifted briefly toward Ian, a flicker of profound meaning flashing within them. However, why the old headmaster was so certain remained unclear.
"What do you mean by that?" Ian ventured cautiously. But Dumbledore had already turned, resting a hand on Ian's shoulder.
"Don't worry."
Dumbledore's voice was as gentle as ever yet carried a particular charm. "I will resolve this trouble. Leave the rest to me."
When he spoke, his expression was utterly resolute and his voice was steady and powerful, as though it were imbued with magic.
"Yes, Professor." Looking at Dumbledore, Ian felt the taut string in his chest finally slacken. A wave of inexplicable reassurance washed over him.
That was the unique charm of Albus Dumbledore.
Everyone who had come to Hogwarts knew that Dumbledore's assurances always brought peace of mind. With him present, any problem could be solved.
Rubbing his brow lightly, Ian, now at ease, could finally begin to sort through his experiences.
"Professor," he asked suddenly, curiosity lacing his voice. "I've always wanted to know...how were you and Professor Flamel able to locate me with such precision?"
Ian had only seen the oil painting related to Pompeii, not anything that might have linked him to the age of King Arthur.
He was a Ravenclaw student, after all.
For him, the unknown and the pursuit of knowledge were fascinating.
Hearing this, Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel exchanged a glance, a trace of amusement flickering in their eyes.
"You're a clever child, Ian," Dumbledore said. "But you've overlooked an important detail."
"What detail?" Ian pressed, his curiosity sparkling in his eyes.
Dumbledore did not answer directly. Instead, his gaze shifted toward the ancient Time Turner hanging around Ian's neck.
Ian lowered his head to look at the golden device in his hand, then followed Dumbledore's gaze toward the massive clock behind him. Embedded in its face was a Time Turner identical to the one he held.
"This, "
A realization struck him.
Hurrying forward, Ian studied the clock's Time Turner closely. Every detail was exactly the same as his own, even the wear and tear in certain spots. It was far too uncanny to be a coincidence.
To test the impossible thought forming in his mind, Ian instinctively drew his wand and scratched a small mark onto his Time Turner. Then, without blinking, he looked up at the great clock.
Sure enough,
The embedded Time Turner also bore the exact same scratch.
"This is...truly peculiar." Ian murmured, his eyes gleaming.
"Yes, very peculiar," Dumbledore said from behind him.
"But it certainly isn't a coincidence."
The old headmaster's tone carried a note of wonder.
At those words, Ian's heart gave a sudden jolt. A thought flashed through his mind. Looking at Dumbledore, he spoke aloud. "I think there's someone who can give us the answer."
As he said it, the image of a younger student, his former dormitory neighbor, came vividly to mind.
"Oh?"
Dumbledore arched his brows, interest flickering in his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't expected Ian to say such a thing. Even Nicolas Flamel was staring at Ian in surprise.
"It seems you know something we do not," Flamel said, his tone tinged with excitement.
"Is it dangerous?"
There was no hesitation in his voice, only eager anticipation.
"Guaranteed win," Ian replied evasively.
How to put it,
Confidence came naturally to him.
He wasn't afraid of one-on-one; let alone two-on-one, or even three-on-one. Thinking of that, Ian found himself wondering, had Grindelwald also become a Legendary Wizard?
(End of Chapter)