It was the only rational conclusion.
As anxious as he was, Snape didn't dare abandon the now-paralyzed Hermione. He lifted her swiftly off the ground; any large predator in the Forbidden Forest would view a first-year witch as a convenient meal.
"Hss--" Hermione gasped, wincing as Snape's grip tightened painfully on her arm. Her bones felt like they might crack. Then she noticed it: his billowing robes had somehow begun to dissolve into a roiling mass of black mist. Within the vapor, faint gleams of light flickered, like a serpent's tongue glinting in the dark.
"This is—" Hermione tried to ask, but her voice was instantly shredded by the sudden, howling wind.
"This is not the time for questions!" Snape's voice was a harsh, razor-edged screech, like metal grinding against metal, a rusty blade scraping across Miss Know-it-all's eardrums.
Even as he spoke, his wand flickered through the swirling fog, and his black robes surged like a living thing until his whole figure melted into a terrifying cloud of black vapor.
Hermione instantly clamped her mouth shut, her heart hammering. She had never seen such magic, wizards could turn into black mist and fly? This was entirely beyond anything in her textbooks!
Before her curiosity could take hold, the black mist coiled around her and swept her up into the air. She wasn't wrapped or bound; the mist simply felt like an invisible hand within it had seized her by the collar, that familiar, uncomfortable spot on her back collar.
Snape must have become accustomed to grabbing Ian the same way. For Hermione, it was a terrifyingly new experience: one moment her feet were on the ground, the next she was being hauled into the sky at dizzying speed.
"Ah—!"
The rushing air tore at her hair, whipping it wildly as she was carried forward, fully enveloped by the black mist. She had never experienced such a strange form of flight.
Even when Ian had Transfigured a flying carpet to carry her, it hadn't felt this bizarre. Now, Hermione felt as if she were bundled inside freezing silk, her breath coming shallow and slow, her lungs stuffed with damp cotton.
"Quiet!" Snape's voice, low, sharp, and commanding, came from within the mist. He was flying while holding her fast. "Unless you wish to fall to your death and be scattered in pieces, do not move."
At the sound of her Potions Professor's lethal warning, Hermione froze like a frightened quail. Not daring to twitch, she could only tremble softly in his grasp.
Snape wasn't just flying fast; he flew high, soaring to gain a better vantage point. Beneath them, the treetops rolled by like turbulent green waves, sweeping backward in a blur. He flew straight toward the source of the roar.
The massive, sickly white webs of the Acromantulas loomed faintly below, yet those fearsome creatures, usually so aggressively noisy, were eerily silent. The wind screamed past Hermione's ears as Snape abruptly descended. Only then did she realize that the once-bustling Forbidden Forest had fallen into a deathly stillness.
No hooting of night owls. No soft rustle of unicorn hooves. Even the ever-present Devil's Snare vines had curled tightly into the shadows. It was as if every living thing had vanished in an instant.
Or perhaps, they were all hiding. Hiding from something unspeakably terrible.
The black mist streaked through the forest with astonishing speed, tree shadows blurring past on both sides. Yet the deeper they flew, the more Hermione sensed a terrible wrongness.
"It's… too quiet." Her voice sounded shockingly loud in the silence, like a pebble dropped into a bottomless well.
And indeed, it was utterly still.
The farther Snape flew, the fewer plants could be seen. Even the magical herbs usually abundant in the forest, the ones useful for potions, had completely vanished.
And not just the plants. Even insects, beetles, mosquitoes, were gone without a trace. This was absolutely not normal.
"Professor…" Hermione spoke in a small, trembling whisper. "What's going on here?"
Unease coiled in her chest. She hoped Snape might have an answer, but he didn't reply. Still, Hermione felt it: the flow of the black mist around them had briefly faltered.
Clearly, even the Potions Master had noticed this impossible abnormality. No matter how powerful a creature's territory was, it should never be so utterly lifeless, with not a single ant to be found in it.
The Forbidden Forest was supposed to be teeming with many creatures. Now, there was nothing but silence. Even the faintest chirp was gone, as if all life had either perished or perhaps never existed at all.
"Something's wrong." A flicker of unease, a pure fear of the unknown, stirred in Snape's own heart. He couldn't comprehend what had happened in this part of the forest.
Once full of life, it now seemed to have had its very soul sucked out, leaving only a hollow shell of stillness. Even the countless trees appeared drained of life, mere shapes without substance. Like shadows. Or fragile mirages.
Yes, Snape's eyes, sharper than either Hermione's or Ian's, quickly picked out the truth. The black mist that had been his form descended abruptly to the ground and condensed into his solid shape once more.
The movement was sudden, but controlled. Snape landed with perfect steadiness.
Hermione, however, was not so lucky. The moment he let her go, inertia sent her stumbling forward, and she fell flat onto the ground. Her delicate face was instantly smeared with dirt, turning her into a genuine little "mud person."
Flushed with embarrassment and indignation, she scrambled up, about to demand whether Snape had dropped her on purpose… but when she turned, she froze.
Snape's expression was grave.
His attention wasn't on her at all. There was no hint of mockery, no intention to sneer at her misfortune. He strode quickly toward a large tree, his eyes fixed on it with an intensity that made Hermione's stomach twist. Whatever he was seeing clearly defied belief.
It was obvious. Even this professor couldn't make sense of what was happening. Only now did Hermione realize that Snape wasn't being careless; he was simply in too much of a hurry. And what could possibly be more urgent than finding Ian?
Carefully, she followed him.
When she looked in the same direction as the Potions Master, she saw it too; the tree branches weren't moving. Not even slightly. The faint breeze that rustled Hermione's hair didn't so much as stir a single leaf. It was as if the trees weren't interacting with the world at all.
It was utterly bizarre and completely unnatural.
Hermione's heartbeat quickened, a cold, nameless dread creeping up her spine.
"Professor… what… what is this?" Her instincts screamed that this was something terrible.
And indeed, it was.
"I've never encountered anything like this before," Snape said at last, his tone low and grave. "I've never even heard of such a phenomenon. These trees, no, not just the trees, the entire environment we're in right now…"
He lifted his wand and tapped the trunk of a nearby tree. Nothing happened. No vibration. No resistance. Not even a sound.
"They aren't real," Snape said finally, withdrawing his wand, his expression dark and heavy.
"None of this is real."
(End of Chapter)
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