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Dead leaves crunched beneath Snape's boots in an odd way, like stepping on countless tiny, fragile bones. The faint light from his wand barely illuminated the path ahead. The dense trees appeared completely lifeless, as though the forest were made entirely of dull, cold blocks.
There was simply no trace of vitality.
The closer he looked, the stranger things became: the trees were arranged too neatly; the rhythm of the non-existent wind was perfectly uniform; and the soil underfoot lacked the natural dampness and the telltale signs of small creatures that should have been there.
This was clearly not what the actual Forbidden Forest looked like.
"What do you mean it's not a real forest?" Hermione whispered. Although she also sensed that something was terribly wrong, she could not grasp the full meaning of Snape's words.
"Fool," Snape muttered under his breath, his voice unusually strained. "We've been trapped in some kind of separate space. I didn't even notice when it happened; it crept in silently and affected us. It's powerful spatial magic; a force that can contain an enormous area within itself.'
Although he couldn't imagine what kind of wizard or creature could wield such power, Snape at least understood the immediate situation. Cold sweat tracked down the back of his neck and soaked into his collar.
Hermione gasped sharply. "There's magic like that?!" None of the books she had devoured had mentioned anything even remotely similar.
"The wizarding world is far beyond your pathetic imagination, first-year brat." Snape clenched his jaw, partly out of anger and partly to suppress the true unease and turmoil gnawing at his heart.
"What should we do now?" Hermione felt useless, utterly lost in this unfamiliar field of knowledge. She was the brains of their trio, but even she had her limits.
What was happening here was far beyond the comprehension of any first-year student... likely even most older wizards wouldn't fare much better. After all, not all knowledge was printed in school textbooks.
"The only thing we can do is get out, fast!" Snape said abruptly, having come to a decision. Glancing at the girl beside him, he doubted his ability to protect her, let alone handle this monstrosity.
Even if the first-year hadn't been with him, Snape doubted he could solve this mess alone. This kind of magic was terrifying, almost unnatural.
"Move!" He grabbed Hermione by the wrist.
"But what about Ian? He needs our help!" Hermione's voice wavered with confusion and panic. She twisted around to look at the dark depths of the forest, her eyes full of worry.
A complicated light flickered in Snape's eyes. "This is already beyond what we can handle. Staying here will decide whether one of us dies or all three of us die." His tone was still cold, but Hermione noticed the faint tremor in his fingers. Clearly, even for the Potions Professor, this was not an easy decision.
"I can't worry about him right now!" He snapped. "We need to find Dumbledore, hopefully in time. Let's hope that damn brat's luck holds out long enough for Dumbledore to deal with this mess himself!"
Black mist surged up once more. Hermione felt herself enveloped in the chilling magical power, as though invisible hands were squeezing her organs. The roar of the wind filled her ears, mingled with a deep, vibrating hum like countless bees beating their wings at once.
It was the strangest and most uncomfortable form of flight she had ever experienced. Even after the first time, her body couldn't adapt.
"But we can't just abandon him! Can we?" Hermione struggled within the black mist; the force of the magic tugged painfully at her hair.
Perhaps Snape was pulling it himself, though. Who could really say for sure? He was exactly the kind of man who'd do something like that just to shut a student up.
"This level of spatial magic, only a handful of wizards could possibly cast it! Staying here will just add two more names to the death list. We can't save anyone, and dying here won't change a thing!" Snape's voice was sharp with anger and irritation, though it wasn't clear whether he was angry with Hermione or something else entirely. His thoughts were racing as he assessed the situation.
It wasn't just a matter of experience. There was also a difference in how men and women instinctively thought: Women were often more emotional by nature, while men tended to be more rational.
It was a simple truth shaped by evolution: emotional women and logical men were the result of humanity's long biological history.
For millennia, men had faced external dangers while women tended the home. Because of this evolutionary path, when facing danger, Snape's thoughts would spread wider than a woman's.
If Professor McGonagall were present, she would probably protect Hermione first and then set out alone to rescue the others.
But Snape was different. He knew perfectly well that such a decision would not succeed. The only way to give Harry a chance of survival was to find the one person who could solve this problem: Dumbledore.
This sense of urgency made Snape fly even faster, which is why Hermione found this flight even more dreadful than the last. She wanted to argue, but the deathly silence of the Forbidden Forest choked her words.
They felt as though they had been flying forever, yet they still hadn't escaped the still, dead air.
Snape had realized it, too.
The scenery of the Forbidden Forest streamed backward through the mist, but the further they flew, the darker Snape's expression became. No matter which direction they went, there seemed to be no way out of this dead, suffocating labyrinth.
"Damn it!"
Snape's furious curse made Hermione jump. Before she could ask what was happening, the black mist around them suddenly froze. Snape's figure solidified again, dropping to the ground.
Hermione stumbled when they landed, but this time, she didn't fall. She was ready for it now.
"I thought we were going to find Dumbledore?" She asked with a confused expression on her face while looking up at Snape, who stood completely still, his gaze locked ahead. His expression was grim.
Following his line of sight, Hermione gasped.
Charred tree trunks stood twisted and blackened, faint red embers flickering in the ashes. It was the very same clearing they had passed half an hour ago. The air still reeked of Fiendfyre and scorched wood, mingled with the damp, decaying smell of fallen leaves, sickening and heavy.
They were back in the burned clearing.
"Professor… did we just circle back?" Hermione asked, the unease in her voice turning to cold dread. Snape had been flying at great speed; by now they should have reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Why had they ended up here again?
The Potions Professor didn't answer. He didn't have the focus left for that.
(To Be Continued…)