The Potions Professor didn't answer. He didn't have the focus left for that.
"This is impossible…" Snape muttered hoarsely under his breath. His voice was so low it was almost a growl. He swept his gaze around, then flicked his wand. The fallen leaves scattered away under an invisible force, revealing a trail of footprints in the soil.
The very same footprints they had left behind before.
Yes.
They could even see the exact tracks from when the two of them had stood there earlier, completely shattering any hope that they'd simply arrived at a similar spot.
Hermione stared at the tracks, her throat tightening with fear. "Professor… did you get lost?"
"Lost?" Snape spun around so suddenly that the tip of his wand nearly jabbed her in the nose. The light from the wand cast his face in harsh shadows, making him look almost inhuman. He stalked along the edge of the scorched ground, each heavy step grinding dead leaves to dust, his irritation crackling in the air. "Miss Granger, do you think I'm one of you lot, a little troll who can't even find their way around the castle staircases?"
To be fair, Snape did have a remarkable talent for cutting sarcasm. Right now, though, he was in a truly foul mood, and since he'd never cared about appearances, he certainly wasn't about to start worrying about how Hermione saw him.
"Professor, I didn't mean…" Hermione's attempted explanation was cut short by a single, icy glare.
"Miss Granger," Snape's voice was sharp as a poisoned icicle, every word dripping with frost, "If your head is full of Gryffindor idiocy, then please, do us both a favor and shut your mouth."
He drew in a long, shaky breath, forcing himself to settle down. "I know exactly what's happening. You don't need to guess, and you don't need to lecture me. We're trapped inside a maze constructed by ancient magic. The paths shift and rearrange themselves according to our movements. In truth, we've probably been walking in circles within the same small area this entire time."
His brow furrowed tightly. "We're trapped." The words came through gritted teeth.
"Trapped?" Hermione's voice trembled. "Trapped by what?" Her face went pale in an instant.
"You're asking me? Who the hell am I supposed to ask!?" Snape snapped. He raised his wand and unleashed a violent surge of magic in one direction; countless lifeless trees exploded and toppled over, the sheer force of the blast venting a fraction of his growing fury.
The sight made Hermione flinch in terror. "Then what should we do?" she asked in a small voice.
Snape was silent for a long time, the wand rolling unconsciously in his palm.
"There's nothing we can do," He said at last, his tone low and rough, thick with frustration. "This is beyond anything I can handle. It isn't ordinary spatial magic; it's ancient magic. And my studies of ancient spells are… limited."
That last part wasn't entirely truthful. If he really knew so little, he wouldn't have been able to identify this enchantment so precisely. Compared to most modern wizards, Snape knew far more about ancient magic.
This was not only because he possessed a remarkable notebook once owned by a legendary sorcerer, but also because his potions expertise often required him to study fragments of ancient magical systems in order to understand ingredients, catalysts, and transmutation effects.
After all, Snape was a master of finding cheaper substitutes, and he couldn't have earned that title without a deep understanding of ancient lore.
It was precisely because he understood it that his sense of helplessness now cut so deeply.
"Damn it!" Snape wasn't the kind of man to sit and wait for death. A blinding light slashed through the darkness as his wand whipped through the air.
Dozens of towering ancient trees exploded in an instant. Shards of wood flew through the air like shrapnel, trunks splintered apart and the ground opened up into a long, blackened trench.
"What kind of magic is that!?" Hermione cried, covering her ears, her pupils shrinking in shock. She had never seen anything so fierce or violent; it felt as if even the air itself was being ripped to pieces.
Snape had no intention of answering. He simply continued to unleash his magic.
"BOOM!"
Snape was attempting to tear open a path using raw magical force.
However, he soon realised something horrifying.
The shattered remains of the trees suddenly froze in mid-air as though pulled by invisible threads. The splinters began to reassemble, the broken branches reattached themselves, and the charred bark peeled away to reveal smooth, new wood beneath.
Within moments, every tree that had been obliterated stood tall and unblemished once more, their leaves, branches, and roots restored to their original state, down to the position of the last fallen leaf.
That eerie, instantaneous restoration brought Snape's futile rage to an abrupt halt.
"Wh–what… what is going on?" Hermione's breathing nearly stopped as a cold chill crept down her spine.
"It means we're trapped here," Snape said grimly. "And there's no way out." His knuckles turned white around his wand. He swung it again, dark magic hissed out like a venomous serpent, and an entire section of forest ahead burst into roaring flames.
However, it was all useless. The fire couldn't even properly scorch those trees.
"Are… are we going to die here?" Hermione's voice was so small it was almost inaudible, yet in the deathly silence of the Forbidden Forest, it sounded painfully clear. Her heart had sunk lower than it ever had before.
"I don't know," Snape murmured, his eyes flickering faintly. "If we want to survive, we can only hope Dumbledore notices something's wrong and comes to rescue us." His tone carried a deep mix of anxiety and bitter frustration. It wasn't just worry for himself and Hermione, he feared that Ian was likely beyond saving as well.
"Doesn't Dumbledore usually go to bed early?" Hermione asked softly. She'd observed the old Headmaster's habits, and right now, her chances of surviving alongside the professor she despised seemed pitifully slim.
"Heh." Snape gave the little witch a sidelong glance. "That dragon's roar just now, the castle must have heard it. If we're lucky, he's already on his way. Never underestimate our Headmaster's sensitivity to even the faintest disturbance."
One had to admit, this man's faith in Albus Dumbledore remained unshakable.
However, just as his words faded, a calm, familiar voice spoke from behind him.
"Severus, were you waiting for me to come rescue you?"
That unmistakable voice made both Snape and Hermione whip around instantly.
Dumbledore stepped out slowly from the shadows of the trees, the soft moonlight glinting off his half-moon spectacles. Behind them, his blue eyes carried a weary, knowing smile.
"I'm afraid," He said gently, "That I was trapped here long before you were."
Hermione's eyes went wide in shock, but even Snape's face twisted into an expression of utter disbelief.
"Impossible!" His voice trembled.
The thought was terrifying, Dumbledore himself, trapped? How could such a thing even exist in this world? It wasn't a loss of faith; it was the dawning realization that his beloved pupil, Ian, was, most likely, already beyond saving.
"There's no such thing as impossible," The Headmaster said softly, a tired but steady smile in his blue eyes that still shone like stars. "It seems we'll have to work together to unravel this ancient maze."
Despite his words, the old man didn't sound particularly worried at all.
(End of Chapter)
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