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Moonlight struggled to penetrate the Forbidden Forest, casting faint, pale shadows. The firsts around them looked like cheap toys crushed by invisible hands, their bark lined with unnaturally regular patterns, almost as if a single design had been poorly stamped onto every trunk.
This place felt chillingly lifeless, a world pieced together from uniform blocks, a mocking imitation of reality frozen in an eerie stillness.
Under the cold light, the silver-haired old man stood calmly, gripping the wand that symbolized his incredible power. The hem of his robes brushed the ground, and the decaying leaves beneath his feet dissolved like digital fragments, quietly fading into nothing.
"Headmaster Dumbledore!" Only now did Hermione let out a delayed gasp. Her wand nearly slipped from her grasp, and when she took a step back, the dry twig underfoot snapped with a sharp crack, not like wood, but like brittle plastic.
Almost immediately, the crushed fragment beneath her boot began to mend itself, reforming completely. This was different from the leaves under Dumbledore's feet, which had simply vanished.
Neither she nor Snape seemed capable of affecting this strange world at all. Perhaps it had something to do with the highest order of power, as Dumbledore hadn't even made an overt magical gesture while walking.
"How are you here?" Snape's voice carried a distinct note of suspicion as he regarded Dumbledore. His wand never wavered, not for a moment.
Perhaps it was Dumbledore's claim that he'd been trapped before them that had rattled Snape's perception of the man. Or perhaps it was his innate paranoia, the ingrained reflex of a double agent, that made him so unnervingly alert.
Whatever the reason, after the first shock passed, Snape did not immediately believe this was the real Albus Dumbledore.
After all, there were countless ways for someone to assume another's form. The most common was Polyjuice Potion, but there were also Animagus transformations, Protean Charms, and Metamorphmagus abilities. Snape knew them all well.
To Snape, an Albus Dumbledore suddenly appearing in the middle of this illusory forest was more than suspicious; it was profoundly unnatural. Even Hermione knew Dumbledore's usual habits; how could Snape not?
Even if the Headmaster had heard the dragon's roar, there was no way he could have arrived this quickly, and by sheer coincidence, at their exact location. That was why Snape, ever the overthinker, found it impossible to fully trust the man before him.
And Dumbledore, of course, sensed the suspicion immediately.
"Severus," He said mildly, "Do you still remember our agreement?" He didn't seem the least bit offended. After all, there were ways to prove one's identity that only Snape would understand.
"Of course I remember." Snape's eyes flickered slightly.
"Good. I hope you've been keeping your promise faithfully." Dumbledore smiled, his words as enigmatic as ever. Hermione, bewildered, looked between the two men with blank confusion, utterly lost by their cryptic exchange.
Yet, Snape let out a slow, quiet breath of relief.
"What are you doing here?" He finally asked. Having verified Dumbledore's identity through their secret code, he could relax somewhat. That secret agreement was known only to the two of them.
"I'm afraid it's rather embarrassing," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle. He lifted his half-moon spectacles, briefly polishing them, the blue eyes behind them glinting with intense curiosity. "Like you, I was drawn here by the strange tremors within the Forbidden Forest."
His voice was as smooth and mellow as honeyed mead, yet it stirred only deeper unease in Snape.
Snape's grip tightened on his wand, and his dark eyes shimmered with guarded suspicion.
"You just said that even you are trapped here… Do you mean even you can't break this kind of magic?" Snape asked, his voice tight. It was, undeniably, a thought that sent chills crawling down his spine.
After all, in his understanding, Albus Dumbledore was already the most powerful wizard in the world. If even he claimed he couldn't unravel it, then who in this world possibly could? And if such magic existed, what kind of terrifying being could have cast it in the first place? The more Snape thought about it, the more profound dread filled his chest.
Hermione, in contrast, was merely stunned, simply because she lacked the full weight of understanding the current situaton. She was, after all, a young witch who had only just entered the magical world.
Her knowledge of Albus Dumbledore came entirely from books and stories, like a student reading about an incredible national leader without ever having seen that power firsthand.
She knew Dumbledore was strong, the strongest wizard alive, but the notion of Dumbledore being "all-powerful" hadn't yet solidified for her. You could see that clearly: Hermione respected Dumbledore deeply but never truly saw him as infallible.
"So what kind of situation are we in now, Professors?" Hermione asked anxiously. Dumbledore's presence comforted her somewhat, after all, books said Albus Dumbledore was both the most powerful and the most dependable.
"This place feels like… a hidden realm of sorts," Dumbledore said at last. "Whatever it is, it's not magic as we know it."
The air seemed to freeze around them.
"What do you mean?" Snape's tone carried an uncharacteristic edge of urgency.
"Look there." Dumbledore gestured toward the forest ahead. The bark patterns on every tree were eerily identical, as if copied and pasted by some lazy hand.
"Something created this place," He said quietly. "But it isn't strong enough to replicate our reality fully; it can only produce this rough, hollow imitation of it."
He paused, his blue eyes gleaming faintly behind his spectacles.
"Whatever it is… it must have only just awakened."
Those words made Snape's unease deepen. "Awakened? What's awakening?" he demanded.
Hermione's breathing quickened. "You mean this might be… some kind of supernatural phenomenon?" Before Hogwarts, she'd probably read books like Unsolved Mysteries of the World, and Dumbledore's tone made her think they were now part of one. (Of course, wizards themselves were supernatural beings.)
"That," Said Dumbledore, smiling faintly, "is precisely the puzzle I mentioned earlier, the one we must solve."
His expression was calm, almost amused, as he laid a hand gently on the trunk of a nearby tree. "After all," he said lightly, "isn't the unknown what makes discovery interesting?"
There was no trace of panic in his voice, no gravity, either. Instead, he sounded like a scholar delighted by a new mystery. Perhaps he already knew something Snape and Hermione did not.
Otherwise, with two younger wizards present, he surely wouldn't appear so utterly calm and at ease. Why he chose not to tell them what he knew, however, remained a mystery in itself.
Of course, there was always the terrifying possibility that this Albus Dumbledore was nothing more than an illusion. A figment conjured from Snape's own mind. That would explain how he knew about the secret agreement, because Snape himself knew it.
Who could say for certain?
Hermione nodded thoughtfully, while Snape's expression shifted constantly, his thoughts turning darker and more chaotic. "This might be related to Ian," he muttered. "He went to challenge whatever creature made that sound."
One had to admit, it was oddly touching that the "old uncle" still cared so much about Ian. Unfortunately, Ian wasn't even here, so the sentiment was, well, pointless.
(To Be Continued…)