And so...
Another day passed.
Morning came.
Dawn flew out of Gryffindor's stuffy dormitory, breathing in the fresh air. At last, he made up his mind.
He couldn't keep going like this.
He had already realized that everything happening within the castle was tied to thought and perception. Simply observing from the sidelines would not yield any meaningful results.
If he wanted to understand everything, he had to experience what his future self had experienced.
And, it had already been ten days since he saw his future self at the castle gates.
As time passed, a subtle unease had begun to grow in his heart.
The Time-Turner's safety guidelines clearly stated that the further one traveled back in time, the more likely unexpected changes would occur.
Even though the existence of his future self proved that everything would turn out fine, that lingering unease seemed to be urging him—
It was time to close the loop.
Taking a deep breath, Dawn flew from the castle toward the Forbidden Forest.
After returning to his human form, he pulled out the Time-Turner and looked at the shimmering hourglass. Then he began altering his personal pattern.
A faint, mystic aura of a Seer emerged around him.
He snapped off a branch and transformed it into a coin, flipping it repeatedly in the air as he attempted to divine whether he should go and save his future self.
He waited for that moment of inspiration to strike.
But, his luck seemed unusually poor this time.
Again and again, he slapped the coin onto the back of his hand, the sharp sounds echoing through the trees.
Until his hand turned red—
Still, nothing.
Dawn hissed lightly and shook his hand, thinking for a moment. Then he suddenly changed his pattern from the Grindelwald version to the Trelawney version.
Switching hands, he began flipping the coin again.
Silver glints flickered beneath the shade of the trees.
Smack!
At last, when his palm closed once more, a wave of disorientation swept over him, as if he were looking down upon time itself.
Good.
Dawn's eyes lit up.
Perhaps Trelawney wasn't entirely useless after all. At least this time, she had outperformed Grindelwald.
He glanced at the side of the coin facing up and made his decision.
The coin reverted back into a branch, which he casually tossed aside.
Then, Dawn cast one last look at the castle.
In his heart, he spoke the incantation:
°Apparate°
Pop!
A burst of fire flared within the forest.
British Ministry of Magic.
Department of Mysteries.
A flicker of fire illuminated the dark chamber.
Dawn emerged from it, shaking his head slightly as he steadied himself on the smooth floor beneath his feet.
This time, he didn't need to find Dumbledore.
So instead of entering through the Ministry's main entrance, he had Apparated directly into the Death Chamber.
Fortunately, this place lacked the anti-Apparition protections found in locations like the Gringotts vaults.
Which only confirmed his suspicion:
The Department of Mysteries had truly declined. Even Slughorn had managed to steal Time-Turners repeatedly.
For Dawn, this place was as accessible as his own home.
He lifted his head and looked at the massive archway standing before him.
The translucent veil swayed gently. Through its shifting folds, he could see a familiar figure lying quietly on the ground— Wearing a bracelet.
His future self.
Dawn stepped forward.
The archway loomed like a gaping mouth. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and lifted the veil.
In an instant— A cold, damp chill seeped into his body from the point of contact.
It was like a serpent burrowing through flesh, coiling tightly around his bones.
Dawn shivered involuntarily.
Peering through the parted veil, he looked beyond— But all he saw was the far wall of the Death Chamber.
If he actually walked through…
What would it be like?
Dawn's crimson pupils contracted, then expanded.
Truthfully, he felt uneasy. This place was too mysterious.
There was no reliable information about it. Even the so-called original story offered almost nothing.
Only one detail stood out—
During Harry's fifth year, Sirius Black had fallen through this veil and vanished.
Dawn didn't know what awaited him inside.
What dangers lay ahead.
But as he looked at his future self lying on the ground— He knew. Only he could bring himself back.
The only comfort he had was this— A phoenix could survive inside. And he already knew the outcome would be successful.
Slowly exhaling, Dawn's expression hardened.
No more hesitation.
Just as he was about to step forward—He suddenly stopped.
After a moment's thought, his form shifted. When he finished, he had transformed into an unfamiliar man in his thirties.
Only then did he move toward the archway.
Among the many warnings about using a Time-Turner, one stood out— Never interact directly with yourself.
Even if it was just self-deception, Dawn felt safer wearing a different face.
The veil and archway slowly swallowed him.
His body grew colder.
His heart began to race.
It felt as though he were being struck repeatedly by the Killing Curse. With each step, he grew weaker.
But it was still within acceptable limits.
Dawn pressed his lips together, staring at his other self ahead. Enduring the growing weakness, he strode forward.
Yet something felt wrong.
Though the distance was only a few meters, it felt like he had been walking for a long time.
A thin mist began to rise around him. Until, the mist completely obscured everything.
And still— He hadn't reached his future self.
What's going on?
Dawn tensed.
Gradually, he began to hear voices. And see shadows... But he couldn't make out the words.
Nor the forms.
Dark silhouettes darted past him, leaving behind only faint disturbances in the mist.
What were they?
Dawn scanned his surroundings cautiously. They reminded him of the mist summoned by the Resurrection Stone.
Were these...The thoughts of the dead?
He frowned.
Then slowly came to a stop.
Looking back, he saw that the archway still stood behind him. So he continued forward.
Time passed. Unknowable.
Then, the mist began to disperse.
With one final step— It felt as though he had stepped from one painting into another.
In an instant, the world changed completely.
Sunlight poured down from above. Wind brushed against his skin.
Dawn inhaled...
The scent of grass and flowers filled his lungs.
He froze.
Looking around, he found himself standing on a stone path.
Wooden houses were scattered nearby. A signboard hung crookedly from one of them.
Dawn blinked in confusion. This place... Wasn't this Kent County, where he had lived for years?
He turned his gaze and saw— The house he once lived in.
"Oh? How rare. I didn't expect to meet a fellow traveler here."
A frail, aged voice suddenly came from behind him.
Dawn turned.
He saw an old man.
His hair was dry and white.
His limbs were unnaturally thin—so thin they looked as though a breeze could snap them.
Dawn lowered his gaze, studying those skeletal limbs. That distinct appearance triggered a name in his mind almost instantly.
His eyes narrowed.
"...Nicolas Flamel?"
___________
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