Darkness.
Weightlessness.
Time without meaning.
Those were the only sensations Dawn could perceive.
Ever since his consciousness had been pulled out of the young wizard's body, he had drifted through a formless void that resembled primordial chaos.
He floated with no sense of direction for what felt like an eternity before finally opening his eyes once more.
Soft light greeted him.
Yet it stung his pupils.
Dawn blinked several times, taking a while to adjust before looking around.
He found himself lying on a bed.
Nearby stood a familiar desk and bookshelf.
This is...
Home in Kent?
The Ethereal Realm.
The two thoughts surfaced one after the other. Instinctively, Dawn looked down at himself.
In an instant, silvery-white mist and intricate patterns came into view, filling him with the strange sensation of returning after a lifetime away.
I'm back.
A smile spread across Dawn's face.
Relishing the return of his long-lost abilities, he rose to his feet, clenched and unclenched his fists, and stretched his body, which still felt slightly numb.
Before long, however, his pleasant mood faded.
Remembering how abruptly he'd been torn from the young wizard's body, his thoughts shifted toward the Castle Consciousness.
Unifying the students' shared belief to use the Castle Consciousness and investigate the secret behind World Correction...
Had he succeeded?
By all logic, he should have.
When he had left, nearly every student in Hogwarts had subconsciously accepted the rumor he'd spread.
Still...
There was no objective measure for something like this. He couldn't say with absolute certainty.
"I'll have to test it in a dream."
Dawn rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Practice was the only true test.
Whether "Dawn Richter dreams of real history" had succeeded or failed would become obvious after one night's sleep.
Of course...
He certainly wasn't going to sleep here.
Glancing once around the place where he had remained for so long, Dawn pushed open the door without the slightest hint of attachment.
Stepping outside, he looked toward the distant archway standing proudly on the horizon.
"Good. The exit's still there."
He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Crossing lush green grass and following the stone path beneath his feet, he headed toward the archway.
As he walked...
He reflected on everything that had happened over the past half year.
Looking back carefully, he realized his gains weren't actually that great.
His magical ability hadn't advanced in leaps and bounds the way it had when he'd mastered magical creature transfiguration.
Still...
After everything he'd experienced, his understanding of magic had broadened tremendously.
More importantly, he had found the direction for his next stage of research.
Seen that way... The time hadn't been wasted after all.
Dawn nodded to himself.
For a long while to come, he intended to follow one simple principle.
Stay out of trouble.
Dedicate himself entirely to magical research.
Most importantly...
The subject of converting matter into magic.
That research would determine whether it was truly possible to manipulate natural magic directly through his own consciousness.
Before any of that... There were still quite a few loose ends to take care of.
The most important one, naturally, was verifying whether the Castle Consciousness had actually worked.
Besides that...
He also intended to seize this opportunity to empty the Department of Mysteries.
Every Brain in a Vat had to be taken with him.
Afterward...
He planned to retrieve Flamel's hidden assets from Iceland—the ones obtained from the Holy Infant Cemetery—and move everything into his secret base beneath the Vatican.
Then...
He needed to find time to trade Voldemort's Horcrux information to Dumbledore, allowing the Headmaster to deal with Tom himself.
Finally...
He intended to make another trip to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem—or rather, what remained of it.
Using the Manifestation Charm, he hoped to glimpse the hidden secrets of the Church.
Oh. Right.
There was one more thing.
He certainly hadn't forgotten Fudge.
Throwing him through the Veil of Death was a crime deserving proper retaliation.
As Dawn mentally organized everything he intended to do while walking toward the archway...
A figure suddenly appeared in the distance.
Someone else... in the Ethereal Realm?
Dawn stopped in surprise.
Looking carefully at the person's back and clothing, he quickly recognized him.
Nicolas Flamel.
The legendary alchemist was still here, even after being killed by Dawn's surprise attack so long ago.
Dawn slowed unconsciously.
For a brief moment, he felt rather awkward.
Then he remembered what the Brain in a Vat had done to him. His guilt immediately vanished.
Sure, stabbing you in the back wasn't exactly admirable.
But you're hardly innocent yourself.
Dawn snorted softly.
At that moment...
Hearing footsteps behind him, Flamel turned around.
The instant he recognized Dawn's face, he froze. "...Dawn? What are you doing here?"
The alchemist blurted out the question.
His first assumption was that Dawn had failed to defeat Voldemort and had died in Jerusalem as well.
But gradually...
Seeing that Dawn's expression lacked any real anger... He realized that probably wasn't what had happened.
Then another memory surfaced.
The last time he'd entered the Ethereal Realm... He had encountered another living person.
Enlightenment struck instantly.
"The person I met back then... it was you!"
Flamel exclaimed.
"No wonder you came looking for me the moment I returned to reality. I'd assumed Albus had told you."
He looked at Dawn with fascination.
"So this is another ability possessed by phoenixes? The power to allow the living to enter the Ethereal Realm?
And tell me... are you here because the Resurrection Stone has reappeared?"
He asked two questions in quick succession.
Dawn merely nodded vaguely.
"...Something like that."
He had no intention of admitting that he'd ended up here after being carelessly thrown through the Veil.
Instead, he casually changed the subject.
"By the way, Mr. Flamel... weren't you supposed to embark on your so-called grand adventure? So why are you still here?"
"Because I made such a complete mess of things back in the living world."
The alchemist's expression became troubled.
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed.
"I've been wondering whether I ought to go back and explain everything to Albus."
Although he had joked before about how awkward meeting Dumbledore again would be...
Flamel also believed he had a responsibility to tell him the truth.
And besides...
"If I remember correctly, the two students you possessed still carry fragments of Voldemort's consciousness.
I have to explain that to Albus. And tell him how to remove them."
Dawn's eyes immediately lit up.
Tell Dumbledore how?
He couldn't help asking, "What's the method? Are you finally going to tell him how to convert matter into magic?"
"No."
Flamel shook his head.
"I merely made a few alchemical modifications to one room inside the castle.
It allows the dream-inducing magic to persist much longer there.
So that's all..."
Dawn couldn't hide his disappointment.
Still, he quickly perked up again.
Hoping to inspect the spell using his ability to observe magical patterns, he asked, "Which room?"
"Oh, I'm afraid I can't tell you that, my boy." Flamel smiled as he shook his head.
Dawn clicked his tongue helplessly.
He'd already tested it before. Magic simply didn't work against Flamel in his current state.
The two chatted for a little while longer.
Then, exchanging glances, they silently resumed walking toward the doorway each of them could see in the distance.
Following behind, Dawn casually asked,
"By the way, Mr. Flamel... Are you really planning to return as a ghost? I remember you saying becoming a ghost is an extremely painful existence."
"It doesn't matter."
Flamel answered calmly.
"My only lingering attachment is telling Albus what happened. Once that's done... My regret will disappear."
"And I'll return to death."
"...Just like that?" Dawn looked skeptical.
To him, becoming a ghost should require something far stronger. Some greater obsession.
Otherwise...
Wouldn't every wizard who died unexpectedly—James and Lily Potter, for example—wish to return briefly to see their son before passing on completely?
"Ordinary wizards couldn't." Flamel smiled. "But as you know... I'm just a little more capable than the average wizard."
Pinching two fingers together, he glanced back at Dawn.
"My boy... If it were you...bI believe you'd be capable of doing the same."
Dawn looked utterly speechless.
"...I'll pass."
He wanted nothing to do with such an experiment.
Someone who feared death as much as he did had absolutely no interest in discovering whether he could easily become a ghost.
Flamel chuckled softly.
After another period of silence, he spoke again.
"...Dawn. I've been thinking... Perhaps I owe you an apology."
"An apology?" Dawn blinked. "You mean because the Brain in a Vat implanted those memories into me?"
"Exactly."
Flamel nodded.
"My original intention was simply to make you happier little by little.
But unfortunately... I didn't have enough time. So instead you chose the shortcut."
Dawn let out a cold laugh. "Heh. You can keep your apology. I don't need it."
After all...
You failed anyway.
He swallowed the final thought.
Glancing around, he remembered the third person he'd encountered here last time and casually asked:
"Oh, right.
What about Abel Davis? Have you seen him? Is he somewhere in the Ethereal Realm too?"
"...I don't know."
After the briefest pause, Flamel answered quietly, "Among the dead... Not meeting one another is actually the normal state."
"The fact that we've encountered each other is the unlikely exception."
"Hm... I see."
Dawn responded absentmindedly.
He never noticed... That while saying those words... Flamel's expression had grown unexpectedly complicated.
The corners of his mouth tightened ever so slightly.
How could he possibly be unaffected? Flamel sighed inwardly.
It wasn't because Dawn had betrayed him.
That no longer mattered.
What weighed on him... Was the innocent student whose body he'd occupied.
Abel Davis had died because of him. That guilt remained firmly lodged in his heart.
And so...
An uneasy silence settled naturally between them.
Dawn noticed the atmosphere change.
But he simply assumed Nicolas was still upset about being stabbed in the back.
After thinking it over...
He wisely decided to remain silent as well.
___________
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