The two continued forward in silence.
Gradually, Dawn noticed that although neither of them had died in the same place, the archway each of them had seen seemed to stand in exactly the same location.
It was unexpected... Yet somehow perfectly reasonable.
The realization didn't surprise him all that much.
Step by step, they walked onward. The scenery of the Ethereal Realm slowly faded away.
Thin mist drifted through the air, while indistinct murmurs echoed from deep within the fog.
Shadows, impossible to make out clearly, darted through the haze.
Dawn glanced around.
Flamel had disappeared without a trace.
He paid it little mind.
Suppressing the chill creeping into his body, he continued toward the archway ahead.
At last...
After passing through a transparent veil, an enormous, dimly lit chamber unfolded before him.
The Death Chamber of the Department of Mysteries.
Standing beside the Veil, Dawn felt the phoenix's traits rapidly restore warmth to his body, driving away the icy touch of death.
I'm finally back.
He couldn't help smiling.
Even the stale air of the chamber couldn't diminish his good mood.
Once he gathered himself, Dawn wasted no time.
Following the plan he'd already laid out, he immediately Apparated back to the Vatican.
There, he emptied several wallets enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm that he'd previously stored away before Apparating back to the Ministry.
Then...
The great looting began.
The Department of Mysteries truly contained countless treasures.
Before long, however, Dawn discovered that not everything could be taken away.
The Veil itself, for example.
It seemed rooted to reality itself.
No matter what method he tried, it refused to move even the slightest fraction.
In the end, he had no choice but to leave it where it stood.
Then there was the Time Chamber. The temporal distortions within were bound to the room itself.
He certainly couldn't pack up an entire section of space and carry it away.
He had attempted to study the chamber.
Unfortunately, without sufficiently concentrated magic present, he couldn't see any magical patterns.
After a lengthy investigation, he accomplished nothing.
Still... He felt absolutely no hesitation when it came to the Time-Turners stored there.
He took every last one.
Not a single Time-Turner remained.
Finally...
There was the mysterious room said to contain the power of love—a force supposedly more terrifying than death itself, even greater than human wisdom.
After repeated attempts, Dawn concluded that this room also couldn't be removed.
Nor could he open its door, despite exhausting every method available to him.
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, a thought surfaced.
Next time...
I'll bring the Invisibility Cloak.
If the Cloak allowed him to reveal the magical patterns hidden within these places, he might finally have a way to uncover their secrets.
Still...
"That can wait."
Dawn sighed softly, suppressing the temptation.
There were already far too many things he wanted to study. Trying to tackle everything at once would only guarantee failure.
Without another backward glance, he headed toward the Hall of Prophecy.
There, he packed away every crystal orb piled upon its endless shelves.
The journey remained astonishingly quiet. The Department of Mysteries really has gone to seed.
After everything he'd done, not a single Unspeakable had appeared to stop him.
"No wonder Slughorn could come and go so freely."
Dawn shook his head.
He couldn't help feeling disappointed by how stagnant magical development had become.
Still...
Its decline certainly worked in his favor.
By the time he finished his thorough sweep, the Department of Mysteries looked noticeably emptier.
Once he confirmed he'd left nothing behind, flames engulfed him as he disappeared.
His next destination was Iceland.
There, he retrieved Nicolas Flamel's hidden inheritance from its burial place.
Afterward...
He transferred everything to the Vatican.
Meanwhile...
At Hogwarts.
While Dawn busily enriched himself by relocating government property after emerging from the Veil of Death...
Dumbledore was enduring a storm unlike any he'd ever experienced.
After McGonagall finished giving him an angry tongue-lashing, the Headmaster sensed something was terribly wrong.
The moment he finally managed to interrupt and ask what had happened at the castle...
He was met with a series of revelations that felt like the sky itself was collapsing.
"What did you say?"
"The students were controlled by Voldemort, fought each other in front of Ministry officials, and even used Unforgivable Curses against the Minister?"
Dumbledore frowned deeply.
"What did you say?"
"The entire castle fell asleep overnight, remained unconscious for five days, became impossible to enter or leave, and nearly triggered an uprising throughout magical Britain?"
His expression grew grave.
"What did you say?"
"Students who had already left Hogwarts somehow returned on their own, apparently sneaking back under cover of darkness, and some are still missing?"
Dumbledore felt dizzy.
He specifically asked about Nicolas Flamel. The answer nearly shattered him.
"What did you say?!"
"Nicolas Flamel fought a Dark wizard in Jerusalem, triggering the worst magical exposure crisis in recorded history, leaving countless casualties behind?"
Dumbledore stared blankly into space.
No... This wasn't right. None of this was right.
He had entrusted the school to Nicolas Flamel.
Not to Dawn.
...Hadn't he?
So how had everything turned into such an unimaginable disaster?
For one fleeting moment... Dumbledore honestly wondered whether he was still dreaming.
Not just dreaming...
But trapped inside one of those terrible nightmares from which he could never wake.
Or perhaps...
Had he been deceived?
Maybe the one inside Abel Davis's body hadn't been Flamel at all. Maybe it had been Dawn in disguise.
The old Headmaster found himself just a little unwilling to accept reality.
'...Calm down. Stay calm.'
'The damage has already been done. The only thing left now... is to deal with it.'
'Running away won't solve anything.'
'And perhaps... perhaps it's not quite as terrible as it sounds.'
'The castle's five-day sleep was probably Flamel using some method to remove Voldemort from the students.'
'As for Jerusalem... That was likely Voldemort causing chaos, with Flamel trying to stop him.'
'Everything got out of hand.'
'It's all right... It's all right...'
After spending several minutes mentally preparing himself, Dumbledore finally managed to steady his breathing.
Massaging his temples, he said, "Everything else can wait."
"The most urgent matter is locating the missing students. I'll find a way to discover where they are."
His thoughts immediately turned toward Grindelwald.
At a time like this... Only a prophecy from him might provide the answers they needed.
Before departing for Nurmengard, however, Dumbledore asked one final question.
"Besides that, Minerva... Is there anything else?"
"There is."
McGonagall nodded heavily.
She pulled a folded newspaper from beneath her arm and handed it to him.
"Today's paper contains an article published by Fudge asking whether Hogwarts should be closed.
Most people oppose the idea. But after everything that's happened...
Some members of the Board of Governors and many parents believe the school should be shut down for at least six months while the castle's problems are resolved."
Taking a deep breath, McGonagall rubbed her aching forehead.
"Albus...
I think you should prepare yourself.
I'm afraid the remaining half of this school year...Will be impossible to continue here at Hogwarts."
___________
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