"How is this possible!" Snape furrowed his brow, like a bat sensing a dangerous scent: "Even you can't figure it out, who can? Nicolas Flamel?"
His eyes carried a trace of worry and uncertainty. To be honest, the helplessness Dumbledore initially displayed had already made the Professor of Potions at Hogwarts feel incredible.
He thought that Albus Dumbledore would solve the puzzle after some effort, however, even after waiting so long, Albus Dumbledore still could not solve the problem.
The greatest White Wizard of this century seemed truly stumped—Snape had never thought he would one day encounter something that even Dumbledore couldn't handle.
It was as if he were dreaming.
But it was indeed real.
After all, Snape had pinched himself to confirm this—of course, it cannot be ruled out that dreams could be real in this world, given that the Magic World is full of wonders, and Snape could concoct a potion that allows one to experience a real dream, but precisely because of this, he knew that the current situation was far from that.
It truly is a difficult issue.
To the point where even Dumbledore felt powerless.
"I don't think he can either."
Dumbledore shook his head, the light of helplessness flickering behind his half-moon glasses: "Nicolas does indeed have unparalleled achievements in Alchemy in this world, however..." He paused, his fingers brushing over a groove on the door, "even my old friend might not grasp that knowledge system which has already been lost."
"Some magic... has already vanished forever in the river of time with their creators." It was clear that the magic Dumbledore referred to was the one on the Bronze Gate.
"This..."
Snape's expression changed.
A gust of wind blew through the Forbidden Forest, leaves rustling as if responding to the Old Wizard's words.
"What should we do then?"
Hermione suddenly felt a chill climb up her spine—if even Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel couldn't understand this door, was Ian really doomed?
"I haven't discovered nothing."
Dumbledore seemed to sense the Little Witch's emotions and spoke to soothe her.
"What do you mean? What did the Headmaster discover?"
"This door is not merely a spatial passage, Hermione. It has a filtering mechanism, and only those truly qualified can make it serve its true purpose."
The old headmaster sighed lightly and answered Hermione's question with patience.
"Filter what?" Hermione pressed on.
"Souls." Dumbledore furrowed his brow, his eyes flashing with an indescribable emotion when he mentioned the word, "Only specific souls can allow it to serve its true purpose."
"And unqualified souls are very likely to get trapped inside, becoming part of the abandoned possibilities." The old headmaster indeed gleaned a lot from scattered knowledge. Just as he had said before, this door had multiple triggers, one of which was the ability he was now describing.
"Like that evil Dumbledore we met before?"
Snape couldn't help but ask.
"No, that was one of the parts abandoned by fate, while those who attempt to enter here are different, they are actively moving from right to wrong."
Dumbledore shook his head in response.
He didn't mind Snape referring to him as evil.
"Like Ian?" Hermione felt a sense of helplessness overwhelm her. She looked again at the Bronze Gate, recalling when it was still operational a moment ago.
Seemingly.
Those twisted faces seemed to be screaming at her, but she couldn't hear any sound. A terrifying imagination formed in her mind—Ian trapped in some dark space.
His soul torn by an invisible force... how pitiful, how frightening. It must be said, the Little Witch's imagination is vivid, it's no wonder she would one day become an excellent witch.
For a Wizard.
Imagination is indeed important enough.
At least in the theory summarized by Ian.
The air was somewhat heavy.
Dumbledore did not respond either.
And after his expression changed momentarily, Snape's voice broke the silence, "It all depends on Ian's own fate, doesn't it? I knew that kid would eventually get himself killed."
Despite the annoyed tone.
There was more of a hidden worry and sadness.
"Ian simply made his own choice, or rather, fate made him make the choice." Dumbledore sighed, "Just as each of us has to be responsible for our own choices."
"Actually, we cannot yet conclude that Ian has also sunk into those erroneous fates." Dumbledore turned to the Bronze Gate, the wrinkles on his face deepening in the wand's dim light: "Although I haven't fully understood its function, I do have some clues."
He raised the Elder Wand, drawing a complex trajectory in the air, "I know how to activate it. Perhaps... I can try to go in and find Ian."
"If luck is good enough, we might both come back." Clearly, Dumbledore still wanted to try saving Ian, for Ian's importance to him was beyond words.
As for that.
Snape felt a bit dubious.
He truly had never seen the old headmaster value someone so highly.
Not even Harry Potter.
Snape knew that if necessary, Dumbledore would give up on that child—but with Ian, Dumbledore often seemed different from the old headmaster he understood.
Snape's black eyes flickered between Dumbledore and the Bronze Gate.
Brow furrowed tightly.
He truly couldn't recognize the rumors in the academy... could they really be true? In contrast to the overthinking Professor of Potions, Hermione felt a jolt in her heart.
"But what if luck is not enough?"
She truly couldn't help herself from thinking too much.
"Luck not enough?"
Dumbledore looked at her, his blue eyes flickering with a mysterious light behind the lenses: "Ian will come back. I believe in him, he has enough ability and courage to face everything."
This evasive answer left Hermione dumbfounded.
Hermione couldn't quite grasp the meaning behind Dumbledore's words; she furrowed her brow, wanting to ask more, but swallowed the words back down.
In the end, she just opened her mouth without knowing what to say. The old headmaster's tone carried something she couldn't understand—not hope, not prophecy, but an almost certain... promise?
As for that.
Snape grew increasingly skeptical.
However, even thinking this, Snape still felt Dumbledore should consider the bigger picture. The world still needs Dumbledore; he is like a beacon guiding everyone forward.
The threat of Voldemort still loomed over the Wizarding World like a shadow.
Yes.
At least in the eyes of most Wizards, it still does, for only a few people in this world understand what has become of Voldemort.
"You know, Albus, you need to live, need to live in this world, you know..." Snape said heavily, but because there was a little wizard around, he couldn't make himself clear.
As for that,
Dumbledore simply smiled slightly, not answering the question. He adjusted his robe, his movements as composed as if he were preparing for an afternoon tea party.
"The world never needs any one person. Everyone has their own mission and value, and I won't blindly take risks. Of course, I'm not someone seeking death, I am somewhat confident, so... wish me luck." Dumbledore gently interrupted him, his eyes glowing with undeniable authority.
The old headmaster's authority still existed.
Therefore.
Despite still holding dissatisfaction, wanting to argue, believing Dumbledore was being too reckless, after a series of expressions, Snape still chose to remain silent.
After a mental struggle.
"Good luck."
Snape sighed and spoke.
Out of emotion and reason.
Actually, he also had his own feelings.
After all, Ian was his nephew.
Saving Ian, of course, was something he was glad to see.
Just hoping.
Everything could develop in a positive direction.