The young wizards split into four groups by house.

Their eyes shining with excitement as they looked toward the Forbidden Forest, listening to Dumbledore explain the rules.

“This practical lesson will last four hours, from eight in the morning until noon,” Dumbledore said.

“The activity area is restricted to the outer section of the forest, marked by the boundary line.”

As he spoke, he took out a cloth bag.

With a flick of his hand, dozens of black bracelets flew out and landed neatly on a raised stone platform.

The students gasped in amazement.

“Every participant must wear one of these,” Dumbledore continued. “If your bracelet makes a sound, it means you have left the designated area and must return immediately.”

“In addition, aside from magical creatures, there are also traps set up by the professors. If you don’t want to come back injured, stay alert at all times.”

He repeated the safety instructions patiently.

After all, even if the lesson itself was a pretense, the dangers in the forest were very real.

“And finally—students are allowed to attack each other.”

“If your house has the last student standing, or the most students remaining when time is up, your house will gain one hundred points toward the House Cup.”

The moment he finished speaking, the students erupted into excited cheers.

They were already eager for combat and practical training. Now that points were at stake, their enthusiasm surged even higher.

The Weasley twins, who had recently lost a large number of points, clenched their fists eagerly, determined to redeem themselves.

As soon as Dumbledore announced the start, the students rushed forward, grabbed the black bracelets, strapped them on, and charged into the forest.

Almost immediately, a dull thud echoed—someone had fallen into a pit.

Once all the students had disappeared into the trees, Dumbledore smiled faintly.

He shook the bag again, and six white bracelets floated out and landed on the platform.

He calmly picked one up and put it on.

“Well then, let’s begin our work.”

He glanced at the other professors, signaling them to take theirs.

To avoid raising suspicion, he did not assign them directly. Instead, he let them choose freely.

So how could he ensure Dawn got the right one?

Dumbledore had already planned for this.

Based on Dawn’s behavior this term, he had noticed that, in the guise of Professor Hickman, Dawn was unusually low-key.

He rarely spoke unless necessary and always stayed at the back during group activities.

Just like during the basilisk incident.

So—

Dumbledore concluded that Dawn would likely take the bracelet last.

If the others took theirs from nearest to farthest, the final one—the special one—would naturally be left for him.

And the order would seem completely natural.

Everything unfolded exactly as Dumbledore had predicted.

Dawn stood calmly at the back, making no move to step forward.

McGonagall, remembering Dumbledore’s earlier request, walked up and took the second bracelet, then handed the third to Flitwick.

Sprout took the fourth.

Snape took the fifth.

Madam Pomfrey, responsible only for medical care, did not need one.

At last—

Only one bracelet remained.

Dawn stepped forward and picked it up.

Dumbledore watched him idly turning it in his hand. He took a quiet breath and, without looking directly at him, said in a measured tone:

“Everyone, the restriction on Apparition has been lifted. Spread out along the boundary of the practice area.

If you sense a student in danger, respond immediately.

And be cautious—those thunderbirds have not been seen recently. They may reappear.”

The professors nodded.

Dawn shrugged and slipped the bracelet onto his wrist.

At that moment—

A dull thud sounded.

Everyone turned.

Professor Hickman collapsed to the ground. His body convulsed briefly—

Then went still.

“…Professor Hickman?” McGonagall’s expression changed as she rushed forward.

Madam Pomfrey did the same.

But suddenly—

They froze.

Dawn’s body began to ripple, his flesh shrinking and reshaping.

Before their eyes, the adult form dissolved— And a child’s body took its place.

A familiar face emerged.

“This is—”

Dumbledore said nothing.

He watched in silence, momentarily dazed.

Even though he had planned it all— Even though he knew he had the advantage—When it actually happened, it still felt unreal.

Was it really this simple?

Was it really… this simple?

…

On a tree near the edge of the forest, a gray-white owl perched on a branch, staring down at the scene in disbelief.

After a moment, it exploded in silent rage, flapping its wings wildly and nearly falling off the branch.

‘What the hell are you doing?!’ The owl screamed internally. ‘Caught just like that?!’

It couldn’t believe its eyes.

It had expected that if Dawn ever fell into Dumbledore’s hands, it would at least be after a struggle.

But this?

No resistance. No fight.

Just collapsing quietly.

It was like a hero who defeated the Dark Lord, returned home, drank a bad beer—and died on the spot.

Unacceptable.

The owl hooted furiously, itching to swoop down and peck the unconscious Dawn.

His transformation was maintained by natural magic. Even if he lost consciousness, he should have remained in disguise.

From the way he had calmly returned to his original form after putting on the bracelet—

He must have had time to react.

So why didn’t he cut off his own wrist?

The owl had already figured it out.

Everything was connected to that bracelet. Just sever the wrist, remove the bracelet—problem solved.

A nearby snow bird hopped closer, tilting its head curiously.

“Hoo?”

It rubbed against the owl in a comforting gesture.

The owl kicked it off the branch.

Dawn, irritated, fluffed his feathers back into place and glared at his other self below.

He was starting to think his decision last Saturday had been a terrible mistake.

Back then—

He had asked himself a simple question. When facing an unknown danger, who is the most reliable person?

The answer was obvious.

Himself.

So he had come up with a brilliant plan.

He obtained a Time-Turner and decided that his future self would return to this moment.

And sure enough—

When he flew back to the castle as an owl, he saw another “Hickman” entering Hogwarts.

That was his future self.

Meanwhile, his present self remained in owl form, observing everything.

Two versions of himself in the same time period.

Mutual support.

Maximum safety.

Perfect.

And if the danger was tied to the identity of Professor Hickman—Then he, as an owl, could observe it in advance.

Risk postponed. Flawless.

That was the theory.

But now?

Dawn was increasingly convinced it was a disaster.

First—

The timing of the Time-Turner had gone wrong. He had planned to loop every two days.

Observe as an owl.

Then go back and relive those days as Hickman.

Repeat.

But—

Four days ago, on Tuesday— When he was about to reset the timeline— His future self went to the library instead of finding a secluded place.

And stayed there all night.

That’s when Dawn realized— Something was off.

That version of himself was not from two days in the future.

And worse— He had no idea when that version came from. The entire timing system collapsed.

Second—

That future self was acting strangely.

Getting captured so easily… Grinding the Resurrection Stone for no clear reason.

No explanation.

No logic.

No purpose.

Dawn dug his claws into the bark in frustration. And there was one more thing— That made him furious.

That future version clearly knew everything.

Yet he left no clues.

No message. Nothing.

Not even a note sent via owl.

It reminded him of the Felix Felicis ritual— Where everything worked out, yet the expected message never came.

Dawn came to a painful realization.

He might have a bad habit of sabotaging himself.

…

Below, the professors gathered around his unconscious body.

Dumbledore knelt and placed a hand on Dawn’s chest, sensing his condition.

Is this real?

Last year, in the Room of Requirement, Dawn had left behind a perfect body while escaping.

But this time—

Dumbledore could clearly feel a soul inside.

This was real.

He pressed a finger to Dawn’s temple.

°Memory withdrawal°

If the soul was present, the truth could be confirmed through memory. And there were many things he wanted to know.

…

Up in the tree, the owl nearly lost its mind.

This is bad!

Dawn recognized the gesture immediately.

Memory extraction.

Too shameless, Dumbledore!

He hesitated— Should he intervene? But before he could act—

Dumbledore frowned and stood up.

There was no memory extracted.

Dawn relaxed.

Of course. If he had already seen this future, then his future self must have prepared for it.

But—

If he knew he would be captured… Why didn’t he avoid it?

Dawn shook his head. If he avoided it, he wouldn’t have seen it.

Time was confusing.

He stayed hidden, watching.

…

“Albus! This is Richter?!” McGonagall finally exclaimed.

She rubbed her temples, overwhelmed.

“So this was what you were hiding? You knew he was here all along? And that bracelet—”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said calmly. “It was made by Nicolas Flamel. It induces permanent unconsciousness.”

He offered an apologetic smile. “I feared that if word got out, he would become cautious.”

McGonagall frowned, clearly dissatisfied.

Professor Sprout spoke next. “Then where is the real Professor Hickman? Or—”

“He was always him,” Dumbledore said.

The room fell silent.

Flitwick looked at the boy and asked softly, “What will you do with him?”

Dumbledore paused.

What should he do?

He needed a solution that was absolutely foolproof.

Azkaban?

Too risky.

Nurmengard? Unacceptable—he didn’t trust Grindelwald.

The Ministry? Out of the question.

Then—

Snape spoke coldly.

“Kill him.”

McGonagall frowned but said nothing.

Sprout immediately objected.

“I will not agree. The Ministry has abolished the death penalty. And is he worse than Death Eaters?”

“Hard to say,” Snape replied.

Dumbledore shook his head. “He possesses phoenix-like immortality. Killing him won’t work.”

“Then dismember him,” Snape said calmly.

Madam Pomfrey frowned in disgust.

Dumbledore continued, “He would simply regenerate. And the bracelet requires his body to remain intact.”

Then—

An idea struck him.

Perhaps— There was no need to send him anywhere.

Perhaps he could simply be buried somewhere hidden within Hogwarts.

Secure.

Isolated.

And under constant watch.

___________

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