Plans for the Future

Night shrouded Hogwarts.

After evening classes ended, Ian walked alone through the silent corridors. The oil lamps flickered, stretching shadows across the walls. His pace was neither hurried nor slow, as though every step measured the rhythm of time.

This night belonged to thought.

He headed for The Library's Restricted Section—the heavy iron door silently opened at the touch of a magical mark. The air was thick with the scent of dust and age, and the smell of ancient parchment seemed to carry history's whispers.

This was not merely a reading session.

One of the true reasons he had returned to Hogwarts was this place—the countless pieces of forbidden, sealed knowledge.

As he walked between the towering bookshelves, Ian's thoughts had already drifted far away.

He was laying plans for the future.

Reborn into this world, he possessed too many advantages he had lacked in his previous life—memories, knowledge, and insight into the timeline.

Used properly, these things would be enough to reshape the world.

But he knew that the greater the power, the less casually it could be wielded.

The chains of fate were incomparably fragile. Rash interference could set off a chain reaction, even causing events that were meant to happen to collapse entirely.

So he had set rules for himself—

He could interfere, but he could not alter the main course.

He could correct, but he could not overturn.

He would walk through the cracks of time, precisely cutting away the diseases that would hinder the future as though performing surgery, while preserving the lifeblood of the story.

At that thought, his gaze fell upon a thick volume. Silver runes were engraved on its cover—Nicolas Flamel and Notes on Alchemy.

He reached out and gently brushed it, a rare trace of respect appearing in his eyes.

Dumbledore and Flamel's research notes had been one of the keys to his breakthrough in Alchemy.

—At the time, Dumbledore had already noticed his interest in Dark Magic and soul studies.

Knowing that dissuasion would be useless, Dumbledore had chosen to guide him instead—secretly giving him those precious alchemical texts.

Ian had always been grateful for that trust.

Without those materials, he could never have attained the status of a Master Alchemist in only a few short years.

He opened the notes, his gaze falling on familiar words. Dumbledore's image surfaced in his mind—those compassionate yet piercing eyes.

"What a pity."

Ian sighed softly.

"I respect you, but I cannot save you."

He had once considered interfering with Dumbledore's fate.

But he had quickly abandoned the idea.

That death was a fulcrum of the timeline.

If he forcibly changed it, everything would spiral out of control.

In his view, Dumbledore had to die.

This was not hatred, but necessity.

If a great man lived forever, the world could not move forward.

And he—Ian—would ultimately become the one to steer the future.

He closed the book, his expression calm.

"Sorry, Headmaster. You should not continue bearing this rotten order."

He walked deeper into the Restricted Section. His footsteps were light, as though even the ground were listening.

—He thought of something else.

Snape and the Resurrection Stone.

He had already instructed Snape not to touch that stone or reveal its existence.

That stone was destined to fall into Harry's hands in the future—becoming a crucial node in the entire timeline.

If Snape wavered because of his feelings and took it away early, everything would collapse.

He knew the risk, yet he still chose to trust him.

"Snape has his own principles," he said softly. "He will understand the significance of this stone."

After a moment of silence, the corners of his lips lifted into a faint smile.

That smile carried reason and coldness.

Ian was not Dumbledore.

He would not tolerate anyone who tried to shake his order.

In his previous life, he had endured too much—countless hands had pushed him into the Abyss amid power, fame, and lies.

Now, he was no longer a mere mortal who could only look up at the Wizarding World.

He was a creator, an observer, and the master of the future.

At that thought, a phrase surfaced in his mind—"World Gate."

That was his ultimate goal: crossing dimensions.

He planned to combine magic and technology to open portals to other worlds—

the true "Gate of All Heavens."

But to achieve it, he needed more.

More resources, more magical samples, more "events."

Every major event during Hogwarts' seven years was an opportunity.

The Philosopher's Stone, the Basilisk, the Goblet of Fire, Horcruxes... These were not merely the story's fulcrums, but materials for experiments.

Especially the fifth year—that would be the core stage of his plan.

He sensed that year would determine the success or failure of the World Gate.

He had to ensure that everything advanced according to the timeline.

Even if he had to sustain it with lies and death, he would not hesitate.

Candlelight flickered between the shelves, illuminating his deep-set features.

Ian closed the last book, his gaze distant.

"The chessboard of fate has already been laid."

"I need only place my pieces at the proper moment."

He slowly rose and walked out of the Restricted Section along the bookshelves.

Moonlight streamed through the high windows, stretching his shadow long across the floor,

like a line of shadow running through the future, straight and cold.

Ian walked into the depths of darkness, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

"Hogwarts' story has only just begun."