Chapter One Hundred Eleven: Our Plan Is to Have No Plan

Watching the depth in Dumbledore’s eyes, Xiven felt immense pressure.

“Why are you suddenly asking me that?” Xiven forced a smile and asked softly.

“Because I have a very important plan, and I may well need your help.” Dumbledore regarded Xiven solemnly. “In fact, I specifically went to see Lady Ravenclaw, and she believes you can be trusted.”

“Helena certainly trusts me.” Xiven smiled faintly.

“No, by Lady Ravenclaw, I mean Rowena Ravenclaw.” Dumbledore shook his head. “I secretly went to the Room of Requirement. I must say, Lady Ravenclaw’s methods were truly eye-opening.”

“Did Lady Ravenclaw tell you about my true origins?” Xiven frowned slightly. He had no idea what Ravenclaw had told Dumbledore, or whether it might affect the young wizard Xiven, who was still attending school.

“I never imagined you came from another universe, Mr. Strange.” Dumbledore nodded. “If that is the case, then everything else becomes much easier to explain—the different systems of magic, the different states of the soul, and the different ways of thinking.”

“I presume that the young wizard from the Rosier family named Xiven learned those novel spells from you as well?” Dumbledore asked.

At this, Ghost Xiven secretly breathed a sigh of relief. At least Dumbledore did not know the true relationship between Ghost Xiven and the young wizard Xiven. Otherwise, he truly would not have known how to face this professor of Transfiguration while assuming the identity of young wizard Xiven.

“I taught him.” Ghost Xiven nodded, his expression unchanged. “Xiven helped me considerably when I was imprisoned in the dungeon.”

“I see.” Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. Unconsciously, he toyed with the silver diamond-shaped pendant around his wrist, as though lost in thought.

Xiven stared at the blood pact in Dumbledore’s hand, which emitted a faint red glow. In the end, he could no longer contain himself and asked, “Professor Dumbledore, what do you need my help with?”

Only then did Dumbledore speak again.

“Have you heard of Grindelwald, Mr. Strange?”

Xiven nodded. His thoughts, however, had returned to the time he had seen Grindelwald at the Garnier Opera House in Paris, as well as to the tone and manner in which Dumbledore had spoken of meeting Grindelwald in Nicolas Flamel’s book of phoenix reliefs.

“To be frank, I met Grindelwald a few days ago. I hoped he would stop, but the outcome was far from satisfactory.” Dumbledore’s voice grew heavy. “He insists on starting a war against the Muggle world. Such a war would clearly bring a terrible catastrophe upon both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.”

“So what is it you need me to do?” Xiven drew a deep breath and asked quietly.

“I hear you possess a spell capable of opening a mirror world…”

…

After leaving Dumbledore’s office, Ghost Xiven drifted somewhat blankly toward the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor.

Across from the tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy being beaten by trolls, a smooth door had already appeared in the wall.

Xiven passed through it and entered an elegant room filled with shades of blue and bronze.

The pure-white marble statue of Ravenclaw still sat upon that mysterious and graceful high-backed bronze chair, her beautiful features touched with sternness.

“I knew you would come looking for me, so I opened the door in advance,” Lady Ravenclaw said. “I imagine you want to know why I told Dumbledore your secret.”

Xiven nodded lightly. He was indeed curious as to why Ravenclaw had revealed a secret known only to her, her daughter, and Xiven himself to another person.

“First, I would like to ask you something. What kind of person do you think Dumbledore is?” Ravenclaw smiled at Xiven.

Xiven thought for a moment. Without realizing it, he recalled Dumbledore’s easy composure when facing enemies, his effortless command of the classroom, the overwhelming force of his spellcasting, and the way he had calmly arranged both his and Newt’s destinations, thereby thwarting Grindelwald’s plans with ease.

“Broadly learned, immensely powerful, highly skilled, and adept at planning ahead…” Xiven offered a measured assessment.

Ravenclaw nodded and looked at him. “Since you hold such a high opinion of him, have you ever considered that a man of his intelligence would inevitably grow suspicious of your true identity?”

Xiven froze. He had not never worried about that possibility. He had simply avoided thinking about it instinctively, until the concern had gradually faded into the background.

“So, rather than let him grow suspicious of your identity and purpose, it was better to reveal part of your identity to him directly. That way, you could dispel his doubts while concealing your deeper secrets.” Lady Ravenclaw’s words struck with pinpoint accuracy, each one hitting the heart of the matter and laying bare Xiven’s present circumstances.

Only then did Xiven understand her painstaking intentions.

Even so, one question still troubled him, and it was the primary reason he had come to seek Lady Ravenclaw out.

“Do you truly believe Dumbledore can defeat Grindelwald’s plans?” Xiven asked.

Xiven still clearly remembered what Dumbledore had said to him:

“Grindelwald possesses the ability to foresee fragments of the future, and any plan we make could be detected by him. So our plan is to have no plan at all!” Dumbledore had said. “What I need from you is unconditional trust. Even if what I ask you to do goes against your instincts—or even your will!”

Whenever he thought of that, Xiven felt profoundly uncertain. If they had abandoned every plan simply because Grindelwald could foresee fragments of the future, would their actions not amount to little more than a contest of luck, with both sides relying entirely on chance?

That was why Xiven had asked about his doubts without hesitation.

At the time, Dumbledore had given him the following ambiguous reply:

“That is why I need you to join us, Mr. Strange!”

Could it be that Dumbledore already had a plan in mind, but, because of Grindelwald’s prophetic abilities, was unable to reveal it directly to his allies? Xiven could only hope that was the case.

As Xiven’s expression shifted between uncertainty and doubt, Lady Ravenclaw spoke.

“Do you think Dumbledore is a man who acts without purpose?”

Xiven paused, then shook his head.

“Then choose to trust him—unless you believe your own wisdom surpasses his.” Lady Ravenclaw smiled. “What a pity that he was sorted into Godric’s house!”