Harry had a long dream, his second one that night.
This time, he didn't see the red-haired woman… much to his disappointment!
Harry had been hoping this dream would continue where the last one left off.
In the dream, he found himself in a strange place that, judging by the decor, looked like King's Cross Station.
Harry wandered around the station for quite a while before noticing an abandoned child.
The child was strange, naked, curled up on the ground. Its raw, reddish skin looked rough, as if it had been flayed. It lay shivering under a seat, discarded and shoved there, struggling to breathe.
Harry was scared.
Though the thing was small, weak, and injured, he couldn't bring himself to approach it. But after hesitating for a long time, he finally resolved to help and moved closer.
Only then did he realize the child was already… dead.
"…"
Harry sat alone beside the corpse, sadness etched on his face. Yet, strangely, he felt an odd sense of relief.
Startled, he wondered: Have I become so twisted?
But before he could dwell on it, a sharp pain stabbed through his head, and voices echoed in his ears.
They weren't the cries of the red-haired woman this time. Instead, they were snippets of conversation between Riddle and William, broken and fragmented, as if from a faulty recording device.
Then, the station was engulfed in blinding green light.
Harry's head felt like it was about to explode. When he opened his eyes again, he gasped so hard it seemed he could swallow a Bludger.
Another child had inexplicably appeared under the seat!
It lay crying beside the dead baby, its wails piercing and incessant, driving Harry to the brink of madness. He felt an almost irresistible urge to smother it with his robes.
But he didn't dare act on it.
What if it's my own soul?
Harry had no idea how much time passed before he finally woke from the dream.
He lifted his head and saw Ron lying nearby.
"Ron, what's wrong? Wake up! You died so tragically!" Harry cried out, grief-stricken.
Tears welled in Harry's eyes.
"He's not dead, just severely drained of life force. I've already given him a potion, but he'll need a good period of rest to recover," a voice said from the other side of the room.
William was seated at the stone table where Riddle had previously sat, casually flipping through a book on alchemy.
"Alright, stop shaking Ron. You'll only make his injuries worse," William said without looking up, turning another page.
In his lap rested a plucked, ugly bird. It stirred, woken by the commotion, and raised its head to let out a long yawn.
Harry relaxed. With William around, at least he and Ron were safe.
Everyone knew how powerful William was!
Harry got up, walked over, and asked in confusion, "William, why are you holding a bald turkey? It's so ugly!"
"…"
Fawkes, furious, spat a glob of hot spittle at Harry.
Fire Style: Phoenix's Wrath!
Unfortunately, Fawkes had just been reborn and was far too weak. The "attack" was no more than the size of a lighter's flame, barely enough to light a cigarette.
"This is Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes. It saved my life, it's not some Scottish featherless turkey," William said, stroking Fawkes's bald head.
"Come on, little flame-spitter, show us some fire!" William grinned, pulling a skewer of mutton from his pocket.
Fawkes blinked in longing before spitting out another small burst of flame.
William held the skewer over the flame, turning it a few times until the golden phoenix fire had perfectly roasted the meat.
He waved the skewer in front of Fawkes, and the phoenix opened its beak eagerly. With a single bite, William devoured the meat.
"…" Fawkes, outraged, spat another flame at William.
William laughed heartily, flicked the phoenix on its little bald head, and pulled out a can of fish. Opening it, he placed it on the table, gesturing for Fawkes to eat.
The little phoenix, finally satisfied, hopped onto the table to enjoy its meal.
"William, Tom Riddle is Voldemort…I-I revived him," Harry suddenly blurted out, remembering what had happened.
"It was the diary. He threatened me…"
"I know, Harry," William said, closing his book. With a tap of his wand, he conjured a chair.
"I met him already. When I arrived, he was waiting for me."
"What happened afterward? Where did he go?" Harry asked eagerly, sitting on the chair. He was desperate for information about Riddle.
"Here, drink this calming draught. Your mental state is in poor condition… Strange, you slept all night. How do you have such dark circles and bags under your eyes?"
William retrieved a bottle of potion from his alchemical watch and handed it to Harry.
Harry was the perfect example of someone who pushed limits during the day and then challenged them even more at night, staying up late, sneaking into the Chamber of Secrets, and engaging in a high-stakes encounter with Riddle.
Harry's gaze drifted to the golden watch on William's wrist.
"I crafted this alchemical item, the safety watch," William explained, noticing Harry's interest. "I added a small hidden compartment here and enchanted it with an Undetectable Extension Charm."
"Undetectable Extension Charm… I know that one," Harry said enviously. "Hermione has a gold watch just like yours."
"In Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall saw it and showed it to everyone.
"She praised the alchemical craftsmanship and said it demonstrated a high level of transfiguration skill too. She encouraged us to study hard in Transfiguration so we could make things like that one day."
William chuckled. McGonagall certainly spared no effort in motivating her students to excel.
After drinking the potion, Harry felt much better, his head no longer hurt, and his energy had returned.
"What happened to Riddle?" Harry asked again.
"We fought," William replied. "He tried to use you as a hostage. When that didn't work, he lost his temper and attempted to kill you with the Killing Curse. But the spell rebounded on him."
"How is that possible?" Harry asked, stunned.
"Professor Dumbledore should have told you," William explained.
"Your mother, at the cost of her life, cast a protective charm on you. That magic prevents Voldemort, or Riddle, from harming you."
"The same thing happened years ago when Voldemort's spell rebounded on him. It's no different this time. Touch your forehead and see for yourself."
Harry immediately touched his forehead and discovered a new lightning-shaped scar beside the old one.
Now he had two scars, one on the left and one on the right, like a pair of horns!
The original scar no longer hurt, but the new one throbbed painfully.
"Did he die?" Harry asked urgently, using his long hair to cover the scars.
"No, that's what's puzzling," William replied, "He escaped, but he's lost most of his power. He won't be reappearing anytime soon."
Harry let out a sigh of relief.
He then recounted the dream he had, describing the two babies.
William frowned deeply. "You're saying one baby was dead, and after a flash of green light, another appeared?"
"Yes. What does it mean?" Harry asked.
William seemed to grasp something but ultimately shook his head. "I'm not sure. I suggest you ask Professor Dumbledore."
"Maybe it was just a dream," Harry said dismissively.
He looked around and asked curiously, "Why are we still here? Shouldn't we leave?"
"Good question. We might never be able to leave," William replied with a hint of helplessness as he picked up his book again.
"This room is part of the Chamber of Secrets, set up by Salazar Slytherin himself. Only Riddle can open it."
"Does that mean we're trapped here?" Harry asked in panic.
"Pretty much," William said calmly, "This place is completely sealed off. We can't communicate with the outside world, use Apparition, or even employ communication shells."
"We'll have to wait for Professor Dumbledore to find a Parselmouth to open the door for us."
"But what about food?" Harry asked, his hunger already gnawing at him.
"Don't worry about that. My safety watch has plenty of stored food. It'll last us a while," William reassured him.
He glanced at Fawkes and added with a smirk, "Even if we run out of food, we still have a backup plan.
"Phoenixes can regenerate. If it gets desperate, we can chop off Fawkes' wings. Once it's severely injured, it'll regenerate and come back to life.
"We could do that repeatedly, giving us an infinite supply of food, at least in theory."
Fawkes, nibbling on dried fish, froze mid-bite. Despite its bald appearance, it clutched a small yellow fish in its beak and looked at William in utter horror.
Dumbledore, please hurry! Your precious phoenix is about to be eaten!
Outraged, Fawkes glared at William, but its wide-eyed expression was more adorable than threatening.
William ignored the phoenix's feeble attempt at intimidation. He stroked its bald head with one hand while propping his chin up with the other, gazing fondly at the old bird that had saved his life multiple times. His smile was dazzling.
"Fawkes, you've saved me so many times. I really should repay you.
"Do you have any family? sisters, perhaps? I wouldn't mind taking them in. I'll take care of them, give them food and shelter… what do you think?"
Fawkes rolled its eyes dramatically and spat another tiny flame, narrowly missing William's hair. It looked as though it wished for nothing more than to turn William as bald as itself.