"It seems like you gave me options, but in reality, you didn't."
Dumbledore stood up and sat beside Harry, his wrinkled hand pressing on the boy's forehead. In the next moment, a pulsating gray-white halo appeared on the boy's forehead, looking vibrant.
However, Dumbledore didn't seem pleased because of this. He stared silently at the halo for a long time until a flash of green appeared and vanished within it.
"... It's impossible, give it up."
Watching this scene, William shook his head. Of course, he knew what Dumbledore was doing—
They had now confirmed that Voldemort was the culprit who caused Harry to fall into a deep sleep. More precisely, it was the soul in the diary. Although William didn't know Tom's age in there, he assumed it wasn't very old.
After all, this diary hadn't even been enchanted with an Anti-Theft Spell.
This was a sign of inexperience.
And just now, Dumbledore attempted to use Memory Magic to remove Voldemort's influence on Harry's mind, but he clearly failed.
After all, if it were really that simple to resolve, William wouldn't have been busy all afternoon—
The Slap Therapy was ineffective, leaving Harry's face reddened, and he didn't sit up from the bed calling for his mother like before;
Squeezing chili oil into Harry's mouth had no effect either, except it almost caused secondary harm by choking him;
The method of forcibly awakening consciousness and removing Voldemort was feasible, but this was exactly where Voldemort was clever. He used William's energy to bind his soul and Harry's soul origin together. Although William couldn't figure out how Voldemort managed this, bridging two incompatible souls was very difficult—
Yet Voldemort achieved it. They were now so tightly connected that they seemed like one person. Currently, William could certainly extract Voldemort hidden under Harry's consciousness, which wasn't difficult for him, but there was also a significant risk of directly extracting Harry's soul, turning him into an emotionless shell.
This reminded him of a memory he saw a century ago in the Guardian's Meditation Basin, of someone with the same talent as him, Isadora Morgana.
An obsessive madwoman who tried to delve into the soul and Emotion Magic to the extreme.
She drained the emotions of her family, friends, and even students, turning them into shells and claimed it was to create a better world.
This made William truly realize that any power could be a double-edged sword. That memory also became the reason he resisted the temptation at the last moment, refused to accept the Emotion Magic in the "Secret Vault," and decided to continue guarding this potentially world-destroying force.
Wait, does this mean... he actually saved the world twice?
After all, refusing to destroy the world = saving the world.
...Yes, the equation holds, and the conclusion is correct.
It was difficult, but he accomplished it.
And Dumbledore's attempt was naturally doomed to fail. Although he might be the greatest White Wizard of the 20th century, he was a blank slate in the study of Ancient Magic.
"...So, the three methods you mentioned earlier?"
Knowing he had failed, Dumbledore sighed. He stood up and looked at William, who was approaching Fawkes, ready to "catch the culprit red-handed."
"Let's skip the first method; you wouldn't want Harry to become an idiot, right?" William adjusted the newly formed glasses, then pulled out his Magic Wand, tapped it on the blackboard transformed from a phoenix climbing frame, and pocketed Fawkes, who had fallen from its nest, "Then, second, find that diary—"
William furrowed his brows, based on the testimonies he had gathered that afternoon from Madam Pomfrey, Hermione, and Ginny—
"... Yes, I can confirm that no outsiders walked into the Hospital Wing that night," Madam Pomfrey assured William confidently when questioned, claiming she couldn't possibly be wrong. She had maintained a routine patrol every two hours for nearly ten years.
"Don't you need to sleep?" William was a bit surprised.
"Sleep? That kind of waste of life only requires the bare minimum time; the safety of patients comes first—" Madam Pomfrey's voice weakened, "Moreover, the Hospital Wing isn't always occupied by patients—those petrified cases don't actually need caregiving."
...
"...Yes, I didn't check at the time,"
Hermione's expression was a bit annoyed, seemingly conflicted about why she had been so careless, "Harry just told me his diary was missing at the time, and I didn't check his bag." Saying this, she seemed to understand something, "You mean, Riddle's diary was always in Harry's bag; he just couldn't see it?"
At the time of inquiry, it was dinnertime, and seeing the students in the Great Hall, Hermione immediately lowered her voice and changed her wording.
After receiving an affirming nod from William, the girl gasped, contributing to global warming. She then asked, "By the way, I want to know, did Dumbledore give that diary to Har—"
...
"Yes, I was watching all along."
Ginny nodded, stuffing a steak into her mouth, "I wanted to give him a love letter at the time, but unfortunately, Harry seemed to like someone else—" As she spoke, she turned her head to glance at the Ravenclaw table behind her, "So, I've been planning to give up recently. However, I was sitting right beside him at the time, and I'm sure nobody touched his bag."
"Great, then what have you been doing with my Niffler recently?"
William nodded, avoiding the gritted-teeth gaze from someone across the table because of an unanswered question, and continued to ask.
"We... no, no, Kabuda didn't let us tell you." Realizing this, Ginny immediately refused to answer, and no matter how William asked, she remained silent.
...
Thus, the diary had most likely always stayed in Harry Potter's bag, but it had hidden itself right under Harry's nose. This wasn't difficult for a Dark Arts creation that had contacted Harry's soul and received William's residual power.
"...Then, those 'coincidental' mishaps for Harry can be explained."
While explaining his reasoning, William pulled Voldemort's diary from the third pocket inside his robe, "I found it under Professor Lockhart's pillow. Come to think of it... this is already the third time it's fallen into my hands."
"..."
Dumbledore took the diary from William's hand, silently flipping through the blank pages. The reflection on his glasses obscured the old man's blue eyes, making it impossible to discern his thoughts.