William's comment on Dumbledore could be described as shocking the world.
If some "Dumbledore haters" who frequent major magazine offices heard this, they'd probably be astounded by such an inhumane perspective. Of course, they'd more likely be horrified at hearing someone directly call Voldemort by name and then viciously publish articles condemning William as an "heretic" who doesn't know the immensity of heaven and earth.
However, Harry obviously did not have this debuff unique to the British Magic Realm.
"So, Voldemort— is he completely dead now?"
Harry hesitated for a moment before finally asking the question that had been bothering him since he woke up. As the question left his lips, the boy involuntarily clenched his fists, as if waiting for an answer that would make him happy.
But, Harry was destined to be disappointed.
"No."
William shook his head. Not to mention that Dumbledore had explicitly mentioned that back in Harry's first year, Voldemort somehow returned to Hogwarts. Even just the fact that the Death Eater mark on Snape's arm hadn't faded was enough for him to confirm that Voldemort wasn't completely dead.
The mark magic was a kind of magic that could represent the state of the mark's owner. After Voldemort's first "death," these marks began to gradually become dim until they completely disappeared into the skin. This was why the Ministry of Magic was convinced that Voldemort was completely dead.
But ever since that night, the mark had reappeared—
Of course, no Death Eaters who were active outside would tell the Ministry of Magic about this change. After all, most of the Death Eaters who didn't end up in Azkaban avoided imprisonment with reasons like Imperio + money, so who would choose to run back into the line of fire?
"...Alright."
Harry lowered his head, looking a bit disappointed, but soon his gaze was involuntarily attracted to the "little black lizard" that was gnawing on William's fingers. The boy couldn't help but feel that the creature seemed familiar, as if he had seen it somewhere before...
"Norbert!"
Harry squinted his eyes, and after a moment of locking eyes with Norbert's orange-yellow gaze, the boy finally matched it with the little fire dragon in his memory.
Although Norbert was very small, even smaller than when Norbert had just hatched from the eggshell, the jet-black coloring, the raised spine, and those nostrils still with traces of white—Harry was almost certain, this was a Hebridean... Norwegian... uh, what dragon was it again?
Noticing William's somewhat puzzled look, Harry paused and explained, "This is the fire dragon that the Headmaster mentioned... I've seen a fire dragon before, although it was much larger..." Back when Dumbledore and William were talking, Harry was standing nearby under the Invisibility Cloak.
"You've seen a fire dragon?"
Pressing down Norbert who was trying to fly up with a finger, William was a bit curious—was this the "protagonist" treatment? Some people might live their whole lives without seeing a live fire dragon, yet this little wizard who had been in the Magic Realm for less than two years had seen one.
"Uh, yes, it was Hagrid—"
No sooner had Harry uttered the words than he blinked regretfully—had he just accidentally "sold out" Hagrid?
But looking at the little fire dragon struggling in William's palm and then recalling the conversation between William and Dumbledore earlier, Harry suddenly realized that Hagrid hadn't really done anything wrong. He just wanted to raise a Norwegian Ridgeback, which was bigger than his house and liked to breathe fire for fun... Oh, finally remembered the name.
Hagrid had also raised a fire dragon.
...That didn't seem all that surprising.
Every time he stood in front of that half-giant, William felt like some newbie—raising an Acromantula in the castle in third grade was a level William could never reach in his lifetime, although that probably had something to do with him only entering school in fifth grade.
Tsk, inherent disadvantage.
William gently tapped the table with his finger and then, as if sensing something, he released the Norbert in his hand and took out that dark green snake from his pocket.
The Basilisk had already awakened, its leather eye mask not falling off thanks to a spell William had cast. Perhaps because it had just woken up, it was a bit disoriented when placed on the table. Unable to see anything, the Basilisk was anxiously flicking its tongue, and Norbert, sensing something, suddenly opened its mouth wide—
"Roar—"
Harry stepped back half a step again, frightened by the dragon flame spewing from the fire dragon's mouth—yes, when William took out the Basilisk, Harry had instinctively backed away two steps, still remembering the oppressive presence the Basilisk had when it appeared in the Great Hall, its head several meters in diameter making it look almost unreal.
And Norbert's roar also caught the Basilisk's attention, it raised its body dramatically, its scorched scales gently vibrating, "Hiss—" the Basilisk opened its mouth and let out a mighty hiss.
"Hiss—"
Before William could react, there came another hoarse hiss from the side—turning his head, he saw Harry standing, mouth open.
…Wait, why are you hissing too?
William pinched his throat, contemplating if he should hiss as well, otherwise, it felt a bit out of place.
But while he was pondering, the exchange between the Basilisk and Harry continued; the Basilisk had already changed direction, and man and serpent were hissing opposite each other, those sounds so insidiously evil that the entire room felt more sinister—
Something was wrong.
At some point, Cedric had stepped to the side, rubbing his shoulders while looking up with wide eyes, watching the sky suddenly darken.
"...Atmosphere is important."
Meeting Cedric's gaze, William, who had just changed the weather, waved his magic wand again, and the torches on the wall lit up accordingly.
"Hiss... uh, cough cough, it says it's very scared, the rooster crowing in the castle lately made it very weak, it wants to leave the castle but can't due to a contract. That Niffler said it could help, but now it seems to be a fraud..."
After a long exchange, Harry finally turned to the others, hissing again, and then he quickly rubbed his throat as if realizing something was wrong, switching back to English.
Their eyes collectively turned to the not-so-distant table, where Kabuda was holding a pen, scribbling on a notebook, occasionally putting down the pen to flip a few pages of a large tome standing beside it, and didn't even notice the others' gaze as it indiscriminately scratched its rear.
"Is this the Basilisk that Slytherin kept? So small..."
Looking at the creature in front of him, Cedric rubbed his chin with interest, but didn't act recklessly—he knew this couldn't be the Basilisk's original size, after all, it wasn't the first time William had done such a thing, with that little fire dragon now circling above their heads, occasionally issuing a roar at the Basilisk as if in a show of force.
But the intimidation was somewhat lacking given its size.
"...Contract?"
Compared to the Niffler's adventures and Cedric's amazement, William was clearly more interested in the other word Harry had mentioned.