"Yes, Professor, our dear Mr. Tom is no longer in here."
William held the old man's hand, flipped the diary to the first page, and saw that the signature at the bottom right, which was already a bit blurry, was now completely smudged, as if someone had soaked it in water for a long time. "Although I don't know how he did it," William continued, "but now, Harry's soul is completely entangled with Voldemort's—"
As he spoke, he turned his head and looked at the boy still asleep, "For a second-year little wizard... Dumbledore, I think you might be rushing things."
"Tell me your thoughts..."
The old man sighed, closed the diary in his hand, and instead of responding to William's doubts, he took off his glasses and gently pressed his brow.
"Oh, okay," William nodded, didn't continue speaking, and instead shifted the topic per Dumbledore's idea, "Voldemort created a dreamscape for Harry, though I don't know the content, it must be much better than reality, which is why Harry is somewhat... lost?"
"So, why would he do that?"
Dumbledore's brow furrowed tightly, and he gazed at the diary in his hand, seemingly lost in thought.
"Why..." William shook his head, "Who knows, maybe he's crazy? Maybe he wants to see what the 'Savior' who defeated him is really like? If I were him, I would have taken over Harry Potter's body to 'resurrect' right away last night, so I really can't figure out why he's doing this..."
During this period, William crammed some knowledge about soul artifacts—he didn't know much before, after all, he didn't specialize in dark arts, and the idea of tearing one's soul to gain immortality seemed to have no advantages to him, rather making one lose themselves.
But the Hogwarts library seemed to lack records related to soul artifacts, even the infamous "Deadly Poison Magic" only briefly mentioned the term soul artifact.
This is reasonable, after all, isn't it a bit eerie that a school's library would have a book teaching others how to kill without scruples and achieve immortality?
"So, what's your decision?"
William interrupted his wandering thoughts, looked up at Dumbledore, "Directly destroy the soul artifact?" William pointed at the diary in the old man's hand, "Although Voldemort himself is now in Harry's head, his soul imprint cannot just disappear—so, although on the surface the soul artifact is indestructible, I think you have a way."
Dumbledore didn't respond, he raised his hand, "Accio."
In the next moment, a large volume with a brown cover flew down from the top of the bookshelf. It landed slowly in front of Dumbledore, and William could see the title on the cover—"Advanced Black Magic Unveiled"
"Yes, in fact, extremely destructive dark magic can destroy a soul artifact," Dumbledore opened the volume in his hand, expertly flipping to a particular page, "I speculated the reason for Voldemort's immortality, and now it seems to be the soul artifact—"
William leaned in closer, seeing a passage of text in some sanity-draining illustrations detailing the method of creating soul artifacts—and surprisingly, there was also a destruction tutorial.
"Then... how about trying the Crucio?" William grasped his magic wand, eager to try.
"?"
"...What's wrong? Isn't it only illegal to use it on live people?"
"Senior, we're here to destroy it, not to torture it, the Crucio is dark magic, but it doesn't have destructive power." Dumbledore held his forehead and sighed, "Besides, I don't plan to do it this way."
As he spoke, the old man closed the "Advanced Black Magic Unveiled" he was holding, "Perhaps we should hear your third method, entering the dreamscape..."
"That's just a broad introduction, to be precise, extracting Potter's current dreamscape, then using a device similar to a meditation basin, and then an external soul mapping—the feasibility of this method only exists on paper at the moment, whether it can really succeed... depends on further development."
William explained, this was a method he reverse-engineered based on the dream magic constructed by Voldemort, feasibility unknown, success rate unknown, and he wasn't too sure about the consequences of the experiment—
"...Can the meditation basin do this?"
Dumbledore turned his head, looking at the niche beside him. He had been using that meditation basin for decades—how come he didn't know it had this function?
"Your ordinary stuff surely doesn't have this capability." William glanced in the direction Dumbledore was looking, then shrugged disdainfully, "Besides, I said something like a meditation basin, can't you pay attention in class?"
"..."
"Alright, since you've decided, I'll take Harry then—"
Seeing that Dumbledore didn't respond, William clapped his hands, waved his wand, and Harry, bed and all, floated up and followed him.
"Wait, didn't you just say you're taking Potter too?"
Dumbledore blinked, instinctively reaching out as if to stop him.
"I need to study—damn it, what did that old brute Blake actually tell you?"
"Can't it be done here?"
"There's nothing here, need to go to my place, got the equipment—"
"I want to go too."
"No way, I have privacy, you know..."
"..."
...
"...Uh, hello, Headmaster?"
When Dumbledore crawled out of the fireplace, Cedric almost snapped his quill, a glaring blot of ink spilling over most of his Potions Class essay.
"Stop dawdling, move Harry to the room... Room 17."
William interrupted Cedric's shock, tossing Harry, bed and all, to the boy.
"Oh, okay..."
The boy mumbled woodenly, then started trying to drag Harry's bed—"Use the Levitating Spell, Muggle!" William gave him a kick in the rear.
"Oh!"
Cedric finally reacted, waving his magic wand, and disappeared into the newly appeared room with Harry and the bed.
"...Room of Requirement?"
Dumbledore curiously observed his surroundings, and he approached the rows of cauldrons in the room's corner, his crooked nose sniffing near, "Is this... Polyjuice Potion?"
"Also called the Room of—Don't sniff around, old man, if the potion goes awry you're responsible?" William impatiently pushed the old man who seemed eager to lift the cauldron lid to look aside, "Isn't it allowed for students to brew potions at Hogwarts?"
"Indeed not."
Dumbledore shook his head, then looked up, meeting an orange-yellow pair of eyes in the air, "However, the school rules clearly state that students are prohibited from keeping it on campus—" The old man raised his hand, pointing at the black lizard flapping its wings and hovering midair.
"Burp—"
Norbert let out a belch, and a scarlet flame ignited Dumbledore's beard.