He suddenly felt that the recent experience seemed like a dream.
Harry frowned, but still had to sleep. He loudly woke up the sleeping Gryffindor "dormitory supervisor," and amidst the other's sleepy complaints, he stated the password, then walked through the empty common room, returning to his dormitory.
"Oh, Harry, you're back—"
In the entire dormitory, only Neville was still awake. No choice, he was still planting those plants he had, putting them in pots. Carrying them on him was convenient, but to really store these Devil's Snares and Poisonous Tentacles, they needed to be in soil. And those Fire Salamanders that absorb flames— the lamp they used as a nest nearly went out—
"Yes..."
Harry nodded, lightly removing his nearly sweat-drenched robe, his movements and voice equally gentle, because the other people in the room were asleep. He subconsciously glanced at Ron, who was currently completely covered by his blanket, and involuntarily asked, "Neville, Ron... is he okay?"
"Oh, he's fine—later Fred and George talked to him for about ten minutes, and now… he should've forgotten all about Malfoy by now?"
"... Comfort from those two? Alright, Ron probably found a new target for his anger."
Harry blinked. He knew the twins' ways all too well, Neville was likely right; by now, Ron probably wasn't thinking about Malfoy at all.
"And you? Was it the headmaster wanting to see you? Oh, Hermione told us, was it the phoenix raised by Dumbledore?"
Noticing Harry's gaze, Neville hurriedly explained in a low voice.
"Oh, yes, but it wasn't Dumbledore who wanted me, it was William..."
Harry frowned, honestly still a bit groggy. Actually, anyone suddenly pulled by William for something like that would be a bit confused. But fortunately, after over six months of interacting, Harry did understand William's ways by now—
This was also what Harry liked about him: William never said things like Professor McGonagall, "You're still young; some things you don't need to know." Ever since entering the Magical World, every adult Harry met seemed to treat him this way.
Whether it was Professor McGonagall, Aunt Molly, or Dumbledore, all the adults seemed like that—
What was that character called... oh, The Riddler? Harry remembered seeing this character in the Detective Comics Dudley used to read.
But William was different, he nearly answered all Harry's questions, and for things he didn't know, he directly admitted he didn't know. Although Harry, who had just begun his third year, wasn't asking particularly constructive questions, it made Harry think highly of William—
Especially considering the previous occurrences, Ancient Magic and the emotional ups and downs from his emotions magic, Harry now saw William as a reliable, capable older brother figure, and in some ways, someone who filled the missing father figure in Harry's life.
This was why, even though William had "tormented" Harry multiple times, the boy's impression of him didn't deteriorate.
Because Harry genuinely believed now, William did everything for his own good—
But, in fact, William's intentions were indeed good.
It's just, William didn't possess mind reading abilities, he obviously didn't know Harry thought this way—and more than that, he currently wanted to know what Dumbledore thought.
...
...
"... So, what did you think of?"
In the Headmaster's Office, William lounged back on a comfortable high-backed chair, gently blowing on the tea in his cup, took a sip, then looked up at the Old Bee, who had been silently pondering for two and a half minutes, and asked.
"..."
Dumbledore wore a light purple robe, his long beard looped under his chin; his light blue eyes hidden behind his glasses were fixed on a spot on the floor. Upon hearing William call him again, he finally reacted and slowly spoke, "So, inside Harry's mind—"
"It's likely Little Tom. His state is very odd, and I'm not confident I can fully investigate without harming Harry."
William reiterated the conclusion he had previously shared, and it caused Dumbledore to frown involuntarily, "But didn't we check? Harry had made good progress digesting Voldemort's soul fragment, completing it by the end of the term?"
Dumbledore was right; Harry had stopped taking the potion because William and he confirmed it together. Under William's guidance, Dumbledore had quickly progressed in mastering Soul Magic, but because he lacked the hack of Ancient Magic, his grasp of this magic reached only up to simple soul searches—
However, even achieving this was already quite extraordinary in the Magic Realm, considering that another magic affecting others' souls is the Imperio curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses.
"Exactly, that's why I sought you out—"
"What?"
"Harry needs more effective potions. First, I am not a potion specialist, the potion Harry is currently drinking is only a concoction of herbs often used to treat remnants of Imperio and Forgetfulness Spell. Its efficacy is average. Technically it should be sufficient, but considering the opposition is Voldemort, even though not whole, I have tried finding alternatives, yet as I've just mentioned, I am not a potion expert—"
"Alright, I'll consult Severus."
Listening to William's words, Dumbledore knowingly nodded, a decision not entirely unexpected by William, as he had intended to seek out Snape. Although he was a former Death Eater and remained Hogwarts' most unpopular Professor, his professional competence was substantial—after all, he hadn't failed as a professor at Hogwarts.
"So, what do you plan to do—"
After a brief pause, Dumbledore reopened the conversation, tossing the question back to William.
"How to proceed? First, have Harry learn Expecto Patronum and Occlumency to minimize future potential occurrences, and if Harry can block his own consciousness, my success rate in uncovering the truth would also increase—"
William tried to avoid the central issues intentionally; he didn't plan to bring up any of his hypotheses about "the connection between Soul Artifacts and Ancient Magic." He actually did trust Dumbledore somewhat, but... there wasn't just Dumbledore here—
"Albus?"
From a stairway corner of the office, "Percival" pushed open a door and stepped in. He too wore a purple morning gown, slightly darker in color than Old Bee's.
"Oh, you have a guest—"
The elderly gentleman made his way down the stairs surprisedly as if only just noticing William.
"Good evening, Mr. Grindelwald—"
"Oh, hello..."
The smile on Grindelwald's face suddenly froze, he blinked somewhat bewildered, his gaze instinctively shifted toward Dumbledore, his eyes filled with an accusatory look—didn't you betray the revolution, you thick-browed loyalist?
Indeed, that was the expression!
The corners of William's mouth couldn't help but curl into a joyful curve; he intended for this effect, eagerly awaiting the reveal moment! Now it's your turn to endure the social embarrassment that I experienced!
"... When did you know?"
Dumbledore took off his glasses from his nose after a moment of silence, rubbed his temples somewhat helplessly—he had considered that William might guess Grindelwald's identity, but hadn't expected this day to arrive so soon.
"I suspected for quite some time, I just couldn't confirm it..."
"So you were bluffing just now!"
Grindelwald widened his eyes, looking at William full of disbelief, his tone carrying a hint of grievance.
"Actually, I confirmed it yesterday."
"... I exposed myself?"
Hearing William's explanation, Grindelwald started recalling everything he did yesterday—no, there shouldn't be anything, he only conducted regular lessons for the first and fourth-year students, not even coming across William, just how did he…
"No, I took a visit to Nimangard; Grindelwald wasn't there."
William's words interrupted the two old wizards' trail of thought.
"... How did you get there?"
In response, William didn't give a direct answer but turned his head to look aside.
The two elder wizards' gaze followed, only to see Fawkes perched on one of the wooden racks batting its wings, disinterestedly hiding its head within its golden-red feathers—don't disturb this bird's sleep.