"... The old way?"
Like a little tail, Hermione followed behind William, repeating it instinctively. She blinked, her brown pupils moving slightly, as if she recalled something, but when she really tried to think back, everything became blurry—
Ugh, darn it! My head's so itchy, I need to grow a brain!
"The situation is different?"
"Anyone who's not blind can see that Harry seems to be inhaling more than he's exhaling—"
William rolled his eyes at Snape's question and then turned his head to Hermione and the Weasley twins, "Before he slept... before he fell into a coma, what was Harry doing? Or did he make any special moves?"
"No clue."
Fred and George said in unison, shaking their heads. They were just helping to move Harry to the medical room; they weren't the creators of Harry's problems, merely Harry Potter's transporters.
"Seems like... nothing?"
Upon hearing William's question, Hermione tried hard to recall everything that happened earlier, then slowly recounted the events after they saw Sirius off that morning, even describing which plate of roast beef Harry had—
"...Then, he received a letter from Sirius and fainted right after reading it. His face turned terrifyingly pale, and however much we tried to wake him, there was no response, which is when others noticed."
"..."
Such a pointed remark; if Sirius hadn't already been given Golden Water, he might have become a suspect again.
"So, where's Blake?"
William turned to Dumbledore, who nodded, "He's arriving soon. The owl couldn't make it in time, so I sent Remus directly to the Ministry of Magic to get him."
Then, speak of Cao Cao, Lupin arrives.
The next moment, the door to the lounge was burst open from the outside. Madam Pomfrey, who was reading at the nurse's station, flew into a rage and stormed out, only to see Sirius's face as if he'd lost a loved one, so in indignation... she got successfully angry.
Things seemed rather serious, and after all, she wasn't some unreasonable shrew...
"What happened to Harry?"
With a loud voice, Sirius asked, causing Madam Pomfrey a frown, but she didn't say anything and instead took the Prophet Daily supplement into the nurses' station lounge, used magic potions for Harry's basic treatment, but to no effect, after which she stopped dealing with him—
But it wasn't for lack of responsibility; the same incident had occurred last year.
"...So, I know you're anxious, but don't be too anxious."
William swung a kettle at Sirius's forehead, attempting to calm him down, as the man—who was about to pounce on Harry to check his condition—retreated in pain, caught by Lupin moving behind him.
Remus's face showed weariness; he had just transformed last night, still feeling uncomfortable, or he would have intended to attend the hearing on Peter Pettigrew with William this morning.
The man also looked at William, without opening his mouth, but his eyes carried inquiry.
"Harry..."
William's right hand grabbed the air, trying to find a fitting term, and finally fell silent, "So, do you know what a 'vegetative state' is?"
"That's a Muggle term—"
Seeing the group of wizards all looking confused, Hermione raised her hand, as if in class, explaining the definition of a vegetative state. It's certainly not supposed to be in the knowledge base of a thirteen-year-old Muggle little wizard, but due to the Time Turner's effects, Hermione's age was nearly sixteen now—
Under the influence of William's bookshelves—which were practically used for show-off—Hermione's knowledge intake was eclectic, ranging from "Journey to the West" to Shakespeare, from "A Brief History of Time" to "Postnatal Care for Sows"… encompassing all, learning it all.
"Yes, it's similar, his brain hasn't completely died, but has already completely lost consciousness, in wizard terms, his soul is no longer in his body, and I still don't know what's affected this occurrence—"
William said solemnly, while he explained, Ron and Neville returned one after the other, the two crowded next to Hermione, and the three little ones began whispering to each other. Finally, William looked at Sirius, who seemed to be listening to a language from heaven, "Before Harry collapsed, he came into contact with your letter—"
"..."
Nearing dizziness from William's elaborations, Sirius couldn't help but scratch his head, fell silent for a moment, then glared, "But it was just an ordinary letter, the parchment was from the Ministry of Magic, the envelope too, even the pen and ink were from the Ministry of Magic..."
Sirius, frantically rubbing his hair, had nearly rubbed sparks into his messy long hair. The man couldn't think of anything suspicious.
While rubbing his head, Sirius's gaze began to scan the room, suddenly, as if finding some truth, he pointed a finger at Snape, who was standing at Harry's bedside staring at the boy, speaking with the confidence of "Edogawa Conan"—
"There is only one truth! It must be Snape, that old villain, who poisoned Harry—"
"Bang—"
"Ouch!!"
Sirius, who had just been hit hard, was about to speak but then saw Professor McGonagall's livid expression. He hesitated and didn't dare to say more. He took a deep breath, finally putting aside the optimism on his face, "Harry... could he die?"
"He won't." William shook his head, continuing to probe Harry with his magic wand, "As long as we find a clue—"
"I might have some inspiration—"
Beside Dumbledore, the usually quiet old man spoke up, instantly drawing everyone's attention.
"What?"
Sirius quickly asked.
"Mr. Potter's condition actually conforms to a certain cursed state, which is..."
Looking around, the old man took a deep breath, no longer keeping everyone in suspense, as colors flashed in his varied eyes, "Avada Kedavra."
"Impossible!"
Sirius instinctively retorted, Avada Kedavra is a killing curse known to almost everyone. A person hit by the Killing Curse can't even become a ghost; their consciousness will simply dissipate, only to straightforwardly embrace death—
This is also why it tops the list among the three Unforgivable Curses.
Though Crucio and Imperio are not lethal, their functionality is terrifyingly strong, yet neither compares to the malice required for Avada Kedavra.
"...it's not impossible."
Grindelwald, who was refuted, appeared to have a good temper. He shook his head and continued slowly explaining, "The same charm, in different hands, can have completely different effects. If used by the greatest black wizard Gr... cough, cough, if used by a wizard with normal mana, it's naturally a killing curse..."
The old man hastily coughed after being kicked subtly by Dumbledore, skipping the self-praising part, "But if the caster is a second-year little wizard who is clumsy in magic spells and has a particularly poor talent for charms, while distracted during class, and the person struck is our key keeper?"
Everyone inadvertently conjured up the image of Hagrid's broad build in their minds.
"...he might sneeze."
"Or have a nosebleed, but it wouldn't be fatal—"
Grindelwald nodded, pleased with William's supportive response. He didn't continue because even without clarification, everyone nearly understood the situation—
The strength of such a charm surely isn't a black-and-white dichotomous state. Maybe there's indeed a balance point allowing someone to hover between life and death, lingering at the edge of both...
Ugh, such a vicious casting method... I must learn it.
William pondered inwardly while continuing to examine Harry's situation—having frequently encountered people killed by the Killing Curse... cough cough, frequently seeing lives taken by the Killing Curse (never mind how), so upon examining Harry, it did seem just as Grindelwald had described.
Although the old guy didn't explicitly say it, William suspected he had seen similar cases.
"...but, at the time we were in the common room, and no one cast a spell."
Next to them, Ron suddenly uttered a foolish remark, but before William could open his eyes to explain, the Weasley Twins, unable to bear it, each took one of Ron's shoulders, pulling the boy aside for a "good" explanation.
"So, what do we do now?"
Sirius gently stroked Harry's cheek, eyes filled with confusion—freed from prison, only to have his sole "family" turn into a vegetable.
The great ups and downs of life...
"Actually, it's not hard; as long as we figure out where Harry's soul has gone—"
"How do we do that?"
"Simple, ask an experienced predecessor."
...
"...what does dying feel like?"
Gryffindor's ghost, Nearly Headless Nick was fiddling with his head. Upon hearing William's question, he scratched his hair, reattached his slightly connected head on his neck, and groped his chin, posing like a thinker.
"Hmm... It's a wonderful feeling. When the guillotine falls, the world seems to go silent, white mist spreads across the entire... palace..." Nick's voice was somewhat dreamy, squinting as though recalling carefully.
"Palace? Shouldn't you have been at the marketplace when you were beheaded?" William noticed a flaw in the man's words and asked.
"No no no, how could it be... huh? Right, I wasn't beheaded at the palace, so why did I see the palace at the time? Hmm... my head's itchy, feels like it's going to grow a brain."