"I thought you'd sleep a little longer?"
"I've rested enough lately, I'd rust if I lay there any longer... Oh, you have so many gifts? What did Dumbledore give you?"
William, already fully dressed, walked into the teacher's room behind the Muggle Studies Class. The room had drastically changed from before, with all sorts of random things piled messily together. The only thing that made it resemble a residence was the single bed in the corner, though it was also covered with heaps of parts and firearms—
Grindelwald, dressed in work clothes, sat by the table, using a magnifying glass to study the magic runes on the gun barrel.
"Why do you ask?"
Without turning around, Grindelwald picked up a carving knife and carefully scraped the metal piece in his hand. "Are you interested in our love life?"
"Not really—so, has Voldemort contacted you lately?"
William cleared his throat a couple of times and changed the subject. The letter he received was sent by Grindelwald—William couldn't understand why, despite being only two floors apart, Grindelwald insisted on sending letters.
"More or less, I gave him the tournament plans you guys drafted — he said he doesn't plan to act."
"... Why?"
William took the note from Grindelwald's hand, gently pinching the charred edges until they crumbled.
"Because I heard you're planning a 'Battle Royale'?"
Grindelwald frowned and thought for a moment, then his brows relaxed slightly. "So, what exactly have you done to that maniac? I feel like he gets a bit triggered every time he hears your name—"
"Oh, nothing much."
William reminisced for a moment and then shook his head.
What did he do? Nothing noteworthy, really. Just almost shattered Voldemort's soul once, nearly captured him alive another time, and chased him into an Illusory Realm for a beating... He couldn't handle that? This guy's a bit too fragile, isn't he?
Right, the guy probably forgot. A certain 16-year-old Little Tom had returned to Voldemort's body, and the suffering he endured... Well, William's expertise in soul magic at that time was pretty basic, and his methods were quite crude in some situations...
To put it simply, William basically bundled up Little Tom and threw him into a "blender," then fed the "fresh-pressed apple juice" to Harry Potter.
Tearing a soul into pieces and grinding it into dust weren't on the same level of pain at all.
So, now, whenever someone mentioned William's name near Voldemort, the deep-seated fear from Little Tom would cause Voldemort to lose his composure. Voldemort was very frustrated at this; he didn't consider himself afraid of the damned William, but there was nothing he could do about his "other half"—
"... How likely is it that he's lying to you?"
After pondering for a moment, William frowned and rephrased the question.
"I don't know. I can't fathom how a madman thinks, William—" Grindelwald shook his head. "I'm not a madman..."
"Can't really see the difference..." William raised his eyebrows and mumbled softly.
"?"
"Ahem, I mean, besides this, is there anything else you needed me for?"
"... What else?"
"... So, you actually could've written all this in the letter, Mr. Inventor."
"Yes, but I still wanted to make you take a trip, Mr. Capitalist."
Grindelwald had gotten used to smiling without showing his teeth. It's hard to say whether this had anything to do with the fact that he now had few teeth left. "Thanks for the Bone Regeneration Potion, though I'm not sure if it'll work on teeth. Oh well, here's your Christmas gift—" Seeing signs of William getting annoyed, he opened a drawer and took out a box.
"What... Oh, a Glock, a plastic gun."
William picked up the small black handgun, "G18... I always have this urge to blow someone's leg off." He mumbled instinctively, then, noticing the switch next to the hammer, his eyes gradually widened, "No, wait, is this... Whoa, did you get it fully automatic?"
Grindelwald smiled without speaking, but judging from his satisfied expression, he quite enjoyed the emotional value brought by William's exclamations.
"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat—"
"Whoa!"
Seeing the stone he'd conjured being blasted into fragments, William couldn't help but exclaim again—using full-auto with The Blasting Curse, this is... Wait, "Isn't this just high-explosive ammo?"
"No, actually, the bullets can also be loaded with the Repairing Charm—"
Grindelwald stood next to William, also picking up a G18 and squeezing the trigger, causing the stone William had just shattered to revert to its original shape. "Use your imagination, my friend."
"... Awesome."
William was silent for a moment and chose to give a thumbs-up.
...
Time quickly passed into the evening, and the bustling foyer was packed with a colorful crowd.
"So many people."
William, having changed into a suit, came down from the stairs and adjusted his slightly tight collar. It was a black suit with no exaggerated decorations or frills, the inner shirt being a pale blue, which was the only bright color on him besides his blue eyes.
"Looks great."
Lupin adjusted his glasses, his attire vastly different from usual. A dark red suit was impeccably tailored, and he had trimmed his beard, the golden whiskers lightly quivering in the cold air. Beside him stood a striking blonde in a burgundy gown, matching Lupin perfectly.