"Looks like he's doing quite well?"
Once Dumbledore sat down, William waved his magic wand, and a plate of pastries and a teapot flew over together. "Milk or juice?" he repeated the same question as before. Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, "—Juice would be fine."
"No, have some black tea instead."
William raised a finger, and a cup filled with black tea floated in front of the elder.
"..."
Dumbledore had already gotten used to William's quirky, nonsensical actions in various situations. He sipped the unsweetened tea, nodding "painfully," "Indeed, quite well. Tom's a good kid, as you said. He has nothing in common with Riddle, even if they are essentially the same person—"
"After all, childhood can cause most of a person's psychological trauma. This kid has nothing to do with Voldemort anymore, as if Voldemort drank Mengpo Soup, reincarnated... six times? Just one or two reincarnations probably aren't enough for the Dark Lord to crawl out from the animal path?"
William shrugged, speaking of knowledge points that even the well-informed Dumbledore had to frown upon for a while to understand. Then, he abruptly shifted the topic, "Okay, now it seems Tom is indeed not bad—but you don't look too well, Dumbledore? Take off the gloves and let me see? You're in so much pain you're about to tear up—"
"... Hey, yet you didn't think to add some sugar to my tea?"
Dumbledore sighed. After the joke, the elder's expression became more serious. He slowly took off the thick gloves on his right hand, revealing a clearly shriveled, blackened arm, as if it had been burned by fire. William adjusted his glasses, which he didn't know when he put on, and grabbed the slightly trembling arm to examine it.
"No wonder..."
"...No wonder what?"
"No wonder Tom just said your driving skills are terrible."
"?"
"Just kidding—does this arm still have feeling?"
William smirked, asking in a relaxed tone while poking the elder's fingertips with his magic wand.
"No, it doesn't."
Dumbledore shook his head with a smile, clearly finding William's joke somewhat uplifting.
"Well, that's good. The worst thing would be it still having feeling—curses are much trickier than Muggle ailments."
William scratched his ear, put the old man's arm down, and leaned back in his seat, "So, what happened? A little surprise from Voldemort?"
"Yes—it was that ring."
Dumbledore sighed, his pale blue pupils fixated behind William, seemingly reminiscing. After a moment, he seemed to gather his words, "The ring I dug out from old Riddle's grave, it's a Soul Artifact—"
"Obviously—looking back, I probably shouldn't have left it with you."
William frowned. That ring was what he had dug out from old Riddle's grave, although he also had no idea which of the two in the coffin was old Tom—this was clearly one of Voldemort's revival methods, only this backup didn't take effect.
Neither Jail Tom nor Diary Tom could have expected—William, after killing Voldemort, let Tom Riddle survive.
"...Yes, assuming I didn't know what it was."
Surprisingly, Dumbledore supported what seemed like an attempt to pass the buck. William's expression reflected a rare regret—something seldom seen on his face. The last time it appeared was when William talked to him about the Longbottoms—the reason those Death Eaters targeted them naturally couldn't be separated from that "Savior" prophecy.
If he had been a bit more cautious back then, Snape surely wouldn't have walked straight out of the Hog's Head Inn—
"What—was that ring?"
William froze for a moment. Besides suspecting it was a Soul Artifact, he really didn't know what "special use" that ring had. Compared to a wizard clan's ancestral ring, he was evidently more intrigued by Ravenclaw's Diadem—the rusty crown was still laying on the shelf by the table, looking much cleaner than when William first discovered it in the Room of Requirement.
Come on, a magic item that enhances wisdom—William's been racking his brains figuring out ways to restore it lately.
Though he made some progress, for now, "removing the soul attached to the Soul Artifact without damaging the Diadem itself" still seemed far away from being achieved.
"... Have you heard the tale of the Deathly Hallows?"
Dumbledore answered with a question instead of responding directly.
"The Tales of Beedle the Bard?"
William nodded. He definitely had read that book, and even while he spoke, a copy of the "Tales" flew off a shelf and landed on the table in front of them, pages flipping autonomously, "Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone, Invisibility Cloak—this fairy tale is actually true?"
William blinked. Though he'd heard Grindelwald mention the Deathly Hallows during idle chatter—
Seemingly worried about something, Grindelwald never delved further into it, usually just glossing over the topic, and back then William hadn't realized any irregularity.
"The Elder Wand—"
Dumbledore raised his unharmed left hand and placed his Elder Wand on the table.
"The Resurrection Stone—"
Dumbledore lifted his hand again and placed a rusty black ring on the table.
"..."
"..."
"…And what about the Invisibility Cloak?"
After a long pause, William blinked, still waiting for Dumbledore to lay out all three Deathly Hallows.
"I don't have it—Harry has an Invisibility Cloak that his father left him."
"...Does Grindelwald... know you've already gathered these three items?"
"Of course—not, I haven't told him."
"That's good then. I wouldn't want to wake up one day to find that old man holding a shotgun in my garden—"
William nodded, then picked up the Elder Wand with great interest. He tried channeling magic power into it, but even for spells like Lumos, which he could casually cast a dozen of, the wand's tip showed no response, "It truly recognizes its master."
"Yes, you need to defeat its previous owner—"
"... quite a tempting proposal."
"..."
"But I've always been good at resisting temptation, Dumbledore."
William shook his head, placing the Elder Wand back—he absolutely didn't need such a cherry-on-top item. Avada Lightning Chain, no matter how fortified, could only "electrocute" a group of people before him; it couldn't zap some fool typing at their computer screen—
"So, you used the Resurrection Stone?" he gazed at the ring from the Gaunt Family.
"...I couldn't resist the temptation."
Dumbledore looked at the ring with sorrowful eyes, "Even though I knew full well it couldn't be real."