An Attempt

"Gryffindor's sword is at Hogwarts?"

Tom glanced at Manus, astonished by the enormous change in the man before him compared to his last visit, while also having to seriously consider the question Manus had raised.

Ever since learning of his current situation, Tom had been unable to sleep properly every night. He also knew full well that if his original self learned of his condition, he would be the same—unable to sleep until he had gotten rid of him.

"If it were me, then knowing the whereabouts of such a treasure, I would definitely want to get my hands on it."

After careful thought, Tom gave an affirmative answer. He believed this was something that would not change with the passage of time.

"Then, if this information is true, who do you think might know about it, and how could you find out?"

"This... Dumbledore, as the current headmaster, should know. If Gryffindor has any blood descendants, perhaps they would know as well."

"As for the latter question, I truly have no idea. I don't even know which people and forces 'I' currently control. How could I give you a possibility?"

Tom frowned. He was merely Tom Riddle from decades ago. How was he supposed to answer a question built entirely upon assumptions?

"Mm, you're right."

Manus nodded.

In fact, if Tom truly knew anything relevant, he might not even realize that he "shouldn't know" it, and would simply continue making things up according to Manus's premise...

"I'm done with my questions. Your turn."

Trading questions for questions was a condition Manus and the two Toms had agreed upon when they formed their respective partnerships.

Tom took a deep breath and deliberated for a while before asking,

"Why do you look so different from when you came last time?"

"Because