Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

"I know the Forbidden Forest well," Harry replied casually. "I've been there plenty of times over the last two years."

Hagrid's voice shot up in surprise. "Plenty of times?"

"But I've never run into you during my patrols!"

Harry answered quietly, "We've met plenty of times."

Hagrid froze, his brow furrowing in confusion.

He wracked his brain, trying to recall. His gaze dropped to Fang, who had tucked his tail between his legs and was now cowering near his feet, his boisterous demeanor from earlier gone. Hagrid then looked at Harry, his heart sinking.

"Every time Fang gets spooked, it's been because of you, hasn't it?" A bold theory emerged in Hagrid's mind, and he couldn't help but voice it aloud.

Harry nodded.

"Invisibility Cloak?" Hagrid clenched his fist and gave his palm a resounding thud. "I should've known."

"Harry, you can't keep..."

Hermione cut him off. "That's not the point."

"Harry is more than capable of taking care of himself," she said firmly.

Hagrid muttered under his breath, "Hermione, you're too biased."

Hermione's face turned red as she waved her hands in protest. "I am not biased! I'm just trying to talk seriously about your lessons. Hagrid, please focus!"

"There are many things you need to work on..."

Hermione launched into a stream of constructive criticism.

Hagrid listened intently, nodding along as she laid out her suggestions.

For instance:

Even if he wanted to be partial, there was no need to give out so many points unless he was prepared to act like Professor Snape—stern and unapproachable, keeping everyone at arm's length.

Hagrid had the potential. In terms of magical creatures, no one at Hogwarts could match his expertise. After all, he was the only one capable of subduing an angry Hippogriff with nothing but his bare hands.

He was a natural master in the field.

But unlike Snape, Hagrid lacked the imposing presence to command such respect.

Despite his formidable size, he had the demeanor of a soft-hearted giant.

Of course, listening was one thing. Whether Hagrid would actually take Hermione's advice to heart and act on it was another matter entirely...

The trio didn't linger long, as they still had their final class of the day: Ancient Runes.

Compared to Divination or Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes was much more subdued.

There was no need for wands, nor did they experience the enchantment of rune-based magic.

Essentially, it was a language class, starting with the basics of learning the alphabet.

In their first lesson, they covered sixteen characters.

Professor Bathsheba Babbling announced that the lessons would remain like this for at least three weeks. Though the subject was dry, she assured them it would prove invaluable.

Ron struggled to stay awake. Rubbing his temple, he glanced at his schedule. "At least tomorrow we only have three classes."

"Our next Runes lesson is on Thursday... oh no, it's right after Potions."

He sighed in despair, seeing two of his least favorite classes stacked together.

Hermione corrected him impatiently, "They're not back-to-back. There's Defense Against the Dark Arts in between."

"But Lupin's going to assign more essays," Ron groaned.

Hermione replied earnestly, "At least we're catching up on what we missed the past two years."

Ron sighed again as he followed them to the Great Hall for dinner.

After their meal, they returned to the common room, but Harry headed for Dumbledore's office.

It was time for his first detention of the school year.

Harry spoke the password and entered the office.

"Harry, you're a bit early," Dumbledore said, exasperated. McGonagall had already informed him that Harry was unusually eager about his detentions.

During his first year, Harry had at least tried to come up with excuses.

By the end of his second year, he didn't even bother to ask for permission—he simply declared his intentions and scheduled his own detentions.

Even Flitwick, rubbing his back, had advised Dumbledore to approach the matter cautiously.

Dumbledore, ever optimistic, had dismissed their concerns.

He'd seen many hardworking students in his time and considered diligence a virtue.

But now, seeing Harry standing before him so promptly, Dumbledore began to feel an ominous foreboding.

"This is my only chance this week," Harry said, walking into the room. He waved his wand, rearranging the furniture to clear space, even moving Dumbledore's chair aside. "Time doesn't wait for anyone."

Dumbledore stood, shaking his head. "I know you're under a lot of pressure."

"That prophecy—yes, I've heard of it. The Ministry even sent someone to record it officially."

"Lupin also mentioned your performance in class. Rest assured, as long as I'm here, Hogwarts won't face the fate you're afraid of."

"Does Lupin know he told you this?" Harry countered.

Dumbledore paused. "Let's just say he did."

"What do you make of the prophecy?"

Harry shook his head. "There's no need to dwell on prophecies. If it's spoken, it's bound to happen. Instead of trying to decipher it, I'd rather focus on getting stronger."

Dumbledore's face lit up with approval. "It's good that you think that way. But as for the prophecy..."

"Perhaps we can discuss it after class?" Harry interjected, drawing his wand.

Detention ended with curfew, so there was no time to waste.

Dumbledore relented, pulling out his own wand. "Alright, Harry. What would you like to learn first?"

"The Patronus Charm?" Harry suggested, glancing out the window at the Dementors hovering in the distance, their presence unsettling.

Dumbledore nodded. "A wise choice."

"Shall we review the basics of the Patronus Charm?"

Harry recited, "Focus your mind, recall your happiest memory."

"But you've likely noticed something else?" Dumbledore pressed.

Harry nodded. "Positive emotions are the foundation, but to give it form requires a belief in protection—just as the spell's name implies."

"Exactly."

Dumbledore demonstrated, raising his wand. Without uttering a word, a silver phoenix materialized, landing beside Fawkes.

The real Fawkes chirped affectionately at its counterpart.

"Of course, things are a bit different for me," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I didn't experience the transformation from an ordinary Patronus to a magical creature."

"The Dumbledores are a renowned Phoenix family," Harry replied flatly, without a hint of jealousy. "You're able to form a bond with a phoenix directly."

"Indeed. That bond alters our Patronus by default," Dumbledore explained, his gaze distant. "But a friend and I once researched this spell..."

"We studied how to evolve a Patronus from a mundane animal into a magical creature." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"And?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "It's actually quite simple."

"Strong spells don't have to be complicated," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Few are as intricate as Animagus transformations."

"But achieving it is far from easy."

The evening passed with Harry diligently practicing under Dumbledore's guidance.

By curfew, Harry's casting had improved significantly, though the transformation he sought remained elusive.

"Let's call it a night," Dumbledore said, finally waving his wand to reset the room.

As Harry drank the milk Dumbledore handed him, the headmaster remarked, "That prophecy... you're aware, aren't you?"

Harry stayed silent, deep in thought.

"Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said softly, "was born at the end of December."

Harry's eyes widened, the words of the prophecy echoing in his mind:

"The one born in December shall slowly awaken."

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Powerstones?

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