Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

Ron froze in place.

Harry and Hermione were just as surprised, their voices overlapping as they asked, "How did you give a heads-up?"

Ron felt a bit stuck, wondering if he had eaten too many pork knuckles tonight. Maybe he should go lighter tomorrow, just a roast chicken.

Harry waved for Hermione to speak first.

"I had Crookshanks talk to Mrs. Norris. I asked them to make sure Filch wouldn't come near this place tonight," Hermione said.

Harry nodded. "Same here. I had Hedwig deliver a bag of treats to Mrs. Norris to bribe her into staying away tonight."

Both turned to look at Ron.

Ron flinched, raising his hands in defense. "Don't look at me! Scabbers has already run off. Even if he were still here, I'd never send a mouse to face a cat!"

"Then you've got nothing to worry about," Harry said, pulling out his wand. He waved it lightly, locking the door to the classroom and drawing back the tattered curtains.

Pop-pop.

The abandoned desks along the walls transformed into two candles, their flames casting a warm glow.

Ron looked on enviously.

Though he could perform similar magic, he could never make it look so effortless. He'd have to handle each step one at a time.

"Before we get into dueling practice, I need to see what you're capable of," Harry said as he stepped aside. "You two duel first. Let me observe."

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

They moved into position, standing across from one another, bowing politely before turning to glare at Harry.

"What are you staring at me for?" Harry asked after a long silence, confused.

"Aren't you supposed to count us down?" Ron retorted, entirely serious.

Harry opened his mouth, then sighed deeply, exhaling all his thoughts in one breath. "Let me correct your first mistake."

"In a real fight, there's no room for such formalities."

"Bowing? Forget about it."

"Did Tom bow to you that day?"

"Never show mercy to your opponent."

Ron nodded thoughtfully.

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione struck first, swift and decisive. A red light hit Ron, making him stumble back as his wand flew from his hand and clattered to the floor.

"That was too sudden, Hermione!" Ron protested as he scrambled to retrieve his wand, crawling on hands and knees to pick it up and dust it off with his robes.

"That's what Harry said—no formalities," Hermione replied smugly, twirling her wand in triumph.

Ron gritted his teeth. "Again! You ambushed me!"

They squared off again, bowing almost instinctively.

But this time, just as their heads lowered—

"Expelliarmus!"

Ron struck first, putting Harry's advice into practice.

Hermione, however, was ready. She dodged to the side and cast a spell of her own. The remaining broken desks twisted and morphed, reshaping into small ginger-colored cats.

The transformation was rushed and crude, with the "cats" barely resembling the real thing.

Yet somehow, their sloppy appearance made them look even more like Crookshanks.

"These won't work on me!" Ron snarled, gritting his teeth as he cast another spell.

Flames surged forward, engulfing the cat-like figures.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

A spell shot through the flames, hitting Ron squarely. His furious expression froze in place as he was paralyzed.

Harry waved his wand.

The flames vanished, the cats reverted to desks, and Ron was released from the Full Body-Bind Curse.

"Have you been practicing dueling on your own?" Harry asked Hermione.

Hermione's cheeks turned slightly pink. "I wrote down the tips you gave us last year. Sometimes I practice by myself."

Ron was shocked. "I didn't know that."

"Me neither," Harry added.

Hermione fidgeted. "Sometimes, when I get up early and can't focus on reading... Harry, you'd already be out training, and Ron, you'd still be asleep."

"Your strategies are solid and your tactics clear," Harry praised her. "As for weaknesses, there are plenty."

Hermione's face fell.

"But for a beginner, you're doing quite well. The most important thing to work on is your footwork. In a wizard duel, movement is key." Harry continued, "Your footwork should complement your tactics."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"And Ron." Harry turned to his red-haired friend. "Your flaws are much more obvious."

"First of all, you have no strategic thought."

"Spells need to work together. When you cast that fire spell, what was your goal?"

"To burn those Crookshanks—er, those conjured things to ashes," Ron muttered, still irritated.

"And then what?" Harry asked.

Ron looked puzzled. "What do you mean, 'then what'?"

"Like Hermione's move. She used a Transfiguration spell to distract you, disrupt your focus, and hide her Petrification spell among the decoys," Harry explained. "You, on the other hand, only thought about burning her conjurations. After that, did you anticipate her next move? Did you plan a counter-strategy?"

Ron lowered his head, grumbling, "But she humiliated me by conjuring cats. Of all things!"

"Verbal attacks can be crude, but they're effective," Harry said with a straight face. "When two evenly matched opponents fight, whoever loses focus first is likely to lose the battle." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Then he added, "Remember the first Care of Magical Creatures lesson?"

"Your banter with Malfoy worked perfectly."

Ron opened his mouth. "That wasn't for Malfoy! Thank goodness I held back, or I'd have sent him straight to the hospital wing."

"You probably wouldn't have beaten him," Harry replied bluntly.

Ron put his hands on his hips. "I'm third in the year; he's only fifth."

But under Harry's calm gaze, he shrank back. "Fine, but at least I could beat Crookshanks now, right? So stop bringing that up—"

"Maybe," Harry said, a bit uncertain.

Ron froze, gritting his teeth. "What do you mean, 'maybe'?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Harry replied matter-of-factly.

Ron threw his hands up in exasperation. "I know what 'maybe' means, but what do you mean?"

Harry dismissed the question with a wave. "The best way to improve is through real combat. Now, the two of you attack me together. Don't hold back."

"Both of us?" Hermione hesitated.

Ron scoffed. "Don't worry about Harry. He went toe-to-toe with Tom and held his own."

"If he gets serious... well, you remember that day."

Even two against one, they weren't confident they could win.

By the time they stopped training, it was 1 a.m. Hermione seemed reluctant to quit, eager to keep going. But with classes the next day, they all needed sleep.

Ron rubbed his face. "Now I get why Flitwick looks the way he does."

"Harry, is this how you spent your entire summer with him?"

Harry nodded. "The professor's getting older. Last year, we had two practice sessions a week. This year, it's down to one."

"Two hours each?" Hermione asked, her hands still trembling.

Harry shook his head. "Usually an entire day."

"Wow..."

Both of them were speechless with awe.

Flitwick truly lived up to his reputation.

They were already exhausted after just two hours. How could he manage an entire day?

The next morning, at around 8 a.m., Ron finally dragged himself out of bed. His body ached all over, his legs and back sore beyond belief.

When he emerged from his dormitory, he found Harry and Hermione already deep in discussion about spell theory.

"You two are up early," Ron grumbled, his tone aggrieved.

"You're up late," Hermione replied sternly. She flicked her wand, and a roll of parchment floated out of her bag.

With a tap of her wand, she cast Geminio.

The parchment duplicated itself and flew to Ron.

"What's this?" Ron asked, puzzled, as he caught it.

"Notes from last night. Did you think Harry was just scolding us? He explained the importance of footwork and spell timing very clearly," Hermione said.

Ron clutched the parchment tightly but groaned, "I wish Professor Potter had just been scolding me."

"Then let Professor Potter give you another assignment," Harry said with a soft smile. "By Sunday, I want a five-inch essay on dueling techniques."

"Oh, no!" Ron groaned louder.

Hermione huffed. "I'm doing it too. It was my idea."

Ron stared at her in disbelief.

How could someone volunteer for homework?

Was this the power of being second in the year?

"Don't look so glum," Harry said, standing up. "I've got good news."

Ron eyed him warily. "If you're going to tell me we're adding a fourth weekly training session, I don't want to hear it."

"It's about Saturday," Harry said cheerfully. "Remember what I promised last year?"

Ron paused, thinking back. "If I made it to third place, you'd take me to the Forbidden Forest?"

Harry nodded. "Saturday, I need to go. Gryffindor's map is outdated—magical creatures' territories and even the terrain have shifted. We need to redraw it. Are you coming?"

Ron's face lit up. "Of course!"

"I've been dying to go. Fred and George went when they were second-years and said it was amazing."

"It is," Harry agreed. "Hermione, what about you?"

Hermione hesitated briefly, then reached into her robes and nodded. "Count me in."

The promise of exploring the Forbidden Forest put Ron in high spirits for the next few days.

By Saturday, he was so excited that he even outperformed Hermione in their nighttime dueling practice.

When the day arrived, the castle buzzed with joy as students celebrated their first break from heavy coursework.

Fred and George led a group of Gryffindors in scheming ways to storm the Slytherin common room and "rescue" Draco Malfoy.

Percy, pretending to have student council duties, quietly left the room, ensuring he didn't overhear anything.

Meanwhile, Harry gave Hermione and Ron a two-hour crash course on survival skills—what to carry and how to prepare for emergencies.

Only after thoroughly stocking up on potions, ingredients, and supplies did they head out, sneaking toward the Forbidden Forest.

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Powerstones?

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