Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

Harry took the Daily Prophet and left the heavy atmosphere of the tent.

Ron hesitated for a moment before daring to peek out. He quickly grabbed the newspaper and skimmed through it.

"How could she write this?" he exclaimed.

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Isn't she afraid Harry might chop her up?" Ron added before Hermione could finish nodding.

Hermione glared at him.

"Harry isn't like that!"

"She's just spouting nonsense," Harry said casually as he tossed the newspaper aside. His face remained calm and impassive.

"It's all pointless babbling."

The words didn't hurt him; they were as weak and feeble as Hermione's occasional threat:

"If you keep this up, I'll report you to the professor!"

"But she's genuinely awful," Hermione said as she picked up the crumpled newspaper, her hands squeezing it so tightly that it crinkled.

"She needs to be taught a lesson. I'm writing to the Daily Prophet to file a complaint—"

"Complaining won't help," Harry interrupted, waving her off lightly.

"Don't worry. If I get the chance, I'll rip her tongue out myself."

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

Ron's face twitched, and suddenly, his own tongue felt sore.

"Harry?" Ron asked cautiously.

Harry stared at the balled-up newspaper in his hands.

"I don't care about criticism. But I hate the idea of her trying to put a leash around my neck. What does she think I am? Dumbledore?"

Ron blinked, startled.

Dumbledore? He wasn't bad at all. Ron couldn't even dream of becoming someone like him.

"Are you really going to rip out her tongue?" Ron asked hesitantly, leaning forward.

Harry shook his head.

"You've reminded me—she writes with her hands. Maybe I should break those instead?"

Ron's eyes widened in horror. That wasn't what he meant at all.

"She's a witch," Hermione chimed in, trying to bring the conversation back to reason.

"Then maybe I'll still need to remove her tongue, just to stop her from casting spells," Harry replied, deep in thought.

Ron gawked at Hermione in astonishment.

"Hermione, you used to never go along with this kind of talk."

When they left the camp, the group decided not to head home immediately. Instead, they went to Diagon Alley to shop for the supplies they'd need for the new school year.

Most of the fourth-year requirements were similar to the previous years, except for one new addition: formal dress robes.

Sirius, as always, was enthusiastic.

He led the boys to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to get their robes custom-made, while Molly Weasley took Hermione and Ginny to shop for dresses.

For the boys, the most traditional and appropriate option was a tuxedo.

Harry's physique had improved significantly over the summer. He had grown taller, now standing at 5.6 feet. He didn't need to hide any physical imperfections like middle-aged men often did.

Though he loathed formalwear for its tight fit, Sirius had a sharp eye. He picked out a deep blue tie for Ron, which made the nearly 15-year-old look a bit more mature despite his youthful face.

For Harry, Sirius chose a gold-and-red tuxedo trimmed with crimson accents. Instead of a mature necktie like the Weasleys, Sirius opted for a wine-red bowtie, softening Harry's sharp appearance.

Harry, already exuding a mature and aloof demeanor, was suddenly more approachable.

To complete the outfit, Sirius added a stag-shaped brooch with emeralds for eyes.

"James and Lily would be so proud to see you grow into the young man you've become," Sirius said, his deep gaze fixed on Harry's reflection in the mirror. His tone was heavy with emotion.

Harry didn't respond. He stared at the mirror, trying to soften his expression.

But no matter how much Harry changed, the face in the mirror would never be James.

The Weasley twins, meanwhile, emerged from their fitting room, laughing and roughhousing. They had already changed back into their wizard robes.

"This is odd. We've never needed to buy stuff like this before," Ron remarked, glancing at Harry. His eyes lingered on the emerald-and-gold brooch, a piece clearly worth more than all three of their outfits combined.

"Lucky it's this year. If it were last year, we'd probably have had to use Dad's old robes," Fred said wistfully as George counted out the Galleons to pay for their outfits. They even considered covering Harry's bill.

But the cost of Harry's ensemble left them speechless.

"It'll be worth it," Sirius said, turning to them with a meaningful smile.

"Trust me. When the time comes, you'll see that this was money well spent."

"What's happening?" Fred asked eagerly.

Sirius shook his head.

"You'll find out when you get to school. Dumbledore will explain everything."

"Dad said the same thing," George said, clutching his chest in mock despair.

"Sirius, come on, tell us! Not knowing is killing us!"

"If it does, I'll make sure my dear business partners get the best graves money can buy," Sirius replied with a smirk, steadfastly refusing to spill the secret.

Ron turned to Harry with a pleading look.

"Harry, you must know something, right?"

"Maybe there's going to be a big event at school this year?" Harry guessed.

"Something involving Ludo Bagman, maybe? A professional Quidditch league hosting a tournament at Hogwarts?" 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The Weasley twins immediately turned their hopeful eyes to Sirius.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not just that. It's bigger than anything you've ever imagined."

He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and grinned.

"Harry, I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do."

Unable to get a clear answer, the twins tried every trick in the book to coax Sirius into revealing the secret but failed miserably.

September 1st

The Hogwarts Express departed under a torrential downpour.

In their compartment, Ron slumped in his seat, holding Crookshanks and heaving a heavy sigh.

"Still no sign of Malfoy."

"What would you do if you saw him?" Hermione frowned, clearly irritated.

Harry picked up the ginger cat, playing with its paws.

"He's been holding in a week's worth of insults. Not finding Malfoy to unleash them on is making him miserable."

Hermione gave Ron a sharp look.

"You're so childish."

"I'm not Harry," Ron grumbled, clenching his fists.

"I don't have his talent."

"Malfoy won't be able to run forever," Harry reassured him.

"When we get to school, bring a few friends with you—just in case."

"House points!" Hermione hissed, giving Harry a nudge.

"This year, house points probably won't matter much," Harry replied thoughtfully.

"Sirius hinted that there'll be a big event this year. Each house might even pick a representative for a competition."

Hermione looked intrigued.

"Then you'd better get bold and learn from the twins."

Ron grimaced.

The train rolled on through the rain, and by the time they arrived at Hogwarts, the downpour had only worsened.

The rain hammered against their heads as they made their way to the castle. High-grade students used magic to shield themselves, but many younger ones were soaked, some even crying.

In the Great Hall, Ron craned his neck to peer at the staff table, noting the empty chair where the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor should have been.

"No professor this year?"

"Not yet," Seamus commented dryly.

"Considering our history, that's not surprising."

"Professor Lupin didn't have any issues," Hermione countered.

"Well, Snape subbed last year and lost an arm," Seamus quipped.

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Powerstones?

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