Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

"Pure foolishness," Harry said openly, smiling.

Fudge forced a stiff smile.

Foolishness?

Who was he talking about? Surely not himself?

"Tom hasn't returned yet, but he will soon," Dumbledore stated with certainty, sighing. "Cornelius, you should go listen to that prophecy."

Fudge's face froze, his voice defiant. "I know that prophecy."

"But the Dark Lord is already—"

"Just listen to it, will you?" Harry interrupted.

Fudge flinched, swallowing his words.

"I think the Ministry should start preparing," Harry took a deep breath. "At the very least, clean house. Among the Death Eaters I killed today, three were Ministry officials."

"Three?" Fudge jumped up.

Harry looked at him in genuine surprise. "You haven't even checked who the dead were?"

"I— I rushed over as soon as I got the news," Fudge stammered, avoiding eye contact. "Besides, that's the Auror Office's responsibility."

Dumbledore sighed.

Snape let out a mocking laugh.

"Mr. Potter, this is serious," Fudge frowned. "I thought we were dealing with a few Dark wizards, but Ministry officials?"

"They were Death Eaters," Harry replied flatly.

Fudge shook his head, his voice firm. "They weren't necessarily Death Eaters."

"Then they were Dark wizards who tried to kill me," Harry said impatiently.

Fudge kept shaking his head. "No, they were Ministry officials. Maybe they were under the Imperius Curse—"

Harry stood up.

Without hesitation, he drew the Sword of Gryffindor from his hat and swung it at Fudge's head.

No one stopped him.

Fudge's eyes widened in sheer terror as the gleaming blade approached. He wanted to move, to dodge—but his body betrayed his cowardice. He was frozen in place.

The sword halted just before his throat, not even touching.

Fudge felt as if his head had already rolled off. His neck was cold, every hair standing on end, his eyebrows practically clawing at his forehead.

"You could be a Death Eater too," Harry said blankly.

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "Harry."

"Mr. Dumbledore!" Fudge suddenly addressed him with exaggerated respect. "Look at him! He's completely out of control—"

"Cornelius." Dumbledore sighed again. "You really should listen to Mr. Potter. The facts and the prophecy are right in front of you."

Fudge remained silent. He didn't dare speak.

The sword was still at his throat.

"Prepare the Ministry," Harry said gently, as if making a simple request. "Purge the Death Eaters—at least keep things clean."

Fudge was swayed by his "attitude" and nodded with difficulty.

Harry sheathed the sword.

Fudge exhaled sharply, his knees nearly buckling as he staggered behind Dumbledore for protection. "Mr. Potter, no matter what, you'll have to cooperate with the Ministry's investigation."

"After all, this is—"

He never finished his sentence.

Harry interrupted, "I don't have time to play house with you."

"Play house?" Fudge clenched his fists, his face flushing red. "This is about maintaining order in the wizarding world!"

Seeing that Harry was unmoved, he turned to Dumbledore in frustration. "My dear Albus, you need to control your student. He's far too—"

Dumbledore cut him off. "No, Harry is absolutely right. We don't have time to waste on anything else."

Fudge stared at him in shock.

What was going on?

Usually, invoking "the order of the wizarding world" was enough to sway Dumbledore.

But today, it wasn't working?

That reasoning no longer moved him?

"I'll convince Harry to attend the final hearing," Dumbledore said, gripping Fudge's shoulder with surprising force. "But until then, leave Mr. Potter alone. Understood?"

Dumbledore was over a hundred years old.

Fudge had always thought of him as frail, but his grip was shockingly strong, pressing deep into his shoulder.

"Of course, no problem," Fudge muttered, shrinking back.

Dumbledore released him.

"Now then, Mr. Fudge, please leave," Harry flicked his wand, opening the door. "We have things to discuss."

"Me?" Fudge raised a hand, pointing at himself in disbelief.

Harry nodded.

Fudge looked around the room and pointed at Hermione. "This— um, this young lady is leaving with me?"

"No, just you." Harry answered immediately.

Fudge took a deep breath.

His fists clenched.

No—his fists had been clenched for a while now.

He was the Minister for Magic of Great Britain, one of the most powerful figures in the wizarding world.

Even internationally, his position was unique because Dumbledore was British.

And yet—a fourth-year schoolgirl was deemed more important than him?

He was being dismissed so easily?

Fine!

He would leave!

Without hesitation, Fudge marched out of the headmaster's office. He even swung his wand dramatically to close the door lightly behind him.

If they wouldn't ask him to stay, then as Minister for Magic, he had other places to be!

The moment Fudge left—

"I convinced Karkaroff to contact the remaining Death Eaters," Snape said coldly, wasting no time. "However—"

He glanced at the infant corpse on the floor.

"It seems he made another poor choice."

Dumbledore adjusted his glasses and waved his wand, levitating the baby's body. As he examined it with various spells, he asked, "Harry, are you certain he's truly dead?"

"I'm not as foolish as Fudge," Harry scoffed. "I can tell whether someone is alive or dead."

"This child isn't even a year old," Dumbledore murmured, his voice heavy with emotion.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout tightened their grips on their wands, their eyes blazing with fury.

"Tom has always been like this, hasn't he?" Harry's expression remained calm. "Our job is to stop him before he kills more people."

"Have we figured out how to destroy the Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore carefully set the baby's body down and turned to Professor Sprout. "Pomona, find a place to lay this child to rest. If we can find his parents, even better."

"I will," Sprout agreed.

Then Dumbledore looked at Harry. "I have a good idea how to destroy them."

"The Killing Curse, Fiendfyre, Basilisk venom—all of these can destroy Horcruxes."

"Basilisk venom too?" Harry asked, surprised.

Dumbledore nodded. "Any poison that can affect the soul can destroy a Horcrux. After all, it's just a fragment of a soul."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

There were plenty of such poisons stored in the Sorting Hat. Even the venom from the Blast-Ended Skrewts he recently acquired might work.

"But as for extracting the soul fragment," Dumbledore hesitated, "I don't have a completely reliable method yet."

"Pomona only lets me research for eight hours a week."

Hermione flinched, gripping her hands nervously.

She sensed something was wrong.

Professor Sprout immediately explained, "Of course, Albus, I want you to find a way to remove the Horcrux from Harry's scar as soon as possible."

"But the longer you research, the stranger you look at that ring. You nearly put it on multiple times if I hadn't stopped you."

Harry stared at him expressionlessly.

Dumbledore chuckled awkwardly. "The curse is broken. Wearing it wouldn't harm me."

"If you have that much confidence, use it to figure out how to remove the Horcrux from my head, not to test if you can resist temptation," Harry said earnestly.

"Professor Sprout, I'll help you," Snape said. "I have a few spells that will keep Albus awake." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Like Sectumsempra."

"If he can't resist, I'll make sure he wakes up properly."

Harry cut him off. "Let Hagrid do it. Otherwise, Professor Sprout will have to stop both of you."

Snape's face darkened.

It was just the Resurrection Stone.

As if he couldn't resist it.

"Hagrid, he..." McGonagall hesitated. Hagrid was often careless—was this really a good idea?

But unlike Snape, she was self-aware. She knew she couldn't resist the Resurrection Stone's temptation either.

"Hagrid is reliable," Harry smiled softly. "He's simple. His thoughts aren't complicated."

Dumbledore's gaze was complex. "Oh, Harry, you're finally saying something nice—"

"Because if I insult Hagrid, he'd actually think I hate him," Harry interrupted. "You, on the other hand, know my insults are just my way of showing love."

McGonagall stifled a laugh.

Dumbledore sighed helplessly.

"Back to business. How many Horcruxes have we found?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked at Snape.

Snape shook his head. "Aside from this one, we've found nothing. The Dark Lord hid them well. I'm working on it."

"Most of the old Death Eaters are out of contact. Hopefully, Karkaroff brings back some good news."

"Barty Crouch Jr. definitely knows," Harry exhaled. "They had a backup plan."

"Tonight, the Triwizard Cup was one trap. If a full resurrection had worked, that would've been ideal."

"But if it failed—"

"Barty Crouch Jr. would find the Horcruxes and revive Tom that way."

Snape nodded. "I'll push Karkaroff to move faster."

"If all else fails—"

He flicked his wand.

It was the movement for the Imperius Curse.

Dumbledore pretended not to see. He clapped his hands, looking at Harry and Hermione. "Enough thinking for now. Go enjoy the celebration."

"The Great Hall has been ready for ages. We can't let the house-elves' work go to waste."

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