Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

That night, Harry slept in his Animagus form.

He was starting to understand why so many Animagi preferred to stay in their animal forms—being an animal was much more comfortable than being human.

If he had to guess why, he'd say it was because an animal's brain wasn't as developed as a human's. It forced his mind to empty itself, shutting out the countless thoughts and worries that always occupied his head.

The burden of being human was having too many thoughts.

As a wolf, he couldn't think as much.

And so, Harry had one of the best nights of sleep he'd had in ages.

The Next Morning

He woke up feeling refreshed.

After his usual workout, he dragged both Sirius and Lupin out of bed.

Once breakfast was over, they sat together in Harry's room.

Lupin stretched out his hands, already reaching to remove his shirt.

"Uncle Remus, please have some dignity," Harry said, flicking his wand to stop him.

"Remus?" Sirius asked cautiously.

Lupin looked equally confused. "Aren't you going to examine me?"

Harry shook his head. "I have a few ideas in mind. We'll test those first. If they don't work, then we'll check for other causes."

A few?

That word alone made Lupin feel lightheaded.

Lycanthropy had long been considered incurable.

For thousands of years, countless alchemists and Healers had tried to find a cure—only to fail.

The only thing that helped was the relatively recent invention of the Wolfsbane Potion, which merely allowed werewolves to keep their sanity when transformed.

But Harry just casually said he had a few ideas?

The gap between people's abilities was really this big?

Harry pulled a parchment from his pocket and spread it on the table.

He had encountered werewolves many times during his monster-hunting journey.

They weren't unique to this world.

And the werewolves of both worlds were incredibly similar.

In this world, lycanthropy was known as Wolfsbane Syndrome—a disease.

In his previous world, lycanthropy was caused by Lycanthropic Transformation Syndrome—also a disease.

Both worked exactly the same way.

Under a full moon, the infected would lose control, transform into werewolves, and attack indiscriminately.

The only difference...

In his previous world, some werewolves could retain their sanity while transformed—similar to how Wolfsbane Potion worked. Some could even transform at will.

Since the two worlds were so alike—

Perhaps the cure could be similar as well.

The First Method

Harry picked up a quill and wrote:

"Wear a shirt sewn with five parsley leaves during transformation and survive the night."

"...Parsley?" Lupin repeated hesitantly.

Harry nodded.

"That's not even... a magical ingredient, is it?" Sirius frowned, unsure.

"It's not," Harry confirmed. "It's just a regular herb. We had some in our dinner last night."

"And that's supposed to work?" Sirius sounded doubtful.

Harry's tone remained calm. "I have no idea if it'll work, but it's worth testing. Worst case scenario, it just smells a bit strong."

Lupin nodded in agreement.

Harry finished writing it down and moved on.

The Second Method

"Create a potion using a virgin's tears. I'll ask Professor Snape to help with the research."

Both Lupin and Sirius visibly tensed.

Snape.

Sirius opened his mouth, clenched his fists, then forcefully turned his head away, pretending not to hear.

He hated the idea of asking Snape for help.

But if it could cure Remus...

He would tolerate it.

The Third Method

Harry raised his quill—

Then abruptly stopped.

"Actually... never mind."

Sirius immediately grabbed his hand. "Oi! What do you mean 'never mind'?! Tell me the third method!"

"More options mean better chances, right?"

Harry's face was blank.

"The third method... requires a werewolf's lover to express pure, unconditional love—so the werewolf can accept and return that same love."

Silence.

The two adults froze.

"I'd love for this method to be an option," Harry said, tapping his quill against the table. "But the problem is... where's the lover?"

Lupin lowered his head. Sirius chuckled awkwardly.

"Not just Uncle Remus," Harry added, emphasizing his words.

"You too, dear Godfather."

"Can the two of you, combined, even manage a single relationship?"

Sirius protested, "Remus is Remus! I am me! I was very popular at Hogwarts!"

"After James, I got the most love letters!"

Harry remained expressionless. "So... can the two of you, together, form a single relationship?"

Sirius opened his mouth—

Then shut it.

"Exactly. That's why this method is not viable," Harry said, though he still wrote it down on the parchment.

"Of course, if Uncle Remus manages to find me an Aunt, we can try this method."

Lupin let out a bitter chuckle.

Find someone?

No one would willingly date a werewolf. Let alone love one unconditionally.

Sirius smirked at Lupin's misery.

"If you think that's difficult," Harry continued, "perhaps you should start with my dear Godfather first—so you can learn from his experience."

Sirius blinked.

What does this have to do with me?!

"I'm not a werewolf! I don't need a cure!"

"I fully agree," Lupin said, nodding.

"The sole heir of the Noble House of Black—that's quite an attractive title."

Harry chimed in, "Young, handsome, wealthy, and single."

"If I were a woman, even I'd consider marrying him." Lupin added casually.

Sirius shuddered.

"Stop. Stop right there. That's disgusting."

Harry wasn't done.

"You're the same age as my dad was. By now, James's child is already fifteen, going on sixteen—"

"And you haven't even had a girlfriend yet."

Sirius looked defeated.

"Harry, I beg you, stop talking."

"You sound just like my great-great-grandfather."

Last year, he had visited the headmaster's office—

Only to be cornered by his most unlikable ancestor, who had lectured him in almost the exact same words.

'The Black family is down to just you. You should marry. Look at the Weasleys—have as many children as possible! If you can't match their quality, at least compete in quantity!'

And when he returned to the Potter house, his great-great-grandfather had teamed up with Fleamont Potter to continue the lecture.

Harry finally fell silent.

Lupin nodded solemnly. "This is important."

The Fourth Method

Harry continued.

"Find whatever turned you into a werewolf."

Lupin stilled.

His eyes drifted past Harry—past the closed door—past the roaring river of time—

And back to that one night.

"I was born into a wizarding family," he exhaled.

"My father was a good man. My mother was a good woman. I should have had a happy childhood."

"But because of... certain conflicts..."

"My father angered Fenrir Greyback—the most infamous, most vicious werewolf in history."

He hesitated.

"For a time, I resented my father," Lupin admitted.

"But I never thought he was wrong."

"Greyback did what he did to all the children he targeted—he attacked me."

"I was only four when he turned me."

Harry asked, "Was it a bite, or a curse?"

"A bite," Lupin answered flatly.

"Unfortunately, my parents treated my wounds immediately—otherwise, I could've shown you the scars."

He suddenly smiled.

"You know, the scar was the thing that made me cry. At the time, I didn't even understand how terrifying werewolves were—I just cried because the wound hurt."

"Where does Greyback usually appear?" Harry asked.

Lupin's gaze sharpened.

"You're planning to hunt him?"

Harry nodded.

"I don't recommend it," Lupin said immediately. "Harry, I know you're strong, but the risk isn't worth it. If he bites you—"

"I know," Harry cut in.

"But as Sirius said—more options mean better chances."

"And if the first few methods fail—we'll try this one."

Harry paused.

"If you don't want me going after Greyback... then hurry up and find true love. Otherwise, hunting him seems like the more realistic plan."

Lupin gave a helpless chuckle and nodded.

"I'll do my best."

For the next half month, Harry buried himself in studying books about werewolves. Occasionally, he would go out with Sirius and Dudley for joyrides—though more often than not, the Sorting Hat would take itself out for a spin, sometimes even returning to Hogwarts to "borrow" some Gryffindor portraits.

Meanwhile, Harry and Snape exchanged letters at an increasing frequency—more often than he even wrote to Hermione. Some days, they exchanged several letters in a single afternoon.

Hedwig was beginning to relive the exhaustion of delivering letters during the summer before second year.

Snape, of course, did not have a telephone at home.

Despite Hedwig repeatedly slipping him flyers advertising telephone services, the man showed zero interest.

At first, Snape outright refused to help.

But when Harry casually mentioned that if Snape didn't assist, he would have to go to Knockturn Alley or other dark wizard hubs to track down Fenrir Greyback—

Severus Snape immediately changed his mind.

Not only did he agree to assist, but he also declared that this would count as Harry's summer homework—and if he didn't complete it properly, Snape would deduct twenty Gryffindor points per lesson once the school year resumed.

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Powerstones?

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