Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

Sprout was displeased—deeply displeased.

Cairns hunched his shoulders, not daring to speak again.

"Professor Sprout, it hasn't come to that yet," Harry rubbed his eyes. "I can last another three or four days like this—I just don't want to go."

"I'm curious what's behind the door too, but there are more important things to do right now."

He finished two biscuits and counted them off on his fingers. "Thank you, Mr. Flynn."

"The Department of Mysteries always welcomes you!" Cairns responded immediately, reverently. "When will you come again?"

"Whenever you like, no appointment needed, just show up," he said.

Harry nodded. "Professor, let's go."

"Harry, you—" Dumbledore frowned.

Harry cut him off. "I mean back to the old Potter house. I need proper rest now. Albus, be careful not to rattle all that stuff in your head loose."

"My body might be better than most, but it's not invulnerable."

Dumbledore nodded with a helpless smile. "I thought you'd be eager to get going."

"Why rush?" Harry shook his head. "Why rush into a trap Voldemort set while I'm in this state?"

As he spoke—

Cairns blinked and leaned back, momentarily stunned. Sprout tensed up again.

"He figured you'd go?" Dumbledore mused.

Harry nodded, stepping up the stone steps. "Obviously. He still has some brains left—at least a bit more than his last self. Besides, when we arrived earlier, someone had already tipped him off."

"Tipped him off?" Cairns' voice rose, sharp. "A Death Eater in the Department of Mysteries?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That's what we believe."

Cairns clenched his fists. "I haven't recruited anyone new in years..."

"Since over a decade ago," Harry cut him off. "The Department of Mysteries has been leaking like a sieve for a long time."

Cairns opened his mouth, stunned and at a loss.

"Which ones?" he asked with a grim face as they reached the middle of the hallway.

Harry waved it off. "Dumbledore and I are just ordinary wizards. We're only making a suggestion—you might want to consider trusting Scrimgeour."

An Auror, huh.

Cairns said nothing, just nodded silently.

After exiting the Hall of Death, Cairns looked around at the silent Unspeakables passing by, grinding his teeth. He had believed that, like him, these wizards who had dedicated their lives to unraveling the mysteries of the world couldn't possibly be Death Eaters—or members of the Order of the Phoenix. But reality was far beyond what they'd imagined.

Now, he saw every face as suspicious. He couldn't fathom what kinds of souls might be hidden beneath those seemingly honest exteriors.

Harry and Dumbledore left shortly after.

Cairns took a deep breath and quickly walked out, heading up to Level B2 to find Scrimgeour.

The Old Potter House

Lively and bustling—Sirius was sparring with Lupin, their duel heating up, while Tonks stood by filming with a camcorder.

Grimmauld Place was the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, but Sirius rarely stayed there. He used to hate it; now, it was simply too hard to face.

Kreacher was cleaning, the locket pendant on his chest swaying.

Ever since the locket was destroyed, Kreacher had shown Sirius, Harry, and Dumbledore a level of respect befitting true masters.

After replenishing food and water, Harry returned to his room and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, not waking up until the next afternoon.

Living Room

Sirius and Dumbledore were sitting on the sofa. The man in his thirties had apparently come to appreciate the joy of learning during this time, eagerly asking the old headmaster endless questions.

"Harry, finally!" Sirius exclaimed the moment he saw him, tossing the book into Dumbledore's lap.

Harry nodded. "How long did I sleep?"

"A whole day," Dumbledore replied, placing his hands on a cabinet. "Would you like something to eat?"

Harry sat down, rubbing his stomach. "Absolutely."

"My body felt numb before—I didn't feel anything. But now, after a good sleep, I'm starving."

As soon as he said that—

A juicy, steaming steak silently appeared in front of him. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Along with ten slices of white bread, a glass of red wine, and a neatly cut fruit salad.

Harry stared at the silver utensils bearing the Potter family crest, lost in thought.

Hmm.

As far as he remembered, the Potter family didn't have anything this fancy.

"Kreacher made it," Sirius said, his face half-amused, half-mocking. "He's gotten much better, but after all, he's a house-elf. You know how they are—they're not exactly right in the head."

"He said the Potters will become as great as Dumbledore, and the family should have the things it deserves."

Harry picked up the knife and cut a piece. "Maybe we should change the crest to a griffin... or a wolf. Actually, wolf sounds better."

Sirius immediately looked wounded. "Harry, you're so biased toward Remus."

Harry reassured him, "Don't worry, once Uncle Remus' lycanthropy is cured, he won't be a wolf anymore."

Sirius opened his mouth.

Was that really the issue here?

One steak and ten slices of bread weren't enough for Harry. As soon as he showed the slightest desire for more, the empty plate was whisked away and immediately replaced with a fresh serving.

Harry finally understood why so many pureblood families, even after falling into decline, still insisted on keeping a house-elf.

This lifestyle was hard to imagine.

At Hogwarts, it hadn't seemed like much. The kitchen elves there were few and couldn't serve every student personally. But at home, with a house-elf watching your every move, every glance and eyebrow raise, interpreting even the tiniest cues to serve you—

It was worth it.

His view on house-elves shifted, just a little.

After eating his fill, Harry wasn't in a rush to leave.

Hunters, before setting out for a hunt or a journey, always prepared thoroughly. He maintained the Sword of Gryffindor and the Basilisk Fang sword, replenished his potions and supplies, and packed five of the alchemical bombs developed by George and Fred.

Two days later

Dumbledore took Harry via Apparition—and in the next moment, they appeared on a remote island.

They stood on a seaside cliff.

In the distance, a few fishing yachts cruised along. Harry could hear the chattering voices of men and women.

Lundy Island.

The largest island in the Bristol Channel—this bear-shaped island had become one of the most popular tourist spots among capitalists and middle-class travelers.

"When Grindelwald and I came here, it wasn't like this," Dumbledore said with surprise, peering around. Muggles hadn't noticed them.

Harry looked at the towering hotel nearby and shook his head. "Human development is always more than we expect."

Sirius had told him this.

As a Daughter of Fate with ancient blood, she had traveled to many worlds. In one of them, they had developed to the point where machines replaced bodies. In their world, such ideas still only existed in science fiction movies and TV shows—movies Dudley loved, and which had caught Sirius' interest too.

"Gellert was right about some things," Dumbledore murmured. Now that Harry knew about the past, he didn't shy away from mentioning him.

"The entrance to Avalon is on this island?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, it's nearby. We start here."

They cast Disillusionment Charms on themselves and quietly made their way to the shore.

At the port—

A tall, white lighthouse. Yachts and cruise ships docked.

They conjured a small boat in the cove and climbed aboard. Dumbledore steered them out.

A cruise ship happened to be leaving the port. Not seeing the concealed pair, it sailed straight toward them. The wake splashed water all over Dumbledore. Harry, already protected by magic, remained dry.

"You look pretty silly like that," Harry said, expressionless.

Dumbledore cast a drying charm on himself. "I just wanted to experience the charm of Muggle transportation."

"A ship like that—it's unimaginable to most wizards."

Harry didn't respond.

That only applied to "most" wizards.

Their boat quickly overtook the cruise ship, darting through the water like a swordfish. After navigating around several reefs, a thin fog rose, engulfing the sea and swallowing them.

Dumbledore brought the boat to a stop. "Harry, this is as far as I go."

"I can't enter Avalon."

Harry nodded and conjured another boat for himself. "Then wait here, Albus. No idea how long I'll be. If Voldemort escapes, block him."

"Of course," Dumbledore said.

Harry boarded his boat, turned on a flashlight, waved his wand to summon a breeze, and set sail.

The deeper he went, the denser the mist became.

He lost all sense of direction and just sailed straight ahead.

After his first meal onboard, the mist suddenly cleared—and a sacred, picturesque island appeared before him.

"Avalon?"

Harry murmured, guiding his boat closer. The waters around the island looked different from the sea—pure blue and white, like Grindelwald's eyes.

Clunk.

The boat hit soft sand and stopped.

Harry stepped onto the bow and jumped down, looking up.

Ahead was a lush apple grove—utterly still, no signs of life.

No...

Harry inhaled deeply. He could still sense life in the distance.

Several holy presences, deeply concealed.

And a few foul ones—Death Eaters tainted by the Dark Mark, oozing rot and filth. The stench was stronger than before, and though he hadn't seen them yet, he could smell them on the wind.

So, Voldemort had arrived first, and even brought his minions with him.

This stench—was it the price of entry?

Harry drew a deep breath, waved his wand, cloaked himself in the Invisibility Cloak, and walked across the sand into the apple grove.

----------

Powerstones?

For 20 advance Chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates