Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

The Sorting Hat lifted its brim as its tip drooped lazily downward.

The familiar ceiling, the candles floating through the air, and—oh—Minerva's stern face.

Stern, meticulous, perfectly dressed.

And all around, the boisterous, clustered young witches and wizards gathered in the Hogwarts Great Hall.

Hogwarts.

Just hearing the word made the Sorting Hat shiver, its whole form giving a visible twitch.

"Is today the first day of school?" it stammered, full of a kind of wistful loss.

Professor McGonagall grasped its tip and lifted it up to eye level. "Of course. Hasn't Hat always looked forward to this day?"

"I'm sure you're prepared as always."

The Sorting Hat wriggled a little. "Mm, yes, I suppose I am."

"Let's begin the Sorting cheerfully, shall we?"

"The first-years haven't arrived yet, have they?"

McGonagall nodded. "Not yet. It's very foggy today—they might be late."

The Sorting Hat sighed in visible relief, its whole form sagging. "Well, that's... great news."

"I mean—what a shame it is that I won't get to see the adorable children sooner."

That's what it said.

But every wrinkle on its worn surface practically screamed, "Thank goodness, more time."

Placed upon the three-legged stool, the hat mumbled and muttered to itself.

When the new students finally made it past the trail and the lake to enter the castle, the hat reluctantly pulled together a cheery tune, in its usual style—Godric's recent favorite, rock-and-roll—quickly finished and short.

The students burst into applause.

Even the upper years clapped.

"This year's song was actually pretty good," Ron muttered. "I kind of wanted more."

"That was a Led Zeppelin song," Hermione explained. "I've heard it before, though I'm not sure which one."

"What's that?" Ron leaned in, curious. "Never heard of them. With that kind of music, they must be famous."

Harry nodded. "They are."

"It's Sirius's favorite band. Says they're better than the Beatles and the Rolling Stones."

Hermione caught Harry's eye, and both struggled not to laugh.

"But I'm pretty sure Sirius only thinks that because all four of them are as handsome as he is," Harry added dryly.

"They're not wizards," Hermione reminded them.

Ron nodded. "Then I've gotta borrow some of Sirius's records."

As they spoke, the Sorting Hat continued placing students in their houses. This year, Slytherin was surprisingly lively. Except for Hufflepuff, they had the most new students—usually it was Gryffindor, sometimes Ravenclaw.

After the feast, Dumbledore rose with a gentle smile.

"A delightful meal," he said warmly.

"I must say, the house-elves have outdone themselves again."

There was a tinge of helplessness in his smile.

That was Yennefer's doing.

Though she only stayed in the castle for a few days, her high standards left an impression. The house-elves punished themselves for half a month afterward, giving Filch no end of trouble. Though technically he could command them, lacking magic made him quite powerless.

After their self-discipline, the elves trained themselves, even issuing Hogwarts a lengthy expense report during the summer.

The Board of Governors had no complaints. In fact, they sent extra galleons and promised every professor a two-thirds salary increase—even the cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts position.

Their reasoning?

Hogwarts had proven itself again as Europe's finest school of magic. Producing Harry Potter, for one, and this year's O.W.L. scores had seen a strong rebound after years of decline. Hogwarts deserved every knut.

The students wholeheartedly agreed.

"Last year, while not without incident, was, all in all, a peaceful one," Dumbledore adjusted his glasses.

"For the first time in Hogwarts history, all four Houses united to drive out the unwanted."

"Professor Black, too, gave us a wonderful year."

"Twelve students earned an 'Outstanding' in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Over seventy percent passed with certification."

"He was an excellent, beloved teacher. But I must regretfully inform you—Professor Black will not be returning this year. He has more important things to attend to."

He glanced at Harry.

This turn of events had been unexpected.

The Ministry couldn't spare the personnel. Caught in its own inner turmoil, since Scrimgeour took office, they'd received over thirty complaint letters—plus a joint petition involving two-thirds of Ministry staff, pleading for Thicknesse to remain in the Auror Office, or at least be reassigned to his former post as Head of Magical Law Enforcement.

Some of the signatories were known Death Eaters.

Others were pureblood families not yet officially listed.

Scrimgeour had repeatedly proposed reallocating resources to help Harry locate the remaining Death Eaters and goblins.

But the Ministry, under intense pressure, had to first address this very public, increasingly heated dispute.

They had no manpower to spare.

The Order of the Phoenix was few: Rita, Mundungus...

Searching all of London was already difficult—Europe? Impossible. Things were only marginally safer now, and Sirius had joined the search for Voldemort, the girl named Ciri, and the Wild Hunt.

At Dumbledore's words, the Gryffindor table erupted in groans.

They loved Sirius. Alumni or not, Gryffindor was always Gryffindor, and they'd bonded deeply with him.

Dumbledore waved it off. "I believe we'll meet Professor Black again."

"Now, let's welcome our new professor."

"I believe many of you have heard of him—Horace Slughorn. A talented Potions Master, formerly of Hogwarts, mentor to the likes of Severus Snape. Starting this year, he'll return as your new Potions professor."

Slughorn stood, beaming. "Delighted to be here. The atmosphere at Hogwarts is positively uplifting."

"Let's all get along well."

The students started to applaud—then paused, realizing what Dumbledore had not said: "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

But... didn't they already have a Potions professor?

What about Snape?

Dumbledore continued, "Indeed, as some of you may have guessed, starting this year, Professor Snape will take up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

The hall burst into murmurs.

"Professor Snape's skill in Defense is easily on par with his Potions prowess," Dumbledore added, silencing them with a wave. "Both I and Harry can attest—he'll be an excellent instructor."

Snape did not rise. He sat stiffly at the table, cold and silent.

Sparse applause followed.

Dumbledore coughed politely. The major announcements over, he segued into the usual warnings—

Forbidden Forest, Quidditch, joke items...

This was the first Weasley-twin-free year.

Both McGonagall and Filch were visibly more relaxed.

They knew, of course, that no matter how often Dumbledore repeated the ban, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products would still find their way into every corner of the castle.

Still better than dealing with Fred and George in person.

Dumbledore smiled. "I say these things every year. I imagine you're all tired of hearing them."

"So I'll end here."

"But this year will be different. I promise you—we've solved every lingering trouble. This year will be perfect. No surprises."

The students all rolled their eyes.

He said the same thing last year.

Then they got Umbridge and months of misery.

What about this year?

Will the surprise be Professor Slughorn?

"Alright—your beds await. Just as warm and comfortable as you remember. Rest up and prepare for tomorrow's classes. Let's all say... goodnight."

The students left their seats.

Prefects guided the first-years.

Harry and Hermione strolled toward Gryffindor Tower.

"I returned the Time-Turner," Hermione suddenly said.

"Not going for twelve 'Outstandings' on the N.E.W.T.s too?" Harry teased.

Hermione shook her head. "Getting twelve means nothing. Only three people in Hogwarts history ever managed it. But people like you, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout... you could have, if you'd taken every subject."

"Yennefer told me—there's no need to force yourself to be a polymath."

"You grow fastest by focusing where you're strongest."

She clenched a fist. "I'm not taking Divination or Arithmancy this year. But I'm still unsure about Care of Magical Creatures. Will you take it?"

"It's Hagrid's class," Harry replied gently.

Not just because of their bond with Hagrid.

Among all the elective courses, Hagrid was one of the few professors who was a real expert in his field.

----------

Powerstones?

For 20 advance Chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates