Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

The ring was linked to the Forbidden Forest map kept by Hagrid.

It rarely ever reacted.

After George and Fred graduated, Hogwarts had struggled to find little troublemakers as bold and fearless as them.

Since the map was completed, up until today, the ring had only vibrated three or four times, usually in the autumn.

Each time Harry hurried over, Hagrid had already caught the intruders and tossed them out, giving them a friendly but stern lecture about how young wizards should behave—and that barging into the Forbidden Forest violated school rules.

He'd also deducted a few points—which had left Hagrid pounding his chest with regret, always muttering that if only he hadn't taken those points, maybe Gryffindor would have pulled ahead of Slytherin.

The Gryffindors caught sneaking into the Forest had been furious.

Points weren't everything—Gryffindor's reputation under Harry was already unmatched among the four Houses—but still, they had reformed, focusing on their studies and causing no more mischief.

Since mid-November, with the cold and the drifting snow, no students had dared enter the Forest.

Especially since Hagrid had somehow grown uncannily vigilant—he could locate intruders instantly, even if they used Disillusionment or Transfiguration to hide.

The Forbidden Forest became even more off-limits than ever before.

Hearing Harry's words, Ron glanced outside at the merrily falling snow:

"Probably some student thinking Hagrid wouldn't patrol in this weather."

Harry stood up:

"Maybe.

But I still have to check."

Hermione stepped aside to clear the way, watching as Harry hurried back toward Hogwarts.

By the time he reached Hagrid's hut, the door was shut tight, but warmth radiated from the cracks.

Footprints—large and messy, distinctively Hagrid's—led from the doorstep to the vegetable patch and back.

Harry knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately.

"Harry, you're here!" Hagrid beamed with relief.

"Is it Barty Crouch who entered the Forest?" Harry asked.

Hagrid nodded and stretched out his hand, clutching the Forbidden Forest map tightly.

Barty Crouch's name was prominently marked, weaving carefully through the woods, skillfully avoiding the magical creatures.

But because of this cautiousness, he moved slowly and was still far from the acromantula territory.

"Let's go," Harry said crisply, pushing the door open.

Hagrid hurried after him:

"I wrote Dumbledore a letter. Should we wait for him?"

"A single Barty Crouch," Harry shook his head.

They quickly entered the Forest.

Harry cast spells on them to silence their footsteps and cloak them with the Disillusionment Charm, blending them into the forest.

But after only a few minutes—

"Harry," Hagrid whispered, "he's stopped—but he hasn't reached Aragog's area yet."

Stopped?

"He's moving away—oh, the opposite direction!" Hagrid exclaimed.

Harry pulled out his wand:

"He's noticed us."

"Noticed?" Hagrid looked confused.

"But we're still far away."

Even with Harry's sharp senses, it shouldn't have been possible to detect another group from this distance.

"Use your brain," Harry said bluntly, raising his wand.

He realized instantly.

It wasn't them Crouch had sensed—it was the behavior of the acromantulas.

A cunning rat indeed.

Crouch had noticed that for months, the acromantulas hadn't expanded their territory—a glaring anomaly.

Even though Harry had arranged for the creatures to maintain the appearance of normal territory activity, it was still a giveaway to someone as sharp as Crouch.

He wasn't reckless.

The moment he suspected something, he fled.

And he wasn't fleeing toward Hogwarts—he was making for Hogsmeade.

Yet judging by his route, it didn't look like he had entered from there.

"What a careful little rat," Harry muttered, waving his wand.

Nearby trees twisted violently, transforming into massive steel serpents, which thundered toward Crouch's position on the map.

The ground shook from the noise, every nearby creature startled awake—including Crouch.

Crouch reacted swiftly.

He cast Transfiguration too, twisting a tree into a snake—but it was immediately crushed into splinters by the steel serpents.

Fiendfyre!

Black flames erupted from his wand, a surging inferno that engulfed everything—shrubs, trees, earth itself—devouring the forest hungrily.

"Crouch!" Harry shouted, leaping from atop a serpent's head.

The Fiendfyre, sensing life, roared up toward Harry, tongues of flame stretching eagerly.

Across the blaze, Crouch's face flickered eerily in the black light.

"Finally caught you," Harry said lightly, almost cheerfully.

"This should be our first formal meeting?"

"Should I be more respectful?" Harry teased.

"After all, you were my professor for a few days."

Crouch chuckled softly:

"I'm honored to have taught you."

"But, Potter, are you so sure you've caught me?"

His voice was calm, almost playful.

Harry looked down at him, high atop the steel serpent:

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You think you can escape?"

"Why not?" Crouch grinned.

As they spoke, the fire grew.

Crouch swung his wand.

The black devilish flames surged even higher, spreading rapidly through the Forbidden Forest.

"Go save the Forest, Potter!" Crouch laughed—a twisted, manic sound.

This was his ultimate gambit:

Force Harry to choose between capturing him or saving the magical forest.

And Crouch knew—Harry Potter would never abandon the Forbidden Forest to burn.

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Powerstones?

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