Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

"Protego Maxima" was an advanced version of the Shield Charm.

If roughly one-third of the Aurors in the Ministry of Magic could cast a basic Shield Charm, only a scattered handful could perform Protego Maxima.

The main reason: difficulty.

It required unwavering conviction, immense magical power, emotional stability, and extremely high casting proficiency.

Altogether, these made Protego Maxima as hard to master as the Patronus Charm.

Of course, difficulty alone didn't explain why so few learned it. The real issue was that most Ministry officials were incompetents—not that all of them were. Some, like Percy Weasley, were exceptions.

But beyond that, the spell was considered impractical.

Aurors rarely encountered situations needing large-scale defensive spells. In most cases, ducking behind a wall or an object was enough to avoid danger.

If it served no real purpose, why bother learning it?

Naturally, the few who could perform the spell did it well.

It was a group-protection charm with stronger defense than the standard Shield Charm.

Kingsley raised his wand.

White light expanded outward in a sphere from him.

A sacred-looking dome enveloped the Aurors and Scamander.

CRACK—!

The ice orbs struck. Incredibly fast and devastating, they tore through Kingsley's confident barrier like paper. Five icy meteors crashed down, hitting several who hadn't even tried to dodge.

Both flesh and barrier were pierced clean through.

No blood spilled.

The wounds froze instantly.

"Get the wounded out!" Kingsley ordered with chilling calm. "Summon more Ministry support."

"Go to Hogwarts. Inform Mr. Potter!"

He swung his wand—

Avis!

A chaotic flock of birds exploded forth, their wings flapping frantically, tangling with the Wild Hunt knights. It was a childish spell—but in that moment, it worked, briefly slowing the advancing enemy.

"Hold the line!" Kingsley shouted. "Priority one—protect the Muggles!"

"Buy time for reinforcements!"

He knew exactly what needed to be done.

Wait for the remaining Aurors.

More importantly, wait for Potter and Dumbledore.

The enemy was clearly no easy foe.

Kingsley sighed.

The difference in individual power was too vast. Aurors had grown complacent—ever since Voldemort fell sixteen years ago, their only real engagements had been two goblin rebellions. No real combat experience.

But this "Wild Hunt"—every one of them looked like hardened veterans.

They even had significant experience fighting wizards.

Fortunately, wizards had peculiar spells.

Summoning charms, transfigurations, even joke spells proved surprisingly effective. The Aurors fought and retreated, barely managing to keep Scamander protected despite Caranthir's powerful magic and the Wild Hunt's aggression.

The Ministry's first wave of reinforcements arrived soon after.

Scrimgeour led them personally.

Caranthir, unfamiliar with this world's magic, tried to cast Shadow Lock—but maintaining that spell prevented him from casting others.

Though it wasn't Potter or Dumbledore, their arrival brought Kingsley relief.

Caranthir's expression remained hidden beneath his helm, but his voice hinted at growing frustration.

The Wild Hunt grew more ruthless.

White frost poured through the portal, deepening the cold along the street.

The Aurors were forced to pay dearly to defend Scamander.

Over forty Aurors—half of them were down within ten minutes. Thankfully, none had died. Ordinary swords couldn't inflict real damage on wizards, and though they weren't skilled in advanced spells, their healing charms were fluent.

"Has Potter been informed?" Scrimgeour growled, face flushed, wand slashing the air.

A potion bottle lay by his foot.

It was a brew Snape had refined—based on Harry's proposal for Witcher potions—trading off minor side effects for a temporary doubling of magical power.

Scrimgeour had taken one.

It boosted his Transfiguration spells enormously. In an instant, he conjured a statue the size of a giant. With a few other Transfiguration-capable Aurors, he reinforced it into solid steel—barely enough to withstand Caranthir's ice orbs.

"I've sent someone to inform him," Kingsley said plainly.

Scamander was casting too. Though aged, his skill hadn't diminished—he remained a formidable combatant. "I sent a letter to Dumbledore twenty minutes ago."

"Then why isn't he here yet?" Scrimgeour growled through gritted teeth.

He was reaching his limit.

His heart pounded—easily pushing 200 beats per minute—his blood surged so forcefully it made his veins ache.

"Hogwarts prohibits Apparition," Kingsley replied. "Traveling from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts takes time—but it should be soon."

Scrimgeour clenched his jaw in silence.

Caranthir slammed his staff again, beginning to chant.

Kingsley's face changed. "It's that massive ice orb spell again!"

Scrimgeour aimed his wand. "Finite Incantatem!"

But it had no effect.

Caranthir's magic was objectively real—Scrimgeour's power wasn't strong enough to influence the enemy's will.

"We can't flee—everyone, cast your spells!" Kingsley turned, glancing back at the city. This was a Muggle city—if they failed to protect it, the consequences would be far worse.

He cast Protego Maxima again.

A few other Aurors who knew the spell joined in, strengthening the barrier.

Other wizards used Transfiguration to conjure a thick steel shield in the sky.

They completed their spells just in time.

Caranthir raised his hand.

A colossal ice orb materialized. With the power of white frost, it became denser, colder—and hurtled downward.

The first layer of reinforced Protego Maxima lasted just a second or two—then shattered.

The second steel layer was even weaker—ripped through without mercy.

"Incendio Maxima!"

Someone shouted. The flames struck—but didn't even melt a frostflake.

The orb crashed downward—ready to crush them to pulp, flattening them into bloody smears.

A massive shadow engulfed them.

Then—

"Evanesco."

A young voice recited the spell calmly.

In the blink of an eye, the massive ice orb vanished completely.

----------

Powerstones?

For 20 advance Chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates