Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

The word "nearly" was spoken at the same time as the sound of the bottle being uncorked.

Harry frowned. "Nearly a month?"

"Has it been more than a month, or not quite a month yet?"

The Baron poured himself a glass. "Does it really matter?"

"It matters," Harry nodded.

This determined where he would continue searching for Ciri.

According to Dandelion and Zoltan, Ciri stayed in Novigrad for at least a month.

If it had already been over a month, then he would need to find a way to cross the sea with Hermione and head to the Skellige Isles.

"Let me think," the Baron took a long swig. "Not quite a month yet."

Harry nodded.

The Baron continued, "Hey, Witcher, why don't you sit down? I'll tell you all about Ciri."

"No need. I already know where she went," Harry shook his head.

The Baron set his cup down. "Alright then, very well. You should tell me now—where are Anna and Tamara?"

"Your daughter, Tamara, is in Oxenfurt," Harry said calmly. "She's with the Eternal Fire."

The Baron visibly relaxed.

The Eternal Fire wasn't exactly the most benevolent group, but it was the most powerful religious sect around. At the very least, she would be provided for and protected—she wouldn't be living in the wild, struggling for food or facing monster attacks.

"And Anna?" the Baron pressed.

Harry shook his head. "I can only tell you that she's safe for now."

The Baron's eyes grew sharp, and his hands pressed firmly on the desk. "Are you playing with me, Witcher?"

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "I know what you're planning."

"But it's no use. You can't rescue your wife right now."

The Baron slammed his elbow down. "I'm a baron. I have my own army."

"Your title is good for intimidating peasants," Harry replied matter-of-factly. "But it's not enough to rescue your wife."

The Baron poured himself another drink. "And you, Witcher?"

"Can you rescue my wife? Whatever the cost, I'll pay it. Even the rule of Velen—"

"You should know by now, Witchers stay out of politics," Harry interrupted. "I can do it, but not right now."

"Ciri's situation is far more urgent."

"When things are settled with her, I'll come back and take your contract."

The Baron scowled. "Rescuing my wife might only take a day or two—"

Harry shook his head again. "Not even a single day can be wasted."

The Baron stared down at his cup, expression dark and unreadable. The dim light in the room made him look even more haggard.

"One more piece of information," Harry offered, "in exchange for a travel pass to Novigrad."

The Baron raised his head. "Speak."

"Your wife's miscarriage—it wasn't your fault," Harry said quietly. "It was her choice."

The Baron's eyes went wide, disbelief washing over his face. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," Harry nodded.

The Baron drained his cup, then shook his head with a bitter laugh. "You really are a Witcher—asking me to pay for that kind of news."

Harry said nothing.

The Baron took a breath. "Are you planning to leave tonight, or would you prefer to stay the night?"

Harry turned back to look at Hermione. "Let's rest for a night."

He could still push through, but Hermione was clearly worn out. Two days and one night without sleep would be hard on anyone who hadn't trained for it.

The Baron arranged a room for them.

When they reached the room, Hermione sat on the bed and furrowed her brow. The living conditions were far below even the standards of the Gryffindor dormitory.

Almost instinctively, she stood up and waved her wand, casting Transfiguration to clean and enhance the room.

"You know him quite well," she commented.

Harry nodded. "Geralt told me about him."

Hermione looked puzzled.

From the way the Baron spoke earlier, it didn't seem like he had met Geralt.

"Ciri... she has Elder Blood. She can travel through space and time," Harry explained simply, also pulling out his wand to help Hermione transform the room. "Most people focus on her ability to cross worlds, but they forget she can also travel through time."

"She's messed up the timeline quite a bit."

"Everything the Baron told us, Geralt lived through in another timeline. He told me the whole story."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "You seem to have a good impression of him."

Harry conjured a chair and sat down. "Geralt told me that, for all his flaws, the Baron isn't that bad."

"Ciri was well taken care of during her time here."

"And as a ruler, he's actually not terrible. At least he isn't unnecessarily cruel."

Hermione's brows knit together. "But he's the Bloody Baron."

"You can't rule Velen without an iron fist," Harry shook his head.

He paused for a moment. "In the timeline Geralt experienced, the Baron ended up killing himself." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"If possible, I'd like to help the man who once took Ciri in."

"Killed himself?" Hermione gasped. "He doesn't seem like—"

Harry's tone was wistful. "Geralt did help him find both his daughter and his wife."

"But his wife was cursed and ended up dying. His daughter refused to return to him and left. That was the day his family truly fell apart."

Hermione was silent for a long time before she finally spoke. "It doesn't sound like he was a good father."

"He wasn't," Harry agreed. "He drank, he was violent... almost the perfect example of a bad father."

Hermione's frown deepened.

"And his wife wasn't a good wife," Harry continued. "War is the norm in this world. The Baron was once a soldier, fighting bravely on the battlefield."

"He did it for his family... but also for himself."

"But his wife betrayed him."

"And that's when the violence began."

Hermione's mouth hung open, the shock evident on her face.

Such things were unfathomable to someone her age, someone who had only known the sheltered life of Hogwarts.

"He's not a good person," Harry admitted. "But, for the sake of Ciri having a safe place to stay, I think it's worth helping him with this small favor."

"Now then, sleep. You haven't rested in a long time."

"Hopefully, when we get to Novigrad, Ciri will still be there."

The incense was specially prepared by Professor Sprout.

It was wonderful for helping one fall asleep.

Hermione's mind was still racing, but within ten minutes, she was sleeping soundly.

Harry did a mental checklist of their progress and lay down as well, resting his mind.

The next morning, at breakfast.

The Baron looked haggard, his fat face slick with grease from a sleepless night. He held a cup of alcohol in his hand. "Witcher, you're really not going to help me?"

"Not yet," Harry replied simply. "Not until I find Ciri."

"By the way, there's one more thing."

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Powerstones?

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