Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World

"You should really count yourself lucky that the house-elf helped you pull this off," Harry said, shaking his head. "Those creatures are anything but reliable."

Tom responded as though imparting wisdom, "You need to learn to use them."

"Just like a wizard doesn't care much about the look of their wand. Sure, the ideal one suits you best, but if circumstances force you to use a simple wand, isn't that good enough?"

"And looking at the result, isn't this outcome perfect?"

"I escaped Dumbledore's gaze once again, just as I did for every one of my actions back in the day."

"Lockhart was a carefully chosen pawn, based on Ginny's descriptions of him. I thought he would be easy to manipulate—vain, ambitious, incompetent, and obsessed with fame. He ticked all the right boxes."

"In truth, he was easy to control."

But at the mention of Lockhart, even Tom's expression darkened, his tone laced with disdain.

"But he was utterly useless!"

"The moment he got the tiniest benefit, he couldn't wait to flaunt it everywhere. He couldn't keep a single secret, baring himself completely for all of you to see."

"He even let you guess and confirm that I was hiding in his body!"

Tom's mood shifted back to amusement. "It's a shame Dumbledore is so soft. If I were him, I'd have killed Lockhart outright and dissected him."

"But what did he do instead? He couldn't bear to take a single life, not even to stop me. He tried to corner me and force me to show myself."

"Well, here I am."

"But where is Dumbledore?"

Harry dismissed his theatrics with a wave of the sword in his hand. "Stop gloating about your schemes. You've gone through all this trouble to lure me here—so say what you want already."

Tom's gaze was drawn to the sword, a glint of greed lighting his eyes.

"So that's the Sword of Gryffindor," he murmured, his expression hungry.

"You want it, don't you?" Harry asked.

"I have already acquired the legacies of the other three founders," Tom admitted without hesitation. "I've been planning for years how to claim Gryffindor's."

"Cowards hiding in shadows don't get it," Harry retorted bluntly.

Tom's composure didn't falter; it seemed only the mention of the girls' lavatory or Lockhart could rattle him. "That's called caution, Potter. I was facing the greatest white wizard of all time."

"If I were like Gryffindor, I'd have been expelled by my first year."

He paused, gesturing to his head. "You see, Harry, we're alike."

"Both of us have brains."

Then he moved his hand to his chest. "And ambition."

"Dumbledore has nothing to teach you. You've seen it yourself—he bows to the rules laid down by the weak. Look at Grindelwald, rotting away in Nurmengard."

"But isn't Hogwarts just another prison for Dumbledore?"

"For the greater good."

"To achieve it, one must be willing to break every boundary, to do what cowards dare not do, and to think what they dare not think. One must use every possible means to shatter outdated rules."

"This world should be ruled by the strong."

Tom extended a hand, not lowering himself in the slightest, his tone almost earnest. "Why don't we join forces?"

"You and I."

"Harry and Voldemort."

"The Savior and the Dark Lord."

"We could change this world entirely."

Harry refused without hesitation. "Sounds tempting, but I have my standards."

"Like not sneaking into the girls' lavatory at night."

Tom's expression darkened. "Potter, it seems we have nothing left to discuss."

"We never did," Harry replied, smirking. "From the start, all you've been thinking about is how to get rid of me."

"If you were sincere, you wouldn't be gripping that wand so tightly."

Tom didn't bother denying it. With a flourish, he revealed Ginny's wand—a yew wand with a phoenix feather core, just like Harry's.

"You're scared of me, aren't you, dear Tom?" Harry said in a soft, mocking tone, stepping closer, sword in hand. "I can see it—you're afraid of me."

Tom's gaze hardened, his movements cautious. "What a ridiculous idea. You're just a second-year student."

"So what?" Harry shrugged. "That doesn't stop you from being scared of me."

"The basilisk avoided me."

"The diary's spirit tried to avoid me."

"This sickening tendency to hide—it's nothing like the fierce facade you put on."

"Now I understand why you lost."

Tom's eyes turned cold and dangerous.

"You've got some talent, but you only pick on those weaker than you. At school, you bullied the students who couldn't fight back."

"And now, you want to come after a second-year?" Harry taunted.

"Did Lockhart's Duelling Club give you the courage to face me?"

"Was it your command that kept him from engaging so Snape could have the chance instead?"

"You just wanted to test me, didn't you? And now, with your confidence restored, you think you can deal with me?"

Tom raised his wand. "Potter, this is me respecting you."

"I'm giving you a fair duel."

"Let's see if the Savior who defeated the Dark Lord lives up to his name."

"Surely, you haven't forgotten what Lockhart taught you at the Duelling Club?"

Tom's obsession with ceremony and formality seemed unshakable.

Harry raised his wand, matching the stance. "Of course not."

The two bowed.

Together, they counted.

"One..."

"Two..."

But just as "Two" escaped their lips, Harry lunged, sword swinging toward Tom's head.

Tom was faster. His wand flicked, and two stone snakes coiled from the columns, hurtling toward Harry with brutal force.

Dodging mid-roll, Harry escaped the attack and retaliated with his own spell. Though his magic couldn't command two snakes at once, one was manageable.

The stone serpents clashed, writhing and snapping at each other.

Meanwhile, the second snake, under Tom's control, surged forward like a tidal wave. Harry dodged, twisting agilely to avoid its strikes.

"Inferno!"

Tom roared, unleashing a torrent of black fire. It swept across the chamber like a living thing, consuming everything in its path.

"Pathetic," Tom sneered. "You're still using a Mudblood's weapon in a wizard's duel? That's why you'll lose."

"Is talking people to death your strategy?" Harry shot back, darting between attacks as he used Transfiguration to alter the terrain, seeking an opening to close the distance.

But just then—

The chamber trembled as a powerful, familiar surge of magic filled the air.

It was the unmistakable presence of Albus Dumbledore.

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Powerstones?

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