Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

Dumbledore waved his wand.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins were forcibly separated.

"This is the last night of the school year. Let's leave behind some good memories," he said softly, waving his hand again. A surge of magic forced the disgruntled students back into their seats.

The students sat down obediently.

Though now and then, a few Gryffindors and Slytherins still bared their teeth at each other.

"This has been a very long year," Dumbledore said gently. "Many things have happened at Hogwarts."

"For example, the Triwizard Tournament. Despite some… unique circumstances, I'd say it ended with a good result."

He paused slightly before adding, "Speaking of the Triwizard Tournament, I must take a moment to be a proper old man and ramble a bit."

"I assume you've all read The Daily Prophet—that second-rate newspaper."

The students burst into laughter.

"But as those who personally witnessed the entire tournament, you should be able to judge for yourselves just how many lies The Daily Prophet is telling."

"Harry was targeted from the very beginning. Remember those two extra slips of paper that came out of the Goblet of Fire?"

"They had been plotting from the start."

His reminder made the students recall the events of the Halloween Feast.

The signs had been there from the very beginning.

Once the murmurs died down, Dumbledore continued, "And, at Professor McGonagall's strong insistence, I suppose I must finally shoulder some of the responsibilities of a headmaster."

"So, as your headmaster, I have a request."

"This summer, and next school year, I hope you will study hard. Our OWL and NEWT scores have been slightly declining in recent years."

"The number of students achieving 'O' and 'E' grades has increased, but the overall proportion has dropped."

Professor McGonagall turned away in irritation.

"Slightly declining"?!

It had plummeted!

Only Harry's year still showed some promise. The others? She had given up hope.

The students stared at Dumbledore in surprise.

A headmaster urging them to study was normal.

But Dumbledore doing it?

That was almost unbelievable.

His next words, however, immediately betrayed his true nature.

"Of course, before studying hard, tonight—enjoy the feast to the fullest!"

"And let's give another warm welcome to our honored guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang!"

The students cheered.

There was no House Cup ceremony this year, disappointing the Ravenclaws—this had been their year to win first place.

Just three days ago, Gryffindor had been in first place, with Slytherin close behind.

At the start of the year, the professors had repeatedly warned everyone not to fight in front of the visiting schools—especially after Harry was chosen as a champion.

The Gryffindors had tried to make it the best year—winning both the House Cup and the Triwizard Cup.

Their competition with the Slytherins had turned into something the professors approved of—academic rivalry.

House points skyrocketed.

Even George and Fred had been earning positive points this year.

Of course, that only lasted until the last three days.

Then, their true colors emerged.

Both Houses lost seventy or eighty points each, allowing Ravenclaw—previously in third place—to snatch victory.

The feast continued.

The Gryffindors, under the watchful eyes of the professors, carefully lit fireworks to ambush the Slytherins.

The Slytherins, fed up with the harassment, wanted to retaliate but had no fireworks—and certainly couldn't buy any from Gryffindor.

At that moment, the ever-helpful Hufflepuffs appeared, selling fireworks to the Slytherins.

Basic models—six Knuts each!

And the Hufflepuffs had an unlimited supply—since they had bought them from the Weasley twins for five Knuts apiece.

Meanwhile, Fleur dragged Hermione into a discussion about magical beauty charms and enchanted perfumes.

Krum approached.

"Congratulations," he said, holding a glass of fresh carrot juice.

"Thanks. Want some whiskey?" Harry offered, shaking a bottle.

"No," Krum declined immediately, showing his athlete's discipline. "I cannot drink alcohol."

Harry nodded.

"I wanted to ask—do you know where Karkaroff went?" Krum's tone was urgent. "He hasn't been seen since the night of the Triwizard Tournament."

That was far worse than losing the tournament.

They had come to Hogwarts for a competition—

And ended up losing their headmaster.

Who could accept that?

"I don't know," Harry said.

Neither did Snape.

Since that night, Karkaroff had vanished without a trace.

Krum looked doubtful. "Are you sure, Mr. Potter?"

"Of course." Harry nodded. "Why not ask the all-knowing Professor Dumbledore?"

Krum sighed. "I did. I also asked Professor Snape. They both said they didn't know."

Their headmaster had disappeared.

They couldn't return to Durmstrang and simply tell the professors and students: We went to a tournament, and our headmaster got lost.

The Next Day

The Beauxbatons carriage took off.

Fleur Delacour left, along with a few broken hearts.

Krum and the Durmstrang students stood on their ship, staring at the Black Lake shore, completely lost.

Were they supposed to just stay at Hogwarts until Karkaroff returned?

Luckily, Professor Flitwick kindly arranged transportation for them.

Oh—no, he was escorting them home.

The Hogwarts students boarded the train back to London.

The Dursleys joined them.

It was their first time riding a wizard train.

But apart from the floating fireworks and the odd magical creatures darting about, the experience wasn't much different from a normal train ride.

The sweets caught Dudley's attention.

But…

Only for a moment.

Taste-wise, they weren't particularly better than Muggle snacks.

Wizards had food magic, but Muggles had food science.

Only Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans fascinated Dudley.

He had never encountered a candy with this many flavors.

He ate them all the way to London and still hadn't tasted any repeats.

Arrival at King's Cross

Sirius and Lupin traveled back with them.

Lupin planned to rest for a while—although the Weasley twins had been scammed out of their fireworks by Ludo, their reputation had soared.

The summer promised to be very busy, even with George and Fred helping.

The train arrived at King's Cross.

They said their goodbyes.

"So, how are we getting home?" Sirius pulled a small pouch from his pocket, eyes glinting mischievously. "How about motorcycles? I've got two—Dudley can even drive one himself."

Dudley's hand shot up eagerly. "I'm in!"

He loved motorcycles.

But no matter how much he begged, Vernon and Petunia never allowed it. They considered them far too dangerous.

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Vernon said, his expression darkening as he turned to Harry. "We can just take a taxi. I can afford a taxi, you know."

"Sirius?" Harry ignored Vernon and looked at his godfather.

Sirius hesitated. "Why not? We can find a quiet spot and cast a Muggle-Repelling Charm—"

"No, that's not the issue," Harry interrupted.

Sirius frowned, glancing around. "Hey, don't worry, we'll find a discreet place—"

"No, it's not that." Harry shook his head. "My bike is being ridden by the Sorting Hat. We agreed to meet at my aunt's house."

Petunia and Vernon exchanged confused looks.

The Hat?

Was that a person?

Or… an actual hat?

"The Sorting Hat?" Sirius froze, then sighed. "Alright, if it's that thing…"

"Taxi it is, then?"

Vernon sighed in relief.

They left the station and hailed a cab.

Petunia and Dudley got in first. Lupin had just taken a seat when Sirius grabbed the door to climb in.

Harry and Vernon stopped him at the same time.

"What's wrong?" Sirius looked bewildered. "Are you telling me I have to run home? I mean, I could—"

"One cab can only fit three passengers," Vernon said firmly. "Limited space."

Sirius didn't really understand the concept of "limited space."

Wizards had Undetectable Extension Charms.

The Knight Bus, for example, looked like a regular vehicle but could fit every wizard in Britain.

Lupin glanced at Dudley and Petunia, then climbed out. "Sirius, you take this one."

"I want to ride with Harry!" Sirius pouted, trying to shove Lupin back in.

Lupin peeled his hand off. "Stop. You'll be fine with them."

"I also think Mr. Lupin is the better choice," Vernon added.

Lupin looked mature—responsible, even. A rare thing among wizards.

And while Vernon knew Sirius had been falsely accused, years of seeing his wanted posters still left an impression.

Harry whispered, "Sirius is the safer option."

Lupin stiffened slightly.

"Safer than me and Remus combined," Harry added.

Sirius suddenly understood.

He nodded and climbed in, letting Dudley help him with his seatbelt.

The taxi driver shot Vernon a sympathetic look as he accepted his twenty-pound note.

A man burdened with two—or maybe three—idiot children.

Truly, not easy.

Vernon quickly hailed a second cab.

As they got in, he muttered, "That Mr. Lupin seems far more reliable than Mr. Black."

"Remus has… a condition," Harry said simply.

"When he's fine, he's the best uncle ever. But he's very self-conscious about it."

"Like Dumbledore, always fussing over trivial things."

"Really stubborn."

Lupin hesitated. "It's not a disease."

"It is a disease," Harry said, pulling two books from his pocket. "Hermione and I did some research."

Vernon craned his neck to see.

One book's cover had a single word—

"Werewolf."

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Powerstones?

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