Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

Harry hesitated, carefully inspecting the Sorting Hat, especially its lining.

The Sorting Hat squirmed and bellowed, "I'm perfectly clean! I've never been cleaner in my entire thousand-year existence, inside and out!"

"Just put me on already!"

"You're the one who dumped me at the bathroom door, so what are you complaining about now?"

Reluctantly, Harry put the hat on.

"You really are remarkable," the Sorting Hat whispered eagerly into his ear. "Brave, resourceful, self-sacrificing for your friends—ah, what an admirable story! I must find a way to turn this into a song."

"Get to the point," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"You've got no sense of fun! Gryffindor always loved my songs," the Sorting Hat sighed. "Alright, fine, let's talk business.

"I originally planned to tell you about the trial during your third year."

"But you've already proven yourself—brave without recklessness, determined but not overly calculating. True strength is never used against the weak. This is Gryffindor's philosophy."

"And then, of course, there's the fact that you succeeded. A first-year, defeating a troll on your own..."

"Just say it," Harry interrupted again, sounding drained.

The Sorting Hat muttered, "No patience, this generation."

"The first trial of Gryffindor's legacy."

"You must enter the Slytherin common room and retrieve a painting of Salazar Slytherin. The instructions for the second trial are written on the back."

Harry's face turned green.

"Surprised?" the Sorting Hat teased. "It's a brilliant twist, isn't it? Who would think Gryffindor would hide his heir's trial in the house founded by his most bitter rival?"

"This is a problem," Harry said, massaging his temples.

"Indeed," the Sorting Hat said, its tip nodding in agreement. "Gryffindor always said courage isn't rare. But mindless courage is recklessness.

"True bravery comes from those who think before they act."

Harry agreed with that statement.

Smart people often lack courage—not because they're cowards, but because reason makes them weigh risks and avoid unnecessary dangers.

"The question of how to enter the Slytherin common room is a puzzle you'll need to solve with your head. I should warn you, Slytherin is the most exclusive and guarded of all the houses..."

The Sorting Hat continued its rambling, but Harry, expressionless, pulled it off.

Ron was looking at him expectantly. "What's the trial?"

After a pause, he added, "Can you tell me?"

"How rude! I wasn't finished!" the Sorting Hat protested.

Harry prodded it lightly. "You're too chatty. Have you been stuck in Dumbledore's office too long without anyone to talk to?"

The Sorting Hat didn't get the chance to retort before Ron poked it curiously. "So, can I know about the trial?"

"I can only share the details with someone who has the right to undertake it," the Sorting Hat said with a haughty shake. "But if the heir decides to share, I can't stop that. I'm just a hat."

Ron understood and turned to Harry, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"We only know the first trial," Harry admitted, finding no reason to keep it secret. "I need to find a way into the Slytherin common room."

Ron froze, staring at the hat in disbelief.

What kind of trial is this?

"Do you have any ideas?" he asked after a long pause.

Harry shook his head. "For now, my only plan is to take a bath. Care to join me?"

Ron recoiled. "Aren't you going to think about the trial?"

"We have seven years to figure it out," Harry replied, shaking his head. "No rush. Tomorrow, I'll visit Hermione, and we'll discuss it together. Right now, I'm too tired."

"You're telling her?" Ron asked, his tone tinged with jealousy—not romantically, but from a sense of losing his status as Harry's sole confidant.

"Of course. She's clever," Harry said.

Ron muttered under his breath, "I think I'm clever enough to help you..."

Harry sighed. "Wasn't it you who forgot to bring the professors, even after I told you to? You want me to trust you with a trial?"

Ron blushed, stammering, "Oh no, Harry..."

"Are you coming to the bath, or not?" Harry waved his clean clothes at him.

Ron scrambled to dig out fresh clothes. "Wait for me!"

In the fifth-floor bathroom, the two found peace in the quiet, steamy space.

The warm water was soothing. Harry let out a long sigh, sinking deeper into the pool, until he blew bubbles at the surface.

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, he felt like he could pause and reflect.

The day's events left him unsettled. Most of all, the revelation about the ancient protective charm lingered in his mind.

Parents, huh?

Harry submerged briefly, his thoughts swirling, before shaking himself out of it. He emerged to find Ron staring anxiously, convinced Harry had drowned.

After the bath, sleep came almost instantly.

The next morning brought classes as usual.

Friday meant Potions with Snape.

The professor seemed unusually restrained, deducting a mere five points from Harry's tally.

After class, they made their way to the hospital wing to visit Hermione. On the way, Harry stopped outside McGonagall's office.

"Wait here," he told Ron, stepping inside.

When he returned moments later, Ron handed him his bag. "What happened?"

"I had to confirm something about detention," Harry replied lightly.

"You just got out of detention!" Ron exclaimed, loud enough to echo.

Harry shrugged. "This one's only for two weeks."

"For saving Hermione, McGonagall gives you detention?" Ron raged.

"She's protecting me," Harry said.

"What?"

"Snape wanted to put me in detention. Would you rather it be with him?" Harry asked.

Ron deflated. "Fair point... Snape is awful."

Harry didn't argue.

The hospital wing was quiet when they arrived.

Madam Pomfrey greeted them, her hands full of medical supplies. "What's wrong with you two?"

"Nothing! We're here to visit Hermione," Harry clarified.

Pomfrey relaxed. "She's inside."

She led them to Hermione's bedside, drawing back the curtain.

Hermione looked surprised. "Harry, Ron! You came?"

"Sorry about yesterday," Harry said evenly.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I should be the one apologizing. If it weren't for you, that troll's club would've..."

Harry interrupted, "You look like you didn't sleep. Is it the pain?"

She shook her head. "I was thinking about everything. Because of me, Gryffindor lost another ten points..."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "McGonagall added twenty afterward."

"That was for you," Hermione argued. "It has nothing to do with me."

Ron chimed in, "And he got two weeks of detention, too."

Hermione gasped. "Two weeks?!"

"Just now, while passing McGonagall's office," Ron elaborated.

Hermione looked distraught. "I'm so sorry, Harry..."

"There's nothing to apologize for," Harry assured her. "If it were you, would you have done the same for me?"

"Of course!" Hermione replied instantly.

"Then we're even," Harry said.

Hermione stayed silent, guilt still visible in her expression.

"Ron has something to say to you," Harry prompted.

Caught off guard, Ron fumbled with his words, finally blurting, "Sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have said those things."

Hermione shook her head. "You were right."

"No, really..."

"I mean it."

Harry handed her a towel. "Rules are dead words on paper. People are alive."

Hermione stared, her mind reeling.

"The rules are there to remind us to think about our actions, not to stop us from doing what's right," Harry said softly.

Hermione's eyes watered. "Thank you, Harry. I think I understand now."

"Good," Harry said briskly. "Now, back to work. I need your thoughts on something: the trial involves breaking into the Slytherin common room."

Hermione's jaw dropped.

Just moments ago, he was consoling her with warm, heartfelt wisdom.

And now, it felt like he'd shifted straight into strategizing while buttoning his metaphorical trousers.