Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

"Why are you asking about him?" Petunia looked uneasy.

Vernon, who had just stepped inside, narrowed his eyes dangerously.

Him?

A man he had never heard of, yet whose mention made his wife react this way.

"He's my professor now," Harry said, pushing his luggage aside as he sank into the sofa. "He seems to know my mum."

Petunia gritted her teeth. "They knew each other before she went to that freak school!"

"Ever since she met him, Lily became completely unhinged!"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Now that's unexpected.

"Can you tell me more?" he asked, settling into his seat.

Petunia took a deep breath and sat at the other end of the sofa. Vernon followed her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Your mother, Lily, was very bright, a natural from the start," she began. "Back when we lived in Cokeworth, Snape was a boy from the nearby slums. I still remember—he lived in the most wretched part of Spinner's End. Filthy. Both him and the alley."

Harry added, "Not much has changed."

Petunia faltered, pausing briefly before continuing.

"She started showing strange signs when she was nine—just like you. She could make wilting flowers bloom again, heal an injured bird with a touch…"

Her eyes briefly flickered with a hint of envy.

"Then she met Snape. They got along well and eventually went off to that school to become wizards."

"But when she turned fifteen, they had a falling out. They stopped speaking entirely—or rather, it was Lily who cut ties with him."

"I even saw him loitering near our house a few times afterward, lurking like a thief."

Harry pieced it together.

The photo in Snape's drawer—his mum was fifteen.

The past... what secrets does it hold?

"Do you know why they fell out?" Harry asked.

"I don't," Petunia replied, but her tone carried a touch of satisfaction. "But wasn't it good that Lily kicked that loathsome boy to the curb?"

"You never asked her about Hogwarts?" Harry probed.

Petunia shook her head. "No."

"But you wanted to be a witch. Why wouldn't you be curious about it?" Harry asked, his surprise evident.

Petunia's expression turned anxious, and she instinctively glanced at Vernon.

"How do you know about that? I never told anyone…"

"Dumbledore told me," Harry said.

Petunia gritted her teeth. "How dare he!"

Harry sighed.

He'd expected Petunia, as Lily's sister, to know more about her, but this revelation only made the picture murkier.

"Did you have a falling out?" Harry asked.

Petunia clearly didn't want to answer.

"Let me guess," Harry began, studying her closely. "You wrote a letter to Dumbledore and said some nasty things when my mum found out?"

Petunia's face paled.

"And Snape got involved too, didn't he?" Harry pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Petunia looked at him with a mix of fear and astonishment.

"Enough!" Vernon suddenly stood, placing himself between them. He bellowed at Harry, "That's enough, boy! Stop using your freaky mind-reading tricks on us!"

"I'm not using magic," Harry said calmly. "We're not allowed to use spells outside of school."

"Looks like Aunt Petunia and my mum didn't get along as well as I thought, huh?"

Vernon, however, latched onto something else entirely. He nodded, his face brightening. "Ah-ha! No magic outside of school—that's a fine rule!"

"I'd advise against getting any funny ideas," Harry said flatly. "Even without magic, I could still handle you."

Vernon hesitated, the memory of last year's incident flashing through his mind. He instinctively touched his waist, then grumbled and returned to the sofa, wrapping an arm around Petunia.

Realizing Petunia wouldn't offer much more, Harry shifted his impression of his mother. She must have had her fair share of emotional missteps—perhaps she was a bit like Hermione in that way.

"Thanks for your help, Aunt Petunia," Harry said warmly. "To repay you, how about I help Dudley lose some of his fat?"

Petunia screamed in alarm. "What do you mean by that? What are you planning to do to my darling boy?"

Vernon tried to calm her, patting her back. "He means that potion, dear. A potion!"

"You two are hilarious," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. "I've learned how to brew a slimming potion. If you're interested, I can make some for him."

Vernon shook his head emphatically. "Not a chance! I'm telling you, there's no way—absolutely no way—we'll drink any of that…"

Before he could finish, Dudley poked his head out from the staircase.

"Dad, I think I need it!"

Vernon and Harry both turned to look at him.

Dudley took a deep breath and repeated firmly, "I really need it!"

Harry stood, dragging his luggage toward the stairs. "Fine, I'll send it as a Christmas present."

"Why not now?" Dudley demanded, sounding almost indignant.

Harry shook his head. "No magic outside school, dear cousin. I just explained that. Seems your brain isn't much better than a troll's."

Dudley pressed his lips together. He no longer dared to boss Harry around and begrudgingly nodded.

When they passed each other on the stairs, Harry noticed that he now stood eye-to-eye with Dudley. Before Hogwarts, Dudley had been taller, but that was no longer the case.

"Perhaps you have something to say to me?" Harry asked, meeting Dudley's gaze.

Dudley hesitated, then reluctantly muttered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear cousin," Harry replied smoothly.

He carried his luggage to his room, spent some time reading, and went to bed.

Holidays were far duller than school. Without magic, much of his learning was limited to books, with no practical application.

Hermione's letters became his primary source of entertainment, but after just three days, they stopped.

Days passed without any new correspondence from Hermione, and even Ron didn't reply to Harry's letter.

Maybe they were just busy—or forgot to write back.

But something felt off. Hedwig was returning far faster than usual, cutting travel time by nearly a third.

Can owls go on strike? Harry wondered.

Or was someone intercepting his letters?

If only I spoke owl, I could just ask Hedwig.

Rolling up another parchment, Harry tied it to Hedwig's leg and whispered for her to fly slowly. Then, he donned his Invisibility Cloak and followed her.

Before she even left Privet Drive, Hedwig was intercepted.

"Pop!"

A small, elf-like creature appeared out of thin air. With a snap of its fingers, Hedwig froze mid-flight and descended obediently.

The creature cautiously untied the letter from her leg, and then, to Harry's utter confusion, began violently slamming its head into the ground.

Was this… some bizarre form of celebration?

Harry whipped off the cloak and grabbed the creature by its head. "So, it's you intercepting my letters?"

The creature turned, horrified. Seeing Harry, it began smashing its head even harder. "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby! Caught by Harry Potter!"

"Your name is Dobby?" Harry said, twisting the creature's arms behind its back and lifting it like a captured animal. "Enough celebrating. Start talking."

"Dobby is punishing himself!" the creature screeched in its shrill voice. "Bad Dobby!"

"Stop!" Harry's raised voice drowned out its cries.

The creature fell silent, whimpering softly.

"Why are you intercepting my mail?" Harry demanded.

"Dobby must protect Harry Potter!" the creature whimpered. "Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"

Harry frowned. "This isn't protection. Why are you doing this?"

"There is a plot! A terrible plot!" Dobby stammered. "Hogwarts will be dangerous this year!"

"What kind of danger? Worse than Voldemort?"

Dobby shivered violently. "No—not him! Not the one who must not be named!"

"Then tell me what it is," Harry coaxed.

Dobby shook his head. "No! Dobby cannot say!"

Harry sighed and made a gesture. He had confirmed with Professor Flitwick that the Witcher Signs wouldn't trigger the Trace.

Axii.

A soft white glow entered Dobby's head.

But before Harry could say a word, the creature shook itself free and wailed, "What are you trying to do to Dobby, Harry Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

It wore off that quickly?

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" Dobby cried.

"Tell me why, or I'll lop your head off," Harry threatened.

Dobby seemed unfazed by the threat. "Harry Potter would

never do that. He is kind, noble, and…"

The creature froze mid-sentence.

"Dobby must leave!" it suddenly exclaimed. "Dobby's master is calling!"

With another sharp pop, Dobby vanished.

Harry stared at his empty hands.

Just like that… it was gone?

What kind of creature was that?

Harry couldn't recall reading about anything like it in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them or any of his other books.

Small, weak in appearance, with barely detectable magic—but capable of such incredible feats.

Wandless, wordless magic… even most Hogwarts professors can't do that.

Cradling a dazed Hedwig in his arms, Harry felt the weight of unease settle over him as he made his way back home.

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Powerstones?

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