Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

"Why did you cast a spell outside school?" asked Peasegood, his voice as tired as his face. "And cause such a big mess too."

He glanced around the alley.

Dozens of overturned garbage cans littered the area, their contents strewn everywhere.

"Gryffindor, huh?" he added, almost rhetorically.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm from Gryffindor. But I didn't cast the spell—it was a house-elf."

"A house-elf?" Peasegood's tone was flat, betraying disbelief. "Don't lie to me. House-elves are docile creatures. They don't pull stunts like this."

Harry drew his wand. "You could use the Prior Incantato spell to verify."

Peasegood waved it off and instead cast a Muggle-Repelling Charm. "No need. That would just complicate things. Before I clean up, you need to tell me—did any Muggles see this?"

"Be honest, kid."

Harry shook his head. "No, none."

"Really?" Peasegood's skepticism lingered.

Harry sighed, nodding again. "Truly, no one."

"Good." Peasegood muttered under his breath, "Please don't lie to me. If a Muggle saw this and I had to erase their memory, it'd be a nightmare. I've been working overtime for three straight weeks—I really don't want to stretch it to a month."

Harry seized the chance. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

Peasegood, already exasperated, waved his wand lazily. "What, you want me to take you home? You can just—"

"Help me send a letter to Professor Flitwick at Hogwarts," Harry interrupted. "Tell him Harry Potter is waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron."

Peasegood paused mid-complaint and stared at Harry, his fatigue giving way to incredulity. "Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded.

Peasegood's eyes widened, his hand instinctively moving to touch his own forehead. "You're really him?"

"I think asking for Flitwick proves my identity well enough," Harry replied, sliding the knife at his waist back into place.

"So… it really wasn't you who cast the spell? It was a house-elf?" Peasegood's tone softened, edging toward belief.

"Please just send the letter," Harry urged.

Peasegood swiftly cleaned the alley with nonverbal cleaning and levitation spells, leaving it spotless in under ten minutes. Harry doubted it had ever been this clean before.

Once the area was tidied, the two headed to the Leaky Cauldron. Using the bar's owl, they sent a letter to Flitwick.

Less than an hour later, the flames in the bar's fireplace turned green, and Flitwick emerged in a hurry.

"Harry?" His sharp eyes found Harry at the bar, sipping whiskey. He quickly approached. "What's wrong? Why did you need someone else to contact me?"

Peasegood, slightly tipsy by now, stumbled over, belching loudly. "My dear Professor Flitwick, long time no see!"

"Yes, it's been… how many years since you graduated?" Flitwick replied absently.

Peasegood belched again. "You're still so short. I thought you might've grown a bit by now!"

Harry winced slightly.

Flitwick gritted his teeth and waved his wand. "Silencio!"

Peasegood's mouth kept moving, but no sound came out.

"Good, now the drunk can stay quiet." Flitwick climbed onto the stool next to Harry. "Now, let's talk. Why did you have someone else send me a letter?"

"I've been targeted by a house-elf," Harry said, lowering his voice.

Flitwick's eyes widened in surprise.

"From the Malfoy family," Harry continued.

Flitwick frowned. "The Malfoys may not be good people, but they wouldn't do something so foolish."

"It's the house-elf acting on its own," Harry clarified.

Flitwick was even more astonished. "Without its master's orders? House-elves rarely act independently."

Harry took another sip. "I'm not sure what's going on, but it intercepted my mail and warned me not to return to Hogwarts next term."

"It also claimed the Malfoys are planning something that could endanger the entire school."

Flitwick's frown deepened into a scowl. "I'll report this to Dumbledore immediately."

"No rush," Harry said, grabbing his arm. "First, Professor, help me capture that house-elf."

"I've had enough of its antics."

"It uses some peculiar magic to vanish instantly—"

"Ah, that's Apparition," Flitwick interrupted. "It's a highly convenient but dangerous spell. Only wizards aged seventeen or older are allowed to learn it."

"House-elves are natural masters of Apparition," he added.

"Is there a way to catch it?" Harry asked, brow furrowing.

"Of course. Every spell has a counter-spell," Flitwick said, nodding. "But I should warn you, standard anti-Apparition charms don't work on them."

"After all, ever since house-elves became servants, wizards have ensured their magic couldn't be countered easily—better service that way."

"If you'd like, I can teach you the spell later."

"Let's do it tonight," Harry said, draining his drink. "But Professor, you might need to hide. Should I lend you my Invisibility Cloak?"

"The one from the Potter family?" Flitwick arched a brow. "No need. My Disillusionment Charm is more than sufficient."

That evening on Privet Drive, Harry released Hedwig.

Ten minutes passed, and she didn't return.

It seemed Dobby hadn't intercepted her this time.

Had it given up?

Perhaps it thought Harry had been expelled after the Ministry's warning?

That wouldn't do.

"Dobby!" Harry called out into the quiet street. "I know you're listening. The Ministry only gave me a warning—they haven't expelled me."

No response.

Harry persisted. "Come out, Dobby! I promise, if you come out, I won't go to Hogwarts."

Still no response.

Feeling increasingly foolish, Harry wondered if he should just send a letter to the Malfoys instead.

Then, with a sharp pop, Dobby appeared before him, eyes wide with hope. "Harry Potter has finally understood? Dobby is only trying to protect Harry Potter—"

It didn't get to finish.

Flitwick leapt from the shadows, wand raised.

"Incarcerous!"

Magic surged, the air thickening as if turned to gel.

Dobby snapped its fingers but couldn't Apparate away. It froze, eyes wide with terror, shrieking, "Harry Potter lied to Dobby!"

Both Harry and Flitwick remained stone-faced.

With another flick of his wand, Flitwick summoned ropes that bound Dobby tightly and sealed its magic.

"I'd love to cut its head off," Harry muttered, exhaling heavily.

Flitwick said nothing.

"But handing it over to Dumbledore is the better option," Harry continued, glaring at Dobby. "I'm sure he'll get plenty of answers out of it."

Whatever crisis threatened Hogwarts, it was likely aimed at him.

Dumbledore would find out, and after that, Harry could deal with the elf however he pleased.

"House-elf contracts are tricky," Flitwick said, scratching his head. "But Dumbledore's an excellent Legilimens. And if that doesn't work, Snape's Veritaserum will."

Pausing, he glanced at Harry. "Don't want to vent your frustrations first?"

Harry shook his head. "I might kill it if I start."

"Very well. I'll take it to Dumbledore now," Flitwick said, dispelling the thickened air. "See you in two weeks, Harry."

With a pop, Flitwick and Dobby vanished.

Back in his room, Hedwig finally returned with a letter from Hermione.

"Harry? Thank goodness you finally wrote back! But why did you send me a blank page? Did I upset you somehow?"

Harry quickly penned a reply, explaining everything about the house-elf.

Hedwig spent the rest of the night flying back and forth, making eight trips in total.

By dawn, she was exhausted, pecking Harry angrily before flapping into Petunia's kitchen to beg for proper food.

The next two weeks passed peacefully, free from Dobby's interference.

On the morning of the third week in July, Flitwick arrived at the Dursleys' doorstep.

"Harry, I'm here to pick you up," he said, stepping past a bewildered Dudley.

Vernon grumbled, "Thank heavens the freak is finally leaving."

As Harry gathered his things, he asked Flitwick, "Professor, did you get anything out of Dobby?"

"Of course," Flitwick said with a nod. "Dumbledore's Legilimency is top-notch."

"Turns out, old Malfoy wants to sneak one of Voldemort's dark artifacts into Hogwarts. It could've caused a major disaster."

"Don't worry. The professors will inspect everything at the station. No dark artifacts will get through, and everyone—Slytherins and Gryffindors alike—will need to behave."

"Professor," Harry said, raising an eyebrow, "I've been meaning to ask—why do you call Voldemort the Dark Lord? Aren't you braver than your height suggests?"

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