《Harry Potter: Returning from Azeroth》 Chapter 1: Concrete… You count as an earth element?” Prophet? Prophet Harry? Please wake up. We need your guidance... It was as if he was surfacing from deep underwater. The voices calling to him seemed muffled, as though they were coming through a layer of swelling bubblesindistinct yet oddly clear enough to pierce his ears. The sound sent a shiver through Harry. He abruptly opened his eyes, but the next second, Harry doubted whether he was truly awake or still dreaming. The surface beneath him wasnt the soft hide of a beast. There was no crackling of firewood burning in the brazier, and the usual aroma of burnt spices that lingered in his home was entirely absent. Instead, the air was filled with a musty stench. There was no sunlight, or rather, the only illumination came from a faint glow seeping through the thin cracks of a nearby wooden door. After a few seconds of adjustment, Harry finally took in his surroundings. It was cramped, dim, and so narrow that he couldnt even stand upright. Stretching out both arms would have him touching the walls on either side. Above his head were layers upon layers of steps, constructed from dark gray cement. Wait steps? Fragments of memorieslong buried, forgotten, dismissed as childhood fantasiesbegan to resurface in his mind. This placecould it be real? Had he returned to what he once considered homehis aunt and uncles house? What was it called again? Earth? Was this real or fake? Harry stared blankly at his handsthin and frail, with bones clearly visible beneath the skin. It looked as though a mere fall could break them. All the muscles he had built up over years of training were gone, vanished without a trace. Harry instinctively pinched his arm, finding it hard to believe that in his current state, hed probably lose a fight against a stray cub. With the utmost care, afraid of snapping a limb by accident, Harry slowly stood up and pushed open the door beside him. White walls. A hallway leading into what looked like a living roomor perhaps a dining area. On the mantelpiece were numerous photographs. Harry examined them closely: a chubby boy riding a bicycle, the same boy on a carousel but not a single photo of himself. Harry rummaged through his memories. Yes, he remembered nowthis was his cousin. And his presence in this house had always been systematically erased, as though he didnt exist. Everything Harry saw in the house stirred long-forgotten memories, bringing them back into sharp focus. It all felt so realso real that it made him question whether everything he had experienced was just a dream. The whispers of the elements, the secrets hidden by spirits, the temptations and howls of demons, the blood spilled on the battlefield, the shouts of his comrades... Could all those vivid memories, the physical pain, and the power he wielded have been nothing more than an incredibly realistic dream? It was hard not to entertain such doubts when his physical body was here, solid and responsive, his thoughts crystal clear. Yet Harry remained equally convinced that everything he experienced in Azeroth was real. Because Harry raised his hand, and in his open palm, a thin, translucent stream of water coiled like a serpent, gliding nimbly between his fingers. Though faint and sluggish, as if dormant, the elements of this world still answered his call. In addition, Harry could still feel the magic within himthough even Jaina couldnt pinpoint its origins. Yet, when he channeled this power into shamanic arts, it worked remarkably well. The elements seemed to appreciate it. And beyond these tangible changes, Harrys keen senses, heightened awareness, and the marks the elements had left on himall remained. The scars of war were still etched into his body, just as they had been in that other world. Nothing was different except his age, which had regressed, and his body, which had returned to that of an eleven-year-old. I dont recall stepping through any unstable portal, Harry muttered to himself. From his experience, portals created by mages rarely ended wellespecially those opened by certain mischievous individuals who thought it amusing to link them to places like the ruined Dalaran crater, giving people an impromptu skydiving lesson. Harry could only say that survival instincts had kicked in during that ordeal, and he had later ensured the offending mage learned their lesson. Considering how often magesmuch like goblinscame up with unpredictable creations, it wasnt entirely surprising that Harry had been mysteriously sent back to this world, with his age reversed as a bonus. Time travel? In Azeroths tangled timelines, Harry had grown accustomed to it. Hed even attended a celebration hosted by the bronze dragons, where composure was key no matter how strange things got.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. For example, in the peculiar world, a realm populated entirely by murloc versions of people he knew, Harry had kept his cool. Harry nodded to himself. But now, the real question was: how could he return? He longed for his small home in Thunder Bluff, built with the help of his father, Cairne Bloodhoof, and his older brother Baine. It was a cozy space tailored to his size, a place he considered his true home. When Harry, once a frail and clueless child, had ended up stranded in Kalimdor, it was Cairne Bloodhoof who had taken him in, guided him, and cared for him. He had taught Harry how to livenot as a human, but as a tauren. Even though Cairne was a tauren and Harry a human, there had been no distinction in the way he was treated. In fact, Harry sometimes thought of himself as a peculiar kind of taurenone whose horns had yet to grow and whose fur was a bit sparse. So where could he find a mage to open a portal for him? Harry fell into deep thought. Crash! Just then, a sudden clatter behind him broke his concentration. Turning around, Harry saw a plump middle-aged man struggling to get up from the floor, his face a mixture of panic and fury. Oh, and anger. Definitely anger. You little brat! I warned you already! The man roared, his face flushed red with rage, his entire body seeming to swell with fury. No magic! No freakish, disgusting magic in this house! After a few false starts, the man finally spat out a description for what he had witnessed. You mean this, Uncle? Harry raised his hand, and the water snake coiled between his fingers moved more energetically in response. He was beginning to remember who this man washis uncle, Vernon. I told you not to do that! Boy!!! To Vernon, the livelier movements of the water snake were a deliberate provocation. He roared, charging at Harry like a tank, one hand reaching directly for Harrys hair. Bang! The sound was sharp and solid, the kind of noise that made one wince just imagining the pain. It was the unmistakable thud of flesh meeting an unyielding surface. Vernons face turned an even deeper shade of red, though this time it wasnt from anger or fear but from the sheer agony coursing through him. For the moment, however, Vernon was too preoccupied to hurl insults at his typically timid nephew. His eyes shrank to tiny points, much like a beetle''s, wide with horror as they fixed on the thing that had stopped his hand mid-swing. A shield? Or had the wall itself just moved? When Vernon had lunged at Harry, hand outstretched to grab his hair, Harry had instinctively rejected the hostile action. Without thinking, hed used one of the most common spells in a shamans repertoirethe Earth Shield. The intent was fine, the spell itself executed perfectly. The issue lay in where the material for the shield had come from. The wall next to where Harry and Vernon were standing now bore a gaping hole. Actually, to be precise, it no longer resembled a wall at all. Chunks of concrete and brick seemed to have taken on a life of their own, surging together to form a protective shield large enough to cover Harry completely. Monster! Vernon screamed reflexively, his voice shrill, matching the screech that had come earlier from the direction of the kitchen. Harry turned his head toward the sound and saw a woman clutching a spatula, her hands pressed to her head as she let out piercing shrieks. It was his aunt, Petunia. The sight of her ruined homeevidence of her nephews unwanted anticsseemed to stun her into a moment of horrified clarity. The thought of her spotless reputation now at the mercy of the neighbors gossip threatened to make her faint on the spot. Harry! What are you doing?! Petunia shrieked. Today is Dudleys birthday! And the neighbors... theyll see us! Well, Harry mused inwardly, at least she remembers her sons birthday amidst all this chaos. Thats some impressive maternal focus. Still, these werent the most pressing matters. No, the real issue was that if Harrys calculations were correct, this house wasnt going to hold together much longer. After all, the Earth Shield had pulled its material directly from the houses load-bearing wall. Not just punctured itobliterated it entirely. Harry glanced around. The walls nearby were already trembling, small cracks spidering outward ominously. The commotion downstairs had clearly roused someone from their slumber. From above came a thunderous stomping, and soon, a pajama-clad boy with a nightcap perched on his head appeared at the top of the stairs. Dad! Youre being so loud! Whats goingoh my god! Harry recognized the boy immediately. The photographs hed seen earlier had been filled with this round-faced individual. This was Dudley, his cousin, whose long-forgotten antics had once left Harry bruised and battered. Dudley, however, seemed far more interested than horrified. His eyes lit up as he surveyed the scene below. This is so cool! he shouted, his voice reverberating through the shaking walls. What kind of game is this?! Its clearly not a game, Harry sighed. In some ways, Dudley was exactly as Harry remembered himbrash, excitable, and utterly oblivious. But for Harry, who had lived through more than thirty years worth of experiences, his cousins past behavior seemed like trivial squabbles between children. A harmless calf, at best. My house!!! Petunias shrill cry cut through Harrys thoughts. The pristine white walls were now riddled with cracks, and the house itself was trembling on its last legs. The cacophony of Petunias screams, Vernons roars, and Dudleys exclamations made Harrys head throb. It reminded him of the noisy meetings held by orcsboisterous, unruly, and loud enough to rattle ones brain. But regardless of the chaos, Harry couldnt just let anyone get hurt. And so, in Little Whinging, Surrey, at Number Four, Privet Drive... A plume of dust rose high into the air as the once-immaculate house, standing for over a decade, crumbled into rubble, reduced to a heap of debris in a cloud of gray smoke. Well, not entirely rubble. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were all sprawled on the ground, groaning as they tried to push themselves upright. Moments before the collapse, a torrent of water had swept them to Harrys side. Now they sat in stunned silence, staring at the nephew they had barely acknowledged in the past. Or more accurately, they were staring at the massive, towering figure standing protectively over thema golem of sorts. It was a hulking giant, cobbled together from the remnants of the house: shattered concrete, steel rebar, and bricks all melded into one colossal body. If this were Azeroth, Harry mused, the creature would surely have an appropriately grand namesomething like "Concrete Earth Elemental" or Brickwork Titan. Whatever it was called, its massive arms and body had shielded them all from the collapse, ensuring no one was harmed. Sorry about that, Uncle Vernon, Harry said with a sigh. He turned to face his still-stunned relatives. I didnt expect the magic here to draw directly from the surrounding earth, rather than tapping into the Elemental Plane. Ill compensate for the damage caused. Vernon didnt respond. He didnt rage, didnt shout, didnt even flinch. He just stood there, frozen in shock, his face blank and uncomprehending. The term stunned silence had never felt more apt. Crack! Pop! Harrys attention was drawn away as a series of sharp, crackling sounds erupted. Beyond the rubble of the house, figures began materializing in the street. Not walking out of portals or gatesno, these people appeared out of thin air, dressed in long robes, their wands clutched tightly in hand. Chapter 2: The Marvelous Magic and the Astonishing Dumbledore
The sudden appearance of people on the street caught Harry''s attention, especially the way they materialized silently and without warning. Most of them seemed shocked as they landed, many pointing directly at him. Harry keenly noticed that their focus was actually on himor rather, it seemed these people already knew of him and were aware of his existence. Yet, Harry had no recollection of them at all. Was it because of his biological parents? Or was there some other reason? Harry felt he might finally uncover the truthsomething connected to the peculiar magical power within him. A house collapsing in a thunderous crash was undoubtedly an attention-grabbing event. By now, the other residents of the street had started poking their heads out, curious to approach Number 4, Privet Drive, to see what had happened. However, under Harry''s watchful gaze, a portion of the people who had appeared out of nowhere on the street began moving. They waved small wooden sticks, each about the length of a forearm, at those approaching to investigate. Almost immediately, it was as if the curious onlookers had forgotten about the commotion altogether, turning back naturallyeven cars stopped passing by the area. Unlike the usual attire of the people in Harry''s memory of this world, these sudden arrivals wore long robes, and some even had pointed hats, reminiscent of the wizards in fairy tales. Harry didnt have much time to observe or reflect. Soon, an elderly man with white hair and a matching beard appeared out of thin air. His arrival noticeably eased the tension among the crowd. Before his appearance, many of these strangers had been glancing at Harry with fear in their eyes, their nerves taut like strings about to snap. A man wearing a bowler hat hurried over to the old man, his face filled with unease. ...Not a Muggle-born incident, Dumbledore, thank goodness it isnt... ...Calm down, Cornelius... Leave this to me... The ever-present wind carried their words to Harrys ears. Noticing the oddity of the breeze, Harry observed that the white-bearded man seemed to notice it too. He turned briefly toward the air before walking toward Harry. May we have a chat, child? the bearded man said with a warm smile. Dont be afraid, we mean no harmin fact, its wonderful to see youre unharmed. The man carefully examined Harry from head to toe, his gaze lingering on the concrete giant that had shielded Harry and his relatives from the collapse. His eyes sparkled with amazement. Of course, sir, Harry replied softly. At his words, the concrete elemental began to curl up, and within seconds, it crumbled into an unremarkable pile of rubble, indistinguishable from ordinary debris. It looked as if it had always been just that. The faintly settled dust rose into the air again, but this time, the old man waved his wooden stick, and the dust vanished completely, as though it had never existed. So this was the magic of this world? Quite discreet... It should prove useful. Harrys eyes flickered with thought. It seemed the world he was born into wasnt as mundane as hed remembered. The power of magic had hidden itself for reasons unknown. Amazing magic, the old man marveled. Please forgive my curiosityhow did you do it? I dont know, sir, Harry lied without a flicker of emotion. I didnt expect it to happen. Well, it wasnt entirely a lie. After all, Harry truly hadnt anticipated that casting shamanic magic in this world would draw directly from the surrounding environment instead of from the elemental realms of wind, fire, earth, and water. This peculiarity had caused the Dursleys house to be destroyed. To be honest, Harry felt a bit guilty about it. Fascinating magic... Truly fascinating, the old man said with a kindly smile. At the very least, Ive never seen anything quite like itcould I trouble you to demonstrate it again? As he spoke, he playfully winked. It was clear this man was skilled at dealing with children. An average eleven-year-old might have been flattered by such praise, forgetting their fear and hesitation, and eager to show off. Unfortunately, Harry was no ordinary child. Im afraid I cant, sir, Harry said, lowering his head to look at his hands. Theyre not responding anymore. This was the truth. The elemental energy in this world was even less active than Harry had imagined. His earlier act of conjuring the earth elemental had apparently drained the areas energy further, rendering it inert for the time being.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. The elements hadnt told Harry why this dormancy occurred, but he planned to investigate after regaining more of his strength. For now, he was too weak to do anything recklessly. I see, the old man said, sighing in genuine disappointment. He seemed to fully believe Harrys explanation. What a pitybut life is long, and its always a joy to witness something new. If you ever Monster!! It seemed that, after some time to recover, Vernon had finally regained his senses. He let out a short, piercing scream. Gone! My house is gone! The house turned into a monster! The monster protected me from being crushed by the houseall of it is monstrous!! Overwhelmed, Vernons words tumbled out in a jumbled mess before abruptly stoppingnot because he had calmed down, but because the old man waved his wooden stick again. In fact, it wasnt just Vernon. Petunia and Dudley also collapsed into unconsciousness in an instant. Without a word, Harry quickly turned to check their breathing. After confirming they were merely asleep, he faced the old man once more. Dont worry, child, the old man said kindly, his smile radiating warmth. Harrys actions seemed to please him. They just need some rest. When they wake up, all the bad things will be gone. What... do you mean? Harry asked, glancing around with a sigh. I doubt my uncle will forgive me... And Im afraid itll take some time before he can receive my compensation. Just looking at the ruins was enough for Harry to know his aunt and uncle would be furious, especially Petunia. The mere thought of their neighbors gossiping behind their backs would likely make her faint, to say nothing of the financial loss. Oh, oh, its not as serious as all that, the old man with the white beard chuckled heartily at Harrys words. Youre family, after all, connected by blood. Theres no such thing as an eternal grudge between relativeslike I said, things havent reached the point of no return. Youve already shown me a fascinating bit of magic, havent you? The white-bearded old man blinked playfully, like a child. Now its my turn. With that, he waved his peculiar, jointed little wand once againa weapon Harry now recognized as the trademark of this worlds mages, all of them with a similar design. A little wand. Yet, for now, the nature of the weapon wasnt the main point. What mattered was what happened next: under Harrys gaze, the surrounding rubble and ruins began to move againnot driven by elemental power but as though they had come to life. No, more preciselyit felt as though time itself was reversing. Collapsed fragments of walls reassembled themselves into their original positions, shattered concrete and bricks molded by elemental forces reverted to their prior forms. The walls turned pristine white again, even restoring the childish drawings Dudley had once scrawled on them. Stains and marks of time reappeared exactly as they had been. The furniture, the tables and chairs, the broken bowls and plates, the ruined television and applianceseverything Harry could see seemed to rewind from its damaged state back to how it had been before. Finally, what stood before Harry was a complete, undamaged house, just as he had seen it when he stepped out of the cupboard under the stairs that very morning. The street outside was empty of passersby. The fireplace crackled warmly, its flames snapping and popping. Everything seemed utterly normal, as though nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Clap! Clap! Clap! Harry couldnt help but applaud. Honestly, even with his experiences in another world, the magic this old man displayed was so astonishing, it was like... the magic of all magic! Back in Stormwind, if the mages had been capable of such feats, the city wouldnt have needed rebuilding, and there wouldnt have been all those issues with unpaid stonemasons leading to the Brotherhoods rebellion. Amazing! Harry exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically. Truly amazing. The old man, who was far livelier than his age suggested, placed one hand on his stomach and spread the other outward, bowing to his sides and forward as though taking a curtain call at the end of a performance. Thank you, thank you. His poor old back mustve been suffering for it. Well then, Harry, the old man chuckled as he put away his wand, gesturing toward the sofa. Forgive this old fellow for meddlingjust now mightve been a bit beyond my usual stretching exercises. If you dont mind, why dont we sit down and have a chat? Harry noticed the old man seemed oddly familiareither in personality or because he knew one of Harrys relatives very well. As Harry watched, the fridge door in the kitchen swung open on its own, and out floated a few desserts Dudley hadnt liked and left behind. The kettle filled itself with water and hopped onto the stove, boiling within seconds. Teacups danced their way to the table hand in hand, already holding tea leaves. When the hot water poured in, the fragrant aroma of milk tea wafted into Harrys nose. Incredible, Harry said sincerely once again. This display of magic was even more refined than anything the Kirin Tor could manage in Dalaran. Have a seat, Harry, the old man said warmly. Oh, dont worry about your relatives. When they wake up, itll be as if nothing ever happenedall the unpleasant memories erased. Just like a bad dream. ...You tampered with their memories? Harry frowned. Memory was always a sensitive topic. Harry wouldnt want anyone prying into his cherished recollections, nor would he want anyone meddling with them. Do you think theyd want to remember any of this? the old man countered. Recalling Vernons panicked meltdown, Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding, deciding not to pursue the matter further. Although its a bit late for this now, I think basic introductions are still in orderdont you, Harry? The old man smiled kindly. Allow me to introduce myself: Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Leaning forward slightly, Dumbledore extended his hand. ...Harry Potter, as you already know. Though taken aback by the old mans perceptiveness and the respect he offered despite his age, Harry responded with proper etiquette, shaking the extended hand. A magic school? Was it like Dalaran at its inception? A place for teaching magic? Or was it more akin to the Kirin Tor? Indeed, a magic school, Dumbledore said, leaning back into his seat with a playful wink. Although it sounds a bit boastful, I must say that Hogwarts is undoubtedly the finest magic school in all of Europe. The finest in Europe... which meant there were other schools. So, unlike Dalaran, it wasnt tied to political alliances? Harry pondered this silently but betrayed no reaction outwardly. Oh, right! Dumbledore exclaimed, as if suddenly recalling something. He began rummaging through his robes. To be honest, Harry had been holding back a comment for a whileDumbledores attire, a purple robe adorned with silver moons and stars, was certainly... striking. Was this the standard aesthetic for wizards in this world? But no, that couldnt be. The people hed seen earlier on the street hadnt been dressed like this. Aha! Found it! As Harry mulled over this, Dumbledore finally produced what hed been searching for. From a hidden pocket inside his robe, he pulled out a letter sealed with red wax and handed it to Harry. Good thing I had one with me, or it wouldve been a shame for a young wizard to miss out. ...Wizard? Harry raised an eyebrow as he took the letter. Chapter 3: Harry Potter—The Next Dumbledore? "Not a mage?" "Yes, a wizard," Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just like the wizards and witches in Muggle fairy tales. I assume youve heard some of those stories? Oh, and by the way, Muggle is our term for people who cant use magic." "Maybe," Harry muttered noncommittally, glancing down at the envelope in his hands. [To Mr. Harry Potter, The Living Room by the Coffee Table, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.] The letter pinpointed his exact location at this moment, which left Harry somewhat skeptical about the capabilities of this worlds so-called wizards. After all, just a few minutes ago, 4 Privet Drive had no such thing as a coffee table in its living room. He opened the letter. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, International Confederation of Wizards) Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress "''Await my owl?''" Harry looked up, puzzled. "Thats how wizards send messages?" "Oh, yes. Owls are remarkably intelligent creatures and have served as messengers for wizards for centuries," Dumbledore replied with a serene smile. "They rarely make mistakes. Perhaps youll want one as a pet someday. For now, though, you can just tell me your answer directly." "After all, I am the headmaster, am I not? Ha ha ha ha!" Dumbledore laughed heartily at his own joke, clearly amused. "I thought you might use something more... magical for communication," Harry mused, recalling the messengers hed seen back in Dalaran. Those ranged from spectral servants to arcane constructsor even beings that flew on their own wings. Compared to those, an owl delivering letters seemed far less magical and impressive. "Such methods would indeed be more magical but far too conspicuous," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "As you might have noticed, the wizarding world is hidden. Breaking this secrecy would result in severe consequences under our laws." "So, about today" Harry began, recalling the commotion hed caused earlier. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about," Dumbledore reassured him with a smile. "Youre just an untrained wizard, Harry. No one will punish a young wizard for instinctive magic. Youre safe." "Good to know," Harry nodded. "Im eager to attend the school, but I do have a couple of questions first." "Go ahead," Dumbledore encouraged, reaching for his teacup. "Though I might need a little more sugar for this." "First, your school probably isnt free, is it? My aunt and uncle certainly wouldnt want to spend money on a magic school, as you can see." Harry gestured toward the unconscious Dursleys sprawled on the floor. "And theyre not exactly fond of magic either."Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Thinking back on Dudleys earlier behavior, Harry reconsidered. Dudley wasnt opposed to magic so much as he wasnt the one in control this time. "Dont worry about that," Dumbledore said, waving off Harrys concern. "Hogwarts provides scholarships for Muggle-born wizards and those from disadvantaged families. But in your case, this wont be necessary." Straightening up, Dumbledore locked eyes with Harry. "You have an inheritanceleft by your parents. Its more than enough to cover all your expenses at Hogwarts and beyond." "My parents inheritance?" Harrys voice wavered, the unfamiliar yet familiar words striking a chord. "Yes," Dumbledore affirmed, his tone gentle. "Your mother, Lily, and your aunt, Petunia, were sisters. Due to reasons I cant fully explain right now, your bond of blood is why youve lived here all these years." "Forgive my secrecy, Harry," he added, seeing Harrys urge to ask further. "Some truths are not suited for a child to bear. Your parents Gringotts vault key is in my keeping, and when the time comes, Ill ensure someone guides you into the magical world." "For now," Dumbledore said with a mischievous grin, "lets keep a few mysteries intact, shall we? Discovery is part of the fun." "Alright," Harry relented, aware that arguing about his maturity wasnt worth it. His eleven-year-old body didnt exactly help his case. "One more questiondoes Hogwarts accept non-human students?" Dumbledore froze mid-sip. "Pardon?" he asked cautiously, wondering if hed misheard. "Like werewolves, giants, vampiresor maybe mushroom people? Fungus folk?" Harry tilted his head. "Would they be discriminated against or outright banned?" "...Im not sure I understand," Dumbledore admitted, clearly puzzled. "Hogwarts wouldnt allow dark creatures like werewolves or vampires to enroll, of course." "As for mushroom people if they exist, we havent found them yet." "Ah, I see," Harry said, visibly disappointed. "In that case, I might not be able to attend after all." Dumbledore: "?" Even with over a century of life experience, Dumbledore found himself baffled. "Im fairly certain your parents were human, Harry," he said slowly, setting his teacup down. "Human wizards, to be precise." "No, Im a tauren," Harry declared firmly. "My horns havent grown in yet, and Im still a bit short on fur, but Im definitely tauren." Dumbledore: "..." After a long pause, Dumbledore sighed, the weight of his teaching years settling on him. "Well then, rest assured, taurens are welcome at Hogwarts." "Thats a relief," Harry said, smiling for the first time. Dumbledore didnt linger much longer. After handing over the admission letter and promising someone would guide Harry into the wizarding world, he left 4 Privet Drive. There were, as he explained, many matters to address after the days events. Harry understood. In a society bound by secrecy laws, the uproar hed caused was likely a big deal. But Dumbledores words left much unansweredparticularly why those wizards at the start seemed to recognize him. Their astonishment and curiosity had been palpable, as if he were some extraordinary figure. Yet Harry knew for certain he hadnt made a name for himself in this world. Hed have to uncover the truth in due time. Adding a log to the fireplace, Harry settled back by the coffee table, sipping tea. His nerves, taut from the days encounters, finally began to ease. Truthfully, he hadnt been around this many humans in yearsnot in private, at least. It was overwhelming. Especially in his weakened state. Harry Potter, shaman and seer of the Horde, was not human. He was taurena truth universally acknowledged within the Horde. "Youre awake, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked, breaking the crackling silence. He glanced at the sofa, where his relatives lay. "How are you feeling?" Petunia sat up slowly, clutching her head. Her face bore traces of a nightmarevisions of neighbors jeering, their house collapsing. As her gaze swept the room, reality reassured her. Everything seemed normal. Dreams were just dreamsuntil her eyes landed on the envelope by Harrys side, its crest unmistakable. "No," she groaned, covering her eyes as though to block out the sight of the Hogwarts seala shield emblazoned with an ''H,'' flanked by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake. "Can we talk, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked softly. "About my mother." Petunia stared blankly at the letter, then at Harry. "...You too... I knew it... I knew it..." Muttering under her breath, she sighed deeply after a long pause. "Alright." ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 4: Snape Berates Dumbledore For Harry, life had temporarily settled into a calm rhythm. He no longer had to endure the irritations caused by too many humans around him or worry about their intentionsafter all, to his tribe, "humans" often meant insults, curses, or even drawn swords, usually culminating in bloodshed and death. That was just how Azeroth wasthe war between the Horde and the Alliance never ceased. Since that day, no one had come to disrupt his life. In fact, after Aunt Petunia candidly confessed certain things about his mother, even his aunt and uncle''s attitude toward him inexplicably improved over the following days. Harry didnt even have to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs anymore. Harry couldn''t help but wonder what kind of memory modifications Dumbledore had performed on them. Aside from altering the memory of the house collapsing into a mere nightmare, had he done something else? Ultimately, Harry decided it wasnt worth overthinking. At least, for now, things were finewerent they? Harrys days gradually began to improve. However, outside of Harrys quiet little bubble, the magical world was anything but calm. A flood of Howlers was delivered to the Minister of Magics office by owls, and even the headmasters office at Hogwarts couldnt escape the bombardment. Dumbledore was under heavy fire for his supposed neglect of Harry Potter. Take this very moment, for instance. Only this time, the person berating Dumbledore wasnt a Howler but a dark-robed man with a sallow, brooding countenance. "You promised me, Dumbledore!!" A newspaper was slammed onto the desk of the headmasters office, its pages spread wide in righteous indignation. Spittle flew from the dark-robed mans lips, some landing in Dumbledores silver beard. "You promised to take care of him!! And this is what happens?!" Oh, Severus, calm down I seem to be telling people that a lot lately. Would you like some treacle pudding? Muggle desserts do have their charm. Completely unfazed by the mans fury, Dumbledore cheerfully pushed a plate of pudding toward him. Only for it to be unceremoniously swept to the floor the next second. His anger burned uncontrollably in his chest. Living with cruel relatives, dressed like a house-elf, skin and bonesand he nearly turned into an Obscurial because of their abuse! Snape, the dark-robed man whom Dumbledore had addressed as Severus, jabbed the newspaper toward Dumbledores face, his rage barely contained. This is how you keep your promises?! This is your care?! Oh, my pudding Dumbledore glanced mournfully at the dessert on the floor before sighing. I must admit theres some truth in that report, Severus. But we both know what kind of person Rita Skeeter is. I dont mean to speak ill of her, but her credibility is questionable. Still, he added, his tone shifting as if lost in thought, how exactly did she get her hands on this story? Fascinating. On the newspaper before them, beneath the bold heading of The Daily Prophet, the most eye-catching element was a massive photo on the front page. In the image, a boy stood amidst a pile of rubble, with a towering stone giant formed from the remains of the collapsed house. The boyhis expression calm, showing neither fear nor panicstood resolute among the destruction. And below the photo, in bold, striking letters, was the headline:This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Harry PotterThe Next Dumbledore? ...Based on this reporter''s investigation, the boy who survived the Dark Lords curse and led to his downfall has not been living well these past years. Not only is he physically frail compared to other boys his age, but his attireplease pardon my bluntnessmakes him look like a pitiful house-elf ...Forced to rise early and stand on a stool to cook breakfast for his Muggle relatives, burdened with all the household chores, and frequently subjected to scolding and punishment ...Years of abuse by his Muggle relatives left the Boy Who Lived in an oppressive environment. It was only in the days leading up to his eleventh birthday that everything finally eruptedof course, according to interviews with Ministry officials, we can confirm that our young boy did not turn into an Obscurial. A magical outburst, Ministry officials explained, similar to what every young wizard experiences in times of crisis. As the child who defeated Him-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Harry Potters magical outburst is naturally far greater than that of his peers. This is perfectly reasonable. That stone giant he conjured is impressivesomething many adult wizards would struggle to achieve. ...As we enjoy the peace and stability of our world, brought about by the sacrifices of this boys parents, we must ask ourselves: Was it worth it? For the hero who gave us this life, what kind of life has he endured in return? ...In these eleven years, has the Ministry fulfilled its responsibility to Harry Potter after the death of his parents? And what about Dumbledorehas he fulfilled his duty to the Boy Who Lived? These questions demand reflection... The article appeared to adopt a neutral stance, presenting itself as an objective analysis, but its undertones clearly sought to absolve the Ministry of any blame, subtly steering public perception. Hmm Ritas writing is as engaging as ever, Dumbledore remarked after a brief pause. Her story certainly captures attention. Oh, and this photograph is excellentespecially that moment she caught of me and young Harry gazing at each other amidst the ruins. I do wonder how she managed it. I dont care about that womans self-made image, Dumbledore! Snape snarled. Her so-called bravery and truth-telling are irrelevant! What I care about are the facts she reportedHarry Potter was nearly driven into becoming an Obscurial by his Muggle relatives abuse! If this is your idea of taking care of the boy, then you shouldve handed him over to me eleven years ago! Let me take him to Spinners End! Spinners End was Snapes homea clear indication he would have preferred to raise Harry himself. It was evident that Snapes anger had reached its peak. An Obscurial, or more specifically the phenomenon of an Obscurus, is a unique form of dark magic that manifests in young witches and wizards. When a child suffers physical or emotional abuse and consciously represses their magical abilities out of fear or trauma, an Obscurus forms within them, making the child an Obscurial. An Obscurial lives in torment, and when their emotions spiral out of control, they transform into an Obscurusa destructive force capable of devastating everything in its path. Obscurials rarely survive past the age of ten, which explained the Ministrys panic when an unprecedented magical surge erupted from Number Four, Privet Drive. The Ministry could not accept a future where Harry Potter became an Obscurial. The boy was more than a symbol; he was the hero who had ended Voldemorts reign of terror, restoring peace to the wizarding world. Harry himself remained unaware of the fame that surrounded him. Yet, in this world, his name carried immense weight. This very reputation put the Ministryand the Ministerunder enormous pressure. Should Harry indeed become an Obscurial, the fallout would go far beyond a mere resignation; certain individuals might even face Azkaban. It was no surprise, then, that Dumbledore found himself under fire from a deluge of Howlers. After all he wasnt just a headmaster. Calm yourself, Severus, Dumbledore repeated, his voice steady. I have been watching over young Harry. While his life has been challenging, it has not reached a point where he might turn into an Obscurial. Harry cannot grow up in the wizarding world. The fame and adoration would ruin him. This was the wisdom of an old man. And you and I both know, Severus, Dumbledore added softly, locking eyes with Snape, he is not truly gone. Like a dousing of cold water, Snapes fiery anger abruptly froze. Involuntarily, he clutched his left arm. The mark was still there. Faded, but never gone. Rita claims in her article that young Harry vanquished Voldemort, Dumbledore continued. But you and I both know that it was Lilys sacrifice Dont you dare speak her name! Snape interrupted harshly, teeth clenched. It was unclear which name Snape couldnt bear to hear, but one thing was certainhe had calmed down. Perhaps, for him, that earlier outburst was the anomaly. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 5: Hagrid
Well then, Dumbledore nodded slightly, Its precisely because of that magic that young Harry must live with his blood relativesyou know, many who escaped judgment might seek vengeance, and no one knows what theyre capable of doing. Besides, we have no right to criticize the Dursleys, do we? I hope you wont interfere in private... especially concerning Petunia, Dumbledore fixed his gaze on Snapes face. We placed a child in their care without asking for permission, without warning them of the dangers it might bringand, Severus, perhaps you dont know since youve never raised a child, but caring for one from infancy to adulthood is quite a troublesome affair. Enough! Snape snapped with a dark expression. As far as I know, neither have you. Oh, certainly not, Dumbledore shrugged. But Ive lived many more years than you, and Ive seen my share. Will you promise me? Snape took a deep breath. Fine. I can only say that word was forced out between gritted teeth. So, what did you see this time? Snape snorted as if trying to change the subject. That Potter... just like his fatherarrogant, lawless, flaunting his powers as he pleases. Oh? That wasnt how you sounded a moment ago, Severus, Dumbledore chuckled. You were rather concerned about young Harrys living conditions, even suggestingah, alright, I wont say itcould you just add a little more sugar to my evening potion? Dumbledores words faltered under Snapes icy glare, colder than a winter storm. One should never anger a Potions Master... especially when said master controls your daily sugar intake. Actually, Harry is in far better condition than I imaginedmentally, I mean, Dumbledore recalled, ignoring Snapes muttered Im not concerned about him. To be honest, when Cornelius relayed that Harry Potter had become an Obscurial, I was truly startled. Ah, always seeking attention like his father, Snape sneered. So, how did he cast that magic? It didnt seem like Transfiguration. Even that Skeeter woman was right about one thingmost adult wizards cant manage something like that. I dont know, Severus, Dumbledore admitted candidly. It was magic Ive never seen before, certainly not Transfiguration. It was strange, wonderfully strangeits hard to imagine a young wizard unleashing such power under pressure. You expect me to believe that? Snape scoffed impatiently. Stop pretending, Dumbledore. How could there possibly be magic unknown to you? Oh, Severus, you give me far too much credit. Im just an old wizard whos lived long enough, Dumbledore waved dismissively before suddenly laughing. At least young Harrys tales of mushroom men and fungi folk are things Ive never imaginedwhat a curious world, wouldnt you agree? You actually believe that nonsense? Snape mocked. If hes not hallucinating from poison, hes just lost in Muggle storybooks.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Why not believe it? Dumbledore countered. As I said, Harry is in better shape than I expected. There was no fear or panic even after the incident. His calm wasnt an act; it came from deep within, Dumbledore reflected earnestly. Hes even thinking about compensating his aunt and uncle for the trouble causeda consideration rare for a child. Cool-headed, logical, consistent in his reasoning, and most importantly, possessing extraordinary talentremarkable, truly remarkable talent, Dumbledore emphasized. At first, I treated Harry like a typical child, but his behavior quickly made me abandon that notion, Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. It felt more like conversing with a mature soulIm attuned to such subtle changes. Anyone listening would think you were talking about the Dark Lord, Snape remarked after a pause. Of course not. Harry still cares deeply for his family, concerned not only for their physical safety but their emotional well-being, Dumbledore chuckled. This time, Snape was rendered speechless, frozen in place. Because, to his astonishment, he realized Dumbledore had genuinely compared Harry Potter to that man and concluded Harry was better. By the way, Severus, Dumbledore continued casually, ignoring Snapes daze, Have you ever seen a minotaur? Snape: "?" For some reason, those three words exuded an inexplicable malice, sending a chill down Snapes spine. Is that another of Potters delusions? Snape gritted his teeth after searching his memory. If you havent lost your mind, I assure you, such magical creatures dont existdont indulge his madness, or are you finally seeking fellow lunatics? Yes, Dumbledore mused, his gaze flickering. Given Harrys rational demeanor, it doesnt add up... Why is that? Do you need a mental clarity potion, Dumbledore? Snape taunted. No matter your high regard, hes just an eleven-year-old raised by Muggles. Fantasizing is hardly surprising for a child. Perhaps, Dumbledore murmured, shaking his head. Interested in guiding him into the magical world, Severus? Without a word, Snape whirled, black robes billowing, leaving only one statement behind: I have no interest in escorting a little lunatic... Dont bother me with this nonsense, Dumbledore. As the office door slammed shut, Dumbledore was left alone. With a flick of his wand, he vanished the fallen sugar pudding and pulled out another bag of sweets, cheerfully popping one into his mouth. Ah, such unyielding children, Dumbledore muttered, gazing toward the door. Dont you think so, Fawkes? A soft trill from the phoenix answered him, though Fawkes managed to roll his eyes before burying his head under a wing. Some things needed no words. **** When Harry finished his morning run and was wiping away sweat while hydrating, a knock on the door caught his attention. "Go answer the door, boy! And if it''s a salesman, tell them we don''t need anything and to stop bothering us!" came Uncle Vernon''s shout from the living room. "Got it," Harry replied, walking toward the door. Upon opening it, he instinctively took a quick step back, his right hand reaching toward his side as if to grab a hammer, only to find nothing therehis other hand reflexively moved behind him to grab for a shield but similarly came up empty. Right. His weapons hadnt returned with him. ...Who are you? Harry asked warily, staring at the towering figure before him. He resisted the urge to slam the door shut and pretend the person outside didnt exist. Judging by the size of this visitor, breaking down the door would only take a single punch. Harry''s caution was warrantedthe figure standing at the door was definitely not human. No human could have such massive bone structure or be this broad. Standing nearly four meters tall, the figure looked even larger than an ogre from Harry''s memories. The being''s height alone placed him closer to the category of giants or a giant subspecies, making Harry, who barely came up to the figure''s knees, seem minuscule in comparison. In Harrys experience, ogres and giants were rarely associated with intelligence or kindness; they were more often known for their brutality and savagery. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 6: Hagrid and the Birthday
Oh! Hello! Hello! Im sent by Dumbledoreuh, a staff member of Hogwarts and one of Dumbledores most trusted people, the giant stammered as he spoke. However, he seemed much smarter than Harrys first impression of him. You must be Harry, right? The last time I saw you, you were just a little thing. Indeed, not only was he smarter than Harry expected, but the giant also appeared to have more emotional depth. Barely two sentences in, he already seemed moved to tears. My goodness... you really do look like your father, the giant choked up as he continued, but your eyes are more like your mothers... Time flies, and now look at you, Harry, all grown up. Uh, thank you? Harry replied, guessing the giant was likely a friend of his parents. After determining that this visitor posed no immediate threat, Harry relaxed slightly. Are you also a professor at Hogwarts? Professor? Oh no, no, Im not cut out for that, the giant said hastily. Im the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts... Oh dear, I almost forgot to introduce myself. Names Rubeus Hagrid. Forcing a smile, Rubeus Hagrids face was nearly obscured by his tangled hair and thick, wild beard. Still, his beetle-black eyes radiated friendliness. Harry Potter, you already know me, Harry nodded politely. He recalled Dumbledore mentioning someone would come to deliver his parents inheritance and introduce him to the wizarding world. What Harry hadnt expected was for the lively old headmaster to send a giant for the task. It certainly made an impression. Boy? Why arent you coming inside? Vernons voice floated from the living room, irritated by the prolonged silence at the door. Hurry up! Breakfast is ready. Dont keep us waiting! Coming, Uncle, Harry called back. Its a professor from Hogwarts. Oh, Im no professor, Hagrid muttered, though Harry was already focused on the living room. Shortly after Harrys reply, there was a clatter, as if someone had knocked something over. In seconds, Dudley came thundering to the doorway. Wowhes huge! Dudley gawked, eyes wide as he stared up at the towering Hagrid. Vernon was right behind him. To be honest, Harry could tell that his uncles first instinct upon seeing Hagrid was to grab his shotgun. Thankfully, Vernon restrained himself, muttering quickly under his breath instead. The peaceful Dursley breakfast was officially ruined. It took all of Hagrids considerable effort to squeeze through the doorway without damaging the frame. Once inside, he sat on the couch under Aunt Petunias pained gaze, causing the furniture to groan in protest and sink noticeably.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Aunt Petunia, following protocol, served a pot of tea for their guest. But that was the extent of their hospitality. In no time, the Dursleys fled upstairs as if escaping for their lives, leaving Harry alone in the living room. Dudley, however, couldnt suppress his curiosity and peeked from around the corner of the staircase. After all, giants were creatures Dudley had only ever seen in video gamesusually as enemies to be defeated. Seeing one in real life was a first. Sorry about my aunt and uncle. Theyre a bit scared of magic, Harry said with a resigned tone. By the way, didnt Dumbledore mention that Hogwarts doesnt admit creatures like werewolves or vampires? Or are giants special exceptions, like minotaurs? Harry thought it reasonable to treat different species differently in different worlds. Giants?! Even with most of his face obscured by hair and beard, Hagrids embarrassment was evident as his face turned red. Im no giant! Sure, Im a bit taller than average, but Im still human! Otherwise, Id never have been admitted to Hogwartsreal giants are way taller than me. Oh, I see. My apologies for the misunderstanding, Harry said, sensing there was more to the story but deciding not to press further. It seemed a sensitive topic, and kind-hearted Tauren never embarrassed others unnecessarily. No harm doneits just a misunderstanding, Hagrid sighed in relief. But wait, whats this about minotaurs? As you can see, Im a Tauren, Harry said calmly, never one to shy away from this truth. Im pleased Hogwarts accepts non-human students like me. ...Huh? Hagrid looked even more bewildered, his mind nearing overload. Non-human students? He scrutinized Harry carefully, recalling the infant he had carried eleven years ago... Right, Harry, Hagrid shook off the confusion and pulled a wrapped box from his pocket. Almost forgotHappy Birthday! I made this cake myself; hope its not too squashed. Birthday? Harry was momentarily stunned. To be honest, he had long since designated the day he appeared in Azeroth as his birthday and had forgotten the one from this world. No wonder Hogwarts had taken a few extra days to send someoneHarry suddenly understood. Of course, your birthday, Hagrid beamed, pushing the cake forward. Go ahead, open it up! I hope you like it. It was a sticky chocolate cake with green icing that read: Happy Birthday Harry. Harry dipped a finger into the icing and tasted ittoo sweet for his liking. But still Thank you, Hagrid, Harry said sincerely. I like it very much. As the saying goes, Tauren always reciprocate kindness with equal kindness. Oh, thats wonderful! Hagrid wiped away tears that had somehow appeared and gazed fondly into the distance. Cake!! Dudleys shout shattered the moment as he barreled down the stairs, grabbing a chunk of cake with his bare hands and stuffing it into his mouth. Since Dudleys parents were restricting his diet due to his weight, it had been days since hed tasted sweets. Seizing the opportunity, he indulged freely now. Slow down, Cousin, Harry said, watching Dudley like one might observe a mischievous child, his expression oddly gentle. To Hagrid, the sight was both eerie and confusing. Hearing Harry, Dudley suddenly paused, looking between the cake and Harry before darting upstairs and then quickly returning. Here! Lets trade! Dudley shoved something into Harrys hands before continuing to gorge on the cake, mumbling through a mouthful of food. ...Happy birthday. Surprised, Harry examined what Dudley had thrust at hima game cartridge labeled Wizards Adventure. Guess Ill have to borrow your game console too, Harry chuckled. Dudley, still devouring cake, seemed to agree. It was an unexpected yet oddly heartwarming birthday, and Harry found it rather enjoyable ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 7: Where Are My Warhammer and Shield? What About My Chainmail? After finishing the cake, Hagrid took Harry to London. To be honest, Harry was curiouswhy, as a member of the magical world, couldnt Hagrid simply apparate like those wizards who vanished and reappeared effortlessly on the street? Instead, he had to take the subway like an ordinary non-magical personoh, right, wizards called them Muggles. When Harry raised this question, Hagrid stammered and struggled to form a coherent responsehe clearly wasnt good at lying. But Harry understood... Hagrid had his difficulties. Since that was the case, there was no point pressing further. So why do wizards keep their gold with goblins? Harry asked while carefully examining an ancient keyhis parents keepsake that Hagrid had handed to him. From the way you described them, their greed for gold sounds just like goblins. No sane person would willingly entrust their money to goblins. Its harder to retrieve your own money than asking for their liveseven if its rightfully yours. Banks weren''t unheard of in Azeroth either, but neither the Alliance nor the Horde would ever let goblins control their banking systems. From Hagrids descriptions, goblins here essentially held sway over the wizarding economy. Goblins? Hagrid looked startled, shaking his head. Goblins arent just pesky garden pests; theyve even started uprisings before. So wizards entrusted their economy to a greedy, unaligned race? Harry found it baffling. Or maybe he just didnt fully understand the wizarding world yet. There had to be reasons for their decisions. Dont worry, Harry, Hagrid reassured him. Though I dont much like the goblins at Gringotts, you wont have any trouble getting your money. Well, thats a relief, Harry nodded but couldnt help asking, By the way, Hagrid, did my parents leave me a sizable inheritance? Ill need a good warhammer and a shield, Harry said eagerly, and if possible, a custom-fitted chainmail suit. Speaking of which, do wizard blacksmiths craft armor that automatically adjusts to the wearers size? Otherwise, it could be tricky to forge armor properly. The mere thought of new equipment made Harry excited. The pure joy of upgrading gear never faded. But when he glanced at Hagrid, he saw a bewildered expression on his large face. A w-warhammer? A shield? Hagrid stammered. Young wizards dont need such things, Harry! Didnt the letter list what you need? I dont recall seeing anything like that. I saw... three sets of black work robes, a hat, a pair of protective gloves, and a cloak, Harry sighed. None of these cloth items offer any sense of security, Hagrid. I wear chainmail; cloth armor would just weaken my combat abilities.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. In Azeroth, plate armor offered the highest defense, followed by chainmail, leather, and then cloth. Shamans wore chainmail even though they were spellcasters, as it provided additional benefits in combatprotecting allies, enhancing them, and sometimes personally defeating enemies was part of their role. Well, theres no such thing here! Hagrids face flushed. Why would you even think of that? There havent been blacksmiths in Diagon Alley for ages, Harry! Dont mention this at school, or the other young wizards will laugh at you! Hagrids expression suggested he had endured such ridicule before. It doesnt matter, Harry said calmly. Let them talk. Ill do what I mustthe Earth Mother will protect me. The teasing of young wizards? Ha, what did that amount to compared to the storms Harry had weathered? As a human hero of the Horde and the Tauren, Harry was seen by the Alliance as a traitor, despite his many contributions during world-threatening crises. Most Alliance members, except a few close human friends, harbored animosity towards him. The SI:7 intelligence agency had even attempted assassinations to erase this human stain. Though some extremists in the Horde also rejected him, the Tauren always considered him one of their own. SoHarry didnt care. Truly, he didnt. Long ago, he had learned to ignore hateful words and animosityunless someone confronted him directly. In such cases, Harry would wield his storm-infused warhammer to make their heads bloom. Perhaps it would even bear fruit next year. Well... okay, okay. Hagrid was taken aback by Harrys composure and determination, realizing it wasnt an act. He murmured, Fearless courage, eh? Harry, youll surely end up in Gryffindor. Gryffindor? Harry mused. Actually, I think Hufflepuff might suit me better. He recalled Hagrids descriptions of Hogwarts four houses, which were clearly colored by personal bias. Gryffindor was brave, Hufflepuff was clumsy, Ravenclaw was bookish, and Slytherin was full of dark wizardsaccording to Hagrid, at least. Absolutely not! For the first time, Hagrid was firm. If you ended up in Hufflepuff, people would go madme included... though I know you wouldnt care. Anywaywelcome to the Leaky Cauldron. Before Harry stood an aged wooden door nestled between a large bookstore and a record shop, blending into the narrow space without a sign or anything unusual to distinguish it. Harry noticed that while passersby saw him and Hagrid standing there, none of their gazes landed on the doormore wizard magic, no doubt. Before we go in, Harry, Hagrid said, gripping the door handle, youre far more famous than you realize. Stay calm. Without waiting for a reply, Hagrid pushed open the door to the Leaky Cauldron. The bar was cramped and grimyno matter how much Hagrid had praised it earlier, Harrys first impression was simply that. It was not only cramped and grimy but poorly lit. Some robed figures gathered at tables, drinking or smoking and chatting in small groups. Still, it was better than the worst adventurers taverns Harry had visited. As Harry took in this supposed gateway between the wizarding and Muggle worlds, Hagrid greeted the bars owner. But that wasnt the main eventwhat mattered was that everyone in the bar stood up and rushed toward Harry, faces brimming with enthusiasm. Frankly, Harry was thankful his warhammer wasnt with him. The last time so many humans surrounded him, it hadnt been a friendly encounter. Thankfully, Hagrid used his broad frame to shield Harry from the grasping hands and forcibly guided him away. There were simply too many people. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 8: Where Are My Warhammer and Shield? What About My Chainmail? (2) "I know you''re a bit nervous, Harry, but you have to forgive them," Hagrid said, patting Harry''s shoulder with what he thought was a light touch. "If it weren''t for you defeating You-Know-Who the night you were born, no one knows what the wizarding world would look like now. They''re truly grateful to youreally grateful. Like I said, you''re a celebrity. I think you''re even more famous than the Minister of Magic." "A baby can''t possibly defeat an adult wizard, Hagrid," Harry said calmly, unmoved by the admiration and praise from those people earlier. "It must have been some magic my parents used to protect me." No one knew better than Harry himself what he used to be like. "You never know," Hagrid said, eyeing Harry up and down with a chuckle. "Ive got a newspaper clipping saved back at my place. Youll see it when you start school." "What newspaper?" Harry was momentarily confused, but Hagrid decided to keep it a mystery and said nothing more. "See that trash bin, Harry?" Hagrid stopped in front of a wall and raised his hand. "Count three bricks up, then two bricks acrossthere." With a gentle tap of his umbrella tip on the final brick, the wall began shifting and retracting in all directions, soon revealing a whole new world. "Welcome, Harry, welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid announced, though he couldn''t spot any sign of shock on Harry''s face. Ahead lay a winding cobblestone street that stretched out of sight, lined on both sides by shops filled with all sorts of unique and magical items. Unlike the Muggle streets outside, the people here dressed in ways that suited the image of wizards perfectly. Dumbledore was rightevery young wizard''s first exploration of the magical world shouldn''t be ruined. Even Harry found himself excited by the mystery and wonder of this strange new realm. Adventure and discovery had always been among his favorite pursuits. In front of one shop, a magical cauldron stirred itself; a wizard travel agency advertised terrifying journeys promising unprecedented experiences; a parchment store displayed rolls that unrolled and flattened themselves while a quill scribbled away on them... But as a druid, what truly rooted Harry in place were the herb shops. Too many unfamiliar herbs were displayed there. One mushroom, though plucked and boxed, still hopped around nonstop. Another herb, called Spider Egg Bloom, had green berries on both sides and roots that looked exactly like a spider''s legs. Harry''s attention was completely absorbed by these magical herbs. In Azeroth, two of his key professions were herbalism and blacksmithing. Herbalism was something he picked up from the tauren, providing extra rewards during his global adventures and offering materials for blacksmithing, which also helped him earn some money.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Harry particularly enjoyed crafting his own gear, believing it fit him better that way. After several unsuccessful attempts to drag Harry away, Hagrid finally resorted to lifting him up and carrying him out of the herb shop. Harry, stiff as a board, kept his eyes locked on the wondrous herbs inside. Despite this, Hagrid still had to cover the cost for Harry to bring back a batch of lavender hibiscus and sagesince Harry hadn''t yet withdrawn money from Gringotts. "Honestly, Harry, I''m starting to think youd be perfect for Hufflepuff," Hagrid muttered as he finally set Harry down after walking a good distance to ensure he wouldnt run back. "Professor Sprout would love your passion for herbs, though... well, all right." "It''s just a hobby," Harry said dismissively, raising a sprig of lavender hibiscus to his nose. "Do centaurs really use this in divination? Do you know the exact process?" Harry''s decision to buy those herbs was prompted by the shopkeeper''s claim that centaurs would burn lavender hibiscus and sage together to divine the future. According to the shopkeeper, centaursmagical creatures (though Hagrid whispered they wouldnt appreciate being called that)resembled the centaurs in Harrys memories, though they seemed far more peaceful and weaker here. In Harrys past experience, the best centaur was typically a dead one. However, in this world, centaurs were listed as magical creatures protected by wizards, and their divination skills were highly sought afterand expensive. Hiring a centaur for divination required not only significant material costs but also the right connections. But that wasnt the point. The point was that, as a shaman and a seer recognized by the tauren tribe, Harry also possessed the ability to predict the future and foresee omens. Some of these prophecies came from whispers of the elements, warnings from elemental beings, or guidance from ancestral spirits. Others arose directly from Harry himselfintangible, spiritual premonitions. This not only made his prophecies more accurate but also made him a thorn in the side of many. Due to the independent and elusive nature of elemental spirits, shamans in the tauren tribe traditionally had to interpret and convey the elements'' messages themselves. Because of this intermediary role, misunderstandings occasionally occurred, such as misinterpreting elemental warnings or ancestral guidance. There were even instances where demons disguised themselves as elemental spirits, leading orcs astray. Sometimes these interpretations seemed cryptic, lacking a direct connection for those unable to hear the spirits themselves. But Harry was different. Very different. Unlike traditional shamans, Harry could directly convey the whispers of the elements into understandable speech. Under certain conditions, he could even project brief glimpses of the future onto a water screen for everyone to see, offering them a clear vision of what lay ahead. This unique ability naturally drew suspicion from some wizardswell, lets be honest, many believed those so-called future glimpses were illusions conjured by Harrys magic. But that skepticism diminished after a bronze dragon named Chromie paid a visit. Bronze dragons were the guardians of the timeline in Azeroth, their dragonflight led by one of the great dragon aspects. Harrys extraordinary prophetic abilities set him apart from other shamans, allowing him to rise above rivals and earn the title of Seera figure tasked with guiding the tauren tribe, safeguarding them from danger, and charting their path forward. Harry once wondered why his powers manifested so differently and uniquely from other shamans after embracing their path. But now he understoodit all stemmed from the unique magic within him, originating from another world. Such extraordinary magic. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 9: Prophecies, Divination, and My Goblin Friends: Even after an in-depth discussion with Gianna, Harry developed a unique divination spell of his own, bringing a sense of structure to the otherwise chaotic art of shamanistic prophecy. "Oh, centaur divination, you mean?" Hagrid shrugged as they walked through Diagon Alley. "You know, I cant use magic myself, but even if I could, Id never make sense of what centaurs say. Honestly, not many wizards can." "Theyre always going on about the starstoo bright, too dim, something like thator theyll say things you cant make heads or tails of," Hagrid sighed. "I cant understand it myself, but there are plenty of wizards who swear by centaur divination." "But honestly, Harry, you didnt need to buy those herbs," Hagrid said, glancing at the bag of lavender and sage in Harrys hand. "The Forbidden Forest has plenty of that stuff. Once youre back at Hogwarts, I could gather some for youthough I didnt think youd be interested in divination." "I have a few ideas I want to try," Harry replied vaguely, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. "The Forbidden Forestdoes it really have so much good stuff?" Well, maybe it wasnt a complete change of topic. Harry was genuinely curious. The name alone conjured images of magical herbs, rare and priceless specimens, or perhaps even a variety of magical creatures classified by wizards. Just the word "Forbidden" felt enticing. "Hey, Harry, your eyes are practically glowing, you know that?" Hagrid laughed heartily, then warned, "But dont get any ideas about playing in the Forbidden Forest. Students arent allowed in there, and Im not about to let you in either. Merlin knows it nearly killed me trying to get the Weasley twins out of there once." Hagrid sighed heavily. "Still," he added thoughtfully, "if the stars align and the centaurs hold one of their rituals, I could take you to see how they divine the future. Youve got quite the reputation with them, and Im on decent terms with the centaurs." Hagrid muttered under his breath, "At least theyre more reliable than the Divination professor..." "Hogwarts has Divination classes?" Harry asked, catching that last part. "Though the professor doesnt sound particularly reliable?" "Dont ask, Harry! Dont ask!" Hagrid exclaimed loudly. "Im not one to bad-mouth my colleagues!" A fine sentiment indeed. Though, judging by his reaction, Hagrid had already said plenty. "Alright, we wont talk about it," Harry said, tucking the lavender back into his bag. "Lets go withdraw some moneyI cant wait." Turning coins into gear and supplies, diving into adventures, and then turning treasures from adventures back into coinsHarry suddenly felt like hed returned to a familiar rhythm since stepping into Diagon Alley. Now, it was time to gather his seed money for the journey ahead. Harry realized that it wasnt just his body that felt young againhis heart did too. The connection between body and spirit was undeniable. At least for now, he felt the same excitement hed felt when he first left Thunder Bluff to explore the outside world. From Thunder Bluff to Felwood Forest, from Kalimdor to the Eastern Kingdoms... That sense of joy stayed with Harry until he saw the goblins at Gringotts. ApologiesI mean goblins. So similar. Too similar. Aside from being a bit taller, they were strikingly similar to the goblins Harry remembered. Especially the warning about thieves on the wall near the entrance and the goblins'' dismissive attitudes when they glanced at Harry and Hagrids clothing.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Harry never imagined that his first reminder of Azeroth in this world would come from goblins. Instinctively, he clutched his nonexistent walletthen remembered he didnt have one yet. Wonderful. The inheritance Harrys parents had left him was far greater than hed imagined. After a harrowing ride on the mine cart, the vault door opened to reveal a literal mountain of gold coins. Silver and bronze coins barely caught his attention. Honestly, the Gringotts carts reminded Harry of the goblin racing eventsthose wild death-defying tournaments where only the craziest goblins participated, aiming to destroy their rivals and cross the finish line alive. Fast, thrilling, and nearly as stomach-churning as being snatched mid-air by a dragon. After gaining a rough understanding of the wizarding worlds economy, Harry judged that the money in front of him was more than enough for seven years of school and plenty of leisureand he wouldnt need to work for years after graduation. On top of that, there were magical artifacts lining the shelves of the vault. Harry gave them a quick glance but decided to leave them be, focusing instead on stuffing Hagrids pouch with gold coins. He even insisted on paying for the lavender and sage, despite Hagrids protests. After all, Harry suspected the pouch itself was quite valuable. While it wasnt the kind of bag he remembered from Azeroth, divided into countless compartments, it had a similar function: deceptively small but capable of holding a great deal. Another hair-raising mine cart ride later, Harry accompanied Hagrid to retrieve something from a deeper vault. Hagrid was tight-lipped about what it was, and Harry didnt pry. Tauren know how to respect privacy. "Sorry, Harry," Hagrid said shakily after they finally exited Gringotts. "I think I need a drinkyou know, that damned cart nearly did me in. Why dont you go buy your robes? That might take a bit of time." "Completely understandable," Harry agreed, his own complexion pale. "Dont worry, Hagrid, I wont wander off." "Alright... See you in a bit?" Hagrid hesitated, taking in Harrys unusually composed demeanor. "Of course, see you soon." Watching Hagrids slightly unsteady figure disappear toward the Leaky Cauldron, Harry turned back and re-entered Gringotts. "Sir?" The goblin at the door looked puzzled as Harry approached. "Is something the matter?" "I need a favor," Harry said, brushing back his hair to reveal the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. This scar, present since birth, was said to mark him as the vanquisher of the Dark Lord. After his earlier experience at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry fully understood how significant this scar was to the wizarding world. "By Merlin!" Predictably, the goblins eyes widened. "Youre... Harry Potter!" It was a reaction Harry was growing used topeople gasping, lowering their voices, and whispering his name in awe. "Yes, thats me," Harry replied calmly, letting his hair fall back into place. He extended a hand toward the goblin. "I need some helpwould you be willing?" "Of course!" The goblin''s demeanor shifted instantly, becoming warm and eager. "It would be my honor to assist the famous Harry Potter. My name is Copperclaw. What can I do for you?" Naturally, Copperclaws sudden enthusiasm wasnt just due to Harrys name or scar. It was the gold Galleon Harry had discreetly pressed into his hand during the handshake. Harry was an expert at dealing with goblins. He knew they loved wealth in all its forms but were even more enamored by the thrill of acquiring it. A single Galleon might not bribe a wizard, but for a goblin, it was more than enoughespecially for something trivial. "Ive heard that goblins have always been the best craftsmen," Harry said quietly, pulling Copperclaw aside. "Do you know of any reliable smiths? I need a weapon forgedperhaps some armor as well." Harry hadnt abandoned his plan for self-protection. He had simply taken a different approach. While he longed to forge his own armor and weapons like he had in Azeroth, he was painfully aware of his current limitations. His young body lacked the strength and stamina for smithing. But until he could forge his own gear, he wasnt about to leave himself defenseless. Having deduced from Hagrids reaction that wizards largely dismissed melee weapons and armor, Harry guessed that blacksmiths had long disappeared from Diagon Alley. Instead, hed learned through subtle questioning that goblins might still preserve the craft. "Weapons? Armor?" Copperclaw gave Harry a surprised look, clearly not expecting such a request from a wizard. "Of course," Copperclaw said with a wide grin. "I know a master smith, but..." "Ill pay generouslyfor both his services and yours," Harry said calmly. "But let me remind you, my goblin friendIm Harry Potter. Think about the Ministry of Magic." "...Of course," Copperclaws smile faltered briefly. He sighed, muttering, "Harry Potterbig name, big trouble. Maybe I shouldnt have taken that Galleon in the first place." "But if you had the chance again, youd take it anyway." "Naturally," Copperclaw replied without hesitation. "Why wouldnt I? Easy money." Harry had expected no less. In their agreement, Harry would pay up to a hundred Galleons for a half-plate armor set and a warhammer with a shielda price three hundred Galleons less than the monthly salary of the Minister of Magic. For Copperclaw, this was no more than a toy. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 10: Harrys New Wand Just think about Harrys requirements for a moment. First of all, the armor and weapons couldnt be too large, because Harry was at an age where he was still growing. As a result, the armor was a simplified version: enough to protect his chest, back, arms, and legs, but without gloves or bracers. In fact, it was basically just a breastplate and greavesadjustable to Harry''s size, thanks to a flexible structure with gaps. This same design, however, lowered its protective capabilities, which explained its affordability. Another reason for its low cost was that the armor and weapons werent truly magical. In Azeroth, theyd be classified as white-tier equipment: utterly ordinary. Any Muggle blacksmith could make something similar, so naturally, they werent worth much. Until Harry could craft his own weapons and armor, he planned to make do with these simplified versions. To Copperring, Harry Potters peculiar, almost archaic request seemed like a childs whimsical fancya celebritys little plaything. But in Harrys eyes, these were no mere toys. Even if this gear was nothing more than basic white-tier equipment, wearing it enabled him to meet the criteria for casting certain spells. As for the three cloth robes hed bought at Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasions? Harry only planned to use them as cloaks to avoid attracting attention. After all, in the wizarding world, he was already drawing quite enough of that. The fitting process for the robes passed without incident. Although, there was one blond boy who, clearly bored, kept trying to strike up a conversation with Harry. Harry, however, ignored him. The boys tone and the subtle arrogance in his words activated Harrys internal alarms. Without a doubt, this was a poorly-raised child, and Harry had no intention of helping to rectify someone elses parenting mistakesso long as the boy didnt cross him. After the measurements were done, Harry requested a copy of his dimensions from Madam Malkin, planning to send them to Copperring via owl to commission a set of fitted armor. Hagrid was waiting outside for him, holding a cage containing a snowy owl classified as a snow owl. Birthday present, Harry, Hagrid said with a broad grin. Hope yeh like herI figured yeh wouldnt be one fer toads or anythin, so I picked out this fine young lady. Aint she beautiful? Shes wonderful, Hagrid, Harry said earnestly. Thank you. I needed an owl to send messages, and shes perfect. A friends gift always lifts the spirits. Returning to the world where he was born, Harry felt as though hed made his first true friend. A giant who pretended not to be a giant. Glad yeh like her, Hagrid said, scratching his unruly hair in delight. Now, theres just one last thingwe need to get yeh a wand. A wand! Let me repeat: no one can resist the thrill of getting new gear. No onenot even Harry. The wand shop where wizards purchased their weapons matched Harrys earlier imaginings perfectly. It had a distinct old-world charm but was meticulously maintained, without a speck of dust in sight. Ollivanders Wand Shop felt incredibly cramped. Even though Hagrid didnt come in, muttering excuses as he stayed outside, Harry still found the space tight. Shelves lined with long boxes stretched to the ceiling on either side, and some open boxes revealed wands resting inside. A room full of magical weapons. Harry judged them to be at least blue-tier in quality, with a few epic purple-tier ones mixed in. Perhaps even more extraordinary, these wands seemed to have their own spirits, which made them all the more precious. After all, shamans believe everything has a spiritstorms, fire, water, nature, animals, even ancestors. Shamans communicate with these unseen spirits, relying on them for guidance and strength. Naturally, Harry quickly sensed the spirits of the wands. It was as if they were trying to communicate with him, but their voices were too faint. Oddly enough, though hed been in the shop for some time, no one had come out to greet him. Still, Harry thought that if all he had to do was choose a wand, he could handle that on his own. Closing his eyes, Harry listened to the call of the spirits. The countless wands displayed in the shop transformed into a multitude of leaping souls, each vying for his attention. This one was too livelyHarry preferred something more composed. That one was too passiveit barely stirred in response to his call.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Some were cool and reserved; others were agitated and reckless. Some surged forward boldly, while others seemed restless and uncertain. Frankly, Harry was overwhelmed by the variety. Fortunately, after carefully sensing each one, Harry finally stopped in front of a particular shelf. Opening his eyes, he stood on tiptoe and deftly pulled down a box from the top row. Inside lay a wand, resting calmly in its place. It was as black as obsidian, with a matte surface so smooth it resembled polished jade. Its understated elegance exuded a quiet strength that demanded attention. Clap, clap, clap. Harry looked up to see an old man with silvery-white hair standing on the mezzanine, gazing at him. The mans pale eyes shone like twin moons in the dim shop. Marvelous, simply marvelous, Ollivander said softly, his voice full of wonder. It seems youve made your choice. Harry had the distinct impression that Ollivander wasnt just speaking to him but also to the wand in his hand. Such remarkable talent, my boy, Ollivander said with genuine delight. I always thought only members of the Ollivander family or those whove worked with wands for years could see their glow. Yet here you are, so young, and already able to perceive it. I only saw their spirits, really, Harry said modestly, noting Ollivanders choice of words for the wands and matching his phrasing. You have an incredible gift too, sir. The compliment was heartfelt. If Ollivander could sense and communicate with the wands spirits, Harry thought, he was the most likely candidate for a shaman among all the wizards Harry had met so far. Spirit? That term sounds like something an African shaman might say, Ollivander chuckled a few times. But as far as I know, many of the spells at Uagadou are cast using fingers or hand gestures. Uagadou is Africas premier wizarding school, holding the same esteemed status as Hogwarts and boasting a history of over a thousand years. Its an internationally renowned institution. If a wand can enhance the power of magic, then I think using a wand is the optimal choice, Harry responded. ...Thats a rare perspective, Mr. Potter, Ollivander gave Harry a surprised glance. From what I know, most wizards aspire to silent or wandless magic because it represents both convenience and personal strengtheven though the power of spells tends to diminish without the use of a wand. That sounds... self-defeating, Harry mused, carefully choosing a less confrontational term. If theres effective equipment available, why not use it? Especially when it can amplify ones abilities. After all, weapons should be the best you can find. Even guardianswho stand at the pinnacle of the magical professionstill rely on wands to stabilize their magical flow and enhance their power. To Harry, deliberately foregoing a tool that clearly enhanced ones abilities to cast spells was an incomprehensible choice. Well, it does look impressive, and of course, its convenient, Ollivander replied, increasingly fond of Harrys practical view on wands. Mr. Potter, if youre truly interested in wands, Id be delighted to take you on as an apprentice when youre in your seventh year. As I mentioned earlier, you have quite the talent. However, seven years is a bit far off, and its too early to make such decisions, Ollivander continued without waiting for Harrys reply. Right now, Mr. Potter, what you should be more concerned with is the wand in your hand. Yes, the wand, Ollivanders voice dropped to a somber tone as he seemed to drift into memories. Your eyes are the same as your mothers, a lovely shade of emerald. She purchased her first wand here, ten and a quarter inches, willow wood Your father, on the other hand, preferred a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable, with stronger power, particularly suited for Transfiguration Harry found the old mans memory far sharper than he had imaginedor perhaps it was simply because his family was so famous? And now, Mr. Potter, Ollivander suddenly leaned closer, his gaze gleaming with a mysterious light. Harry noticed he was actually peering through the fringe of his hair at the scar on his forehead. Everything is different now. I once thought you would end up with this wand, Ollivander muttered, retrieving a wand from the shelves. Holly wood, phoenix feather core, eleven inches longwhats most important is the core. It shares the same core as the wand that left you that scar. What could this mean? Have you transcended your destiny? Broken free from its bonds? But why? What happened? Ollivander fell into contemplative silence. ...Voldemorts wand? Harry ventured, piecing together what Ollivander seemed to imply. Oh, dont say that name, child! Ollivander shuddered visibly, snapping out of his reverie. Pointing to the box Harry held, he added, Take it up. Thirteen and a half inches, ebony, with a thunderbird tail feather core. Harry hesitated not a moment before picking up the wand. He couldnt quite describe the sensationit was as if his arm had extended, warm and perfectly under his control. The air filled with a scent of fresh grass, reminiscent of what Harry had smelled on Thunder Bluff, mingled with the warmth of sunlight on his skin and the faint rumble of distant thunder. Ollivander clapped his hands once more. Talentpure talent, he said, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye. Only a rare few are able to find a wand truly suited to them. Ebony wands typically choose individuals with the courage to be themselves, those who defy convention and thrive as outsiders, Ollivander explained, speaking of wand materials with expertise. You are someone who can ignore external pressures and hold steadfast to your beliefs, Mr. Potter. How extraordinary. Why did I ever think of pairing such an unconventional wand with a thunderbird tail feather core? Though it does enhance the wands power, especially in Transfiguration, it also makes it far more challenging to masterI truly thought this wand would remain here forever. You will accomplish great things, Mr. Potter. Great things. Amid Ollivanders cryptic ramblings, Harry left the shop, seven Galleons lighter. To be honest, Ollivanders eccentricity made Harry think hed make an excellent shaman. A traditional shaman. Got your wand, eh? Hagrid, waiting by the door, looked relieved. Took you long enoughhows the new wand feel? Perfect, Harry replied eagerly, his new equipment in hand. I cant wait to test it out. It was this sense of discovery and novelty that had driven Harrys love of adventure during his time in Azerotha thirst for the unknown. Under Hagrids guidance, Harry gathered all his supplies, including books beyond the required reading listanything that piqued his interest. This prompted Hagrid to mutter something about Harry being sorted into Ravenclaw, while earning him a 50% discount at Flourish and Blotts. Dont ask whyjust know that Harry Potter shopping for books was an event worth commemorating. The price for the discount? Leaving a signed copy of his name for the shopkeepera small perk of fame. But for Harry, the most important thing upon returning to Number Four, Privet Drive, was performing a ritual. A traditional shamanic ceremony, ancient and reverent, paying homage to the elements and spirits. Harry planned to attempt his first true invocation of the elements in this world. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 11: The Souls of the Parents (1) Many believe that shamans serve the elemental forces, acting as their subordinates. In truth, their relationship is often one of mutual communication and equality. Elementals possess their own willthey can experience joy, anger, betrayal, and even hostility toward one another. The role of a shaman is to maintain balance among these forces, preventing their conflicts from becoming so severe that the natural order is disrupted. Its a symbiotic process. The presence of a shaman brings balance and integration to the elements, while the shaman thrives and grows stronger through the power of the elements. Harry was certain that even in the world of his birth, there existed a significant degree of elemental power. This was not only because he had already summoned dormant elements, but also because this world itself exuded harmony and balance. A lack of water elements would dry up rivers. A deficiency of earth elements would render the land barren. Without wind, the air would grow stagnant. And the absence of fire would lead to decay and desolation. Both scarcity and excess are undesirable. Only balance provides the optimal environment for human survival. Based on everything Harry had observed so far, the elemental forces of this world were undoubtedly in balance. Lighting a strand of mallow and sage, Harry inhaled their smoke deeplythe soft floral fragrance carried a faint powdery texture, mingling with the sharpness of camphor. Yes, this aroma was just right. Although different worlds have distinct herbs, Harry had to admit that the centaurs of this world had chosen wisely for their rituals. It was said that centaur shamans used such methods of divination to guide their tribes. Harry found himself curious to witness how his counterparts in this world conducted their practices. However, his immediate concern was how to carve a proper totem for the ritual. In battle, totems could be directly condensed using earth elements, but those for rituals needed to be hand-carved to hold meaning and earn the elements'' acknowledgment. Harry had scoured his newly purchased magical books and found spells that could assist in this task. Yet after several attempts, he had to admit that his current skills were insufficient for such precise craftsmanship. Moreover, he still hadnt fully grasped the temperament of this worlds elements, making it difficult to even prepare appropriate offerings. Simplicity seemed the best approach for now.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Seizing the opportunity while the Dursleys were awaythough they had softened toward Harry due to his promised inheritance, they would surely lose their tempers if they caught him conducting magical rituals at homehe chose a secluded corner in the shadow of the garden fence. From the refrigerator, Harry gathered fruits, Dudleys snacks, and Uncle Vernons liquor, arranging them neatly as offerings. Summoning the power of the earth element, Harry raised a totem engraved with water patterns from the garden soil. As he chanted, he plunged it into the ground. The patterns on the totem reflected both calm serenity and turbulent waves. Next, three more totems emerged, each inscribed with designs representing earth, wind, and fire. They too were inserted into the ground. The carvings, drawn from Harrys knowledge of the Tauren tribes, carried a raw and primal beauty, full of strength. ...Storm, Earth, Fire, hear my call! Raising his arms, Harry cried out. Suddenly, the mallow and sage before him burst into flames. Despite being fresh and green, their leaves burned fiercely, as if they had been dried for ages. The dark green smoke didnt drift upward or follow the natural wind. Instead, it coiled around Harrys neck like a serpent, entering his nostrils. In that moment, under the intoxicating influence of the smoke, Harrys consciousness slipped into a trance. The real world faded, replaced by shifting, kaleidoscopic colors that enveloped him. He seemed to hear a deep, resonant hum, like the breathing of a giant. It was steady yet thunderous, overwhelming to mortal ears. The vision lingered. By the time the mallow and sage had burned to ash, Harry wasnt sure how much time had passed before he finally opened his eyes. He could sense the elements communicatingwhispering through crashing waves, splitting lightning, and the brittle snap of dry branches. Yet their vitality was faint, as though they had suffered a cataclysm in ancient times, leaving them deeply wounded and dormant ever since. The magic Harry had previously performed was less a response from the elements themselves and more akin to the forceful manipulation seen in corrupt shamans. This... is going to be a monumental task Harry sighed deeply. In Azeroth, such a crisiswhere the elements of an entire world were weak to the point of dormancywould have prompted him to seek help from the Earthen Ring, the shamanic organization dedicated to restoring balance and power to the elements. But unfortunately, in the world of his birth, Harry suspected he was the only one who could shoulder this responsibility. His magical books had already hinted at the decline of wizards power in this world. What could one person achieve? Even as a mage, Jainas immense power wasnt enough to prevent Theramore from being obliterated before her eyes. And what about him? Looking down at his hands, Harry pondered. If he was to walk the shamans path in this world and fulfill the vow he made on the day he became a shamanto restore the elements and maintain their balancehe knew it would be a task far beyond the capability of any single individual. Perhaps, like the Tauren shaman Muln Earthfury, who founded the Earthen Ring to protect the world and maintain elemental balance, he too would need to establish an organization here. But such ambitions felt too distant for now. Harry stood up. After all, he was still a child. Few would take a childs words seriously, let alone follow their teachings. Perhaps its time to try another approach? ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 12: The Souls of the Parents (2) Harry had been about to pack up and leave when he abruptly turned back, a thought surfacing in his mind. During his curious perusal of wizarding books, he had noticed something intriguingghosts existed within the wizarding world. When a wizard passed away, if they harbored an unrelenting obsession or unfulfilled desires, their soul could return to this world in the form of a ghost. Soulsapart from the elements, they were another domain of expertise for a shaman. Shamans not only communicated with spirits to seek wisdom but could also summon them to assist in work or battle. This raised a question... His parents... Were they wizards too? Parents. Every time Harry encountered the word, his emotions became tangled. In his life, there were three couples who could claim that title. The ones he held dearest, however, were not related to him by bloodthe Bloodhoof couple, the honorable Tauren who had raised him. Waving his hand, Harry dispelled the four totems representing the elements and chanted a spell anew. This time, under his guidance, the totem shaped by the earth element stood alonea larger, sturdier pillar that represented ancestral worship in Tauren culture. The carvings on the totem pole depicted the heroic Tauren who had sacrificed themselves for the tribe over countless years. While Harry wasn''t summoning Tauren ancestors this time, considering his true lineage... it should be fine, right? Closing his eyes, he invoked the spirits of the ancestorsa fundamental skill for any shaman. He had done it countless times and was adept at it. But this time, unlike the symbolic murmurs of the elements he usually heard, Harry found himself in a thick mist. Dark, smoky tendrils enveloped everything around him as he walked down an endless path. Beyond the road beneath his feet, there was only the boundless, deep green fog. It felt like many eyes hid within the mist, watching himsome curious, others greedy. Was this the afterlife in the wizarding world? Harry''s spiritual instincts flared, but he remained unafraid. Guided by the spirits, he pressed onward, holding onto the invisible thread that connected him to something ahead. Eventually, he saw two figuresa man and a woman. When Harry finally opened his eyes in the real world, he saw the two spirits floating before him, their faces marked by the same confusion.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Their translucent, bluish-green forms differed from the pearly white descriptions in wizarding books. Wisps of smoke trailed from their spectral bodies. Harry couldnt discern if the womans eyes matched his emerald green, as Hagrid and Ollivander had claimed, but he could make out the mans features. The mans face bore a striking resemblance to his own. Or rather, Harry thought, his face resembled the mans. ...Harry? The womans trembling voice broke the silence. She reached out with both arms. Is it really you, Harry? A ghostly embrace. To be honest, it wasnt a pleasant experience. The sensation of a ghost passing through ones body was akin to being doused in icy water on a frigid winter daya coldness that pierced both body and soul. Harry sighed and turned to look at the sorrowful woman. Her inability to physically hold him seemed to deepen her sadness. Yes, its me, Harry hesitated, but ultimately uttered the two words, ...Mother. Relief washed over him. Back in Azeroth, Harry had resented his biological parents, wanting to question why they had abandoned him, leaving him to grow up under the scolding of his aunt and uncle. That resentment, paired with the love of the Bloodhoof couple, had driven him to abandon his human identity and grow up as a Tauren in Azeroth. And he had done so resolutely. Yet, after returning to the world of his eleven-year-old self, Harry learned the truthhis biological parents hadnt abandoned him intentionally. They had died as heroes. That revelation seemed to unlock something within him. They were no different from the heroes who had sacrificed themselves to protect Azeroth. While this didnt alter Harrys established worldview or self-perception, it did allow him to release the resentment he had held toward his parents. At leasthe was certain they had loved him, just as the Bloodhoof family had. And you too, Father, Harry added, turning to the male spirit hovering in front of him. The man, James Potter, waggled his eyebrows and grinned as if trying to communicate silently. Aha! James twirled in the air. Finally! I get to hear my childs voice! Do ghosts shed tears? Harry could see them in his mothers eyesLily Potters gaze was brimming with gratitude and joy. There was so much to sayconversations that spanned life and death, between parents long gone and a grown child. But Pop! A faint crack, the sound of Apparition, interrupted them. Harry was well-acquainted with it by now. Turning toward the garden, he spotted a sullen-looking man standing in the street. Beside him, Mrs. Figg, their neighbor, was walking toward him anxiously. Both were staring in his direction. No, Harry realized, the wizard who had Apparated wasnt looking at himhe was staring at the spirits beside him. His mother. ...Lily, the mans whispered words carried on the wind to Harrys ears. Oh? Harry thought to himself. This might get interesting. Snivellus! James Potters disgusted voice rang out the moment he noticed the newcomer. Why is it you? Dont talk like that, James. The child is here, Lily chided. Harry couldnt tell if her ghostly punch was light or heavy, but it silenced James for a moment. The sullen man didnt seem to hear anything. His eyes remained fixed on Lily. James, however, bristled with anger. Though his ethereal form couldnt block the mans view, he positioned himself in front of Lily. Hey! Snivellus! You looking for a fight? James snapped. Stop staring at Lily! I said not in front of the child! Lily scolded, likely twisting Jamess ghostly arm. She floated aside and addressed the man with a complex expression. Severus... are you okay? It was as if the man had been struck by lightning. Harry could see him visibly shudder, his entire body trembling violently. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 13: The Hidden Truth and Snape’s Oath Ignoring James Potters taunts, the grim-faced manlets just call him Snapehurried forward eagerly at the sound of Lily Potters call. So eager was he that he failed to notice the garden fence of the Dursley residence and walked straight into it. Snape frowned at the offending fence in irritation before performing a short-range Apparitionjust half a meterright into the garden. ... Is it really you? Snapes lips moved as though he had countless things to say, but he ultimately pressed them into a tight line, suppressing his emotions. Harry observed Snapes eyes. They seemed hollow, unfathomably deep, as though they were voids consuming all light. Meanwhile, James Potters spectral form zipped back and forth through Snapes body, his actions clearly intended to punish the man for his unwavering fixation on Lily. Unfortunately, it wasnt working. Snape ignored both Jamess ghostly presence and the icy sensations of his spectral form, keeping his focus entirely on Lilys spirit. This disregard only deepened Jamess frustration. Furious, James flew through Snapes body at an even faster pace. The scene was so absurdly comical that it dispelled the earlier somber atmosphere, allowing Harry to exhale a small sigh of relief. Harry glanced at Mrs. Figg in the distance. He recalled her as the odd old woman who had often babysat him when the Dursleys needed to leave him behind. Her house always smelled strongly of cabbage. Now, it seemed Mrs. Figg was connected to the wizarding world somehow. Was she stationed nearby to monitor himor protect him? Probably protect, Harry thought. What about his younger self could possibly need monitoring? Giving Mrs. Figg a polite nod, Harry turned back to the awkward tableau of Snape and the two ghosts. Why dont we go inside and talk? he suggested thoughtfully. This is far too conspicuous. After all, translucent spirits werent exactly everyday sights for Muggles. If Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came home to find their living room hosting a wizard and two ghosts, theyd likely faint on the spot. Luckily, they were out for the day. Inside the House The energy shifted as soon as they entered the Dursleys living room. Once they settledthough the ghosts floated rather than satthe chaotic scene outside seemed to evaporate. At Lilys gentle urging, Snape began to recount everything that had transpired in the years since her and Jamess deaths. To say Snape was a poor storyteller would be an understatement. It seemed that articulating his feelings about these events was excruciating for him. ... Thats about it, Snape concluded, his tone dry and his gaze hollow. After the Dark Lord vanished, things settled down. Over the years, I... followed Dumbledores orders and became the Potions Master at Hogwarts. Ha! James sneered. The Dark Lord? Only someone like you would call him that. Why on earth would Dumbledore let you teach? Who knows what you might do to the students! James! Lilys tone was sharp, her maternal instincts evident as she tried to maintain some semblance of decorum for Harrys sake. James, naturally exuberant and quick to anger, couldnt maintain the facade for long. No matter what I am, Snape retorted coldly, Im still better than someone who failed to protect his own wife and child. If you couldnt even do that, then He stopped himself abruptly, his fists clenching beneath his robes. Taking a deep breath, he regained his composure. A heavy silence descended. Even James was left speechless, for Snape had struck a nerve. It was the truth James most regretted and could never undo. We... I... I trusted the wrong person, James finally admitted, his voice hoarse. Indeed. Gryffindor loyalty, Snape sneered. Sirius Black. He betrayed Slytherin, and in the end, he betrayed you too. It wasnt Padfoot!! Jamess shout reverberated. Through gritted teeth, he growled, The real traitor was Wormtail! Peter! ... What? Snapes breath caught. This was why supernatural powers rendered detective work meaningless. When the dead themselves could name their killer, all investigations and deductions became moot. Sirius wasnt the traitor, James said mournfully. Lupin... well, you know how he is. At the time, neither Sirius nor I felt we could fully trust him. Everyone believed Sirius was our Secret-Keeper. Then one day, Sirius came to me with a plan: to switch to someone no one would ever suspect.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ... Peter? Snapes voice trembled with barely restrained fury. Then why did that idiot Black spend all those years in Azkaban? Why didnt he say a word?! Snape demanded, his anger erupting. After you died, he blew up a street and all they found of Peter was a finger! Hes a war hero who even received the Order of Merlin! Maybe... it was guilt, Lily said softly, tears glistening in her spectral eyes. Everyone present understood. The hardest burden to bear was often ones own guilt. Can I interrupt for a second? Harry tilted his head. Who are you even talking about? Oh, my boy, its all in the past. You dont need to worry about it, James said, forcing a smile as he looked at Harry. I just realized... if all goes well, you might not have to stay here anymore. Jamess gaze swept over the modest surroundings. If Sirius were still alive, hed be your godfatherand we all know he was innocent! Jamess expression grew feverishly intense as he turned to Snape, sending a shiver up the mans spine. Snape? Jamess tone was sweetalmost sickeningly so. Severus? The greatest Slytherin of them all? Enough. Shut up, Snape snarled, spitting the words through gritted teeth. That idiot... the idiot of all idiots! After finally uncovering what had truly transpired behind the scenes all those years ago, Snape could barely mention the name of that manwho thought himself so cleverwithout feeling like he might explode. So it wasso it was!!! In the entire wizarding world, it seems we were the only ones who believed he was innocent, Snape said impassively. What they need is evidence, not just my word for it. But youll help, wont you, Severus? Lily said softly. Look at this childso frail. Petunia hasnt raised him well at all. He deserves a better home Severus. The Dursleys mantel was crowded with photographs, yet not a single one of Harry. In stark contrast, the pictures of Dudley depicted a robust, well-fed boya glaring difference from the frail child sitting here. I will, Snape solemnly promised as he gazed at Lilys soul. Pardon me? Harry interjected. I dont really know the full history between you all, but from my perspective, I dont need someone suddenly stepping into my life, acting like a guardian and meddling in my businessIve got my own plans. Oh, Harry, of course, of course, James said with a sorrowful look at his son. Sirius is a good man; you wont see him as some overbearing adult figure. Right, more like an energetic, foolish dog, Snape added snidely. Always bounding aroundsuch a typical Gryffindor. Anyway, you definitely shouldnt stay here, James said, choosing to ignore Snapes remark given the current circumstances. He placed an imaginary arm around Harrys shoulder. You ought to live in the Potter familys ancestral home! Trust me, Harry, all the good stuffs there. Without bloodline verification, no one else could access our vaults. You didnt think wed leave the truly valuable items at Gringotts, did you? Goblins! Got it, Harry nodded. That does sound pretty great. An ancient family inheritance, coupled with answers to some of Harrys lingering questions about goblins. And perhaps we should factor in the Black family fortune too, Snape said, glancing at Lily. If that foolish dog does manage to get out, hell surely spoil this child rotten. Its alright, Severus, Lily said gently, looking at her childhood friend. Youll still be here, wont you? You must have been through so much all these years Her words, so tender, warmed Snapes heart like sunlight breaking through winters chill. He held his breath instinctively. He looked at Lily, and Lily gazed back at him with a look full of compassion. For a moment, Snape felt as if he had been transported back decadesto that afternoon. The sunlight bathed her face as she turned to look at him, her lips moving as if speaking words he could no longer hear. I will, Lily, Snape rasped, his voice hoarse with emotion. I swear it. A knock came at the door. Harry got up to answer it. To no ones great surprise, Albus Dumbledore stood outside. Good afternoon, my boy. If I said long time no see, would that be too abrupt? Dumbledore said cheerfully, just as lively as when theyd first met days ago. Good afternoon, Headmaster Dumbledore. Please, come in, Harry stepped aside. Thank you, Dumbledore said with a nod as he stepped inside, speaking as he walked. Apologies for our unexpected visit, but youve likely realized by now that Mrs. Figg has been quietly protecting you all these years. I hope you dont hold it against heryour safety is a matter of great importance to the entire wizarding world. Of course, it was Mrs. Figg who alerted us after noticing you performing a mysterious magical ritual earlier today and detecting its effects. Honestly, I should have come myself, but the Ministry summoned me for urgent matters. I had no choice but to send our Potions Master in my placeoh? Dumbledore stopped mid-sentence, stunned. Well this is quite the unexpected reunion, isnt it? As he walked through the corridor and caught sight of the scene in the living room, understanding dawned on him. He glanced at Harry and winked. It seems Ive uncovered why our Potions Master has been slow to respond, havent I? Long time no see, James, Lily, Dumbledore said with delight. At last, I can properly use that phrase. It seems youve had a marvelous adventure unbeknownst to us? Indeed, Professor Dumbledore, James replied with a grin. Its been the most wonderful adventure. Shared experiences often lead to endless conversations after a long separation. There was so much for everyone to catch up on. Meanwhile, Harry quietly listened, piecing together the events of the past from the fragments of information. His father had three friends he treated as brothers, but the four of them had clashed with Professor Snapelargely because of his mother. Harry decided to ignore the romantic entanglements of the previous generation. As someone with experience from another world, he was all too familiar with such thingseven the Blood Elf Prince Kaelthas had once challenged him to a duel over similar issues. Ultimately, his father had emerged victorious, and Harry, the child born from that union, had no complaints. His family had been targeted by Voldemort because his father trusted the wrong person. One of those trusted brothers betrayed him, leading directly to their deaths. Of the remaining two, one had wandered for years due to special circumstances, while the other, consumed by guilt, had punished himself by staying in prisonmost astonishingly, the latter was Harrys godfather. What could he say? Harry could only reflect that behind every tale of suffering lies a story full of twists and turns. So thats how it was, Dumbledore murmured, deep in thought. The events back then now it all makes sense ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: patreon(.)com/windkaze Chapter 14: Dumbledore’s Refusal and Harry Fully Armed (1) Rest assured, James, Lily, Dumbledore said, his expression turning grave. I will investigate this matter as thoroughly as I can and seek evidence to prove Siriuss innocence. But you must understandthe real obstacle lies with Sirius himself. He has refused to come forward. If he had spoken up back then, he wouldnt have stayed silent when he was captured. And it has been many years since. Without solid evidence, even I would find it exceedingly difficult to overturn the case, Dumbledore sighed, his tone heavy with regret. Many of the events from that time have already been sealed and forgotten. Even with concrete evidence, it wouldnt be easy, Snape remarked sarcastically. That Minister of Magic cares only about his approval ratings. Reopening this case would be political suicide. Oh, Severus, lets not be so absolute, Dumbledore replied with a gentle smile. After all, Fudge wasnt even in office during Siriuss trial. Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore, James and Lily said in unison, their gratitude evident. No need for thanks. Seeing justice prevail is something we all hope for, Dumbledore replied, waving their gratitude aside. Then, his expression shifted to one of curiosity. But, after all that, might I ask a question to satisfy my curiosity? He looked intently at the spectral forms of James and Lily. As far as I know, eleven years ago, neither of you lingered as ghosts after your deaths. Why, then, are you appearing in this form now? James and Lily exchanged a glance. To be honest, were not entirely sure what we are now, James admitted candidly. In the afterlife, Lily and I suddenly heard Harrys voice and saw him before usand then, somehow, we were here again. It was a perfect answerbecause it left Dumbledore completely baffled. Harrys call? Dumbledore turned to Harry, his eyes narrowing. Could it be what Mrs. Figg described? That mysterious magical ritual? The one I witnessed a few days agosomething you can summon at will? Harry hesitated briefly before nodding. You could say that, Headmaster. Its a kind of talent I have. After Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley, I read about ghosts in some wizarding books and wondered if I could see my parents. So, I tried calling them.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Harry smiled faintly. The word talent saved him from having to explain too much. Why cant you do it? Why dont you understand? Because you lack talent. Without it, you just wont get it. Perfect. I was born with it! Even Dumbledore seemed taken aback, staring at Harry as though hed just seen a Flobberworm swallow a dragonor Grindelwald performing ballet in Paris Square. Snape opened his mouth to sneer, but at the sight of Lilys spirit, he stopped himself. Barely. I think weve found this years recipient for the Merlin Medal, Snape muttered, his sarcasm barely masking his disbelief. To be fair, Harrys explanation was so absurd it bordered on fantasticaleven for the magical world. Oh, Severus, perhaps we underestimate the wonders young wizards can achieve, Dumbledore said humorously, polishing his glasses. Harry, this magic of yours Can it be used on others? Could you summon the souls of others? This was the real question. Dumbledores gaze was sharp, probing for the truth. Yes, Harry replied simply. As long as theres a blood connection and love and longing, their ancestors will answer the call. Oh not exactly ancestors Dumbledore murmured under his breath. Would you like me to perform the ritual for you, Headmaster? Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. For a long moment, Dumbledore was silent. Finally, he shook his head. Not for now. Then, as if to change the subject, he added, Incidentally, the Ministry summoned me today because of an anomaly in the Death Chamber at the Department of Mysteriesa place where wizards study the mysteries of death. His gaze returned to Harry, heavy with meaning. The disturbance occurred this afternoonshortly after your ritual, I suspect. The implication was clear. I know youre talented, Harryfar beyond your years, Dumbledore said sincerely. But I must ask you to use this power cautiously. Will you? Of course, Harry agreed. If you ever need my help, Headmaster, just let me know. Ill be happy to assist. Dumbledore seemed satisfied, though the question of why he refused Harrys offer lingered. Perhaps it was a matter of privacy, or perhaps something else entirely. As Dumbledore and Snape took their leave, Harry bowed slightly. May the Earth Mother watch over you. Snape, glancing repeatedly at Lilys spirit, walked out reluctantly. Magic was still magic, Harry mused. He would never bind his parents souls to remain with him, knowing they couldnt linger long. Lily, however, wished to speak to her sister, Petunia, before departing. How Petunia would react to seeing her sisters spirit? Well, Harry was already upstairs when that encounter took place. Whatever shrieks or crashes came from downstairs, he paid them no mind. He had more important things to dolike studying. Wizarding textbooks were fascinating. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 15: Dumbledore’s Refusal and Harry Fully Armed (2) Harrys last month at the Dursleys'' was exceptionally enjoyable. He could study magic freely, wield spells to his heart''s content, and indulge himself in the thrill of being a true wizard. This time, even if Jaina jumped up and down mocking him for being nothing more than a borrower of elemental power, Harry could confidently retort, Laugh all you want! Im a wizard too! Wizardry! Thrilling! Magic! Fantastic! Harry also grew accustomed to the wand, a wizards signature tool. To him, it was like the warblades of a demon hunterspecialized equipment that significantly amplified a wizards spellcasting power. It helped regulate and channel magical energy, improving both control and endurance. A purple epic! Ollivanders wand: purple quality, seven Galleons apiece, guaranteed genuine with a tenfold refund for counterfeits, limited supplyhurry while stocks last! The wizarding world was downright extravagant. Before Hogwarts reopened, Harry finally received the equipment he had been waiting for: a warhammer paired with a shield and a set of half-body chainmail. The moment he donned the chainmail, even though some parts were still missing, an invisible sense of security filled his heart. Yes, this was the right feeling! Picking up the warhammer, he gave it a test swingneither too heavy nor too light, just perfect. Goblin craftsmanship truly lived up to its reputation, and the size suited Harrys current age. Of course, hed need to commission a new one as he grew older. Whew, my work here is done. Time to settle the bill, Copperring said, wiping nonexistent sweat off his forehead. Honestly, its a good thing this was your order and just a toy; otherwise, wed have landed in big trouble. What do you mean? Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at Copperring. Ive read your history. Goblins are only forbidden from using wands, right? Technically, magical weaponsespecially enchanted armorare also off-limits, Copperring replied with a dismissive wave. The Ministry got wind of something and came sniffing around. Luckily, what we made for you isnt in violation. Even a Muggle blacksmith could craft this. I see, Harry nodded. That makes sense. Armor is indeed more critical. After all, once someone donned magical armor, many spells would struggle to harm them. That wouldnt bode well for wizards trying to control goblins, who had previously staged multiple rebellions.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Harry had already noticed that wizards in this world were generally quite frail physically. Oh, youve no idea what we goblins endure, Copperring grumbled. I doyou lost, Harry replied mercilessly. Heres your payment. Ha, fair enough. We lost but at least were getting paid, Copperring muttered under his breath. Stop complaining, Copperring, Harry said as he turned to leave. Among goblins, at least youre one with a good reputation. That counts for something. Whats the use of a good reputation? Copperring yawned. At the Gringotts annual meeting, I cant even get a seat at the table. Most days, Im just stuck guarding the door to make a living. Your time will come, Harry said earnestly. I have an ideathough its not something I can act on right now. But when the time comes, if youre willing to trust me, you might just get a shot at striking it rich. Then maybe youll earn that seat at the table. Are you serious? Copperring paused, scrutinizing the famous wizard before him. Harry, clad in matte-finished chainmail, had his warhammer strapped to his side and a shield slung over his back. He was now wrapping himself in a cloak to avoid drawing too much attention. Of course. Im Harry Potter, he said, leaning into his notoriety. Well then, big shot, Copperring extended his hand after a moment of thought, recalling the newspaper articles about this boy. Ill wait. Goblins live long enough, after all. The friendship of a Tauren will not disappoint you, Harry said, shaking the goblins hand. Yeah, a Tauren, Copperring muttered, eyeing the small horns protruding naturally from either side of Harrys forehead. Compared to other children his age, Harrys greatest strengths were his patience and a level of understanding far beyond his years. At eleven, few kids could sit still and work through dense, text-heavy books with no illustrations. After thoroughly reading Hogwarts: A History, A History of Modern Magic, Significant Magical Events of the Twentieth Century, and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Harry had a rough grasp of the wizarding worlds history and current state. He also understood what had happened eleven years ago and why he was so famous and well-liked. Studying history makes one wisethough, unfortunately, humanitys greatest lesson from history seemed to be that humans never learn from history. At least Harry now knew what topics were taboo among wizards. Ignoring the peculiar looks others gave him, Harry dragged his luggage to Kings Cross Station, searching for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters as Hagrid had instructed. There were platforms nine and ten, but no sign of nine and three-quarters. Was this another of the wizarding worlds little jokes? Harry began examining the walls, thinking of how the brick wall at the Leaky Cauldron led to Diagon Alley. Excuse me? A tired voice suddenly spoke from behind him. Could you hurry onto the platform? Keeping Muggles from noticing anything unusual here is exhaustingand you, of all people, are particularly conspicuous! Whats with those horns? The voice turned to a frustrated growl by the end. Turning around, Harry saw a witch glaring at him, wand in hand. A Ministry official? Harry asked curiously. Obviouslythough Im only an intern, the witch said with a proud toss of her hair before clenching her teeth again. I dont want to get fired over something as trivial as helping first-years board unnoticed. So could you kindly move those legs of yours and step onto the platform? As she spoke, her hair shifted from black to fiery red, then deepened to a dusky crimson. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 16: The Weasley Twins and the Entertaining Hermione (1) "Fascinated, are you? Did you come alone? Where are your parents?" Noticing Harry''s gaze, the witch raised an eyebrow. "I''m a Metamorphmagus; I can change my appearance at will. Youwaitare you Harry Potter?" The witch suddenly leaned closer, her eyes catching the lightning-shaped scar peeking out from beneath Harry''s messy hair. "Wait? Did I hear that wrong?" "Or perhaps I heard it wrong?" "That name?" "That boy?" "So familiar?" "So well-known?" "Harry Potter?" The final name was exclaimed simultaneously by two voices, while the earlier lines alternated like a theatrical performance. Harry then saw two red-haired boys pop out from either side of him. "Oh, Fred, George, its you." The witch sighed heavily, as though she''d stumbled upon a major headache. "Hey! Tonks, you can''t say that," protested one red-haired boy, while his twin added, "Yeah, as an upperclassman graduating this year, why not show a little more love for your juniors?" "Exactly, exactly. By the way, will you be attending the feast?" Fred asked curiously. "Of course," Tonks tossed her red hair dramatically. "This is my last start-of-term feast at Hogwarts. Even Moody wouldnt be cruel enough to make me miss this special occasion." "Oh, an Auror," George said, awestruck. "A celebrity from Hufflepuff, with the advantage of being a Metamorphmagus. Ive heard other seventh years are stressing about finding jobs." "Im not an Auror yet," Tonks sighed. "Ive just been assigned to the Auror Office as part of my course training. Only with outstanding performance will I qualify for training. But Im always clumsyugh, never mind. You lot should hurry inside." "And dont forget to bring in our bull boy!" Tonks practically spat out the words, her eyes glued to Harrys horns rather than his scar after the initial glance. As if they were old friends, the red-haired twins cheerfully draped their arms around Harrys shoulders, ushering him toward the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten. "...I didnt let you down with a terrified expression, did I?" Harry raised an eyebrow at the twins after theyd passed through the barrier and noted their expectant expressions. Such childish intentions were all too obvious.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. "Of course not," one of the red-haired boys said, introducing himself. "Im Fred. Thats George. Were the Weasley twinspleased to meet you." "Harry Potter, a Tauren," Harry replied, extending his hand. "Youve probably recognized my name before I even had the chance." "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" The twins burst out laughing. "Harry, youre hilarious! I have a feeling" "This year, our prank business is going to enter a new era and reach unprecedented heights." Harry found the twins amusing, too. They had a peculiar habit of finishing each other''s sentences with uncanny accuracy, as if their minds were perfectly in sync. Perhaps they really were. "Fred, look at this creativity!" Georges eyes practically sparkled as he exclaimed, "Such an original idea" "A Tauren!" Fred clenched his fists in excitement. "A magical creature unheard of in the wizarding world! What an astounding concept!" It seemed the twins had taken Harrys self-description as a childs imaginative whimsy. Harry, however, had no interest in clarifying. "Even more impressive, youve brought it to life on your own head! Such courage and genius! Youll definitely be a Gryffindor, Harry!" "Exactly!" George leaned in to study Harrys horns up close. "Transfiguration on the human body? No, waitthis looks more like you transformed objects and attached them to yourself? Either way, your Transfiguration skills alone could earn you thirty points from Professor McGonagalland you havent even started school yet!" "Why thirty points? Id say fiftyonce school starts, of course," Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Though theres also a chance youll lose fifty points for dangerous self-Transfiguration" "Gryffindor, minus fifty points!" George suddenly mimicked an elderly voice, adopting a stern expression. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" The twins dissolved into laughter, which, in turn, made Harry chuckle. Though he hadnt yet met Professor McGonagall, he could tell the twins were parodying someone familiar. "Come on, Harry, let us help you with your luggage," Fred said, patting Harrys shoulder. "Even for a Tauren, this stuffs heavy." "Hey, Fred, watch your words," George said in mock seriousness. "Never underestimate the strength of a Tauren!" "True, dont underestimate a Taurens strength," Harry agreed. To their astonishment, he lifted his trunk with ease and climbed aboard the train. Never underestimate the wisdom of a shaman! After months of herbal baths, ample nutrition, and regular exercise, Harrys body had transformed like an inflating balloonnot into a puff pastry, but into someone visibly stronger and more solid. His shoulders were broader, and he carried a noticeable layer of muscle. "Well, alright," Fred shrugged as he followed Harry onto the train. "From here, Harry, all you need to do is find a compartment you like and enjoy the ride to Hogwarts." "Exactly. If it were next year, we might invite you to our compartment to spend the journey together. But not this year," George said, wagging a finger. "Not this year," Fred echoed. "We cant disrupt the magical experience of a first-years train ride, complete with scenic views and the chance to meet new friends." "Indeed, those friendships will be your greatest treasures for the next seven years." The twins made a graceful exit after helping Harry find an empty compartment. They didnt fawn over his fame or treat him any differentlyjust a promising junior, a fellow kindred spirit. Harry appreciated that. Their straightforward personalities made them easy to get along with. Though they appeared to thrive on mischief, they had a genuine maturity beneath the surface. ...Not that Harry particularly needed friends his age or companions to get along with. The Bull only needed to stay true to himself. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 17: The Weasley Twins and the Entertaining Hermione (2) After putting away his luggage, Harry pulled out a book, intending to pass the dull hours ahead. But for now, he wasnt reading; instead, his gaze was fixed on the train window. He watched parents on the platform bidding their children farewell, their expressions ranging from teary to cheerful. Among the crowd, Harry noticed the platinum-haired boy he''d met at Madam Malkins Robes for All Occasionsthe one who had tried persistently to talk to him but was thoroughly ignored. The boys father was there too, looking stern, while his mother lavished the boy with hugs and kisses, leaving his face shiny with affection. Harrys attention then shifted to a cluster of red-haired people. Among them were the Weasley twins, unmistakable with their identical grins, presumably surrounded by their family. Quite lively, Harry thought, noting the cheerful energy they radiated. As he adjusted to the invisible tension of being surrounded by so many people, a sudden knock at the compartment door drew his attention. Come in, Harry called, turning his head. At the door stood a girl with bushy brown hair, struggling to drag her luggage. Is there an empty seat here? she asked, slightly breathless. Of course, Harry replied, adhering to the Tauren principle of helpfulness. He stood up and helped her lift her luggage onto the rack with ease. Youre reading a book? Whats it about? she asked, sitting down. Her words tumbled out in a rapid stream, flowing like a torrent. I love reading too! Ive read so many books, but Im not sure how much theyll help at Hogwarts blah blah blah, abracadabra, bibbidi-bobbidi-boo Harry blinked. To him, the latter part of her chatter dissolved into buzzing noiseswords that barely registered in his mind. Sure, he could hear her, and on some level, he understood each sentence. But the sheer speed and volume of her words overwhelmed him, and his brain automatically tuned her out. Instinct is fascinating, isnt it? Harry wasnt particularly fond of people like this. Back in Azeroth, hed often fallen victim to goblins'' rapid-fire sales pitches, which inevitably ended with him purchasing items he didnt needlike soap that created massive bubbles but couldnt clean clothes properly.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Damn goblins. Tauren dont like them. Hey! Hey! Are you listening? Harry snapped back to reality to find the girl glaring at him, her face red and one hand waving furiously in front of his eyes. Sorry, you were talking too fast and too much. I didnt catch it, Harry admitted honestly. As a Tauren, honesty was a principle he upheld. He never liednot even white lies. When lying was unavoidable, Harry chose silence. That was exactly how hed handled Dumbledore earlier. Harry didnt lie; he simply said nothing or shared only what could be said. The girls glare intensified, her face nearly ablaze. I! Was! Saying! she ground out, spitting each word through gritted teeth. What are you reading? And why do you have horns? Ive read The Comprehensive Guide to Magical Creatures, and theres no mention of people with horns! You look like a wizard, so why Stop! Harry raised a hand. Thats enough. Generally, if a sentence exceeds three parts, I cant follow the rest. The girls anger flared higher. Harry calmly raised his book as if it were a shield. From behind it, he said, As you can see, Im a Tauren. Youre not prejudiced against other races, are you? Iof course not! she sputtered, trying to contain her frustration. Her eyes flickered toward the books title: Unveiling the Fog of the Future. But are you really a Tauren? Theres no mention of your kind in any books. Just because you havent seen it doesnt mean it doesnt exist, Harry said firmly. Fine, fine. Im sorry, she mumbled, though her curiosity clearly remained. Ive seen that book in a shop before. Its supposed to be a Divination textbook at Hogwarts, but the clerk said it was for third years, and first years wouldnt need it. Even when I tried to read it, I couldnt make sense of it. Can you really understand it? Youre going past three lines again. Mind your own business! Harrys well-meaning reminder earned him a sharp rebuke. He sighed, oddly entertained by her energy. Honestly, I just wanted to get a sense of what Hogwarts Divination class is like, Harry explained, deciding to steer the conversation away from her outburst. So, you really can understand it? she asked, her skepticism clear as her brow furrowed. This book has its useful parts, Harry admitted, closing it with a sigh. But most of it... falls somewhere between useful and completely useless. I didnt expect wizarding Divination to be this bad. How can they use something like this to teach students? ...It sounds like you already know Divination, she muttered, unable to resist a jab. That is the professors chosen textbook, after all. Of course, Harry replied, raising an eyebrow. Is there a problem? If Divination doesnt allow you to actually foresee the future and make decisions based on it, then its just a scam. In the Horde, fake prophets like that would get speared. From what Ive read so far, most of it is about teaching you how to fool yourselfhow to take real-world facts, find vaguely similar symbols or situations, and spin a narrative. Thats just wrong. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 18: Harrys Divination and Hermiones Outburst (1) "I''m a professional shaman and seerwould I lie to you?" A professional seer must dare to make judgments. "Hah," the young girl scoffed dismissively. "Then why aren''t you a professor? If the things in the books aren''t correct, why are they recognized by so many in the magical world and even used as school textbooks?" "That''s because the most important aspect of divination is talent, and the vast majority of people simply don''t possess that talentyet they desperately long to foresee the future." Even faced with such skepticism, Harry remained calm and explained evenly, "So they try their best to imitate it." "To put it bluntly, and perhaps harshly, magic is a path that requires innate talent to truly excel. And in the field of divination, talent is even more crucial than effortthis is not a discipline where experience or rote memorization will lead to success." "People pursue prophecy and divination to avoid bad things happening to them," Harry continued, "and if someone claiming to be a seer cannot help with that, then theyre a fraud. Just remember that." "Hah, who knows if you''re telling the truth or not," the girl retorted. While her reasoning was starting to align with Harry''s explanation, her tone remained unconvinced. "If Hogwarts offers it as a class, there must be a good reason." "Want to give it a try?" Harry asked abruptly. "A try at what?" The girl blinked in confusion, caught off guard. Knock, knock, knock. Someone rapped on the compartment door. "Uh, I heard theres an empty seat here, so uh, is there still space?" A red-haired boy stood nervously at the door, carrying his luggage. Something about the atmosphere in the compartment made him instinctively uneasy. Swallowing hard, the boy regretted listening to his unreliable twin brothers'' advice. "Of course," Harry nodded. "Theres room. Come inby the way, Fred and George, what are they to you?" Through the glass window earlier, Harry had noticed this boy among a group of red-haired people. As soon as he entered, the boy''s eyes were fixed on Harry''s two horns but he refrained from asking anything. "Uh, theyre my brothers," the red-haired boy said, setting down his luggage and taking a seat. "Do you know them well?" "Just met them. They helped me get onto the platform; otherwise, Id probably still be outside." "Oh, well, for once, theyve done something good. Thats rare," the boy muttered before extending his hand. "Im Ron Weasley. And you are?" As Ron reached out, Harry belatedly realized he had spent so long teasing the girl that he still didnt know her name.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Harry Potter." "Hermione Granger." A moment of silence filled the compartment. Then, simultaneously, two voices rang out in shock. "Harry Potter?!!!" "Fred and George never mentioned this!" Harry sighed. He knew this would happen. "Are you really Harry Potter?!" Ron''s face had turned nearly as red as his hair. He stared at Harry, or more specifically, at the scar on his forehead with wide eyes. "Thatthat" "Yes, calm down, will you?" Harry brushed his bangs aside, letting them see the scar clearly. "No need to get so worked up. Im not that different from you." "Oh, mate, you have no idea how famous you are in the wizarding world," Ron babbled. "Weve all grown up hearing your story. And honestly, youve been in The Daily Prophet every day this month." "Dad said they even wanted to interview you, but Dumbledore stopped them." "Theyre overreacting," Harry said flatly. "Is the magical world so uneventful that the smallest news becomes a big deal?" "Sort of, yeah. But I think theyre right this time," Ron said, scratching his head. "Especially that photo of you from last monthGinny even cut it out and put it in her room. Oh, Ginnys my sister. Shes a huge fan of yours." Ron gestured animatedly with his hands. "Anyway, that big stone golem, that was amazing. Dad said most adult wizards couldnt pull that off. How did you do it?" Harry struggled to keep a straight face. What? Someone took a photo that day and published it? How did I not notice? He vaguely recalled Hagrid mentioning a newspaper hed show Harry when they reached Hogwarts. Be wary of Hagrid, Harry thought. Across from him, Hermiones expression darkened visibly with every passing moment. "Youyoure really Harry Potter?" Hermiones voice carried an inexplicable quaver, almost as if she were about to cry. "Then everything you just saidis it true?" Hermione was clearly nervous. Or perhaps, ever since she learned about the existence of the wizarding world a month ago, she had been perpetually on edge. With a naturally competitive and stubborn personality, Hermione had approached the magical world with excitement and curiositybut also an acute sense of urgency. Coming from a Muggle family, she feared falling behind other students and being ridiculed for it. During the month before term started, she had devoured books, practiced spells, and memorized texts furiously, all to ensure she wouldnt be mocked or left behind. So, when she boarded the train, leaving her parents behind, and entered this compartment, she was already tense. Seeing a boy her age engrossed in a thick booka third-year textbook she had tried and failed to understandonly heightened her unease. For both wizards and Muggles, the ability to foresee the future is an alluring concept. But Harry had just dismissed Hogwarts divination textbook as incorrect, igniting Hermiones sense of indignation. "Whats going on?" Ron asked, confused. "Divination!" Hermione exclaimed. "He just said Hogwarts divination textbooks are wrong and that magical talent is the most important thing!" "Oh, is that all?" Unlike Hermiones agitation, Rons reaction was surprisingly calm. "If anyone else said that, I might not believe them, but hes Harry Potter." "If you grew up in the magical world, youd know most wizards believe Harry Potter was born with immense magical power. Otherwise, he couldnt have defeated You-Know-Who as a baby." Ron glanced cautiously at Harry, lowering his voice. "Then theres the group who believe Harrys actually a natural-born Dark Wizard, even more powerful than You-Know-Who. They think hes destined touh, take over the wizarding world or something." Harry couldnt help ithe burst out laughing. Seriously? These wizards are way too superstitious. Or maybe the existence of magic itself makes them obsess over destiny and Chosen One nonsense. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 19: Harrys Divination and Hermiones Outburst (2) "How is that possible?!" Hermione said, a bit exasperated. "How could a newborn child possiHarry, is that even possible for you?" Her tone suddenly shifted, and the young girl cautiously looked at Harry, doubt creeping into her expression. Harry: "..." "Impossible," he said firmly, shaking his head. "The only reason I survived eleven years ago was because of the magical protection my parents gave me. Dont overthink it." No one knew better than Harry how pitifully powerless he had once beenhardly the image of a naturally gifted wizard. "I knew it," Hermione sighed in relief. "Talent is important, sure, but hard work is just as crucial!" "Oh, really?" Ron, ever the instigator, responded with a smirk that could drive anyone mad. "Then why has there only ever been one Dumbledore? Every other wizard pales in comparison, even You-Know-Who couldnt match him." Strong argument. "Alright, alright, enough of that," Harry interjected quickly, noticing the two about to start bickering. "So, Hermione, do you want to give it a try?" Harry had already noticed an interesting trait in the young girlbefore knowing his name, she hadnt believed a word he said. But the moment she learned he was Harry Potter, the famous figure of the wizarding world, she started to waver. A child who deeply respected authority. "Try... you mean divination?!" Hermiones eyes widened in shock. "You can do that?!" "Technically, its scrying. And yes, I can," Harry nodded. "Remember what I said earlier? If someone cant predict the future and provide actionable guidance, theyre a fraud. Testing this is quite simple." "I didnt know you had the gift of prophecy, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, growing excited. "Can you scry something for me?!" At this point, Harry realized that Rons enthusiasm was unshakable. If Harry claimed he was more powerful than Dumbledore, Ron would probably only hesitate for a momentwondering not if an eleven-year-old could truly be so strong, but who between Harry and Dumbledore might be stronger. Hero worship can be a dangerous thing, Harry thought with a sigh, retrieving a simple divination set from the small package Hagrid had given him. A small wooden bowl, a larger stone bowl, and a handful of herbs. That was it.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "...Thats it?" Hermiones expression was practically screaming doubt. "Of course. Only those shamans who lack real skill rely on elaborate rituals to seem credible. If you truly have a gift for divination, much of the pomp and ceremony is unnecessary," Harry said casually, placing the herbs into the smaller bowl. Hermione and Ron were too stunned to respond, for as soon as the herbs touched the bowl, they ignited. The fire wasnt orange-red but a fine edge of flames tracing along the leaves, glowing a soft blue-green. Thin, wispy smoke began to rise, but it didnt behave naturally. Defying the laws of physics, the smoke coiled and swirled upward, forming a distinct pillar that floated toward Hermione. It brushed past her ear, slipped through her hair, then poured into the stone bowl like a stream, rippling as if it had a life of its own. Harry murmured a series of incantations under his breathwords that no one could understand, spoken in the language of the Tauren shamans hed learned in Azeroth. When the last of the smoke flowed into the stone bowl, it settled, looking no different from a bowl of water. Hermione and Ron, holding their breath, stared at the bowl intently. The once-dense smoke had condensed into liquid, filling the bottom of the bowl and steadily accumulating until it was about half full. Finally, the residual smoke dissipated, curling around the bowls edges. What remained in the center was a glowing, pale blue liquid that shimmered faintly. "Its ready," Harry said softly. "Treat your destiny with care, child." This divination magic, perfected during his time in Azeroth with Jainas guidance, was a blend of his unique talents and research. It was the very skill that had earned him the title of Shaman Prophet among the Tauren. For Harry, the act of guiding someones destiny was something he hadnt done in a long timelong enough to forget that he was technically still a child himself. But for Hermione and Ron, such thoughts were irrelevant. In the glowing water at the center of the bowl, an image began to ripple and take shapeit was Hermione, sitting on a toilet, sobbing uncontrollably. Her wizards robe was askew, and though she clutched her wand, she looked utterly miserable. "Thats not me!!!" Hermione shrieked instinctively, her face flushed a deep red. She slapped the surface of the water, scattering the smoke and liquid in an instant. But none of that mattered anymore. Like an enraged lioness, Hermione leapt to her feet, one hand still pressed against the bowl as she glared furiously at the two witnesses to her supposed "future." "What kind of magic is this?! Its utterly wicked!" Hermione protested indignantly. "This is the divination you asked for. You simply saw a moment of your future. Theres nothing wicked about it," Harry said, refusing to accept her accusations. "Thats not me!" Hermiones voice rose, more flustered than ever. "I think its you... right?" Ron scratched his head. "But look, the emblem on your robeits Gryffindor! Does this mean youll be sorted into Gryffindor tonight?" "Its an illusion! A hallucination! Its not real!" Hermione snapped, nearly shouting. "I wontcry!" She forced the word out, brimming with indignation. "Really? But if its predicting the future, well know for sure tonight when youre sorted into Gryffindor, right?" Ron said, a rare moment of insight flashing through his otherwise scatterbrained thoughts. Hermione was at a loss for words. She sat back down with a huff, her face red and her posture stiff, looking every bit as puffed up as an offended cat. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 20: Harry Potter Defends Gryffindor Hermione had always held Gryffindor close to her heart. It was the house of Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the 20th centuryso her books declared. And now, Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts. To Hermione, Gryffindor was unquestionably the best house, no debate needed. The mere thought of being sorted into her dream house filled her with joy. But an intrusive memory of herself crying by the water crept into her mind, casting a shadow over her excitement. She hoped that particular vision would prove false. And so, she sulked. How embarrassing. Oh, Harry! I knew it! They were right when they said youre not just an ordinary wizard! Ron exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement after witnessing Harrys divination. Can you predict something for me, too? Its divination, not fortune-telling. And Im no different from any other wizard. Calm down, Harry replied, trying to rein in Rons enthusiasm. His words, however, seemed to have little effect. As Harry lit the incense again, its unique fragrance transformed into blue smoke, which drifted lazily past Ron before settling over the stone basin. The water inside rippled as the smoke swirled above it. Rons figure materialized in the watery surface. Even Hermione, despite her earlier sulking, was drawn closer by sheer curiosity. What incredible magic! In the vision, Ron... well, he didnt look great. Leaning against a wall, he appeared nervous and dejected, as if being reprimanded by someone. The eerie, green-tinged surroundings only heightened the unsettling atmosphere. Ha! You got detention from a professor! Hermione exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her own concerns. ...Dont worry, Harry reassured a visibly shaken Ron. Divination isnt set in stone. People seek it to avoid the worst outcomes, after all. Oh I just hope the professor doesnt write home to Mum, Ron groaned, rubbing his temples in despair. Meanwhile, Harrys mind wandered. Both divinationsHermiones and Ronshad revealed events seemingly close in time. Their appearances hadnt changed significantly in the visions, suggesting the magic was limited to glimpses of the near future. But Harry had aimed for something different. He wanted to divine their distant futures, hoping to show them their grown-up selves. The results puzzled him. Could it be a side effect of this different world? Harry mused silently. Ill need to refine the magical construct. Harry? Harry! Hermiones voice snapped him back to reality. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. Can I learn your divination magic? she asked eagerly, her enthusiasm spilling over. You can, but also cant, Harry replied thoughtfully. He decided honesty was the best course. The first can means youre capable of learning the magic. The second cant means you probably wont become a Seer capable of perceiving far-off futures. Why? Hermiones voice wavered, her excitement giving way to disbelief. Because you lack the talent, Harry said bluntly. As I mentioned earlier, being a Seer depends more on innate ability than effort. During the earlier divination, Harry had assessed Hermiones sensitivity to spiritual energy. The verdict? She had some, but not much. As for Ron? He was firmly in the cant perceive a thing category. It was a harsh reality. Hermione looked utterly crushed. Did Harry realize how devastating his words were to someone like hera Muggle-born filled with wonder about magic and eager to prove herself? For Hermione, who had silently vowed to excel in the wizarding world, those four wordsyou lack the talentfelt like a punch to the gut. Ron, surprisingly, took it in stride. Oh, dont be silly, Hermione, he said, pulling out a sandwich his mum had packed. True Seers are as rare as dragon eggs. The ones who can see the future at will only pop up every few centuries. No point getting upset over it. Im not upset! Hermione snapped, though her watery eyes betrayed her. Uh its not that you have no talent, Harry interjected, trying to soften the blow. As a kind-hearted person, he hated making anyone cry. With enough effort, you could still reach a basic level of divination, though your visions might be unclear and limited. Most people, even with training, can only glimpse fragmentsbrief flashes of what might happen in the next day or two, maybe a couple of weeks. The images are usually disjointed and lack context. Theyre lucky if they can tell whether something is good or bad.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. And many others, Harry continued, can only develop vague intuitionsgut feelings about outcomesor nothing at all. It was the truth. Not everyone was destined to become a Seer. ...Really? Hermione asked tentatively. I can still learn? If sheer effort could elevate her above the average wizard, she decided she could live with that. Of course, Harry confirmed. For those with even a little talent, Im happy to teach them the shamanic path. Part of Harrys willingness to demonstrate his unique magic was tied to a greater goal: identifying like-minded individuals who might join the organization he envisioned. Starting from scratch was possible, but allies would make the journey much smoother. After all, reviving the elemental power of an entire world was not something Harry couldor shouldundertake alone. Planting the seeds of shamanism in this world was a worthy pursuit. Children You talk like youre much older than us, Hermione muttered, discreetly wiping her eyes. And why shamanism? Arent we wizards? Of course we are, Harry replied warmly. But Im not just a wizard. Im also a shaman. If youre interested, I can explain more over time. Why not now? Ron asked. Because someones coming, Harry answered. As if on cue, a knock sounded at the compartment door. Ron opened it to find a boy standing there, his tear-streaked face full of confusion. His chubby cheeks gave him an endearing, innocent look. Have you seen my toad? What? Hermione didnt understand. A toad, a wizards pet, Ron explained helpfully, adding, Shouldnt it be with you? Wizard pets usually dont wander off. Theyre quite smart. Oh, Merlin, I cant find it anywhere, the boy looked like he was on the verge of tears. Trevor, my Trevor. Alright, I get it. Dont cry just yet. Hermione took a deep breath and stood up. Ill help you find this... Trevor. Do you two want to come along? Why not? Harry closed his book and stood up. Not like weve got anything better to do. Ron was happy to join as well. Harry admired Hermiones initiativekindness like hers deserved encouragement. He was beginning to think hed made the right choice in befriending these two. Thank you! Thank you so much! My names Neville! Neville Longbottom! The round-faced boy introduced himself excitedly. What followed was a round of polite introductions and, much to Harrys exasperation, the inevitable Oh my gosh, youre Harry Potter!an expression that, in his opinion, was far more annoying than going door-to-door asking about a missing toad. Something funny? Harry raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the compartment they had just opened. It was filled with an overwhelming amount of silver and green, the snake motif everywherea clear nod to Slytherin House. According to the books Harry had read, they were notoriously proud of their emblem. This compartment was noticeably more extravagant than others. The interior had been magically expanded, and the table was laden with lavish snacks and drinks. Clearly, no expense was spared here. The occupants varied in age; alongside a few first-years, there were students from other years chatting and laughing. But the moment Hermione knocked and asked about Nevilles toad, the laughter stopped. The students exchanged glances, then burst into mocking, malicious laughtera sound dripping with ridicule and hostility. Harry instinctively stepped forward, shielding Hermione behind him. Calmly, he asked, Whats so funny? No one cares about a toad, you filthy little Mudblood. Now get out of our compartment! sneered a freckled boy, baring his teeth at Hermione, though Harrys presence blocked him. Another round of laughter erupted. Hey! You cant just say that! Ron, furious, made to charge forward, but Harry stopped him. Really, mate? With those skinny arms? Who are you going to beat? Still, Harry had to commend Rons courage. Apologize, Harrys sharp gaze swept across the compartment. His voice was cold and commanding. Or youll regret it. Harry recognized the slur from his readings: Mudbloodthe most vile insult pureblood wizards used for Muggle-borns. His hand hovered over the war hammer strapped to his waist but paused. No need to use that on a bunch of brats. Apologize?! A boy in Slytherin robes laughed derisively, the crest of his house prominently displayed on his chest. And what will you do if we dont? Who do you think you are? Right! And isnt that the Weasley disgrace? chimed in a blond boy Harry recognized from earlier. Draco Malfoy sneered, My father was rightred hair, freckles, and so poor they cant afford anything. HAHAHAHA! The laughter escalated. If not for Harrys grip, Ron would have lunged by now. Wait a second, someone suddenly said, his gaze shifting curiously to Harry. Look at himon his forehead... that scar! Harry Potter?! Apologize, Harry repeated, cutting off the inevitable hysteria of recognition. His stance was steady, and he was prepared for a fight. Pfft. A boy snorted dismissively. This is our so-called savior? This is all he is? Youso that dayyou ignored me on purpose!? Malfoys face turned red with rage. How dare you ignore a Malfoy! Thats right, Harry replied evenly. You were noisy, and I didnt like anything you said. I only compare the lineage of livestock to see which produces more milk or meat. You dare insult the purity of wizarding blood?! Harrys words were like a stone tossed into a pondexcept in this compartment, they ignited a wave of outrage among the Slytherins. Mixing with filthy Mudbloods and flaunting those ridiculous hornswho do you think you are?! Some kind of freak? Good. Words are no longer necessary. The conflict escalated in an instant, catching everyone off guard. And it was Harry who struck first, despite being outnumbered and outsized. Hide, all three of you! Harry roared as he slammed his fist into the face of the boy who had mocked his horns. For the Horde! His punch landed squarely on the boys nose, leaving it bent and bleeding profusely. He hit me! Get him! Get him! Loktar ogar!!! (Victory or death!) The battle cry erupted from Harry with an intensity that stunned everyone nearby. Size and numbers didnt matter; victory was about the fighting spirita spirit Harry had in abundance. Fists flew, and Harrys every punch elicited howls of pain. The sound of his attackers blows striking his body was almost metallic, and the pain reverberating up their arms made their faces turn pale. For the younger Slytherins, their limited knowledge of magic made fists seem more practical, while the older students had better options. But Harry had anticipated this. When a burly upperclassman drew his wand, Harry wasted no time. From his waist, he drew the war hammer and roared, HAMMER THROW! ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 21: Blood Sacrifice of Glory, Skull Offering for Harry Under no circumstances could Harry allow senior students to use magic. If they did, he would be forced to defend himself using magica skill he had yet to fully master in this world. Resorting to the magic of Azeroth, however, seemed excessive. Even defensive spells carried immense destructive power. The memory of Uncle Vernon''s house being obliterated by an Earth Shield was still fresh in Harry''s mind. And now, they were aboard a speeding train. Magic in Azeroth was primarily honed for war, a stark contrast to the subtler spells of the wizarding world. Thus, Harry decided that against these senior Slytherins, it was better to rely on his trusty warhammer. As long as he refrained from enchanting it with Fire Tongue or Windfury, it would remain within acceptable safety limits. Yes, absolutely within safety limitsHarry was certain of that as he watched the arm of a senior Slytherin boy holding a wand twist unnaturally. The boy''s face contorted in pain as he doubled over. Exiting the battle early seemed like a wise choice for him. Flint!! A girl''s scream pierced the air, but instead of quelling the fight, it seemed to heighten the fervor. Despite Hagrids earlier warnings about Slytherins being selfish, cunning, and despicable, Harry couldnt help but admire their unity at this moment. They were, at the very least, united in their hostility toward him. With that in mindShield Toss! This time, Harry wasnt aiming to break another arm. Retrieving his shield from his back, he hurled it toward the senior Slytherin girl who had raised her wand at him. He had no idea what spell she might castif it were dark magic, it could be disastrous. With a loud clang, the girl crumpled to the floor. Get him! Hes just one person! A first-year!! Shouts and cries echoed around the carriage, turning the scene into utter chaos. When curious onlookers from neighboring compartments came to investigate, the commotion only grew. Though Harry had told Ron, Hermione, and Neville to stay out of the fight, none of them listened. Ron and Neville immediately tackled Malfoy and his two lackeys. Hermione, true to her nature, initially tried to mediateuntil a Slytherin first-year girl punched her square in the face. That was when Hermione decided to join the fray. For young witches and wizards who had yet to master any substantial magic, their primary method of combat was, unsurprisingly, brute force. When students from adjacent compartments arrived, they found the carriage packed with bodies, all tangled in an incomprehensible brawl. Ron?! What the bloody hell?! Fred and George Weasley stood in stunned disbelief, watching their usually reserved younger brother in the thick of a fight on his very first day of school. Their shock quickly turned to pride. Their little brother, taking on Slytherins on day one? That was the epitome of Gryffindor spirit! Lets join the fun! Any friend of Gryffindor, unite! With loud cheers, Fred and George led a group of upper-year Gryffindors into the fray. Meanwhile, Slytherins from other carriages joined the battle as well. For Gryffindor! The rallying cry followed Harrys war shout. For Slytherin! Not to be outdone, the opposing house roared back. For Harry Potter!!! Ah, that one belonged to the lunatics. Words alone couldnt capture the sheer chaos of the carriage. From the magically expanded compartments to the narrow corridors of the train, students rolled and tumbled in a massive brawl. In another world, this scene might have been described as an all-out melee. While some fought, others watched from the sidelines, and a few brave souls tried to break up the chaoslike Tonks. As a seventh-year Auror trainee, Tonks had accompanied the train to Hogwarts as a security measure after helping maintain order on the platform. Logically, Tonks should have been the perfect person to stop this madness. Unfortunately, she couldnt even get close to the center of the fight. The sheer density of students wrestling on the ground left her stranded at the edges, shouting futilely while waving her wand.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Her hair changed colors so rapidly in her frustration that she resembled a traffic light, almost as if she were cheering for the fight instead of trying to stop it. Eventually, Tonks slumped to the floor in despair, realizing she was bound to face reprimands from both her professors and superiors. For a final year at Hogwarts, this was certainly an... explosive start. -- The start-of-term feast was a significant event for the Hogwarts staff every year, especially for welcoming new students. The house-elves in the kitchen prepared every dish with care, Filch meticulously cleaned the castle, and the professors added finishing touches to the decorations. This year, however, was even more specialit marked the arrival of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the legend who had saved the wizarding world eleven years ago. Everything was progressing smoothly, just as it had for decadesexcept in one particular corner of the Great Hall. Unlike the calm and order elsewhere, this corner was... stormy. Nevernever in all my years! First-years leading a brawl on the train? Pulling upper-year students into the fray?! Two entire houses involved, and the rest only uninvolved because they couldnt physically reach the fight! This isthis isutterly outrageous! Professor McGonagall raged, struggling to find the words to describe the situation. Oh, calm yourself, Minerva. Its not as dire as it seems, Dumbledore replied with his usual composure. Hearing the reports from the train seemed to faze him not in the slightest. In fact, he even tried to comfort the seething Deputy Headmistress. It was no wonder Dumbledore remained unruffled. He had weathered far greater storms before. "Calm down? How do you expect me to calm down?" Professor McGonagalls lips were pressed into a line so sharp it could cut steel. "You cant possibly imagine what I saw when I arrived!" "That childhe was standing atop a pile of students sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain. In the entire compartment, he was the only one still standing!" "And he was wearing chainmail! Chainmail stained with blood! Do you have any idea how I felt when I saw him? I nearly fainted on the spot!" "He treats Hogwarts like... like what exactly? Why on earth was he dressed like that?!" "Oh, I suppose young Harry might have indulged in some Muggle-inspired fantasies about Hogwarts," Dumbledore said with a light chuckle. "There''s a certain childlike charm in that, wouldnt you agree, Minerva?" Dumbledore looked like he had more to say, but under McGonagalls withering glare, he wisely chose to stay silent. "I don''t think we need to overreact, Professor McGonagall," Snape interjected, his tone uncharacteristically calmespecially considering his own house was one of the two involved in the brawl. He had been agitated earlier, but a certain piece of information had clearly changed his demeanor. "First, this incident occurred on the train, and term hasnt officially started yet. Technically, its still the holidays, so our authority to punish them is limited," Snape said slowly. "Second, it was merely a student brawlhardly unusual between Gryffindor and Slytherin." "Merely a student brawl," McGonagall echoed, staring at Snape as if hed suddenly sprouted horns. "I never thought Id hear those words coming from you, Professor Snape." "I expected something more along the lines of ''expulsion.''" "I happen to agree with Professor Dumbledorespirited students are a good thing... even if some are a bit too spirited," Snape replied, his tone stiff but his words unmistakably his own. McGonagall briefly considered whether Snape might be under an Imperius Curse. This year was shaping up to be an odd one, after all. But a glance at Dumbledorestill cheerfully munching on his sweetsconvinced her otherwise. The headmaster popped another candy into his mouth with relish. McGonagall inhaled sharply. "Regardless, we need to ensure they understand the severity of their actions! Especially Harry Potter! Merlin help us, I dread to think what kind of trouble hell get into once term starts!" "Of course, I agree completely," Snape nodded. "However, Professor McGonagall, we must remember to prioritize education over punishment in our dealings with students." "As for Harry Potter... well, he does exhibit remarkable leadership qualities, doesnt he?" "...?" McGonagall had heard enough. After giving Snape a long, incredulous look, she stormed out, muttering words like "unbelievable," "madness," and "heavens above" under her breath. "I believe Professor McGonagall would agree that I have a point," Snape remarked smoothly, meeting the gazes of Dumbledore and the other two heads of houses. "Now, if youll excuse me, I have preparations to attend to." With a dramatic swirl of his black robes, Snape exited the hall, leaving Professors Sprout and Flitwick behind. Though neither wanted to admit it, their own houses had students involved in the massive brawl. "...Do you think Professor Snape has... fallen in love?" Flitwick asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "Cough cough cough!" Sprout choked on her tea before bursting into laughter. "Really, Filius?" "Oh, I fear my Potions Master hasnt reached that milestone just yet," Dumbledore said with a hearty laugh. "But I do hope... oh, how I hopehahaha!" The corner of the hall filled with cheerful laughtera sharp contrast to the grim atmosphere awaiting the students. The professors'' jovial mood, of course, wasnt something they displayed to the students. After all, professionalism dictated that fightingespecially large-scale brawlswas completely unacceptable. And at that age, most students were still terrified of their teachers. The massive train brawl had been stopped by none other than Professor McGonagall herself, who had Apparated directly onto the scene after receiving a report from Tonks. It was like Moses parting the Red Seaexcept instead of water, McGonagall had parted a writhing pile of bodies. Faced with the ferocious deputy headmistressthe Lioness of Gryffindor herselfeven the rowdiest students had meekly retreated into corners. After delivering a thorough scolding and promising punishments once term began, McGonagall had stormed off, leaving behind several compartments full of subdued students. The scene inside? Anyone who opened the door would find rows of students bound tightly together, resembling prisoners in a transport cart. Knowing what awaited them at Hogwarts, even the most boisterous students couldnt muster much cheer. Punishments, detentions... But kids are kids, and their despondence didnt last long. Soon enough, the compartments were buzzing with chatter, as students bragged about how many opponents theyd taken down or how theyd managed to pummel their least favorite rivals. Especially in Harrys compartment. Despite still being bound by ropes conjured by McGonagall, the cheers for Harry grew louder and louder. Even without seeing him, students shouted their admiration and praises in his direction. "You really shouldve stayed out of it," Harry said, looking helplessly at Ron and his friends. "There were too many of them, and they were all older and bigger than you." "Dont say that, Harry," Ron replied, his face swollen and his voice muffled. "Were the same age. If you were fighting, how could we just hide? Im Ron Weasley!" ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 22: Professor McGonagall Feels Somethings Amiss and Sees a Bleak Future Weasleys never back down from a Malfoy! The honor of the Weasley name rests squarely on my shoulders! Even though Rons face was swollen like a pigs head, it couldnt hide his exhilaration. This was a rush he had never experienced before, a moment of attention he had never knowneven Fred and George had praised him just now. Many other Gryffindors, ones he didnt even know, had commended his bravery. His bravery! Ron Weasleys bravery! And it had nothing to do with his brothers! The feeling of being in the spotlight and receiving praise was something Ron had never experienced. At home, he was usually the one who got the least attention. But now? Confidence? Ron felt so triumphant that he imagined savoring this memory well into old age. Thats right, Harry, dont say things like that! Neville mumbled through his own injuries. Harry shook his head, unsure of what to say. Still, he had to admithe was rather pleased. These kids were pretty great. Sure, the Gryffindors were known for being calm and kind, but brave Gryffindors didnt shy away from conflict either. Harry knew he could fight because he understood his own strength. But Ron, Neville, and Hermione joining in? That was pure loyalty, a refusal to tolerate injustice. It was because of the slur mudblood. Because Harry made the first move. As the trio who initially engaged, Ron and Neville had taken quite a beating. Double fists couldnt fend off four attackers, and even Hermione hadnt escaped unscathed. Though her injuries were lighter because, as an eleven-year-old girl, some of the attackers had hesitated to go all out. Speaking of Hermione... Were going to be expelled for sure! Expelled on the first day of school! My dream of studying magicgone! Completely gone! Hermione sobbed uncontrollably. This was the same girl who had confidently proclaimed during Divination class that she would never cry. Now she was crying so hard shed completely forgotten her earlier vow. Ive never even been in a fight before! Were doomed! The professors will write to my parents, and theyll come to take me away! Waaaaahhh... Dont worry, Hermione, Ron said, his face still swollen and his words muffled. If your parents are Muggles, they cant exactly come to Hogwarts to get you. Is that the point?! Hermione shrieked. We shouldve been calmer! No matter what, we shouldnt have fought! I really appreciate you all, Hermione sobbed harder. Even though I dont know exactly what mudblood means, I know they were insulting meand you all got dragged into it because of me! Now were all getting expelled! Her tears turned into a torrential downpour. Yes, fighting was indeed wrong, a voice chimed in. Someone bound up in ropes wriggled closer. The speaker was another redhead, looking just as furious. But whats worse is not listening to the prefect! I told everyone to step back, but someone had the audacity to sucker-punch me! Earlier, Ron had introduced this person as one of his brothersPercy Weasley, this years Gryffindor prefect. To be fair, Percy had initially tried to separate the brawling students. But after a punch knocked his glasses off, hed been dragged into the chaos. Truthfully, Percy suspected the first punch had come from a Gryffindorprobably George, or maybe Fred. The scene had been too chaotic to remember clearly. A Gryffindor hitting their prefect? Impossible. But... maybe? This was precisely why Percy now looked so grumpy and indignant. He hadnt found the culprit, had been scolded by Professor McGonagall for failing in his prefect duties, and was now tied up like the rest. Dont worry, kids. We wont be expelled, Percy said, attempting a comforting tone. His bruised face undermined the effect, but he tried. Its just a fight. And with this many students involved, Hogwarts wont expel everyone. Exactly, another Gryffindor chimed in nonchalantly. Last year, when the sixth and seventh years had that brawl in the hallway, it was way worse. Full-on spell dueling! The hospital wing ran out of beds, and Professor McGonagall nearly lost her mind. Hogwarts is this chaotic?! Hermione looked completely dumbfounded. Oh, young lady, the Gryffindor laughed heartily, there are things more important than house points and detentions. Thats rightGryffindors honor! Fredor maybe Georgeshouted excitedly as he wriggled closer. We won this time! Those stupid snakes were beaten to a pulp! If Professor McGonagall hadnt shown up, not one of them wouldve been left standing!This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Exactly, Hermione, dont sweat the small stuff. Lets celebrate! Ron added enthusiastically. You dont even know how filthy that word they used to insult you was. And they were the ones who started itright in front of the professors! Not to mention, they insulted my horns. Thats species discrimination, Harry said, trying to comfort the still-terrified Hermione. You know, right? Discrimination is horrible. Hermione glanced at Harrys horns and decided to say nothing. Exactly! Fredor George, who could tell?shouted again. Those stupid snakes dared to insult our mighty Tauren! Harry, youre a born Gryffindor! The word courage was invented just for you! Youll be the future Lion King! Wait, why not the Tauren Lion King? Tauren Lion King? George, thats brilliant. What a magnificent title. Tauren Lion King! Tauren Lion King! The chant quickly gained momentum. At first, it was just Fred and George shouting. Then the entire box joined in. Soon, the chants echoed across several boxes. The kind of noise that could make Professor McGonagall faint. Ah, youtha time of energy, rebellion, and sheer vitality. As for punishments and detentions... well, that could wait until they got back to school. -- A group of soon-to-be-punished individuals had at least been freed from the ropes binding them when they got off the train. Lets just say Professor McGonagall was extremely reluctant to do this, and considering that first-year students needed to cross the lake by boat to reach the castle, she gave Harry and his group a stern warning not to cause trouble while aboard. Harry didnt take it to heart. It seemed Professor McGonagall regarded him as some show-off brat, but Harry knew he wasnt like that. A Tauren only does what needs to be done, regardless of what others say. Duck! From the front boat, Hagrid shouted the command as the flotilla passed under a bridge. Truth be told, the bridges height only required Hagrid himself to duck. As they emerged from beneath the bridge, Hogwarts suddenly came into full view for all the young wizards. A truly magnificent castle. But that description didnt quite do it justice. It was more accurate to say that the entire lake, the surrounding forest, and this whole region belonged to Hogwartsincluding the wizarding village of Hogsmeade mentioned in the books. Harry found the castle rather charming. Many fairy tales had painted such castles as magical and full of wonder. And, of course, in the realm of adventures, castles often promised treasure. Simply delightful. Legend has it that a thousand years ago, the four founders of the school traveled along this very path and built Hogwarts atop the cliff, Hermione spoke up, momentarily forgetting her tears. Her eyes shone with admiration as she gazed at the castle under the moonlight. ...I read about it in Hogwarts: A History. This is probably part of some enchantment, Harry mused, looking at his hand. Since earlier, Ive felt a sort of invisible magic surrounding us. What do you mean? Ron asked, bewildered. I mean, walking this paththe very route the founders took when they established the schoolis likely a ceremonial magic. My guess is that it serves as a protective ward or curse repellent. After all, this is a school for training young wizards, Harry explained thoughtfully. And isnt there supposed to be a Sorting Ceremony coming up? Oh, right, Ron nodded. But no one will tell me how the Sorting works. Fred says its really painful... terrifying. Neville, any news from your side? No, Neville shook his head nervously. Gran wouldnt tell me anything either. She just said to be careful... Honestly, Im probably going to be the first student ever sent home for failing the Sorting Ceremony. Oh, that wont happen, Neville, Ron reassured him. Dont forget todays achievements. Youre definitely a brave Gryffindor! Rons words seemed to calm Neville significantly. As for Hermione... she was already quietly reviewing her knowledge points. After disembarking the boats, the group followed Hagrid to the castles grand entrance, where Professor McGonagall was waiting. She walked straight up to Harry. Youve done something truly impressive, Mr. Potter, she said, her gaze sharp as a blade. Before you, no first-year student had ever caused such a commotion before even starting school. Frankly, I should break your wand and send you home. Perhaps only then youd learn what caution and obedience mean. Im sorry, Professor! If someone has to be expelled, let it be me! Its all because of me that Hermione broke into tears before Harry could respond, her voice trembling with guilt. The young girl firmly believed the fight had started because someone had insulted her. It wasnt Hermiones fault. They provoked us first, Professor. I dont think we should be punished, Harry replied calmly, unfazed by McGonagalls words. They called Hermione a Mudblood, hurled slurs at me, and mocked my horns. If anyone should be expelled, start with all the Slytherins in that compartment. Otherwise, Ill write to the Daily Prophet and let the wizarding community decide for themselves. Professor McGonagall took a deep breath. This isnt your fault, Miss Granger, she said kindly to Hermione, the quintessential model student. Dont worry, you wont be expelled. What I want to address now is Mr. Potters behavior. She had already heard from Dumbledore about the Boy Who Lived insisting he was a Tauren and had mentally prepared herself. But some things were still hard to endure. Mr. Potter, McGonagall said gravely, I must remind you that human transfiguration is incredibly dangerous. It can lead to irreparable harmespecially for someone like you, with limited knowledge and undeveloped magical reserves. Youre lucky this time. It was a well-intentioned warning. McGonagall could tell that Harrys horns werent the result of transfiguring his body but rather a spell to attach actual bull horns to his forehead. Even so, this was highly advanced for a first-year student. I dont know what you mean, Professor, Harry said sincerely. Taurens naturally have horns. Its completely normal for us. McGonagall closed her eyes. She felt this year would bring her nothing but troublehuge trouble. Difficult students, mysterious disappearances of house points, stress-induced hair loss, and an insatiable craving for tranquility. The House Cup... oh, my House Cup... She had already mentally assigned Harry to Gryffindor. With everything hed done, who would believe he wouldnt end up there? McGonagall kept chanting to herself: Geniuses are eccentric. Geniuses are eccentric... Albus Dumbledores peculiar habits often seemed mad to others. And based on everything so far, the Boy Who Lived was undoubtedly a magical prodigy. She reopened her eyes. Hand over your hammer and shield, Mr. Potter, McGonagall said with great effort. Hogwarts does not permit weapons. Of course, Professor, Harry complied without hesitation. But as McGonagall took two steps forward with the items, she swiftly turned back and shoved them into Harrys arms. Absolutely no pointing weapons at your classmates again! Understood, Mr. Potter? she said furiously. Or I really will expel you! Harry agreed far too quickly. The swiftness of his response made McGonagall uneasy. From her decades of teaching experience, students who repented so fast were often the most incorrigible, the kind who never learned their lessons. The repeat offenders. The troublemakers! ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 23: Snape’s Concern and the Sorting Ceremony The most important point was Harrys exceptional talent in Transfiguration. He could conjure weapons for himself anytime, anywherea skill that rendered confiscation meaningless. Professor McGonagall, frustrated, simply returned the items to Harry, albeit with a sterner warning. "I promise, Professor, unless its absolutely necessary," Harry assured her earnestly, understanding her concerns. Youd better, Professor McGonagall said, giving Harry a long, piercing look. And by the way, dont think youre escaping punishment. Detention has been arranged for you, starting in the third week of term. With those words, she turned to push the door open and re-enter the Great Hall. However, she paused briefly before stepping inside. Impressive Transfiguration. The faint praise reached Harrys ears. With a loud clang, the castle doors shut behind her. "That was amazing, Harry," Ron finally whispered, peeking out from behind Harry after McGonagall left. "I could barely breathe while she was talking, and you just spoke to her so naturally." Shes a good professor, Harry explained to Ron. She has responsibilities to fulfill. After all, student safety is very important, and I understand her concerns. But I also have my own principles and things I need to do, so small conflicts are inevitable. Itll get better over time. Right now, its just that she doesnt know us well, and we dont know her either. If she were too kind, she wouldnt be able to maintain discipline. Harry saw things very clearly. "Hey, youre still just a kid, Harry," Hermione couldnt help but tease. "Consider yourself lucky, Potter," came a cold snort from the first-year crowd before Harry could respond. Harry turned and saw Draco Malfoy glaring at him with hatred. As one of the instigators of the initial conflict, Draco had taken the brunt of the beatings. Ron and Neville, in particular, had targeted him, ignoring their own injuries to land punch after punch. Now, Malfoy was a mess. His eyes were bruised black, his nose looked slightly crooked, and worst of all, someone had yanked out a clump of his hair, leaving him looking almost bald. Any trace of the refined elegance of a noble was utterly gone. Of course, Ron and Neville didnt look much better. Perhaps as a lesson, Professor McGonagall had sent the severely injured students to the hospital wing, while those with minor injurieslike Malfoywere left to endure the feast in their disheveled state. At eleven, appearances mattered deeply. This feud had only deepened. Youll pay for this, Potter! Draco spat venomously. Even if Professor McGonagall doesnt expel you, my father will! Hes a school governor! Youll be back with your Muggle relatives, playing house-elf! The childish threat, laced with misplaced confidence, nearly made Harry laugh. But Ron and Neville didnt find it amusing. What did you say, Malfoy? Say that again if you dare! Ron shouted. Draco immediately shrank behind his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who stepped forward as if ready to fight. Unfortunately for them, when Harry stepped closer, all three instinctively backed away. On the train, Harry had been the last one standing in the brawl, his clothes splattered with his opponents blooda scene that had left an indelible mark on Malfoy and his gang. ...Cowards, Harry scoffed, his disdain cutting deeper than any blow. His tone was quiet but audible to all, and his mocking expression was honed to perfection. Malfoys face turned crimson, and even some of his fellow Slytherins stifled laughter. Though sorted into Slytherin, Dracos dignity had taken a massive hit. Unable to stomach the humiliation, Draco opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, the castle doors creaked open again. A figure in black robes stepped out. Professor! Dracos eyes lit up as if spotting salvation in the darkness. It was none other than Severus Snape, his personal hero. Whats going on here? Snapes voice was low and smooth, each word dripping with menace. Perhaps Professor McGonagalls punishments were too lenient, giving you all the impression that you can run wild without consequence...This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Professor, its all their fault! Draco quickly began to tattle. They provoked me Ive told you before, Draco, Snape interrupted, his silky voice cutting through Dracos complaints. Address me by my title at school. Yes, Professor, Draco muttered, swallowing his indignation. But his spirits rose again when Snape turned toward Harry. Was the big moment coming? Draco watched with bated breath. Hold out your hand, Snape said coldly, his expression unreadable. Harry obediently extended his hand, feeling something being placed into it. The castle is colder at night than you might expect, Snape said cryptically before turning and walking away. Draco was left devastated, his brief hope crushed. What is it, Harry? Neville whispered after Snape departed. Chocolate, Harry said, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. Its definitely chocolate. So, he came all the way here just to give you a piece of chocolate? Rons jaw dropped. And what was that supposed to mean? I think he meant I should dress warmer to avoid catching a cold, Harry guessed. Oh my God, did you see Malfoys face just now? He looked like someone punched him all over again, Ron exclaimed, still in disbelief. Remember what Fred said on the train? About the head of Slytherin? This doesnt match at all! Seeing is believing, Ron, Harry replied with a shrug. Freds description painted Snape as an oily-haired bat of a man, utterly biased toward Slytherin students and constantly punishing Gryffindorsa true villain. But unlike the bewildered Ron, Harry understood the reason for Snapes contradictory behavior. It all stemmed from the promise Snape had made to Lily Potters soul a month agothe vow he had taken. Of course, Snapes awkwardness in expressing himself didnt help. Coupled with Harrys resemblance to his father, the mans gestures became even clumsier. After all, his father had once stolen someone else''s love with a blade... Harry understoodoh, he understood too well. At that moment, the castles grand doors finally opened. Even among all the Hogwarts Welcoming Feasts in history, tonights banquet would undoubtedly be remembered. Unprecedentedly, two long house tables were barely half-fullsome seats were completely empty. Even the other two houses had plenty of vacancies. Many Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students had tried to take advantage of the Gryffindor-Slytherin brawl to settle some scores, only to find themselves swept deep into the fray, unable to escape. The expressions of the four house heads were grim. Or rather, they couldnt possibly look cheerful in front of the students under these circumstances. Only after the older students, having received a thorough scolding and their punishments, slunk back to their house tables did things settle downexcept, of course, for those with broken bones or severe injuries. Those unlucky few would have to spend the night in the hospital wing, nursing themselves with potions. By the time Professor McGonagall led Harry and the first-years into the Great Hall, the tables were already packed with people. Though most of the students looked disheveled, when they saw the group beside Harryfaces adorned with dark circles and swollen bruisesthe laughter began. At first, it was just a chuckle, but it quickly grew, spreading through the entire hall until it became a roar of unrestrained laughter. They were laughing at the first-years, but also at themselves and the state they were in. Thousands of candles floating mid-air flickered and swayed with the laughter. Harry looked up at the enchanted ceiling, which reflected the night sky instead of solid stone. The projection of the stars outside was fascinating. Unfortunately, what came next was far less amusing. Harry watched as Professor McGonagall pulled out a hatthe Sorting Hatwhich, hed been told, would decide where each young wizard would live for the next seven years. What happened next was a blur to Harry. He only vaguely remembered the hat breaking into song, though the words all blended into a buzzing noise in his mind. It was incredibly off-key. Afterward, all he could recall was Professor McGonagalls voice calling, Hannah Abbott! The Sorting Ceremony had officially begun. Not Hufflepuff, not Hufflepuff... Harry could hear Neville muttering under his breath, eyes squeezed shut in prayer. Was it really that bad? Harry quite liked what the books had said about Hufflepuff. Actually, the Sorting doesnt affect our courses at all, Neville, Harry whispered. As long as it doesnt stop you from learning any particular branch of magic, it doesnt matter which house youre in. It wasnt like they were choosing between elemental pathsfire, frost, or arcane magicthat would dictate their entire magical career. Hogwarts houses only determined where they lived. But if I dont get into Gryffindor, my gran will kill me! Neville whispered back, even more distressed. Ah, family pressure. Harry nodded in understanding and decided not to press further. The Sorting took longer than Harry had expected. For some students, the hat immediately shouted their house upon touching their head, but for others, it seemed to deliberate endlessly, sometimes for ten or even twenty minutes. Take Hermione, for examplethe hat sat on her head for over ten minutes before it reluctantly shouted, Gryffindor! Hermione, however, looked even more reluctant than the hat. Her face had turned green. Especially when Ron yelled, Knew it! Youre a Gryffindor! Hermione looked like she might strangle him on the spot. As someone who had read many books and admired Dumbledore, Hermione did like Gryffindor in theory. But when she thought of Harrys divination that scene of herself crying in the bathroom Hermione felt like she was going insane. If Harrys prophecy was true, why would she be crying?! What could possibly happen in Gryffindor?! When the hat touched Rons head, it instantly declared him a Gryffindor as well. But even amidst the cheers of his brothers at the Gryffindor table, Rons expression was far from happy. After all, if Hermiones vision was accurate, hed end up punished and standing in some creepy classroom corner This was going to be a nightmare. Harry Potter! Finally, Harrys name was called. By now, only a few first-years were left in line. As the most famous new studentand the one who had caused quite the uproar earlier in the dayHarry walked toward the Sorting Hat amidst cheers and whistles, like a king approaching his throne. ...Hufflepuff? I never imagined the child Dumbledore speaks of so often would want to go to Hufflepuff. How curious, came a voice in Harrys mind as the hat settled on his head. Legilimency? Harry frowned. Of course not, the hat replied sharply. I only see surface thoughtswhat youre currently pondering. Sorting has nothing to do with memories. I judge based on your personality traits and mental qualities. You humans lack that kind of insight. So, where do you think I belong? Harry asked with interest. Gryffindor, without a doubt! the hat declared without hesitation. Kid, you were born for adventure! Your courage is unmatchedeven grown wizards pale in comparison. I cant detect a single ounce of fear in you! You nearly drove Minerva mad today, you know! ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 24: Professor McGonagall and the Reluctant Spy "Sounds like you''ve got me all figured out." "Of course, of course! Kid, I can see that fiery spirit of adventure blazing in your heart! Aha! Can''t wait to explore this castle for treasure, right?" This hat was chattier than most people Harry knew. "Plenty of kids have thoughts like yours. After all, this is a castle with centuries of history. I can guarantee even Albus wouldnt claim to know all of Hogwarts secrets. And yes, many graduates leave behind puzzles for their successors to unravel." "Thats fantastic," Harry said, grinning. "What do they leave as treasure? Galleons? Rare magical artifacts? Something thatll make me filthy rich?" "Oh, you child," the hat muttered, lowering its voice. "What matters is the thrill of the adventure! You dont seem much like a kid in this regard but yes, treasure is important too!" "Did Gryffindor like treasure?" Harry asked. "He absolutely loved it!" the hat replied instantly, with no need for reflectionit had once belonged to Gryffindor, after all. "He was a treasure-hunting fanatic! Oh, butdont even think about the Forbidden Forest! No treasure there, I promise. Seriously, stay out of the Forbidden Forest!" "If Minerva finds out you got the idea from me, shed rip every single stitch out of this poor old hat. Aha! Got plans already? Then, fine. Justbe careful, kid! No Forbidden Forest!" Talking with the hat turned out to be far more enjoyable than Harry had imagined. As an artifact with a thousand years of history, it provided plenty of advice for Harrys future adventureseven dropping a few hints to egg him on. When the hat finally shouted "Gryffindor," Harry reluctantly stood and placed it back. If only he had more time to chat. Magic in this world was indeed fascinating. Objects like the hat felt as alive as any person, capable of thought and conversation. As Harry looked up, he saw a pair of redheaded twins already standing at the Gryffindor table. One was pounding the table enthusiastically while shouting: "WEVE GOT A TAUREN!" "OH, OH, OH, OH!" After the chaos on the train, Harry''s horns and his self-proclaimed identity had become well-known. To the young wizards here, his eccentricity wasnt an issueit was downright cool. Powerful wizards often had unique quirks. Naturally, the mighty Harry Potter had to be more eccentric than anyone else. Thats just how wizards were. "TAUREN! TAUREN! TAUREN!" The chant from the Gryffindor table grew rhythmic and unified. Soon, even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students joined in. The energy was infectiousexcept at the Slytherin table, where silence reigned, and everyone wore expressions as if attending a funeral. Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall beside him. The stern professor looked ready to murder the loudest Gryffindors, particularly the ringleaders. Her eyes practically burned with murderous intent. To put it plainly, Professor McGonagall wanted to kill Fred and George. The twins, of course, sensed her wrath but couldnt care less. Live for the moment, even if you die tomorrow. "The great Harry Potter has arrived to join his most loyal Gryffindors!" As Harry approached the table, Fred announced his arrival grandly and moved aside to make room. "Oh, our magnificent TAUREN King, this way, please! Your throne awaits!" George said with an exaggerated bow. The twins flattery was over-the-top, their obsequious behavior worthy of villains in a play. The other Gryffindors eagerly played along, standing to form a path and welcoming Harry with cheers. Harry found the whole king treatment exasperating. Yet, with the twins physically guiding him, there was no escaping their antics without hurting someone. So, he let them lead him to the center of the Gryffindor table. When Harry sat, the hall erupted in applauseexcept, of course, from the Slytherins. It took Professor McGonagall significant effort to quiet the rowdy scene so the Sorting could continue for the remaining students.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. As Hogwarts headmaster, Dumbledore excelled at brevity. After a short welcome speech, he announced dinner. The food at Hogwarts was surprisingly good. Harry noted the menu leaned more toward French cuisine than traditional British farea definite improvement. The Gryffindors were warm and enthusiastic, constantly chatting with Harry. They explained which dishes were the best and how to ask the house-elves for seconds. Meanwhile, at the professors table, a lively discussion accompanied the meal. "Cheer up, Minerva," Professor Flitwick said with a chuckle. "Youre the head of the house for the Boy Who Lived! What an honor! You might even make it into magical history for this." "Is that so, Filius?" Professor McGonagall replied dryly, fixing her colleague with a glare. "Shall we trade places, then?" "Oh, no need for that," Flitwick laughed nervously. "Hogwarts has never transferred a student after sorting. It wouldnt be proper." Longtime friends, they knew each other well. Flitwick was teasing McGonagall, congratulating her on gaining a student destined to cause no end of trouble. As a Ravenclaw, Flitwick preferred a quiet life, free from drama. It was clear McGonagalls next seven years would be anything but peacefulshe was already sighing deeply. "I suppose Ill never see the House Cup again, Filius," she lamented. "The House Cup, you say?" Flitwicks smile faded at the mention of the trophy. If given a choice, no one wanted to endure another six years of Slytherin victories. Both professors often felt overshadowed by Snapes unapologetic favoritism toward his house, which secured Slytherins dominance year after year. At this point, McGonagall turned to Snape. "Professor Snape, as Hogwarts deputy headmaster, I hope youll strive for fairness and impartiality in the coming years." "Naturally," Snape replied, setting down his utensils. His calm, measured gaze met McGonagalls. "As always." Unwilling to jeopardize their working relationship, McGonagall said no more. But inwardly, she doubted Snapes words. Snapes biased point system had enabled Slytherins six-year winning streak. Though McGonagall wouldnt stoop to similar tactics, the idea of Snape tipping the scales in Gryffindors favor worried her. After all, when had Snape ever been impartial? --- Harry was quite pleased with his first dinner in the wizarding world. It was lively and reminded him of a bonfire gathering on Thunder Bluff. The only thing that left him a bit disappointed was the lack of magical food. After witnessing the wonders of magic in this world, Harry had been looking forward to seeing some magical dishesfor example, a talking cake or self-transforming flavors in food. Something akin to the snacks he''d had on the Hogwarts Express, like the Chocolate Frogs, which were incredibly unique. But unfortunately, all he got was mashed potatoes and stew. It was far too Muggle-like. After everyone had eaten their fill, Dumbledore clapped his hands, and the tables instantly cleared themselves. Just like his earlier speech, Dumbledore succinctly and humorously emphasized a few important school rules at Hogwartssuch as the Forbidden Forest, which many people had warned Harry to avoid, and the prohibition against casually casting spells in the corridors. He also particularly stressed avoiding the right-side corridor on the fourth floor. When Dumbledore said this, Harry was sure the lively old man was looking directly at him. ... What did that mean? Was this an invitation? Harrys adventurous spirit began to blaze. For childrenor rather, for anyonethe more you emphasize not to press a button, the more they want to press it. Dumbledores final warning felt exactly like that to Harry. He wasnt entirely sure what to make of it. Following Percy, the prefect, Harry headed to the Gryffindor common room. The dormitories were shared by five people: Harry, Ron, Neville, and two new faces, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. To be honest, it felt a bit crowded, and the personal space allocated to each person was too small for Harrys liking. As a shaman, Harry had too many things he needed to set uplike totems, offerings for the elements and ancestors, and various herbs and magical items. Sharing a room with so many people was inconvenient. "Maybe I could apply to Headmaster Dumbledore later to let me build a wooden cabin by the edge of the Forbidden Forest?" With that thought in mind, Harry drifted off to sleep. -- Some slept, while others stayed awake, burdened with thoughts of the world. "... His thinking is indeed very mature, and he has a remarkable drive. I see in him a fearless courage, Albus. True courage, not recklessnesstheres a conviction within him, and hes willing to risk his life for it." "You know, very few people can truly see themselves, and those who can often possess the wisdom of age, having gone through enough in life. But young Harry already understands himself. I dont see any hesitation in him, and thats quite unusual for someone his age." In the Headmasters office at Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore gazed at the Sorting Hat in front of him, listening to its observations. "Honestly, Albus, I dont think theres anything to be wary of with this child," the hat said, its brim opening and closing as it spoke. "If he had appeared a thousand years ago, I believe he would have been Godric Gryffindors best friendGryffindor loved people like Harry." "Oh... I didnt expect you to take such a liking to him," Dumbledore replied candidly, a tone reserved for these moments of solitude. "He only wore you for about twenty minutes." "We talked a lot, Albus," the Sorting Hat said excitedly. "About adventures in the castle, ventures into the Forbidden Forestoh, forget I mentioned that. In any case, we had a great conversation. That child is a true Gryffindor, through and through. His thirst for adventure is almost identical to Gryffindors own." " Hearing this from you is indeed reassuring." Dumbledore seemed to relax, a trace of relief crossing his face. "I know what youre thinking, Albus. Even though you havent worn me, and no one bothers to chat with this old hat," it wriggled slightly as it spoke, "I have to tell you, that child is differentyou cant treat him like a child. You have to regard him as a fully grown wizard." "If you approach him as a child, I doubt your interactions will go smoothly." "Of course, Ive already noticed that," Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, Sorting Hat. Your insights are very helpful." "Ah, I do wish people would talk to me more. You know, I spend the entire year stuck here, staring at that bird..." The Sorting Hat continued to ramble, but with a wave of Dumbledores hand, it floated up and finally settled on a cabinet nearby. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 25: Hagrid’s Rejection and the Wizard’s Amusement Dont blame Dumbledore for being overly cautious with a childespecially one like Harry, who was exceptionally gifted. In a world where magic existed, a wizard with immense talent who strayed from the right path could bring about unimaginable destructionfar more devastating than the mistakes of the average person. Great power combined with unmatched ability could render others utterly incapable of resisting their will. Many families destroyed, countless tragedies... In Dumbledore''s earlier years, he had misjudged a child once before. His mishandling of the situation had contributed, in part, to that child veering off course. The regret lingered in his heart. Voldemort. What if he had approached things differently back then? What if he had been more patient? Could things have turned out differently? So, when another immensely talented child appeared before him, Dumbledore became exceedingly cautiousextraordinarily cautious. After all, the weight of the British wizarding world, and even the International Confederation of Wizards, rested squarely on his shoulders. He was, quite literally, Britains heavyweight champion. And he was growing old. He was like a banner, a symbol. If Dumbledore fell, there was no replacement in the wizarding world capable of holding the sky aloft. This seemingly strong yet inherently fragile magical world could no longer endure another Dark Lords reign of terror. But none of this had much to do with Harryor at least, not the Harry of now. The schedules for new students at Hogwarts were rather relaxed, likely designed to accommodate their curiosity and desire to explore. On the first day after their arrival, the morning was free for them to wander the castle. There was only one Herbology class in the afternoon and a History of Magic class in the evening. Despite having no morning classes, Harrys routine wasnt disrupted. He was already up before dawn while Ron and the others were still snoring away in their beds. As a mature shaman, one should be adept in divination and prophecy to guide their people, capable of handling tribal affairs, and skilled enough to wield a warhammer and lead in battle. Harry couldnt bear his current weak stateit left him feeling insecure. His first goal was simple: rebuild his strength and regain his muscle. Why are you here? Blocking Harrys path was Filch, a frail-looking man who served as Hogwarts'' caretaker. He glared at Harry with suspicion, as if hed caught a petty thief. By his side was his cat, scrawny and gray-furred. Im going outside to train, Professor, Harry replied. Filchs appearance was a bit unnerving, and Ron would probably be too scared to speak in this situation. But Harry remained calm. I didnt realize the castle gates were locked. Luckily, you showed up. Filchs eyes widened in disbelief. Professor? Had he just been addressed as Professor? By the Harry Potter? Caught off guard. As the caretaker tasked with patrolling the castle at nightessentially its enforcerFilch wasnt well-liked. Students rarely respected him. He wasnt used to it. Not at all. It felt awkward. ...Hogwarts has a curfew, Filch grumbled, turning away. Im the only one allowed to unlock these doors, to prevent those troublemakers from sneaking out at night Its my job to patrol and catch students breaking the rules, then send them to detention. Muttering under his breath, he pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the gate. Harry Potter A first-year, awake this early? Ive made a habit of early training. A strong body is essential for combat, Harry explained as he followed Filch outside. By the way, Professor, your cat doesnt look very healthyshes far too skinny. Are you sure shes getting proper nutrition? Combat? Professor McGonagall wouldnt like the sound of that, Filch muttered, suddenly tense. You mean Mrs. Norris? Shes called Mrs. Norris? Harry knelt, extending his hand toward the infamous cat, who was equally unpopular among students. Let me take a look. As Filchs pet, Mrs. Norris was instrumental in helping him catch rule-breaking students. Naturally, she was disliked. No, Mrs. Norris doesnt warm up to strangers Filch stopped mid-sentence, stunned. To his amazement, Mrs. Norris actually approached Harry after he beckoned her and allowed herself to be picked up. She was indeed too thin. Her fur was dull, and there wasnt an ounce of fat on her. But Harry had another reason for picking her up. Behind Filch, two red-haired figures were sneaking toward the castle gates. Who else could they be but Fred and George? Noticing Harrys gaze, Fred gave him a wide grin, raising his hands to mimic horns above his head. George, on the other hand, crossed his arms and made a heart shape in Harrys direction.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Those troublemaking twinswere they already heading into the Forbidden Forest on their first night? Harry sighed silently, deciding to pretend he hadnt seen them. You should let her get more sunlight, Professor. Her coat is in poor condition, Harry said seriously. Feed her chicken, fish, and beef. A daily egg would help too. Oh, and there are Muggle supplements like fish oil specifically for pets. Its great for a cats health. Whats that? Filch asked, growing even more nervous. Muggle things? Theyre not poisonous, are they? Of course not. The Muggles have an entire pet industry, Harry replied. If youd like, I can write to my aunt and ask her to buy some for you. You can try them outthere are even specific foods designed to plump pets up. Mrs. Norris is already beautiful, but a fuller figure would make her even more appealing. Really? Oh, yes! Absolutely! Filch exclaimed, his face lighting up. Ill pay for it, as long as you can guarantee it wont harm her. It wont, Harry assured him. Its safe for humans to eat too. Harry and Filch chatted amicablya sight that would undoubtedly make any passing student question if they were still dreaming. After parting ways with Filch, Harry decided to jog along the edge of the Black Lake before heading to the Forbidden Forest to find Hagrid. He hadnt had a proper chat with his first wizarding friend due to Hagrids work the previous night. I didnt expect you to be up so early, Harry. Youre nothing like a kid. Even your fatherlively as he waswould still be in bed at this hour back in the day, Hagrid remarked, looking sleep-deprived as he hung an enormous bow on the wall. Hagrids hut was small but cozyit gave Harry a familiar sense of warmth. The crackling fireplace, the animal pelts and bones adorning the walls, and the herbs hanging to dry Can I move in with you, Hagrid? Harry asked, picking up a bundle of herbs roasting by the fire and giving them a sniff. If its too cramped, I could build a hut next door. Wed be neighbors. Hed been seriously considering this since the previous night, ranking it quite high on his priority list. There was a loud crash as Hagrid knocked something over. Why would you think that, Harry? Dont you like staying with your friends in the dormitory? Hagrid stammered, turning around. I dont have much here! No, you have everything, Harry said firmly. Following Harry''s gaze, Hagrid looked overonly to see the wallbut he quickly realized what Harry was truly saying. "Ah-ha! The Forbidden Forest, right? I knew it!" Hagrid exclaimed. "I''ve spent half my life chasing students out of there, Harry!" "Clearly, it''s too difficult for you, Hagrid, since you''re just one person," Harry shrugged. "I just saw Fred and George sneaking back from the direction of the Forest." "Did you now?! I knew it! I knew it!! Someone snuck into the Forbidden Forest last night, didn''t they!" Hagrid now looked even angrier. "Good grief! Can''t they take a break on the first day of term? I could practically replace the word ''students'' in my sentence with those twins!" "Maybe it''s because they''ve been pent up for the entire holiday," Harry offered unhelpfully. "Like I said, Hagrid, you''re too busy to handle it all alone. But itd be a different story if you had some help." "Oh, youre not about to suggest that help would be you, are you, Harry?" Hagrid chuckled. "You''re still too young, Harry. The Forbidden Forest isn''t a place for you. Forget it. I wont agree to it, Professor Dumbledore wouldnt agree, and Professor McGonagallwell, shed certainly never agree!" What was that supposed to mean? Why did he list Professor McGonagall after Headmaster Dumbledore? What are you up to, Hagrid? No matter what Harry said, Hagrid wouldnt budge. It always came back to Dumbledore and McGonagall. Even when Harry tried to argue that he was technically a shaman who needed his own space to commune with the elements and ancestral spirits, it was no use. Fine, then. Harry decided to bring this matter to Dumbledore directly. He trusted the open-minded old man to understand. --- Harrys first class at Hogwarts was his favorite: Herbology. The subject was taught by Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff House. A truly knowledgeable personor, rather, as one would expect from a professor at Britains one and only school of witchcraft and wizardry. Unfortunately, as a first-year, Harry and his classmates didnt get to encounter any of the more dangerous magical plants, which he found quite disappointing. The evening''s History of Magic class, however, provided Harry with a refined nap. He couldnt understand how Professor Binns voice could be so soporific. Truthfully, when Harry first learned that the teacher of this subject was a thousand-year-old ghost, he had been quite excited. Hed imagined the ghost narrating hidden histories in a firsthand, vivid manner... but instead, it was like listening to a cow lull itself to sleep. --- It wasnt until Tuesday afternoon that Harry finally attended another class he was eagerly anticipating: Transfiguration. Magic in this world was fascinating. It encompassed every aspect of life, and its manifestations were steeped in an otherworldly charma charm so magical it could even exist in Azeroth. The best example of this was Transfiguration. Harry couldnt figure out what category this type of spell should fall under. After all, he wasnt one of those magic scholars from Dalaran. Transfiguration allowed an object to freely change into another object, even turning inanimate things into living, breathing creaturescreatures that could roar, move, and growl. It was like something out of a dream. Perhaps to open the eyes of the more restless young wizards and put some fear into them, Professor McGonagallthe teacher of the classbegan with an impressive demonstration. With a flick of her wand, she transformed the lectern into a pig that ran, jumped, and snorted its way around the classroom. She then sternly warned the students that anyone misbehaving might find themselves turned into a pig. Harry, naturally, didnt believe such a threat for a second. What truly puzzled him was what happened before the lesson began: Professor McGonagall, in cat form, had been sitting on the lectern. She waited until everyone was present before suddenly transforming back into a human. A druid? Harry was perplexed. Did this mean that every wizard proficient in Transfiguration was essentially a potential druid? Able to transform into anything they desired? Being a mage was hard enough, and now he couldnt help but want to unravel every mystery. This question haunted Harry throughout the lesson. No matter how he thought about it, he couldnt come up with a satisfactory answer. All he could do was focus on his wand, pointing it at the needle in front of him. According to Professor McGonagall, the needle would be their practice object for the weekpossibly even the next few weeks. Their task was to use Transfiguration to change it into something else. For Harry, this wasnt particularly difficult. The needle felt as malleable as clay in Harrys hands, transforming effortlessly under his guidancefirst into a blade of grass, then into a ribbon, and then into a piece of twine. Harry couldnt understand how the needle became other materials, nor could he figure out where the additional substance came from. From a purely visual perspective, even fifty needles couldnt have been enough to match the thickness of that twine. Yet, by simply following the instructions in the book and Professor McGonagalls teachings, he could make it happen. Lost in thought, Harry began to understand why Jaina sometimes fell into a frenzy of magical study. The process of exploring the nature and principles of magic was undeniably delightful. So much so, in fact, that he didnt even notice when Professor McGonagall had walked over and was now standing by his side, watching him fiddle aimlessly with the needle. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 26. Harry’s Struggles and Hermione’s Pressure The needle in front of him seemed like an amorphous lump of clay, constantly shifting its form without a moments pause. Yet, unlike clay, it didnt possess that familiar texture or color; instead, it alternated between appearing metallic and wooden, endlessly transforming. For Harry, this sensation of casting magic felt rather unfamiliar. In traditional shamanistic practices, spells were primarily performed through communion with the elements and ancestors, relying on requests and harmony. Only shamans who had strayed down darker paths would impose their will to forcibly twist the elements, coercing them into service. But now, this transfiguration spell Harry was casting resembled those of those dark shamans. It relied on his will to forcibly manipulate external objectsa feeling Harry found unsettling, perhaps even repulsive. From the perspective of magical theory, these were two fundamentally different schools of thought. Shamans believed that all things had spirits, even something as mundane as a needleprovided that the needle held unique meaning to someone, such as being passed down from ones parents. A needle imbued with such emotions could indeed possess a spirit. However, the needle before Harry was merely a standard classroom prop, devoid of any inherent spirit. Still, Harry couldnt help but wonder: what if he were transfiguring an object that did have a spirit? Would the spirit vanish during the transfiguration? Would it be distorted? Obliterated? In the context of magicsuch a subjective, belief-driven powerthese questions were of paramount importance. Harry couldnt afford to gloss over them. Ignoring such doubts would only sow the seeds of trouble for his future self. And what if he turned an object with a spirit into a living creature, like a cat? Would that mean he had given the spirit a body? Had he granted it life? Harrys thoughts wandered endlessly, and the needle before himif it could still be called a needlemorphed along with his musings, gradually taking on the shape of a cat. It had limbs and facial features, but its surface looked as if it were covered in mud, on the verge of disintegration. Professor McGonagalls face lit up with increasing delight. She was even ready to offer words of praisebut then the cat collapsed, breaking apart into something unrecognizable on the desk. Excellent work with the Transfiguration, ten points to Gryffindor! she still commended him. You were so close to succeeding, Mr. Potter. Perhaps some of you dont quite understand what just happened, Professor McGonagall turned to address the other young wizards in the room. Let me explain briefly: in your first and second years, youll only be required to transfigure living objects into non-living ones. While challenging, the difficulty level is relatively low. But what Mr. Potter attempted was transfiguring a non-living object into a living onea skill thats part of the third-year curriculum and extremely advanced, she continued, her tone tinged with admiration. Im confident that most of you wont master this until the end of your third year. But I failed, Professor, Harry said, staring blankly at the messy pile of... whatever it was on the desk, still caught up in the peculiar sensation from earlier. Thats because youre resisting it, Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall said gently. It seemed that after witnessing Harrys innate talent for Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had let go of some of her earlier displeasure toward him over the trouble he had caused before term started. No teacher dislikes a gifted studentthis holds true everywhere. Professor McGonagall could see it clearly. The cat had almost fully taken shape before it began to tremble violently at the last moment, ultimately collapsing into a failed transformation. Yes, I was resisting it, Harry sighed. I have a lot of questions Id like to ask you. Of course, thats what Im here for, Professor McGonagall replied, clearly pleased. But youll have to wait until after class. During lessons, we need to stick to the curriculum. Harry had no objections. When he turned his head, however, he saw Hermione furiously pointing her wand at her needlealmost as if she were about to stab it to death with sheer force. Honestly, Harry thought that if Hermione pushed any harder, the needle might actually transformif being bent out of shape counted as Transfiguration. This had poor Neville sitting next to her trembling, too scared to utter a single word for fear of accidentally setting off the ticking time bomb beside him. Whats gotten into her? Harry asked Ron, utterly confused. Oh, so you finally noticed, mate, Ron said with a sarcastic edge. Shes been like that ever since you started messing with that needle. I was afraid shed shove her wand up my nose in frustration. I did NOT! Hermione snapped, though she was clearly struggling to keep her voice down. Even so, it drew a sharp look from Professor McGonagall. I justI just She stumbled over her words, unable to articulate her feelings. Her face flushed bright red, and her eyes glistened slightly. Shes a proud kid, Harry thought. Hed already picked up on that during their train ride to Hogwarts.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Take it easy, Harry said knowingly. Its only our first Transfiguration lesson. According to Professor McGonagall, just managing to change the needles color by the end of class would already be impressive. ...I have to remind you, Harry Potter, Hermione hissed, her voice low but full of bite as she spat each syllable through gritted teeth, that youre the same age as the rest of uswere all eleven! So stop calling me a kid! Why should I lag so far behind you when were learning magic at the same time? This makes no sense! Her competitive spirit had fully ignited. To Hermione, it was one thing to be slightly behind her peers. But falling this far behind? That was simply unacceptablethird-year material, for heavens sake! Harry opened his mouth, but he couldnt explain to Hermione that his soul wasnt purely that of an eleven-year-old child, that his experiences and growth far exceeded theirs. So instead, he could only share his learning approach. You need to focus more, Hermione, Harry said helpfully. The key to Transfiguration is determination. You need to impose your will on the target, commanding it to change. The process has to be resolute. For kids, staying focused is actually the hardest part. Most people find that the harder they try to clear their minds and concentrate, the more distractions pop upespecially for lively children. Oh, sure, stay focused, Hermione grumbled. Easy for you to say! Why was it so effortless for you? ...Because Im Harry Potter. Harry didnt particularly enjoy the attention his name brought him, but he had to admitit was a convenient excuse when he couldnt explain certain things. In the magical world, the name Harry Potter was practically synonymous with innate talent. It was something muggle-born wizards and witches couldnt fully comprehend. Which, of course, only made Hermione angrier. In contrast to Ron and Neville, the two brothers handled things quite differently. Neville seemed somewhat tense, while Ron appeared completely carefreeafter all, Professor McGonagall had said that transfiguring needles was the focus of the next two weeks lessons. So why rush? As for Harry, who had already succeeded in transfiguration during the first lesson My brothers amazing!! That was just Ron for you. The class flew by quickly. Just as it was about to end, Hermione finally managed to alter the needles shape. This bit of progress was enough to make the young girl breathe a sigh of relief, lifting a good amount of the pressure off her shoulders. First-year students didnt have any other lessons after Tuesday afternoons Transfiguration class. While most of the other students dashed out of the classroom, Harry stayed behind, holding his things as he approached Professor McGonagall. Naturally, an unyielding Hermione followed close behind. Ron and Neville, not wanting to leave their friends, trailed along as well. Before you share your concerns, Mr. Potter, please tell me about your current progress in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall said. Post-class, she seemed much less stern. Im stuck at the third-year level, Professor, Harry admitted, looking troubled as he tried to explain his struggle. Wizards werent shamans, after all, and they didnt believe in the concept of animism. Turning inanimate objects into living things makes me feel spiritually uncomfortable. Behind him, Harry could hear Hermione take a sharp breath, but at the moment, he couldnt spare the energy to comfort the girls feelings. Even Ollivander, the wandmaker with some shamanistic talent, could only sense the spirits within wands. That was more of an intuitive gift, while most wizards didnt concern themselves with such things at all. Harry was worried that Professor McGonagall might dismiss his concerns as childish fantasies. To be precise, Transfiguration as a whole makes me feel spiritually uncomfortable, Harry decided to be honest. In my view, Transfiguration forces your will onto external objects, twisting them into something else. But Iuh, you could say I have a magical talent. This talent has always told me to treat all things equally, to accept them and guide them toward balance. These two ideas conflict with each other. Forcing your will I didnt expect you to view Transfiguration that way. So thats the source of your resistance? Professor McGonagalls expression became unexpectedly serious, her brows furrowing. And your magical talent Headmaster Dumbledore has mentioned certain things about you to me, but he doesnt know much either. Bloodline magic wasnt unheard of in the wizarding world. For example, Tonks Metamorphmagus ability or the unique inherited magic among certain pure-blood families. So, in truth, it wasnt all that surprising. Not to mention, Harry had already made headlines in the Daily Prophet by his second day back in this world. I cant give you an answer without understanding your situation better, especially since it involves your magical talent. That would be irresponsible of me, Mr. Potter, Professor McGonagall said cautiously. Perhaps Ill need to invite you to join my Transfiguration Club a bit earlier than planned. Hogwarts had various clubs, such as the Gobstones Club, which Ron had already joined. Gobstones was a kind of wizarding tabletop game. There were also Professor Flitwicks Charms Club, the Duelling Club, and so on. Some of these clubs even hosted competitions. Normally, invitations are sent in your third year. But as a professor, I cant stand to see you waste two years of potential on ordinary lessons. That would be a loss for the wizarding world. Once weve studied your situation in detail, we can offer more targeted solutions, Professor McGonagall said, her lips pressing into a thin line that resembled a smile. So, Mr. Potter, whats your answer? Id be honored, Professor, Harry replied without hesitation. He truly loved the magic of this world, and Transfiguration, as a defining branch of magic, was something he couldnt give up so easily. If he ever returned to Azeroth someday, Harry was determined to use this worlds magic to impress Jainaand settle an old score from when a certain mage had humiliated him. Um, Professorcan I join too? Your club, I mean! Hermione blurted out, clearly panicked after seeing Harry invited to Professor McGonagalls advanced Transfiguration class (or so it appeared to a Muggle-born student). Falling behind was bad enough, but now Harry had joined a Transfiguration clubthat just meant shed fall even further behind! Oh, Miss Granger, Professor McGonagall offered an encouraging smile. For lower-year students, joining such clubs too early isnt necessarily a good idea. We prefer to see you focus on your current coursework and enjoy campus life. Dont rush things. As for Mr. Potter well, his situation is clearly unique. Picking up her belongings, Professor McGonagall prepared to leave. I have other classes to attend to. Someone will deliver the club invitation to you later, Mr. Potter. I look forward to seeing you there. With that, Professor McGonagall left gracefully, leaving behind Hermione with reddened eyes. She didnt even wait for the others, storming off with her books clutched tightly in her arms. Ah, she really wants to improve, Ron said with a sigh as he watched Hermione push the door open and storm out. Honestly, even if the Transfiguration Club was right in front of me, I wouldnt want to join. I didnt expect her to get this worked up over it. Sheuh, Hermiones not a bad person, really, Neville stammered. Of course, I know that, Ron shrugged. After that fight on the train, she even tried to take all the blame on herself. I just think shes torturing herselfand us, while shes at it. Its kind of annoying. That battle on the train had forged a strong bond of camaraderie, which made Ron consider Hermione one of his own. Otherwise, her attitude wouldve irritated him long ago. Ron, a man who occasionally displayed great wisdom. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 27: The Genius Twins’ Astonishing Ingenuity "Hermione is just competitive, Ron," Harry said, trying to calm Ron, who was clearly annoyed by Hermione''s behavior. "She grew up in a Muggle family, so she''s always worried about falling behind at Hogwarts and getting laughed at." "Come on, Harry," Ron retorted with a roll of his eyes. "You and Hermione were the only ones in the entire class who managed to get that stupid needle to transform. Not even Neville or I, who grew up in the magical world, could do itand neither could the Ravenclaws in our group. I don''t see what she has to be unhappy about." Ron had a point. "Admit itshe just wants to outdo you, Harry," Ron added with a shrug. "Merlin''s beard, you''re Harry Potter! The Savior of the Wizarding World!" "I''m just a regular person, Ron. Youre exaggerating," Harry replied, shaking his head slightly. "A regular wizard? Can a regular wizard defeat You-Know-Who? Can a regular wizard summon a giant stone golem bigger than a house?" Ron pressed. "Hermione just doesn''t want to admit it... Anyway, Im not going to compete with youits pointless." When the gap is too vast, even jealousy struggles to take root. The thought of competing never even crossed Rons mind. As for his current situation, Ron couldn''t be happier. With seven children in the Weasley family, Rons parents loved all of them, but there were simply too many to go around. Inevitably, some children felt overlooked. At home, Ron often felt like the forgotten one, especially with Ginny being both the youngest and the only girl. But things were different now. On his very first day at Hogwarts, he''d made quite the impressionnot only earning praise from countless older Gryffindors but even receiving shoulder pats and compliments from Fred and George, those two mischievous older brothers. And, of course, hed become the friend of none other than Harry Potter himself. Honestly, Ron felt like he was living a dream these daysif only there werent so much homework from the professors. At dinner, Ron was, for what felt like the hundredth time, retelling the story of how hed punched Malfoy square in his smug face. And the best part? People still loved hearing itespecially whenever a Slytherin walked by the Gryffindor table. If Malfoy himself passed by? Even better. "Oh my, Fred, do you hear that? What is this?" "Isnt that our dearest little brother, Ronnikins?" As Ron was in the middle of dramatically recounting his tale, two pairs of hands grabbed him from behind. It was none other than Fred and George. "Lets see now, whats the latest version of the story?" "Is it the one where Ron singlehandedly defeated Malfoy and his two cronies?" "No, no, Fred, thats outdated. I believe its at least two cronies now" "Wait, maybe three?" "Four, Id wager." "Fine, well settle on fivefive upper-year Slytherins! Merlins beard, its been three minutes since we last heard the glorious tale of Ronnikins triumph!" "Absolutely! Im feeling itchy all over!" "Shut up, Fred! George!" Rons face turned beet red as he glared at them. He looked ready to stab his brothers with his fork. "Cant you two just eat your dinner quietly for once?!" When it came to threats, Ron was certain his biggest ones were sitting right herehis own brothers. The table erupted into laughter. Even Hermione, who had been frowning all afternoon, couldnt help but chuckle. That was the thing about the Weasley twinswherever they went, laughter followed. Ron, however, had a different opinion. "Wait a second... Whats on your heads?" Harry suddenly noticed something odd about the twins and was utterly speechless. "Youve spotted it, Harry!" Fred exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. "Brilliant, isnt it?!" George chimed in, beaming with pride. Standing beside the long Gryffindor table, Fred and George proudly displayed their foreheadswhich now sported a pair of horns. Yes, horns. Much like the ones on Harrys head except the twins were larger, more curved, and resembled ram horns. Admittedly, they looked surprisingly impressive and intimidating. "We worked on these all night, Harry!" Fred declared, clearly thrilled by the attention they were receiving from the entire Great Hall. He clapped George on the shoulder. "Exactly! And the best part? These horns are far more impressive than they look!" George shouted, hopping onto a chair to make himself more visible. "Watch this!"The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Fred joined him, both now standing atop their chairs. Under the watchful eyes of the entire Great Hall, their horns began toglow. First red, then orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violetthe colors cycled like a dazzling light show. The moment the horns started glowing, Harry nearly lost it. When they began shifting through all the colors of the rainbow, illuminating the hall like a disco ball, Harry... Well, he had to suppress a powerful urgean urge to punch the twins in their glowing faces. The ever-changing light painted everyones faces in different hues. Whistles echoed through the hall as the atmosphere turned lively, no longer confined to just the Gryffindor table. It felt like they were in a nightclubor a barminus the music. But the twins didnt let that stop them; they swayed to the whistles and cheers. Finally, they struck dramatic poses, arms raised, one leaning left and the other right. And then And then!! Under Harrys now bloodshot gaze, the twins horns suddenly emitted a loud "toot-toot" sound, followed by a long, resounding moo, andyesstreams of confetti. A small red-and-gold magical firework burst above their heads. Harry tried. He really did. But he couldnt help it. He shoved several mouthfuls of mashed potatoes into his mouth to stifle his urgethe urge to bury Fred and George six feet underground. To be honest, it was a monumental effort. Ever since regaining his youthful energy, Harry found it much harder to rein in the impulses of his younger self. So, he repeated to himself like a mantra: Theyre just kids, just kids, just calves, just calves... Until he heard the twins bowing and thanking their "audience." "Thank you! Thank you!!" Like performers after a stage play, Fred and George bowed to the applause. "Harry Potter-inspired glowing horns! Two Galleons a pair! Brighten up your dayand your face!" Fred announced. "Join us! Become a horned hero!" "You could be the next Horned Wizard!" "Make Horned Wizards great again!" Patiencepatiencenope, patience is gone! Harry threw a punch, landing squarely on their stomachs, and the comedic twin duo slid off their chairs in exaggerated agony, their faces twisted in mock pain. It was as if they were enacting their final moments, stretching out trembling hands in an over-the-top performancethey really should consider acting as a career. Yet, instead of making the atmosphere more serious, Harry''s punches only seemed to crank up the energy in the dining hall. Cheers, applause, and whistles echoed throughout, not just from the Gryffindor table but even from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables nearby. Some students actually stood up, shouting Fred and George''s names, ready to place orders. Even the Slytherins joined in! Although, at the Slytherin table, they kept their enthusiasm subtle, feigning disdain to maintain appearances. Clutching his face in frustration, Harry genuinely began to wonder if there was some kind of generational gap between him and these young wizards. How was he supposed to stop this madness? How? What could he dodeclare a manhunt within Hogwarts? They were just a bunch of kids looking for a good laugh. Besides, if they really wanted these things, they could always make them themselves. Harry suddenly felt an odd kinship with Professor McGonagallthis must have been exactly how she felt that day she handed him back the warhammer and shield. Ha-Harry, Freds trembling hand tugged at Harrys robe as he lay sprawled under the table. We could cut you in on the profits. A forty-sixty split! You get forty; we get sixty! I dont need your money! Harry snapped through gritted teeth, turning his head. What youre doing is desecrating the honor of the Tauren! Hey, Harry, dont put it like that, George, suddenly abandoning his injured act, popped up beside Harry and threw an arm around his shoulder. First of all, no money is small money. Wealth is built over timeand besides, were charging two Galleons for a pair. Thats not small change! Exactly! Look at the demandweve got a bestseller on our hands, Fred chimed in, seating himself on Harrys other side. The twins flanked him, speaking into each ear. And as a newly emerging race, we should recruit more people. The more there are, the greater our tribes glory! Lets make our people even more magnificent! The twins had already started identifying as Tauren themselves. ...Its not what you think, Harry sighed, uncharacteristically weak in his protests. At best, this is performance art. Its not real Tauren culture. There were too many things he couldnt explain to Fred and George, things that wouldnt make senseor that simply didnt need explaining. To the twins, the Tauren were just a brilliant idea of Harrys, and they were happy to be part of the grand vision. But the Tauren they envisioned and the Tauren Harry remembered were not the same. At least, Harry had never imagined Tauren at Thunder Bluffwith horns that could glow, change colors, and shoot fireworks. Cairne would probably butcher them probably And Magatha shed likely have a heart attack. She was the traditional type, after all. Of course, of course, Fred clapped Harry on the shoulder repeatedly. We know nothing about Tauren, but thats why weve got you! Exactly! Since we dont know anything, you can teach us about the glory of the Tauren, George added cheerfully. Their culture, their traditions! Its just so cool! At that, the twins shouted in unison, their eyes practically sparkling. ...Your eyes are literally glowing, Harry muttered, borrowing a line Hagrid once used on him. He propped his head on his hand, utterly drained. But honestly, considering what he had planned for the futurethings like spreading the path of shamanism and reviving the elements worldwide Associating that with the Tauren didnt seem like such a bad idea. Using Tauren traits as symbols for this path might even strengthen organizational identityand bring some familiar sights into this world to ease his homesickness. ...Actually, it wasnt bad at all. Harry was trying to console himself. Really, he was. Otherwise, there might have been bloodshed in the Hogwarts dining hall today. After all, this wasnt Azeroth. Things had to be done differently here. Yes. Thats it. Absolutely. But the horns definitely could not be multicolored, glowing, or shooting fireworks! Absolutely not! That was Harrys bottom line! Breathing heavily, Harry no longer had his usual composed demeanor; even his breaths came unevenly. This isnt so bad, is it? Hermione, who had been laughing uncontrollably nearby, finally managed to speak. Back on the Hogwarts Express, could you have imagined a day where youd say the words performance art to someone? Harry: ... He realized this little witch had not only a sharp memory but also a penchant for holding grudges. She still remembered how hed teased her on the train. Its not the same, Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. Not even close. Sure, go tell them that pfft! Hermione gestured toward the students still shouting to order glowing horns, clearly trying to suppress her laughter but failing miserably. Hermione, at this moment, looked nothing like the stressed and overwhelmed girl from earlier in the day. She seemed genuinely happy now. Fine, laugh. Go ahead and laugh, Harry muttered, glancing around at his friends, all struggling to contain their laughter. He sighed deeply. If it makes you happy, I guess thats fine. After all, making the little ones happy was the least he could do bite back frustration. Hahahahahahahahaha! The laughter only grew louder. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 28: Harry Faces Reality and Professor Quirrells Peculiarity
I have to admit, the... creative ideas you two come up with are truly beyond my imagination, Harry said through gritted teeth when mentioning the term "creative ideas." You went into the Forbidden Forest the night before last just for this? Oh, speaking of that, we still havent thanked you properly, Harry, Fred said, slinging an arm around him affectionately. We wouldnt forget to thank those who helped us, George chimed in with a grin. If it werent for you distracting Filch, that old codger, we mightve been caught. Wait a second, George. I beg to differ just a bit. Even if Harry hadnt helped, we wouldnt have been caught. Worst-case scenario, we couldve just thrown dungbombs to divert Filchs attention. Come on, Fred, were running low on dungbombs. We need to ration them carefully. True, good things always run out too quickly. Dungbombs, a classic prank item in the wizarding world, explode into a mess that reeks of... well, dung. Its not real dung, but the lingering odor seeps into everything and sticks around for ages. But that wasnt the point. Harry had zero interest in hearing the twins discussions about frugal pranking strategies. So, your way of thanking me was making a bunch of glowing cow horns to sell? Harry squinted at them. I can assure you thats not the kind of gratitude I want. Not even close. Back in Azeroth, if a goblin had dared to make flashing, color-changing, firework-launching horns, the Tauren wouldve challenged them to an honor duel without hesitationthough, come to think of it, would such horns actually sell well? Would they? Ugh probably not openly. Theyd likely only show up in black markets as contraband. Harry shook the thought from his mind. Azerothian adventurers always had... unique tastes. Like this kind of thing No, no, Harry, the real thanks is in the profit split! Fred suddenly adopted a rare serious expression. Youve seen it yourselfthis stuff is insanely popular. To be honest, this profit-sharing deal is something not even little Ronnie could get from us. Ron protested from the side, but no one paid him any attention. Exactly, George nodded. We know youre probably not short on money, Harry, but lets be honest: you can never have too much. Who knows when you might need it? Harry sighed. He couldnt argue with that. When he was youngeraround the time he left Thunder Bluff to venture out into AzerothHarry had experienced countless moments where a single copper coin could leave an adventurer in a bind. Sure, those times added a unique flavor to his adventures and even led him to events that shaped Azeroths fate, but honestly? He didnt miss the days of being too broke to afford an inn and having to sleep in a stable during winter. To be fair, the twins profit-sharing terms were pretty generoussomething goblins would never offer. Even as they spoke, Fred and George had to turn away to deal with eager customers placing orders. Considering future organizational needs... Alright, Harry finally said, albeit reluctantly. But I have one conditionyoure absolutely forbidden from selling those glowing cow horns. You can only sell ones that look like cow horns. Damn it, what am I even saying? Oh, no! Harry! Thatll cost us so much money! the twins cried out dramatically. People love those super-cool horns! Absolutely not! Harry quashed their dreams on the spot, his tone resolute. Thats my bottom line. Id rather make less money than tolerate... that bizarre nonsense! Harry was, at heart, a traditionalist Taurenalbeit one of the more open-minded ones. Hed spent his life mediating conflicts between the truly old-school Tauren and the Cairne-affiliated clans. After all, the shaman who guided him onto his path, Magatha Grimtotem, was the leader of one of those staunch traditionalist factions. In short, Magatha Grimtotem was the leader Harry had to reconcile with most often. Thankfully, Harry had done wellhe was considered Magathas prized pupil, and things had remained relatively peaceful over the years. Merlins beard, Harry! Youre as stern as Professor McGonagall, the twins groaned but ultimately relented. Fine, its settlednow eat up! With playful grins, the twins headed off to inform their enthusiastic customers about the changes to the product line, hoping for their understanding. Wait a minute, Fred, George, Ron stepped forward to block his brothers. I think we need to have a chat. Ron looked almost like a mini adultserious and composed. It was hard to tell who he was imitating, but the effort was obvious.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. A chat? Fred and George exchanged glances, barely able to suppress their laughter. You know, little Ronnie, youre doing a terrible job of imitating Dad. Dont call me that! Ron snapped, though a sly grin spread across his face. Mum and Dad they wouldnt want to hear about you sneaking into the Forbidden Forest on the first day of school, would they? Especially with Harry covering for you. So? Fred raised an eyebrow. Give me a pair of horns. I want to be a Tauren too, Ron declared smugly, extending a hand with righteous confidence. Or Ill write home to Mum! He thought he had them. Unfortunately for Ron, he forgot one crucial thing about blackmail: you need to be in control of the situation. The next moment, Fred and George each grabbed one of his arms and hoisted him out of his chair. What are you doing? Let me go! Hey! Harry! Neville! Hermione! Help me!! Ron''s earlier confidence vanished as he kicked and flailed, trying to break free from his brothers grasp. But against Fred and George, now third-years, his struggles were futile. I think we need to have a private conversation with our dear brother, George said, holding Rons arm. He turned to Harry. Oh, go ahead, Harry said kindly, spreading butter on his bread. There arent any classes tonight. Take your time... just dont be too rough. Harry?!! Ron stopped struggling and stared at his friend in disbelief. You cant do this! Arent we friends?! Blackmail is wrong, Ron, Hermione said, her eyes crinkling as she laughed. Exactly, especially when youre blackmailing your own brothers, Harry added, calmly enjoying his meal. He couldnt bear to watch Rons tragic departure. What a pity. Ron was taken away just like that, and by the time he returned to the dining table, his face was entirely red, his clothes slightly disheveled, and he looked utterly embarrassed. "Hey! That was really unfair of you!" Ron grumbled as he sat back in his seat. "None of you even tried to help me!" "Well, they are your brothers, Ron," Neville murmured timidly. "They wouldnt actually hurt you." "And you did get what you wanted, didnt you?" Hermione asked curiously, eyeing Ron''s forehead, where a pair of horns now stood tall and firm. "How did they even do that? I meanthis doesnt look like something students could manage." "I almost wish they had hurt me," Ron sighed heavily and muttered, "Who knows? Theyre absolute geniuses when it comes to pranks. Theyre always coming up with bizarre things. The entire holiday, they were locked in their room, working on who-knows-what." Harry stared at the glowing horns on Rons head, trying to figure out how to destroy them without harming Ron in the process. If necessary, he considered dropping the "without harm" part altogether. "Hey! Harry, dont even think about it!" Ron, perceptive at the worst moments, immediately covered his horns. "Fred already removed the glowing function. They cant even spray ribbons nowthough you wouldnt believe how cunning Fred and George are. They made it so you have to manually refill the ribbons, and they even charge extra if you buy them directly!" Harry averted his gaze. "Wow, thats so cool," Neville said enviously, only to realize Harry was now looking at him. Hastily, he added, "I mean, its cool that they dont glow or spray ribbons! UhRon, can you sell me one too? Id love to be a Tauren." That was pure survival instinct. "Of course, I can get you a discounted price...with the Harry Potter Exclusive Seal of Approval or something," Ron replied eagerly. Hogwarts was about to experience a stormthe storm of Taurens. And Harry could already see the brewing chaos but felt utterly powerless to stop it. He could only hope Professor McGonagall wouldnt be too upset. What Harry didnt know was that, despite his stern warning to Fred and George not to sell the glowing, colorful version of the horns, human nature has a tendency to crave whats forbidden. In secret, the glowing horns had become the most sought-after item among studentseven Slytherins. Even Slytherins! Of course, no one dared let the horns light up in front of Harry. Once again, Harry deeply empathized with Professor McGonagalls sense of helplessness. After allhe really couldnt control what people did behind his back. -- As an ancient castle rich in history, Hogwarts had countless places to explore. Over the centuries, generations of energetic students had added even more mysteries to this already enigmatic place. Under normal circumstances, a student could spend seven years here and still fail to uncover all the castles secrets. Even Dumbledore, after all his years as headmaster, wouldnt claim to know every corner of the castle. Harry appreciated this. His youthful sense of adventure had been reignited. Every class in his first week back was filled with fresh wonders, reminding him of the joys of being a wizard. In his free time, he roamed the castle, searching for its hidden secrets. But now, Harry had to take back something hed said a few days earlierthat Hogwarts professors were all genuinely skilled. Specifically, he had to take it back for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry had skimmed through the textbook for this class. The course was designed to teach young wizards how to handle the dangers of the magical worldwhether from dark creatures in the wild or curses from dark wizards. By all accounts, it should have been an exciting subject. Facing dark creatures and dark wizards? Surely thered be plenty of action. Harry was wrong. After an entire lesson, Harrys strongest impression was that hed been marinatedlike smoked meat. Wanting a good view of the professors demonstrations, hed picked a seat in the front row. But throughout the class, Professor Quirrell didnt demonstrate a single spell. He didnt even pull a McGonagall-style attention grabber. The entire lesson was just him reading monotonously from the textbook. And the smellProfessor Quirrell reeked of garlic, as though hed been steeped in it for days. Harry was nearly knocked out by the overwhelming stench. According to Quirrell, it was a precaution after being pursued by a Romanian vampire over the holidays. "...Honestly, I think you could take him in a duel, Harry," Ron whispered. "I dont know about that," Harry replied, rubbing his tired eyes. "But you two go on ahead. Ive got some questions to ask the professor." "Oh, sneaking in extra study time, are we? And not letting us sit in?" Hermione huffed and stormed off. Ron and Neville lingered, wanting to wait for Harry, but he firmly waved them off. In the end, it was just Harry and Professor Quirrell in the classroom. Quirrell stood behind the lectern, while Harry sat in the front row. "From an astral perspective, your soul shinesvery dimly, Professor," Harry said softly, fixing his gaze on Quirrell. "Like a candle flickering in the cold wind, teetering on the edge of extinction." This was exactly why Harry had sent Hermione, Ron, and Neville away. No matter how unremarkable or garlic-soaked Quirrell appeared, Harry had noticed something unsettling. As a shaman, Harry often viewed the world through an astral lens, perceiving the spirits and energies around him. The astral plane was a higher-dimensional layer overlaying the physical world, like a sugary glaze covering a cake. It connected to realms unknown and served as a gateway for shamans and skilled mages to explore other worlds or observe their own from an elevated perspective. Through this lens, Harry could see truths hidden to othersand Professor Quirrell''s dim, flickering soul was a glaring warning sign. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 29: A Brief Clash and My Request to See the Headmaster
Soul magic, like elemental magic, is also within the Shamans domain of expertise. A skilled Shaman can roam the Astral Plane in their spirit form, walk the mortal world as a soul, and perceive things beyond the sight of ordinary people. Some Zandalari troll Shamans even abandon their physical bodies entirely, existing as pure souls that shift between different vesselssuch as the Spiritbinder, Gara''jal. In the world of Azeroth, Harry had traversed the Astral Plane countless times, and he had even used temporary transitions into the Astral Plane to mitigate damage in combat. In this new world, when he first attempted to summon the spirits of his ancestors, he discovered the existence of a realm solely for the dead. Later, through reading books from the wizarding world, Harry found that wizards had also explored this realm and called it the Veil of Shadows. Many wizards believed that death was not the end but rather the beginning of a new journeya journey into the Veil of Shadows. Given that his previous act of summoning ancestral spirits had caused a disturbance in the Department of Mysteries Death Chamber, Harry decided to hold off on further exploration of the Veil of Shadows until he could ensure his own safety. He had also been continuously testing the compatibility of his spells with this world. Truth be told, he had initially assumed that the Astral Plane didnt exist here, as wizarding books made no mention of a realm resembling it. However, after careful study, Harry realized that the Astral Plane did existit was just incredibly thin and largely overlapped with the physical world. While freely traveling through the Astral Plane as a soul was no longer feasible, observing the real world through it was still possible. Everything in the Astral Plane had a corresponding projection, revealing its true essence and radiating different hues of light. Even roadside flowers or a vase sitting at home had their own projections. This not only validated the Shamanistic belief that all things possessed spirits but also allowed Harry to perceive the conditions of people and objects from a unique perspective. For example, if someones Astral projection glowed red, it indicated they were either emotionally excited or physically full of vitality, their bodily functions operating at peak efficiency. If their projection emitted a green light, it signified a state of peace and harmony, both emotionally and physically, with a stable heart and well-regulated bodily functions. This kind of Astral sight was often used by Shamans and witch doctors within the Horde to diagnose illnesses among their people. Combined with their experience, herbal remedies, enchanted brews, magical potions, and ritualistic magic, they could heal the afflicted. But if a persons projection was extremely dim, their light weak and feeble, it didnt simply mean they were unwellit meant they were truly on the brink of death. Just like the professor standing before him. In Harrys eyes, Professor Quirrell looked as if he were dying. And yet, he was so youngbarely in his thirties. By wizarding standards, where lifespans often reached one or two centuries, he was practically in the prime of his life. Dim, flickering, nearly extinguishedQuirrells soul radiated the weakest light in all of Hogwarts. Even Filch, who spent his nights chasing after students sneaking around and his days tirelessly cleaning the castle, had a more vibrant aura than Quirrell. Moreover, from the moment Quirrell had been alone with him, his Astral projection had been shrouded in deep violet lighta color that only intensified as Harry spoke. This violet light signified extreme vigilance, rationality, and an inner resistance to Harry. I mean no harm, Professor, Harry said sincerely. I simply see someone on the verge of death, and I happen to have the ability to help. Thats all. You are a professor at Hogwarts, and I am a student of Hogwarts. This is a schoolthere is no fundamental enmity between us. A good professor shouldnt look like hes about to keel over before even imparting a single piece of unique knowledge. Harry couldnt help but feel a little exasperated. I-I, I dont think theres anything wrong with me, Quirrell stammered, clutching his books as if he wanted nothing more than to flee the room, but forcing himself to stand his ground. Im in perfect health! Mr. Potter, absolutely healthy!! His voice was firm, his movements nimble, his fingers strong. Yet this starkly contrasted with the feeble, fading state of his Astral body. But your soul is decaying, Professor, Harry stated bluntly. Holding to the principle that a healer should never conceal the truth, he continued, If you trust me, I can use my familys magic to diagnose your condition. We can do it under Headmaster Dumbledores supervisionit wont be dangerous. Harry had seen many people like Quirrell beforepeople who refused to acknowledge their illness until they were already collapsing. But many diseases were invisible in their early stages, and denial only led to tragedy. As a kind-hearted Tauren, Harry couldnt stand by and watch an innocent person march toward death. Sure, Quirrells lectures were just dry readings from the textbook, and yes, his garlic-scented presence was unpleasantbut that was hardly a reason for him to die.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Right now, Quirrells Astral projection was engulfed in violet, mixed with calm blue and even streaks of ominous gray-black, a color associated with hostility and malice. The chaotic hues blended together like a messy, incoherent painting, making it impossible to discern any single emotion. Professor? Harry was growing wary. Beneath his robes, his hand tightened around the grip of his warhammer. Something wasnt right. He had simply wanted to help, acting out of genuine goodwill. He had a favorable impression of Hogwarts and its professors. He had even sent Ron and Neville away because discussing a decaying soul wasnt appropriate for childrenit was, after all, Quirrells private matter. But now, an inexplicable sense of danger prickled at the back of his mind. Had he stumbled upon something Quirrell desperately wanted to hide? Hogwarts only had so many professors. Theoretically, each was among the most skilled wizards in Britain, carefully selected through rigorous screening. There shouldnt be any truly dangerous individuals among them right? Harry trusted Professor McGonagall to be responsible in her role as Deputy Headmistress. So, how do you intend to heal me, Potter? Quirrell finally spoke again, his voice calm, his gaze lowered. I suspect, Professor, that your soul is afflicted with some kind of disease or perhaps a plague. Your body remains intact, yet your soul is withering, Harry stated evenly. I believe I will need to conduct a ritual to properly examine your soul and determine what exactly is wrong. Unless Quirrell manifested his soul in either the Astral Plane or the physical world, Harry couldnt directly see itonly the light it emitted. Soul, Quirrell murmured, as if savoring the word. Such a wonderful such a fascinating concept and to hear it from you, how peculiar, how truly peculiar The Potter family has never been known for researching souls Finally, Quirrell lifted his head. Harry met his eyesthose deep, black pools, as dark as the abyss, as if something inside them was watching him. Something lurking in the depths of his pupils. Something whispering in the corners of his mind. It reminded him of that flash of irritation he had felt upon seeing those glowing, color-changing horns Whoosh! Sparks of blue lightning crackled across his warhammerStorm Weapon enchantment, activated! He didnt know exactly what was wrong, but his instincts screamed danger. Without hesitation, Harry hurled his thunder-charged warhammer straight at Quirrell. Harry trusted his instincts. Crack! A violent burst of electric and wind elements tore through the wooden podium, leaving its remains charred and a blackened crater in the ground. Yet, it didnt touch Professor Quirrell. In that split second, he evaded with an agility far beyond what anyone would expect. "Harry!!!" A crackling whip of bluish lightning reeled the warhammer back into Harrys hand. He could hear Ron and Nevilles gasps from the doorway, but neither he nor Quirrell spared them a glance. The two were locked in a tense standoff, eyes fixed on each other. "Attacking a professor, Potter?" Quirrell was the first to break eye contact. When he looked away, it was as though he had transformed into someone else entirely. Gone was the stammering, hesitant personahe now exuded a calm and unsettling confidence. He glanced at the scorched floor and spoke in a quiet tone, "Perhaps I should deduct all of Gryffindors points for this... and send you straight to Professor McGonagall for detention." "What was that?" Harry ignored the threat entirely, his voice grave. "What just happened? Were you casting a spell on me?" As a seasoned soldier and veteran of countless battles, Harry knew he wasnt someone whod lose focus on the battlefield. Yet, just moments ago, fragmented memories had inexplicably surfaced in his mindmemories not his own. It wasnt normal. It shouldnt have been possible. "Magic always holds endless mysteries, doesnt it?" Quirrell sidestepped the question. With a flick of his wand, the ruined podium and scorched floor seamlessly restored themselves. "Gryffindor, thirty points," Quirrell added, cradling his textbook in his arms and smiling faintly at Harry. "For your inventive magic. I do appreciate talented students. So, as for that little stunt lets call it an overzealous prank, shall we? Im a generous man, Potter, so well leave it at that." Without waiting for Harrys reaction, Quirrell exited the classroom through the back door. "My god, Harry!! You attacked a professor!!" The moment Quirrell was gone, Ron and Neville bolted into the room, their faces filled with disbelief. They looked at Harry like hed turned into some kind of monster, part awe, part terror. Especially Ron, whose gaze kept drifting to the warhammer in Harrys hand, where faint streaks of electricity and wind still lingered. "You heard himit was just a prank," Harry replied with an exasperated sigh. He extinguished the crackling energy on the hammer with a flick of his wrist and hooked it back onto his belt. "I told you two to leave earlier, didnt I? Why are you back? Eavesdropping isnt exactly Gryffindor behavior." Frankly, Harry thought even asking the question was pointlessif Gryffindors were obedient, they wouldnt be Gryffindors. "That didnt look like a prank, mate," Ron said, swallowing hard. "But he he actually gave you points for it!" "And a whole thirty points!" Neville chimed in, his voice brimming with disbelief. "Hermiones going to lose her mind. Shes been answering questions nonstop in class these past few days and barely earned fifteen points!" "Oh, forget the points, Neville. Why bring her up now?" Ron rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Harry, what was that all about?" Ron didnt dare say the words fighting a professor out loudit was just too terrifying a concept. This wasnt like standing up to Malfoy and the Slytherins. Attacking a professor was an entirely different matter. It wasnt just against the rules; it was grounds for expulsion, no exceptions. Even targeting Filch, the castles caretaker, wouldve been unthinkable. "Ron," Harry ignored the question and instead asked, "Is there any magic that can make someone recall past memories?" "Revisit old memories?" Ron blinked, puzzled. "I dont think so." "I mean magic that messes with your mind," Harry clarified. "Something that makes you lose focus or forces you to think about things." "Well, uh Ive heard of something like that," Neville interjected hesitantly, raising his hand as though he were still in class. "My gran used to talk about ittheres a spell called Legilimency. If you make eye contact with someone, you can see their memories, and sometimes theyll see them too but thats just something I overheard. I did see you and Professor Quirrell locking eyes earlier, though. And then, well, you two just started fighting." "My gran always said that after You-Know-Who fell, the Ministry shouldve used Legilimency and Veritaserum to interrogate the rest of his followers so they couldnt weasel out of trials But Professor Quirrell wouldnt use Legilimency on you, would he? Thats illegal" Nevilles voice trailed off into a murmur, but Harry was already piecing things together in his mind. "Lets go," he said abruptly, gathering his textbooks. "Huh? Go where?" Ron scratched his head. "Astronomy class isnt for ages." "The library," Harry said curtly. "And after that, Im going to see Professor Dumbledore." If there was something wrong with a professor, only the headmaster had the authority to deal with it. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 30: Conversation with Dumbledore Harry was no longer the clueless boy who knew nothing about the magical world. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry might sound like just a school, but it held significant social and historical prestige. It not only owned its own land and forests but was also led by a highly respected headmaster. As the headmaster, Dumbledore was essentially the lord of Hogwarts, wielding the highest authority. Harry, on the other hand, was well aware that he was merely a student who would spend seven years here. There was no need for him to overstep his bounds and handle matters that should be dealt with by the school''s lordespecially since the lord hadnt even assigned any tasks yet. A professor whose body was healthy but whose soul was on the verge of decay had cast an unknown spell on a student. Such a matter concerning student safety should be handled by the professors, like Professor McGonagall, who took such issues very seriously. In the library, Harry found records about the spell Legilimency. This spell could essentially be understood as the magical equivalent of mind-reading in the Muggle world. As Neville had mentioned, it also caused the target to relive past memories while the caster was viewing them. Under the current laws of the Ministry of Magic, casting Legilimency on someone without their consent was a crime punishable by a sentence in Azkabanby the way, Harry noticed that many magical laws seemed to punish offenders by sending them to Azkaban, with only the length of the sentence varying. Petty theft might land you in Azkaban for a month or two, more serious crimes for a year or two, and murder would get you a decade or more. Azkaban was like a giant trash bin, where all sorts of criminals were dumped. The headmaster''s office was on the eighth floor of Hogwarts. Harry had gotten the latest password from Professor McGonagall and, under her piercing gaze, left her officeno matter how much she pressed him, Harry insisted on reporting directly to the headmaster. Harry had a feeling his next Transfiguration homework assignment might be a bit heavier. "Password." "Uh... Cockroach Clusters?" Harry said, looking at the stone gargoyle in front of him. The gargoyle jumped aside, revealing a door behind it, and a spiral staircase gracefully descended. Harry''s expression was a bit odd. He knew what Cockroach Clusters werea type of magical candy that scuttled around like real cockroaches. Out of curiosity about magical food, Harry had once mustered the courage to try one. The sensation of it squirming and bursting in his mouth like a real cockroach was... unsettling, to say the least. Did Headmaster Dumbledore really enjoy these? To be honest, Harry had always mentally grouped Dumbledore with Jaina''s mentor, Antonidas. Both were elderly, white-bearded wizards. But now, it seemed he needed to separate the two in his mind. Antonidas, though kind and gentle in demeanor, wasnt as whimsical or open to new experiences as Dumbledore. The idea of Antonidas eating Cockroach Clusters was about as likely as him willingly walking to his death. Ascending the spiral staircase, Harry knocked and entered the headmaster''s office. It was a circular room with walls lined with moving portraits, likely former headmasters of Hogwarts. At the moment, they were all snoringor pretending to snore. Harry could feel their eyes on him, as if they were silently judging him. On either side of the room were slender-legged tables cluttered with strange silver instruments of unknown purpose. A silver incense burner emitted a steady stream of smoke. Dumbledore sat behind a desk in the center of the room, dressed in a silver robe adorned with blue stars. "Harry?" Dumbledore sounded surprised. "I didnt expect to see you. Are you facing any difficulties?" "Oh, if its about your godfather, Im afraid we still need more time. Theres no definitive evidence yet," Dumbledore added, as if suddenly remembering something. "I understand your longing for family, but please be patient, my boy." He seemed to have misunderstood. It took Harry a moment to realize who Dumbledore was referring toin this world, he had a godfather currently imprisoned in Azkaban. But truthfully, Harry didnt feel much about it. If Dumbledore hadnt brought it up, he would have forgotten the man even existed. "No, Headmaster," Harry shook his head. "Its about Professor Quirrell." "Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore straightened up. "You seem to have expected this?" Harry keenly noticed thisDumbledore''s expression turned serious in an instant. "Have a seat, Harry. Would you like some candy?" Dumbledore didnt answer Harrys question directly. Instead, he gestured for Harry to sit across from him and pushed a box of Cockroach Clusters toward him. "No, thank you," Harry declined firmly. "Cockroach Clusters are a bit too sweet for my taste." "It seems youve already tried them. Thats quite adventurous of you," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry with a hint of surprise. He seemed pleased that he didnt have to share his candy. "Now, what have you discovered?" The old man had deftly sidestepped Harrys question, but Harry didnt mind. He was pondering how much to tell Dumbledore and how to phrase it. In the end, Harry decided to be honest. If he wanted to achieve anything at Hogwarts, he couldnt bypass Dumbledorein fact, he might even need the headmasters cooperation and approval.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Honesty was always the best policy. "Do you know about shamans, Headmaster? Shaman priests," Harry asked. "Of course," Dumbledore nodded. "Theyre primarily found in Africa and South America. Many wizards have tried to expel Uagadou from the ranks of magical schools because their students dont rely on wands for magic. Instead, they use hand gestures, fingers, or various ritual dances. If thats the kind of shaman youre referring to, then yes, were talking about the same thing." Uagadou was a magical school in Africa with a thousand-year history and a strong international reputation. Their students found it easy to bypass the International Statute of Secrecy, as they could simply claim they had accidentally waved a finger and cast a spell, often escaping punishment. "Its a bit different, Headmaster," Harry scratched his head in frustration. "The shamans Im talking about arent just distinguished from wizards by their methods of casting spells. In my view, shamans are the balancers of the worlds elements, ensuring that earth, wind, water, and fire remain in harmony, creating an environment suitable for human life." "At the same time, shamans are servants of the spirit, masters of soul power. They can communicate with the departed, listen to the wisdom of ancestors, and draw strength from them. We believe that all things have a spirit." "Clearly, Harry, were not talking about the same shamans," Dumbledore said humorously. "In my experience, shamans are usually dancing around a fire amidst the smoke of burning herbs, not dealing with the... four elements you mentioned." "Generally, the term ''four elements'' appears in alchemy, but the common understanding isnt earth, wind, water, and fireits earth, air, water, and fire. My apologies, I seem to have digressed." Dumbledore seemed quite cheerful, his tone light and airy. "And soul power," his voice suddenly dropped. Gazing into Harrys eyes, Dumbledore said softly, "You must understand, Harry, matters related to the soul are often tabooa word that easily evokes caution and aversion." "Soul magic, I dare say, is instinctively perceived as inherently evil by most people. Its a forbidden art among the living." Dumbledore was very, very serious. "I know, Headmaster," Harry replied calmly, unfazed by Dumbledores stern demeanor. "The path of the soul is indeed perilous. Its easy to be led astray, and thats an undeniable fact." Too many shamans had been lured down dark paths by the voices they heardvoices that masqueraded as the spirits of departed loved ones or the whispers of the elements. "At the same time, I regret that the true path of the shaman hasnt been spread in this world. The elemental forces here have lain dormant for too long, and people are always filled with fear of the unknown." "Neither elemental power nor soul power is inherently evil in my eyes. Even fel magicyes, even fel magiccan be used to protect ones world," Harry said, thinking of the warlocks he knew who lived in the sewers. "The consequences of power depend solely on the user. If the user harbors malice, even the Holy Light can be twisted into something evil." "Oh, Harry, you must forgive an old man of a hundred years," Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. "Youve mentioned so many things Ive never heard of. You must consider an old mans capacity to absorb new informationbut I must say, Im quite pleased." "It seems Ive been granted access to your secrets, havent I?" Dumbledores eyes twinkled mischievously, like a playful child. "The rock giant? And the souls of Lily and James?" Dumbledore was genuinely happy. "Ive never believed these things needed to be kept secret, Headmaster," Harry said frankly. "Im not a naive child who hoards every good thing I find, afraid someone might take it away." "One persons strength is limited. To go further, we must work together with like-minded individuals." Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap. Applause erupted in the headmasters office. Not just from Dumbledore, but from the portraits of former headmasters lining the walls, who had stopped pretending to sleep and were now clapping enthusiastically. "Well said, my boy!" a female headmaster exclaimed. Harry noticed a headmaster dressed in dark green robes, with sharp features and neatly combed hairclearly a Slytherinwho seemed about to say something. But before he could, several other headmasters leaped into his portrait, covering his mouth and pinning him to the ground. Huh, these deceased headmasters were more lively than Harry had imagined. "Pay no mind, my boy," a headmaster wearing a black hat appeared in the foreground of the portrait, blocking the scuffle behind him. He chuckled, "Its rare for a childno, even for many adultsto possess such thoughts. You have a bright future ahead of you." "Indeed, we look forward to the day you join us on these walls," the female headmaster added with a smile. "Well have much to discuss." "Now, now, Dilys, its a bit early for such talk," Dumbledore complained. "I still feel young. I could easily go on for another ten yearsmaybe even twenty." "Come now, Albus," another headmaster in a portrait said bluntly. "Look at yourself. If you really have another ten or twenty years, you should focus on finding a way to have a grandchild. At least dont leave any regrets behind." Dumbledore pretended not to hear. "Alright, everyone, lets settle down. Harry still has much to say," Dumbledore said, looking left and right but avoiding the gaze of the critical headmaster. Sometimes, it was best not to engage in a losing battle. "While your heart is remarkably open, Harry, I wouldnt ask you to reveal all your secrets. Everyone is entitled to their privacy, after all," Dumbledore said gently. "You only need to share what youre comfortable with. So, youve become a... shaman, distinct from the traditional kind?" "Yes, Headmaster," Harry nodded. "I will dedicate my life to maintaining the balance of the elements, reviving the dormant elemental spirits of this world. At the same time, I will serve the spirits of the departed, guiding those who are lost." "It sounds like youve already decided your future," Dumbledore remarked. "It will be a difficult journey, but I believe I have the perseverance to see it through," Harry said resolutely. "I must admit, everything youve said today is entirely new to me, Harry," Dumbledore said after a moment of thought. "Im inclined to believe you, but if the elemental spirits were to awaken, what would happen to this world?" "Wizards would gain access to more powers," Harry mused. "Elemental magic would become more active, and wizards abilities would strengthen. The variety of spells would increase, and the overall concentration of magical energy in the world would rise, making it easier for wizards to cast spells. Oh, and in a high-magic environment, the number of young wizards born would likely increase..." Dumbledore fell silent, his gaze distant. Though he was looking at Harry, it seemed as if he were seeing someone else. "Headmaster? Professor Dumbledore?" Harry called out twice. "Ah, my apologies. Old age makes one prone to wandering thoughts," Dumbledore rubbed his eyes and continued. "It all sounds quite remarkable, very remarkable indeed... Did your teacher tell you all this?" ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 31: Dumbledores Honesty and Longing "The consequences of elemental resurgence are simply my own conclusions based on what I know," Harry shook his head and said. "I have no teacher, Headmaster Dumbledore. To be precise, my teacher does not exist in this world." "Then, how did you learn?" "It was as if I were dreamingventuring, studying, and growing in another world. Yet, when I woke up, I found myself still here," Harry explained earnestly, adhering to his principle of never lying. "It was those dreamlike experiences that taught me everything, allowing me to become a true shaman." Learning in dreamswithin the magical world, such a notion, though initially absurd, actually felt quite reasonable. It was, after all, undeniably magical. Harry had read about such phenomena in magical texts, particularly regarding a legendary figure who left his mark in both the wizarding and Muggle worldsMerlin. According to records, Merlin was the offspring of a nightmare spirit and a human woman. Throughout ancient magical history, there had been numerous instances of individuals growing and learning through dreams. Harry suddenly realized that he seemed to be straying further and further down the path of innate mystical power. "I see," Dumbledore nodded, his gaze deep and contemplative. "As I said before, I am more than willing to believe you, Harryto believe everything you have said and to try to understand it. For now, let us set aside the matter of elemental resurgence, as, by your account, that will be an extremely difficult process." "Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore said seriously, "So, you discovered something abnormal about Professor Quirrell because you are a shaman?" "Yes. I saw that his soul was withering, his aura dimming to the brink of extinction..." Harry stated calmly. From the unique perspective granted by his shamanic abilities, to noticing the anomaly in Quirrells soul during class, to his well-intended attempt to examine and heal the professoronly to be met with fierce resistance and even ending up in a direct confrontation. "That was indeed Legilimency, Harry," Dumbledore affirmed after hearing Harry describe the strange visions he saw when making eye contact with Quirrell. "Your judgment was correct... I never expected that he truly..." Dumbledore let out a deep sigh. "Sounds like you knew something was wrong with him all along," Harry said coolly. "If you knew he was a problem and still let him become a professor, then, as Headmaster, you have been negligent." Harrys words were rather blunt, but Dumbledore showed no sign of anger. He simply stared at Harry, silent for a long moment, before suddenly breaking into a bright smile. A truly radiant smile. "You know, Harry," Dumbledore stood up from his chair, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked to the window. "In the past, I would have told you that what you did was incredibly dangerous, or that you must have been too tired, distracted... In any case, I would have insisted that your priority should be to return to your dormitory and rest properly." "Then youd best not do that, Headmaster," Harry said evenly. "I know exactly what Im doing, and I understand my own situation." "Of course, of course," Dumbledore nodded repeatedly. "I once thought that way, but then I recalled the Sorting Hats advice." "The Sorting Hats advice?" Harry asked, puzzled. Before Dumbledore could respond, a loud voice came from the cabinet behind him. "Thats right! Its me!" The Sorting Hat twisted and wriggled atop the cabinet. "Long time no see, kid!" "Its only been a few days, Hat," Harry waved casually. "But I did enjoy our chat." "I feel the same, kid! If only I could jump down and give you a hugbut alas, I am just a hat," the Sorting Hat declared cheerfully, twisting its brim as if dancing. "Id love to hear how your adventure is going, but I suspect Albus wouldnt be too thrilled to listen in. So, wear me sometime, and well talk in secret!" "Indeed, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts... Hmm, even if I am currently under accusations of negligence, I still cannot sit idly by while a student details his Forbidden Forest adventures before me. Otherwise, Id have no choice but to regretfully deduct points from Gryffindor," Dumbledore remarked humorously as he turned back around. "In any case, it was the Sorting Hats adviceit urged me not to treat you as an ordinary child, but as an adult wizard," Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "If others knew about this, more people would call me senile... I already receive several letters a day about it." "Thats only because that reporter, Rita, is slandering you, and youre acting as if you dont see it, Dumbledore!" Phineas Nigellus Black finally broke free from his frames restraints and complained indignantly. "If I were you, Id make sure she understood the true authority of a Hogwarts Headmaster!" "Oh, Phineas, I believe Rita has long since graduated and is no longer under the jurisdiction of Hogwarts Headmaster," Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "Now, lets return to our topic." "Harry, perhaps in your eyes, this is negligence on my part. But I must tell youProfessor Quirrell was our Muggle Studies professor last year. He was not like this before," Dumbledore sighed. "This year, he applied to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I never expected that in just one summer, things would change so drastically."A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. "Then remove him now and hire a new professor," Harry suggested. "Surely, hiring Hogwarts professors isnt that difficult." "Yes, hiring professors for Hogwarts isnt difficultexcept for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position," Dumbledore looked even more troubled. "There is an unofficial yet widely acknowledged fact: this position is cursed, Harry." "No professor has been able to hold this post for more than a year. Every single one has encountered some misfortune that prevented them from continuing." "As a result, each year, I have to find someone... courageous enough to take the job. And its only getting harder," Dumbledore joked. "You wouldnt believe how many beard hairs I lose over this every year, Harry." A sudden crackling sound of flames echoed in the room. Harry turned to see a bird perched at the doorway, watching him. "Thats a phoenix, Fawkes," Dumbledore introduced. "Looks like shes back from her meal." The phoenix let out a melodious cry in greeting, and Harry nodded in return. Not impressive. At least, not compared to the phoenix in his memories. That one, "Ao," was far more magnificent. It didnt just burnit shone. A mount that doesnt glow is just trash. "So, were just going to let such a dangerous person remain at school?" Harry turned back and asked. "I dont believe a good-natured professor would use illegal spells on students." "I dont know how to explain it to you, Harry," Dumbledore looked tired. "But the truth iswell, I believe... he is not dead yet." Him? Voldemort, Dumbledore said briefly. Although many in the wizarding world believe he is dead, I have reliable evidence that he is still alive. Well, thats just wonderful, Harry said cheerfully. That means I can personally avenge my birth parents, doesnt it? Along with all the suffering Ive endured over the years. ...Hatred is not a good thing, Harry, Dumbledore said in a low voice. But I cant find a compelling reason to persuade you otherwisetruthfully, I believe these past grudges should be borne by those of us from the past. So Quirrell is Voldemort? Harry skipped past the point entirely, as if the decision had already been made and there was no need for further discussion. Stay rational, Harry, Dumbledore shook his head, giving Harry a deep look. Dont forget what I just saidProfessor Quirrell was still a Muggle Studies professor last year, and back then, he was completely normal. So youre saying Voldemort possessed Quirrell? Harry mused. I may not be able to manipulate and harness soul energy like a warlock, but pure destruction is much simpler. Im not sure, Dumbledore sat back down and sighed. I dont know much about Dark Magic, and as for Voldemort he has walked this path with unwavering determination. I dont even know what kind of magic he used, nor whether his current fragmented existence can still be called a soul, or if hes become some kind of unknown remnant. And Professor Quirrell I believe he was merely deceived by Voldemort. Perhaps he can still be saved After all, he was once my student, Harryjust like you, your senior. Dumbledore meant that he still wasnt certain how exactly Voldemort existedwhether as a broken soul, or as some unknown Dark Magic entity. After all, magic was an unpredictable force, and no one could make absolute claims so easily. And before Harry actually attempted to test Quirrell, he wasnt entirely sure eitheryes, shamans wielded the power of spirits, but was Voldemort even a soul anymore? Dragging both Voldemort and Quirrell together to deal with them wasnt an issue for Harry at allkilling was killing, after all. Back in the Astral Realm, Harry had only seen Quirrells astral projectiona chaotic smear of colors, an oil painting so muddled it was impossible to discern its original hues. Thinking back now, that must have been the overlapping astral projections of both Voldemort and Quirrell, merged into an indistinguishable mess. And before extracting Quirrells soul from his body, Harry wouldnt be able to tell what form Quirrells soul had takennor what exactly Voldemort had done to him. Was it direct possession? Fusion? Or was there some magical artifact involved? After all, shamans werent warlocks. Shamans wielded spirit energy primarily by summoning souls and channeling ancestral powerthey were mere summoners, intermediaries, unlike those who treated soul fragments like candies to be consumed. Amplification, curses, distortion, extraction, fragmentation, fusion Warlocks were the true masters of soul manipulation. Yet despite having saved Azeroth so many times, they were still forced to skulk in the sewers, unable to show their facesthere was a reason for that. Their very existence reeked of corruption, and there were always a few soul shards drifting around them. Every time Harry interacted with them, he had to stay on guardno one knew when a warlock might finally step over the line and truly fall into darkness. By comparison, shamanic use of soul energy was far kinder and much more restrained. After all, they summoned the spirits of ancestors and loved oneswho would dare to recklessly tamper with that? This situation left Harry in a bit of a bind, but he could understand Dumbledores concerns now, as well as what he was trying to do. So, the corridor on the right side of the fourth floor? Harry thought for a moment before continuing, And that little package Hagrid retrieved from Gringotts? He was so proud when he told me that only someone Dumbledore completely trusted would be sent on such a task. Oh, but Hagrid is trustworthy, isnt he? Dumbledore blinked. And just as youve guessedI need to confirm his state, to see exactly how far he can go now. Because youre Dumbledore. Because youve defeated the Dark Lord not once, but twice. Because you believe that, in the entire wizarding world, only you can stand against him, Harry continued Dumbledores words. Harry felt he had mostly figured out the mind of this legendary wizardplain and simple, Dumbledore had laid a trap. Dont worry, Harry, Dumbledore said sincerely, his gaze steady. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I have more authority than you can imagineno one will come to harm. It better be that way, Harry stood up. Ill keep an eye on things too. I hope you fulfill your responsibilities, Headmaster Dumbledore. Of course. With that, Harry turned to leave the Headmasters office. Harry? Dumbledore suddenly called out, his voice soft. You said that shamans can summon ancestral spirits, that they can converse with lost loved ones Is that true? Yes, Headmaster. Youve witnessed it yourself, havent you? Harry turned back to answer. And my promise to you has never changed. If you need it, I can perform the ritual for you. No, what I meant to say is Dumbledore hesitated, his expression wavering. Do you think I could become a shaman? At your age, it might be a bit late, but we can still try, Harry gazed into Dumbledores eyes. I would need to find the right materials to reconfigure the Soul Pact Potionthen youd be able to perceive the elements beyond the reach of ordinary people. Do you want to try? I think I may still need some time to consider it, Dumbledore said, his voice tinged with bitterness. Forgive my hesitation once again, Harry. He took a step forward, but in the end, he stopped. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 32: Preparations for the Shaman Club and the Infuriating Riddler "No problem," Harry nodded. "Speaking of which, Headmaster Dumbledore, may I have your permission to introduce the Way of the Shaman at Hogwarts in the future? Similar to the Gobstones Club." "Oh, Harry, I''m afraid Gobstones is hardly comparable to an entirely new branch of magic," Dumbledore remarked with a touch of humor. "In theory, establishing a new course requires approval from both the Board of Governors and the Headmaster. However, a club would not be an issue." "I permit you to teach your Way of the Shaman at Hogwarts, but Harry, I must review your lesson contentat least for the initial sessions, either myself or Professor McGonagall will be sitting in to ensure safety." "That is entirely reasonable, Headmaster Dumbledore. You are always welcome to attend," Harry had no objections. "Then, come to me when you''re ready," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "For the club''s announcement to be made public to all four houses, it will require a professor''s signature. I believe my signature should be quite convincing." "Thank you for your support, Headmaster," Harry smiled. "Additionally, I have another requestmay I move out of the dormitory?" "As a shaman, I require personal space to craft and erect totems, a site for rituals and communion with ancestral spirits, and an area to cultivate certain herbs The Gryffindor dormitory, shared by five people, is simply too small for me." "And where do you envision as your ideal location?" Dumbledore asked. "Near the Forbidden Forest, perhaps. I could be neighbors with Hagrid," Harry answered without hesitation. "It wouldnt disturb anyone, nor would it interfere with my classes in the castle." Dumbledore fell into thought. For a long while. "Im sorry, Harry, but I cannot grant this request," Dumbledore finally said sincerely. "Yes, I can choose to see you as more than just a child. But unfortunately, to most people, you are still a child." "You shouldnt distance yourself too much from your friends, nor isolate yourself from your peers. You would become lonely, Harry." "This is advice from an old man," Dumbledore mused. "Magic is indeed important, but along the path of magical study, there are many other things we must consider and cherish." "I know you possess maturity far beyond your years, Harry. Or rather, every genius matures beyond their years. They grow impatient with the ignorance around them, carry ambitions of changing the world But only after they lose something do they realize what they have missed." "Forgive my rambling, Harry You are still young. Enjoy these seven wonderful years at Hogwarts." Harry met Dumbledores gaze. In those eyes, he saw reminiscence, regret, and sincerity. What Dumbledore spoke of seemed more like his own personal experiencesthe obstacles he hesitated before twice but never managed to cross. "I understand," Harry nodded. "Then, I shall take my leave, Headmaster Dumbledore." He had no intention of arguing over thisespecially not over whether he was still a child. That would only make him seem even less mature. But Harry knew he couldn''t live the school life Dumbledore envisioned for him. Asking an adult to blend in and play along with a bunch of eleven-year-olds was an absurdly difficult task. Even among students, upper years seldom mingled with lower years. Harry didnt want to pretend to be a child. And in truth, even if he wanted to, he wouldnt be able to pull it off. So, he needed to find another way. "Speaking of which, we haven''t discussed compensation yet, have we?" Just as Harry was about to leave, Dumbledore suddenly mused aloud. "Though you did say youd keep an eye on things, I cant, in good conscience, accept a students efforts without offering something in returnyou are not a professor, after all." "Compensation?" Harrys interest was piqued. He raised an eyebrow. "I like that word, Headmaster Dumbledore. Ill consider this an official commission." "Oh, truthfully, Id rather you stop worrying about Professor Quirrell But I know that even if I say that, you wont listen, will you?" Dumbledore sighed. "Regardless, I will ensure your reward is something truly worthwhile, child." Of course, Harry wouldnt listen. Ignoring Quirrell''s presence felt like ignoring a growing infectionan unbearable notion. Even if Dumbledore assured him everything was under control, Harry preferred to keep danger firmly within his grasp. What if something unexpected happened and someone he cared about got hurt? Dumbledore continued speaking. "Until then, I ask that you stop considering ways to move out of your dormitory and simply enjoy school life. Oh, and if you truly crave adventure, you might find the fourth-floor corridor rather interesting."This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Harrys instincts at the Welcoming Feast had been correctthe warning had been an invitation all along. And now, Dumbledore was admitting it outright. Yet the Headmaster refused to reveal any details about the reward, merely urging Harry to wait and anticipate. He was clearly doing it on purposetruly infuriating. Harry was exasperated. He loathed people who spoke in riddles and deliberately strung others along. He left the Headmasters office carrying a lingering grudge, one that would undoubtedly last for quite some time. Meanwhile, behind him, Dumbledore watched his retreating figure disappear down the spiral staircase. His expression had grown heavy, devoid of his earlier playfulness. "Do you really believe everything he said, Dumbledore?" Phineas Nigellus Black blurted out. "If you ask me, hes completely maddelusional! If it were up to me, Id have him locked in the dungeons and strung up until he came to his senses!" "Does he think hes Merlin?!" "I must remind you, Phineas, that Hogwarts no longer punishes students in such a manner," said a severe-looking headmaster in another portrait. "But Albus, do you truly find him trustworthy?" In the solitude of the Headmasters office, the gathered portraits no longer concealed their opinions. "You say he summoned the souls of his parents? I find it hard to believe any wizard could achieve such a featespecially a first-year student," another former headmaster remarked. "Perhaps the ancient sorcerers had such magic, but those arts have long since been lost." "Ah, yes, it is difficult to believe. But I saw it with my own eyes," Dumbledore murmured. "Dilys, do you believe spirits who have passed into the Veil could still influence our world?" Dumbledore suspected that Harry might have fallen under the influence of an ancient souls conspiracy. The corners of his lips turned downward into an expression reminiscent of Batmandeep suspicion. Unfortunately, most of it was hidden beneath his thick beard. "You suspect the boy has been taught by spirits from beyond the Veil?" Dilys Derwent questioned. "Ancient sorcerers?" "After all, Harry truly did venture there. He found his parents souls and brought them back into the real world," Dumbledore sighed. "Magic holds far too many unknowns. Who knows how many geniuses have emerged over the past thousand years? And how far they walked their paths" "At the very least, this ''Shaman'' magic he speaks ofI have never heard of it. Not even in the entire wizarding world," an elderly headmaster added. "It seems to be an entirely different system of magic." "Indeed a different system" Dumbledore murmured, his eyes gleaming with thought. He no longer sought wisdom from the former headmasters. Instead, he fell silent, lost in deep contemplation. The portraits, sensing the gravity of his thoughts, also fell quiet, waiting for his decision. Too similar. Far too similar. Especially when discussing the possible consequences of elemental resurgencethose enticing visions, those grand descriptions and plans for a brighter futurethey inevitably made Dumbledore think of a question he had pondered in his youth The revival of wizards. The path wizards should take in the future The revival of wizards Dumbledore''s gaze drifted into the distance as if he had traveled back in timeback to when that golden-haired boy had stood before him, eyes ablaze with passion, speaking of a future for wizards with such enthusiasm and confidence. The two of them had been just like that For a long moment, silence. "I''m not sure how right he is, but at the very least, his intentions are good, aren''t they?" Dumbledore suddenly spoke, closing his tired eyes. "He cares about the health and safety of an aunt and uncle who were never particularly kind to him. He gets angry enough to throw a punch when someone insults his friends. He worries about the well-being of his professors and about the safety of his fellow students." "I quite liked that thing he said," Dilys interjected suddenly. "That bit about how a person''s strength is limited." "Yes that too," Dumbledore murmured, as if convincing himself. "No matter what No, let it be." He let out a long breath. "Let it be," he repeated with a weary smile. "Lets hope this time, I havent made the wrong choice." As the towering figure of Britain''s magical world, Dumbledore always had more to consider than most. He was exhausted. The night in the headmasters office stretched on, his mind ensnared by past regrets and uncertainties. But none of that had anything to do with Harry. Because Harry was too busy being ensnared by Dumbledores riddles. Fortunately, he wasnt just anyone. As a shaman, Harry could cheat. "Oh, Harry? Youre back?" Ron sat up in bed, looking at him expectantly. "Did Professor Dumbledore say anything?" "No," Harry shrugged. "He said I mustve been too tired or distracted. That Professor Quirrell has been teaching Muggle Studies here for yearshes just new to Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, so he might seem a little nervous or inexperienced." "Basically, past students have given him fairly good reviewsDumbledore suggested we get some rest, recharge, and enjoy school life." Dumbledore had indeed said those words. And he had indeed made that suggestion. Harry didnt like being treated like a child or fobbed off with half-truths when he was with Dumbledore. But when it came to Rona real childHarry found himself doing exactly the same thing only telling part of the truth. "That so?" Ron blinked, then nodded. "Well, if thats what Professor Dumbledore suggests, then we should get some rest tonight." It actually worked. Harry stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Ron, as if staring at a particularly dim-witted troll. "What?" Ron shrank back. "Did I say something wrong?" "No, nothing. Just keep it up, Ronyoure going to sleep well tonight." Leaving the subject behind, Harry sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling out two bowlsone large, one smallfrom his bag and placing them before him. "Hey, Harry, are you doing divination again?" Seeing Harrys setup, Ron immediately perked up and scooted closer. And with him came the other boys in the dormitory. "Divination?" Seamus eagerly leaned in. "You mean the kind Im thinking of? Harry, you can actually do divination? Is it the Gypsy kind? Tarot cards? Or playing cards?" "Oh! You better back up, Seamus!" Seeing him get too close, Ron quickly shoved him aside. "Be carefulyou might blow something up! This is our dorm, remember?" Seamus Finnigana student who had already made quite a name for himself just days into the school year. His reputation? The fact that, despite attending only a handful of lessons, he had managed to cause well, lets call them incidents in nearly every one of them. Some of those incidents were not so small. Though Seamus himself never intended to cause trouble, for some reason, whenever he cast a spell or touched anything remotely magical, something always seemed to explode. "Good point, Seamuswatch out for my bowls," Harry joked. "Theyre fragile." "Hey! Thats unfair! Those were just accidents!" Seamus protested. "Once I get better at it, nothing like that will happen again!" "Forget that for now," Dean Thomas chimed in, just as excited. "So, Harryyou can really do divination?" ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 33: The Riddler’s Downfall and Convenient Divination "Of course its real!" Ron didnt even wait for Harry to speak before answering on his behalf. "Back on the train a few days ago, Harry already predicted that Hermione and I would be sorted into Gryffindorand we really were." Seamus and Dean exchanged glances. "I mean uh, considering both of your personalities, getting into Gryffindor wasnt exactly a tough guess," Seamus scratched his head and said. "You just dont get it!" Ron retorted indignantly. "Harrys divination is a kind ofmagic! You understand? Never mind, youll see for yourself soon enough." And indeed, they would soon understand, because Harry had already begun the ritual. A blend of althaea, sage, and rosemary was set ablaze in a small wooden bowl, yet strangely, no scorch marks were left behind. Wisps of grayish-blue smoke coiled upwards, encircling Harry like serpents before seeping into his nostrils. He let the pungent aroma invade his senses, then guided a thread of his own spirit outward, drawing it into the stone basin before him. Just as Ron had seen before, when the smoke cleared, a rippling veil of water manifested in the center of the stone bowl, revealing A suitcase? "Whats that?" Dean was puzzled. "Harry, are you divining your Christmas present?" "A suitcase," Seamus mused, stroking his chin like a detective trying to appear sagely. "And quite an old-fashioned one at that. Honestly, it looks a bit outdatedsomething my grandparents wouldve used." "I think Harry," Ron looked at him hesitantly, "knowing what your Christmas gift is in advance kind of takes the fun out of unwrapping it, dont you think?" "Its not a gift," Harry sighed. The world had suffered riddlers long enough. After being teased mercilessly by Dumbledores cryptic hints, Harrys first instinct upon returning wasnt even to divine anything about Quirrellit was to find out what exactly his mysterious reward would be. He couldnt help it. Just thinking about it made his curiosity itch unbearably. An absolutely satisfying reward, Dumbledore had assured him, and he had even specifically mentioned that Harry shouldnt worry about moving out and should simply enjoy school life. So that reward was a suitcase? Pressing both hands against the stone basin, Harry poured in more magic, hoping to see more details. The image on the watery surface shifted once more, and what appeared next left Harry momentarily stunned Towering totems stood upright, adorned with patterns and colors so familiar that they tugged at something deep within him. They radiated a sense of raw, untamed beauty. Beside those totem poles stood a wooden house Harry recognized all too well. It was the house that Old Man Cain and Brother Bane had built for hima structure that not only suited his needs but was also distinctly imbued with the aesthetics of the Tauren tribe. His gaze landed on a small break in the eavesa hole, to be precise, one left behind when Bane, playing with him when he was younger, accidentally jabbed it with his horn. Bane had been in quite a predicament back then. His horn got stuck in the hole, and for a long while, he couldnt pull it out. Afraid of damaging the house, he didnt dare use force, which only made the scene more amusing. Many had laughed heartily at his expense. In the end, Old Man Cain had to help him out. At Harrys insistence, the hole had been left there. After all, it didnt let in the wind, and one spring, he even discovered that a pair of sparrows had built their nest inside it. Bane, however, had always been somewhat resentful of that hole, frequently suggesting that Harry should just build a new house instead. His attempts to secretly patch it up had all been foiled, each time ending in failure as Harry caught him red-handed. "Harry?" Ron nudged him. Harry had been gripping the stone basin, suddenly breaking into a smile for reasons unknown. "Where is this place? Does Hogwarts have a spot like that?" "No, its not Hogwarts." Harry shook his head, collecting himself. "At least, not that I recall." Not even Thunder Bluff. For a brief moment, Harry had dared to hope that he was seeing his way back to Azeroth, the world that haunted his soul. But alas, once the initial shock wore off, he realized from the grass and the distant treeline that this was not Thunder Bluff at all. It had to be a house he had rebuilt in this world, which was why it carried so many memories. So this was Dumbledores promised reward? In the end, had Dumbledore really agreed to let him move out? But where exactly was this place? And that suitcase why did it appear in his divination? Harry was now eagerly anticipating whatever it was that Dumbledore had prepared for him. Or rather, at this moment, he was absolutely brimming with excitement. Once Dumbledore confirmed Voldemorts current form and condition, he could finally claim his reward. Until then, he just had to ensure that the students in the castle remained unharmed.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. To be honest, Harry was almost tempted to cheer Quirrellno, Voldemorton, encouraging them to hurry up and step into Dumbledores trap. The sooner they did, the sooner he could receive his reward. "Huh? It disappeared?" Dean had still been curiously observing the waters vision of the wooden house when suddenly, the image rippled like a stone thrown into a lake, distorting into nothingness. "Thats it?" Seamus looked at Harry, dumbfounded. "I feel like I understood nothingso this is divination?" "Sounds about right?" Dean mused. "Think about itprophecies in stories or movies are always cryptic and impossible to understand, right?" "Good point," Seamus nodded. Then, turning to Harry, he asked, "So did you get the answer you wanted? Andwas that really divination? Can I try it too?" He was still skeptical. After all, Harrys method lacked the mysticism and grandeur that made fortune-telling feel sacred and undeniable. "I suppose I did," Harry considered for a moment before replying. "And sure, you can trybut wait a bit. Theres still something else I need to check." "Hey, Harry, you talk about divining the future like its as simple as flipping through a dictionary," Dean couldnt help but remark. "Is your divination even legal?" "Of course its legal!" And the one who answered wasnt even Harryit was Ron, who declared emphatically, "Hes Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived! Theres nothing he cant do!" Having grown up with stories of Harry Potter and having witnessed his power since their first meeting, no one believed in Harry more than Ron. "I think you have some serious misconceptions about me," Harry sighed. "Im just a normal person never mind." Without another word, he rekindled the flames. Thick smoke billowed in the stone basin, revealing another vision Professor Quirrell. The four of them immediately recognized him. But Quirrell didnt look well. His face and upper body dominated the entire scene, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He lay sprawled on the stone floor, gasping for breath. Reflected in the flickering firelight, his face was contorted with terror. The water screen rippled violently once more. Harry hastily poured in more magic to stabilize itbut instead, the image only became more distorted. With a loud splash, the curtain of water suddenly burst apart, sending droplets flying in all directions. Ron and the others were instantly soaked, but none of them paid the slightest attention to such a trivial matter at this moment. Instead, they exchanged glances, their expressions full of uncertainty. "Professor Quirrell is injured?" Seamus was the first to speak. "There''s danger inside the castle!" Dean reacted swiftly. "What should we do, Harry?" Ron turned to Harry and asked, "What were you divining this time? And why diduh, why did Professor Quirrell appear?" He looked as though he wanted to say more but hesitated, stopping midway. "This really is... unexpected." Harry fell into deep thought, remaining silent for a long time before finally speaking under the expectant gazes of his three friends. "Don''t worry about it. Divination is ultimately just a referencewhat you see doesnt necessarily mean it will happen." "Really?" Seamus asked blankly. "But I remember my mother saying that prophecies always come true." "Yeah," Ron swallowed nervously. He looked a little frightened. "They say... they say the Dark Lord''s downfall was because of a prophecy..." For a moment, the dormitory fell into silence. The children were somewhat shakenafter all, they had just witnessed a vision of their professor getting hurt. Meanwhile, Harry was reflecting on whether he might be taking on a bit too much. The shattering of the water reminded him that he still needed to adapt his knowledge of magic to the differences between the two worlds and develop entirely new spells accordingly. This task was especially time-consuming, and there was a real chance that all his effort might lead nowhere. And then there was the matter of Quirrell. The Shaman Club. Researching this worlds herbs to replicate the potions from his memories based on their medicinal properties... The school year had barely begun, and Harry suddenly realized he might be spreading himself too thin. This kind of busy life was definitely not what to wanted. He needed to slow down a bit. "Forget it, dont overthink things," Dean suddenly spoke up. "Don''t forget, we''ve got Dumbledore. As long as he''s here, nothing bad will happen." "Yeah, weve got Dumbledore." "That''s right. That means we dont have to worry." Like a group of multicolored figurines suddenly dyed the same shade of purple, Ron, Seamus, and Dean quickly reached a unanimous agreement. The name "Dumbledore" had a sort of magical power. Harry watched in amazement as the three of them calmed down almost instantly, their worries about the vision disappearing just like that. Magical, indeed. "So, why don''t you try divining for me?" Seamus asked excitedly. "There are a lot of things I want to know!" "Just so you know, for certain reasons, my divinationsaside from the ones I do for myselfcan''t see too far into the future," Harry explained seriously. "So think carefully before you ask." "Huh?" Seamus''s excitement instantly deflated. "Why''s that?" "What were you planning to ask, anyway?" Ron inquired. Seamus had just opened his mouth to answer when he was abruptly interrupted by a noise behind Harrythe dormitory door swung open, revealing a bushy-haired girl standing in the doorway. "Harry? I need to borrow your Transfiguration homework for reference" Hermione''s voice cut off mid-sentence, immediately dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Are you guys divining again?" She certainly acted like she was doing something sneakyquickly stepping inside, shutting the door behind her, and locking it in one swift, practiced motion, as if she were back in her own dormitory. Ron, Seamus, and Dean were left staring in astonishment. "Oh, I hate this rule," Ron grumbled. "Why can girls come into the boys'' dormitory whenever they want, but we can''t go into theirs? That''s so unfairwhy are you all looking at me like that?" Halfway through his rant, Ron finally noticed that the others were all staring at him with complicated expressions. He blinked in confusion. "Nothing, mate," Seamus clapped Ron on the shoulder. "I just think... you''re absolutely right. Completely, utterly right." "Just maybe a bit bold," Dean added, struggling to hold back laughter. "Use that onion-filled brain of yours and think it through, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes as she squeezed onto the seat next to Harry. "If boys could go into the girls'' dorms freely, wouldnt that be dangerous for the girls?" "So, what were you guys divining?" "Harry just finished a divination for himself. Honestly, we have no idea what he saw," Dean shrugged. "The only thing we could make out was that something bad might happen to Professor Quirrell. But with Dumbledore around, there''s nothing to worry about." "Yeah," Seamus chimed in. "So now it''s my turn for a divinationugh, actually, I just wanted Harry to predict the final exam questions for me. Or at least tell me whether Id pass." As soon as he finished speaking, Harry clearly saw Ron and Deans eyes light upwhile the girl beside him, on the other hand, was rapidly brimming with fury. "Thats cheating!!" Hermione hissed angrily, even setting aside her curiosity about Quirrells predicament. "Exams are meant to test our own learning progress! Cheating is meaningless!! And it''s unfair!!" "Dont worry, Hermione, I wont divine anything about the exams," Harry reassured the flustered girl. "Youre rightcheating on a test is irresponsible to yourself." ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 34: Malfoy’s Death In the end, all Seamus managed to divine was tomorrows lunch menu, while Dean didnt even bother tryingafter seeing how anxious Seamus got over his own prediction, Dean decided it wasnt worth the stress. As Dean put it, he didnt want to be left hanging on some prophecy, unable to sleep at night. Well, if it were about the answers to their final exams, he might have given it a shot. But listening to Hermiones lecture on the subject was already exhausting enough, so he figured hed pass. You sure we can actually learn Divination? Seamus asked Harry expectantly. No idea, Harry wasnt about to make any bold claims. I can teach you guys the basics when the time comes. If youve got the talent, youll be able to predict the future. And if we dont, then theres no point trying, right? Hermione huffed, sounding less than amused. Thats just how magic works, Hermione, Harry said with a grin. Her indignant expression was oddly cute. If effort alone determined everything, then it wouldnt be Azeroth resisting the Burning Legionitd be the Burning Legion resisting Azeroth. After all, theres never a shortage of hardworking people anywhere. Azeroth has invaded our world. My noble Eredar brethren reduced to refugees Why am I having dreams like this? Harrys prophecy was proven true the next afternoon when Seamus, wide-eyed with shock, saw his favorite roasted beef and kidney pudding appear right in front of him. For dessert, there were marshmallows and sconesexactly as Harry had foretold the day before. Its real! Harry! Seamus, sporting a pair of dark circles under his eyes, grabbed Harrys arm and whispered excitedly, Your divination is real!! The poor guy had spent the entire night tossing and turning, unable to sleep because of the prediction. By the time morning came, he was so exhausted that he accidentally blew up his desk in Charms class. Uh, waitwas that really just because of sleep deprivation? Well, Seamus insisted that it was, and he made up for it by napping through History of Magic during the second period. Harry soon realized he had underestimated both the speed and creativity of Hogwarts students when it came to spreading rumors. The castle wasnt that big, and the older students had long since lost their sense of novelty. With their days feeling rather monotonous, they relished any kind of excitement. By the time Harry arrived at his first flying lesson in the afternoon, he could already hear whispers from the crowd pointing at him, claiming he had foretold an invasion of Hogwartsprofessors being beaten to the point of coughing blood, heavy casualties everywhere. Harry nearly burst out laughing. What kind of nonsense was this?? Did these kids really have nothing better to do? Would it kill them to spend some time in the library instead? We came here to learn magic! Harry had a bad feeling. If this rumor spread any further, it wouldnt be long before Dumbledore called him in for a talkprobably under the charge of inciting mass panic. So, what exactly have you guys been spreading? Harry sighed, looking helplessly at Ron. Eh? You cant really call it spreading rumors, Ron scratched his head awkwardly, sensing he might have caused trouble. Its just about what you predicted for Quirrell yesterday. I didnt think it would blow up like thisbut Harry, you really can do Divination! And those older students dont even believe you!! I cant stand that! By the time he finished his rant, Ron was fuming. You just spoke for more than three lines, Ron, Hermione remarked dryly. Harrys going to be annoyed. Oh, so you actually remember that? Ron, caught off guard, looked at Harry with a sheepish expression. Sorry, mate, I didnt think itd turn into this mess. Its those upper-year studentstheyre just insufferable! Theyre saying no one can really predict the future. Some even claim that if you do have the gift, all youd be able to foretell is peoples deaths. Uh well, based on what Rons been telling people, Harry did predict someones death Neville hesitated, glancing at the small crowd gathered around the flying lesson area. a professors, no less. Noticing Harrys group looking their way, the older students chuckled among themselves, clearly amused. Dont pay attention to them, Harry, Neville quickly tried to reassure him. Your lunch prediction was right, wasnt it? Hold on, Harry was starting to get a headache. Professor Quirrell isnt dead yetwait, no, even in the vision I saw, he wasnt actually dead. What do you mean by that? Hermione asked curiously. Is there another Seer at Hogwarts who predicted someones death? No idea, they didnt say, Ron shrugged. We might have to ask around. Fred and George could probably find out.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Hey, Potter! Heard you can see the future? Before they could continue, Malfoys voice rang out from the other side. He smirked and taunted, If youre really a Seer, why dont you predict when youre going to fall off your broom? After all, youve never even touched one before. Oh no, Draco, I think he has seen onewhen he was using it to sweep the floors at his Muggle uncles house. Laughter erupted from the Slytherin side. Harry sighed. He was really getting tired of these childish provocations. It was like dealing with an annoying flyone you werent allowed to swat. Dont push me, Malfoy, Harry turned to him. I have no interest in playing childish games with you. I think you already know how hard my punches are. Now it was the Gryffindors turn to laugh. Humans have always loved two things: bloodsport and a good show. This was no different. Rude! Barbaric! Completely un-wizard-like! Gryffindors!! Malfoys pale face turned red with anger as he spat out a string of insults. But to be fair, Harry thought the boys wording was still quite refined. Credit where credit was dueMalfoy had decent etiquette, even if his worldview was completely skewed. Even his insults lacked any real vulgarity, making him far less crude than some adventurers Harry had encountered before. And he was persistent. Despite getting beaten up just days ago, he was already bold enough to provoke Harry again. When Gryffindor and Slytherin were in the same place, it was like fire meeting icesooner or later, something had to change. Fortunately, not today. Madam Hooch arrived right on time, effortlessly separating the two groups. She didnt seem the least bit surprised or concerned about the tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin, handling it as if it were just another routine task. You just wait, Potter! Youre going to fall right off that broom! I hope that pile of scrap metal youre wearing doesnt snap it in half! Malfoy sneered one last time. Honestly, Harry thought, this kid really shouldve been sorted into Gryffindor. It took some serious guts to keep challenging someone stronger after already getting punched. That was bravery, plain and simple. I think hes actually reminding you to be careful about your weight, Hermione whispered as she watched Malfoy leave. Seriously, thoughcan you even fly in that armor? Harry had been wearing his chainmail practically around the clock, except when sleeping. It had become common knowledge at Hogwarts in just a few daysespecially after a group of Slytherins, still salty about what happened on the train, tried to ambush him only to end up unconscious in the restroom. "Of course, no problem," Harry said firmly. "How could a mount not be able to carry someone? And it''s just a magical broom, after allI''ve ridden one before." Dalarans enchanted broom was one of the mounts in Harry Potters collection. He even had a special edition gifted to him by Jainaa meticulously crafted broomstick carved from arcane crystal, exuding an extravagant Blood Elf aesthetic. It emitted a blue-violet glow with twinkling stardust trailing behind, a sight Harry adored. It was truly one of a kind in all of Azeroth. It was leagues beyond those temporary wooden brooms handed out during Halloween celebrations. Harry had once soared through the night skies of Dalaran alongside Jaina, weaving between the towering spires, racing to see who would reach the finish line first. And he had never lost. Honestly, he kind of missed that exhilarating sensation of a steep dive. "Extend your right hand, place it over your broomstickthen say, Up!" Madam Hooch had begun her lesson. Harry simply lifted his hand, and his broom all but leapt into his palm, even rolling a little in his grasp as if eager to be ridden. "Upup! Up!! Come on, get up already!" Beside him, Hermione was repeatedly urging her broom. Seeing that most of the others had already grasped theirs, she grew even more anxious. "Remember how it felt when you cast Transfiguration, Hermione?" Harry reminded her. "You have to command it. Focus. Be determined." "Alright, alrightcommand, right?" Hermione took a deep breath, concentrated, and said, "Up!" This time, it worked. "Is magic always like this?" Hermione muttered, staring at the broom in her hand. "Why does everything require this kind of mindset? Cant it just work properly?" She didnt like the feeling of ordering things around. "I dont know," Harry shrugged. "But most of what Ive learned at Hogwarts works this way." Madam Hooch taught quicklyor rather, there wasnt much to teach in a flying lesson. Whether one had a talent for it or not was immediately obvious the moment they sat on the broom. Malfoy flew quite wellnot quite as spectacular as the way he had bragged for days at the dinner table about dodging a Muggle helicopter on a broomstick, but at least he was steady and proficient. He certainly didnt look like someone flying for the first time. Meanwhile, Harry was getting a feel for the brooms handlingits responsiveness, its agility in turns Then, when he glanced down, he spotted Hermione clinging desperately to her broom, looking like a terrified koala. Hovering about two meters off the ground, she had latched onto the broomstick with every ounce of strength, as if wishing for a few extra hands to grip it even tighter. The sight was so comical that Harry couldnt help but laugh. "Dont you dare laugh!!" Hermione shrieked. Though she was clearly terrified, she still managed to catch his laughter immediately. "Sorry, sorrywatch out!!" Harrys laughter suddenly vanished, his expression shifting in alarm. "AHHH!!" Hermione let out an ear-piercing scream as Malfoy suddenly zoomed toward her, deliberately knocking into her broom. Like a bowling pin struck by a speeding ball, Hermione and her broom were sent tumbling several meters through the air. "Malfoy! Are you out of your mind?!" Surprisingly, the one who shouted wasnt Harryit was Neville. Hovering nearby at a low altitude, the normally timid boy completely shed his usual hesitance. In a rare moment of anger, he looked as if he was about to leap off his broom and punch Malfoy in the face. And then came the second scream. Nevilles broom instantly went out of control. It seemed to interpret his movements as a command for some extreme stunt. Like a cork bursting from a shaken champagne bottle, he shot straight into the skytwelve feettwenty feet! He was still rising! In just a blink, Neville had gone from barely hovering to a speck high in the sky, his panicked screams echoing non-stop. But soon, he couldnt even scream anymore. He could only clamp his mouth shut as the roaring wind stole his breath away. "Oh, heavens! Child!!" Madam Hooch was just as alarmed. She didnt even have time to reprimand Malfoy before mounting her broom and taking off in pursuit. "Hold on!!" Nevilles broom showed no signs of stopping, wobbling erratically as it veered toward the Black Lake. "Ha! Another idiot!" Malfoy looked a little shaken, but not too much. More than anything, he remained utterly devoid of remorse for causing the chaos. Instead, he sneered, "Look what I found!" With practiced ease, he maneuvered his broom lower, skimming just above the ground to snatch up a small, semi-transparent orb. The moment it landed in his palm, the glass sphere turned bright red. A Remembrall. It would glow red if its owner had forgotten something. "Did I forget something?" Malfoy tilted his head, looking mildly puzzled. "Oh well, who careslook at that oaf! He dropped his precious little toy. Did you hear him screaming? How pathetic! Hahahaha!" Gripping his broom tightly, Harry gazed down at Malfoy, his expression ice-cold. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 35: Snape’s Righteous Strike Against Malfoy Shut up, Malfoy! Parvati snapped, her voice sharp with anger. It was clear that Malfoys arrogance had finally worn everyones patience thin. She was a new Gryffindor student as well. Hah! Sticking up for Longbottom? Pansy Parkinson laughed mockingly. I didnt think youd actually like that chubbylook out! Draco!! But it was already too late. By the time Draco registered Pansys warning, he felt as though he had been hit by a runaway carriage. His entire body was flung backward, and a sharp pain shot through him from the impact. Ahh!! His face turned pale in an instant, and Malfoy let out a panicked scream. The sudden collision had caught him so off guard that he hadnt even managed to tighten his grip on his broomstick. He tumbled sidewaysplummeting several meters above the ground! He wouldnt die, of course, but if he actually fell like this, wouldnt he end up as humiliated as that idiot Longbottom?! Instinctively, he reached out, trying to grab onto somethinganythingbut his hands grasped nothing but air. His body continued to fall, downuntil, suddenly, something yanked him back by the waist! Yet, instead of relief, all Malfoy felt was agony. The force was so strong it nearly squeezed the lunch out of his stomach. There was no doubt about itthe one who had knocked Malfoy off his broom was none other than Harry. Clad in chainmail, he might as well have been a solid block of metal, something Malfoy stood no chance of resisting. But for Harry, simply knocking Malfoy off his broom wasnt nearly enough to vent his anger. Gripping Malfoy tightly against his side, Harry yanked up on his broomstick, signaling an upward surge. In the next moment, his broom shot skyward. To be fair, the school-provided brooms werent supposed to be capable of such accelerationbut fortunately, Harry knew magic. A pale blue wind wrapped around him, boosting the brooms speed to an unprecedented level. Then came the dive. If Malfoy still had the strength to scream during the ascent, then during the plummet, he lost even that. All he could do was cling to whatever was within reach, terrified of being thrown off entirely. He wanted to close his eyes. But, to his horror, Malfoy realized he couldnt. Something was forcing them openPotter! Potter had bewitched him! The screams and gasps from below had already merged into a single cacophony, but no matter how loud the collective outcry, it couldnt compare to Malfoys own terrified shrieks. With Malfoy in tow, Harry plummeted toward the ground, so close that Malfoy was certain his skull was about to be shattered against the earthuntil, at the last second, Harry pulled up, skimming just above the grass in a breathtaking glide. After subjecting Malfoy to the most terrifying ride imaginable, Harry finally came to a halt. By then, Malfoy couldnt even scream anymorehe could barely hold onto Harrys leg. Harry let gothen had to give Malfoy a hard punch in the back just to get him to release his grip. The moment Malfoy hit the ground, he didnt even have the strength to curse. He simply collapsed and vomited. Harry Potter! A furious voice rang out, and Harry didnt even need to turn around to know who it wasProfessor McGonagall. How dare you?! How dare you treat a fellow student like this?! she thundered, storming across the grounds from the castle entrance. You could have broken your necks!! But Harry paid no heed to McGonagalls anger. He merely cast a cold glance at Malfoy, who was still retching on the ground, and said, Dont let me catch you bullying my friends again, Malfoy. You should be grateful youre still a kidand that this is a school. Otherwise Truth be told, Malfoy, in Harrys eyes, was nothing more than an untrained brat. Taking him too seriously would only be an embarrassment to Harry himself. But that didnt mean Harry would tolerate him tormenting his friends. Nor would he dismiss it as mere childish squabbles. Because, as Dumbledore had once saidno matter what, to most of the world, Harry himself was still just a child. So, it was best to make the lesson count. HARRY POTTER!!! McGonagalls fury only intensified as she overheard Harrys parting words. What do you think youre doing?! That was a threat! That was intimidation!! Perhaps you should hear what actually happened first, Professor, Harry said calmly, his earlier anger nowhere in sight. Malfoy did something unforgivable. I had to make sure he understood the consequences. By now, the other students had gathered around. Thats right, Professor McGonagall! Parvati chimed in. Malfoy rammed into Hermiones broom! She nearly fell! And he insulted Neville, too!Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Yeah, yeah! The Gryffindors all began shouting over one another, condemning Malfoys behavior. As for the Slytherins well, given that Malfoy was still on his knees vomiting, and given the way Harrys gaze swept over them, none of them dared utter a word. Enough! Quiet, all of you! McGonagalls glare was as sharp as a blade. Silencing the crowd, she turned back to Harry and Malfoy. Come with me, Mr. Potter. You too, Mr. Malfoyare you able to walk? Mr. Potter, help him up and follow me. Can I refuse, Professor? Harry asked without hesitation. I have no interest in helping my enemy. Besides, he wet himself. It smells awful. The Gryffindors burst into even louder laughter. He is not your enemy, Mr. Potter! McGonagall snapped. He is your classmate! The moment he started tormenting my friends, we became enemies, Harry replied evenly. And I warned himI have no interest in playing childish games. But he didnt listen. So you decided to teach him a lesson? McGonagalls headache was worsening. You are a student, Mr. Potter. You do not have the authority to punish your peers. If a professor had been around to stop Malfoy when he rammed into Hermione or mocked Neville, none of this would have happened. Harrys meaning was clearthere had been no professor present when it mattered. Im sorry, Professor, its all because of me Hermiones eyes were red, on the verge of tears. It wasnt a coincidenceMcGonagall had the distinct feeling shed heard something similar not too long ago. "Enough! Be quiet, Mr. Potter. And you too, Miss Grangerits not your fault." Taking a deep breath, Professor McGonagall turned around. "Mr. Crabbe? Youll help support Mr. Malfoy. The rest of youcome with me." With a glance, Harry signaled to his Gryffindor friends not to worry. Even in the face of an angry Professor McGonagall, he felt no panic, his steps steady and composed. Professor McGonagall led the three students straight into the castle, heading directly to the dungeons. At the far end of a corridor, she knocked on a door. Before long, it creaked open just a sliver, revealing Snape standing there, cloaked in black. "Professor Snape?" McGonagall stepped aside, exposing the three students behind her. "If you have a moment, I believe there are some matters that require your involvementseeing as you are the Head of Slytherin House." "Of course, I have time." Snape pulled the door open fully, his gaze locking onto the students. "What happened?" "You wouldnt believe it." McGonagalls fury had yet to subside, and she spoke quickly, voice low. "From a window in the castle, I saw Mr. Potter riding his broomstickcarrying Mr. Malfoysoaring high before diving straight down. At one point, they were skimming mere inches above the groundMalfoys face was no more than ten centimeters from the earth!" "Regardless of the circumstances, Mr. Potters retaliation was excessive. They both could have broken their necks!" McGonagalls anger flared. "According to the students, this all started because Mr. Malfoy rammed Miss Granger with his broom and mocked Mr. Longbottom. Mr. Potter intervened on behalf of his frie" "IM GOING TO HAVE MY FATHER EXPEL YOU!!" The sudden outburst cut McGonagall off. Whether it was because he had finally caught his breath after the near-death experience or because he was emboldened by the sight of his Head of House, Malfoys face was no longer pale but flushed red with rage. "You lunatic, Potter! You nearly killed me! This time, I swear, my father will have you expelled! Just wait and" Malfoys rant came to an abrupt halt as Snape gave a slight flick of his wand. Malfoys lips sealed together instantly, leaving him able only to make muffled noises. "Do as you please," Harry said indifferently. "Id actually love to see how a Death Eater and a Death Eaters son plan to expel me. The Daily Prophet would have a field day with that story." "Mr. Potter!!" Professor McGonagall was livid. "There are no Death Eaters! And no Death Eaters son! And just how do you know about this?!" The answer, of course, was HagridHagrid, Harrys first friend in the wizarding world. Someone truly worthy of trust. "I see," Snape drawled, his voice slow and deliberate. Under Malfoys expectant gaze, he continued, "So according to you, Professor McGonagall, this entire incident happened because Draco was both foolish and incompetent in his provocationsresulting in Harry nearly falling off his broomstick and breaking his neck?" McGonagall: "" Was that what she had meant? Thinking back over her words, McGonagall was fairly certain she had been impartial. Malfoy had indeed provoked first, but Potters retaliation had clearly gone too far and warranted punishment. So why did it sound so different coming from Snapes mouth? "Thats right, Professor," Harry said after a moments thought, his tone sincere. "I even warned him in advance not to bother me." "Excellent." Snapes expression remained far from pleasedif anything, the dungeon seemed to grow colder. His voice was icy. "Slytherin loses fifty points." "For your sheer stupidity and reckless arrogance!" Snapes black eyes bored into Malfoys, his presence like a looming, predatory bat. "I will be writing to your father, Draco. If you cannot learn in school what is and isnt acceptable behavior, then perhaps he ought to take you home." Tears welled in Malfoys eyes. He let out a series of desperate, muffled noises, undoubtedly trying to protestbut with his mouth sealed, no words escaped. "I dont think this warrants such severe punishment," McGonagall said stiffly. "Butfine Gryffindor loses fifty points." It was clear McGonagall was reluctant. Initially, she had only intended to deduct a handful of points from each student and issue detention. But now that Snape had deducted fifty from his own House, how could she back down? Her worst fear had already come true. Gritting her teeth, she marked the deduction, then shot Harry a sharp glare. Harry, for his part, felt rather innocent in all of this. "Thank you for bringing them, Professor McGonagall," Snape said, ignoring Malfoy entirely. "You may leave them hereI will see to their discipline personally." "As Head of Gryffindor, I believe it would be best if I handled Mr. Potters punishment myself," McGonagall said, her face rigid. Truthfully, she strongly suspected that if she left Harry here, he wouldnt be punished at allhe might even be treated to a nice, warm potion. "A shame," Snape said, looking less than pleased but making no further argument. Instead, his attention shifted to Harry. His voice softened, turning almost contemplative. "Your mother had a remarkable talent for Potions. Perhaps you inherited that gift Tomorrow is your first Potions lesson, after all." "Of course. I wont disappoint you," Harry replied knowingly. He understood Snapes unspoken message. Alchemy and herbalism went hand in hand, and while blacksmithing was more of a hobby, Harrys true expertise lay in potion-makingat least, by Azeroths standards, where alchemy encompassed the crafting of various potions. "Very well." Snape gave a slight nod of approval before turning his gaze back to Malfoy. "As for you, Draco, step inside. I believe I have the perfect task for your punishmenthow does collecting Flobberworm mucus sound?" Malfoy looked utterly devastated as he was dragged into Snapes office. The door shut behind him. Crabbe, the pudgy little coward, took off running. That left only Harry and Professor McGonagall standing in the corridor. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 36: McGonagalls Obsession and My Aspiration to Be a Professor! "So... can I leave now, Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked after a moments thought. "Absolutely not, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "Dont think for a second that I will treat you the way Professor Snape does with favoritism." To be honest, even McGonagall herself found those words a bit oddsince when had Snape ever shown favoritism to a Gryffindor? That would be like something out of a dream. "Your punishment is to copy the school rulesfive timesevery Saturday evening in my office. I believe this will help you understand what is and isnt acceptable behavior," McGonagall said sternly. "Now, come with me." "Yes, Professor," Harry nodded obediently. Truthfully, Harry felt a bit wronged. He wasnt some troublemaker who played pranks just to get attention, yet for some reason, trouble always seemed to find him. It had only been four days since the start of the term, yet he had already seen an angry Professor McGonagall multiple times. He couldnt help but worry about the Vice Headmistresss health. "Speaking of which, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said suddenly as they walked up the stairs, "protecting your friends is certainly the right thing to do, but even the right thing must be done the right way." "I doubt Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom would be pleased to hear you were sent to Azkaban for breaking someones neck." "...I''ll be careful, Professor." In reality, teaching Malfoy a lesson had never posed any real danger. Everything had been under Harrys control. But there was no need to argue with the professor about this. McGonagalls advice was well-intentioned. As he glanced at McGonagalls back, Harry wonderedif such words had come from this stern and traditional professor, could they be interpreted as a subtle form of praise? After all, besides being Hogwarts Vice Headmistress, she was also the Head of Gryffindor House. They walked in silence for the rest of the way. McGonagalls destination turned out to be quite farshe led Harry up several flights of stairs, through corridors and doorways, before finally handing him over to a tall, broad-shouldered Gryffindor student. "Take him, Wood," McGonagall said, almost through gritted teeth. "And make sure Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup this year!" "Huh?" The older Gryffindor student looked utterly confused. "This boy flies like an enchanted broomstick," McGonagall took a deep breath, recalling the scene. "He soared over fifty feet into the air with a Slytherin student under his arm, then dived straight down, only to pull up at the last second and level off just inches above the groundwithout a single scratch. Potter, was that really your first time on a broom?" ...Harry was starting to understand what McGonagall wanted him to do. But honestly, compared to copying school rules, this hardly felt like a punishment. He had read about Quidditch, the most beloved sport in the wizarding world, in books before. Meanwhile, the upper-year student named Wood had begun staring at Harry with a fanatical gleam in his eyes, as if he were gazing at a breathtakingly beautiful woman. "Seriously, Professor McGonagall?!" Wood practically shouted in excitement. "Of course. I saw it with my own eyes," McGonagall said decisively. "Even Charlie Weasley couldnt pull off something like that, could he?" Wood nodded fervently, circling Harry and eyeing him up and downmaking Harry somewhat uncomfortable. Back when he was just a naive adventurer, his lack of experience had led to him being sold into a gladiator arena. The slave traders had inspected their merchandise in a similar manner, even prying open mouths to check their teeth. "Uh, Professor?" Harry raised his hand hesitantly. "If this is supposed to be a punishment, could I possibly get a different one? I''d rather use my free time to study magic. After all, I only have seven years at Hogwarts." "Silence, Potter," McGonagall shot him a sharp glare. "Professor Dumbledore told me that if I had anything to say to you, I should be directso I will." "Gryffindor has lost the House Cup for six years straight. Think about the fifty points you just lost todayhonestly, Ive given up hope for the House Cup this year." That was said in frustration. Dont take it to heart. Seriously, dont. "But what I cannot tolerate," McGonagalls voice grew sharper, "is the fact that Gryffindor hasnt won the Quidditch Cup in four yearsfour entire years!" Wood lowered his head in shame. It was clear that McGonagall cared deeply about Quidditch. "Train hard, Potter!" McGonagall said sternly. "Or else Ill reconsider your punishment and make it worse." "I dont mind, but Professor," Harry hesitated, trying to find the right words, "my concern is that if I join a student sport like this it wouldnt be fair to the other students." Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "Youre a student too, Potter," McGonagall patted his shoulder. "If you insist on making such arrogant statements, then prove your worthwin Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup first." "Thats right, Harry!" Wood enthusiastically threw an arm around Harry. "If anything, Id love for you to be as unfair to the other houses as possiblecrush them!" "Alright, Ill do my best," Harry sighed. Considering the fifty points he had lost today, Harry felt he couldnt exactly refuse McGonagall in her current stateQuidditch seemed to have become her obsession, especially after realizing that the House Cup was likely out of reach this year. "Your father would be proud of you," McGonagall suddenly smiled, seeing Harrys lack of enthusiasm. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself." "My father?" Harry murmured softly, his gaze flickering. After McGonagall finished explaining the historical significance and importance of winning the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor, she finally left. Harry, on the other hand, arranged with Wood to schedule a trial session. Wood was convinced Harry was a natural Seeker, but Harry insisted on trying all positions first to see which one he enjoyed the most. When he returned to the Gryffindor common room, Harry was greeted like a hero. The gemstones of Gryffindor and Slytherin had almost simultaneously hit rock bottom. Initially, students from both houses were naturally furious. However, it didnt take long for word to spread about what had happened during the first-year flying lesson, and just like that, the Gryffindors stopped being angry. Oh, so our Harry Potter got into it with Slytherin again? Well then, thats fine. Thats actually great. As a result, the only ones left fuming were the Slytherinsbecause, according to the frontline reports, they had lost, and quite miserably at that. The fact that Malfoy had been so terrified he wet his pants made Slytherin the laughingstock of the school. Now, they truly had no way of holding their heads high in front of Gryffindor. When Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, he had barely finished saying the password before the Fat Ladys portrait swung aside and multiple arms reached through the entrance, pulling him in. A wave of enthusiastic cheers erupted. Harry could hear people shouting his name, loudly praising his spectacular Wronski Feintthough, to be honest, Harry himself had no idea what that maneuver even was. Amid the crowd, he spotted Hermione and Neville, both flushed red, stepping forward to meet him. Thank you, Harry, Neville said, his face still tinged with embarrassment. I heard from everyoneyou punished Malfoy for me. Thank you! He got what he deserved. Dont worry about it, Neville, Harry said, giving him a once-over. Youre not hurt, are you? No, I just fell into the Black Lake, Neville admitted sheepishly, scratching his head. Luckily, the giant squid carried me to shore, and Madam Hooch took me to the hospital wing for a dose of Pepperup Potion. Oh! And HermioneHermione has something to say too. Neville stepped aside, and Hermiones response was much more direct. THANK YOU!! Her shriek nearly burst Harrys eardrums. She lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck in a forceful hug that almost twisted his throat. Then, as if suddenly realizing what shed done, she ducked her head, covered her face, and bolted straight to the girls dormitory. The cheers in the common room grew even louder, accompanied by an endless wave of whistles. Harry rolled his shoulders and gave a slightly helpless smile. Thinking about it, from the perspective of these kids, it did seem like he had heroically stepped in to defend Hermione and Neville from Malfoys bullying today. The classic hero saving the damsel scenario seemed to be popular at any age though Neville was a bit unfortunate in all this. Thanks to the crowds selective storytelling, his role in the tale had been significantly downplayed. But honestly, Harry had never thought about it that way. To him, they were all just kidswho would have any other thoughts about a child? And if someone did, Harry would personally use his warhammer to smash that persons skull in. The celebration continued, with more students joining in. At some point, the older students had somehow procured butterbeer, claiming it was to commemorate yet another victory of Gryffindors Bull-Headed Lion King. Harry even got a cup himself. It tasted pretty good. Despite being called beer, it was a completely non-alcoholic drinkrichly sweet, with a strong milky aroma and the crisp fragrance of malt. Harry would give it full marks. It was now officially added to the Minotaurs exclusive beverage list. By the time Harry finally managed to slip away from the crowd, he had already overheard several exaggerated versions of Malfoys defeatsome claimed Malfoy spun through the air like a Quaffle while throwing up, others said he was caught mid-spin in a sudden downpour Frankly, Harry was getting a little tired of it. Why did Gryffindor students always take their imagination in such a gross direction? So not only were you not expelled, but youre also joining the House team? In a corner of the common room, Ron swallowed his mouthful of butterbeer and widened his eyes, practically growling, That has never happened before! I swear, Harry, you always manage to pull off things no one else can! Yeah, Harry figured he wouldnt get any other kind of reaction from Ron. Honestly, its a bit of a time sink. Id rather spend more time in the libraryHogwarts has an enormous collection of books, and theres even the Restricted Section, Harry said with some regret. I wonder if I can finish reading everything before graduation. Considering the path he intended to take, Harry believed it was necessary to go through the entire library and fully absorb its knowledge. Only then could he learn from different disciplines and find a way to adapt the magic he had mastered in Azeroth into a form suitable for this worldwhether through refinement or fusion. At the same time, Harry hoped this process would give him an answerif he wanted to rebuild the Earthen Ring in this world and restore the power of the elements, how could he gain the recognition of wizards? How should he proceed? How should he operate? There were far too many details to handlethis wasnt something that could be accomplished just by shouting a few slogans. Oh, this is the only time you dont sound like a Gryffindor, Harry. You sound more like a Ravenclaw, Ron muttered. Besides, just because you graduate doesnt mean you cant come back and read in the library. You just need to become a professorwell, except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. I heard that job is cursed. Ron said it casually, but to Harry, it was like a sudden revelation. Rightwhy couldnt he become a professor? Not after graduation, like Ron was suggestingthat would be too late. No, he could become a professor during these seven years. To be honest, Harry had wanted to access the Restricted Section for a long time. The only thing that had stopped him was his ingrained respect for the law. As a well-known figure in Azeroth, Harry had always adhered to the local laws and regulations when traveling. Because he understood the necessity of maintaining order. Sneaking into the Restricted Section was no different from breaking into another wizards tower to steal their booksan act of blatant provocation. Could you imagine someone sneaking into Karazhan to browse Medivhs collection while he was still alive? Or secretly reading an archmages treasured tomes in Dalaran without permission? If caught, that was the kind of offense that would get someone killedno mercy, no second chances. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 37: Gryffindor, Twenty Points! Alright, the main reason was that after witnessing how fiercely wizards guarded their personal collections, Harry wasnt entirely sure how well Dumbledore, the master of Hogwarts, protected the books in the Restricted Section. Besides, books that were placed in the Restricted Section obviously had their reasons for being there. They were definitely not suitable for the average student. Considering his apparent age and how Dumbledore might react... Harry really didnt want Dumbledore to get the idea that he was plotting to become the third Dark Lord and then go all out to counter himhe just wanted to spread the way of the shaman and revive the elements, thats all. No malicious intent whatsoever. So, he might as well take the proper route. Becoming a professor would even allow him to bypass all the restrictions placed on students, giving him legitimate access to the books in the Restricted Section. After all, given his level of intellect, the books currently available to first-year students were far too elementary for him. At Hogwarts, students of different years had different levels of access to library materials; the higher the year, the fewer the restrictions. Madam Pince, the librarian, had eyes sharper than a hawks and kept a strict watch over this rule all day long. Harry fell into deep thought, contemplating the feasibility of this plan and how to go about it. Naturally, the course he would teach wouldnt be Defense Against the Dark Arts, but rather his old professionShamanism. Thinking along those lines, the idea of a Shaman Club suddenly seemed rather trivial... No, not exactly. At the very least, it could help him build some reputation among the students and let them see that he had real skills. That way, when he eventually introduced a new course as a professor, the students wouldnt be completely lost or resistant to it. The more Harry thought about it, the more he saw potential in this idea. If he could become a professor while still in school, he could start cultivating allies early on, selecting promising students suited for shamanic practices, and assessing their character and abilities. That way, when the time came for him to leave Hogwarts and establish the Earthen Ring, he would already have a group of capable followers. It was practically perfect. To be fair, if someone else had come up with this idea, Harry would have found it unlikely. But if it was himself... Well, he did have a solid foundation of prestige to work with. It all came down to this: the name Harry Potter held great sway in the wizarding world, and the existence of magic made this community particularly superstitious. So what Harry needed to do was simplekeep reinforcing that influence, making wizards feel that what they had always believed in was true. There was no need to break their illusions. Something likeAh! See? I was right all along! Harry Potter was never meant to be an ordinary person! Harry fully understood now. This wasnt about cunning, selfishness, or manipulation. Even the most mild-mannered Tauren would give their all for their ideals and goals. Tauren werent slackers. They never believed in merely going with the flow. After all, the Tauren had no ill intentions. When Harry first came to Hogwarts, his sole purpose had been to study the magic of this world, so he had no interest in mingling with the other children. But now, things were different. If he originally joined the Quidditch team out of obligation to Professor McGonagall, then now, he was playing to quickly amass prestigewithout breaking the rules by using magic to cheat, of course. Other than that, he was determined to go all out. Building prestige was as normal as it got. Ultimately, the goal was simple: make everyone react to him the way Ron did! With that in mind, Harry glanced at Ronhis mouth was stuffed with pastries, and he was gulping down butterbeer. ...What? Ron mumbled through his full mouth, looking puzzled. Honestly, Harry, youre looking kinda weird right nowalmost like a Slytherin. The kid could be oddly perceptive sometimes. -- First-year students only had two Potions classes per week, both scheduled for Friday morning. And, convenientlyor notthose were the only classes they had that day. Maybe it was to give the Potions professor ample time to keep struggling students after class, so they could spend the entire afternoon and evening brewing until they got it right. Potions class was held in one of Hogwarts underground classrooms. Unfortunately, it was another joint session with Slytherin. The events of yesterdays flying lesson were still fresh in everyones minds, as was the fact that both Gryffindor and Slytherin had lost House points. To be honest, the upper-year Gryffindors had already warned the first-years during last nights celebration in the common room about what to expect today. Things likeSnapes nitpicking, Snapes sarcasm, Snapes incredibly sharp wordshe just wanted to provoke you so he could justify taking away more points. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. That was just how Snape was. As the Head of Slytherin, he was nothing less than an annoying, hateful old bat to Gryffindors. Especially since Slytherin had lost face yesterday. The old bat was bound to be in a foul mood and would definitely take it out on them today. The older students had shared countless horror stories of Snapes past deeds, scaring the first-years half to death. In fact, most of them had come to class today fully prepared to die, swearing to themselves that no matter what Snape said, they would not react. Harry had wanted to say something in Snapes defense, but years of firsthand experience from upper-year students were simply too convincing. There wasnt much he could do. As the main participant in yesterdays conflict, Harry had been repeatedly advised to keep his cool and not lose his temper. Honestly, the tension in the Potions classroom was already thick before class even started. Maybe it was because they felt like they were finally on home turf, but the Slytherins, while not overtly aggressive, were clearly taunting the Gryffindors. Except for Malfoy. Did he know something? Or had he realized that Snapes attitude toward Harry was different from how he treated regular Gryffindors? Unlike his housemates, who were eager to see Snape put Gryffindor through hell, Malfoy didnt look the least bit excited or expectant. He just sat there expressionlessly, completely disconnected from his surroundings. It was clear that Malfoy was being isolated. The only ones still sitting with him were Crabbe and Goyle. Snape entered the Potions classroom right on time. Today, he wasnt just wearing a new robe (still black, of course), but his hair was noticeably neater and cleaner than usual. This confused some of the first-years. According to what the older students had said yesterday, Snape was supposed to be a greasy-haired, unwashed mess. Yet today, as Snape strode into the classroom, billowing his robes, those sitting closest to him swore they caught a faint scent of soapnot overpowering, but subtly clean and fresh. Like Professor Flitwick, Snape also began his class with roll call. He went through the names quickly, and once he confirmed that no one was absent, he set the roster aside. "You are here to learn the precise science and exacting art of potion-making," Snape said swiftly and in a low tone. His voice wasnt loud, yet every student could hear him clearly. It was somewhat reminiscent of Professor McGonagallwithout much effort, Snape maintained order in the classroom, keeping even the most unruly students in check. "Since there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I do not expect you to truly understand the subtle beauty of a simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, ensnaring the senses and bewitching the mind I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in deathprovided, of course, that you are not the usual bunch of dunderheads I so often have to teach." By the time he finished speaking, it wasnt just the Gryffindors even the Slytherins were a little intimidated, holding their breath and not daring to make a sound. To be fair, Harry could understand why Snape deliberately created such an atmosphere. The Potions classroom itself was set up to be as eerie as possibleshelves lining the walls held jars of various sizes, filled with unknown animal organs and strange specimens, while the entire room was bathed in a dim, eerie green glow. It was all just to scare the first-years a little. After all, based on Harrys experience with alchemy, the real danger in this field was losing ones sense of caution and vigilance. Every year, there were cases of apprentices accidentally turning healing potions into poison and killing themselvesit wasnt even uncommon. And first-year students well, especially those from Muggle families, were at an age where ignorance and recklessness went hand in hand. Some of them would genuinely dare to brew a potion and drink it themselves. "Hes really amazing!" Hermione whispered excitedly beside Harry. "I did some research on all our professors'' achievementsProfessor Snape is the youngest Potions Master in the entire wizarding world! Hes improved many traditional potions and even wrote The Nature of Potions, which is supposed to be incredibly profound. He became Hogwarts Potions Professor almost immediately after graduating!" In the otherwise silent classroom, even whispers stood out, and Harry had already noticed Snapes sharp gaze flicking toward Hermione. "But most importantly, hes a gifted teacher, Harry!" Hermione continued, undeterred. "Its said that if you attend Professor Snapes Advanced Potions class, theres a high chance youll be invited to join the Extraordinary Potioneers Society after graduation!" Well, Snapes gaze had moved on. "Potter?" Snape suddenly called out, his voice soft. "What would I obtain if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" "A powerful sleeping potion, Professor," Harry replied. "Also known as the Draught of Living Death. Its sold in Diagon Alleys apothecaries for one Galleon per bottle." "That is the work of mediocrity," Snape shook his head slightly. "A true Potions Masters Draught of Living Death starts at ten Galleons a bottle." "Ill do my best, Professor." "Good." Snape gave a look of apparent satisfaction. "How can one maximize the effects of dittany?" "For shallow wounds, consuming it raw is sufficient, but extracting it into an essence enhances its healing properties." "What do you know about Murtlap tentacle essence?" "Its used to treat cuts and abrasions and can soothe the pain from such injuries, but it must be properly filtered before use." "" The exchange between Harry and Snape was rapid, with each question immediately met with an answerthere was no hesitation, no need to pause and think. For most students in the classroom, their conversation had already veered into completely incomprehensible territory from the very first question. But for Hermione, who had studied the first-year textbook in advance, it was a different story. At first, she could still keep up, recognizing the topics from her studies. But Snapes questions jumped rapidly between subjects, quickly surpassing anything she had read. Before long, he had moved on to topics she had never even encounteredeventually reaching questions like: "What are the consequences of overdosing on Veritaserum?" "As for the methods of treatment and symptom relief, I dont know yet, Professor," Harry admitted, shaking his head. "With my current level of knowledge, I can only describe the effects it has on the victims body." "That is sufficient." Even the Slytherins, reluctant as they might have been, had to admit that the expression on Snapes face at this moment could only be described as pleasedthough very subtly so. He quickly pressed his lips together, smoothing out the expression before it could linger too long. "Gryffindor, twenty points," Snape said, almost regretfully. "For your advanced knowledge. I would have given you more, but Professor McGonagall doesnt seem to approve of such generosity from me." Then, suddenly, Snape turned on the rest of the class, his tone sharp and demanding. "Why arent you all writing this down? Have you already mastered it?" A flurry of movement followed as students scrambled for their quills and parchment, the sound of frantic scribbling filling the air. The Potions lesson continued. Per Snapes instructions, the students were split into pairs to brew their first potion. For their first-ever Potions class, todays assignment was a simple Cure for Boilsuseful, really, given that Hogwarts was full of students, and children were particularly prone to skin conditions. It probably wouldnt be long before these potions found their way back to the first-years Assuming, of course, that they werent botched beyond use. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 38: Felix Felicis and His Favoritism~ "Potionsa subject that even the most diligent mediocrity cannot truly grasp." Snapes voice echoed through the classroom. "I can say with absolute certainty that the vast majority of you will never qualify for my N.E.W.T.-level Potions class." "It is difficult to convey the wonder and complexity of potion-making through mere words, but fortunately... Harry?" Snape suddenly stopped, pulling a small vial from his pocket and holding it aloft for the class to see. "Tell me its name." The golden liquid swirled within the bottle, shimmering like molten gold, flecked with tiny stars. Given its rarity and miraculous properties, there were only a few potions in existence that fit the description. "Its Felix Felicis, Professor," Harry answered, staring at the potion said to bring unfailing luck. Truth be told, the moment he read about it before term started, he had wanted to try it. Unfortunately, it was far beyond his skill level. Not only were the ingredients prohibitively expensivesome even unavailable in Diagon Alleybut brewing it was an arduous process. It required precisely six months to complete, with no room for error. A single misstep would turn it into poison. Only a true Potions Master could successfully craft it. "Correct. Felix Felicis. Two points to Gryffindor." Snapes voice was soft, almost absentminded. "This small vial contains enough to grant its drinker a full day of perfect fortune. I daresay, for your feeble minds, it might just offer a glimpse into the true wonders of potion-making." "At the end of todays lesson, I will award this vial to whoever brews the most perfect batch of Boil-Cure Potion." Harry had the distinct feeling Snape was looking directly at him when he said that. The golden Felix Felicis remained suspended in midair at the center of the room, gleaming tantalizingly. The young witches and wizards instantly redoubled their efforts, grinding their ingredients with newfound fervor. With such enthusiasm in the air, Snape began his rounds. And today, everyone had the privilege of his attention. "Foolish! Is your skull as thick as a trolls? Or has a troll taken residence inside it? Grinding snake fangssurely even your walnut-sized brain can comprehend the meaning of grind?" "Y-Yes, sir," Ron stammered, his hands trembling. "Yes? If you understand, then explain to me why youre smashing them instead! Are you attempting to showcase your brute strength? Two points from Gryffindor for your arrogance." With a dramatic sweep of his robes, Snape moved on. "...I nearly had a heart attack," Ron muttered under his breath, wiping cold sweat from his brow. He whispered to Neville, his assigned partner, "Merlins long stockings, I think my underwears soaked through." "D-Dont talk, Ron," Neville replied, his nerves stretched to their limit as he struggled to prepare a tray of Flobberworms. His hands were shaking violently. "If he hears us, hell take more points." Halfway through the lesson, the Gryffindors reached a collective understandingHarry was Harry, and they were just... them. To be fair, when Snape awarded Gryffindor twenty points at the start of class, most of them had been confused. It contradicted every tale theyd ever heard from upper-year students. According to those stories, getting Snape to award Gryffindor points was harder than getting him to drop dead. And yet, here they were, alive and well, with twenty extra points. Some had even dared to hopeperhaps their fear had been unfounded. Perhaps Snape wasnt as terrifying as the older students had claimed. That illusion shattered the moment Snape unleashed his verbal onslaught. Until they heard it firsthand, none of them had imagined it was possible for someone to string together such a relentless barrage of biting insults without uttering a single profanity. Even the Slytherins werent spared. Mistakes were met with the same sharp rebuke, the same withering contempt. Snape didnt need crude wordsyet he could reduce a student to the verge of tears with nothing but his tongue. Felix Felicis was like a carrot dangling before a herd of donkeys, driving them forward despite the pressure Snape inflicted. All except for one personone exception. "Wait! Harry?!" Hermione suddenly hissed, eyes wide. "Why did you cut off the Flobberworms antennae? Were supposed to stew them whole!" "Dont worry, Hermione," Harry reassured her. "It wont affect the potion." "How could it not?" she gasped. "You didnt follow the book! Were doomedhes going to murder us!" Hermione was practically hopping in place, frantic. She wasnt just desperate to prove she wasnt the "dull-witted fool" Snape had accused them all of beingshe genuinely wanted that vial of Felix Felicis. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Oh? Not following the book?" Snape had already noticed. He strode over, standing behind Harry. "Explain your reasoning, Potter." "Professor, I think we still have time to restart," Hermione blurted out anxiously, but Snape ignored her. "I read Phyllida Spores An Analysis of Magical Ingredients," Harry began. "She explains that the only truly useful part of a Flobberworm is its antennae. Since theyre so small and require careful preservation, they arent sold separately, which is why potion-makers have to prepare them themselves. In other words, the Flobberworms body is just excess waste." "I believe that in alcheI mean, potion-making, the fewer impurities in the mixture, the higher the final products quality. Ingredients should be refined as much as possible to preserve their potency." "Excellent. Very well done." Snapes expression was almost pleased. "Potencyyes, potency. Even many of my N.E.W.T. students fail to analyze potions from that perspective. Another ten points to Gryffindor." "I expect all of you to come and observe Potters technique," he announced. "I dont expect you to match his precision, but at the very least, it might stop you from drowning your workstations in Flobberworm mucus." "As I said at the start of this lesson, while you lot fumble through your textbooks like mindless drones, those with true talent are already thinking aheadforming their own understanding." "...Are you alright, Hermione?" Harry couldnt help but check on her. She looked... well, not great. Like a tree struck by lightning. Especially when Snape had said those with true talentshe physically flinched. "Im fine, Harry," she croaked, her voice hoarse. "Lets finish the potion." She tried to smile, to brush it off, but it looked more like she was on the verge of tears. Even Harry felt a little guilty. He hadnt meant to destroy her. The rest of the lesson passed under Snapes relentless bombardment, punctuated only by the occasionaland shockingly genuinepraise for Harrys work. It could be said with certainty: by the end of class, every student, Gryffindor and Slytherin alike, had suffered under Snapes equal-opportunity verbal lashing. Well... perhaps not entirely equal. Gryffindor still bore the brunt of it. And theyd lost points. At least Slytherin had been spared that much. Particularly Ron and Neville, who had been subjected to the worst of it. Ron, under Snapes unrelenting pressure, felt like he was going to explode. Then he actually did explode. The bottom of his cauldron burned clean through, sending a spray of green liquid in every directionthough, thankfully, no one was injured. At least, not physically. Ron and Neville would have been drenched if not for Harrys quick reflexes, conjuring a gust of wind to shield them. But even Felix Felicis couldnt protect them from Snapes wrath. "Idiot! Imbecile! You must remove the cauldron from the fire before adding porcupine quills! How do you still manage to mess up even when following the book step by step?!" "Do you have trolls for brains?!" Neville and Ron, like two small boats tossed about in a raging storm, shrank back against the wall, heads down, wishing they could sink into the floor. "...As for you, Harry, that was a well-timed spell. Since you protected your classmateten points to Gryffindor." Snape turned away, exhaling slightly. There wasnt enough time left in class to remake the potion, so Ron and Neville remained standing miserably against the wall. Every time Snape walked past, he would let out a disdainful snort, making them lower their heads even further. Finally, the torturous Potions lesson neared its end. Snape was inspecting each group''s potion, and now, at last, it was Harry and Hermiones turn. "Very good," Snape murmured, gazing into the bottle of potion. "Just as I said, Harry, you have a natural talent for this You have not disgraced your mother... This is excellent." "As agreed, this bottle of Felix Felicis is yours, Harry." Snape summoned the small vial of shimmering gold liquid and placed it in Harrys hand. "Use it wisely." "Thank you, Professor. I will." Harry nodded. As a potion, Felix Felicis wasnt without its drawbacksoveruse could lead to recklessness, arrogance, and even a distorted sense of reality. "I''ll split it with you later when we get back," Harry said to Hermione after Snape had walked away, shaking the tiny bottle. "We worked on this potion together, after all." "No need!" Hermiones voice wavered slightly, but she still spoke firmly. "Thats yours. I didnt really help at all!" Without waiting for Harrys response, Hermione clutched her books and bolted from the classroomvanishing into the crowd of students who fled Potions class as if escaping disaster. That girl... Harry sighed. Her competitiveness was a little much, honestly. He couldnt help but think that if Ron and Hermiones personalities could balance each other out a little, things would be much easierone wouldnt be so obsessed with winning, and the other wouldnt keep throwing out lines like, Not surprising, its you, Harry. Harry glanced at Snape, only to find the professor staring back at him. Snape seemed like he had something to say or maybe Harry was just imagining it. The classroom was now empty except for the two of them. "...Honestly, Professor, showing this much favoritism towards me probably isnt a good idea," Harry said, walking over. "Other students will take issue with itwhether with you or with meits not going to end well." "Lily your mother your mother asked me to take care of you, Harry," Snapes gaze turned hollow, his voice distant. "I swore it to her. You saw it with your own eyes." Maybe it was because of his past experiences. Maybe it was because he had seen someone again whom he thought he never would. Either way, Harry was beginning to realize that Professor Snape had issues. Or perhaps, Snapes understanding of love was just a little off. To Snape, care and protection meant favoritism. It was unconditional bias, openly displayed without restraint or concern for how others might perceive it. In Snapes world, there were only two kinds of people: those he cared about and those who didnt matter. And he never cared about the latter. Once, this bias had manifested in his blatant favoritism toward Slytherins, his arbitrary awarding and docking of house points without regard for fairness. Now, all of it had simply shifted onto Harry. Snape only knew how to love in this waybecause this was what his life had taught him. It was clumsy, so much so that even when he wanted to express himself, he couldn''t put it into words. At least, Harry was fairly certain that what Snape truly wanted to say right now had nothing to do with any of this. What he really wanted was to askCould you let me see her soul again? But Snape acted as if that thought had never crossed his mind, as if nothing had happened at all. "Youre setting me up to be hated, you know," Harry couldn''t help but remark. "Besides, I already told you that day, ProfessorI have my own plans for my future. I dont need anyone acting like a guardian, telling me what to do, even under the pretense of looking out for me." Snapes brow twitched. He looked like he wanted to say somethingprobably something along the lines of Arrogant, just like your father. But in the end, he held back. Unlike that useless father of his, Lilys child possessed power beyond that of an ordinary wizardSnape had witnessed it himself. "This is not interference," Snape said quietly. "Not even Dumbledore can protect every student at Hogwarts And not every professor is worthy of trust. Especially certain ones with questionable behavior." Harry raised an eyebrow. Was Snape implying that Quirrell was suspicious? ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 39: Reputation Level – Friendly & Medicinal Baths After all, there were only so many professors in Hogwarts. It seemed that Headmaster Dumbledore hadnt told Snape about their conversation that day Well, that made sense. There was no need to make a big deal out of such things. "Take this, Harry." Snape placed a finely crafted leather pouch into Harrys hand, locking eyes with him as he said, "Stop acting like those foolish, reckless, and completely oblivious Gryffindors, running headfirst into danger. Especially with the company you keep Dont waste your life." Your mother gave her life to ensure yours. I will, Professor. The pouch Snape handed over was embroidered with an exquisite silver serpent. But Harry wasnt exactly a die-hard Gryffindor fan, so such decorations didnt matter. The real concern was what was inside. Without a doubt, an Undetectable Extension Charm had been cast on the pouch. With just a quick glance inside, Harry could already see rows upon rows of glass vials, all filled with various potions. Snape had even gone through the trouble of labeling them neatly. Potions for bleeding injuries were on one side, while those for lacerations or broken bones were on another. Aside from the common healing potions, there was a separate section containing potions specifically for resisting unknown curses, highly toxic concoctions, and those capable of inducing unconsciousness The variety was staggering, covering everything from survival to well, less savory activities. Simply put, as long as Harry didnt drop dead on the spot when something happened, hed have a way to keep himself alive. And even if he couldnt fully recover, he could at least buy himself some time. With Harrys current understanding of the wizarding world, he wasnt sure how to accurately estimate the value of these potions. But given that they came from Snapea Potions Mastertheir worth could only be higher than expected. However, from an alchemists perspective, just judging by their effects, these potions were definitely expensive. Harry let out a quiet sigh. Even if Snapes actions were driven by love and guilt for his mother, this was still an incredible gesture. He wouldnt take it for granted. Hed find a way to repay it someday. -- Ron? Neville? As soon as Harry stepped out the door, he saw the two of them crouched on the ground. You guys alright? They looked utterly exhausted, their hands still clutching their legs as if trying to massage the soreness away. No, Harry. Not at all. Ron stood up, utterly dejected. I feel like my legs are about to fall off. The two unlucky souls had been made to stand against the wall of the Potions classroom ever since their cauldron exploded. While standing might seem like an easy punishment, anyone who had endured it for long enough knew how agonizing it could get. Ron and Neville had never gone through anything like this before. Their legs had completely given out. Merlins lacy underpants! Ron couldnt hold back his outburst. Did you notice, Harry? He seemed to be circling around me and Neville the whole time! Neville couldnt even hold his knife properly! And I dont know why, but I swear, Harryhes got it out for me! He absolutely loathes me! But why?! Gripping his head in frustration, Ron let out a dramatic groan. Ive never done anything to him! And Harry well, Harry could only silently apologize to Ron in his heart. If his guess was correct, based on what Snape had said earlier, then well, Ron had probably been taking some of the heat meant for him. Harry was well aware of his resemblance to James Potter. Snape didnt want to break his promise to Lily, but he also didnt want to let go of his hatred for James Potter. So He had found Ron, the person closest to Harry, the one who always stood beside him at school, and taken it out on him instead. Ron Weasley, unknowingly shouldering the burden. If Snape seemed uncharacteristically gentle with Harry, it wasnt because he had suddenly turned into a saintit was because someone else was suffering in his place. Want some snacks? Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. My treat. Besides, Gianna hasnt gotten any exercise in agesI think shes getting a bit chubby. And no, dont get the wrong ideathis Gianna wasnt a person. It was the name Harry had given to his snowy owl, the one Hagrid had gifted him for his birthday. She was a lively, intelligent girl who seemed to understand human speech, so Harry had happily named her after someone familiar. Thanks, mate. Youre the best, Ron sighed, but then his expression brightened. But Harry, do you know what? Your divination came true again! You remember, right? When we were on the train, you did a reading for me and Hermione? Seeing that Harry hadnt immediately recalled it, Ron hurriedly reminded him, I was just telling Neville about ityou predicted it perfectly! This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Do you remember what we saw? A dark classroom, eerie green lights flashing every now and then, and me standing there all aloneuh, actually, most of it was spot on. There was just one thing that didnt match. Ron scratched his head. In your reading, I was supposed to be the only one standing there getting yelled at. But today, it was me and Neville. So it wasnt exactly right right? Divination is only a glimpse into a possible future, Ron. Harry shook his head. If you take it as something set in stone, youre in for a lot of trouble. Oh. Ron looked a little disappointed. "Wait a second, Ron." Neville, who seemed to have finally regained his composure, interrupted, "We didnt step forward together, did we? I remember you went first." "Thats it! Thats exactly it!" Snapping his fingers, Ron exclaimed excitedly, "The divination wasnt wrong! It only showed a fragment! Harry! I knew you were the real deal!!" "Yeah, yeah, Im amazing," Harry said flatly. "Just dont go spreading any more ridiculous rumors this time." "Dont worry, I definitely wont!" Ron flashed a confident grin. Definitely wont? Yeah, sure. He definitely would. By lunchtime, Ron was enthusiastically recounting how he had confirmed the accuracy of the divination. Harry had no idea how he managed to stretch such a simple scene into an entire saga, and the story was only getting more absurd by the minute. The worst part? Plenty of people actually enjoyed listening. Not just the Gryffindors at their table, but students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw as well. By the time it reached its peak, people were even approaching Harry to ask if he could do a reading for themsome were even willing to pay. Harry politely declined, citing a lack of materials and the need for further preparationbut notably, he never outright denied that he could perform divination. That only made the chatter in the Great Hall grow even more intense. "Hermione, dont let it get to you," Harry reassured the girl sitting beside him. "Divination isnt absolute. In fact, Rons situation today was already slightly different from what was predictedhe just didnt mention it. So dont overthink it." The more Ron hyped up Harrys supposed divination skills, the more he insisted that everything happening today matched the prophecy exactly, the more pressure Hermione felt. She hadn''t forgotten what she saw that dayherself, alone in the girls bathroom, secretly crying. No way. Absolutely not!! "Thanks, Harry. Im fine," Hermione forced a rather unconvincing smile. "By the way, could I borrow your Potions homework later? I just want to compare notes." "Of course, no problem. Ill give it to you once Im done," Harry nodded. "Thanks." With that, Hermione excused herself, claiming she was already full, and quickly gathered her things to leave. "If Im not mistaken, she only ate one little sausage?" Dean speared a sausage with his fork and muttered, "Looking at her now Merlin, Im starting to be grateful I didnt ask you for a reading that day. If I saw something bad, Id probably die of anxiety." "Only those who are truly lost seek guidance," Harry said kindly. "You made the right choice, Dean." "Oh, I dont think its so bad at all," Ron chimed in excitedly. "But forget about that for nowyou guys shouldve seen the look on Malfoys face! Especially when I roasted him on the way out of Potions." "Hah! Snape mustve been disappointed he didnt get to dock points from you in class. But seriously, Harry, I still cant believe he gave you so many points todaynearly fifty in a single lesson." Even after deducting all the points Gryffindor lost as a whole, they still came out with a net gain of over twenty. "If you werent the most Gryffindor of all Gryffindors, Id almost think you were a Slytherin," Seamus laughed. "Professor Snape just has trouble expressing himself," Harry sighed helplessly. At Hogwarts, aside from the Slytherins, he was probably the only person who thought that way. Life at Hogwarts was gradually settling into a routine. First-year classes werent particularly intense, leaving the students plenty of time to explore the castle and have funthough Harry spent most of his free time buried in the library. Of course, unexpected incidents didnt happen every day. But thanks to Rons big mouth, rumors of Harrys supposed prophetic abilities spread like wildfire, reaching increasingly ridiculous heights. And Harry did nothing to stop them. More and more students sought him out, hoping for a reading. Harry didnt reject them all; instead, he carefully selected those who genuinely seemed to be struggling with something significant and gave them a divination. As for the ones who just wanted to test if it was realor worse, those who wanted to know what theyd be having for lunch or dinnerHarry turned them all away. One particularly notable case involved a seventh-year student who came to Harry asking about his future with his girlfriend after graduation. The vision Harry showed him? The student lying in a hospital bed, grinning from ear to ear. Outraged, the boy accused Harry of using magic to fabricate fake visions and scam people. But Harry wasnt about to get mad over something like that. The rumor spread quickly, with the whole school buzzing about ituntil, just days later, that same student actually ended up in the hospital wing. His girlfriend, having heard about Harrys divination, had been so touched by his concerns that she impulsively proposed to him, asking him to marry her right after graduation. Overjoyed, the boy promptly fell down a flight of stairs and broke his leg. And just like the vision predicted, he was grinning from ear to ear as he was carried to the hospital wing. The next day, after getting his leg mended, he even returned with his fiance to thank Harrygratefully stuffing fifty Galleons into his hands and warmly inviting him to their future wedding. Because the readings were all short-term predictions, they often came true very quickly, fueling the schools fascination even further. The legend of Harry Potters prophetic abilities only grew more exaggerated. The one thing that frustrated students the most was that Harry only read for those he deemed to be truly lost or troubled. What defined "true confusion" was a mystery known only to Harry himself. It was as if he had a pair of eyes that could see straight into peoples hearts, instantly determining who was lost. This led to some students genuinely considering bashing their own heads against the walljust to see if they could get confused enough to qualify. "So, this is why youre hiding out here?" Hagrid asked dryly, pouring a bucket of hot water into the large wooden tub where Harry was soaking. "Ahh Thanks, Hagrid," Harry sighed in contentment, sinking into the warm medicinal bath. "I wouldnt say Im hiding. Its just that, well, you know, Gryffindor dorms have five people crammed into one room. Its way too crowdedits hard to get anything done." It did sound a bit suspicious, like he was sneaking around to do something shady. But in reality, all Harry was doing was taking a medicinal bath. It was a way to make up for malnutrition in his early years, strengthening his body, improving his agility, and ensuring his growth stayed on track. The formula was something Harry had put together himself, combining his past knowledge with the unique magical herbs of this world. It was still experimental, but it already showed promising effects. "Hah, I still feel like theres more to this than youre letting on," Hagrid muttered, walking over with a bottle of thick, red liquid. He uncorked it and poured it into the tub. "Alright, theres your Fire Salamander blood Lucky for you, Professor Kettleburn always keeps a few of them in his fireplace, or I wouldnt have had a clue where to get some." Fire Salamander blood had healing properties and was often used in vitality-enhancing potions. "To be honest, Harry, Im starting to regret agreeing to this," Hagrid admitted, eyeing the now rather ominous-looking liquid in the tub. His brows furrowed with concern. "Are you sure this formula is safe?" ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 40: The Witch Doctor’s Tricks and Ron’s Death "......Joratox.......kambokem....... Farastu.....Ginnalka cens Whutless......" Chanting the incantation passed down among witch doctors in the Troll tongue, Harry paused in stirring the potion, watching as the deep green glow spread outward from the droplet falling from his fingertip, sinking and diffusing into the liquid below. "Trust me, Hagrid, I am Harry Potter." By now, he had become quite adept at using this line as a convenient shield. Soaking in the potion, he could clearly feel the heat radiating from the fire lizards blood as it dissolved into the mixture. "And dont forget, I can divine the future too." That, of course, was a liethough brewing something of this level hardly required Harry to divine its fate. To be honest, the concoction in this barrel barely qualified as alchemy (Azeroth-style) or even a proper potion. It was more appropriate to categorize it as troll witchcraft. Compared to conventional potions, troll witchcraft stood out for its bizarre ingredients, unorthodox brewing methods, and the necessity of incorporating eerie magical ritualssomething Harry had picked up from Voljin, son of Senjin, during a bout of curiosity within the Darkspear Tribe. Although troll witch doctors and tauren shamans differed significantly, they still broadly fell under the same "shaman" classification. Harry could only learn a bitany more, and it would be beyond his capability to handle. Troll witch doctors focused heavily on the path of spirits, honoring all things, especially the Loa (the animal demigods). And as for their potion ingredients well, that was where Harry drew the line. Trolls were truly savage! The Darkspear were already considered among the more civilized troll tribesthey at least didnt eat peoplebut even so, their customs and rituals still made Harrys skin crawl, especially their potions! Dead toads, dead bats, beast hearts, snake blood practically a witchs cauldron straight out of Muggle fairy talespurely sinister. Many witch doctor brews were outright toxic in their final form, curing one ailment while causing another, a perilous balance between healing and harm. That being said, sometimes their concoctions achieved effects that no other potion could replicatenot even the witch doctors themselves could fully explain how they worked. Like now. After completing the magical ritual, even the half-baked witch doctor that was Harry had no idea how the potion had stabilized, but it had. "Ah, right, you can see the future I never would have guessed you had a Seers gift, Harry." Hagrid sniffled, his stomach churning slightly from the pungent stench filling the room. "Mind if I open a window?" "Go ahead." Right now, Hagrids hut was steeped in the heavy, metallic scent of blood. If not for Hagrids help, gathering all these ingredients would have been a real headache for Harry. Beyond that, there was also an indescribable stenchsomething between a musky and rotten odorthat overpowered even the herbal fragrances. Taking a few deep breaths by the window, Hagrid finally returned, dragging a chair over and plopping down next to the wooden barrel. Even seated, he still towered over Harry. Frowning at the dark, semi-coagulated liquid in the barrel, Hagrid seemed on the verge of speaking several times before stopping himself, his features scrunching together in hesitation. "Whatevers on your mind, just say it, Hagrid." Harry turned his head and, upon seeing the half-giants comically conflicted expression, couldnt help but chuckle. "Holding it in doesnt suit you." "Alright, alright." Hagrid shook his head, muttering, "Sharp as ever, arent ya? To be honest, Harry, neither James nor Lily had any talent for prophecy. Lily was quite good at Potions, sure, but James? Ha! All his talent went into mischief!" "Maybe one of the Potters ancestors married a Seer," Harry mused offhandedly, closing his eyes. He could distinctly feel the potions essence being absorbed into his body, replenishing lost nutrients and strengthening his physique. "I suppose that makes sense The Potters are an old family, after all." Hagrid seemed satisfied with this reasoning and stood up. "But no matter how I think about it, this potion makes me uneasydamn, I just remembered what we put in it. I mustve been mad to agree to help you." "Hahaha, dont be like that, Hagrid." Harry laughed, looking at the good-natured half-giant. "Aside from being a wizard, Im also a shaman. Professor Dumbledore already approved my Shaman Club applicationI can start as soon as Im ready." "Shaman now thats a word Ive heard before. The centaurs in the Forbidden Forest have a shaman; hes their tribes elder." Hagrid rummaged around for a bottle of mead before sitting back down. "Theyre always speaking in riddles. But how did you become a shaman? Oh, Harry, you dont mind if I have a drink, do you? This smell is something else." He swirled the golden liquid in his glass. "Of course, suit yourselfits your home, after all." Harry nodded and then"Accio mead." Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. With a snap of his fingers and a whispered spell, the bottle of mead in Hagrids hand flew into Harrys grasp. A second snap, and a cup soared over from the cupboard. As the bottle tipped in midair, the golden liquid poured smoothly into the cup, filling it with a rich, honeyed aroma. " Not bad at all, Hagrid." Harry took a sip, savoring the taste. "You have excellent taste." Harry was growing increasingly fond of Hagrids hut. The mead was mild in strength, more of a beverage than a strong drink, with a uniquely sweet-and-sour flavor, a faint bitterness, and a lingering honeyed aftertaste. It was now officially added to the taurens recommended beverages list. "Oh! Thanks, Im glad you like it, Harry!" Hagrid beamed. "By the way, was that the Summoning Charm? Thats a fourth-year spell! I didnt expect you to learn it so fast. And that trick with the meadwait a minute! You did that without a wand and without speaking?!" Hagrids eyes widened as the realization hit him. "It was still spoken," Harry lamented. "The Summoning Charm is a fourth-year spell? I didnt knowI found it in The Hundred Most Useful Spells. I must say, its incredibly handy." He was no longer the clueless newcomer who had once stumbled into the wizarding world. Looking back, he had to take back something he had once saidthat wizards were foolish for believing that casting without a wand was the pinnacle of magical prowess. In Azeroth, enemies either had high armor, high magic resistance, or rapid regeneration. Given these challenges, spellcasters there had to maximize their magical outputessentially, dealing the highest possible damage in the shortest amount of time to secure victory. Under such conditions, a staff that could enhance ones magic, channel ambient magical energy, and amplify spell potency was indispensable. But in this world, things were different. In this world, everyone is just an ordinary human beingcut their skin with a blade, and they will bleed; stab them in a vital spot, and they will die on the spot. Thats why, when any spell you cast can effectively harm your opponent, the real key is casting faster and more discreetly than they do. For that reason, even sacrificing a bit of a spells power is worthwhile. After all, as long as your opponents spell doesnt hit you, while you can cast yours faster and more covertly, you gain the upper hand. You prevent your enemy from predicting your attack or discerning which spell you are about to cast. Over the past couple of days, Harry had been reading Wizards and Duels. He discovered that, in the beginning, wizards were obsessed with chanting incantations and unleashing more powerful spells. But those who followed that path ultimately met crushing defeat at the hands of those who could cast faster, with precision and ruthlessness. Over time, such spells were gradually eliminated. No demand, no evolution. In the end, what remained were the spells Harry now sawrequiring only a quick flick of the wand to guide the magic and release it. Incredibly efficient. As ones magical power grew and their understanding and proficiency with spells improved, even the wand movements could be simplifiedeventually, the incantations could be omitted entirely. It was difficult, no doubt. Achieving this required immense willpower and precise control over ones magic. Fortunately, Harry lacked neither. "Alright, so this is what being a genius feels like, huh?" With a joking tone, Hagrid slapped a newspaper onto the edge of a wooden barrel. "Here, this is what I promised to show you back in Diagon Alley." Glancing at the paper, the first thing Harry saw was a photo of himself standing amidst the ruins of a house, locking eyes with Dumbledore. Above it, in bold, oversized print, was the headline: "Harry PotterThe Next Dumbledore?" With a loud crunch, Harry crumpled the newspaper into a ball and tossed it aside. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Hagrid roared with laughter at Harrys reaction, his booming voice shaking the very roof of the hut. "Oh, Harry, dont do that! I was planning to keep it! Who knows, maybe one day you could show it to your kids!" Grinning, he retrieved the crumpled newspaper, carefully smoothing it out before placing it back on a shelf. "Whats the point of keeping something like that? And wizarding reporters are they all this exaggerated?" Harry regretted his reading speed the moment he accidentally skimmed a few lines. "Exaggerated?" Hagrid snorted heavily. "You should see what that woman has written beforethat was exaggerated! If there was even a single truth in her articles, IdI''dI''d eat my own slipper!" Something clearly set Hagrid off, and he launched into a grumbling tirade about a certain journalist named Rita. Harry didnt catch most of it. "Alright! Alright, enough about them!" Growing more agitated, Hagrid abandoned his honey mead in favor of a few swigs of brandy from the corner of his hut. "So, Harry, where are your friends? I thought youd bring them along for a visit." "Are you even thinking straight, Hagrid?" Harry deadpanned. "I came here for a medicinal soak." "Ah! Right, my bad." Hagrid smacked himself on the head with an audible thwack. Then, suddenly, he pointed at the window. "Well, in that case did they just find their way here on their own?" Harry turned to lookthree heads were squeezed against the window. Who else could it be but Ron, Neville, and Hermione? Ever the hospitable host, Hagrid immediately opened the door to welcome his new guests. "Harrys friends are my friends," he declared cheerfully. Hermione sat on a chair, offering a polite but nervous smile. Neville, predictably, looked even more anxious. Ron, on the other hand, was the boldest, curiously inspecting the oddities scattered around Hagrids hut. "Howd you know I was here?" Harry asked curiously. "Bloody Baron told us you went this way," Ron answered easily. "You remember him, right? The Slytherin ghosthonestly, I thought a Slytherin ghost wouldnt help us. Or worse, hed give us the wrong directions!" "Hey, Hogwarts ghosts wouldnt do that," Hagrid quickly defended them. "Students may get sorted into houses, but the castles ghosts have a duty to help all young wizards. If you ever get lost on your way to class, just ask any ghostyoull be fine." "Bloody Baron" Harry frowned, recalling Slytherins resident ghost. Sunken eyes, gaunt face, and a tattered robe with splotches of silvery blood. Exactly the kind of ghost little wizards feared the mosthe certainly looked like bad news. "Forget about ghosts, Harry," Ron suddenly pinched his nose, inching toward the wooden barrel with a mix of excitement and revulsion. "What are you doing in there? Ugh, it stinks! Ohoh, thats disgusting!" To clarify, by this point, Harry was submerged in a potion bath. The murky, dark-brown liquid covered everything except his head. "A medicinal soak. Just think of it as a treatment," Harry explained. "Its not something I can do in the dormitory, so I asked Hagrid for help." Seeing Rons morbid curiosity, a mischievous thought crept into Harrys mind. "You want to try, Ron?" he asked innocently. As he spoke, Harry casually scooped something from the barrela bloated, potion-soaked spider carcass. It was so swollen that it dwarfed his entire palm, its limp body sagging in his grip. The next second "AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" An indescribable shriek of pure terror. Two screams rang out simultaneouslyone from Ron, the other from Hermioneso sharp and piercing they drilled into Harrys eardrums. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 41: Terrifying Hermione and the Mad Headmaster It was hard to imagine how such an ear-piercing scream could come from a child''s throat. For a moment, Harrys head was buzzing from the sheer volumeespecially Rons, since he was the closest. Harry couldn''t help but burst into laughter, but his laughter barely lasted two seconds before coming to an abrupt halt. Because, right before his incredulous eyes, Ron went limp and collapsed onto the ground. He had fainted. "Ron!!" Thankfully, Hagrid had quick reflexes and caught the red-haired boy before he hit the floor. Then, as if shaking up a bottle of champagne, he gave Ron a little shakestill no reaction. Yeah, he was definitely out cold. I swear to the Earth Mother, I really didnt mean any harm. Uh, it was just a jokewhy would anyone be this scared of spiders? Harry quickly defended himself under the accusing gazes of Hermione and Neville. Any normal person would be scared of spiders and snakes, Harry Potter!! Hermione glared at him, using his full name in fury. That was way too cruel!! Oh, I think it was just a harmless prank, Hagrid chuckled good-naturedly. But your reactionsMerlins long stockings, I swear I nearly lost my scalp from the screaming. A harmless prank?! Hermione turned her glare on Hagrid. Despite her small frame, the sheer pressure radiating off her made Hagrid momentarily feel like Professor McGonagall was scolding him. Ron passed out!! And Nevilleare you okay, Neville? What surprised Hermione was that, unlike Ron, Nevillewho was usually the timid onedidnt seem too shaken. Im fine, Neville swallowed hard and said. I mean Ive bought spiders before. For Trevor to eat. So Im used to it. Uh, though this one was a bit big. Trevor was, of course, Nevilles pet toad. Ron was quick to pass out, but he was just as quick to wake up. He groggily sat up on the floor, looking dazed. Where am I? Bloody hell, why does it feel like I got punched twice by a troll? My whole body aches Ron muttered as he stretched. This is Hagrids hut, Ron. Are you okay? Neville asked tentatively, while the rest of them tactfully avoided mentioning Hagrids shaking method. Me? Of course, I Ron stopped mid-sentence as his gaze landed on the wooden tub in front of him. And on Harry, who was sitting inside it. In an instant, everything came rushing back. Merlins red suspenders, Harry! Youre soaking in that stuff?! Are you mad?!! I already told you, just think of it as me undergoing a treatment, Harry explained once again. I need to do this to replenish my bodys missing nutrients. It helps me get stronger, faster. But you look more like a child from a Muggle fairy tale whos been kidnapped by an evil witch and thrown into a cauldron for stew! Hermione blurted out. Look at yourself, Harrythis is downright sinister!! A heartfelt accusation from a little girl. The horrifying scene she had just witnessed was still burned into her mindHarry, covered in thick, reddish-brown potion, lifting a bloated spider carcass with his bare hands. Just imagining what he was soaking in made her skin crawl. Merlin, you really look like the mad, wicked witches from those fairy tales I read as a child, Harry! Hermione couldnt hold back any longer. This is just a type of potion, nothing wicked about it, Harry shrugged. And for the record, Hermione, if anyone here is a witch, its you. Im a wizard. That only seemed to make Hermione angrier. You dont understand, Harry, Ron scooted away from the tub as far as possible. I was pranked by Fred and George when I was littleyou lot have no idea what thats like. My favorite stuffed toy turned into a huge, hairy spider right in my arms Ugh! I cant even! Fred and George are absolute menaces, everyone immediately concluded after picturing the scenario. Even Harry had to admit that was taking pranks way too far. Mum nearly tanned their hides offshe had them stuck in bed for a week. But either way, ever since then, Ive been terrified of spiders. My bad, sorry, Ron. As a righteous bull-headed Gryffindor, Harry apologized immediately. Its fine, you didnt know, Ron waved him off generously. By the way, you said this potion makes you stronger? Ron, resilient as ever, had bounced back quickly and was now eyeing the potion with interest. Dont even think about it, you lazy bum, Harry rolled his eyes. Even with the potion, you still need to exercise. If you can wake up early and train with me every morning, then well talk. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Haha yeah, never mind, then, Ron laughed awkwardly. Its not that I cant wake upits just that you wake up too early, Harry. The conversation turned into a jumble of complaintssomething about Harry being nothing like a first-year, how not getting enough sleep stunts growthall of which earned chuckles from the group. So this is one of those shamanic potions you talked about? Hermione, no longer angry, asked curiously. Yep, Harry nodded. If becoming a shaman means soaking in whatever this is, Id rather not, Hermione declared firmly. But what if soaking in it made you smarter? What if you could learn anything quickly and understand everything with ease? Harry grinned, leaning back against the tub. Can it really do that?! Hermione shot up, planting both hands on the table in excitementonly to freeze when she noticed everyone staring at her with strange expressions. Ahem, what I meant was so youre saying you learn so fast because of this potion? Hermione coughed into her fist, trying to look serious. If I said yes, would you agree to soak in it? Harry asked, barely holding back a laugh. Conflictthose two big words were written all over Hermiones face. She looked like she was standing on the edge of corruption, torn between temptation and reason, just one step away from the abyss. IIwait, youre messing with me, arent you? After a long internal battle, Hermione finally looked uponly to see Harrys barely contained laughter. Her expression instantly collapsed. You were totally messing with me!! As if a potion like that exists!! Well, technically, there is oneBrain Elixir can boost intelligence, Harry admitted before grinning. But yeah, I was messing with you. HARRY!! POTTER!! The hut erupted with Hermiones furious yelling and everyone elses laughter. A pleasant afternoon. Hagrid was, in all honesty, a great guy. Though he looked big and intimidating, he was warm-heartedat least to his friendsand always willing to share good food. So Eat up! Why arent you eating? Hagrid pushed a plate forward enthusiastically. Made it myselfstoat sandwiches, theyre delicious. White what? Hermione blinked. Stoat, Hagrid repeated. Sort of like a rat I think. Hermione turned green. Ron and Neville didnt look much better. But Hagrid was so cheerful about it that they had no choice but to take a bite of the enormous sandwiches in front of them. The meat was a little sour. And the more they thought about what they were eating, the worse their stomachs felt. How is it? Hagrid looked at them expectantly. Uh its not bad. Hermione forced a smile, but the moment she spotted Harry stifling a laugh behind Hagrid, her expression twisted into one of gritted-teeth fury. Why dont we let Mr. Potter have a taste as well? If words could turn into knives, Hermione swore the man sitting in the tub wouldve been stabbed into a sieve by now. After all, she had just called him Mr. Potter. If someone overheard, theyd probably think Malfoy was the one talking. Hagrid, looking as if hed just had a revelation, turned to Harry. You know me, Hagrid, Harry said, meeting his friends eager gaze. He lifted a hand out of the potion bath and gestured at himself. Look, I cant exactly eat right now. Oh right. Hagrid, disappointed, turned back around. Its fine! Hagrid, Ill help him! With a dramatic swoosh, Hermione sprang up from her chair, grabbed a sandwich, and grinnedno, grinned wasnt strong enoughshe bared her teeth in a menacing smile as she approached Harry. Come on now, open wide, Mr. Potter!! Oi! Hermione! Wait a second!! Harry yelped, but he couldnt stop her from marching forward with the sandwich in hand. Harry wanted to raise his hands to block her, but if the sandwich fell into the potion bath, it might turn into something even more mysterious. He could only watch helplessly as Hermione shoved the sandwich toward his mouth. The room quickly descended into a terrifying scene: Hermione grinning like a madwoman, force-feeding Harry a sandwich while twisting it deeper into his mouth. Ron and Neville, sitting on the sofa in the back, huddled together, trembling. Too scary. This woman was too scary. Wait hold on a second. It was as if a lightbulb had flicked on above Rons head. He suddenly realized something. Harrys taking a potion bath, right? So doesnt that mean hes actually naked right now? Hermione froze. To be fair, the thick, murky, reddish-brown liquid was completely opaque, so nothing was visible beneath the surface except Harrys head. But even so, Hermiones face instantly turned bright red. And Ron wasnt done. If we think of Hagrids hut as a boys dorm, then wouldnt this mean Hermione just barged into the boys bath to watch Harry bathe? Rons brain had never worked so fast before. He was leaping from one conclusion to the next like a bolt of lightning. Ron stop talking lower your voice Neville tugged at Rons sleeve, whispering anxiously. Hermione, her body as rigid as a machine, slowly turned around, her cheeks burning red, flames of fury dancing in her eyes. RON!!! Ron Weasley, male, age eleven. Cause of death: ribs shattered by blunt force trauma. The atmosphere in the hut grew unbearably awkward. Hagrid had to tell several wizard jokes just to lighten the mood again. Eventually, the conversation drifted back to life at Hogwarts. Speaking of which, I heard theres been some weird stuff going on in the castle? Hagrid asked, taking a big bite of his sandwich. I overheard some students talking about it the other dayapparently, Professor Snape has been acting like a completely different person? Ha! Its not just SnapeProfessor McGonagall too. Ron huffed at the mere mention of it. You wouldnt believe whats going on at the castle right now, Hagrid. Even Fred and George are saying the professors mustve taken the wrong medicineor maybe they were poisoned. Or maybe weve all been poisoned! Snapes been sneaking around, handing out points to Harry like crazy! Helping a classmate? Two points! Following school rules? One point! Greeting a professor? Another point! Merlins beard!! Well, that does sound a bit strange. Hagrid blinked in confusion. He knew Snapes reputation at Hogwarts all too well. Snape, of all people, handing out points to Gryffindor? What kind of dream am I having? He even complimented my antlers. Harry added casually. Hagrid now looked even more doubtful about reality. You havent even heard the worst part yet, Hagrid! Ron slammed his teacup down in frustration. If Snapes been handing out points like candy, then McGonagall has been doing the exact oppositeshes been deducting points from Gryffindor like mad!! Its like shes trying to cancel out every point Snape gives!! Merlins pants, isnt she supposed to be our Head of House?!! Theyve lost their minds!! I-I think Professor McGonagall must have her reasons, Neville stammered. Shes not just our Head of Houseshes the Deputy Headmistress, too. She has to be fair, right? Then why didnt she say anything when Snape used to give Slytherin all the points and dock Gryffindors like crazy?! Ron huffed, practically fuming at the nose. Ahem, you lot really shouldnt be badmouthing your professors especially Professor McGonagall. Im sure she has her reasons. Hagrid quickly cut in, trying to steer the conversation away. But Ron, if Snapes giving Harry all these points, why do you sound so angry? Because hes been taking points off me!! Ron practically wailed. He was about to collapse from sheer injustice. Merlin help me! I never knew a person could insult me in so many roundabout ways!! ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 42: Voldemort’s Schemes What Ron described had indeed become one of the strangest sights at HogwartsSnape was awarding Gryffindor points from every possible angle and for all kinds of reasons. Yet before the Gryffindor students could even begin to celebrate, they found that Professor McGonagall was going out of her way to deduct points from them at every turn. Many upper-year students were convinced that something had gone terribly wrong with the world. Some of the braver ones even went to the Headmasters office to ask Dumbledore to step in and check if Professors Snape and McGonagall had lost their minds. While most students were now viewing Snape in a new, more complicated light, Ron alone remained steadfast in his... well, hatred of the man. After all, under Snapes "generosity," Ron was currently the student who had lost the most points in Gryffindor. He also had to endure Snapes relentless sarcasm and sharp tonguethough, oddly enough, this had earned him quite a bit of fame in Gryffindor. Many older students had even gone out of their way to encourage him, gifting him snacks and small presents. This situation left Ron with an odd mix of suffering and satisfaction. For once, he wasnt famous for being "Harry Potters best friend, the companion of the Boy Who Lived," but rather for being "the brave warrior standing at the front lines against Snape." Ron rather liked this title. After spending day after day enduring Snapes verbal onslaughts and the mental strain that came with them, Ron felt like he had grown stronger. "Uh, I think Neville has a pointProfessor McGonagall isnt like Professor Snape. She values fairness," Hagrid said, after mumbling a bit as he listened to Rons complaints. "Oh, shes fair, all right," Ron muttered sarcastically. "If it werent for Snape, I dont even want to think about how many points Gryffindor would have left. Its like McGonagalls trying to prove somethingdoes she really have to deduct more points just to show shes fair?" "Ahem! Lets not talk about this, Ron!" Hagrid let out a loud cough and forcibly changed the subject. "So, Harry, if you really want to be my neighbor, you could consider staying at Hogwarts as a professor after you graduate." "Hmm, I think youd make a great Divination professor. After all, you actually can predict the futureway better than that frauduh, I mean, way better than Professor Trelawney!" Hagrid nearly blurted out his real thoughts before catching himself. He then enthusiastically added, "I could even help you build a wooden cabin! What kind of style do you like?" "Fraud?" Hermione, who had finally caught her breath, still had flushed cheeks but was at least willing to speak now. She immediately latched onto the unfinished word, curiosity shining in her eyes. "Why would you say that? What did she fake?" "Oh! I didnt say anything like that!" Hagrid waved his hands frantically. "Dont go spreading rumorsespecially not inside the castle. She is your professor, after all." "Fine, we wont spread it," Hermione nodded but persisted, "But are you saying Professor Trelawney actually cant do Divination? How is that possible? I meanif she couldnt, Headmaster Dumbledore wouldnt have made her a professor, right? That would be irresponsible to students, and someone like that shouldnt be called a professor at all." Hermione simply couldnt believe that Hogwarts would employ a fraud. "Hah!" Hagrid let out a loud laugh, clearly unimpressed. "Dont ask, Hermione. I dont want to badmouth a colleaguebut when you get to third year and take Divination, youll understand why I said that." Hermiones curiosity was at an all-time high, and she clearly wanted to ask more questions. However, this time, Hagrid kept his lips sealed, refusing to say another word. This left the young witch sitting there fuming in frustration. As for Harry he was currently amusing himself by using lightning bolts to zap mosquitoes. Sizzle. Sizzle. One bolt after another streaked across the hut, frying the tenacious little creatures mid-air. "Hey, mate, that looks fun," Ron said after counting seven or eight successful hits. "Can you teach me how to do that?" "Of course," Harry agreed readily. Then he turned to Hagrid. "Actually, if everything goes smoothly, I might become your neighbor sooner than you think. Im planning to submit my application to Headmaster Dumbledore this week, and starting next week, Ill be holding the first meeting of the Shaman Club. Would you mind if we used your place for it?" "Shaman Club? Next week?" Hagrid was momentarily stunned, but then he beamed. "Of course, Harry! And if you dont mind, Id love to give it a try too!" "Absolutely no problem." Harry had already managed to recreate a prototype of the Spirit Pact Potion needed to walk the Shamans path. While its taste and effects werent identical to what he had experienced in Azeroth, after personally testing it, he was confident it would produce the results he wanted. Alchemy and potion-making worked like thissince ingredients constantly changed or disappeared, one couldnt simply abandon a potion just because certain materials were unavailable. Instead, the key was to understand their properties and experiment with new combinations. In the end, what mattered most was the potions effect. The group spent a pleasant afternoon at Hagrids hutwell, except for one young witch who might have had a different opinion. But that wasnt a big deal. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. They declined Hagrids dinner invitation, and by the time they returned to the castle, the sky had already darkened. By coincidence, they ran into Professor Quirrell in the first-floor corridor. "Good luck, Professor Quirrell! You can definitely defeat the vampires!" Ron suddenly raised his hand and called out, offering sincere encouragement to the young professor, who looked worse by the day. The proof? The garlic smell around him was even stronger than usual, and his movements had become increasingly twitchy. Ron wasnt the only oneHermione and Neville also smiled at Professor Quirrell in an encouraging, supportive manner. Ever since Harrys past predictions had started coming true one after another, his vision of Professor Quirrell lying on the ground, covered in blood, had taken on an increasingly eerie significance. Rumors had begun circulating wildly among the studentssome said Hogwarts was going to be attacked by vampires, who were searching for their "beloved" Professor Quirrell. Others believed that Quirrells tragic fate in the prophecy was because he constantly doused himself in garlic essence, angering the legendary "Garlic King," who would eventually beat him to a pulp Well, Hogwarts students certainly had vivid imaginations. And somehow, over time, the way students viewed Professor Quirrell had changed. Complaints about his uninspired, textbook-based lectures had dwindled, replaced by an outpouring of positive energystudents were now actively encouraging him. Even HarryHarry gave Quirrell a smile and a thumbs-up. Harrys encouragement was entirely sincere. Of course, the reason he was cheering Quirrell on might have been slightly different from the rest of the students. He was eagerly waiting for Quirrell to step into the traps on the fourth floor. Once Quirrell took the bait and fell into Dumbledores carefully laid-out defenses, the Headmaster would have no reason to keep such an unstable element around. And thenHarry could finally collect his mission reward. Flawless logic. Harry was dying to know how Dumbledore had managed to create the vision he saw in the Divination sceneand what exactly that suitcase was... The curiosity in his heart felt like a cat scratching at him. The four of them left just like that, while QuirrellQuirrell stood behind, staring at their departing figures until they disappeared from sight. Only then did he hurriedly rush toward his office. What to do, what to do, what to do?! Master! He must know!! As soon as he entered, he went straight for the mirror, pressing both hands against the cabinet and muttering to himself, his voice filled with panic. There was none of the composure and steadiness Harry had seen that day. "Silence!!" A second voice suddenly rang out in what should have been Quirrells empty office. It was harsh and hoarse, laced with an undeniable frailty. "Look at you nowhow ridiculous." Who else could it be but Voldemort? "Master!!" Quirrell nearly collapsed to his knees, tears already welling up in his eyes. His voice trembled. "But DumbledoreThat boy must have told Dumbledore!" "Quiet!!" The voice grew sharper, but then, in the very next second, it softened unexpectedly. "Ah, Dumbledore My poor servant, Dumbledore has frightened you out of your wits, hasn''t he?" "No, no, no, I havent, Master, I havent!" Quirrell''s body trembled with fear. "And even if it is Dumbledore, so what?" Voldemorts tone turned wild, impatient. "Even Dumbledore cannot kill me! No one can kill Voldemort!!" "Yes, Master, no one can kill you," Quirrell prostrated himself humbly on the floor, murmuring, "but your plan... your plan is still unfinished. You need to be restored. You need the Philosophers Stone!" "Ah, yes, my plan." Voldemort sounded pleased. "I''m glad you still remember my plan, my servant... There is no need for fear." "Dumbledore is merely clinging to his final days, hiding away in Hogwarts. He can do nothingwhat does it matter if he knows?" "He knows he cannot kill me," Voldemort said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "So all he can do is watch. Watch as I reclaim my strength. Watch as I take back everything that is rightfully mine. That is his weakness." "Your power makes me tremble, Master," Quirrell offered his flattery at just the right moment. "The room on the fourth floor is nothing but a trap," Voldemort suddenly said. "Dumbledore knows I can see through it, so he placed what I seek there, like a bird waiting for prey to step into the snarebut I am the snake lurking in the shadows, the one who will claim everything in the end!" Every seasoned Slytherin prided themselves on being a serpent. The journey of a wizards magical awakening began the moment they were sorted at eleven years old, when they chose the label they would bear. "Then, Master, should we" "No rush," Voldemort cut him off leisurely. "I believe I''ve found a promising childsuch a good child, much like you once were." "Do you remember when you first came to me?" Voldemorts voice grew softer, almost coaxing. "Crawling at my feet, whispering your desires... You wanted power, wanted respect, wanted to be more than a weak, insignificant Muggle Studies professor? Ha!" Voldemort let out a scornful chuckle. "It was you who enlightened me, my master," Quirrell said, not daring to lift his head. "Of course, of course I did," Voldemort''s voice hissed like a serpent. "But now, I seem to have found another lonely, restless, and uneasy soul." "Master, you mean Harry Potter?" Quirrell asked cautiously. "The Boy Who Lived?" "Ah, yes, the Boy Who Lived" Voldemorts voice took on an unreadable complexity. "So unique, so special, so... similar." The last word was spoken so softly that Quirrell could not catch it at all. "Dumbledore would never understand," Voldemort laughed lowly. "A childhood of suffering, growing up like a house-elf in his Muggle relatives'' homesmall, frailyet with a desperate yearning for magic, displaying remarkable talent." "Master, youyou intend to?" Quirrell held his breath. "Make the Boy Who Lived serve you?" "Why not?" Voldemort said cheerfully. "The Potter family was never known for its study of soul magic, yet that child claims to have researched itQuirrell, my servant, you wouldnt understand." "Once one delves into magic related to the soul, they can never turn back. And the pursuit of such magic inevitably demands sacrifices That boyDumbledore will never understand him. Only I will." No one could understand what it meant to grow up in such circumstances and possess such extraordinary talent better than Voldemort. "Then, Master, I should?" Quirrell asked obediently, though his heart was filled with jealousy toward Harry Potter. "Do what you must, Quirrell," Voldemorts voice grew impatient. "But from now on, I will personally teach Defense Against the Dark Arts I will show that child the true mysteries of magic, the real essence of it and then he will" Voldemorts voice grew fainter, but it did nothing to diminish his excitement. Because he had just thought of a truly marvelous idea. Didnt Dumbledore treasure Harry Potter greatly? Didnt the entire wizarding world believe that Harry Potter had defeated him, that he was their savior? In that case, why not turn Harry Potter into a Death Eaterwhy not guide the boy toward the path of darkness, right under Dumbledores very nose? Let him witness the allure of the Dark Arts, let his soul be swallowed whole! Voldemort could hardly wait to see the look on Dumbledores face when he realized that the boy he placed so much hope in had unknowingly become another version of himself. Oh, that would be truly delightful. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 43: The First Lesson of the Transfiguration Club
What? Quirrells eyes widened in shock at Voldemorts command. He spoke urgently, But, my Lord, your body is far too weak. I fear you wont be able to sustain it for that long Enough! Voldemort impatiently cut him off, his voice frail yet commanding. Of course, I know my own weakness To think that even a mere child could resist my magic. Ha! Voldemort attributed Harrys escape from his Legilimency to his own diminished power and the magical attenuation caused by casting spells through Quirrells body. He would never admit that it was because Harrys soul was stronger than his, or that Harrys will was more resolutethose were explanations he refused to accept. Of course, that child does have his merits, Voldemort murmured. His childhood experiences have forged a strong will, but in the face of a serious me, even the strongest will is nothing more than an illusion. Im tired, Voldemort said wearily. Do not stop, Quirrell. My loyal servant, continue searching. Voldemorts voice grew fainter and fainter until it finally dissipated. But before it vanished completely, Quirrell had at last understood his instructions. The Defense Against the Dark Arts office fell into silence. After a long moment, in the darkness, a few barely audible sobs could be heard. -- Voldemorts ambitions, Quirrells ambitions, and his fearsHarry knew nothing of them. Or rather, even if he did, he wouldnt care. Out of caution toward his enemy, Harry had already investigated Voldemorts history. To him, the so-called Dark Lord was nothing more than an insignificant figuresomeone who, in Azeroth, wouldnt even make it onto the main stage. No matter how much he exaggerated his evil, darkness, and terror, Voldemort, at the peak of his reign, had killed only a few hundred wizards. Even including the Muggles who died as collateral, the number would barely reach ten thousand. In Azeroth, someone like Voldemort would be akin to a bandit leader gathering a few followers to raid nearby villages and passing caravans. At best, hed be considered an elite-tier foe, one that adventurers would quickly dispose of. Compared to the world-ending threats Harry had faced, Voldemort was laughably insignificant. As for Voldemorts so-called ideologyhis doctrine of pure-blood supremacyHarry found it even more ridiculous. As a hero who had saved Azeroth multiple times, Harry did believe that in any society, a privileged class was inevitable. But privilege should be earned through contribution to ones people. This was true for both the Horde and the Alliance. Because individuals had different abilities, those who possessed power should stand at the forefront during times of crisis, protecting the weaker ones behind them. In return, during times of peace, those who had risked their lives and shed blood at the frontlines deserved respect and the best treatment. That was how the world ought to function. Yet, Harry saw none of that in Voldemort. The man claimed he would lead the wizarding world to a new future, yet his actions consisted of terrorizing and slaughtering his own kind. Such a man wasnt even worth debating with. The only reason he was still alive was because of Dumbledores insistenceand because Harry had yet to fully understand the nature of magic in this world, making it unclear in what form Voldemort truly existed. For now, what mattered more to Harry was that Professor McGonagall had finally sent someone to deliver his invitationhis first lesson at the Transfiguration Club was about to begin. -- Harry left the Gryffindor common room under the weight of an intense gaze. He didnt need to turn around to know who it was. Who else but Hermione? From the moment an upper-year student delivered his invitation, Hermione had been watching him with red-rimmed eyes. She had repeatedly begged him to take thorough notes and show them to her afterward. Naturally, Harry had no reason to refuse He didnt even dare to joke about it. After all, with the stress Hermione had been accumulating recently, she was like an unstable goblin bomb, ready to explode at any moment. A highly volatile and dangerous presence. Ignoring the burning stare behind him, Harry made his way to the location written on the invitationProfessor McGonagalls office. Despite being called a "club," the Transfiguration Club was more like an advanced study group. It was where McGonagall provided extra instruction for students with a talent for Transfiguration. Nothing particularly secretive about it. Unlike regular classes, where students sat neatly behind their desks, Harry now faced a round table. There were only a few students present, scattered around the table. Among them, he spotted a few familiar facessuch as Rons older brother, Percy, who was waving enthusiastically at him. Welcome. This new semester, we have two new members joining us. McGonagalls tone was noticeably more relaxed than during regular lessons. There was even a trace of humor in her voice. This is Mr. Ront, a third-year. And this onewell, I dont think I need to introduce him, do I? Of course not, Professor! Percy said eagerly. Harry Potter! If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. No, Percy, I think you forgot three wordsThe Seer of Prophecy, a pretty girl beside him laughed. She turned to Harry with a warm smile. If you dont mind, come sit with us, O great prophet. Thats right, Harry! Come join us here, Percy beckoned. If possible, just call me Seer. Im more used to that title, Harry joked, naturally accepting the invitation. He had always gotten along well with the Weasley children. As he approached, however, he noticed something amusingthe chairs where Percy and the others sat were lavishly crafted, some even adorned with gemstones. In contrast, the empty chairs were all plain and simple. In an instant, Harry understood what was going on. So, this is the first lesson of the Transfiguration Club? he mused aloud with a chuckle. He drew his wand and gave it a wave. The next moment, the empty chair in front of him transformed into a broad, high-backed wooden seat, lined with a layer of fura chair that suited his tastes, one with a tribal aesthetic. Brilliant Transfiguration, Harry! Percy immediately praised. Professor McGonagall was right, you really do have a knack for it. Conjuring a proper chair for oneself hardly counts as the first lesson, McGonagall said, studying Harrys work with satisfaction. As Ive told you before, we generally dont encourage younger students to join the official clubits too soon for them. But you, Harry, are an exception. Theres no need for formality here. Unlike in class, the Transfiguration Club is meant to expand your thinking, to help you see different aspects of Transfiguration. Think of it more as a gathering of like-minded individuals. McGonagall truly seemed at ease. She wasnt even addressing him as Potter or Mr. Potter anymorejust Harry. Incidentally, her outfit today reflected that relaxed attitude as well. She was wearing a light gray sweater, which made her look at least ten years younger. "Got it, Professor, I''ll keep that in mind." Harry shifted slightly in his seat, as if savoring the familiar comfort of the chair. Turning his head toward Percy, he added, "To be honest, the only transfiguration Ive truly mastered is converting one inanimate object into another. If you asked me to turn this chair into something that moves and roars, I wouldnt be able to do it." "You still havent overcome that mental block?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Its difficult, Professor," Harry admitted sincerely. "Ive tried many times, but I just cant seem to do it. Perhaps Headmaster Dumbledore has mentioned it to youaside from being a wizard, Im also a shaman. That gives me a very different perspective from most witches and wizards." "A shaman?" The girl beside Percy interjected. "I thought you were a Seer? Ohsorry, I havent introduced myself. Im Penelope Clearwater, from Ravenclaw. Hope you dont mind." "We all belong to Hogwarts; theres no need to make distinctions like that. Just call me Harry." He shook his head slightly. "As for being a Seer, thats just one aspect of shamanism. If youre interested, you can drop by my Shaman Club sometime and give it a try." Advertising for his own club while in the Transfiguration Club was a risky move. Even though Penelope was clearly curious about the fact that Harry had a club of his own, she wisely held back her questions before Professor McGonagall had the chance to become dangerous. "Since you might have some personal matters youd rather not discuss in front of everyone, lets save this topic for after the session, Harry." McGonagall nodded. "Now, lets begin our journey into Transfiguration." Unlike regular classes, the Transfiguration Club did not separate students by year. After all, members came from different levels of study. But once things got started, no one felt particularly out of their depth. Part of that was due to the clubs entry requirementonly third-years and above could join. Most students who made it in were already ahead of their peers in magical ability, well beyond the standard curriculum designed for the average student. But the real reason, as Professor McGonagall had pointed out, was that this wasnt a formal lessonit was an expansion of their thinking. More accurately, it was an exploration of Transfigurations applications. Which made sense. No one expected a bunch of students to sit around dissecting the fundamental nature of Transfiguration or predicting its future developments, let alone producing groundbreaking researchthat would be completely unrealistic. Those kinds of deep, theoretical topics were the kind of lifelong pursuits scholars might take up after graduation, if they were interested. If Hogwarts actually had a class like that, it would probably be called something like the "Century Wizard Society" or "Dark Lord Fast-Track Program," where only the likes of Dumbledore, Grindelwald, or Voldemort would be allowed inprodigies who considered inventing spells by their second or third year to be mere childs play. Clearly, McGonagalls club wasnt aiming for that level of prestige. The theme of todays session was Transfiguration in wizard dueling. According to McGonagall, this topic might last the entire year, depending on their progress. After a brief introduction, she gave her wand a casual flick, and the round table in the office vanished without a trace. Then, the entire room seemed to shiftthe walls moved as if they had grown invisible hands and feet, making space for a larger dueling area. "Come on, Miranda, show your younger housemates a demonstration." Once the space was cleared, McGonagall gestured for a sixth-year Gryffindor student to step into the center. "Er alright, Professor. Just go easy on me?" Miranda hesitated before stepping forward. "Dont worry, child, its just a demonstration." McGonagalls expression held a hint of excitement as she encouraged the student. "You may use any means at your disposal to attack me, while I will only use Transfiguration to counter. Any questions?" "No questions, Professor." "Good. Thenthree" "Two" "One!" "Stupefy!" The moment McGonagall finished counting down, Miranda raised her wand and fired a Stunning Spell. Using spells directly was certainly fast, but unfortunately, McGonagall had anticipated it and sidestepped with ease. No wonder she could turn into a cat. Harry noticed that despite her age, McGonagall was incredibly agile. It was no surprise, then, that she had chosen not to wear her usual long robes today, instead opting for a sweater and trousersclothing more suited for movement. As she leaped aside, McGonagall flicked her wand, and two chairs that had been pushed to the sides of the room suddenly transformed into soldiers. With a blast of their trumpets, they charged straight at Miranda. "Reducto!" Startled, Miranda quickly cast two consecutive Blasting Curses. They were powerfulboth chair-soldiers shattered into a spray of wooden debris. But unfortunately for her, she soon realized that she could no longer speak. Her hairband had somehow transformed into a rope, which snaked around her arms and legs, binding her tightly. Within moments, she toppled to the ground, completely immobilized, and had no choice but to concede defeat. "Your focus was too scattered, Miranda," McGonagall said sternly, slipping into her usual strict tone. "Just because two Transfigured objects appeared, you completely lost track of your real opponent. Did you really think two transformed objects could be more dangerous than a skilled witch?" "Sorry, Professor. I got too nervous," Miranda muttered, rubbing her arms where the ropes had been digging in. "You must learn to adapt, my dear." McGonagall offered a rare note of encouragement before addressing the rest of the group. "I trust you all saw it for yourselvesa wizard proficient in Transfiguration holds a tremendous advantage in dueling. It allows us to control the tempo of the fight in a crucial way." ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 44: Harry’s Righteous Duel Against Percy If Professor Flitwick were here, hed tell you just how crucial rhythm is in a duel, Professor McGonagall continued. Once you gain control of the situation, you can dictate the flow of the battlewhether to prolong the fight and wait for your opponent to tire and make a mistake, or to release a smokescreen and set a trap. Or perhaps launch a relentless flurry of attacks, overwhelming your opponent before they have a chance to react. In short, you can force the duel to unfold on your terms. Take my duel with Miss Miranda just now as an example, McGonagall began her breakdown. You can, like I did, skillfully manipulate your transfigured objects to divert and entangle your opponents attention, compelling them to deal with the transfigured forms, and then seize the opportunity to launch your own attack. At the same time, even the items your opponent carries are no longer safe. You can transfigure them at any moment and use them for a lethal strikethough I must emphasize here that human transfiguration is extremely dangerous. Even in the International Wizarding Duel Championship, if a contestant were to perform an irreversible transfiguration on their opponent, they would face the harshest punishment, possibly even imprisonment! McGonagalls gaze swept sternly across the room. So, absolutely do not attempt to transfigure your classmates! None of you want to end up in Azkaban, do you? For perhaps the first time in the entire club session, McGonagall was truly seriousshe was laying down a strict prohibition. After all, human transfiguration was not only highly complex but also incredibly prone to accidents. And when accidents happened, they often led to irreversible consequences. Unlike conventional physical injuries, magical injuries accounted for the majority of cases at St. Mungos Hospital, with many victims suffering lifelong repercussions. More importantly, at this age, students were boldrecklessly so. They often acted on impulse without considering the consequences. It wasnt entirely out of the question that some might actually try transfiguring their classmates. And in the high-pressure environment of a duel, the chances of a botched spell leading to a magical catastrophe were far too high. After reiterating all the forbidden actions, Professor McGonagall called upon several sixth-year students from different houses to serve as demonstrations. None of them fared well. Some were swiftly bound like a cocoon while struggling against the transfigured objects. Others, having learned from their predecessors, tried to ignore the distractions and focus solely on McGonagallonly to find themselves battered by a horde of attacking transfigured entities, forcing them to their knees. Brutal. Absolutely brutal. Well then, who else would like to try? McGonagall, seemingly invigorated, glanced around the room with an expectant gleam in her eyes. Silence. Alright, I see youre all eager to move on to dueling each other. With a wave of her wand, the wreckage of chairs scattered around the room returned to their original state. Pair up and step into the center. Ill observe and point out your weaknesses. A collective sigh of relief echoed through the room. Students generally disliked theoretical lessonseven the top performers werent exempt from this sentiment. Any lesson involving wands was infinitely more popular, and when it came to dueling, enthusiasm was practically guaranteed. With only about a dozen members in the Transfiguration Club, it didnt take long for students to pair up, chatting and joking as they did. Harry? Seeing Harry standing alone without a partnerhaving bypassed the usual grade restrictions to joinPercy kindly extended an invitation. Why dont you join us? Me? Harry glanced at Percys side. I wont be intruding? He hesitated, given that Percys group consisted only of himself and Penelope. As someone with life experience beyond his years, Harry was well aware of what a one-on-one pairing between a boy and a girl often implied. He had no desire to be the third wheel. ...Merlins beard, Harry! Youre an eleven-year-old kid! Percys face instantly turned crimson. Clenching his teeth, he hissed, What on earth is going on in that head of yours?! Percy felt completely paralyzed. He struggled to avoid the burning gaze from beside himhe could practically feel it boring holes into his skin. He did have feelings for Penelope, the charming Ravenclaw, but they were in the earliest stages, barely budding, unspoken and unexpressed. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Harry would blurt it out so bluntly in front of her. Well, it looks like you do need a sparring partner, Harry! Avoiding Penelopes gaze entirely, Percy stomped over and clamped a hand on Harrys shoulder. Ive heard youre quite skilledlets see for ourselves. Sorry, Harry muttered under his breath where Penelope couldnt hear. Didnt know you hadnt made it official yet. Shut up, Harry. Just drop it, Percy shot back even more quickly, his voice barely above a whisperHarry almost didnt catch it. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Alright, lets give it a go! Percy said, slapping Harrys shoulder with a little too much force. The gesture was meant to be friendly, but Harry suspected at least a fraction of it was vengeance. Tilting his head slightly, Harry glanced toward Penelopethough he was swiftly blocked as Percy shifted his stance. Even so, hed already drawn his conclusion. I think youve got a chance, Percy, Harry whispered. She looked quite pleasedneed me to do a little divination for you? Really? Percys expression softened instantly. One Galleon. Lets just duel!! Hold on, thats a bargainconsider it a family discount for Rons sake. You should hear what other students are offering just for a reading. And thats assuming I even agree to it, Harry said, rolling his shoulder where Percy had smacked it. ...Guaranteed success? Percy asked after a deep breath, tempted despite himself. Guaranteed a reading, not guaranteed romance, Harry shrugged. If you mess things up yourself, thats on you. Divination isnt all-powerful. Lets just duel! With that final growl, Percy and Harry stepped into the center of the room. Percy? And Harry? Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the red-faced Weasley. Are you two really going to duel? This seems a bit Professor McGonagall began to consider the fairness of this duel. "Dont worry, Professor," Percy spoke up first. "Ill only use Transfiguration." "Alright." After recalling the level of magic Harry had displayed so far, Professor McGonagall ultimately agreed. "Bow first, Harry." Standing on the other side, Percy prompted, "Well start after a three-two-one count. No problem?" "No problem," Harry answered decisively. Since this was the Transfiguration Club, Harry decided he would also stick to Transfiguration alone. At the end of the countdown, Percy was the first to flick his wand. It was evident that he was indeed one of Professor McGonagalls prized studentsevery move was modeled after her. The two unfortunate chairs at the sides of the classroom were once again transfigured, taking the form of wooden soldiers, nearly identical to the ones Professor McGonagall had demonstrated earlier. They blew their horns and charged at Harry. "That wont stump me, Percy," Harry called out. With a wave of his wand, several more chairs transformed into wooden dogs, which immediately lunged forward, tearing into the wooden soldiers. "Its rare to see a first-year perform at this level, Harry." Despite his joking tone, Percy couldnt help but admire Harrys counter. "But I wont hold back from here on." And he truly didnt. Harry realized Percy could be quite deviousbecause even as he spoke, Harry felt the buttons on his robe shifting under the influence of magic. However, he quickly neutralized the spell with a counter-curse before anything could happen. Percy had attempted a sneak attack. Yet, when it failed, he showed no hint of embarrassment. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow smugly. The duel escalated instantly. Neither Harry nor Percy moved from their positions, while their transformed creations waged a brutal battle in the center of the room. Splinters flew, debris scattered It was sheer carnage. Utterly ruthless. "WhewHarry, you can use other spells, you know," Percy reminded him, panting. "Thanks, but Im fine with just Transfiguration." Unlike Percy, who was starting to sweat, Harry appeared completely at ease. Transfiguration required energyespecially when controlling multiple transformations at once, which was both mentally and magically taxing. "Ha! Got you!" Percy suddenly exclaimed in delight, raising his wand triumphantly. At Harrys feet, a stray splinter had abruptly morphed into a vivid green vine, snaking toward his ankle But it missed! "Huh?" Percys eyes widened in disbelief. The next moment, Percy felt himself flipping through the airhe had been lifted off the ground before suddenly crashing back down. Harry had noticed Percys little trick all along but had pretended not to. Instead, he had laid his own trap using the same airborne splinters, mirroring Percys strategy. Originally, Harry had planned to suspend Percy in midair, but just as Percy was about to be flipped upside down, Harry caught sight of Penelope watching nearby. So, instead, Percy spun half a turn and landed straight on his backsidelooking utterly bewildered. A round of applause broke the silence. Professor McGonagall stepped forward, clapping as she waved her wand. The shattered wood pieces across the floor began to twitch and jump, seeking out their missing counterparts or perhaps just any nearby piece, eventually forming back into fully intact chairs that returned to the walls. "Excellent, absolutely excellent," Professor McGonagall praised. "In terms of control over Transfiguration, you two have already surpassed many othersafter all, not everyone can maintain so many simultaneous transformations." "Im sorry, Professor McGonagall. I lost." Scrambling up from the floor, Percys face turned even redderthis time, from shame. Yes, he had only used Transfiguration, but the problem was so had Harry! Even if Harry had been labeled a genius and the "Boy Who Lived" before even starting school, losing to a first-year still stung Percys pride. "Theres no need to be discouraged, Percy," Professor McGonagall consoled. "Theres no such thing as an absolute advantage in a wizards duel. And when it comes to pure Transfiguration battles, they test a wizards vigilance and observational skills above all." "You were too focused on your own trap, werent you? Especially when you saw it getting close to Harryyou didnt notice that Harrys trap had already closed in on you." Professor McGonagall analyzed calmly. "Did you learn something from this, Percy?" "Yes I should always be aware of my own position and surroundings," Percy admitted, still somewhat dispirited. "Good. If youve learned something new, then it wasnt truly a loss." With that, Professor McGonagall turned to Harry. "As for you, Harry, youve surprised me even more." "Because of my Transfiguration?" Harry smiled wryly. He hadnt expected Professor McGonagall to be so sharpto notice the key difference between his and Percys spells. That was the mark of a true expert. "Of course." Professor McGonagall scrutinized Harry, her gaze intense Honestly, and Harry felt a little guilty for thinking this, but her expression really looked as if she had just discovered a magical creature disguised as a human. "Of course," she repeated. "If Percy was simply commanding each transformed object to attack independently, leaving them to act on their own, then you, Harry, were manually controlling each of your transfigured constructsdirecting their limbs, making them react in real-time. That is truly astonishing." "The amount of concentration required for that is several times greater than Percys method. Its incredibly prone to mistakes, and you cannot afford to lose focus for even a second," Professor McGonagall said, looking utterly incredulous. "Yet, you pulled it off flawlessly. Even when Percy was exhausted, you still showed no sign of fatigue." "Your willpower is remarkable, Harry," she praised, "as is your control. Im beginning to believe what Professor Dumbledore told me about you." "I cant help it, Professor," Harry sighed helplessly. "I just cant grasp how you all manage to give inanimate objects a temporary semblance of life. Its a bit too mind-boggling for me." "Still stuck on that issue?" Professor McGonagall nodded. "I understand. Well discuss it further after the club meeting." And so, for the remainder of the session Harry had a rather peaceful time. After all, Professor McGonagall had made things abundantly clear. Everyone was aware of Percys skill level, and yet even he had lost. So, quite simplyno one dared to challenge Harry anymore. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 45: The Shamans Bottom Line and Professor McGonagalls Experiment
"Are you alright?" Harry asked as Percy walked up beside him, fresh from a duel. "Sorry about that." "Merlin, don''t apologize, Harry, really, dont," Percy sighed. "I didnt think much of it at first, but the moment you apologized, it just felt... strange." Harry burst out laughing. He had to admit, apologizing as the victor did come across as rather ironicalmost as if he were apologizing for going too hard on his opponent. "You''re really impressive, Harry," Percy said earnestly. "Both in Transfiguration and in your dueling performance. If you''re interested in dueling, you might want to ask Professor Flitwick for some pointershe was a dueling champion in his youth." "That sounds fascinating," Harry said seriously. "Ill definitely ask him." Harry rather enjoyed duelingit felt like being in an arena, satisfying his itch for competition and keeping him from growing complacent in this peaceful world. Despite the students lingering excitement, the Transfiguration Club session eventually came to an end. As Harry watched Professor McGonagall bid farewell to the last student, she waved her wand. Within seconds, the office returned to its usual state, the desks neatly arranged, books stacked, and a few student essays lying atop them. "Sit down, Harry," Professor McGonagall said. "Lets talk about your issue." "Alright, Professor." Harry took a seat, considering where to begin. "Before becoming a wizard, I first became a shaman." Previously, Harry had explained his innate magical abilities to McGonagall. But after re-evaluating his situation, he had decided to be completely upfront. He spoke at lengthabout the existence of the Astral Plane, the unique perspective of shamans, what the world looked like through an astral viewpoint, the shamanic belief in the spirits that inhabit all things, and the ethical duty to respect and protect those spirits. Harry explained everything in thorough detail. He needed Professor McGonagall to fully grasp the challenges he faced and the reasons behind them. Only then could they find a solution. "So, your shamanic spells rely on requesting the aid of elemental and spiritual entities, is that correct?" McGonagall finally asked. "No wonder you said that Transfigurationmagic that imposes ones will upon external objectsfeels uncomfortable to you. Its fundamentally a different worldview." "Exactly," Harry nodded. "You might think I''m just being overly sensitive, but for a shaman, these principles are crucial. A shaman who crosses that line too easily will find it difficult to stop." Harry could, if he wished, forcefully bend elements or spirits to his will. He had the capability. But he would never do so. A shaman worked with the spirits and elements as equals. Sometimes, he would be refused, and that was fine. He never got angry or took offense. Often, the line between human and beast lay in that single steponce you crossed it, there was no stopping the descent. Some things should never be done. Especially in a world filled with scheming conspirators, tempting demons, and the whisperings of eldritch gods, holding firm to ones bottom line was the only way to safeguard ones soul and integrity. "Oh, Harry, I would never think of it that way," McGonagall said, her gaze softening. "Anyone with strong principles is worthy of respect, and yours are particularly... righteous." She hesitated for a moment before settling on the word "righteous." Righteous and kind. "I must admit, everything you''ve told me is unlike anything Ive ever encountered," McGonagall confessed. Then, with a small smile, she added, "If this is what you plan to teach in your Shaman Club, Id be quite tempted to enroll as a student myself." "Then, Professor, I would be more than honored to have you," Harry replied, grinning. "And just so you know, I wouldnt take points from Gryffindor for poor performance." McGonagall chuckled, her lips curling in amusement. "I do believe Ive outgrown the age where I worry about losing House points," she said wryly. "But lets get back on topic. Harry, Ive noticed you borrowing quite a few books from the library. How far have you gone in your study of Transfiguration?" "Not very deep, Professor," Harry admitted honestly. "My reading has been broad rather than focusedIm trying to gain a general understanding of the magical world as quickly as possible. Ive only delved into Transfiguration up to the point relevant to my current problem." "Until I resolve this issue, I dont think I should bypass it and dive into deeper Transfiguration studies. That could be dangerous." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Thats a very mature and prudent approach," McGonagall praised. "Honestly, I should have some of the more reckless students learn from your attitude toward unfamiliar magic and unknown knowledge." Harrys caution was understandable. In Azeroth, those who approached power carelessly didnt tend to live very longand they often died in gruesome ways. "Let me put it this way, Harry," McGonagall said seriously. "As you advance in Transfiguration, youll eventually learn that upper-level courses focus not just on changing one object into another, but on the theory and fundamental principles behind it." "Theres one unbreakable rule in Transfiguration, known as Gamps Law of Elemental Transfiguration," she continued. "This law outlines five major limitations of Transfiguration. The first and most well-known is that a wizard cannot conjure food from nothing. However, if food already exists, Transfiguration can be used to increase, decrease, or alter it." "Is that change permanent?" Harry asked. "If so, wouldnt that mean wizards have access to an endless food supply?" "It sounds unbelievable, doesnt it?" McGonagall smiled. "But yes, it is permanentthough in practice, few wizards rely on this method. Fresh food is simply better." "I know its hard to wrap your head around, but magic has a way of defying expectations," she said, her tone turning serious. "Now, the second rule is particularly important: the boundary between the living and the non-living cannot be permanently altered." "A wizard can transfigure objects into animals or vice versa, but such changes are temporary. Once the magic fades, the transformed object will revert to its original form." "So if you turned a cat" Harry hesitated, catching McGonagalls sharp glance, "alright, a doginto a chair and then smashed it to pieces, would it still be alive when it reverted?" "If you can restore the chair fragments back into a complete chair before the magic dissipates, then the dog is still alive," Professor McGonagall replied. "What if a piece is missing?" "Then the dog will be missing a part." "So magic isnt omnipotent after all. I mean, it cant turn the impossible into reality," Harry said with a chuckle. "In some ways, it exceeds my imagination, but in others, it has its own set of limitations." "Magic was never omnipotent, Harry," Professor McGonagall sighed. "If it were, then wizards wouldnt have so many regrets Now, back to Transfiguration. The third rule of Gamps Law of Elemental Transfiguration states that wizards cannot conjure magical items. For instance, the self-stirring cauldrons or automatic quills you see in Diagon Alley." "The fourth rule is that you cannot alter the quantity of objects. That is, you cant turn one object into multiple. However, if two objects are connected, they can be transfigured as a wholeif you transfigure a person wearing clothes into a dog, then when they change back, the clothes will still be there separately; they wont become a permanent part of the dog." Professor McGonagall spoke rapidly. "Apart from that, the last and most important rule is that Transfiguration can never create something from nothing," she said with particular seriousness. "You might have heard of or seen spells from upper-year students, such as Avis or Orchideous." "These spells dont actually create birds or flowers out of thin air. Their nature is that of summoning spellsthey call birds or flowers from elsewhere and then leave them behind or send them away." "I see," Harry nodded. "So according to the fundamental laws of Transfiguration, if a living being is transfigured, as long as it isnt damaged before the magic fades, it wont suffer any physical harm." "Then during this transfiguration process, will its spirit be affected or tainted by the magic?" "The best way to answer your question is through an experiment," Professor McGonagall said, glancing around her office. "From your perspective as a shaman, Harry, is there anything in my office that possesses a spirit?" "Yes, Professor, quite a lot, actually. For example, that hairpin in your hair," Harry answered. Professor McGonagall froze. She reached up, took the hairpin from her hair, and let her locks fall loose. "You mean this?" "Yes." Harry nodded, staring at the hairpin in her hand. "Its glow is very stronggentle, warm, and filled with blessings. May I ask where it came from?" "It was a gift from my late husband," Professor McGonagall said softly, her fingers brushing over the hairpin with a complicated expression. "Im sorry, Professor," Harry said, understanding at once. Generally speaking, relics of the deceased or gifts given during their lifetime often carried spirits. "Its alright," McGonagalls breath hitched slightly. "According to what youve said, this hairpin has a spirit? My husbands?" "Im sorry, Professor," Harry interrupted her. "For gifts given by the deceased during their lifetime, the spirit usually forms from the recipients long-term use and emotional attachment rather than anything directly tied to the deceased." "I see." McGonagall took a deep breath. And Harry Harry started wondering if he had been a little too blunt. "Maybe we should pick something else for the experiment, Professor," Harry said sincerely. "That clock over there would workit carries the weight of history." That was the magic of Hogwartsyou could always find old objects brimming with history anywhere. Harry often enjoyed strolling through the castle in his free time, searching for ancient spirits. "No need. Well use this," McGonagall said decisively. She waved her wand, and a string tied her hair back once again, restoring her usual neat and efficient look. "I am not a shaman, nor do I know what this astral plane you speak of looks like. So youll need to observe carefully with your unique perspective, Harry." She pointed her wand at the hairpin on the desk. "Ill count down. Three, two, one." At the end of the countdown, the hairpin on the desk suddenly transformed into a cata plump, fluffy, orange tabby. It stretched out a paw, scratching deeply at the student essays nearby before arching its back in a lazy stretch. Then, it sat down on the desk and started licking its fur, looking very content. "Harry?" Professor McGonagalls voice was quiet. "From your perspective has its spirit changed?" It might have been his imagination, but Harry thought he detected a trace of barely perceptible anxiety in her voice. Unfortunately "It has changed, Professor," Harry said regretfully. "Though some of its previous traits remain, its spirit has become livelier, more active, and filled with curiosityjust like a real cat." The office fell into silence. No one spoke. Harry truly regretted it, because from his perspective, this meant that transfiguring an object with a spiritwhether turning an inanimate object into another inanimate object or into a living beingwas ultimately a distortion of its original essence. It was an act of forcibly altering and controlling a spirit with ones own will, a practice that went against the path of a shaman. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 46: Dispelling Illusions and the Success of Living Transfiguration As for Professor McGonagall... If she hadnt known before that this hairpin harbored a spiritan embodiment of her lingering thoughts of her late husbandshe might not have felt anything unusual. But now that she knew, now that she had personally performed the transfiguration herself Looking at the adorable ginger cat grooming itself on the desk, she couldnt understand why this time felt different, even though she had performed similar transfigurations countless times before. It was as if As if she had twisted her own longing for her departed husband, or perhaps even toyed with it. The realization left Professor McGonagall with complicated emotions. Even though she could not perceive the spirits Harry describedthe ones that only a shaman could seeshe could now somewhat understand why he had used the word twisted. If a spirit were like a person, then what she had just done was akin to forcibly altering that persons form by her own willgiving them cat ears, beastly claws, or perhaps even an extra mouth or multiple noses. No wonder twisting was the word Harry had chosen. It certainly wasnt a pleasant thought. ...Lets continue, Harry. Pressing her fingers against her temples, Professor McGonagall sighed. Next, I will revert it to its original form. I want you to observe the changes in its spirit during the process. Yes, Professor. Once again, she counted down from three. The moment the final count ended, Professor McGonagall swished her wand, and in an instant, the obedient little ginger cat transformed back into a brown hairpin, lying silently on the desk. The only evidence of what had just occurred was the faint scratch marks left on a nearby students parchment. And this time? Professor McGonagall exhaled and asked, During the reversal, did the hairpins spirit undergo any changes? It reverted, Harry said, sounding a little surprised. It no longer feels like a cat. That liveliness, that curiosityits all gone. Are you certain? Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow slightly. Completely reverted? Exactly the same? Well thats hard to say, Professor. Harry chuckled awkwardly. Most spirits cant speak, after all. Unless theyve gathered enough energy to manifest in the physical world, its nearly impossible to observe such subtle changes. I can only get a general sense of it. I see. Leaning back in her chair, Professor McGonagall fell into deep thought. The knowledge she had just gained from Harry, the events that had just unfolded, and her own feelings all swirled in her mind. Spirits... Transfiguring spirits born from longing... Humans... Twisting... The office fell silent again as Harry, too, was lost in thought, contemplating what Transfiguration truly meant to a shaman. Harry? Professor McGonagall suddenly broke the silence. Have you ever spoken with the ghosts in the castle? I have, Harry replied. Ive listened to them talk about Hogwarts in the pastits quite fascinating. Yes, in a way, they are vessels of bygone knowledge. But thats not what I want to discuss right now. Her eyes grew brighter as she spoke. What I want to ask ishave you ever noticed how they died? Their cause of death? Harry was puzzled. Thats right. Take Sir Nicholas, for exampleGryffindors house ghost. Professor McGonagall added, I imagine he was more than eager to show you his... head. Oh, rightNearly Headless Nick, Harry chuckled. Sir Nicholas loved nothing more than tugging his head to the side and complaining about how the executioner who had tried to behead him had done such a poor job, leaving his head barely attached by a strip of flesh. He doesnt particularly like that nickname, Professor McGonagall said with a smile. In fact, as far as I know, Sir Nicholas has long been applying to join a ghostly clubthe Headless Huntbut has been repeatedly denied because his head wasnt fully severed. Thats a real shame, Harry said sincerely. It is. But the point isnt the executioners lack of skillits the fact that a wizards cause of death remains imprinted on their ghostly form, McGonagall continued, shaking her head. ...I remember the Bloody Baron of Slytherin, Harry murmured as he recalled. His robes are still stained with blood from the moment he died. Exactly! McGonagall said excitedly. When the body is damaged, the soul is altered accordingly, even affecting the form a ghost takesdo you understand now, Harry? You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. You are too fixated on the intangible nature of spirits, she said sharply. But spirits are influenced by the physical world. Didnt you just say that if people irrationally worship or fear something, that very belief can give rise to a spirit? ...Yes. Harry couldnt deny it. And that is precisely the issue, isnt it? McGonagall stated clearly. You expect something that is inherently shaped by peoples actions and beliefs to remain unchanged foreverbut how could that possibly be? A sudden realization struck him. Harrys eyes widened as he stared into Professor McGonagalls gaze. It was like swallowing an ice cube on a sweltering summer dayso clear, so vast. I admire your perspective on the world, Harry, she said gently. You have a kind heart, and you strive to treat everything around you with fairnesseven the unseen. But you must understand this, Harrynothing in this world remains unchanged, McGonagall said, her voice steady. Just as grass sprouts and withers, as people grow and pass away, thoughts, too, evolve with experience and exposure. That is growth. When that growth is reflected in the soul, it makes each of our spirits uniquejust as our physical forms distinguish us in the real world. Even wizards, wielders of magicthis miraculous forcecannot escape this fundamental truth. As she spoke, McGonagall waved her wand. The hairpin on the table began shifting forms. It became a mouse. A cat. A beetle. And in Harrys eyes, its spirit changed as well, before finally returning to its original form. Though its form had altered repeatedly, one thing remained constantthe radiant, gentle warmth he had sensed from the beginning, filled with a deep blessing. I admire your ideals, McGonagall said earnestly. You aspire to become a balancer of elemental forcesthat is commendable. But Harry, you are not separate from this world. You exist within it. And because of that, everything you doyour thoughts, your actions, your magicwill inevitably affect those around you. How could you ever remove yourself from that equation? She shook her head. That would be arrogance, Harry. Pure arrogance. "So, in my view, Transfiguration isn''t about distorting an object. To be honest, the term itself feels a bit too harsh," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. She gestured toward the hairpin on the table and continued, "It remains what it is, doesn''t it? This was a gift from my husband, and my thoughts of him... have not changed in the slightest." As she spoke, Harry drew his wand, glanced around, and then pointed it at a students submitted essay, casting a Transfiguration spell. "You were right, Professor." Closing his eyes, Harry let out a long breath, his voice sincere. "I was too arrogant. I had been caught in my own stubborn thinking." The next second, the essay began to shiftcurling, folding, reshaping itself into the form of a cat. Unlike the struggles and halts he had encountered before, this time the transformation was seamless, flowing without the slightest pause. When Harry finally lowered his wand, a tabby cat sat atop the desk, calmly grooming its fur. The markings around its eyes bore a striking resemblance to the spectacles Professor McGonagall woreprecisely the Animagus form she had demonstrated to the first-year students in their very first Transfiguration lesson. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. "Congratulations, Harry, you did it." Professor McGonagall applauded, her eyes filled with approval. She glanced at the cat, then back at Harry with a teasing note in her voice. "Its a remarkable likenessyour observational skills are almost too keen. If only this were during class, Id be giving you ten points for it." "May the Mother of the Land watch over you, Professor." Harry tapped his chest with his right hand in an ancient gesture of respect, his tone filled with gratitude. "Thank you for your guidance." "As a professor, it''s my duty to help students overcome their doubts and difficulties." McGonagall''s expression softened. "I imagine this time, you''ve truly felt the essence of Transfiguration?" Teaching students, Quidditch, and Transfigurationthese were the three things Professor McGonagall cherished most. "Yes, I believe I finally understand the allure of Transfiguration, and everything youve said just now." Harry spoke with enthusiasm. "No form of spirit is born from nothing, and the essence of an object is shaped by the foundation of its existencejust as our own spirit is rooted in our bodies." "When I transformed that piece of parchment into a cat just now, I could feel the entire process clearly. It was completely different from what I had imagined before." His expression turned thoughtful as he reached out to pick up the tabby cat, scratching its chin. The cat purred contentedly, rubbing against his fingers with unmistakable affection. Then, Harry looked uponly to find Professor McGonagall watching him with a peculiar expression. He gave a slightly awkward chuckle and hastily placed the cat back on the desk. He had nearly forgottenthis cat bore an uncanny resemblance to McGonagalls Animagus form. That was close. Very close. "Fascinating!" Harry exclaimed, still savoring the sensation of casting the spell. "I didn''t need to consciously control its legs or body movements. The transformation wasn''t just about changing its shapethe parchment didn''t remain a lifeless thing, it became a living creature!" "I gave it everything a cat should havethe internal structure, the temperament, the voice. I turned it from an ordinary piece of parchment into an actual cat." Harry analyzed his own spell carefully. "But it''s only temporary," McGonagall interjected. "Once your magic dissipates, it will revert to parchment." "Exactly." Harry nodded. "Its as if I placed a label on the parchment, and for as long as the label remains, it becomes what the label says. But once the label is removed, the parchment is still parchmentit never truly changed." "Its incredible," Harry murmured in wonder. "When I transfigured the parchment into a cat, it felt like I was redefining its existence. Magic filled in all the missing details based on my understanding of what a cat should be. Yet, it didnt create a false or temporary spiritat its core, it remains parchment." "It''s like digging a deep pit in the ground," Harry continued, "and the moment it connects to the sea, the water naturally flows in to fill it. It''s amazing. Is this what magic truly is?" Wizards only needed to take the first stepmagic and magical energy would take care of the rest. "I believe you''ve truly stepped onto the path of Transfiguration now, Harry. Keep exploring." McGonagall smiled. "I recommend subscribing to Today''s Transfigurationit features many fascinating stories and the latest research in the field." "As for past issues, you may borrow them from me." With a flick of her wand, a stack of magazines flew out from a nearby cabinet and landed beside Harry. "I''ve included my own notes and insights on each articleyou may find them useful for your studies." "Thank you, Professor," Harry said earnestly. "I will cherish them." Professor McGonagall had always shown him great care, but these annotated magazines were a particularly generous gift. They would be invaluable in helping him master Transfigurationthis was knowledge that couldnt simply be bought with money. No matter where one was, knowledge was always the most precious treasure. Harry would remember this kindness. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 47: Animagus and Detention Lifted "No need to be modest, Harry. If you ever achieve any breakthroughs in the future, you can also submit your work to them," Professor McGonagall said enthusiastically. "I remember they have a ''Most Promising Newcomer Award,'' specifically for young talents in Transfiguration. You should give it a try." "I will," Harry joked. "If I actually manage to discover something." "Believe in your talent," Professor McGonagall said warmly, looking at Harry. "Both your father and mother were outstanding wizards, each in their own way. You wont be an ordinary wizard either, Harry." Thinking of her two former students, Professor McGonagall spoke with absolute certainty. And Harry well, now that his parents had been brought up, he didnt really have much else to say. "Speaking of which, Professor," Harry suddenly remembered something he had been meaning to ask McGonagall for a long time. "The spell you use to transform into a tabby catthats called Animagus, right?" "Thats right," Professor McGonagall nodded. "Are you interested in becoming an Animagus?" "Who wouldnt be curious about what kind of animal theyd turn into?" Harry joked. "I just hope I dont end up as a fish flopping helplessly on the ground." "If your Animagus form were a fish, youd probably never have the chance to use the spell in your lifetime," Professor McGonagall said with a rare touch of humor. "But rather than a fish, Id say youre more likely to turn into a bull." As she said this, her gaze lingered on the pair of horns atop Harrys head. A bulla minotaur "Uh, I think there''s a significant difference," Harry barely managed to keep a straight face as he quickly compared the two images in his mind and shook his head. An age-old question: Do minotaurs eat beef? Harry could confidently provide an answeryes. Not only do they eat it, but they have various cooking methods: steamed, boiled, roasted, pan-fried, braisedyou name it. Rich in nutrients and quite delicious, actually. "Alright, perhaps they are different," Professor McGonagall shrugged. "In any case, if your studies progress well, you should be able to start practicing Animagus transformations by your third year. By then, your body should have enough magical power." "But I must warn you in advance, Harry," Professor McGonagalls tone turned serious. "Animagus transformation is an extremely dangerous form of magic. Throughout history, many wizards have suffered excruciating deaths due to failed transformations caused by insufficient mastery of Transfiguration. I dont want you to be the next." "So promise menever attempt it in private. Do you understand?" "I promise, Professor," Harry nodded solemnly. "Good." Professor McGonagall no longer looked as severe. She continued, "Besides, the Ministry of Magic has strict regulations on Animagi. Every registered Animagus must report to the MinistryI expect you to do the same. If you master Animagus transformation, you must register." "Like you? The seventh registered Animagus of this century?" Harry asked. "I read that the Ministry places special identification markers on registered Animagi to help quickly identify them in case of incidents." "Thats correct. If you have any thoughts of violating the law and becoming an unregistered Animagus, youd best abandon that idea now and not learn the magic at all," Professor McGonagalls sharp gaze bore into him. "Of course not," Harry shook his head. "Good." Professor McGonagall sighed, though she still didnt look entirely convinced. "In any case, todays lesson has gone on long enough. Mr. Potter, you should get some rest." She seemed to have reverted to her usual strict and formal demeanor, even addressing him as "Mr. Potter" instead of "Harry." "Thank you for your guidance, Professor McGonagall," Harry said, bowing slightly before preparing to leave. "Ill be off then." "Wait a moment." Just as Harry took a few steps, Professor McGonagall suddenly called out, "About your Shaman Club." "The review went through?" Harry turned around and asked. "It did." Professor McGonagall sighed. "In fact, it was essentially approved by Professor Dumbledore alonebut from now on, Im curious to see what exactly you plan to teach in that club." "Be prepared, Mr. Potter," she pressed her lips into a thin line. "Think ahead and have responses ready for every possible question. Dont let your students curiosity stump you." Was she worried that his club might fail? Harry understood. "Alright, Professor, thank you for the advice. Ill be well prepared," he nodded, reaching for the door to leave. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Wait!!" He was stopped again. "Ive thought it over, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said seriously. "Regarding your Saturday night detentionsyou no longer need to copy the school rules." "What do you mean?" Harry didnt immediately catch on. "I mean your detention is overunless, of course, you want to continue copying. I wouldnt mind." "Absolutely not, thank you, Professor," Harry quickly said. "Good. Off you go then," Professor McGonagall commanded in her usual authoritative tone. Turning around, Harry reached for the door once morebut just before closing it completely, he hesitated, then turned back and asked, "Is there anything else, Professor?" He was a bit worried hed be called back again. Constantly turning around like this was straining his neck. "Actually, yes," Professor McGonagall looked as if she wanted to laugh but held it in, her lips pressed tightly together. "Your first match is coming up soonhows your preparation?" After Halloween, Hogwarts Quidditch season would begin, with the first match being Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. No wonder Professor McGonagall suddenly looked even sterner than before. "Well win," Harry answered with certainty. "Will you?" Professor McGonagall nodded. "Dont let me down Now go, really go this time." It was obviousthis strict old professor truly loved Quidditch. As a student walking out of the classroom with a stack of magazines, Harry understood instantlyhe knew exactly how to repay Professor McGonagall for her help. And of course, that meant delivering a spectacular, Gryffindor-style victory in the next Quidditch match. Stepping out of the Transfiguration classroom, Harry glanced out the window. The sky was already darkeningit was nearly dinnertime. Still, he decided to find a nearby empty classroom to review his notes before heading back. Specifically, notes on how Transfiguration could be applied in dueling. If he returned with just a stack of magazines and no summary of the class, Hermione would kill him. She had already looked a little red-eyed earlier, and Harry had no intention of provoking her further. As expected, the moment Hermione snatched Harrys class notespractically grabbing them out of his handsand skimmed through them, she visibly sighed in relief. After Harry promised to let her read the magazines McGonagall had lent him, Hermione finally let him off the hook and returned to her mountain of homework. "I think Hermiones gone a bit mad, Harry," Ron muttered quietly in Harrys ear. "Never mind everyone elseright now, all she wants is to outdo you." "Keep your voice down, Ron," Harry warned, lowering his tone. "Shes already under a lot of pressure." And she really was. So much so that Harry and Ron had to sneak into their dorm just to play a game of wizard chess in peace. Playing in the Gryffindor common room was out of the question. "Seriously though, I think shes taking it too far," Ron grumbled as he finally spoke at full volume in the dormitory. "You know what, Harry? I dont even dare to praise you in front of her anymoreif I do, she just gives me this absolutely terrifying look." "Maybe you should stop going on about me, then," Harry shot back. "The way you talk, youd think I was about to surpass Dumbledore or something." "Oh, thats for later," Ron waved a hand dismissively. "Youre still young. Give it a few years after graduationyoull definitely catch up to Dumbledore." "Wow, thanks for the confidence," Harry said dryly, rolling his eyes. "No need to thank mewere friends, after all!" Ron patted his chest with an air of absolute certainty. "But seriously, I think Hermiones being really unfair. Shes jealous just because her friend got better grades than her, and thats just wrong!" "Especially when that friend is Harry Potterthe most famous wizard in the entire magical world!!" "Uh, I dont think its that extreme" Neville chimed in cautiously from where he was watching the chess game. "I really dont think Hermiones a bad person. Shes just really competitive." "Pfft, I dont get why she feels the need to prove shes better than Harry," Ron huffed. "I mean, shes just" BANG!! A loud noise cut Ron off mid-sentence. His hand jerked, and the chess piece he was holding flew straight to the floor. "Hermione!!!" Ron yelped from his spot on the bed, voice laced with guiltthe exact kind of guilt that comes from being caught talking behind someones back. And, of course, the one who had just shoved the dormitory door open was none other than Hermione. She stood there, eyes wide, surveying the scene. "Hey, you cant just barge into the boys dorm like this!" Ron protested. "I meanwhat if we were doing something, yknow, inappropriate for girls to see?" "Huh? Like what?" Neville asked blankly, looking up. No one had an answer. Except Ron. "Likelike practicing magic!!" Ron blurted out as inspiration struck. "Hermione hates it when were better than her at something!" "Dont be ridiculous, Ronald!" Hermione snapped, her voice carrying enough authority to make Ron instinctively shrink back onto his bed. She had even used his full name. His full nameRonald Bilius Weasleywas rarely used. Practically everyone just called him Ron. But when someone used that name well, it meant trouble. Still seething, Hermione brandished a slip of parchment in her hand. "Weve got detention! All of us!" "WHAT?!!" Ron shot up from the bed, utterly flabbergasted. "Detention?! For what?! We didnt do anything!! Were innocent!!" At this point, he had completely abandoned his complaints about Hermione barging into the boys dorm. Mouth agape, he stared at her in stunned disbelief, his voice full of desperate protest. "Its for what happened on the train!!" Hermione shrieked. "Merlin, I completely forgot about it! McGonagall did say wed get our punishment in the third week of school!" With a loud thud, Ron collapsed back onto the bed, looking even more dazed than before. "Oh right," he muttered dumbly, turning to Harry. "That did happen, huh. What do we do, Harry?" "What else can we do?" Harry said, exasperated. "Youre not seriously thinking about running away from Hogwarts to avoid one detention, are you?" "Yeah, youre right," Ron sighed, thoroughly deflated. "If Mum found out I left Hogwarts, shed kill me." "Thats obviously just a figure of speech," Hermione huffed, marching over to Rons bedside and glancing disdainfully at the chessboard. "I cannot believe you two are just lazing around playing chess! Ive barely had enough time to finish all my reading, and now I have to waste even more time because of this detention! Honestly, I dont know how you two can be so shameless. If it were me, Id be using those magazines Harry brought back to refine my essayat least that way, it wouldnt look so awful when I turn it in." "Three sentences, Hermione. Youve gone over three sentences," Ron groaned, burying his face in his hands. "For Merlins sake, just tell us what the detention is already." "Fine, fine," Hermione huffed loudly before lifting the parchment. "Harry, youve got detention with Hagrid. Neville, youre with Filch. And RonSnape specifically requested you." "NOOOOO!!!!" Ron flopped back dramatically onto the bed, howling in despair as if the world had just ended. "Hes going to poison me!!" He shot upright again, face full of terror. "Thisthis has to be some kind of mistake! Are you sure this isnt one of Fred and Georges pranks?!" ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 48: Straight Talk—Ronald and the Blood Feud with the Centaurs "Its obvious, as a professor, Professor Snape isnt going to poison you to death," Hermione said sarcastically. "And have you forgotten? Fred and George are serving detention too. They were part of the second wave that joined the fight." "As senior students, I imagine their punishment will be even worseParvati came in with a whole stack of notes! No one who was involved in that train brawl is getting away scot-free!" Hermione looked almost numb. "I even saw Percy get one!!" "Well, that makes sense," Ron said dryly. "I remember someone punched Percy in the eye, and then he just jumped inno idea who did it, but I gotta say, good job." "Thats your brother, Ron!" Hermione shot him a glare. "You can''t say that about him!" "Alright, alright," Ron muttered, then looked at Harry with a desperate expression. "Seriously, Harry, can you do a Divination for me? See if Ill make it back alive from Snapes detentionbecause if not, Im not going!" "Sorry, Ron, but I dont see the point in predicting something when we already know the outcome," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Professor Snape may be unpleasant, but hes still a professorhes not going to kill you. Youre being a little unfair to him." "Ha! Im being unfair to him?" Ron''s voice rose before he suddenly lowered it again. "Its not just a little unfairIve never thought he was anything but horrible!" "I''m afraid, Harry, youre the only person in all of Hogwarts who thinks Snape is just bad at expressing himself," Ron sighed dramatically. "Youve seen how he treats me. Merlin, what fresh torment is he going to come up with tonight?" "Will he make me squeeze Flobberworm mucus with my bare hands? Or have me taste-test one of his new experimental potions?" Looking utterly defeated, Ron had already started imagining the gruesome horrors that awaited him that evening. "Uh, what about me?" Neville asked blankly, turning to Harry. "Can I get a Divination? Honestly, I think Filch might actually make me eat a toilet. Like, lick it clean or something." "Filch wouldnt do that," Harry said, barely holding back a laugh. "Hed never go against what Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall allowdont worry!" "Wait a minute!" As if suddenly snapping back to reality, Ron turned to Hermione. "What about you? Wheres your detention?" "With Filch," Hermiones voice wavered slightly, and there was even a hint of a sob. "What do I do? Ive never had detention before! I was never punished in my Muggle school either! Im doomed!!" Harry instantly understood. No wonder Hermione was this panickedshed never been punished before. She was the perfect student. The first time is always the hardest. "Ah, so thats why," Ron said, looking enlightened. Then he grinned. "Remember all those threats Filch always makes? Hermione, I heard from Fred that hes got a whole collection of shackles and whips in his office." "They say hes always wanted to string up misbehaving students and give them a good lashing. Who knows, maybe those chains are still stained with old students blood." "Shut up! Shut up, Ron!!" Hermione shrieked. But Ron wasnt stoppinghis fear of Snape was momentarily forgotten, replaced by the joy of scaring Hermione. He kept digging through his mind for more terrifying details to throw at her. "...Who knows what Filch might do? You know hes always wanted to punish students properly, and now hes got a whole bunch at his mercy. Hmm, maybe hell sneak in a few lashes when no ones looking" BAM!! Ron took the first Fist of Destruction. Before he could even react, he was hit by the Second Strike of Annihilation, followed swiftly by the Third Blow of Erasure. "I SAID SHUT UP!!" Hermione had punched with such speed that she completely forgot to be scared of her first-ever detention. Furious, she stormed out of the boys dormitory, leaving Ron groaning and clutching his face on the bed. "You went too far, Ron," Neville said sympathetically. "Hermiones smartshe wouldnt have believed you anyway You really only needed to say the first part." "Merlins kneecaps I cant breathe" Ron wheezed, writhing on the bed in pain. Regardless of how unwilling or terrified they were, detention was inevitable. As long as they wanted to stay at Hogwarts, no student could escape the consequences of their actions. "Wish me luck, mates," Ron said solemnly, as if marching to his doom. He gave Harry and Neville a quick hug before heading toward the dungeons. "Guess its time for us too," Neville swallowed hard before exchanging a nervous glance with Hermione, and they both left the common room. The scene in Gryffindor Tower was honestly bizarre. The room was still packed with students, chatting and laughingexcept every few minutes, someone else would leave for detention. With almost the entire Gryffindor House involved in the train fight, nobody was spared. In the end, it felt more like students heading off to a massive, cross-year lecture than a punishment. Harry watched as his friends disappeared into the crowd before turning and making his way toward Hagrids hut. As he descended the stairs, a strange feeling crept up on him. Something was off. Other students were either going to Filch, Professor Sprout, or Snape for detentionbut nobody seemed to be headed the same way as him. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. That suspicion was confirmed when he arrived at Hagrids cabin. Looking around, he realizedhe was the only student there. "Hey, Hagrid. Good evening," Harry greeted. "My detention is with you, right?" "Harry! There yeh are!" Hagrid was busy in his garden, straightening up when he heard Harrys voice. "Yep, yer with mehad ter personally ask Dumbledore ter let me have yeh for this one." "You asked for me?" Harry repeated. "What do you need me for?" "Ahahaha!" Hagrid let out a booming laugh. "Nothin too special or, well, maybe it is. Dyou remember the first time we met? When I took yeh to Diagon Alley?" "I remember," Harry said. "What about it?" "Centaurs, Harry! Remember? I told yeh Id take yeh to see their divination if I ever got the chance! You didnt forget, did yeh?" At the mention of Centaurs, every muscle in Harrys body tensed. Instinctively, his hand moved beneath his robe, gripping the handle of his warhammer. Not out of fear, but wariness. Any Tauren who heard the word Centauror Horse-Men, as they were sometimes calledwould immediately enter a state of high alert. There was a deep history behind it. The Tauren, known in their own tongue as the Shuhalo, were a noble people who embraced the natural world. Once nomads, they had since united upon their ancestral lands. In Harrys experience, the Tauren were a deeply spiritual racerespecting nature, honoring their elders, and upholding peace and honor above all else. They worshiped the Earth Mother and the Sky Father, living in harmony with the land. Tauren warriors were strong and reliable, but violence was never their first choice. Unlike the Orcs, who thrived on battle, the Tauren preferred counsel, reflection, and wisdom before taking action. But in rare caseswhen justice called for itthe Tauren would take up arms, their rage slow but unstoppable. And nothing fueled that rage more than the Centaur. In most cases, there were only three words that could truly enrage a TaurenCentaur. Mulgore. To the Tauren, Mulgore, nestled in the heart of the continent of Kalimdor, was the ancestral homeland where their people had lived in peace for generationsa land of tranquility, happiness, and beauty. That was until the Centaur stormed in from Maraudon, their stronghold in Desolace. Like a plague, the Centaur swarmed across the landvicious, ruthless, barbaric, and utterly merciless. These creatures murdered their own fathers and turned Desolace into a wasteland before launching their brutal war against the Taureninvading, pillaging, slaughtering. Though the Tauren fought valiantly under the blessing of the Earth Mother, they could not overcome the Centaurfor those beasts reproduced at an absurd rate. It was like trying to fight off a swarm of locusts. By the time a young Tauren could be trained into a warrior, an entire horde of new Centaur would already be born. After countless bloody battles and devastating losses, the Tauren were forced to abandon their ancestral homeland. With an unquenchable hatred for the Centaur, they wandered the endless plains, driven to the very brink of extinction. In the midst of this crisis, it was Harryunwilling to accept his own weaknesswho ventured out and returned with strange green-skinned warriors. The Orcs. With the aid of these newfound allies, Cairne Bloodhoof led his people in a final, desperate war. At last, the Tauren drove the Centaur from their land, reclaiming their ancestral home of Mulgore. After a thousand years of wandering, the Tauren finally had a land to call their own. For this, all Tauren would forever owe a debt to their Orcish brethren. And Harry... Harry had come to Azeroth in the midst of the Bloodhoof Tribes wandering. He grew up in that desperate exile, nurtured and protected by Cairne and his family. Under their care, he learned the ways and language of the Tauren, and in his ignorance, took his first steps on the path of the Shaman. Harry would never forget those darkest nightsthe times when the entire tribe would be jolted awake by war cries and the roars of battle. The battle shouts of Tauren warriors, their totem poles swinging fiercely, the cruel laughter of the Centaur, and the merciless slaughter that followed. Blood gushed forthCentaur blood, and the blood of his own friends. Blood and vengeance. Rage and hatred. And the bitter agony of being too weak to fight back. Hiding under a collapsed tent, powerless, as the gentle souls who had cared for him fell one by one before his eyes. Harry took all that helplessness, all that hatred, and forged it into resolve. The first enemy he ever killed with his own hands was a Centaur. He roared as he struck it down, severing its head with his blade and raising it high, letting its blood soak him. Harry no longer remembered how many Centaur he had slain. Old or youngit didnt matter. He only knew that when there were no more of those wretched beasts in sight, Cairne, his father in all but blood, finally built a sanctuary upon a wind-carved mesa called Thunder Bluff. It became the home of all Tauren tribes. ...Harry? Harry? Hagrids voice pulled him from his thoughts. When Harry snapped back to reality, he found Hagrid staring at him with concern. You alright? ...Im fine, Hagrid, Harry took a deep breath. Just... remembering some things. Some memories... once they surface, its hard not to get lost in them. Oh, oh... well, as long as youre okay, Hagrid said hesitantly. You, uh, looked a little scary just nowuh, maybe lets put the hammer away? That little hammer of yours wont do much against an angry Centaur. And if they see you holding a weapon, they might take it the wrong way. Hearing this, Harry looked down at his handsomehow, at some point, he had drawn his warhammer. And he was gripping it tightly. Dont mind it, Hagrid, Harry said as he slid the hammer back into his belt. So, where were we? Lost in thought, were ya? Eh, never mind, as long as youre alright. Hagrid shrugged. I was just sayingI went to ask Professor Dumbledore about your detention, and ran into Professor Snape. He was there to request your detention too. Hah, sounds like Im in high demand. Harry chuckled. And? And Dumbledore gave you to me, Hagrid chuckled as well. You shouldve seen Snapes faceblimey, I think I really upset him this time. Careful, Hagrid. You might want to watch what you eat and drink for a while, Harry joked. Snape is a Potions Master, after all. If you start feeling weird... run straight to the hospital wing! Madam Pomfrey might be able to save you. Hagrid burst into booming laughter. Cant be helped, Harry, cant be helped, Hagrid laughed so hard he started hiccupping. He clapped Harry on the shoulder and said, Centaurs dont hold their rituals every day, yknow. They only do it twice a yearonce around this time, just before Halloween, and once at the start of summer. Today happens to be the day of their ritual, and I figured you wouldnt want to miss itso I called you over. Better than detention, right? In matters like this, even if Snape is furious, theres not much he can do. Hagrid grinned triumphantly. Clearly, Dumbledore agreed that what I had planned for you was more important. Cant argue with that. Id much rather meet the Centaurs of the Forbidden Forest, Harry nodded. Though, watching their divination hardly feels like a punishment. Sounds more like a reward. Bet plenty of students would love that kind of detention. Oh, Harry, dont ruin it, Hagrid waved a hand. Would you really prefer to be scrubbing toilets under Filchs beady eyes? Or worse, spending time with Snape? Not that hed make you do hard labor... would he, Harry? Even when talking about Snapewho had made a habit of deducting points from GryffindorHagrid still called him Professor. But the castles caretaker, Filch, got no such courtesy. Despite his towering frame and imposing build, Hagrid now looked oddly pitiful as he tilted his head and looked at Harry. Dont say dumb things, Hagrid. Harry naturally punched Hagrids thigh, then started toward the hut. So, according to you, this is the last Centaur ritual of the year? Miss it, and well have to wait until next year. Do we need to bring anything? Do they accept Galleons? Oh, sure they do. Even Centaurs want things now and then. They usually ask me to buy things for them, and sometimes I help them sell their own goodsyou know, Centaur tribal crafts, Hagrid said as he happily followed Harry. Things like animal hides, herbs, and handmade trinkets. Some wizards really like collecting that stuff. But you dont have to pay today, Harry, Hagrid said proudly. Youre with me. And Im their friendso dont worry about it. Is that so? You dont look like youre just going to visit friends. Harry couldnt help but remark as he watched Hagrid swap into sturdier boots and start strapping on weapons. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 49: Harry’s Totem and Yet Another Prophecy Fulfilled? First, he strapped a short dagger to his leg. Though it was called a short dagger, that was only in comparison to Hagrids massive frame in Harrys hands, it was practically a longsword. Next, Hagrid took down a giant bow hanging on the wall, along with a few arrows as thick as two fingers each, their arrowheads gleaming with a cold, sharp light. Under normal circumstances, Harry would call this fully armed and ready for battle, not dropping by a friends house for a visit. To be honest, seeing Hagrid in this state actually put Harry at ease. After all, he really couldnt imagine himself bringing a basket of fruit and pastries as a friendly offering to the centaurs. Just picturing it made his fists clench involuntarily, and his scalp tingle. Me? Hagrid looked down at his own belly, then suddenly understood. Oh, Harry, youve got to understandwere going into the Forbidden Forest. You can find anything in there. Deep inside, there are even werewolvesuh, not that were going that far in tonight. So, if you think about it that way, tonights little trip being a punishment isnt wrong at all, Hagrid shrugged. Youre an exception, HarryI know you can handle yourself. But the others? Not so much. We could make a betif you told any other normal first-year wizard that their detention involved going into the Forbidden Forest, they definitely wouldnt think of it as a reward. That makes sense, Harry nodded, conceding the point. Are we heading out now? Now? Hagrid shook his head. Its still a bit early. You can rest inside for a bit while I get my things together Well leave when the sun sets. With that, Hagrid busied himself rummaging through his homehe seemed to be looking for things he had made to trade with the centaurs. Harry, however, didnt follow Hagrids suggestion to rest inside. Instead, he stepped outside and began searching along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He was looking for the right tree. It couldnt be too thick, nor too thin. It had to be just the right size so he could easily wrap his arms around it and rip it out while still maintaining his mobility. Most importantly, it needed enough surface area for him to carve symbols onto it. Before meeting with the centaursno, he should say the horsemen insteadHarry always found himself confusing the two terms. In any case, he felt he needed to craft a totem pole for himself. He couldnt just show up empty-handed. Even though he had told himself countless times that he had returned to the world he was born in, that this wasnt Azeroth, and that the centaurs of this world were not the same as the half-horse, half-man warriors he knew But Harry had seen their pictures in the Magical Races Compendiumand they were clearly, unmistakably centaurs! Just a bit leaner. Not quite as burly. As an old saying went, no matter how rational a Tauren was, they would always become irritable, aggressive, and filled with murderous intent upon encountering centaurs. Harry was no exception. Knowing something was one thing, understanding it was anotherbut Harry couldnt guarantee that if the centaurs werent particularly friendly tonight, leading to some friction between them, his instincts wouldnt kick in and make him do something irreversible. Once drawn into conflict, Tauren were relentless foes, fighting with every ounce of their strength, never backing down no matter the suffering or hardship. That was precisely why Harry, while still in a rational state, found himself in a bit of a dilemma. His body was still that of a child, and his chainmail and warhammer were practically toysgood for knocking around people, but not so much for fighting large creatures. Even Hagrid could tell that his warhammer wouldnt do much against the centaurs. As for using magiche couldnt very well open with a full battle sequence: Lightning Bolt, Flame Shock, Summon Fire Elemental, Call of the Stormkeeper, drop a Magma Totem, Lava Burst, Flame Shock again, then enter Ascendance form, Earthquake, Maelstrom-powered Lightning Bolt, Lava Surge and finish with Chain Lightning, could he? After all that, there wouldnt be any conflict with the centaursbecause there wouldnt be any centaurs left. No doubt about it. Harry was at least ninety percent sure that if a fight broke out, by the time he calmed down and realized what had happened, it would already be too late. Such was the unwavering confidence born from countless battles against centaurs, a blood feud spanning decades. The confidence of the bull! And then, the next mornings front-page headline in the Daily Prophet would read: The Boy Who Lived Massacres Centaur Tribe. Uh Not that Harry cared what others thought of him, but he couldnt very well slaughter an entire group of centaurs just because of a little friction, could he? According to Hagrid, they were supposed to be his friends. So after much consideration, Harry decided he needed a proper physical weaponnot the toy-like warhammer, but something that would allow him to gain respect and authority among the centaurs without resorting to deadly magic. A Tauren Totem. A solution that killed two birds with one stone. In Tauren culture, mighty warriors defended their homeland, shamans communicated with their ancestors, druids interpreted the will of the Earth Mother, and hunters learned from them all, ensuring the tribes survival. These four groups formed the core strength of the Tauren. For a Tauren warrior, many weapons were availablebut none were more revered than the totem pole. It was not only a symbol of faith but also a weapon that fully utilized their physical prowess. Notably, shamans also bore totems, not just warriors. As the son of Cairne, the greatest Tauren warrior, it was only natural that Harry knew how to wield a totem pole. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. With a flick of his wand, he effortlessly felled a tree of just the right size. After offering a blessing for its departure, he began crafting his totem pole. Stripping away the bark and carving intricate patterns, Harry had to admitthe unique magic of this world made the process exceptionally swift. No two totem poles were exactly alike. Each one told its own story. At the top of Harrys, he carved an image of a small child standing among three towering Tauren figures. It represented the moment he first arrived in Azeroth, discovered and taken in by the Bloodhoof tribe. The carving style was rough, almost primitivemore of a symbolic depiction than a detailed engraving. Further down, he etched the milestones of his journey in Azeroth: his first battle, his first adventure his encounters with Jaina and Thrall, securing the orcs aid for the Bloodhoof tribe, the Battle of Mount Hyjal Deathwing Pandaria the Burning Legion Slowly waving his wand, wood shavings flaked off with each movement of the tip. Harry carved swiftly. It didnt take long before the patterns on the totem pole reached the bottomits most recent and latest engraving: Harry arriving at a castle. Heavens, Harry! What are you doing?! Hagrid exclaimed as he hurried over. He seemed to have finished packing his things, now carrying a large black bundle in one hand while the bow and arrows rested on his back. Making my own totem pole, Hagrid. Standing up, Harry examined the now-complete totem pole. It stood about two-thirds of his current height, with a thickness of nearly five to six inches. You dont mind me using some of your collection, do you? Uh of course not, but this well, alright, a totem pole. Hagrid muttered, leaning in curiously to examine the carvings. So this is what you were talking about? The thing shamans need? Ive seen something similar among the centaurswait, whats that smell? Hagrid sniffed the air and then spotted the bottle at Harrys feet. Heavens! My brandy!! Hagrids eyes widened in shock. Youre not old enough for strong liquor, Harry! When did you take that?! Just now. Besides, this isnt exactly strong liquor, Hagrid, Harry said nonchalantly, waving a hand. Though I have to say, you have pretty good taste in spirits. Carving the totem had inevitably stirred memories of the past. Feeling somewhat unsettled, Harry had taken a few sips. Oh, well, thanks for the compliment, Hagrid said, looking conflicted. Though I dont know if I should be happy about that. Why not? Harry shrugged. Im a shaman, Hagrid. You cant treat me like an ordinary kid. Even Professor Dumbledore acknowledges that. Well alright, if even Dumbledore says so Hagrid muttered, convinced by the weight of that argument. So, what does this thing do? This totem represents my pastits my faith and my weapon. Harry patted the totem poles surface. Though its a bit small, just a temporary piece. Good timing, thoughmy shaman club starts next week. I can use this as a demonstration, so my lessons wont be too dull. Saying that, Harry raised his wand and gave it a flick. Horns, come! Hide, come! The next moment, from within Hagrids hut, a pair of long, curved horns flew out and landed in Harrys handshorns that had previously hung as decorations on Hagrids wall. Each was about the length of Harrys arm. Along with them came a large piece of animal hide. Judging by its texture, Harry guessed it was wolf skin. Hmm let me think. Harry waved his wand again. Flames, blaze! A burst of scorching fire shot from the tip of his wand, continuously charring the totems surface. The originally pale wood darkened into a light brown hue. There, thats perfect. Satisfied, Harry directed the two horns to attach firmly to the sides of the totem, embedding them deep into the wood. Finally, he wrapped the wolf hide around the middle, leaving a strap for carrying it on his back. So youre going to carry that to the centaurs? Hagrids eyes widened as he watched Harry deftly sling the totem onto his back. Didnt you say the centaurs have shamans too? Harry looked up at Hagrid with an innocent smile. Ive wanted to talk to them for a long timepurely professional exchange, really. Well, if you say so Hagrid muttered, still feeling something was odd but choosing to let it slide. Lets go! Hagrids dog, Fang, a supposedly fearsome but actually timid hound, was joyfully running ahead. Harry followed behind Hagrid as they ventured into the Forbidden Forest. For students, the Forbidden Forest at night was undoubtedly dangerous. Once darkness fell, many creatures emerged from their dens to hunt, and that wasnt even considering the numerous magical beasts lurking in the depths. This was where Hagrids expertise shone. Having been the forests caretaker for years, he knew the terrain like the back of his hand. The journey was uneventfulaside from one moment when Hagrid suddenly stopped, let out a loud roar, and then listened carefully. Once he was certain there was no threat, they continued on without further incident. The centaur settlement lay deep within the forest, but that didnt mean they were confined there. According to Hagrid, it wasnt uncommon to see centaurs patrolling the forests edges, sometimes even escorting wayward students back to safety. However, likely due to some kind of ritual tonight, they didnt encounter any centaurs until they could see the distant flicker of firelight through the trees. The sight before Harry was just like the illustrations hed seen in the library, and not much different from what he remembered of centaursmajestic horse-like lower bodies covered in brown fur, with strong human torsos rising where a horses head would normally be. Their human upper halves were bare, revealing muscular physiques, and bows and quivers rested on their backs. Truthfully, Harry felt his nerves stretch taut the moment he stepped into the centaur camp. The overwhelming sensation of being surrounded by potential enemies, with no escape, sent his instincts into high alert. Centaurs moved about, some tending to a massive bonfire in the middle, where chunks of meat roasted on spits. Yet what truly surprised Harry was the presence of wizardssmall groups seated around smaller fires, some watching warily, others engaged in hushed conversation. Harry discreetly nudged Hagrids leg with his fist, and when Hagrid looked down, Harry subtly pointed toward the wizards. Dark wizards? he whispered. Not exactly, Hagrid replied in a low voice, shaking his head slightly. Lets just say theyve got connectionsenough to track down the centaur tribe deep in the Forbidden Forest. Remember what I told you, Harry? Centaur divination is rare and valuable. Most importantly, its not something money alone can buyyou need to earn the right. Wont Dumbledore intervene? Harry asked. It seems risky for them to be here. Oh, Harry, dont forget my job. Im here to keep an eye on things. Hagrid grinned. Hogwarts is a lot bigger than you think. Even Dumbledore cant watch every corner. Our job is to keep the castle safe. Besides, even professors sometimes need to acquire things they cant exactly buy in Diagon Alley. Hagrid chuckled, then suddenly smacked his forehead. Damn! Why did I tell you that?! Hogsmeade, the wizarding village adjacent to Hogwarts, was open to students in their third year and above. Harry hadnt expected such a place, so close to the school, to have its own gray areas. Then again maybe that wasnt so surprising. Oh! Forget what I said, Harry. And dont go blabbing about it to anyone. Hagrid gave him a sheepish grin. Trust me, no ones going to harm Hogwarts studentsthis school is the heart of wizarding Britain. No one wants that kind of trouble. Alright, Harry nodded. If even Dumbledore didnt object, who was he to question it? Anyway, enjoy the night, Harry. Hagrid patted his shoulder. Centaurs wont let harm come to their guests. I thought the Forbidden Forest belonged to Hogwarts, Harry mused. Shhh! Hagrid quickly hushed him. Centaurs dont like hearing that. They believe the entire forest is their domain and that wizards have no right to intrude though I think thats nonsense. Centaurs, resisting wizards, claiming territorythose words sent a chill down Harrys spine. Bloody hell, even centaurs have this attitude?! His heart pounded faster. Apologies for the interruption, but I must say something, an aged voice suddenly spoke nearby. To the centaurs, they are the true natives of this land, having lived in this forest since ancient times. Harry turned to the speakeran elderly man with graying hair. But what truly caught Harrys attention was the suitcase in his handone strikingly similar to the one he had once seen in a vision. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 50: The Scholarly Newt and the Centaurs Rite The suitcase that had piqued his curiosity suddenly appeared right before him, within arms reach. No, something wasnt right. The suitcase he had seen in his divination was newer, without the frayed edges. The one the elderly man carried bore the marks of timeits faded patches and scuffs spoke of long years and many journeys. "Oh! Newt!" Hagrid exclaimed, his voice filled with joy as he strode forward and enveloped the elderly man in a bear hug. "I never thought Id see you heredid you come because of the centaurs'' invitation too?" It was hard to believe such an expression could appear on Hagrids facelike a devoted admirer meeting a long-revered idol, overflowing with excitement. "Yes, I visit them every year, tending to their ailments when I canuh, Hagrid, thank you for the hug," the old man explained with some difficulty. To be honest, Harry could clearly see the hint of helplessnessand painon the old man''s face when Hagrid squeezed him in his enthusiastic embrace. Hagrids hugs were a little too forceful. "Oh, sorry! Harry, I shouldve introduced you first." Releasing Newt, Hagrid turned to Harry and said, "This is Newt Scamander, an incredibly brilliant Magizoologist. If you take Care of Magical Creatures in your third year, the textbook you''ll be using was written by him." "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, right?" Harry nodded. "When I first entered the wizarding world, I read it to learn about magical creatures. It was very detailed." No wonder Hagrid was so enthusiasticHarry knew all too well how much Hagrid adored magical creatures, especially those that looked particularly ferocious. "Hello, sir. Im Harry Potter. Its a pleasure to meet you," Harry said, extending his hand. "Uh, hello." It wasnt Harrys imaginationNewt looked a little uneasy. He gave Harry a brief handshake before quickly patting his suitcase and saying, "I noticed you were looking at it. Well, it is indeed a very good suitcase." Hagrid let out a hearty laugh. "This is a suitcase that makes the Ministry of Magic nervous, Harry! There are quite a few legendary tales about it." "Does it have any special properties?" Harry asked, intrigued. "Oh, now thats not my story to tell, Harry. But if you behave yourself, maybe Newt will invite you inside for a look," Hagrid said teasingly. Then, in a loud whisper that even Newt could hear, he added, "Newt isnt very good at talking to strangers, dont take it personally." What was this? A loud secret? And honestly, Hagrid, youre really not suited for keeping secretsespecially since youve just let slip that the suitcase is big enough to enter. Harry could see Newts discomfort. But he had a feeling that this difficulty in conversing with strangers only applied to topics unrelated to magical creatures. Because as soon as the three of them sat around the fire and the conversation turned to centaurs, Newt became remarkably talkative. "Centaurs are a truly unique species. They prefer solitude, avoiding both wizards and Muggles alike," Newt spoke at length. "Though they claim to have lived in these lands since ancient times, owning this forest as their rightful home, my research suggests they originally came from the mountainous regions of Greece, migrating to Britain a few centuries ago." "So that means Hogwarts was founded first, and the centaurs arrived later?" "Perhaps." Newt shook his head. "Its been too longno one can say for sure." "Then what about their origins?" Harry pressed on. "I mean, how were they created? Were they naturally occurring? Or were they the result of some ancient wizards experiment? Whats in their nature?" Harry was actively searching for a reason to distrust centaurswell, truthfully, he was just looking for flaws. Because just seeing centaurs made his skin crawl. He wanted to rid himself of that discomfort. A well-intentioned purge. Before he could say more, Newts hand shot out and covered Harrys mouth, his movements unexpectedly swift for someone of his age. "Youre quite bold, child," Newt said in a hushed voice. "We are in the centaurs territory. And for the record, they are a distinct speciesnot something created by wizards. Centaurs detest that kind of speculation." "Yeah, exactly," Hagrid added, poking the fire. "You should know, centaurs are a very proud race. They take great pride in their heritage, and they really dont like being used by wizardswhether intentionally or not." "Sounds like they have a strong sense of honor," Harry said dryly. He felt disappointed. "Uh, kid, I can hear the hostility in your words Have centaurs harmed you before?" Newt asked, equally dryly, his gaze flicking to the horns on Harrys head and the totem standing behind him. "Not them," Harry shook his head. "Lets just get back to centaurs, Mr. Scamander." "Alright then." Newt wisely dropped the subject and continued, "Originally, centaurs were classified as ''Beings'' by wizards. But in 1811, they themselves requested to be reclassified as ''Beasts'' to avoid sharing the same status as banshees and vampires." "The Ministry of Magic did set up a Centaur Liaison Office," Hagrid chuckled, "but its never actually done anything!" "Indeed. In the Ministry, ''being sent to the Centaur Liaison Office'' is a euphemism for being fired." Newt shared the joke, and he and Hagrid burst into hearty laughter. "And what about the wizards?" Harry asked. "Surely they wouldnt have willingly given the Forbidden Forest to the centaursits part of Hogwarts, after all." Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. For any British wizard, Hogwarts was sacred, full of cherished memories. "Of course not." Even Newt shook his head this time. "Centaurs are forest-dwelling creatures, found across Europe. A single herd typically consists of ten to fifty centaurs. The Ministry allocates designated territories for them." "So the Forbidden Forest is just one of those centaur habitats?" Harry asked. "Not just centaursthe Forbidden Forest is vast," Newt said seriously. "As far as I know, theres even a werewolf pack living deep within it. Theyve been neighbors to both Hogwarts and the centaurs for a long time, and they coexist peacefully." "I see." Harry nodded. "So the Forbidden Forest is a centaur reservation." He borrowed a term from Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Themlike a dragon reservation. "From a wizards perspective, yes. But from the centaurs point of view, its a different story." Newt said softly. "I think youre beginning to see how wizards view other species, Harry." "As the dominant ones," Harry summed up in one phrase. "But this forest was Hogwarts land first, wasnt it? If centaurs originated in Greece?" "Yes, theoretically," Newt sighed. "But Hogwarts has limited staff. Hagrid, as Gamekeeper, only patrols the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. The school simply doesnt have the resources to oversee the entire areaand the Ministry wouldnt allow the Headmaster that much power anyway." "And no Minister of Magic would want a war with centaurs on their hands," Newt concluded. "Especially when it comes to land and racial tensions. Centaurs are notoriously quick to anger." "According to Greek records, centaurs had a rather turbulent relationship with the locals. Many were heavy drinkers, rowdy and rough-tempered, always getting into fights with humans." Newt recalled his past travels to Greece and spoke in a low voice. The most famous conflict happened after a wedding. The centaurs got a little too carried away in their celebrations and actually tried to steal the bride. Naturally, this led to a large-scale warand of course, the centaurs lost. Newt couldnt help but chuckle as he spoke. To this day, scenes from that war remain one of the favorite decorative motifs for Greek pottery artisans. Alright, I understand completely now. Harry nodded. Centaurs, outsiders, treating the land that wizards had kindly given them as their own and then turning hostile, trying to drive wizards away. Crude, irritableit all matched! It all made sense!!! Wait a minute, Harry, your expression is starting to look a little scary again, Hagrid stammered. Are you thinking about something... terrifying? No, youre overthinking it, Hagrid. Harry replied with a perfectly natural expression. Speaking of which, Harry, Newt leaned in excitedly, that totem by your sideit is a totem, right? It looks very different from the ones used by centaurs, and it doesnt resemble the totems I saw during my travels in Africa either. Hmm, this kind of decoration and the patterns on it... May I ask about its specific meaning? Why is it adorned with bull horns? This is the first time Ive seen a wizard in Europe carrying a totem around. Because Harry is a Tauren, Newt, Hagrid casually answered on Harrys behalf. If you ask him, thats all hell tell you. A Tauren? The moment the topic touched on his area of expertise, Newts curiosity exploded, completely overshadowing his usual social anxiety. He spoke quickly: Tauren? I did travel to Greece to search for that particular creature recorded in ancient mythology, but aside from murals and pottery paintings, I found nothing. I am indeed a Tauren, Mr. Scamander, Harry stated with a blank expression. Are you? Newt frowned slightly. As far as I know, there is no recorded Tauren race in the wizarding world. The only references to such a being come from Greek mythology. And besides, the Potter family was human. I dont recall them having any unusual bloodline traits. Newt was nothing if not straightforward, and when it came to magical creatures, he was particularly firm in his judgments. Unless Im mistaken, the horns on your head were created through Transfiguration. Theres no doubt about it, kidyour species is human, not Tauren. As he spoke, Newt fell into thought. But this is strange... Your totem doesnt look like something haphazardly put together. The craftsmanship, the intricate details, even the inscriptions on itthey seem to have specific meanings rather than being random carvings... This definitely isnt something conjured out of thin air. No wonder... Newt muttered under his breath. No wonder Dumbledore asked me to come take a look... Huh? Dumbledore sent you, Newt? Hagrid widened his eyes. Oh, dont mind that, Hagrid. Newt looked a bit flustered, realizing he had let something slip. I just... um... Anyway, its nothing! What I mean isbased on my professional judgment, Harry, you are definitely not a Tauren! Newt was exceptionally stubborn about such matters. ... Harry sighed, his tone helpless. You could think of it as a form of self-identification, Mr. Scamander. It wont affect you in any way, nor do I need any special treatment because of it. For certain reasons, I simply identify more with being a Tauren than a human. Does that explanation work for you? Understood. Newt instantly accepted it. Geniuses always have their quirks that ordinary people cant comprehend. Just like how Ill never understand Dumbledores obsession with sweets... Just call me Newt, Harry. Mister sounds too formal. Newt had no interest in titles or excessive formalities. Wooooo! A deep, drawn-out horn blast suddenly echoed through the air. The three turned toward the source and saw a centaur blowing a large horn. The ceremony is beginning, Newt said excitedly. We can discuss the totem later, Harry. Youve probably never seen a centaur ritual beforeits quite a memorable experience for first-timers. The setting was a vast clearing within the forest, situated beneath a towering cliffside where the centaur encampment stood, their tents nestled against the rock. Four towering totem poles surrounded the clearing, each intricately carved with scenes of centaurs hunting and living their daily lives. Thick ropes woven from vines connected the poles, adorned with various animal bonessome small, some large, arranged like primitive necklaces, exuding an unmistakable aura of the wild. At the center of the four totems blazed a massive bonfire. The meat that had been roasting earlier was now gone, and the centaurs had piled on more wood, sending flames roaring skyward, painting the night in hues of orange and red. As the horn resounded, centaurs emerged one by onefrom tents, from the forest, forming an orderly procession. Their hooves struck the ground in rhythmic unison as they circled the fire, moving in a slow, deliberate dance. Harry noticed that many centaurs kept glancing in his directionor rather, at the totem by his side. Their eyes held an unspoken curiosity, as if they wanted to say something but held back due to the ongoing ritual. ...I thought youd try to stop them, Harry murmured to Newt. From their earlier conversation, he had gathered that Newt was an admirable personsomeone deeply knowledgeable about magical creatures, dedicated to their preservation, and committed to saving them from extinction. Yet during the ceremony, centaurs were offering their hunted prey to the firewolves, rabbits, deer, and even magical creatures like the Jackalope, the Bicorne, and the Burrowing Mink... I cant, Harry. Newt sighed. This is their way of life. It has been for centuries... Besides, centaurs are classified as magical beasts by their own choice. Meaning they arent protected under wizarding law, Harry concluded. Uh, you could put it that way, Newt admitted. Look, the ritual is officially beginning. The centaurs began chanting in their ancient tongue, their voices deep and resonant. As they moved around the fire, they bowed toward their offerings in reverence. Theyre giving thanks for natures bounty and the sacrifices of their prey, Newt whispered. This ritual softened Harrys hostility. At least it meant the centaurs werent just taking without thoughtthey understood gratitude and restraint. Unlike the centaurs in his memories, who knew only war and pillaging. The chant faded, and the centaurs turned as one to face the sky. The night was clear, the stars bright and countless. They stared in silence, unmoving. Ah, this I know, Hagrid muttered. Whenever I see centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, theyre always looking upat the stars. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 51: The Tauren’s Righteous Slaughter of the Centaurs!! Is that their shaman? Harry suddenly asked. He was referring to an elderly centaur who had finally made an appearance. The fur covering his lower body was no longer as glossy as that of the younger centaurs; instead, it had dulled to a dreary gray. His bare upper torso was adorned with strings of bone ornamentscentaurs rejected clothing, believing that remaining unadorned brought them closer to nature. Yes, thats their shaman. Hagrid glanced down at Harry and joked, Which makes him your fellow shaman. Compared to him, youre practically a newborn. Thats a good thing, Harry murmured. The presence of an elderly centaur meant that their kind did not abandon their aged memberssomething that would be unthinkable among the centaur tribes of Azeroth. In the centaur clans of Azeroth, the old and the weak were quickly eliminated by the younger and stronger members. It wouldnt be long before a weakened centaur was slain and replaced by a more vigorous successor. In times of famine, they would even resort to killing and consuming the weak among their own. As Harry silently evaluated this race, he considered what he would do if they proved to be savage and dangerous. If they posed a threat, he wouldnt hesitate to wipe out the entire centaur population of the Forbidden Forest. But based on his observations so far, he was both pleased and, to some extent, regretful that these centaurs were not mindless beasts devoid of culture or inheritance. At least this meant he wouldnt have to spend the night explaining to Dumbledore why an entire centaur tribe had mysteriously vanished from the Forbidden Forest. The elderly centaur shaman reached into a pouch hanging from his side, taking out handfuls of sage and hyssop, which he tossed into the bonfire before him. In an instant, a dense, fragrant smoke filled the airpungent yet invigorating. The shaman gazed into the flickering flames and the rising smoke for a long time before finally turning to the younger centaurs beside him, speaking in hushed tones. They listened attentively, heads bowed in deference. Occasionally, one of them would interject, but the atmosphere remained calm and reverent. Harry quickly recognized what was happeningthe centaur shaman was divining the tribes future, determining whether they should migrate and whether the coming year would bring danger. Can we move closer? Harry turned his head and asked. Were a bit too far; I want to see exactly how he performs the divination. Oh, no. Hagrid waved his hand and wrinkled his nose in distaste. They dont allow outsiders to come near during this part. And, honestly, I dont want you seeing what happens next up close. You should know, Harry, I may be allowed to attend centaur rituals whenever I want, but I usually choose not to. And theres a reason for that. Hagrid sighed. If I hadnt promised to bring you here, I wouldnt have come tonight. What do you mean? Harry tilted his head. The centaurs still uphold very... traditional rituals. Newt Scamander answered in Hagrids stead. He repeated, Very, very traditional. No further explanation was needed, for at that moment, a centaur led a deer before the shaman. Bowing his head, the shaman pressed his forehead against the deers and muttered an incantation, his hands continuously stroking its head and neck. Then, in a sudden motion, he slit the deers throat. As the steaming blood gushed forth, he dipped his fingers into it and smeared it onto his cheeks and forehead. Each centaur stepped forward to repeat the ritual. When the deer finally collapsed lifelessly to the ground, the shaman folded his legs beneath him and knelt before it, gently closing its eyes with his hands. He raised his arms high three times and bowed low three times. Then, in a loud chant, he invoked ancient words in the centaur tongue. On the third rising, he took a sharp blade and cut open the deers chest. With practiced hands, he widened the incision, even snapping apart the ribs on both sides. He then examined the organs inside, running his fingers over the deers intestines, heart, lungs, and liver... Haruspicy, Harry murmured, identifying the divination method. You really are far too knowledgeable for a child, Harry. Newt patted his shoulder. The centaurs have preserved this... rather brutal form of divination. Haruspicy, the practice of divining the future by examining the entrails of a sacrificed animal, was something Harry had encountered before. He had once traveled to Kul Tiras at Jainas invitation, where he had witnessed a similar ritual in Drustvaran event that had greatly troubled Daelin Proudmoore. Do centaurs only use animals for haruspicy? Harry asked. From what I understand, the more spiritually significant the sacrifice, the more accurate the divination. And humans... humans were the most spiritually significant beings of all. Using a human for haruspicy would yield the most precise resultsprovided one could set aside the minor inconvenience of morality and public decency. Of course, Newt replied in a hushed tone. I dont know where youve heard that, but centaurs only use animalsdeer, for instance, are highly intelligent creatures. The deers lifeless body was soon carried away. The ceremony seemed to be an all-night affair, with the centaurs mainly spending their time gazing up at the night sky by the bonfire. That was for the common centaurs. The shaman, however, had begun receiving the wizards who had come seeking divination. Newt and Hagrid led Harry closer. It was clear that Newt was well-regarded among the centaurs; many greeted him with respectful nods and smiles. Hagrid, howeverHarry could tell that his relationship with the centaur tribe was... complicated. At the very least, they werent exactly close friends. Some centaurs eyed Hagrid with suspicion. A large handful of incense was tossed into the firemore than just sage and hyssop. No wonder Hagrid had mentioned how costly centaur divination was. The thick, acrid smoke filled the entire tent, making it hard to keep ones eyes open. Harry clearly saw the wizard currently receiving a divinationtears streaming down his face from the overpowering smoke, unable to wipe them away fast enough. Anyone unaware of the situation might have thought something terrible had happened to him. Shackles, the centaur shaman rasped. The smoke is sinking, about to solidify... Heavy restraints. Cold. Suffocation. W-what does that mean? The wizard stammered, visibly shaken. Is it an omen of misfortune? This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The shaman gave no answer. Instead, he lifted his gaze past the tents edge, staring into the sky in prolonged silence. The wizard dared not interrupt, sweating profusely as he anxiously awaited further explanation. Saturn shines so brightly, in opposition, aligned with Pluto... The shaman finally spoke again, fixing his gaze upon the wizard. Saturn is growing brighter. What? The wizards eyes widened in shock, yearning for further clarification. But the shaman refused to say more. There was no room for protest. Two centaur warriors, armed with bows, stood at the tents entrance, watching closely. In the end, the wizard had no choice but to leave dejectedly. As he passed Harry, he muttered under his breath about how his money had been wasted. Harry watched as the wizard slumped toward the camps edge and Disapparated. This is how centaurs conduct divinations? Harry turned to ask, unable to suppress his curiosity. If nothing else, he was certain that if an orc shaman ever gave such vague and cryptic prophecies, theyd find an axe embedded in their skull before they finished speaking. After all, what kind of shaman performs divinations without wearing a helmet? Generally speaking, these vague and cryptic messages often come from the elements or the ancestors, conveying their will to the shaman. Sometimes, they are fragmented glimpses of the future, scattered and incomplete. And it is the shaman''s duty to interpret these messages and fragmentsthings incomprehensible to ordinary peopleand transform them into guidance that those seeking answers can understand. At the very least, the tribe must be able to grasp what they should and shouldnt do. A shaman who can only mutter cryptic nonsense that no one understands would be deemed unqualified, incapable of deciphering the will of the elements and ancestors, let alone predicting the future. The best outcome for such a shaman is being branded a fraud and banished from the tribe. The worst? A hole in the head. "What else would it be?" Hagrid looked at Harry, bewildered. "Divination is like this, isnt it? A bunch of mysterious, incomprehensible wordscentaurs are exactly like that." "No, no, this is just outright failing to communicate at all," Harry couldnt hold back. "If divination doesnt help the seeker understand what to do next, then whats the point of it?" "Young foal," a voice suddenly rang out. The centaur shaman had stepped out of his tent without anyone noticing. He stood before Harry, gazing at him intently. "The boy of House Potter... even among centaurs, your name is well known." "Thanks, I didnt realize I was a legend among centaurs too," Harrys voice carried a hint of irritation. He had noticed that with the centaur shaman''s appearance, the surrounding centaur warriors had begun closing in. Even Hagrid had grown tense. He looked like he wanted to reach for his bow, but Newt restrained him. "Harry? Harry! Shh!!" Hagrid called out in a hushed but urgent tone. Newt, for his part, didnt look any more at ease. He placed his suitcase on the ground, pressing one foot against it. But neither Harry nor the centaur shaman paid them any attention. "I doubt that wizard was pleased," Harry glanced in the direction the wizard had left. "He paid you a hefty sum of Galleons seeking guidance, yet he didnt get the answer he wanted. He didnt voice his complaintsnot because he accepted your wisdom, but because of the presence of your strong warriors." "Your story is no legend, child of Potter," the centaur shaman murmured. "As for that wizard... he lacks the gift of divination." "So you didnt even bother to interpret the prophecy for him?" Harry took a deep breath. "That was an astrological prophecy. We saw it, and we sworeswore never to defy the will of the heavens." The centaur shaman shook his head. "Never defy the will of the heavens?" Harry, who took pride in his craft, couldnt hold back his scorn. "Since the very first day divination was born, its purpose has been to help the seeker avoid misfortune. If it cant even do that, it wouldnt have lasted until today!" "The more one tries to escape fate, the more deeply they are ensnared by it. This is an unbreakable law." The centaur shaman shook his head. "Centaurs only observe the stars of fate; we do not intervene." "So you just deceive people with vague, meaningless words?" Harry snapped. "Taking a wizards Galleons but failing to clear their confusion or guide their futurehow is that any different from fraud?" "At the very least, you should tell him what he can and cannot do in the near future, or what he should avoid, shouldnt you?" "How dare you insult centaur divination!!" A sudden roar erupted as a burly, bearded centaur burst from the group. His black fur bristled, and he exuded a wild, untamed pride. He charged at Harry with a fierce, menacing expression, as if he intended to trample him then and there. But just as he neared Harry, he abruptly slowedclearly, his intent was only to scare him rather than actually attack. Unfortunately, Harry had no such reservations. Or rather, the centaurs actions triggered something deep in his instincts. The moment the burly centaur lunged at him, Harry instinctively tore the totem from his back, gripping it with both arms before swinging it in a wide arc BANG!! Years of training and the effects of shamanic potions had strengthened Harrys body immensely. His large totem not only compensated for his height but also carried considerable weight and force. The charging centaur collapsed on impact, his legs twitching, unable to get back up. He wasnt dead, but hed certainly be unconscious for half a day. "Bane!!!" A commotion erupted among the centaurs as shocked cries rang out. The brutal truth was undeniableBane, a centaur with a striking coat of black fur, had gone down in an instant. His body crumpled as soon as he charged, completely unresponsive. And his assailant? A little foal, shorter than Banes chest, clutching a totem nearly as tall as himself. "The wizard killed Bane!!" "The foal killed Bane!!!" "Kill them!!!" The centaurs'' shouts surged like a tide, and more enraged centaurs rushed at Harry. The herdthe crowdwas in chaos. No centaur used a bow; either they deemed it too difficult to hit Harry, or the sheer disorder made it impossible to aim. The wild little foal was far more agile than they had expected, leaping nimbly and using his totem to strike centaurs in the head and chest. Whoever took a solid hit from him would drop to the ground, twitching and unable to rise. This furious, untamed foal moved as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Some centaurs did try to take aim with their bows, but Harry seemed to sense it every timeeither dodging behind his totem or leaping onto the back of another centaur, forcing the archers to lower their bows in frustration. "Merlins beard! Harry!! We came here to observe, not fight!!!" Amidst the chaos, Hagrid howled in despair. "How am I supposed to explain this to Professor Dumbledore?!" THUMP!! As he wailed, Hagrid punched an oncoming centaur squarely in the head. The centaur crumpled instantly, out cold. Like a battle god, Hagrid even managed to grab another centaur under one arm. Then, bringing his massive arms together, he slammed two centaur heads against each other. They slumped to the ground, unconscious. "...Still alive," Newt muttered, withdrawing his fingers from the nose of a centaur who had just collapsed at Hagrids hands. For someone of his age, Newt moved with surprising agility, sidestepping an oncoming centaur with a quick hop. Although Harry had struck first, the majority of centaurs seemed to target Hagrid and Newt, the two adult wizards standing with him. Just as Newt regained his footing, another centaur charged at him. With a swift kick, he popped open the latch on his suitcase. A pair of thick, red-furred limbs shot out A moment later, the attacking centaur was effortlessly grabbed by the legs and flung aside. Before the third leg could emerge from the box, Newt hastily tapped the red-furred foot with his wand. The other two legs flailed wildly, as if ticklish, before retreating back into the box. With agility far surpassing that of an ordinary old man, Newt lunged forward, snapping the latches shut in an instant. For a brief two seconds, the atmosphere seemed to freeze. Newt, slightly out of breath, looked up at Hagrid. Covering his mouth with his fist, he coughed twice before saying, Well, I suppose Tina would be pleasedat least I followed her instructions to exercise after meals. Merlins big boots! Hagrid gasped belatedly in awe. That wasa Quintaped?! Nouh, I meanyes. Newt instinctively denied it at first but then sighed in resignation. Promise me, Hagrid, keep it quiet. Of course!! If the Ministry found out, theyd go mad. Hagrids admiration was genuine. No wonder its you, Newtuh, I mean, can I have a look? You know, once everythings settled. Thud! A centaur struck Hagrid on the head with a wooden club. Yet, as if unfazed, Hagrid simply rubbed his head, then knocked the centaur out with a single punchall the while never taking his eyes off Newt or rather, the suitcase beneath him. Of course, Newt replied, exasperated but resignedafter all, they had been friends for years, and he was well aware of Hagrids particular interests. But for now, I think we should first deal with this commotion. Hagrid, who adored magical creaturesespecially the ones with sharp teeth, armored scales, and the nastier their temperament, the betterwas absolutely thrilled. No problem at all! Hagrid was ecstatic. At this moment, he was practically bursting with boundless energy. As for Harry? Right now, he felt nothing short of exhilarated. A fight? Hell yes! Fighting centaurs? Even better!! ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 52: You Might Be a Bit Too Extreme They''re back. They''re all back. This moment, just like that moment. Harry rolled swiftly across the ground, narrowly dodging the spear thrust at him by a centaur. Arrows whizzed past, unable to even graze the hem of his robessome buried themselves in the barren earth, while others found their mark in the centaurs themselves. And HarryHarry wielded a totem pole with wild, sweeping force, striking down centaurs around him as if he were playing Whac-A-Mole. Whoosh! A longsword sliced through the air with a sharp, tearing sound. Yet, when it struck the totem pole, it only managed to carve out a shallow groovelet alone break through its thick, sturdy frame. In the next instant, Harry stepped onto the totem and launched himself into the air. At some point, a warhammer had already appeared in his graspjump attack! He swung it down viciously, aiming for the centaurs skull! Boom!!! A deep, muffled sound rang out. Panting heavily, Harry landed atop the centaur who had tried to ambush him and scanned his surroundings. There werent many centaurs left standing. In fact, Harry wasnt even the main force taking them downit was Hagrid. At this point, Harry could swear on his favorite little gingerbread cookies that Hagrid was absolutely not the full-blooded human he always claimed to be. His towering height and massive build could still be explained away as an extraordinary genetic anomaly, but this level of defense? No human could withstand this. Outnumbered, Hagrid had taken multiple spear thrusts and blade strikes, yet the worst that had happened was his coat getting torn in a few places. Even getting smacked in the head a couple of times didnt seem to faze him. Of course, Harry wasnt about to discriminate against Hagrids heritage or anythinghe was just feeling competitive. How could a Tauren be outdone by someone else in a battle against centaurs?! This was a disgrace!! Even if this was a battle where they were holding backit was still against centaurs! Harry steadied his breathing. Just then, another centaur charged at him, roaring in fury over the sudden attack on their tribe. "FOR THE HORDE!!!" With an even louder roar, Harry tore the totem free and charged straight into battle! Boom!! Anyone whos never been hit head-on by a galloping horse cant possibly understand the sheer force of impactHarrys totem did strike the centaurs chest, but in the next moment, both he and the totem pole were sent flying. "Harry!!" Noticing the situation, Hagrid let out a panicked shout and rushed over, catching the airborne Harry in a diving save. To be honest, the experience wasnt greatHarry felt like he had slammed straight into a brick wall, with no way to absorb the impact. Because Hagrid was the brick wall. "Cough, coughI''m fine, Hagrid!" Harry coughed twice and hurriedly patted Hagrids arm. "Now put me down!" "Look out, Hagrid!" Newts alarmed cry rang out from behind them. Hagrid instinctively turned while still holding Harryjust in time to see a massive beast swatting a centaur away with a single swipe. It was enormous, with the head of a tiger, long flowing red fur, and razor-sharp fangs and claws. Oh, sweetheart, youre gorgeous, Hagrid breathed in awe, entirely out of instinct. "A Zouwu, right?" "Wait! Dont look at it like that, Hagrid!" But Newts warning came too late. The next second, the massive feline twisted in midair, and its long tail lashed outsmashing straight into Hagrid. Hagrid barely had time to turn and shield Harry before taking the full brunt of the blow on his back. Harry could swear that the combined damage from all the centaurs tonight didn''t even come close to the pain of being slammed into the ground while trapped in Hagrids arms. "Get off, Hagrid," Harry gasped. "Youre too heavy." "What? OhMerlin, sorry, sorry! Are you alright, Harry?!" Hagrid scrambled to his feet in a panic, checking on Harryonly for Harry to grimace and hurl the totem pole over his shoulder. Straight at the centaur behind Hagrid. Boom!! The centaur staggered, then was promptly tackled to the ground by Hagridwho proceeded to hammer two solid punches into its head. It went out like a light. Very peacefully. Battles during adventures always seemed to break out suddenly, and Harry had long since grown used to itfast to start, fast to end. Centaurs werent accustomed to living in massive tribes, so they couldnt launch overwhelming numbers like the ones in his memories Plus, they were physically weaker than the centaurs he remembered. Sending the last struggling centaur off into dreamland, Harry leaned on his totem and casually plopped down on the ground. He was a bit tired. And a bit sleepy. The Forbidden Forests centaur tribe only had about thirty or forty members, topsbut even if they were pigs, taking them down without magic was still exhausting. As for the rogue wizards who had come to seek centaur divinations? They had all Disapparated the moment the fight broke out. A few particularly curious ones had lingered, hoping to witness the battle up close This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. But now that it was over, the moment Harry looked their way, they awkwardly forced smilesbefore Disapparating at lightspeed. "I never imagined, Harry, that Id actually end up fighting the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid groaned as he wobbled over and collapsed onto the ground, burying his face in his hands. "How am I supposed to explain this to Dumbledore? I even put you in danger!" "This wasnt how it was supposed to go Merlin" Despite being a massive, burly man, Hagrid looked like he was about to cry. "Dont worry about it, Hagrid." Completely unfazed, Harry actually burst out laughing. "Ill help you explain it to Dumbledoreafter all, the centaurs were the ones who threatened us first, werent they?" He couldnt help but smile. Sure, they couldnt kill them, but beating centaurs up was incredibly satisfyingespecially after learning about their history and temperament from Newt. "You can still laugh?!" Hagrid gawked at him in disbelief. "Youre bolder than your father ever was!" "Yeah, I definitely wasnt expecting that totem pole to be a weapon," Newt added as he sat down with his suitcase. "Honestly, I was stunned when I saw you use it to take down a centaur." Even now, the old man was still gasping for breaththis fight had been a bit too much exertion for his age. "I had no choice," Harry said seriously. "He charged at me first. I was forced to fight back." "Well, yes, thats technically true," Newt hesitated. "But centaurs generally refuse to harm children. They consider it a great dishonoreven when it comes to children of other species." "Really? Then they shouldnt have shown hostility in the first place," Harry shrugged. "Not that it matters now. Theyre our enemies, arent they?" "Thats the problem, Harry," Hagrid said worriedly. "Centaurs already dont like wizards, and theyre very proud of their race. Even if they started it, the fact remains that theyre the ones lying on the ground. I dont even want to imagine whatll happen when they wake up" "Then lets just kill them all," Harry suggested seriously. "Its too dangerous to leave a hostile centaur tribe lurking in the Forbidden Forest. What if they attack other Hogwarts students?" The air went completely silent. Only the crackling of the campfire remained. Newt and Hagrid stared at Harry, utterly dumbfounded. "I-Isn''t that a bit too extreme, Harry?" After a long silence, Hagrid finally stammered, "I mean, wiping them all out is just..." What Hagrid actually wanted to say was that it was madness and evil, but he felt he couldn''t say that to Harry. After all, the centaurs were the ones who had shown hostility firstHarry had only fought back in self-defense. Even coming up with such an idea stemmed from concern for the other students. So kindhearted, Harry. He had just escaped danger himself, yet he was already thinking about the safety of his fellow students. A little extreme, maybe, but his intentions were good. ...The more Hagrid thought about it, the more moved he felt. "Extreme? I don''t think so." Harry scratched his head. "You can''t just leave an enemy alive and then regret it later when they slaughter your loved ones. By then, it would be too late." "When you put it that way... it does sound like you have a point, Harry." Hagrid hesitated. "But there''s still the Ministry of Magic..." If he had to choose between Hogwarts students and the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid wouldn''t hesitate for a secondhe would always choose the students. Stubborn, proud, short-tempered, vengeful, and especially hostile toward other racesHagrid knew centaurs all too well. "The Forbidden Forest was designated as a living area for the centaurs by the Ministry," Hagrid furrowed his brows. "If we were to kill them, I don''t know how the Ministry would react." Due to his past experiences, Hagrid had always harbored a certain fear of the Ministry. "I doubt the Ministry would care much about this," Harry said seriously. "The Forbidden Forest never truly belonged to the centaurs, and no wizard would ever consider giving Hogwarts'' land to them. Just like how you, Hagrid, hate how the centaurs act like they own the place." "Newt already said before that the Mag" "Ahem! Ahem, ahem!" Unable to listen any longer, Newt let out a loud, deliberate cough. Seeing how the conversation had already progressed to the stage of discussing execution methods and consequencesdragging him into it as wellhe couldn''t help but interject. "I think things haven''t gotten that bad yet. No matter what, wiping out an entire group of centaurs is far too cruel." "But leaving them alive puts Hogwarts'' students in danger," Harry argued. "The centaurs already see the Forbidden Forest as their territory, and now we''ve fought them. If everything you''ve said about centaurs is true, then they definitely won''t just let this go." "I can''t deny that," Newt nodded. "But Harry, you''re still a child. You have to remember, tonight, it wasn''t just us and the centaurs out there. Do you recall the wizards who ran away?" "They''ll leak the information," Harry realized. "It''ll turn into negative press for Hogwarts." "Nonegative press for you." Newt sighed. "If people find out that the centaur tribe in the Forbidden Forest has disappeared..." "You''re Harry Potter. The Daily Prophet won''t Ah! Dumbledore! And Professor McGonagall! I''m so glad you''re here." The atmosphere shifted suddenly as Newt stood up, looking at the two figures that had appeared by the campfire. He almost seemed relieved. Honestly, discussing magical creatures was one thing, but Newt didn''t feel qualified to handle educating children. Now that Dumbledore and McGonagall were here to take charge, things were finally back on track. "Newt, my old friendso good to see you again! I thought you''d be stopping by Hogwarts first," Dumbledore greeted warmly, embracing Newt. "I had to tend to some injured centaurs first, so... well... anyway, back to business, Dumbledore." Newt gestured toward the fallen centaurs around them. "I''ll leave this to you." "Oh, I hadn''t realized your healing skills had improved so muchthese centaurs seem to be sleeping quite soundly," Dumbledore remarked with his usual humor as he glanced around. "This is no time for jokes, Professor Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall snapped, looking as if she might faint. "Hagrid! And Mr. Potter! What on earth is going on?!" Adjusting his totem, Harry stepped toward Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, while Hagrid followed behind him, looking guilty and afraid to speak. "Sorry, I was the one who informed them," Newt whispered as Harry passed him. Harry simply shook his head, signaling that he didnt mind. "We''re victims too, Professor McGonagall," Harry said first. "We were invited to the centaurs'' ritual, but when I questioned their method of divination, they turned hostile. We had no choice but to fight back." "Merlins beard!" McGonagall clasped her hands together, her face pale as she surveyed the chaotic scene. "How could you I mean! Mr. Potter! This is centaur territory!" No one could quite describe what McGonagall felt when she arrived via Apparition and saw centaurs sprawled across the ground. Dumbledore had received an urgent message from Newt, detailing the situation. Without hesitation, he had brought McGonagall with him. "I''m sorry, Professor McGonagall! This is all my fault!" Hagrid suddenly blurted. "I was the one who insisted on taking Harry to see the centaurs'' divination. Thats why this happened!" "Don''t apologize, Hagrid!" Harry patted Hagrids leg. "I already said, the conflict with the centaurs wasnt our fault. You have nothing to apologize for." "You dont seem to understand the gravity of your actions, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall reprimanded. "I had thought you were a mature young man, someone who knew what he was doing and had a strong sense of justicethats why I stopped your detention. But look around you! Not only did you ignore the safety of yourself and your friends, but you also attacked the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest!" "There''s no rule against attacking centaurs in the school regulations, Professor," Harry replied calmly. "And they were the ones who showed hostility first." "Because you questioned their divination during a sacred ritual! That was a provocation, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall snapped. "Im sorry, Professor, but as a fellow shaman with divination abilities, I cannot tolerate frauds parading around under the name of divination, speaking vague nonsense to deceive others. As far as I know, fraud is a crime punishable by Azkaban," Harry said, showing no remorse and making no effort to hide his disdain for the centaurs. "And since when has this world forbidden people from speaking? Since when is questioning not allowed? Have centaurs already taken control of wizards?" "Of course not," Dumbledore interjected before McGonagall''s temper flared further. "And yes, this world allows for questioning. Professor McGonagall is only concerned that you put yourself and those around you in danger, Harry." "I appreciate your concern, Professor McGonagall," Harry said sincerely, bowing slightly. "But rest assured, I only acted because I was confident in my decision." Strangely, despite Harrys apology, McGonagall looked even angrier. "Rather than dwell on how this happened, I believe our priority should be the retaliation that the centaurs will surely launch," Harry said, meeting Dumbledores gaze. "They are hostile toward wizards, see the Forbidden Forest as their domain, and have a strong sense of revenge and racial pride." "Then tell me, Harrywhat do you propose?" Dumbledores expression turned serious. "For enemies, the best solution is to eliminate them all," Harry said calmly. "No one can guarantee what the centaurs might do. What if they suddenly charge out of the forest and kill a student?" "Kill them?" McGonagall gasped. "Thats against the law!" "Actually, it isnt, Professor," Harry explained respectfully. "Centaurs do not consider themselves human. They see themselves as beasts, meaning wizarding law doesnt protect them." "Actually, it does," Newt suddenly interjected. "Under the Magical Creatures Protection Act." ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 53: Dumbledore’s Attempt and Malfoy’s Tears So, even under the Magical Creatures Protection Act, wizards are still allowed to kill magical creatures if they are attacked or are at risk of being attacked. Harry spoke seriously. Just like if I killed a few trolls or a Horned Serpent in the Forbidden Forest today, no one would come after me for it. Oh, Harry, dont underestimate trolls or Horned Serpentstheyre dangerous creatures. Not so easy to take down. Hagrid gave a professional assessment. Is this really the time to be discussing this, Hagrid?! Professor McGonagall was on the verge of losing her mind. Were not talking about squashing a few flobberworms in Potions class or plucking the feathers off a birdwere talking about dozens of centaurs! If you prefer, we can settle for expulsion instead, but we must ensure that the centaurs leave the Forbidden Forestor at least keep their distance from Hogwarts. Harry sounded somewhat regretful. I dont think youd want to see their arrows lodged in the hearts of young wizards, would you? Professor McGonagall took a sharp breathshe could already picture the scene Harry described. Harry wasnt wrong. Professor McGonagall was already somewhat convinced, considering she was well aware of how centaurs operated. Her gaze shifted to Dumbledore. Truth be told, McGonagall never had much fondness for the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. Compared to the safety of the students, the centaurs were insignificant. "Cough, cough! Cough, cough, cough!" Suddenly, a fit of violent coughing drew their attention. When Harry and the others turned toward the source of the sound, they saw a centaur with platinum-blond hair struggling to get up from the ground, only to fail repeatedly due to the dizziness still wracking his body. To be fair, this centaurs coat was quite strikinga pale golden color, reminiscent of a silver-maned horse. Centaurs centaurs do not harm foals, the centaur panted. He was in pretty bad shape, considering he had been knocked outtwice. F-Firenz? Hagrid seemed to recognize him. Its Firenze, the centaur corrected with a shake of his head. He finally managed to stand, still gasping for breath. Tonight Mars is especially bright. Oh, Merlins beard, not this again. Hagrid covered his face. Harry, just bear with it. Mars signifies conflict, Hagrid, Dumbledore said softly. It symbolizes action, desire, impulsiveness and violence. I suppose he means that the centaurs foresaw tonights events? Firenze noddedthen shook his head. Mars is growing brighter, he said. That is why everyone is so uneasy. Especially with someone in the castle He trailed off, but the look on Dumbledores face made it clear he understood what Firenze meant. Centaurs have lived in the Forbidden Forest for generations, Harry, Dumbledore turned to him. This land has been their home for centuries. To drive them out would be cruel, dont you think? Youre the headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore, Harry replied evenly. Its your responsibility to protect the studentsnot mine. Youre also accountable to their parents. Harming foals is a disgrace to centaurs! Firenze looked upset now, pawing anxiously at the ground with his front hoof. Well, its obvious youre not capable of upholding that principle, Harry stated bluntly. Especially that one Bain, was it? He was hostile from the start, and once the fighting began, the other centaurs joined in the attack. On the battlefield, we were all the samethere were no distinctions, only enemies. I believe that when centaurs view wizards as foes, they will not care about the so-called foal exception. Bane Bane is just short-tempered Firenze looked even more distressed. He wanted to defend Bane, but his conscience prevented him from telling a lie. Move your tribe deeper into the forest, Dumbledore instructed Firenze. When Tamsa wakes up, tell him this is my decisioncentaurs must not pose a threat to any Hogwarts student. Bane crossed the line. I understand. Firenze lowered his head, clearly dispirited. Dumbledore had taken the wizards side in this matter, but he had still shown mercy to the centaurs. He did not choose to wipe out the Forbidden Forests centaur population, nor did he exile them completely. To avoid provoking the centaurs further as they regained consciousness, Dumbledore led Harry and the others away from their settlement. Newt, however, left behind plenty of healing salves from his case for the centaurs to use. Could you escort Newt and Hagrid back first, Minerva? Dumbledore said casually. As headmaster, I grant you permission to Apparate within Hogwarts grounds tonight. Alright. Though she clearly had much to say to Harry, McGonagall merely gave him a long, searching look before agreeing. Hagrid shot Harry a worried glance, while Newt simply blinked at him. But neither of them objected to Dumbledores arrangement. Newt reached for McGonagalls arm, and the next moment, the three of them Disapparated. You dont mind taking a little stroll with a boring old man, do you, Harry? Dumbledore asked as he turned to him. Of course not, Professor. Harry shook his head, and the two began walking along a path in the Forbidden Forest. I imagine you have quite a few questions. Ah, indeed. Dumbledore nodded. For instance, that totem youre carrying on your backI noticed it bears an unfamiliar script. Thats Taur-ahe, Professor, Harry said without hesitation. It records my past. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Ive imagined our conversations many times, Harry, Dumbledore suddenly stopped and turned to face him, his eyes glimmering with curiosity. But I never expected them to be so frank. I walk the righteous path. I do nothing dark or shameful, so I have no fear of speaking honestly. Harrys tone remained calm. I know whats worrying you, Professoryoure concerned about my attitude toward the centaurs. A rather keen observation, Harry. Dumbledore nodded, acknowledging it. May I see it? Harry unfastened the totem from his back and planted it in the ground. Oh my, just from the bloodstains on it, I can already picture the battle you had tonight. Dumbledore examined it closely, then chuckled. Honestly, for a child, you speak of death with remarkable indifference. Perhaps thats because I am not just a child, Harry replied simply. Dumbledore fell silent for a moment. The design at the bottom If Im not mistaken, thats Hogwarts? he murmured. Yes, Professor. Harry gazed at the totem. As I saidit records my past. So the hatred and resentment you unconsciously directed at the centaurs that stems from your past as well? Dumbledores fingers brushed over an engraving. It depicted a blood-soaked battlefield, where a small figure stood among a group of horned beings, raising a curved blade as they beheaded a centaur. The figure seemed to be roaring at the sky. Ah, that was a moment of glory in my past, Harry said, pride evident in his voice. Because of magic? Dumbledore suddenly asked. It was abrupt and vaguebut Harry understood. Perhaps. I dont know, he admitted. But I have experienced something no one else ever could. Dumbledore exhaled a long sigh. Magic wondrous, unpredictable magic I ask only one thing of you, Harry. Go ahead, Professor. "I hope you can distinguish between the past and the present." Dumbledore gazed into Harry''s eyes, gently patting a pattern on the totem as he spoke. "Much like the centaurs in the Forbidden Forestthey are not quite what you are familiar with. I don''t even know what they are." "They do share some similarities, Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said softly. "Whether in appearance, temperament, or their actionsbut most importantly, I cannot stand their attitude toward divination. That is something I must uphold as a professional shaman." "But I promise you, Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said sincerely. "Ah-ha, in that case, I do hope you wont be too upset when you hear Sybills propheciestruth be told, I suspect Minerva has already stored up quite a bit of frustration with you." Dumbledore suddenly chuckled. "Sybill shes the Divination professor at Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "Hagrid doesnt seem to have a great impression of her. Could she be another fraud?" "Oh, oh, oh, Harry, don''t be so quick to judge, especially when you haven''t even met Sybill," Dumbledore shook his head repeatedly. "I believe she has real talent. You mustnt base your opinion on secondhand wordsdoing so often leads to many unfortunate misunderstandings. Now then, I believe its time for us to go. Minerva and the others must be getting impatient." "Thats it?" Harry tilted his head. "I thought youd have a lot of questions for me." "Not at all. My only concern is ensuring you stay on the right path, Harry. I believe that is what my many years of life have taught me." Dumbledore patted Harrys shoulder. "Now, take hold of my arm, and dont let go." It felt as if he were being squeezed through a rubber tube, his entire body compressed. When Harrys feet finally touched solid ground again, he was back before the familiar sight of Hogwarts Castlewith the added discomfort of a queasy stomach. Professor McGonagall, Newt, and Hagrid were already waiting for them. "Im really sorry, Hagrid." Harry stepped forward and gave Hagrid a brief hug. "For getting you hurt and for your clothes getting ruined. Do you have a favorite style? I think you might need a new set." "Oh no, Harry, I wont be taking your things." Hagrid chuckled, patting the holes in his coat. "You see, Ive been wanting to give those centaurs a good thrashing for a long timeespecially every time they call it our Forbidden Forest. Yeah, today was a fine day indeed." "I thought you were friends with them." Harry grinned. "If they really thought of me as a friend" Hagrid shrugged. "But its more of a mutual help arrangement, you know? We just happen to run into each other in the forest now and then." "Useful friends," Harry nodded. "But I think were real friends, dont you?" "Of course, Harry!" Hagrid boomed. "And since were real friends, you shouldnt refuse my gifthow about a suit? I think youd look quite striking in one." Harry looked Hagrid up and down. "Time for a style change?" "A suit?" Hagrid blinked and imagined himself in one. "You really think itd suit me?" "Trying never hurts," Harry said with a smile. "Ill have Madam Malkin make a particularly sturdy one that fits your style." "Alright well, thank you," Hagrid said, scratching his head with a sheepish grin. "No need for thanks." Harry patted Hagrids leg before turning to Newt. "And Im sorry, Newt, for dragging you into danger especially since youre a guest of that centaur tribe." "Ah, dont worry about it, kid," Newt muttered, looking a little awkward. "It was just a fight. Thats quite normal among magical creatures. I checked on themtheyre all fine." When it came to magical creatures, Newt could talk endlessly. But on other matters he always seemed rather withdrawn. "If you really feel bad about it, tell me more about the patterns on your totem," Newt suggested after a pause. "I noticed some depictions of unknown magical creatures on it." "Of course," Harry smiled. "Though you might have a hard time finding anything like them in this world. Just treat it as a story." "That sounds fine to me." Though neither Hagrid nor Newt minded, Harry still felt guilty for getting them caught up in the danger. "I never expected a simple detention to turn into such a big deal." As she approached Dumbledore, who was watching the scene with amusement, Professor McGonagall sighed. "This child really knows how to stir up trouble." "Isnt that fascinating?" Dumbledore chuckled. "Fascinating?" McGonagall huffed. "I just hope he can behave himself for a while." "Ah, perhaps Im simply too old now," Dumbledore mused as he turned toward the castle. "I truly hope Harry can bring some new energy to Hogwarts." "Too old?" McGonagall followed behind him, her voice growing fainter as they walked away. "If Im not mistaken, the report I gave you is still sitting untouched on your desk You dont get to rest yet, Professor Dumbledore." "Oh, spare me, Minerva" It was already late, so Harry didnt stay long at Hagrids hut. His punishment was overwell, if this even counted as a punishment. According to Newt, Dumbledore had some business for him to take care of, so hed be staying with Hagrid for the next few days. Before leaving, Newt also invited Harry to visit him tomorrowkeeping the mystery of his suitcases contents secret for another day. Harry already suspected the suitcase had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Still, he disliked people keeping secrets from him. As he left Hagrids hut, Harry stowed away his totem. After all, he intended to use it as a demonstration for the first meeting of the Shaman Club next week, so keeping it under wraps for now would add to the surprise. By the time he returned to the castle, it was nearly midnight. But he could say with certaintyHogwarts was particularly lively tonight. On his way back, he ran into several groups of students who had just finished detention, making the normally curfew-bound castle feel unusually animated. A tired kind of livelinessone look at their exhausted expressions made it clear that detention had drained every last bit of their energy. Some students were even leaning against the walls for support, loudly cursing Filch, Snape even Professor Sprout, who had assigned them to shovel dragon dungwithout magic. But by far, most of the complaints were about Snape. No doubt, Snape had enjoyed himself tonight. Harry could hardly imagine the state Ron must be in right now. Grumbling, groaning even cryingwait, crying? That couldnt be right. Harry, half-amused, half-curious, listened carefullythen grew serious. Following the sound through the first-floor corridor and across the courtyard, he turned a corner and spotted a familiar head of platinum-blond hair. Malfoy? Was Malfoy the one crying? "Enough already, Malfoy!" a boy snapped in disgust. "Because of you, Slytherin has been utterly humiliated!" "Yeah! What a disgrace! Wetting yourself in front of everyonehow pathetic!" "A disgrace to purebloods!" Voices rang out, followed by Malfoys furious outburst. "I did NOT!" His voice cracked, filled with sobs. "You bastardsIll tell my father about this!" Laughter erupted. Harrys expression turned complicated. On one hand, he hadnt expected Malfoys status within Slytherin to have fallen so far. On the other he couldnt believe Malfoy was still relying on his fathers name after weeks at Hogwarts. ---- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 54: School Bullying and a Brother with a Range Rover School bullyingthough Harry had never heard the term before, he was well aware of the phenomenon that occurred when groups of children got together. Kids, in general, had a strong aversion to those who constantly brought up their parents or teachers, as well as to those they saw as different or embarrassing. Just like Draco Malfoy right now. Under normal circumstances, given the Malfoy familys status, Draco wouldnt have been subjected to bullying even if he couldnt stop talking about his father all day. But he had repeatedly embarrassed Slytherin, and that was something they could not tolerate. Challenging someone only to end up wetting himself in fearbecause of that, every Slytherin student had been forced to hang their heads in shame in front of the other three houses. Especially the Gryffindors, who took every chance to mock them, saying all Slytherins were just a bunch of crybabies who wet their pants. The Malfoy family was indeed rich and somewhat powerful, but most of Slytherin was composed of noblesMalfoy was hardly their king. So when Draco Malfoy became a public disgrace, not even his familys influence could protect him. After all, his parents couldnt be there to shield him every moment of the day. And tonight, separated from his usual two lackeys due to different detention schedules, he found himself cornered by a group of Slytherin students. Bullying was something even Hogwarts couldnt entirely prevent. Professors and prefects couldnt possibly monitor every corner of the castle, and so, school bullying had always existed. You all seem awfully free. After a moments thought, Harry decided to step in and interrupt this unfriendly gathering. After all, the reason he had taught Malfoy a harsh lesson before was simply to stop the boy from constantly buzzing around him like an annoying fly. And in that regard, he had achieved his goal. Beyond that, Harry didnt hold much ill will toward Malfoy. At the end of the day, he was just an immature kid. Well, no matter what kind of person Malfoy was, his mouth was truly infuriating. Even when cornered by a group of people, he never stopped running itDaddy this, Mommy thatonly fueling their anger further. Harry figured that if he didnt intervene, fists would soon start flying. Potter? The Slytherin student leading the group turned to face Harry, his expression full of disdain. Stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you. I dont think the professors would appreciate seeing students bullying each other. Harry glanced at Malfoy Hmm, his face was still streaked with tears. Ha! Youre going to pull that card? The Slytherins burst into laughter. And what if I say no? Are you going to run and tell the professors? Dont provoke me, kid. Ignoring their laughter, Harry spoke calmly. Now, take your people and leave. There was no need for threats or raised voicesjust those simple words were enough to make the laughter fade. Because the entire school now knew better than to mess with Harry Potter. He was reckless, unpredictable, and completely unafraid of anything. Even though people mocked Malfoy, they also hadnt forgotten the insane broomstick flight Harry had dragged him on. That had been terrifying. From that moment on, everyone at Hogwarts realized that the Boy Who Lived was more Gryffindor than any Gryffindor. Unless absolutely necessary, it was best not to cross him. And most importantly, he had the formidable Snape backing him. Without even a parting remark, the Slytherins slunk away in defeat. Malfoy? Harry turned to the boy still sitting on the ground. Need a hand? No need! Malfoy scrambled up, hurriedly wiping at his tear-streaked face. Letting Harry see him in such a state was utterly humiliating. Mind your own business, Potter! I was just passing by. Harry sighed. Honestly, with your stubborn nature and your persistence despite constant failure, have you ever considered transferring to Gryffindor? I think youd fit right in. Youre the Gryffindor! Your whole family is Gryffindor!! Malfoy roared, red-faced with anger. Yeah, my whole family is Gryffindor. Harry waved a hand dismissively, ready to leave. Go find your two sidekicks. Kids dont hold grudges for long. Give it a few months, and theyll forget all about this In the meantime, keep a low profile. I dont need your help, Potter! Malfoy shouted, but Harry was already gone, disappearing around the corridors bend without a reply. Staring at Harrys retreating figure, Malfoy suddenly felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks again. Hogwarts wasnt fun at all. It wasnt anything like what his parents had described. Ever since school started, he hadnt had a single happy day. He had tried to befriend the Boy Who Lived, only to get beaten up instead. He had mimicked his fathers mannerismsso why was it that his father had so many friends, while he had none? Even his fathers friend, Professor Snape, who often visited Malfoy Manor, seemed to favor Potter over him!! (Snape is not Dracos godfatherthis is a fanon invention. It doesnt exist in the original.) Every time Malfoy thought about it, he felt even more wronged. With his familys close ties to Snape, all the praise Potter received in Potions should have been his! But now? Snape still looked out for him, but the moment anything involved Potter, he became a completely different person! Malfoy had even written to his father to complain, only to receive a scolding in return. His father had told him not to provoke Potter and instead to befriend him. That was the only way to maintain their familys relationship with Snape. But how could Draco Malfoy ever bring himself to flatter Potter? To be friends with him?! Especially after everything that had happened!! If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He had followed everything his father had ever taught himstay away from Mudbloods, take pride in pureblood heritageso why had things turned out like this?! And now Potter had even saved him!!! The more he thought about it, the more miserable he felt. Instead of heading back to the Slytherin common room, Malfoy crouched back down, burying his face in his knees. Meanwhile, Harrycompletely unaware of Malfoys emotional turmoilthought nothing of the incident. To him, it was merely stopping some childish bullying, nothing worth dwelling on. What did catch Harry off guard, however, was Ron. The moment he entered the Gryffindor common room, Harry was greeted by the sight of Ron sprawled facedown on the carpet, limbs splayed out like a crime scene victim. In fact, he wasnt the only onethe entire Gryffindor common room was filled with students lying in similar positions, forcing others to tiptoe carefully around them. Is it really that bad? Harry asked, stifling a laugh. So, what did Snape make you do? You look absolutely drained. No response. Ron lay there like a corpse. Let him rest, Harry, Neville said sympathetically from his chair. I heard from the other students who served detention with himSnape made Ron spend the entire night picking beetle eyes. Beetle eyes? Harry fell silent. A beetle was no larger than a thumb, and its eyes were only a fraction of that size. Sorting through beetle eyes all night I think Im dying, Harry, Ron finally lifted his head, forcing out a weak smile, like a dying mans final grin. All I can see now are countless tiny black eyesIm going blind. Barrels and barrels of beetles, crawling everywhere, Ron groaned, clutching his head. His grip was so tight that Harry saw a few strands of red hair fall out. And you cant press too hard, or youll crush the eyes! You know what? I feel like Im about to go insane from all those eyeballs. Ron suddenly pulled a dazed expression. I have to stay completely focused while picking them outnot too fast, not too slow, not too light, not too heavy. Its like theres something trapped inside me, and if I hold it in any longer, Im going to lose my mind. Corporal punishment. Hermione, slumped in an armchair, suddenly spoke in a blank voice. This is undeniably corporal punishmenteven in a Muggle school, this would be absolutely forbidden! The PTA would sue them!! But theres no such thing in the wizarding world, Hermione, Neville sighed. Muggle laws dont apply here. So what did you and Hermione do this time? Harry raised an eyebrow. Filch wouldnt have made you sort beetle eyes too, would he? No. Neville shook his head grimly. But he made us clean the most remote bathroomsoh, Merlin. Ugh! Nevilles words seemed to bring back a vivid memory for Hermione, who gagged before turning to Harry with a look of utter disgust. Why do people use the bathroom and not flush?! HarryFilch wouldnt even let us use magic! We had to scrub everything by hand!! Harry fell into silence. Compared to what his friends had suffered, he wasnt sure he had the heart to tell them what hed been doing tonight. No wonder there was a faint well, odor in the common room when he walked in. Hed assumed it was from the students who worked in the greenhouse shoveling dragon dungbut apparently, there were some real experts around. So, what about you, Harry? Ron asked weakly. What was your punishment from Hagrid? The Forbidden Forest, Harry said after a moments thought. We went into the Forbidden Forest, and honestly, Id really advise you not to keep asking. That was the last bit of kindness he could offer. The Forbidden Forest? Neville swallowed nervously. I heard there are even werewolves in there. Its really dangerousone of the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts professors actually died in there. Oi, dont say things like that, Neville. You know that class is cursedbesides, Harry made it back just fine, didnt he? Ron looked at Harry expectantly. So what did you do in the Forest? Were you collecting some kind of magical creature dung? Ron, it seemed, had dung permanently on his mind. Seeing the eager look on Rons face, Harry knew exactly what kind of answer he was hoping forwhich meant he had to shatter that fantasy immediately. Not quite. Hagrid took me to meet the centaurs in the Forest Shrugging, Harry briefly recounted his experience from earlier that night. He didnt go into too much detail, but even after he finished speaking, the corner of the common room remained silent for a long moment. That was an adventure! Ron finally groaned in frustration. Centaur divination, a battle, even Dumbledore showed upMerlin! I hate Hagrid! Why didnt he take me along for something like that?! Probably because he didnt want you to get kicked to death by a centaur, Hermione said dryly. Still, compared to her own miserable evening, Harrys punishment sounded almost enviable. This isnt fair! Ron let out a low growl. Why do we have to suffer while you get to do something actually interesting in the Forbidden Forest?! Dont say that, Ron, Hermione continued in the same dry tone. The Forbidden Forest is extremely dangerous. Didnt you hear? Even Hagrid got injured! Right, Harry? Im not wrong, am I? This was totally fair, wasnt it? To be honest, the look in her eyes was a little terrifying. It was definitely dangerous, Harry said firmly. You cant blame Hagridhe only took me because he promised me before the school year even started. And honestly, if you three had been there tonight, it really wouldve been too dangerous. I still think nothing could be worse than a whole bucket of beetle eyes, Ron muttered, still feeling bitter. Enough, Ron. Harrys right. Hermione, though clearly not happy, conceded, Surrounded by dozens of centaurs I wouldnt have been able to protect myself. But I never expected centaurs to be like that, Hermione frowned deeply. No matter what, the Forbidden Forest is Hogwarts propertyit shouldnt be their territory. They dont have the right to drive wizards away. Even Hagrid isnt too fond of centaurs. That tells you a lot, Neville said. And after hearing Harrys story, their divinations really are too vague. I mean, they didnt actually explain anything, did they? They just charged at Harry and tried to scare him. Oh, Neville, you have to understandbefore Harry came along, wizards thought divination was supposed to be like that, Ron said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Well, now I understand why Harry couldnt hold back, Hermione said sharply. Compared to his own divination, the centaurs cryptic nonsense really does seem like a scam. And they charge a ton of Galleons too, dont they? A lot. Harry shrugged. Anyway, its all in the past now. Are you guys interested in coming with me to visit Hagrid tomorrow? I asked Newt, and he said I could bring my friends along. Of course were going!! The three of them instantly perked up. Hermione, eyes shining with excitement, exclaimed, Newt ScamanderI know that name! The author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them! Harry, according to your story, he released massive magical creatures from his suitcase to fight the centaurs?! Yep. And tomorrow, were going to explore Newts suitcase. What are we waiting for, then?! Ron practically sprang back to life, leaping to his feet. Lets go to bed! I cant wait for tomorrow! Just as Newt had piqued Harrys curiosity, Harry had successfully piqued his friends curiosity too. And that made him feel much betterat least Ron and the others werent sulking anymore, right? Especially when, the next morning, Harry saw both Ron and Neville with deep, dark circles under their eyes. That made him feel even better. After all, what bad intentions could a little bull have? Even Hermione had faint circles under her eyes, and the three of themstill bitter from last nightskipped breakfast entirely, dragging Harry straight to Hagrids hut. The door to Hagrids cabin was left ajar. Ron called out a few times, but there was no response. Only Fang squeezed through the doorway, bouncing excitedly around them and wagging his tail furiously. Oh, oh, Fang, I dont think we have anything to feed youwere starving ourselves, Ron said, holding back the boisterous boarhound before stepping into Hagrids hut. Hagrid wasnt thereor at least, he wasnt visibly there. In front of the fireplace, they spotted an open suitcase. Its interior was hollow, revealing a downward-leading ladder. Ill go down first, Harry said immediately. Wait for my signal. Alright. For once, even the ever-stubborn Hermione had no objections. The suitcases opening looked small, but as Harry climbed down the long ladder, he felt no sense of constraint. He soon arrived in what appeared to be a small study, its shelves lined with all kinds of jars filled with vibrant liquids. After taking in the first glance at his surroundings, Harry pushed open the door And was greeted by golden sunlight. Sunlightinside a suitcase. The kind of golden light that only appeared in the late afternoon, warm and soft rather than harsh or blinding. But Harry knew perfectly well that he was inside a suitcase, and outside, it was still early morning. There was no logical way for this kind of sunlight to exist here. Harry? A familiar voice called from the right. Hagrid waved at him. Is it morning already? I meanthis is morning, right? --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 55: The Secret of Newts Suitcase "Breakfast time is already over," Harry raised an eyebrow and said, "Did you stay up all night?" Hagrid looked utterly disheveled at the moment. He was still wearing the same tattered clothes from yesterday, which had been ripped up by the centaurs, and over them, he had hastily thrown on an apron covered in dirt. Yet, despite his ragged appearance, he seemed full of energy. "Yeah, how could I possibly sleep?" Hagrid said excitedly. "Honestly, you''d never guess what''s inside Newt''s suitcase. Last night, I even helped deliver a baby Invisible Horroryou probably dont even know what that is, do you, Harry?" "Invisible Horror? You mean the ones with fur that can be used to make Invisibility Cloaks?" Harry recalled. "No, no, no, not the Demiguise, the Invisible Horror!" Hagrid launched into an enthusiastic explanation, his passion for magical creatures making him indistinguishable from Newt. "The Invisible Horror is a hybrid between a Demiguise and a Ghoul. It also has the ability to turn invisible, but unlike the Demiguise, which resembles an ape, the Invisible Horror has no fixed form." "It can change its shape at will, Harry!" Hagrid grew more animated as he spoke. "I can''t even describe the feelinguntil I actually caught the newborn in my hands, I couldn''t tell where the mother ended and where the baby began!" "Im guessing its dangerous," Harry sized up Hagrid. "Oh, absolutely, of course its dangerous," Hagrid shrugged. "The Invisible Horror is a carnivore that usually lives deep in the forest and preys on humanoid creatureswait, how did you guess?" "You''ve got a scratch on your face, Hagrid," Harry pointed out kindly. "Id suggest putting some ointment on it to prevent infection. By the way, is it safe down here? Hermione and the others are still waiting above." "I got injured?" Hagrid touched his cheek, only now realizing the wound. "Oh, just a scratch, nothing to worry about. Let them come down, Harry. Newt and I spent all night getting things ready." "Since you were all coming today, we had to make sure some of the big fellas were secured in advance." "That explains it," Harry nodded. He stepped back inside the hut and called up toward the ladder. It didnt take long before Ron and the others carefully climbed down. Just like Harry had been at first, they were utterly stunned by what they saw. Warm sunlight, a gentle breeze brushing against their faces, tiny flying insects zipping through the air, and the sight of magical creatures lazily lounging in their nests. These creatures truly lived here. Neville gasped and nudged Ron, pointing at a spot where a lizard had suddenly flicked out its tongue and snatched a flying insect out of the air. The sight sent a wave of excitement through the group. "This is absolutely incredible!!" Hermione grabbed Harrys shoulders in excitement. "A suitcase with this much space inside! It even has a sky! And a sun! And wind!! Harry! Can you figure out how this was done?!" "With what I know about magic so far, I can tell this relies heavily on the Undetectable Extension Charm," Harry gritted his teeth as he tried to pry his arm free from Hermiones grip. "Easy there, Hermione." "The Undetectable Extension Charm is the main component, but equally important are weather charms and temperature regulation spellsdifferent magical creatures require different climates to thrive, and each species has its own designated habitat," came Newts voice from the side. "Hey, Newt. Hope were not disturbing you," Harry greeted him. "Of course um, I mean, no, not at all," Newt responded a little stiffly. "You all arrived earlier than I expected." "This is simply amazing! Mr. Scamander!" Hermione exclaimed in excitement. "How did you manage all of this? According to Professor Flitwick, spell effects shouldnt last forever, yet you''ve created this vast space inside a suitcase, even replicating sunlight! Merlins beard, this is unbelievable! Is this the true power of magic?!" As she spoke, Hermione eagerly stepped closer, causing Newt to back away little by little until he bumped into a table behind him. He cast a pleading look at Harry, his eyes practically screaming for help. "How do you maintain the oxygen balance in here? Do you need to exchange air between the suitcase and the outside world? And with so many magical creatures, do you take care of them all by yourself? What if the suitcase gets damaged? What happens to everythimmph! Mmmph!!" Hermione had countless questions bubbling out of her, her eyes practically sparkling. But unfortunatelyor perhaps fortunatelyshe was abruptly silenced. Harry had stepped behind her and clamped a hand over her mouth, physically dragging her away from Newt. Finally, the older man let out a relieved sigh. "My goodness" Newt loosened his collar and wiped some sweat off his forehead. He was really not good at dealing with childrenespecially ones as enthusiastic and inquisitive as Hermione. "Hiss!!" Just as Harry moved Hermione away, he suddenly inhaled sharply. Letting go immediately, he looked down to see a row of faint teeth marks on his fingers. The culprit, of course, was the indignant Hermione, her cheeks flushed pink as she glared at him. "You scared him, Hermione," Harry shrugged and explained in a low voice. "Newts a bit shy. Try to take it easy." "Really?" Hermione blinked in surprise. She wasnt an inconsiderate person, so when she turned to look at Newt and saw how visibly uncomfortable he was, she quickly apologized. "Im sorry, sir. I didnt realize" Her words abruptly stopped. Not just hereven Ron and Neville, who had been fooling around in the background, suddenly fell silent. Because, from behind Newt, a completely indescribable magical creature had just leapt into view. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. It had a short, stocky body covered in thick, reddish-brown fur. Five sturdy legs extended from its body, but instead of feet, they had what looked more like handslarge, thick fingers, each limb ending in an oddly malformed shape. Harry recognized it immediately. It was the same magical creature Newt had releasedwell, not entirely. Last time, only two of its legs had emerged before Newt quickly sent it back into the suitcase. Now, they were finally seeing it in its entirety. It was extremely ugly, and equally terrifying. Though its five red-furred feet were already striking enough, what truly captured one''s attention was the enormous, tooth-filled mouth right in the center of its body. A Quintaped. Harry still remembered the name Hagrid had shouted last night. "Stop. Don''t move." Newt''s voice rang out clearly in everyone''s ears. But in truth, even if he hadn''t spoken, the others had already instinctively slowed their movements, doing their best not to attract attention. Harry tensed up slightly because he saw Newt quietly drawing his wandthis meant that even the Magizoologist himself was having trouble controlling this magical beast. "Tsk, tsk tsktsk tsk." Muttering strange sounds, Newt flicked his wand lightly, and a wooden barrel suddenly flew out from beneath a nearby table. The barrel was filled with some kind of meatso much that it formed a small mound. It was obvious that Newt was nervous, too. Though the Quintapeds fleshy, beady eyes darted toward the barrel of meat, its gaze lingered much longer on the group of people behind Newtespecially on the younger ones like Harry and his friends. Its body lowered slightly, its five muscular feet tensing. A clear sign of an imminent attack. "Roar!!" Without hesitation, Harry flung back his robe, unstrapped the shield from his back, and let out a loud, ferocious bellow, hammering the shield with his warhammer. Crack! Boom!! A bolt of lightning, seemingly from nowhere, struck Harrys shield with a deafening clap, making Hermione cry out in alarm. But instead of vanishing upon impact, the lightning clung to the surface like a woven net, branching out in intricate, tree-like patterns. His warhammer crackled with sparks as well. When Harry swung it forward, a long streak of lightning shot forth, striking the ground in front of the Quintaped. The earth blackened instantly, and even the stones split apart from the force. The Quintaped froze, as if hesitating. Three seconds. Five seconds. Then, all of a sudden, it bit down on the barrel of meat and leaped away in an instant. A collective sigh of relief echoed from the doorway of the hut. "That was cool, Harry," Neville whispered. "That lightning strike was incredible." "Well done, Harry," Newt said, turning to him. "You made it feel threatenedthat was crucial." "No need to worry, Newt. Im here too," Hagrid said, thumping his chest confidently. "Aint it a beauty, Harry? Thats a Quintaped for ya." "Thats a Quintaped??" Hermiones face turned pale. She stammered, "II read about it in your book, Mr. Scamander. Its classified as a XXXXX-level magical creature." "What does that mean, Hermione?" Ron asked from behind her. "Every XXXXX-level creature is a wizard-killer," Hermione explained, swallowing hard. "And according to legend, Quintapeds were once wizards themselves." "Absolutely correct, Miss Hermione, was it?" Newt said with a smile. "There is indeed such a legend. Its said that long ago, two wizarding families lived on the Isle of Drearthe MacBoon family and the McClivert family. One night, after drinking too much, the two patriarchs engaged in a wizard''s duel, and Dugald McClivert was killed." "Seeking revenge, the McCliverts attacked the MacBoons, transforming every last one of them into Quintapeds," Newt recounted leisurely. "But no one expected what happened nextthe MacBoons, in their monstrous forms, became even more dangerous. Despite the McCliverts desperate attempts to reverse the transformation, they failed. In the end, the Quintapeds wiped out every last member of the McClivert family." "Ugh, this sounds like something out of Professor McGonagalls Transfiguration class," Ron muttered under his breath, loud enough for everyone to hear. Newt chuckled. "If the legend is true, then yes, it would certainly be a cautionary tale of transfiguration gone wrong." "So is it true?" Hermione asked eagerly, eyes wide. "No one knows for sure," Newt shrugged. "There were no survivors to confirm the story. And Quintapeds certainly cant talk. The only thing we do know is that they fiercely resist every attempt by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to return them to their original forms." "So that means they really could be transformed wizards? Thats why the department keeps trying?" Hermione cast a wary glance in the direction the Quintaped had fled. "Perhaps," Newt joked, "but if the MacBoons really did turn into Quintapeds, they must be quite content as they are. They certainly show no desire to turn back." "Thats not funny at all Magic is far too dangerous. I need to be more careful," Hermione muttered, before suddenly raising her head. "But in your book, you said Quintapeds couldnt be trained or domesticated. So why did that one seem" She hesitated. "Seem like it had been tamed?" Newt smiled. "You''re very observant, Miss Granger but in truth, I havent tamed it." "You havent?! Then how did you" "Patience, child," Newt said gently. "Quintapeds are extremely dangerous carnivores, and they have an unusual preference for human flesh. As a result, their relationship with wizards has always been purely hostile." "So, to be precise, I didnt tame it. I simply fed it. Few creatures hunt when theyre already full. That would be a waste of energy. And, well, Quintapeds are incredibly ticklishat least, this one is." "I dont know how it escaped from Drear Island. That island is unplottable for a reasonto keep the Quintaped threat contained." Newt shook his head. "If not for Dumbledores request, I wouldve already sent it back." "I think we might need you to personally escort us during our tour of your case, Newt," Harry mused. He had assumed that after a night of preparation, Hagrid and Newt had secured all the dangerous creatures. But after that close call with the Quintaped perhaps it was best to be cautious. "Oi! Harry! Look at me!!" Ron suddenly shouted excitedly. "Look! Im floating!!" Harry turned to see both Ron and Neville hovering about half a meter off the ground, looking dazed but absolutely delighted. "Ah-ha! Theyve been stung by a Billywig!" Newt exclaimed cheerfully. "I have a Muggle friend who loves being stung by themsays it makes him feel like he can do magic." As he spoke, Harry spotted a small, bright blue insect, no more than half an inch long, emerging from the back of Rons neck. Its iridescent body gleamed like polished jade, and its rapidly spinning wingspositioned on top of its headpropelled it through the air in a corkscrew motion. A long, thin stinger dangled from its underside. That must be the Billywig, Harry thought. "Are you two coming along, or do you plan to just float here?" Harry asked Ron and Neville, dismissing the lightning from his shield and hammer before strapping them back on. "If you want to stay here, Ill have to lock you inside the hut. If that Quintaped returns, youll be in trouble." "Right!" Hermione chimed in. "I dont want to come back to find two piles of bones or worse, two piles of dung." Hagrid roared with laughter. "Ugh! Hermione, shut up!" Ron gagged. "Just get us down from hereHey! Whats that?!" Before he could finish, a small mole-like creature scurried out of nowhere, leaping onto Rons pant leg and scrambling up his robes in an instant. "Merlins pants! Harry! HELP!!" Instinctively, he let out a cry for help. Anyone would panic if a creature the size of a rat suddenly burrowed into their clothes, terrified that it might sink its teeth into something especially with the unsettling sensation of it scurrying around inside. It was like trying to swim midair. Ron flailed his arms wildly, desperately trying to grab hold of the creature wriggling inside his robes, but the dizziness from the Billywig sting made him perpetually a step too slow. This wasnt just a case of scalp-tingling fearRons entire body broke out in goosebumps. Ah, thats a Niffler! Hermione exclaimed, delighted to recognize yet another magical creature. They love anything that glitters. Ron, do you have anything shiny on you? Something shiny Do horns count? Ron asked blankly, still floating in midair. Hm? Harrys gaze sharpened. No, no, I meantah! Feeling the sudden shift in atmosphere, Ron instinctively shrank his neck, then let out a wail. Hey, dont touch my Knut, you little thief! Thats my last bit of money! The Niffler suddenly scurried up from Rons collar to his shoulder, clutching a well-worn, polished bronze Knut that gleamed brilliantly in the sunlightbefore promptly stuffing it into the pouch on its belly. Rons screams intensified. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 56: Harry’s Trunk Its hard to imagine just how fast these deceptively adorable little devils can move until youve been ransacked by a Nifflerand even harder to grasp how uncannily sharp their senses are when it comes to anything that glitters. A trunk encountering a Niffler is like a battlefield meeting a marauding demonutter chaos, complete havoc, and a desperate struggle doomed to fail. "Oh! No!!" Finally, as he hovered midair, Ron ceased his frantic struggle and let out a wail of despairhe could feel it. The next moment, the Niffler leaped out from his robes, its little paw clutching a strapspecifically, the belt around Rons waist, its buckle a gleaming, circular piece of metal. Behind it, Rons expression was one of pure horror as his trousers, now liberated from their restraint, surrendered to gravity and tumbled downward. Beside him, Neville barely dared to breathe, petrified that any movement might draw the creatures attention. He stood still as a statue, hoping to remain invisible. As the undisputed expert in handling Nifflers, it was Newt who finally subdued the mischievous creature and returned Rons meager possessionsbelt included. Newt might be hopeless when it came to interacting with children or people in general, but when it came to magical creatures, he was in his element. Facing the Niffler, he even took on a parental air, crouching down and giving it a thorough scolding, sternly instructing it not to steal from others. Honestly, Ron wished the ground would swallow him wholeeven though Hermione had turned away the moment the incident began, sparing him from her gaze. Even so, he remained red-faced and silent for a long time after, completely mortified. There was no denying Newts expertise in magical creatures. He led the group on a tour of his enchanted trunk, introducing them to a variety of creatures they had never seen beforelike the chameleon-like Displacer Lizard, the fuzzy Hairy Crab, and the agile Tree Monkey Frog Even Harry encountered a familiar facethe very same feline beast that had been so helpful the night before: the Zouwu. According to Newt, this magical creature hailed from China and had the ability to travel vast distances in the blink of an eye. Despite its imposing size, the Zouwu was surprisingly playful. With nothing more than a simple cat toy, even Hermione was able to get it to chase and pounce. For Ron and the others, this was undoubtedly a day worth rememberingan adventure to boast about for years to come. Newt, however, was more than happy to avoid any further encounters with the other Hogwarts students. Ron swore that once Newt left in a few days, he would make absolutely certain his brothers turned green with envy. Pure joy, no thoughts of Hogwarts. Not even a meal made by Hagrid at noon could dampen their excitement and curiosity. A steak stew. Harry struggled to pinpoint the exact origins of its ingredientshe found a few bones and claws of questionable provenancebut in terms of taste, well it wasnt bad. Even Harry was captivated by the sheer variety and uniqueness of the magical creatures. They possessed an otherworldly wonder, distinct from the beasts of Azeroth. This was the thrill of adventurediscovering the unimaginable, relishing the joy of the unknown. By the time they were all worn out and lounging on the grass, sipping lemonade in the warm afternoon sun, Harry noticed Newt beckoning him over with a secretive expression. "Is there something you need help with, Newt? Dont hesitate to ask," Harry offered sincerely. "Id be happy to help." "Help?" Newt blinked in surprise, then quickly shook his head. "Oh, no, no. Actually, I just wanted to sayI found your descriptions of those magical creatures fascinating. They gave me a lot of inspiration. Especially the idea of Spirit BeastsId love to see one in person." Newt sighed wistfully. During their conversation, Harry had recounted many of the unique creatures of Azeroth, purely as tales. He had, of course, reminded Newt that these were merely stories. He had mentioned the legendary Spirit Beasts that hunters tirelessly sought, the Celestial Serpents of Pandaria, the jade panthers sculpted from living stone, the ethereal Starry Dragons of Mogushan Vaults, the fire-hued Dragonhawks, the mysterious Void Rays, and even creatures born of molten lava "For you, theyre just stories, Newt," Harry teased. "If those creatures really appeared in this world, it would probably be a disaster." "Thats not necessarily true." Turning back, Newt gave him a playful wink. It wasnt until Newt had walked several steps ahead that Harry finally processed the implication of his words. Newt was a renowned expert in magical creatures. Years ago, he had successfully pushed for the establishment of a law within the Ministry of Magic: the Ban on Experimental Breeding. It was one of his proudest achievementsmore so than the creation of the Werewolf Registry, a fact he had casually mentioned in their conversations. Before the law was enacted, wizards could freely create and experiment with new magical creaturesmany of which were highly dangerous or suffered immensely due to their unnatural origins, causing endless trouble for both the Ministry and the wizarding world. But with the ban in place, only a handful of people in all of Britain still had the legal right to breed or create new magical creatures. The Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts was one; Newt himself, as the man who spearheaded the ban, was another. So was Newt implying that he wanted to breed these creatures himself? Harry thought about it and honestly, there didnt seem to be any downside. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. "If you do manage to breed them, could you give me a few?" Harry asked as he followed Newt back into the cottage. "Of course," Newt replied cheerfully, rummaging through a pile of crates. "I had a feeling youd be interested Now, where did I put it?" "Ah, here it is." Dragging a trunk out from beneath a stack of boxes, Newt checked it over before pushing it toward Harry. It looked exactly like the one Harry had seen in his Divination visiondown to the last detail. His heartbeat quickened. "Whats this?" he asked. "Its yours," Newt said matter-of-factly. "I can guarantee that when it comes to crafting magically expanded trunks, no one is better than me. Want to take a look inside?" "Absolutely!" Harry didnt hesitate. After witnessing the vast world inside Newts own trunk, no one could possibly refuse an opportunity to own something similarnot even Harry. Wasting no time, he clambered down the ladder. The experience was surreallike stepping into a box within a box, akin to a Russian nesting doll. As he descended, he felt the warmth of sunlight on his skin. Looking around, there were no buildings insidejust a single wooden signpost nearby. From a distance, it looked as if a hole had been torn in midair, with a ladder extending into a pristine grassland. A winding river meandered in the distance. "I regret to inform you, Harry, that this trunk isnt quite as large as mine," Newt admitted as he climbed down behind him. "After all, mine has been expanded and modified over many years. But I think this should be enough for your needs." "More than enough." Harry stamped his foot on the grass, then turned to Newt. "But I dont understandwhy?" "You mean why Im giving you this trunk?" Newt smiled. "Actually, it was Dumbledores request. He wrote to me recently, asking me to prepare a trunk for a child who would need its help." "That would be me," Harry mused. "But I dont understandDumbledore and I agreed that Id only receive it once everything was settled. Why now?" Was this an early reward? Quirrell was still alive, after all. "Oh, thats because I decided to give it to you directly, instead of handing it over to Dumbledore," Newt joked. "Besides, he had another requestthat I come to Hogwarts and take a good look at youthe Boy Who Lived." "To be honest, no one has been able to understand what Dumbledore is thinking for decades," Newt sighed. "But Ive learned that listening to him is rarely a mistake." "So, you think I deserve this trunk?" Harry asked. "Why not?" Newt shrugged. "A bit of an odd obsession, sure, but he''s a good kid at heart. Don''t dwell on it, Harry. Want to give this a try?" Newt was undeniably an old man, his hair and beard streaked with white, yet something about the way he carried himself always made people forget his age. Like nowone hand pressed against the wooden panel, his other gesturing enthusiastically toward Harry, an almost childlike grin of excitement on his face, as if he were showing off a new toy. "What is it?" Harry leaned in curiously. "You''ll see once you try it," Newt stepped aside, making room. "Since I wasnt sure what kind of setting youd prefer, I only built the most basic environment. Here, turn this dial." The wooden panel had three dials. One of them, drawn in a hasty hand, bore symbols of a lightning bolt, a sun, wavy lines of unknown meaning, and swirling patterns. A single pointer rested on the sun. "Go on, give it a try," Newt urged. Harry twisted the dial. As the pointer moved from the sun to the swirling lines, he instantly felt a gust of wind rising from within the suitcase. The farther he turned it to the right, the stronger the wind became. "This controls the weather inside the case?" Harry asked. "Exactly! Now, try the next oneoh, wait! Not that hard!" Newts warning came too late. Harry had already cranked the dial forcefully onto the wavy lines, pressing it deep. In the very next second, a torrential downpour, warm to the touch, came crashing down on them from above. Before Harry could react, he and Newt were both drenched from head to toe, standing in the middle of an empty field with rain lashing against them in sheets. It was a true downpourthe kind that reduced visibility to mere meters ahead, as if the entire space within the suitcase was on the verge of flooding. "...Thats rain, Harry!" Newt shouted, wiping water from his face. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the deafening roar of rainfall. "I shouldve warned you!" Harry, utterly speechless, glanced upand was met with the sight of a scorching midday sun still shining fiercely above them, its bright rays illuminating the cascading rain. Pouring rain. A blazing sun overhead. The absurdity of it all made Harry reach for another dial and give it a spin. In an instant, the entire sky shiftedwhat had been high noon transitioned smoothly into afternoon, dusk, then nightfall. And just like that, the torrential rain became a starry downpour beneath the darkened sky. Newt seemed to be enjoying the spectacle as well. He quickly flicked the third dial, and at once, the sky clouded over, thick storm clouds rolling in overhead. Now, at least, the rain seemed to belong in a natural storm. Like a pair of children with a new toy, Harry and Newt stood by the wooden panel, turning the dials with reckless abandon, watching as the weather inside the suitcase shifted in an instant. Lightning storms that crackled across the sky like tangled threads, blinding rain under golden sunlight, fog pierced by rays of dawn, swirling tornadoes, blizzards that blanketed everything in white By the time they had thoroughly tested the cases weather controls, the space within had settled into a warm, pleasant afternoon glowno blizzards, no torrential rains, just the perfect weather for tea. As for Harry and Newt? Their clothes were soaked through, their hair and bodies covered in frost and snowflakes. They locked eyes. Then, all at once, both burst into laughter. "Looks like we got a little carried away," Newt chuckled, pulling out his wand. "Lets hope you dont catch a cold, or Madam Pomfrey will be furious." With a flick of his wand, a warm rush of magic enveloped them. In seconds, both Harry and his clothes were completely dry, even his hair free of moisture. No matter how many times he experienced it, Harry had to admitmagic made life so much easier. "Thank you, Newt." He met Newts eyes, his expression sincere. "Can I really keep this suitcase? I meansomething this incredible?" If hed had a case like this back in Azeroth, Harry couldnt even begin to imagine how much hardship it would have saved him, how much easier certain battles would have been. The military applications alone were unprecedented. Forget everything elsejust the fact that it could silently transport an entire force behind enemy lines, or carry troops without burdening the caster, elevated this beyond legendary equipment. This was an artifact. Nothis was a divine artifact among divine artifacts! "Er, its not quite that grand," Newt muttered, suddenly uncomfortable with the gratitude. He averted his gaze. "Actually, I originally made this for my grandson, Rolf, but he ended up choosing a different one. I hope you dont mind." "Of course not." Harry stepped forward and pulled Newt into a firm hug. "If you ever need anything from me, just say the word. I know Dumbledore asked you to do this, but he is him, and I am meI owe you for this." "What? No, thats not necessaryalright, alright," Newt sighed as Harry tightened his embrace. He patted Harrys back awkwardly. "Thank you, Harry. Anyway, when you decide where to build your home, just take this wooden panel with you." "That easy?" Harrys excitement grew. "Anything I should know about maintenance?" "Just make sure the suitcase remains intact from the outside. Damaging it could break the Extension Charm, and that would be extremely dangerous." Newt thought for a moment before adding, "Other than that, not much. If you ever want to expand the space or alter the sky and weather, youll have to handle it yourself." "Youll need to master Extension Charms, Weather Modification Spells, Temperature Charms, and have a solid grasp of Alchemy and Ancient Runes. If you need help, ask Dumbledorehe helped me a lot back in the day." Newt smiled warmly. "The more magic you master, the more realistic the environment inside will become. Keep at it." "I will," Harry promised. "And thank you again." "No need to thank meuh, I mean, lets head up. The others are probably waiting," Newt said hastily, clearly uncomfortable with the sentimentality. As they climbed the ladder out of the suitcase, Newt showed Harry one more featureone that proved just how advanced this particular model was. On the side of the suitcases handle was a small circular ring. By rotating it, the exterior of the suitcase could change at willfrom its current brown leather to black velvet, or even an animal-hide finish. A simple twist, and it transformed in an instantquick, seamless, and highly discreet. The only downside? It couldnt shrink the suitcases actual size. But as Newt put it, "When you need to escape or pass through security checks, its a lifesaver." Which, of course, made Harry seriously wonder just what kind of activities Newt had been involved in with this suitcase. Smuggling, perhaps? Hed have to look into it later. Something told him there was an incredible adventure behind this story. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 57: A Building Frenzy and an Unexpected Halloween When Harry stepped back outside carrying a brown leather suitcase, Ron and the others stared at him wide-eyedbecause they distinctly remembered what the suitcase sitting in Hagrids hut looked like. The two were almost identical, the only difference being that one was old and worn while the other was brand new. WaitHarry! Your divination!! Ron suddenly exclaimed. This suitcaseits exactly like the one you saw in your divination!! Yes, youre right, Ron. Harry turned to Newt and explained, I once performed a divination for myself, and this suitcase appeared in it. Now, I finally understand its purpose. Your divination? Newt asked with great interest. You managed to predict something this specific? Well, I wouldnt call it precise, Harry sighed. At the time, I was trying to see how Professor Dumbledore would help me resolve my dilemma. And in the vision, all I saw was a suitcasecompletely out of context. It puzzled me for a long time. Ahahahahaha! Hagrid burst into hearty laughter. Still, Harry, thats way clearer than all that Mars and Saturn nonsense. Yes, at least now you know exactly how it solves your dilemma, Newt said, patting Harry on the shoulder. Make good use of it. I will. So, Mr. Scamander gave you a suitcase too? Hermiones eyes sparkled as she gazed at the leather case in Harrys hand. Does it also have? She gestured at their surroundings. Exactly. Though, the scenery inside mine isnt as developed as Newts, Harry joked. And I have to thank Professor Dumbledore for thisif not for him, I probably wouldnt have had the chance to get it. Thats amazing!! Ron and Neville suddenly high-fived and hugged each other in excitement. We have a secret base now, Harry!! A secret base!! No boy could resist the allure of a secret hideout. It could be a treehouse or an underground bunkerthe appeal was endless. Newt, meanwhile, simply smiled as he watched the lively scene. The four of them spent the entire day inside Newts suitcase, reluctant to leave even as the castles curfew approached. Newt had already bid them farewellhis departure was somewhat abrupt, as he refused to stay in Hogwarts even for a single night. He insisted on leaving immediately for Drear Islandhe was in a hurry to return the Quintaped. For Ron, Neville, and Hermione, this was terrible news. They hadnt had nearly enough time to explore Newts suitcase, which, to them, was an endless treasure trove of mysteries. Half a day wasnt even enough to scratch the surface. But no matter how much they didnt want him to leave, all they could do was watch him go. Ironically, the one most reluctant to see Newt off wasnt the childrenit was Hagrid. The next day, when Ron and the others visited Hagrids hut, he sighed dramatically as he talked about Newts departure, as if it had drained the very life out of him. Well, forcibly separating Hagrid from large, ferocious magical creatures probably did feel like a life-or-death matter for him. As for Harry well, Harry was busy. So busy, in fact, that he had even taken time off from schooltwo whole days of absence. If he werent such a diligent student with a learning pace far beyond his peers, the professors would never have approved it. And what had kept Harry so preoccupied? Naturally, his new suitcase. When it came to construction, wizarding magic was truly remarkable, greatly reducing labor and time. But what if the project involved reshaping an entire landscape? Anyone venturing deep into the Forbidden Forest would notice that a small riverside hill had completely vanishedbecause Harry had moved it all into his suitcase. At this moment, even if Newt returned and stepped inside, he wouldnt recognize the place anymore. A complete transformation. Over the past two days, Harry had mastered an array of spells: the Gouging Spell (to dig three feet deep), the Blasting Curse, the Softening Charm, the Hardening Charm, the Shaping Spell, the Mending Charm He was practically as skilled as a Ministry wizard responsible for magical accident cleanup. The once-grassy land had turned into a marsh. Harry had redirected a river into his suitcasethough he was quite curious about where it originated. Following its course, he had walked straight into the suitcases boundary and nearly gave himself a concussion. The outer edges of the suitcase appeared to stretch infinitely, but touching them revealed a solid wall. An illusion. The river, it seemed, flowed from a painting, appearing out of nowhere and disappearing at the far end of the suitcase. Though Harry couldnt yet decipher the magic behind it, he had a strong suspicion that the river simply looped within the space. Now, a section of this river had become a waterfall. Harry had elevated the terrain using the soil he transported, turning a corner of the suitcase into a cliff where the river cascaded down. It was precisely at this cliffside that Harry planned to build his homethough many details differed from the vision in his divination, the overall layout was nearly identical. This was a grueling project. Harry had been working nonstop for two days, barely sleeping two to three hours each night, yet he had only made minimal progress. And that was after he had asked Dumbledore for help. But Dumbledore, the worlds most powerful wizard, only helped for half a day before escaping. When Harry returned to the Headmasters office on the eighth floor to ask for more assistance, he wasnt even allowed inside. The stone gargoyle at the entrance bluntly stated that Dumbledore was not in the school. Well Harry had no choice but to take that at face value. Old age wasnt suited for intensive laborno surprise Dumbledore had bailed. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Still, in that short half-day, Dumbledore had shaped most of the suitcases terrain, leaving Harry with only the task of refining and filling in the details. Dumbledore was, indeed, formidable. Harry had even sought out Professor Snapeer, that is, he had politely requested Professor Snapes assistance. Snape had brewed several massive cauldrons of plant growth and nutrient potions, which Harry planned to mix into the rain and spread throughout the suitcases ecosystem. For now, the land was barren, freshly turned black soil without a single blade of grass. It looked desolate, lifeless. But Harry was confident it would soon flourish. Creating this personal world filled Harry with boundless energy. It was far better than building a garrison in Draenorafter all, a garrison couldnt be carried around. This experience was so unique that even Dalarans archmages would struggle to imagine it. Harry was so engrossed in his work that he didnt even realize what day it was until Hagrid came to wake him up. Halloween! Hagrid bellowed. Merlins beard, Harry, you nearly missed my giant pumpkins! Huh? Harry, exhausted, turned around groggily. Halloweenits already Halloween? Azeroth had its own version of Halloween, though unlike Earths, it was a celebration of the Forsaken breaking free from the Scourgesymbolizing freedom and rebirth. Of course, Harry, Hagrid chuckled. I know youre excited about building your new home, but you cant forget your friendscome on, Ron and the others have been waiting for you. Unlike Harry, Ron and the others couldnt skip class for days. They could only envy him while stuck in lessons. By the time Harry and Hagrid arrived at the Great Hall, the Halloween feast had already begun. The professors had decorated the entire Great Hall in a dazzling displaycandles that emitted a green glow floated in midair, jack-o-lanterns and translucent ghosts were scattered everywhere, and bats flitted across the walls and ceiling. At least a thousand of them swarmed above the dining tables like clusters of low-hanging storm clouds, creating an eerie and immersive atmosphere. Keeping his head low, Harry quietly slipped over to the Gryffindor table. The moment he sat down, Ron threw an arm around his shoulder. "Ha! Look who finally decided to show up! Harry, we were starting to think you''d forgotten all about us," Ron said, his tone dripping with mock resentment. "You don''t even come to class anymorejust hiding away in that secret base of yours all day." "Shh, Ron!" Neville hushed him in a whisper. "Not so loud! Someone might overhear!" "Alright, alright," Ron sighed dramatically. "I just wish I could help you out, you know? Honestly, I''m getting sick of all these classes." "But you only managed to get the Levitation Charm right just before class ended," Neville pointed out bluntly. "And that was with Hermione coaching you. Without her, it wouldve been even harder." "Doesn''t matter, Neville. The point is, I got it in the end, and Professor Flitwick even gave Gryffindor a point for it," Ron said smugly, raising his eyebrows. "Professor Flitwick just got to Levitation Charms?" Harry asked, sounding disappointed. "That''s way too slow." "Hey, Harry, not everyone is a genius like you," Ron protested. "The class is already moving pretty fast! Honestly, why dont you ask Flitwick to let you join the Charms Club? You know, like how McGonagall brought you into hers?" "I did ask. He turned me down," Harry shrugged. "According to him, the earliest he''d let me in is next year. Said I should focus on just enjoying my first year at Hogwarts for now." "Well, that doesnt sound so bad, does it?" Ron said casually. "You cant push yourself too hard, Harry." "I''m not really pushing myself wait, speaking of which, wheres Hermione?" Harry glanced around. "I haven''t seen her. Is she feeling unwell?" "Not exactlywell, kind of," Ron said, shifting awkwardly. "She got into another fight with that Slytherin girl, Pansy. And it was because of you." "Cough, cough!" Leave it to Ronone sentence nearly made Harry choke on his pumpkin juice. "What?!" Harry stared at Ron, eyes wide. "What do you mean, because of me?" The way Ron said it made it sound like something major had happened. "Don''t listen to Ron exaggerating," Neville said, biting into a roll. "Youve been missing class the past few days, right? Well, after Charms today, Pansy started mouthing off, saying that without you around, Gryffindor wouldnt be getting all those extra points from the professors. That were basically riding on your coattails." "Harry, you know how Hermione isthere''s no way she''d take that lying down," Ron added with a shrug. "Especially since she was the first one to get the Levitation Charm right in class today. Flitwick even gave her five points. So she snapped back at Pansy, of course." "And then?" Harry asked, biting into a pasty with a blank expression. "And then that damn harpy lost it," Ron said with disgust. "First, she started saying that no matter how hard Hermione tried, shed never catch up to you. Then she insulted her teeth, called her ugly, said she was an annoying know-it-all who never shut up. Oh, and she even claimed that, deep down, you must hate her too, even if you never say it out loud." "...You two didnt just stand there and let that happen, did you?" Harry asked, pausing with his goblet halfway to his lips. He had thought that his punishment for Malfoy would have been enough to put the Slytherins on edge. Clearly, he was wrong. "Of course not!" Ron said instantly. "From the moment we fought side by side on the train, I knew Hermione was our friend." "Yeah, she might have a few annoying habits," Ron added, puffing out his chest proudly. "But there''s no way Neville and I would just stand there and let Pansy the lapdog bully our friend!" "To be honest, Harry, Hermione didnt really need our help," Neville suddenly chuckled. "Before we could even step in, she had already pulled out her wand and hexed Pansy. Ron and I just joined in for the follow-up." "Oh yeah, that was a good one," Ron said, impressed. "I only found out afterward that it was the Knockback Jinx. Pansy got blasted clean off her feet! Brilliant!" "That does sound brilliant," Harry nodded in approval. "So, you guys won the fight but wheres Hermione now? Shouldnt she be celebrating?" "Who knows?" Ron sighed. "Anyway, it turned into another full-on Gryffindor-Slytherin brawl. You know how it isfirst-years dont really have that many proper spells yet. You and Hermione are exceptions. For everyone else, if their wands even manage to shoot out sparks, thats already an achievement. So it ended up being fists in the end." "McGonagall was the one who broke it up. She took twenty points from both Hermione and Pansy, and then gave detention to everyone who joined the fight," Neville recalled. "After that, no ones seen Hermione. She even skipped the rest of her classes." "...Thats not good," Harry sighed. At their age, kids were sensitive. Pansy might have hit a nerve, and Hermione could be taking it harder than she let on. BANG! Just as they were speaking, a loud crash echoed through the Great Hall, abruptly cutting through the cheerful atmosphere. Harry turned his head just in time to see Professor Quirrell stumble inside, looking absolutely terrified. His ever-present turban was askew. "Trollin the dungeonsthought you ought to know!" Quirrell staggered to Dumbledores chair, gasping for breath, then collapsed in a heap on the floor, apparently unconscious. It was strange. Harry had already activated his Astral Sight the moment Quirrell burst in. He could see that Quirrells spirit had suddenly dimmedsuggesting the unconsciousness was realbut the energy radiating from his body hadnt changed in the slightest. What was he up to? A diversion? So Voldemort was finally making a move on the thing hidden on the fourth floor? And the troll was just a distraction to keep the professors occupied? Meanwhile, Dumbledore had already fired off several sharp, crackling spells into the air, sending out bursts of magical fireworks as signals. Then he ordered the prefects to lead their houses back to their dormitories. "Percys over therelets stick with him. Bloody hell, why is there a troll in the castle?" Ron said nervously. "I hope no one gets hurt." "Wait," Harry suddenly stopped. "Does Hermione even know about this? Are you sure she never went back to the dorm?" Ron and Neville both froze, then slowly shook their heads. They looked completely dumbfounded. "Shes not in the dorm. We asked her roommatesthey have no idea where she went either," Neville mumbled. "We just assumed shed turn up eventually" "Its not your fault," Harry reassured them. "You guys go with Percy." "And you?" Ron asked, frowning. "Im going to find Hermione firsttrust me, I have a feeling about this." Without waiting for a response, Harry ducked through the crowd. But he hadnt gone far when he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Glancing back, he saw Ron and Neville rushing after him. "Were not leaving you behind, Harry!" Ron called out. "If my mum ever found out I ran away while my friend was in danger, shed tan my hide!" "Same here!" Neville added, his voice a little shaky. "My gran would do the same!" --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 58: Voldemorts Trap and Peeves Battlefield Entrance "...Alright, then follow behind me. If you encounter a troll, remember to hide first," Harry said after a moment of quick thinking. He wasnt particularly worried about Quirrell getting his hands on what was inside the fourth-floor roomafter all, that was just a trap. Dumbledore would never allow Voldemort to succeed. Right now, finding Hermione was the bigger priority. This wasnt the time for idle chatter. With limited resources, Harry swiftly completed the divination ritual. He was eager to determine Hermiones current location, and since he wasnt attempting to predict a far-off future, the vision should be relatively clear. Indeed, the water screen formed almost instantly, showing a sharp and unobstructed image of Hermione. "Aha! I knew itshes in the girls bathroom," Ron blurted out the moment he saw the scene. Even though he knew this wasnt the time for laughter, he just couldnt help himself. It wasnt his faultthe vision clearly showed Hermione sitting on the toilet, covering her face, crying. There was no doubt about itHarrys earlier prophecy on the train had come true. What Ron found so funny was that Hermione had known about that prophecy, yet she still chose to cry in the bathroom. "...Youd better not laugh like that in front of her," Harry shot Ron a helpless look. "Otherwise, you can forget about copying her homework from now on." "No worries, Harry," Ron grinned so wide his molars were practically showing. "Ive still got your homework, havent I?" His declaration essentially meant he was going to laugh in front of Hermioneloudly. That was basically a death sentence. Harry pressed his hand against the stone basin, and the scene on the waters surface rippled violentlythe vision rapidly pulled away from Hermione, blurring and distorting as if it might shatter at any moment. Fortunately, he could still make out the surrounding areathe bathroom sink outside the stalls, the corridor beyond, and then the courtyard Crack! The water screen exploded, sending droplets splashing onto the three of them. "Where was that?" Neville asked blankly, staring at Harry. "The dungeons," Harry said with a complicated expression. "The vision only showed the courtyard after it moved upwards, which means Hermione is in the dungeons right now." "Then what are we waiting for?!" Ron exclaimed in alarm. "Dont forget what Professor Quirrell saidthere are trolls in the dungeon classrooms! We have to get there fast!" Ron was right, but not entirely. "Dont rush," Harry said seriously, pulling out more herbs and lighting them to produce green smoke. He began chanting another spell. "What are you divining now?" Ron asked, puzzled. "We already know where Hermione is, dont we?" "Hermione isnt the only one in the dungeons, Ron." Harry shook his head slightlythere were things he couldnt explain to Ron and Neville. What concerned him was Quirrell and Voldemort. If Quirrells goal was simply to lure the other professors away so he could sneak into the fourth-floor room, then finebut relying on guesswork to predict an enemys moves was foolish. If he could use divination to get more information, why wouldnt he? The green smoke once again condensed into a water screen, and this time, Harrys target was the futurewhat would happen in the dungeons if he did nothing? The answer came quickly: trolls. And not just one, but two. Their vacant expressions made them look as dumb as ever, yet they seemed to be quarreling with each other, swinging their clubs wildly. But that wasnt the real problem. The real problem was that farther away from the trolls, there were several hooded figures, faces obscured by black robes. Quirrell and Voldemort had more people?! But hadnt Dumbledore said Voldemort was in a pitiful state? That he didnt even dare summon his old followers? Then how had he gathered these peopledid Quirrell hire them? What kind of reward could possibly convince dark wizards to attack Hogwarts? Harry couldnt understand. According to Hagrid, the students of Hogwarts were practically untouchable in the British wizarding worldwhoever accepted this job probably wouldnt live long enough to enjoy their payment. Would they flee Britain entirely after this? At that moment, the two trolls seemed to notice somethinga sound from nearby. They turned their heads simultaneously, locking onto a small figure who had just emerged from a room. Hermione. One of the trolls scratched its belly and wobbled toward her, raising its massive club And swung it down! The water screen shattered. "Hermione!" Neville cried out in alarm, even though he knew this vision was of the near future. "What do we do, Harry?!" "Dont panic," Harry shook his head. "Ive changed my mind. You two go find Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall immediately and tell them there are intruders in the castleProfessor Quirrell hasnt noticed yet." "What about you, Harry?" Ron asked, already tense. "Im going to save Hermione," Harry said simply. "Trust me." "Alright, Ron and I will deliver the message." Neville, unexpectedly calm in this crucial moment, said seriously, "Go quickly, Harry. Be careful." "You too," Harry nodded. "And once youve told the professors, go straight back to the Gryffindor Tower. No stopping, no detours, no matter what you hear or see. Understood?" "Understood," Ron and Neville answered, their faces tight with tension. The fact that there were intruders in the castle made them realize this was no time for reckless adventures or games. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. As they rushed upstairs, Harry moved toward the dungeons. Hogwarts, being a massive and ancient castle, had an extensive underground networkincluding old dungeon cells. The layout was incredibly complex, with shifting pathways adding to the confusion. Even though Harry knew Hermione was in a girls'' bathroom down here, the dungeons had multiple such bathroomssome even led to secret rooms. Not long after entering the corridors, Harry caught a faint, unpleasant odor. If it smelled this bad from a distance, he could only imagine how awful it would be up closeit reminded him of the stench from the boar-men or ogres of Azeroth. Good thing he had a strong stomach and steady nerves. He wasnt about to charge in recklessly just because he was in a hurry. He had no intention of walking straight into a trap. SoFar Sight. A traditional shaman spell, allowing a shaman to perceive distant locations, including hidden enemies like rogues or druids. It provided true sight. A hazy vision formed in front of Harry, shifting and distorting rapidlylike a deranged voyeur, he scanned the dungeons many bathrooms. It didnt take long. He found Hermione in a west-side girls bathroom. He also found the intruderstwo trolls lumbering toward her. There were four robed figures. Unlike the trolls, who made no effort to hide their presence, these people were moving cautiously, staying out of sight. Was their real target the professors who would come to fight the trolls? Harry considered this and decided to take a different route, circling behind them for a surprise attack. Tauren were peaceful and kind by nature, yes, but they werent saints or naive fools. Unlike orcs, they didnt have an obsessive need for direct combat. Harry moved quickly. Before long, he had positioned himself behind the robed figures, silently drawing his shield and warhammer. Unlike his battles with the centaurs, Harry knew that these creatures were not the centaur marauders of Azeroth. Because of this, he was able to restrain himself, only targeting the centaurs'' more irksome behaviors without dealing lethal blows in combat. But these strangers who had invaded the castle were different. They were unmistakably enemies, and Harry wasnt about to hold back. What followed was a seamless sequence of battle-hardened techniques, refined through decades of warfare. Silently, he enchanted his shield. The enchantment Harry used was called the Thunderstrike Ward, an infusion of lightning elements into the shield. This enchantment allowed him to channel spells like Lightning Bolt and Chain Lightning with greater force, unleashing an even fiercer electrical onslaught on his enemies. However, what he needed most right now was the secondary effect of the enchantmentwhen the shield made contact, it would discharge electrical damage upon impact. For his warhammer, Harry cast a Flametongue Weapon enchantment, ensuring that each strike would scorch his foes with searing flames. Casting shamanic spells in this world had always been a challenge for Harrynot because of a lack of magical prowess, but because this world lacked the Four Elemental Realms. In Azeroth, invoking elemental magic meant drawing power directly from the corresponding elemental planes. Shamans and mages alike tapped into these realms to fuel their spells. But in the world where Harry was born, such a method simply didnt work. Fortunately, spells tied to storm elements were easier to cast, as air was omnipresent. Fire and water were manageable as well, so long as he avoided spells that involved magma, which required the fusion of fire and earth elements. Earth-based spells were the most problematic. Even summoning a simple earth elemental meant pulling from the surrounding environment, sometimes with unintended consequences. Harry still vividly remembered the time he had tried summoning one near his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernons houseonly for a large chunk of their home to be torn away and transformed into an earth elemental, causing the entire structure to collapse. That experience had taught him a valuable lesson. Now, standing inside the enchanted halls of Hogwarts, he knew better. The castles walls and decorations were all reinforced with protective magicotherwise, the mischief of students over the centuries would have reduced the place to rubble many times over. Given these constraints, Harry could only wield the elements of air, water, and fire. That alone was difficult enough, as the elemental energy in any given area was finite. Unlike in Azeroth, where one could endlessly draw power from the elemental planes, here, his spellcasting was inherently limited. That meant fewer spells. Weaker spells. But fortunately, Harry was more than just a shaman. He was also a wizard. The stillness of the dungeon seemed to lull the four intruders into a false sense of security. Harry seized the opportunity, holding his breath, focusing his energy Lightning Bolt! A crackling blue bolt of electricity tore through the air, its sharp hiss splitting the silence. The robed figure sensed something behind him, but by the time he whirled around to see Harry, it was already too late. Lightning traveled at 300,000 kilometers per second. Without prior warning, no human reflexes could ever hope to keep up. The black-robed wizard collapsed instantly, convulsing on the ground as charred smoke curled from his body. Kill him! Hes just a child!! Their fallen comrade elicited no hesitation from the remaining invaders. One, who seemed to be the leader, roared out the command, raising his wand and sending a flurry of spells Harrys way. In an instant, the corridor lit up like a fireworks display. Streaks of red light shot toward where Harry had been standingbut none found their mark. As soon as his Lightning Bolt struck its target, Harry had abandoned offense, casting a defensive spell instead. Lightning Shield. In a place like Hogwarts, Earth Shield was too destructive to use, so Lightning Shield was his best optionabsorbing blows while retaliating against attackers. Unlike his shields enchantment, this spell made its presence unmistakable: three orbs of crackling electricity materialized around Harry, crackling with an audible hum. For as long as the shield lasted, any enemy who struck him would suffer an immediate counterattack. Wizard spells were undeniably powerful, but they all shared one fatal flaw: they had to hit their target to take effect. Every curse, every hex, every bolt of magic launched from a wand had to connect. Harry suspected that if a rogue or a monka class reliant on agilitywere here instead, they could probably dance through a storm of spells without getting hit once. Harry, however, was not that nimble. But he had a shield. Under its cover, he advanced toward the group of wizardsonly to realize, to his surprise, that they were doing the same. They werent retreating to maintain distance like typical spellcasters; they were closing in. It defied every instinct of a magic-wielding class. It was as if they werent wizards at all. Avada Kedavra!! A blinding green light streaked through the air, slamming against Harrys shield with a loud clang. The Killing Curse was designed to rip the soul from a living bodydeadly to anything alive. But against inanimate objects? It did nothing. Well, not nothing. It could shatter an object, sure. But a shield had no soul to take. How hard would the curse have to try to kill a shield, anyway? If it did, so what? It was just a shield. Nothing more. The impact made his shield tilt slightly, its edge chipping away. One of the lightning orbs orbiting Harry surged outward in retaliation, streaking toward the casterbut it fizzled out harmlessly against a translucent magical barrier surrounding the wizard. There was no time to counterattack. Another dark wizard had already lunged at Harry from up close! Unfazed, Harry braced himself, knees bending slightly as he raised his shield, absorbing the blow. Oddly enough, it didnt feel like he was being struck by a personit felt more like an animal had pounced on him. The Thunderstrike Ward on his shield had a secondary function. Physical contact with it triggered an electric shock. Sure enough, the dark wizard recoiled with a pained howl, spasming from the shock. Harry didnt leave him the chance to recoverhe shifted his shield aside and brought his warhammer down. A loud crack. Flametongues fiery enchantment scorched through the wizards robes, searing a deep, blackened dent into his chest where his ribs caved inward. WhooshBOOM!! Something massive hurtled through the air, roaring past Harry before crashing violently into the corridors far corner. A suit of armor, now in pieces, scattered across the floor. Harry barely had time to follow up his attack before he had to duck, dodging the flying debris. Looking up, he saw the source of the attacktwo towering trolls at the far end of the hall. They had finally noticed the battle behind them, and one had grabbed a decorative suit of armor, hurling it toward Harrys position. Oh! Merlins beard! I think Im breaking apart! A voice came from the scattered armor. Not breaking apart. Already broken. The once-pristine suit of armor was now a mess of disassembled parts, strewn across the floor. Only its voice remained intactassuming that its opening and closing visor counted as talking. Wait. That wasnt the armor talking. From within the helmet, a head suddenly popped out. Then arms. A torso. Legs. Harry had no idea how something so large had fit inside a space the size of a human head, but there it was. Time for some fun! Peeves is here! The castles under attack! Harry recognized the unexpected arrival immediately, shouting his name. Small, mischievous, with a wide, grinning mouth and bright, beady eyes. Dressed in garishly colorful clothes, a crooked tie, a hat, and shoes split open at the toes It was Peeves, Hogwarts poltergeist. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 59: Harry vs. Voldemort The reason Peeves was classified as a poltergeist rather than a ghost was precisely because, while he could pass through walls like a ghost, he also had a physical form. He could touch objects at will, and his greatest pastime was shrieking through the corridors to attract attention before pulling pranks on anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Ohhh~, you little rascal!" Floating midair, Peeves wagged his finger and clicked his tongue. "I''ve got y" BANG!! Peeves'' words were abruptly cut off as he was struck by a spell, spinning wildly in the air like a kicked ball. His hat nearly flew off his head. "Alright, alright! An intruder? You''ve angered Peeves!!" Looking furious, Peeves pressed his hat firmly back onto his headthen, without another word, shot straight up through the ceiling and disappeared. To be honest, Harry was momentarily dumbfounded watching Peeves flee at full speed. He hadn''t expected Peeves to actually defeat the enemy, but he had hoped the poltergeists unique nature would at least serve as a distraction, giving him a chance to land a decisive blow. After the exchange of multiple spells, the elemental energy in this corridor had already weakened considerably. Even the two standing figures opposite him seemed a little stunned by Peeves retreat. For a brief moment, the only sounds in the corridor were those of the two trolls in the background, who had begun fighting each otherone trying to move forward while the other blocked its way. Then, their battle intensified. "Confringo!" "Confringo! Confringo! Confringo!!" One of the Dark Wizards raised his wand and repeatedly cast the Blasting Curse at Harry. It was as if that was the only spell he knewone fiery-red curse after another streaked down the corridor, blasting holes into the walls. But Harry didnt retreat. He braced his shield in front of him, lowering his stance as much as possible, moving forward like a serpent toward the Dark Wizard. He was a Shaman, but right now, he looked more like a warrior. Not much choiceelements werent cooperating right now! The continuous barrage of Blasting Curses had left his shield pockmarked with craters. To be fair, the goblin-forged shield was of excellent quality; even now, it had yet to be completely pierced, though its inner surface was now riddled with dents. The Dark Wizard was trying to use his advantage as an adult with more abundant magic reserves to overpower Harry, intending to shatter his shield and kill him. But what shocked Harry even more was that, even when he yanked the wounded, writhing wizard he had hammered earlier up as a human shield, the attacking Dark Wizard showed no hesitationhis curses struck the wounded man directly, one after another. Weren''t they comrades? There wasnt even a shred of mercy. Every spell cast was a lethal curse, including some Harry couldnt recognize but knew were incredibly destructive. Within mere seconds, the unfortunate wizard Harry used as a shield was on the brink of deathhis back torn open, flesh mangled, so weak that he couldnt even scream. Lightning Bolt! Calling upon the already weakened elemental forces once more, Harry swung his warhammer, channeling a bolt of lightning forward. As expected, it was blocked by the same semi-transparent shield as before. But Harry had anticipated this. Momentarily setting aside his warhammer, he drew his wand and flicked itimmediately, a piece of armor that had been flung aside earlier by the trolls, now lying in pieces at the Dark Wizards feet, suddenly transformed into a wolf and sank its fangs into his ankle. The wolf followed up with a brutal death shake. "AAAAAHHHHH!!" The wizards screams filled the corridor as the searing pain disrupted his casting rhythm. Charge! No, waitnot a chargeHarry seized the moment and dashed forward, hurling his shield with a powerful spin. The spinning shield slammed into the wizards head, causing him to reel backward. Harry deftly caught the rebounding shield and pressed forward. He had already closed the distance, warhammer in hand, flames flickering along its surface SMASH!! The wizard collapsed instantly. "Morsmordre!" A cold, chilling voice suddenly whispered at Harrys ear. He barely had time to raise his shield before feeling a strange burning sensation spread through it. Without hesitation, he tossed the shield away. Sizzle. Before his eyes, the shield that had accompanied him for just over a month now twisted and blackened, corroded as if it had been drenched in acid, turning into an unrecognizable pile of charred metal. Dark magicthis was definitely some form of Dark magic, something even more insidious than the Blasting Curse. Gripping his warhammer tightly in his right hand and his wand in his left, Harry warily eyed the last remaining Dark Wizard. Unlike the others, this one had only cast three spells so farAvada Kedavra, a shield charm, and just now, that corrosive Dark spell. Though he had used fewer spells, each one was exceptionally lethalanyone hit wouldnt even have to worry about their last words. Yet, aside from those three attacks, this wizard had merely stood there, watching as Harry fought his two comrades, offering them no assistance or support. "Urgh... Ahh..." A groan of pain came from the floor. The first wizard struck by Harrys Lightning Bolt had regained consciousness. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Harry realized these Dark Wizards were far more physically resilient than he had expected. They seemed to have a natural resistance to magical damage, recovering from unconsciousness surprisingly fast. But that was fineHarry would just help him sleep again. Lifting his foot, Harry delivered a swift kick to the wizards head, knocking him out cold. He didnt kill himkeeping a prisoner for interrogation was always useful. Even as Harry remained on high alert, the last wizard made no move to intervene, simply watching as Harry knocked out his supposed comrade. "I thought you were on the same side," Harry remarked. "Or do you have some twisted rule that only the last one standing gets paid?" "Ahaha, brilliant guess!" The wizard suddenly let out a raspy chuckle. "I knew you werent like the others. Those dull fools could never have come up with such an exquisite idea... Just like the ones lying on the floor. For them, dying here is the greatest moment of their pathetic lives." "...You never planned to escape," Harry said grimly. "Who are you? You sound like you know me well." A suspicion had already formed in his heart. No, at this point, it wasnt just a suspicion. Through his Astral Vision, he once again saw the familiar chaotic aura. Voldemort. But why wasnt he in Quirrell? Had Dumbledores intelligence been wrong again? Why did he think "again"? Voldemort had orchestrated everything to lure the professors awaywasn''t it to steal what lay in the trap room on the fourth floor? Why was he herewaiting for him? "Who am I?" Voldemorts voice turned sinister, his grin widening. "I know your kind, Harrythose who wield the power of prophecy. Your paths are always so... clear-cut." As he spoke, Voldemort raised his wand and gave it a wave. From the nearby restroom, a girl slowly walked outit was Hermione. Her eyes were vacant, as if her soul had been drained. She had no focus of her own, stepping forward mechanically until she was out the door, then turned to face Harry. Harry took a deep breath. The fury surging into his mind was forcibly suppressed, replaced by a sharp claritycontrolled, composed, like a true warrior harnessing his rage. "Not even angry?" Voldemort let out a piercing laugh. "Dont worry, I merely guided this Mudbloods memories. As long as she was here, I knew youd rush over without a second thoughtyou people are just like that." "I have so much to say to you, Harry," Voldemort''s voice suddenly softened, almost gentle. "But I fear we dont have the timeCruciatus!!" It was like he had split personalitiesone moment speaking calmly, the next, shouting the incantation with unhinged fury. "Cruciatus! Cruciatus! Cruciatus!" A relentless barragefour Unforgivable Curses in a row. Harry had half a mind to ask if Voldemort even knew any other spells. "Hahahahahaha!!" Voldemort cackled wildly, his eyes locked onto Harrys evasive movements. "Ill admit, your self-created spells have their interesting qualities. But thats all they are, Harryinteresting. Cruciatus!" "Theyre nothing more than variations of elemental curses! Even their range and power dont compare! And look at youyou cant even cast them in quick succession! Too weak, Harry Potter! Cruciatus!" "Wheres your soul magic?! Why arent you using it?! Show me what it can do!!" He was getting more agitated by the second. Harry couldn''t help but think Voldemorts mental state was in shambleshis emotions fluctuating far too wildly. Like right now. "You should abandon those feeble, worthless spells and embrace the boundless mysteries of Dark Magic!!" The spells suddenly changed. Black, red, purplea barrage of curses, none of them looking remotely friendly, howled through the air, slamming into the debris Harry had transfigured for cover. Every spell was different from the last, as if Voldemort were putting on a grand demonstration of Dark Magics upper limits. But judging by the impact, his real target wasnt Harry at allit was the underground halls of Hogwarts itself. Harry could see the far wall, now dripping with some sort of purplish sludge, bubbling ominously with a stench strong enough to make one retch. He wasn''t sure if it was a curse or some corrosive substance, but the wall was not in good shape. Voldemorts spells came faster and faster, but his voice grew weaker and weaker. Through his astral sight, Harry saw it clearlythe soul of the wizard Voldemort was possessing was rapidly deteriorating, teetering on the edge of death. Voldemort was squeezing every last drop of life and magic from his host, burning it all for a fleeting burst of power. "Look! This is true strength! Power you can never defy!!" "Only absolute power matters! Only this kind of power can achieveDAMN IT! PEEVES!!!" Voldemorts triumphant declaration turned into an enraged roar, his curses drowned out by Peeves gleeful laughter. "Come on, then! Keep going! You dare mess with Lord Peeves?! Take this! And this! And thisaha! Whered this spider come from? Doesnt matter! You can have it too!" Harry peeked out and saw Peeves floating overhead, a massive bundle strapped to his back, hurling every random object he could find at Voldemort. It looked like he had emptied out his entire stash of mischief. "ENOUGH!!" Voldemort bellowed in fury, lifting his gaze toward Peevesonly for his vision to be suddenly obscured by a flash of pink. Harry saw it clearly. A pair of pink, lacy womens knickers Peeves had pulled them straight from his bag and tossed them down without a second thought. Who knew where he had even gotten them? "YOURE DEAD!!!" Voldemort tore the offending garment from his face, and the moment he realized what he was holding, he practically ignited with rage. He roared, raising his wand to unleash a killing curse at Peeves. But Peeves had already vanished, his bag and all, leaving only the sound of giggling and the whoosh of air where he had disappeared. That was a poltergeist for youpranks, invisibility, and fleeing the scene, all in one fluid motion. A true legend of Hogwarts. "Nicely done, Peeves," Harry couldnt help but praise. The distraction had bought him a critical window of time. When Voldemort finally snapped back to his senses and turned to face Harry again, he saw the boy clutching a pristine white totemits surface etched with cryptic symbols and unfamiliar script. Unlike the handcrafted totems used in ritual offerings, the ones a shaman used in battle were formed from the earth itself, their carvings serving only one purpose: a call for aid. That was why battle totems couldnt be pre-made. The moment they were completed, their magic would activate, summoning the elements immediately. And you couldnt just waste an elementals timeelementals had tempers too. Given that he was currently at Hogwarts Harry had pulled a piece of wood from his dragonskin pouch and carved one on the spot. Twenty years of professional shaman training made him a master at totem carving. "I didnt want to do this, Voldemort," Harry called out. "Mostly because this is going to be an absolute nightmare for Filch." "What?" Voldemort blinked. "Youre not seriously thinking of fighting me with that stick, are you?" Harry didnt answer. Instead, he drove the totem into the ground, slamming it through the stone floor of the underground corridor. Silence. Nothing happened. Voldemort tensed, glancing warily around himbut nothing stirred. "Perhaps Ive overestimated you, Harry," he sneered, raising his wand once more, irritation clear on his face. "For what you did eleven years agowait. Whats that sound?" A deep, rolling rumble. From above. From the walls. From the very pipes embedded within Hogwarts itself. A great surge of water was rushing through the castles underground. Then, a sudden series of bursts erupted from the restroom, loud and violentpipes cracking, faucets exploding. Indeed, there was no convenient elemental plane in this world. No great torrents of wind, no raging fires, not even earth elementals to summon at will. But there was one element in abundance. Water. Hogwarts was built on the edge of a cliff, right beside the vast expanse of the Black Lake. Slytherins common room was nestled beneath its surface, the view of the lake stretching beyond its windows. And right now, Harry was deep within Hogwarts underground chamberswhere countless pipes crisscrossed the stone halls. Ssshhh pshhhSPLASH!! No longer a trickle. No longer a mere leak. Water erupted in torrents, blasting from the pipes, flooding the floors in mere moments. The totem Harry had placed was a Water Elemental Totemits purpose: to awaken and summon the nearby water elementals, drawing upon lakes and rivers alike. "This is it?" Voldemort laughed, watching the water swirl at his feet. "This is the magic you rely on? You think you can defeat medefeat Lord Voldemort, who has even defied deathwith such a pathetic, feeble spell?!" "You''ve got it wrong, Voldemort," Harry smirked. "Youre the challenger here." "Me? A challenger?" Voldemorts already fragile composure cracked further. He roared, "Then lets see for ourselves who the real challenger isAVADA KEDAVRA!!" The corridor flashed green. But Harry didnt even flinch. Because standing before him, rising from the churning water, was a towering giantits entire form sculpted from living currents. A Water Elemental. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 60: Harry Strikes Down Voldemort... But Not Completely Unlike the earth element giants with their human-like legs, the water elemental giants lower half was a swirling mass of rapidly spinning currents, twisting upward like a vortex, as if ceaselessly drawing water from the surface beneath its feet, sending splashes of waves in all directions. Its upper body, however, bore a humanoid torso and head, complete with a pair of robust arms and hands. At first, one could still glimpse Harry through the translucent form of the water elemental, but as it swiftly absorbed more water, it was as though the liquid compressed and solidified within its frame. No longer transparent, it took on the murky blue-green hue of the Black Lakes depths. Tendrils of spinning water splashed outward from the elementals body in a ceaseless dance. Its towering figure was immenseso tall that its head grazed the corridors ceiling, nearly filling the entire section of the hallway and blocking Voldemorts view of Harry behind it. The green light of the Killing Curse sank into the water elementals form and vanished, like a stone swallowed by the seawhether it was digested or dispersed, no one could tell. What what kind of magic is this? Voldemort stared in stunned disbelief at the colossal entity before him. He had never encountered such a spellnot in its principles, its manifestation, or its origins did it resemble anything in his vast knowledge of magic. Yet there was no doubt this was a creation of magic. Muggles couldnt conjure something like this. To Voldemort, the source of Harrys summoned creature was unmistakably the waters of the Black Lake. He could see it clearlyfish were swimming within the elementals body. Wait, they could swim in there? But how could this be possible?! A mere first-year wizard, no matter how extraordinarily gifted or prodigious, was limited by the physical development of his body and the magic it could contain. So how could he possibly seize the waters of the Black Lake and craft a monstrosity like this?! And now, the monster moved. It merely raised its right arm and swung it toward Voldemort. A barrage of water arrows detached from its fist, hurtling toward him at breakneck speed. Facing this unknown magic, Voldemort didnt dare underestimate it. Prepared as he was, he dodged the water arrowsonly to gape in shock as they struck the wall behind him. On Hogwarts magically reinforced stone, they carved out a fist-sized dent. The destructive force of this magic rivaled some lesser dark spells! Yet Voldemort was certain it wasnt dark magicjust the sheer speed and power of the water propelled by that watery beast across from him. Before he could further ponder the nature of this enigma, the water elemental launched its next assaultFreezing Spell! A clear ring of ice radiated outward from the elemental, spreading rapidly in all directions. Wherever it passed, water solidified into ice. This was a spell with selective targeting, designed to strike only enemies within range, freezing them in place. But it failed. A torrent of roaring flames erupted from Voldemorts wand, crimson in hue. As they left the wand, they morphed into the shapes of birds, blazing with ferocious heat, clashing against the expanding ice ring. In an instant, the once-frigid water evaporated into scorching steam. The flames Voldemort summoned burned with astonishing intensity and malevolence, devouring everything in their paththe oil paintings on the walls, the statues lining the corridor, even the plaster itself wasnt spared. But Harrys water elemental refused to yield. Raising both hands, it summoned a surge of bursting pipes. A flood of Black Lake water gushed forth from the ruptured plumbing and the nearby bathroomWater Jet!! A torrent thicker than the embrace of three or four people shot from the elementals hands. If Voldemort were hit head-on, the body he possessed would be reduced to a pulpy mess, let alone cast any spells. As the icy deluge met those flames, it rapidly heated and turned into billowing steam. The corridors temperature skyrocketed, as if it had become a sauna. White vapor clouded the air, obscuring all sight. Unable to see the other side, Harry nonetheless heard a screamHermiones voice! Panic seized him in an instant. Alongside Hermiones cry, he caught the roar of trolls. He hadnt forgottentwo trolls were still over there with her. Harry sensed something unnatural about those flames. They seemed endless, as if theyd never extinguish so long as there was fuel to burneven if that fuel was water, the natural enemy of fire. Hahahahahahahaha!! Voldemorts maniacal laughter rang out. Do you see, Harry?! This is the power of dark magic!! That monster you went to such lengths to summon is useless before Fiendfyre! Give it a little more time, and itll consume all of Hogwarts! Burn this place to ashes!! Whoosh!! A gust of wind howled past, so swift that even the Fiendfyre beasts lunging forward couldnt catch it. It was Harry! Encased in a layer of icy armora frost shield bestowed by the water elemental upon its summoningHarry moved with blinding speed, what one might call a charge. Voldemort flinched, instinctively halting the Fiendfyres release to cast a protective shield on himself. But Harrys target wasnt him. Whistling past Voldemort, through the steam-cloaked, vision-blocked corridor, Harry slid across the icy floor with a smooth skrrt, as fluid as water itself. At that moment, the water elementals entire form unraveled, melting into the surrounding lake water. It transformed into a surging tide, crashing toward Voldemort with a force that threatened to flood the entire hallway. The reason Harry couldnt even spare a thought for Voldemort was, of course, Hermione. Especially after realizing the potency of Fiendfyre, her position behind Voldemort grew ever more perilousHarry didnt trust Voldemort to kindly spare her from its wrath. Stolen novel; please report. When Harry broke through and saw Hermione, the little girl was kneeling on the ground, her face etched with terror. She seemed too frightened to stand, her legs trembling as she tried to rise and flee, only managing to scoot backward, desperate to escape the two hulking trolls before her. One of the trolls had already noticed Hermione. Scratching its comically small head atop its massive frame, it grinned stupidly and raised its club, swinging it down toward her with ferocious force!! Elemental Strike!!! The corridor, already brimming with water elements, fused with omnipresent storm and flame elements, coalescing rapidly around Harry. The sheer force even tore a chunk from the bathroom wall near the doorbecause, as the saying goes, concretes an earth element too!! In a life-or-death moment like this, preserving the castle took a backseat. The power of four elementsearth, water, wind, and firespiraled and fused, slamming into the trolls head!! Unlike spells lacking tangible weight, Elemental Strike carried the heft of earth, delivering a devastating impact. The trolls entire body lurched sidewaysbut even so, its descending club merely veered from Hermiones head to her body. Ah!! Hermione instinctively covered her head, screaming. But at the last second, Harry lunged forward. His entire form morphed midair into a translucent Spirit Wolf, jaws wide as it clamped onto Hermiones waist, yanking her out of harms way! To Hermione, the world spun into chaos in an instant. The immense force at her waist left her powerless, flung like a ragdoll with no resistance. When the brief loss of control ended and she hit the ground, Hermione opened her eyes to see a translucent blue giant wolf wheel around and pounce on the second troll. The two titans clashed in the corridor with earth-shaking ferocity, the troll toppled to the ground under the wolfs assault. Hermione also saw the other trollits head, even the flesh near its neck, was gone, leaving only a charred, bloody stump oozing crimson. Its massive body slumped lifelessly. From start to finish, the little girls screams had barely ceased. Now, flailing in the water, she finally managed to dodge the collapsing corpse of the dead troll. Urgh!! It was her first time seeing such a gruesome death. Hermione couldnt hold back a dry heave. For Harry, though, Hermiones reaction was a reliefit meant she was safe. Compared to Voldemort, dispatching these two trolls was childs play. A wizards magic posed a far greater threat than the brute strength of creatures like trolls. To Harry, the real menace of these magical beasts wasnt their powerit was their stench. To a wolf, that smell was just too But then again, as a seasoned shaman hardened by countless battles, what hadnt Harry encountered? Compared to ogres, boarmen, demons, and the myriad places hed venturedsewers includeda trolls odor was a mere sprinkle of water. Hed even bitten down on the trolls tiny head, wrenching it clean off. The massive Spirit Wolf landed atop the falling corpse, spat out the head, and turned its gaze back to Voldemort. It all seemed to take an eternity, but in truth, mere seconds had passed. Voldemort had only just sealed the water elementalnow a raging torrenton the other side of the corridor with a spell. When he turned, Harry had already slain both trolls and was glaring at him with predatory intent. So this is the soul magic you wield? Voldemort chuckled darkly, his rationality seemingly regained after his outburst. Interestingcome on, Harry, let me see just how powerful your soul magic really is. Harry didnt respond, only letting out a low growl. The next second Avada Kedavra!!! A blinding green light streaked through the corridor. The Fiendfyre beasts under Voldemorts command lunged forward, claws bared, their scorching heat washing over Harry! With agile twists, he dodged the Killing Curses beam and charged at Voldemort!! ThenFinite Incantatem!!! A resonant, aged voice pierced the corridor. A visible orange ring pulsed outward from the floor, and wherever it passed, the Fiendfyre weakened, its bestial forms shrinking in fear. Even the golden shield around Voldemort flickered briefly before vanishing entirely. As the spells name implied, all enchantments met their end. By the time Harry reached Voldemort, the once-raging Fiendfyre had fully extinguished. His massive wolf claws slashed down! Razor-sharp talons tore through Voldemorts entire form! A shrieking black shadow burst from the confines of the dark robe, wailing in agony. Yet Voldemort laughed hysterically even as he fled, slipping through the floor without a single parting word, vanishing from sight. A flash of blue light shimmered, and the giant wolf in the corridors center faded. Harry stood on the ground once more, staring at what lay before hima corpse, if it could even be called that. It melted. Just as the word suggested, the body Voldemort had possessed dissolved. No flesh, no bonesjust a black robe soaking in the water that now flooded the corridor, swaying gently. A tar-like, liquid seeped faintly from the fabric, mingling with the current. Gazing at where Voldemort had disappeared, Harry realized this was the first time hed clearly seen Voldemorts soul. It was indeed his soulnot some new dark creature or shadow being, but a fragment, reduced to just a head. And on that fragment, Harry saw Voldemorts tormented expression. Beyond the fundamental agony of a soul split into pieces, there were the wounds left by the Spirit Wolfs claws. When transformed into the Spirit Wolf, Harrys attacks didnt just rend fleshthey harmed the soul itself. But these were mere post-battle musings. What struck Harry as familiar was the state of Voldemorts soul fragment nowa state he knew well, intimately so. Back in Azeroth, Harry had seen a soul fragment just like this, radiating a pitch-black glow. Not anywhere else, but within himself. To be precise, at his forehead. That scar. As a gifted shaman, Harry had only discovered that soul fragment after delving deep into the ways of the shaman, during his first infusion of elemental power, when he briefly ascended into an Elemental Ascendant formthe Ascension Ritual. And that was where the story had ended. Unlike Harry, who had walked far down the shamans path, that soul fragment seemed devoid of awareness, utterly ignorant of shamanic arts. The Ascension Ritual transformed a shamans mortal flesh into an elemental bodya process that essentially birthed a new elemental being. During the ritual, both body and soul underwent a baptism of elemental power. Only a shaman who truly grasped the essence of the elements and wielded their forces with mastery could complete it, emerging with the Elemental Ascendant form. Fire, air, waterthe three forms. The Ascendant could take on countless shapes, not limited to the four classical elements. Frost, mercury, even raw essence were among the possibilities. For Harry, it was simply a new power to protect Azeroth. But for the soul fragment lodged in him, it meant one thingdeath. Throughout the ritual, Harry could keenly sense the fragment in his head, watching as it shattered and disintegrated under the elemental infusion, leaving not even a trace of soul residue behind. No last wordsHarry hadnt even known why such a fragment existed within him, or whose it was, carelessly discarded. His own soul, after all, was whole and hale. Yet now, this mystery that had haunted him for years found its answer. Harry had never imagined that fragment could belong to Voldemortso minuscule it couldnt even retain its own consciousness. Voldemort wouldnt have deliberately sliced off a piece of his soul to plant in his enemy, either. It could only have been an accidentan unintended consequence of that murderous night eleven years ago. This sudden revelation left Harrys emotions tangled and complex. Clouds part, mists clear. Dumbledores incantation sounded from behind, accompanied by the sloshing of many feet wading through water. In an instant, the steam clogging the corridorblinding all sightdissipated. Good heavens!! Harry heard Professor McGonagall gasp, her voice trembling with shock at the scene before her. Was it him, Harry? Dumbledores voice cut in, calm but abrupt. Yes, Headmaster, Harry turned, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the professors. Just as you suspectedhe set a trap here. Voldemort. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 61: Hermione’s Embrace and Voldemort’s Condition To Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Snape, the scene before them was nothing short of hell itselfa clear indication that a life-or-death battle had just taken place. The most striking sight was undoubtedly the two fallen troll corpses. One had been completely decapitated, its head nowhere to be seen. Beside it lay a mass of solidified stone, faintly crackling with residual arcs of electricity. The other trolls head was still intactbut it was severed far from its body, hanging by a fragment of its exposed spine. From its gaping, unplugged neck, a torrent of blood gushed forth in an unrelenting stream. The sheer bulk of the trolls bodies completely clogged the corridor, and their pooling blood had turned the stagnant water at their feet a deep crimson. As Professor Snape frantically waved his wand to shift the corpses aside, he caught sight of Hermione sitting limply in the bloodstained water. Her black robes were soaked with a dark red hue, and tear tracks lined her face. To say that Professor McGonagall panicked would be an understatement. She immediately cast several diagnostic spells upon Hermione before finally letting out a sigh of relief. Only after the trolls bodies were removed did the group finally get a full view of what lay beyondand frankly, they almost wished they hadnt. It looked as if someone had attempted to demolish Hogwarts Castle itself. The entrance to the bathroom, along with the walls flanking it, had vanished entirely, leaving a gaping hole in their place. Every visible pipe within the bathroom had burst open, still spewing torrents of water from the Black Lake. In fact, it wasnt just the exposed pipesthose hidden within the walls of the corridor had also ruptured. The aftermath was chaos: broken debris, fragments of shattered stone, and an assortment of... fish and aquatic plants, all washed into the hallway from the lake. Fresh from the Black Lake, some of the fish were still flopping about on the floor, splashing water everywhere. Standing amidst the flooded corridor was a lone figureHarry. His back faced them, his left hand gripping his wand while his right held his warhammer. Further in the distance stood the towering, reshaped form of a water elemental. Was it him, Harry? Dumbledores gaze swept over the dark magic residue scorched into the walls and the blackened traces left by Fiendfyre. His question was vague, but he knew Harry would understand. Yes, Headmaster. Harry turned to face Dumbledore, confirming his suspicions. Its exactly as you thinkhe set a trap here. Voldemort. Harry! Snape suddenly hissed in a low voice, but his expression quickly hardened into a cold mask. Arrogant, recklessdo you think yourself so capable? He looked as though he wanted to storm over to Harry, but something held him back. To be honest, Harry had never heard Snape direct such words at him beforenormally, that kind of scolding was reserved for Ron. Oh, Merlin! Quirrell came rushing down the stairs, his face twisting in horror at the sight of the corridor. With a strangled cry, he collapsed onto the displaced troll corpse that Dumbledore had moved aside, covering his face as he whimpered in fear. Glancing at Quirrell, Harry then turned his gaze back to Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell fainted earlier, so we sent him to the hospital wing. Hes been with us this whole time, Dumbledore said, shaking his head slightly in response to Harrys silent inquiry. I believe we need to have a private conversation, Harry stated impassively. Indeed, I believe so as well, Dumbledore agreed. Im fine, Professor Snape, Harry said, turning to face him. If you were worried about methank you. But I believe some of the wizards on the floor are still alive. Could you check on them? Worried? Snapes lips thinned into something akin to a blade. Mr. Potter, you flatter yourself. No one worries about a reckless, brainless trollfoolhardy! Impulsive! Completely and utterly Snape had to take several deep breaths to keep himself from finishing that sentence. He cast a glance at Quirrell, who was still quietly sobbing, and his expression grew even darker. With a sharp splash, Snape stalked off to examine the fallen Dark wizards. Harry put away his warhammer and wand before raising his hand. The totem embedded in the floor lifted itself free, and in the next moment, the pipes that had been spewing torrents of water from the Black Lake fell silent. The flow of water didnt stop completely, but it was reduced to a natural trickle rather than an endless surge. Even the enormous water elemental vanishedbursting into a splash of droplets before merging with the flooded floor. How dare you, Mr. Potter! Professor McGonagalls hand clenched tightly around her wand, her face deathly pale. Fury dripped from her every word. This is not the kind of danger children should be facingwhy couldnt you, like Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom, leave matters to the professors?! You should be in the warmth of your common room, chatting by the firenot in a place like this! McGonagall was both terrified and lividHarry had never seen her this angry before. This was a trap, Professor, Harry repeated. A trap set specifically for me by Voldemort. I think you should check Hermione againwhen I found her, she was under Voldemorts control. Im not sure if there are lingering effects. What? McGonagall immediately abandoned her scolding, turning her wand on Hermione once more. Her earlier spells had only checked for physical injuries and dark magic residue. This time, she focused on Hermiones mind and memories. Her memory has been tampered with, McGonagall said through gritted teeth. No gaps, but the thought to hide in the bathroom was forcibly implanted. As for anything else... I cant tell. Professor Dumbledore, you know how difficult it is to detect the traces of the Imperius Curse. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Its alright, Minerva, Dumbledore said gently. Well simply need to keep an eye on her. Without continued exposure, the effects of the Imperius Curse wont persist indefinitely. Thats all we can do, McGonagall sighed. Harry trusted Dumbledore and McGonagall when it came to matters of magic. The water in the corridor had risen high enough to submerge their shoes. He waded through it to reach Hermione. How are you feeling, Hermione? Any pain in your bones? Harry crouched beside her, concerned about her ribsafter all, he had only just grazed her in his transformed wraith-wolf state. Though he hadnt intended to bite her hard, the situation had been chaotic. He wasnt sure if he had unintentionally hurt her. After everything that had happened, Hermione felt as if she were living in a nightmare. This morning, she had fought with Pansy Parkinson in Charms class, stormed out in anger after receiving a punishment from McGonagall, and been deeply upsetthough not so much that she would have hidden in the bathroom all day. Then, she had woken up to the stench of trolls. The battle, the dark-robed wizards, the torrents of water, the monstrous elemental, the consuming flames, the giant wolf lunging at her, the fallen trolls... It was too much. The moment she saw Harry, something inside her snapped. Harry!! she sobbed, throwing herself into his arms, clinging to his neck with all her strength. Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you for saving me!!! Harry stiffened for a moment before relaxing, patting her back in comfort. Dumbledore beamed. Even McGonagall seemed slightly less tense. Snape, however, was not pleased. Theyre werewolves, Professor Dumbledore, he said, seething. If tonight had been a full moon, the castle would have been overrun with three rampaging werewolves! "They were under the Imperius Curse as well?" Dumbledore asked. "As much as I''d like to say no, they were," Snape replied, his face dark. "I looked into their memories. These individuals were all werewolves who harbored deep hatred toward wizards." "Someone fed them information about making a fortune, but when they gathered, they realized they were being sent to attack Hogwarts." Snape let out a cold snort. "Even werewolves arent that foolish. They tried to flee, but it was already too late. As for the rest of the story, you all know what happened." "Is that so?" Dumbledore nodded. "Then, at the very least, in this matter, they are innocent Take them to the hospital wing for now. Keep them under control, and have Madam Pomfrey keep a close watch on them." "I hardly think thats necessary, Professor Dumbledore," Snape''s voice suddenly took on an uncharacteristically cheerful tone. "Thanks to the valiant efforts of our great Harry Potter, I doubt there''s much left of them to save." "Just to clarify, I only knocked out one at the start. The rest were actually killed by Voldemort," Harry said with a sigh as he comforted Hermione. Judging by Snape''s sarcastic tone, he was still angry with himotherwise, hed reserve such biting remarks for Ron instead. One of the werewolves had been incinerated on the spot when Voldemort unleashed Fiendfyre. The flames had devoured him so swiftly that he hadn''t even managed a scream. "Regardless, you took down four Dark wizards and two trolls and protected your classmates from them," Dumbledore declared, raising his voice slightly. "For your righteous actions and unwavering courage, Gryffindor is awarded fifty points, Harry." "As for now" Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, could I trouble you to take Hermione to the hospital wing? And the rest of you, I believe the castle requires a thorough inspection." "Of course, Professor Dumbledore." When Dumbledore became serious, no professor could refuse his request. Soon, the corridor was left with only Harry and Dumbledore. And with only the two of them remaining, the atmosphere in the corridor was no longer as harmonious as before. In fact, it had become downright hostile. Hostility directed at Dumbledorefrom Harry. "I suppose I should congratulate you, Harry. You''ve defeated Voldemort and protected your friends," Dumbledore said softly. "Your father and mother would be proud of you." "Perhaps," Harry turned to face Dumbledore, his expression serious. "But you broke your promise to me, Headmaster. And you failed in your duty. If I hadnt been here tonight, I dread to think what would have happened to Hermione." "Voldemort wouldnt have cared about her life, would he?" "I''m not making excuses for myself, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "In truth, Voldemort was only waiting for two people here tonightyou and me. I believe that regardless of which of us was present, Hermione would not have been harmed." "But I''m just a student at Hogwarts. I''m neither the headmaster nor its ruler," Harry took a deep breath. "So why havent you killed Quirrell yet? He should have completed his task tonight, and youve already gotten the information you wanted." "Actually, I havent," Dumbledore replied. "I understand that you''re angry, Harry, but please refrain from throwing around the word kill so lightly. It carries a great weight." His expression turned slightly peculiar. "Besides, it seems that one of my professors was a bit too diligent tonight. He intercepted Quirrell before he could succeed." "Who?" "Professor Snape," Dumbledore said straightforwardly. "But I do owe you and Hermione an apology for this. However, I assure you, Hermione is safe within the school." "Do you remember what happened on your first night at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore continued. "From the moment you crossed the Black Lake in the boats to the moment the Sorting Hat placed you into your houses, that entire process was part of a grand magical ritual. Its purpose is to ensure that young witches and wizards remain protected from fatal harm for their seven years at Hogwartseven if it manifests in the form of sheer coincidence." "Is that so?" Harry gave a derisive smile. "If students can''t suffer fatal harm at school, then how do you explain the ghost in the second-floor girls'' lavatory? She was a Hogwarts student, wasn''t she? Given her age, she must have died before she graduated." "Moaning Myrtle?" Dumbledore nodded. "That is a very good question, Harry, and one to which I do not have an answer." Dumbledore''s honesty was unexpected. "Myrtle''s death is tied to an incident from decades ago. I once pondered and investigated this matter thoroughly, but I never found a conclusive answer," he recalled. "I had two theories at the time. One was that the castle had suffered an attack or major damage, draining the rituals magic due to the sheer number of students being harmed." "Clearly, the castle wasn''t attacked decades ago, which led me to consider another possibility." Dumbledore shrugged. "That there was a loophole in the ritualsome way to bypass its protection and directly harm a student. But that is merely a hypothesis." "Just a hypothesis," Harry repeated. "Oh, Harry, I have been Hogwarts'' headmaster for decades," Dumbledore said with amusement. "You cannot begin to imagine the kind of trouble young witches and wizards get into each year. I can assure you, if the ritual were not in place, Hogwarts would have been shut down long ago due to parental outrage." Dumbledore''s reasoning was so persuasive that Harry found himself unable to refute it. He had already witnessed the incredible power and destructive potential of magic firsthand. Whether it was reality-defying Transfiguration or the vast array of spells available, he knew that Hogwarts'' students, in their youthful recklessness, frequently found themselves embroiled in conflicts and fights. Without an active protective enchantment, it was impossible to predict the chaos they might have caused over the decades. "So Quirrell is to be kept alive?" The urge to kill him flared up in Harry once more. "More than Quirrell, Harry, Id rather hear your thoughts on Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "You faced him directly tonight, did you not?" "He only has a fragment of his soul left," Harry stated firmly. "Is that the price he paid for surviving the rebounded Killing Curse eleven years ago?" "A fragment of his soul?" Dumbledore''s surprise was evident. "Yes, his soul is barely holding togetheronly the portion attached to his head remains. The rest is completely gone," Harry elaborated. "And I managed to wound his soul just now. He should be even weaker now." Dumbledores expression grew even more solemn. "You seem to already have an answer in mind," Harry raised an eyebrow. "So, is it time to kill Quirrell yet?" "It is merely a theory, Harryan uncertain one," Dumbledore admitted, shaking his head slightly. "I believe I need to consult some books before drawing any firm conclusions. Once I have a definitive answer, I will let you know." --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 62: Dumbledores Bottom Line and the Excited Trio "So, Quirrell?" "Oh, Harry." Dumbledore sighed. "At the very least, I can assure you that tonight, when the troll appeared, Professor Quirrell was under my watch the entire time. We cannot execute someone without concrete evidence." "Is that the line you''ve drawn for yourself?" Harry countered. "Barring any surprises, Voldemort is possessing Quirrell. Those dark wizards and the troll were let in by him. Hes a professorhe had the opportunity." "I believe Quirrell is struggling as well, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "He was once my student. I believe he deserves a chance to be saved." A heavy silence filled the corridor, broken only by the steady drip of water from the shattered pipes. "There wont be a next time, Headmaster Dumbledore." After a long pause, Harry exhaled deeply. "If Voldemort or Quirrell makes another dangerous move, even if you oppose it, even if it angers you, I will still insist on killing him. At the very least, tonight, I believe Ive earned the reward you promised." "Of course, Harry." Dumbledore nodded. "You more than deserve it. You''ve already taken on more than you should have. I must thank you." "Perhaps you should thank someone else too." Harry turned to the empty corridor. "Peeves? Are you still there?" Silence. "He really seems to be gone." Harry turned back. "But during tonights battle, Peeves was a great help. He distracted Voldemort quite well. I cant disregard his contribution But since hes not here now, I" "Aha!!" Harrys words were cut off by a sudden burst of laughter. Peeves head popped out from the ceiling, his face full of disbelief. "The little brat is talking about Peeves!" "Yes, you." Harry nodded at Peeves before turning back to Dumbledore. "I believe anyone who helps protect Hogwarts should be rewarded. Dont you think so, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Dumbledores expression for the first time, he seemed a little stumped. "Peeves well, Peeves." Dumbledore sighed deeply. "As Headmaster of Hogwarts, I truly appreciate your help Is there any reward youd like?" "Peeves wants to attend the feast!" As Dumbledores expression shifted to one of unsurprised resignation, Peeves did a joyful somersault in midair, shouting excitedly. "Alright, alright." Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "I will allow you to attend the Christmas feast this yearbut you absolutely must not throw rotten food or dead rats in the Great Hall, nor stuff pastries into people''s collars, nor overturn tables, nor sweep everything off of them In short, anything that disrupts the feast is strictly forbidden. Understood?" "No problem at all!" Peeves agreed with shocking enthusiasm, flipping head over heels toward the ceiling, still hollering, "Peeves gets to go to the feast~~ Baroooooo!!" Watching Peeves rush off, eager to brag to someone, Harrys expression turned a little complicated. He hadnt known Peeves wasnt allowed to attend holiday feasts. As for all those extra rules Dumbledore had tacked on something told him the Headmaster had learned from past experiences. "Forgive my stinginess, Harry," Dumbledore said with a resigned smile once Peeves was gone. "I must tell you, I have my reasons." "I think I can guess." Harry suddenly felt a little guilty. "I just hope the students attending this years Christmas feast wont blame me After all, he did contribute." Anyone who made a difference deserved recognition. Even warlocks who protected Azeroth were rewardedwhat harm was a single poltergeist? "Now, the final questionwhat about this mess?" Harry glanced around. "The traces of dark magic, the broken pipes, the shattered walls Considering Filchs workload and mood, I had originally hoped to keep the damage to a minimum." The entire corridor, along with several nearby classrooms, was completely flooded. Fish, water plants, and mud had been washed in by the water, leaving devastation in their wake. "Voldemort is not an opponent one can handle lightly." Dumbledore chuckled. "If you have no more questions, Harry, you should return to the common room. Your friends have likely been worried sick. Leave this to me." "Are you sure, Headmaster?" Harry asked. "Of course." Dumbledore grinned. "Honestly, Harry, this is much easier than stuffing a whole mountain into a trunk." Harry let out a dry chuckle and chose to pretend he hadnt heard that, making his way back. By the time he returned to the Gryffindor common room, there werent many people left. Ron and Neville were sitting by the fireplace, and the moment Harry climbed in, they visibly relaxed and rushed to greet him. "Are you alright, Harry? What about Hermione?" "Shes fine. Shes spending the night in the hospital wing." Harry smiled. "Dont worry, shes not hurt. Its just a precaution." "So what happened after?" Ron asked impatiently. "Did you run into the troll in the underground classroom? What about the intruders? We wanted to go help, but Professor McGonagall sent us back." "You were right to stay put." Harry shook his head. "Voldemort was possessing one of the intruders. Compared to him, the troll was a minor issue." It was as if theyd been doused with ice water. Ron and Neville stiffened, shuddering violently. "VoVolYou-Know-Who?!" Ron stammered. "Are you serious?!" "Of course." Harry confirmed. "Voldemorts physical body is long gone. He can only survive by attaching his soul fragments to others." "Oh, Harry, please dont say that name," Ron shivered, practically pleading. "What happened to the person he possessed?" Neville asked, curiosity overcoming fear. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "The one I saw tonight died horriblythere wasnt even a body left, just a puddle of black liquid." Harry looked at his two friends seriously. "Ill explain more when Hermione is back. But listenif I ever tell you, in all seriousness, to return to your dorm or follow my instructions, I need you to trust me. No reckless heroics. Promise me?" Ron and Neville exchanged glances, swallowing hard. "Alright, Harry." Night had fallen deep, and they didnt talk much longer before heading to bed. But for Ron and Neville, sleep did not come easy. On one hand, they desperately wanted to hear more about what had happened that night. On the other, Voldemorts lingering presence haunted their thoughts, filling them with fear. So when Harry emerged from his trunk the next morning after his workout, he found Ron and Neville both sporting heavy dark circles under their eyes. Then, stepping out of the dormitory, he saw Hermione sitting in the common room, also with dark circles. She had clearly been waiting for them for a long time because the moment she saw Harry, she stood up and rushed over. Without saying a word, she stood on her toes and threw her arms around him, completely ignoring the stares of other students. "Thank you again, Harry! You saved my life!" The words had likely been spinning in her head all night. She was so overwhelmed she could barely speak coherently. "Merlin, I cant imagine how heartbroken my mum and dad would be if something happened to me! I dont even know what theyd do! Thank you! Thank you so much!" Hermiones hug was incredibly tight. She had clearly spent the whole night in fear and anxiety. The moment she was released from the hospital wing, she had waited in the common room for them to wake up. As Harry gently patted her back to comfort her, he realized she was crying again. Her tears dampened his shirt and the upper-year students had definitely noticed. Some were even whistling. Leading the charge? None other than Fred and George Weasley. What happened last night didnt seem to have spread throughout the castle. All right, all right, wipe your tears first. Lets talk outside. If they stayed here any longer, more people would come out and see them. Considering how thin-skinned the little girl was, Harry quickly said to Hermione. The four of them dashed out of the Gryffindor common room amidst a chorus of whistles. Hermione, in particular, bolted ahead of the rest. It wasnt until that moment that she fully realized what kind of situation they were inher face flushed red, and she sprinted at the front of the group. Without stopping along the way, they arrived at a secluded corner by the Black Lake and sat down. To be honest, Ron and Neville were just as anxious. They had been waiting all night, eager to know exactly what had happened the previous evening. Is it just me, Ron asked, a little confused, or were there a lot of students staring at you just now, Harry? I meansure, they used to do that too, but that was back when school had just started, wasnt it? In the first few days after term began, Harry had been pointed at and watched wherever he went, and it had put him on edge. I dont know. But yeah, people were looking at me Whatever, it doesnt matter. I think theres something you all need to know, Harry said. Considering the safety of his friends, he didnt want them to live in ignorance any longer. Do you remember the forbidden corridor on the fourth floor that Dumbledore mentioned at the start of term? Harry got straight to the point. Quirrell is working for Voldemort. Hes trying to get into that room to steal something. I need you to keep this secret. And from now on, you should avoid Quirrell as much as possible. The moment Harry spoke, it was like he had dropped a bomb. The other three were completely stunned. To be honest, they would rather believe that Snape was Voldemorts follower than accept that the timid, stammering Professor Quirrell was working for the Dark Lord. Thenthen shouldnt we tell Professor Dumbledore right away? Neville stammered. Professor Dumbledore already knows, Harry explained. In fact, that room on the fourth floor is a trap set for Quirrell. Dumbledore wants to confirm some things about Voldemort, so hes letting Quirrell run free in the castle. For Merlins sake, Harry, stop saying that name, Ron shuddered and grumbled. So last nightthe trolls, the intruderQuirrell let them in? Harry nodded. Unlike Dumbledore, Harry had always believed that children shouldnt be kept in the dark, especially when it came to danger. Young children often possessed an unusual mix of curiosity and boldness. That was precisely why they needed to be clearly warned about the severity and risks of certain situations. Just like in Azerotheven a child of a few years old knew which places were dangerous, what could and couldnt be done, and how to rein in their curiosity. (And when in doubt, they would just issue a quest for an adventurer to handle it.) Of course, if someone insisted on seeking death even after being warned about the dangers, then there was nothing to be done. Harry made sure to explain Quirrells danger in full detail, omitting only the part about the Voldemort fragment attached to him. He recounted everything from previous incidents to what had happened last night. He also made Hermione swear to the same promise he had asked of Ron and Neville. So when we arrived at Hogwarts by boat and put on the Sorting Hat, it was actually a magical ritual? Hermione asked in disbelief. Magic like that exists? Well, I think it makes sense, Ron said slowly. You have to remember, the spells that upper-year students can use are way beyond what we first-years can manage. Remember what Fred and George told us? The year before we started, older students were dueling in the corridors. Yeah. Without protection, who knows what kind of mess might happen? Neville agreed. Especially when multiple spells mix together. St. Mungos sees a lot of patients like that every year. So, Hermione, you dont actually need to uh, thank me so much, Harry said after some thought. As long as the effects of the ritual are still in place, you wouldnt have been fatally injured. But Dumbledore said that the ritual manifests itself even through what seem like coincidencesand you were that coincidence, Harry! Hermione insisted. Or rather, the ritual determined that if you hadnt appeared, I wouldve died! You still saved my life! After everything that had happened last night, Hermione seemed to have become an even firmer believer in magic. And you can turn into a giant wolf, Harry! Is that Transfiguration?! Like what Professor McGonagall showed us in our first Transfiguration class? Are you an Animagus?! Hermiones eyes were practically glowing. Oi, mate, you didnt mention that earlier! Ron immediately forgot about his worries regarding Quirrell and whipped his head around. A wolf! A giant wolf! Just listen to thathow cool was that?! When Harry had explained his battle with Voldemort, he had skimmed over most of the details, only saying that he had fought him. Now, he had no choice but to sit there in mild embarrassment while Hermione excitedly recounted the entire underground corridor battle to Ron and Neville. To be honest, Harry hadnt expected his fight with Voldemort to sound so well, dramatic in Hermiones retelling. Yes, dramatic. It was the kind of excitement that only became clear in hindsight. The sudden flood from the Black Lake that burst through Hogwarts plumbing, the towering water giant, the all-consuming flames, the enormous wolf larger than two full-grown men It was as if Hermiones deep curiosity about magic had been perfectly satisfied. That wasnt Animagus magic, Harry explained to his fascinated friends. Its a spell used by shaman. It lets me transform into a ghost wolf. Its a type of spirit magic, not Transfiguration. Thats seriously cool, mate, Ron said in awe. Do you think I could become a shaman? I want to turn into a wolf tooimagine us taking a stroll in the Forbidden Forest together! Well, youll have to study hard for that, Ron. Harry held back a laughhe knew just how much Ron hated studying. Sure enough, Ron let out a groan of despair. He truly despised studying. And that spell you used to defeat the troll! Neville mimicked gestures as he spoke, his face filled with longing. Hermione said you blew apart the bathroom walland then there was fire! And lightning!! Yeah! Ron finally processed what had been said earlier. Looks like you went easy on the centaur that dayI mean, at least you didnt blast his head off like you did with the trolls. I had no deep grudge against the centaur, Harry said with a shake of his head. We just had a disagreement over Divination, and that led to a minor scuffle. Naturally, the fight wasnt going to be that serious. To be honest, Id be happy to teach the centaurs my divination magic, Harry said sincerely. That way, they could clearly show people their futures instead of leaving them confused and resentful. Thats probably not gonna happen, Ron said dryly. According to Hagrid, centaurs arent incapable of explaining their propheciesthey just dont want to. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon.com/windkaze Chapter 63: Hermiones Invitation and Ritas Report "Well, there''s nothing we can do about that." Harry shrugged. "Once I spread the Way of the Shaman in the future, wizards will be able to divine certain things for themselves, at least to some extent. That way, they won''t have to rely on centaurs anymore." "Oh, that might take a long time," Ron said with a grin. "Good thing we can just come to you when we need a divination, Harry." His tone made it sound like he was saying, "Learning? Impossible. Not in this lifetime." "Rather than asking Harry, I''d rather study and master divination myself." Hermione shook her head. "Ron, you can''t spend your whole life depending on Harry." Now, that''s what you''d call ambition. "No worries, I believe Harry will help me out," Ron said nonchalantly. "Besides, Hermione, you seem to forgetdivination requires talent, even for Harry. I reckon that even if he were willing to selflessly teach others, only a handful of wizards would actually be able to learn it." "Uh, speaking of which, Harry, whats left on your list of unfulfilled prophecies?" Ron suddenly realized something. "It should just be Quirrells, right? Hermiones already came true yesterdayshe really did hide in an underground classroom and cry." "I! Did! Not! Hide! And! Cry!" Hermione practically spat out each word, fuming. "Harry can vouch for me! It was Voldemort who influenced my thoughts!" "But yesterday morning, after Professor McGonagall punished you, you did leave on your own," Ron pointed out shrewdly. His thinking always seemed particularly sharp in moments like these. "And didnt Harry say? The Dark Lord only planted the thoughthe didnt actually change the way you think." Hermiones breathing grew rapid. Then, suddenly, she straightened her back. "You''ve never fought a Niffler." She stared down at Ron with an air of disdain. "I got stung by a Billywig!" Ron snapped back, clearly incensed. "I was floating in the air, okay? Of course, I couldnt do anything about the Niffler!" "Ha, you nearly cried when it stole your Knuts." Hermiones smirk grew even more condescending. "I did not cry! You have no idea what those Knuts meant to me!" "You got beaten by a Niffler," Hermione repeated flatly. "Merlins red underpants! Can we stop talking about the bloody Niffler?" Ron was starting to lose ground. "Of course." Hermione suddenly flashed a sweet smile. "Your trousers are falling." "Oh, for Merlins sake!!!" Ron let out a dramatic wail, completely crushed. That humiliating defeat at the hands of a Niffler had become his worst nightmare of late, a wound that even Newt Scamander personally bringing the creature over to apologize couldnt heal. Watching Ron collapse onto Neville in utter defeat, Hermione suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right, Harry" She turned to him, her cheeks flushing slightly, her gaze darting around. "I was thinking, um, as a thank you for saving me, Id like to invite you over to my house during the holidays. My mum and dad would be very grateful as well. UhRon, Neville, do you want to come too? I suppose were friendsright?" As proper Britons, inviting someone to your home typically signified a certain level of closeness or trust. This unspoken rule applied even among children. "Of course, we are!" Ron responded cheerfully. "Honestly, Ive never been to a Muggle house before. My dad will be so jealous!" The redhead looked so eager that he seemed ready to dash off to Hermiones place immediately. "Yes, Hermione," Neville said excitedly. "Id love to come!" "Thats great!" Hermione beamed. "How about during the Christmas holidays? My mums cooking is really goodyoull love it." "Christmas holidays?" Ron froze. "Uh I think Ill be staying at Hogwarts you know, with Fred and George." "Um, I dont think I can either," Neville scratched his head awkwardly. "I have to spend Christmas with my gran" His voice trailed off into an almost inaudible mumble, but his meaning was clear enough. "Then lets wait until summer break." Seeing Hermiones expectant gaze, Harry thought for a moment before deciding. "That way, Ron and Neville can join too. Ill probably stay at school for Christmas as well." He planned to use the break to bury himself in books. "Summer, then?" Hermione looked a little disappointed but still nodded. "Alright, that works. I was actually thinkingwait, is that Hagrid?" She suddenly stopped, pointing towards a figure walking along the lakeside, waving enthusiastically. It was indeed Hagrid. Ron and Neville quickly got up and walked over, while Harry was about to follow when Hermione pulled him back, causing them to lag behind. "Something wrong?" Harry asked, puzzled. "Its justjustdo you think Im annoying?" Hermione hesitated before blurting out, "I talk too much, and I always take my frustrations out on others when I cant keep up with you." Harry understood immediately. So that was it. Pansys words had gotten under her skin. No wonder Hermione seemed different today. "Of course not," Harry said firmly. "You just have a strong personality. I once had a friend even more headstrong than youespecially when it came to matters of principle. She was incredibly stubborn." "She?" Hermione asked, surprised. "Its all in the past now," Harry shook his head. "Anyway, dont let Pansys words get to you. Shes not your friend, so naturally, anything she says is meant to hurt you. No need to take it seriously." "I see" Hermione took a deep breath. "Thenno, never mind. Lets catch up." This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "What?" Harry had always hated two kinds of peoplethose who only spoke half a sentence, and "Nothing!" Hermione shook her head forcefully. "Lets go! Its rude to keep Hagrid waiting!" With that, she strode ahead, and Harry, sighing, followed after her. "Hey! Harry! There you are!" Before they even got close, Hagrids booming voice reached them. "Fred and George Weasley came lookin for ya. Said you should head to the Quidditch pitch." "It must be about Harry making the Gryffindor team!" Ron said excitedly. "You know, Hagrid, the Quidditch season is about to start! First matchGryffindor versus Slytherin!" "Thats a big one!" Hagrid waved a fist, looking serious. "Make sure to trounce em, Harry!" "Ill do my best." Harry grinned. "Make sure you come watch my match." "Course I will!" Hagrid laughed heartily. "Want me to take some pictures for ya?" "No photos, please," Harry quickly declined. "Alright, Ill head to the pitch now." "Go on then, Harry," Hagrid chuckled. "Oh, and congrats on making the Daily Prophet againyoure probably the most talked-about person this year." Harry stopped in his tracks. "The Daily Prophet?" "Aye," Hagrid sighed. "Seems word got out about what happened in the Forbidden Forest Damn it, some folks really cant keep their mouths shut." Muttering complaints, he pulled a slightly crumpled newspaper from his pocket. No picture this timewas Harrys first thought. Honestly, if the Prophet had managed to snap a picture of him in the forest, hed be utterly impressedand more than a little suspicious that wizards had some kind of magical surveillance on him. The article described how the newspaper had received a tip-off from a certain wizard, prompting reporter Rita Skeeter to investigate. After interviewing multiple eyewitnesses of the Forbidden Forest incident, she had reached one conclusion: We must acknowledge that the Boy Who Livedno, perhaps we can no longer call him merely that. Evidence suggests that some wizards are destined for greatness from birth, possessing powers far beyond their peers. And so, we must ask: was the Dark Lords defeat truly an accident, or was it inevitable? What secrets is the Savior of the Wizarding World still hiding? But no matter what, we must admit that our savior has finally given those centaurs a taste of their own medicine. The Daily Prophet has received far too many letters from wizards complaining about their arrogancenot to mention how they shamelessly take a hefty sum of Galleons but fail to provide a single satisfying answer. Its hard to imagine that the one who stood up for justice and disciplined the centaurs would turn out to be a mere first-year student. As I said earlier, some wizards are simply born extraordinary. They possess wisdom and power far beyond their years. At the same time, one cant help but wonderdoes this entire incident point to negligence on the part of the Ministry of Magic? Especially when it comes to their handling of centaurs, merfolk, and other sentient magical beings, have they deliberately turned a blind eye to the rights that wizards rightfully deserve? Harry put down the newspaper. No wonder people had been looking at him strangely in the corridors today. ...You paid her off with Galleons, didnt you? After skimming through the article, Ron looked up at Harry in disbelief. Merlin, shes praising you in ways I couldnt even dream up. The Daily Prophet had clearly stumbled upon a prodigious talentpraising Harry left and right, hailing him as a battle-hardened warrior, an unstoppable force. Hah! So you do realize youre always hyping Harry up? Hermione shot back sharply. But I only ever speak the truth! Ron protested indignantly. Ive never told a single lie about Harry! How can that possibly be wrong? Telling the truth isnt wrong at all, Hagrid agreed with a nod, though he looked somewhat perplexed. But its strange This doesnt sound like something Rita Skeeter would write. She hasnt even met you, Harry. Its actually quite simple, Hagrid. Harry folded the newspaper and handed it back. To the wizarding world outside of Hogwarts, I dont really matter. What matters is Professor Dumbledore. The Daily Prophet is basically the official newspaper of the British wizarding community, right? Harry continued. So in reality, this article reflects the Ministrys stance. My guess? Theyre trying to curry favor with Dumbledore for some reason. Hah! That explains it. Hagrid let out a derisive snort. Fudge is a spineless git. He only became Minister of Magic last year thanks to Dumbledores support. Truth is, hardly anyone actually backed him. So thats why the Ministry and The Daily Prophet are showering Harry with praise? Hermione said, catching on. They want Dumbledores backingafter all, hes incredibly influential, both in Britain and internationally. Exactly. If Dumbledore had wanted to be Minister of Magic, Fudge wouldnt have stood a chance. Hagrid shrugged. Thats not necessarily the case, Harry shook his head. We dont have enough information from where we stand, so we shouldnt jump to conclusionsanyway, Im heading to the Quidditch pitch. Want to come? Nope. Shockingly, it was RonHarrys number-one fanwho refused first. He shook his head. I want to save the excitement for the first match. I know youll win for Gryffindor, but if I watch you train now, itll ruin the suspense. That actually made sense. So much sense, in fact, that even Hermione was convinced. In the end, Harry headed to the pitch alone. Not that he minded. Today, the Quidditch pitch was entirely reserved for the Gryffindor team. Aside from the Weasley twins and Oliver Woodwhom Harry already knew wellthere were three other players, all deep in training. That is, until Wood noticed Harry and blew his whistle, signaling the team to land. Youre here, Harry? Wood greeted him with an enthusiasm that was borderline overwhelming, pulling him into a bear hug before turning him toward the others. Lets do introductions first. This is Harry Potterthough Im sure you all already know him. Of course, Wood! Who doesnt know him? Hes practically more familiar than my socks Or my horns? The moment Wood finished speaking, Fred and George Weasley chimed in with mischievous grins. As they spoke, they each pressed a hand to their foreheads. It was then that Harry noticed they were both wearing headbands which sat snugly beneath a pair of bull horns. The next second, the headbands let out two loud, perfectly realistic cow moos. Harry felt his blood rush straight to his head. His temple twitched. Hey, Harry! Stay calm! Keep your cool! Amidst the uproarious laughter, Fred quickly clarified, Its the headbands making the sound, not the hornsdont get the wrong idea! That only made everyone laugh harder. Freds explanation had all the credibility of a thief loudly proclaiming their innocence. I definitely didnt misunderstand, Harry said through gritted teeth. You two are so clever. Clever little devils. (Grinding his teeth.) Nice to meet youIm Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor Chaser. A girl with dark braided hair stepped forward, extending a hand. You have no idea how many times Wood has gone on and on about how amazing you are. Honestly, hes been insufferable. Hey! Angelina! Wood protested. You cant say thatIm the team captain! I need authority! Ill do my best not to disappoint, Harry said as he shook her handthen turned to shake the hands of the other two players. The remaining Gryffindor team members were Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet, both also Chasers. They seemed like great peopleor at the very least, if Wood had chosen them, their character was probably solid. The team atmosphere felt easygoing and supportive. Gryffindors Quidditch team wasnt large, with no reserve players. When Charlie Weasley graduated last year, his absence left a glaring gap in the lineup, which had caused Wood no small amount of stress. Honestly, Harry, we really need a strong Seeker. Before you, Charlie held that position, and he did a solid job, Wood said, draping an arm over Harrys shoulders. I still stand by my judgmentyour build is perfect for a Seeker. Itd be a shame if you chose another position. But He grinned. We already made a deal. The choice is yours. Woods grin widened. But before you pick your position, theres something elseyou''re going to need a proper broom. We cant have you flying against Slytherin on one of those old twigs from the schools broom shed. Yeah, I noticed, Harry muttered, unable to hold back his sarcasm. No matter how tightly you guys huddle together, theres no hiding whats behind you. Give it up already. While Harry had been chatting with Angelina and the others about Quidditch tactics, Wood, Fred, and George had snuck off to the locker rooms. It didnt take them long to return. No matter how hard they tried to shield it, they couldnt hide the very obvious package behind them. It was wrapped in brown leather, mostly long and cylindricalone end slightly thicker than the other. There was no mistaking it. It was a broomstick.
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Chapter 64: Harry’s First Quidditch Match "Well, Harry, we thought we could surprise you," George shrugged. No longer keeping it a secret, Fred handed the broomstick he had been hiding behind his back to Harry. "Go on, unwrap it," Wood said with a grin. "Youre going to love it." Without hesitation, Harry tore open the brown wrapping paper in a few quick moves, revealing the broom inside. The polished mahogany handle gleamed with a warm amber hue, smooth to the touch. Compared to the schools practice brooms, it felt astonishingly lightalmost impossibly so. "Isnt it beautiful?" Wood said excitedly. "This is the brand-new Nimbus 2000! Mahogany handle, the fastest speed among all flying brooms availableits miles ahead of the Cleansweep series!" As he spoke, Wood suddenly seemed to remember something. Leaning in close to Harry, he whispered, "I wont take credit for this, Harry. This broom was actually a gift from Professor McGonagall. Keep it quietthis might be the first time in years shes ever given a student a broom." Professor McGonagall? Harry was stunned. He never expected the stern, no-nonsense professor, who always upheld fairness and discipline, to gift him a broomstick. Was it because of his fame in the wizarding world? Or was her desire for the Quidditch Cup so overwhelming that she was willing to bend the rules? Either way, it was undeniably a gifta gift that might have even made McGonagall go against her own principles. Well perhaps she had already broken them when she arranged for Harry, a first-year, to join the team. After all, most students had to wait until their second year to even try out. All of this, just to ensure Gryffindor would claim the Quidditch Cup this year. Classic Gryffindor. Even the older Gryffindors were still very much Gryffindors at heart. "Dont worry, Wood," Harry said solemnly. "Ill bring home a decisive victory for Professor McGonagall. The Quidditch Cup is as good as ours this year." To Harry, this was like accepting a well-paid missionone where he had already received his reward in advance. A Tauren always keeps their promises. "Thats the spirit!" Wood beamed. "Yeah, Harry, thats fantasticbut Wood, why does Harry get a new broom and not us? Thats so unfair!" Angelina called out teasingly. "If you can knock Flints head off with a Quaffle, Id get you one too!" Wood shot back before turning to Harry. "Go on, take a lapshow them what youve got." Show them? That was no problem at all. That day, every member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team witnessed something they couldnt quite put into words. But by the time practice ended and they headed to the Great Hall for dinner, their expressions said it allfrom Wood to every last player, each of them carried an unmistakable confidence. Their behavior, of course, piqued the curiosity of many. Yet, when questioned, they refused to give away a single detail, only repeating one phrase: "Weve already won." It was infuriating. No one likes to be kept in suspensebut everyone loves keeping others in suspense. Thats part of the fun. As November arrived, the Quidditch season officially began, and so did the cold. Most days, the hills surrounding the school were covered in a grayish-white mist, dusted with snow. Even the Black Lake had grown frigid to the touch, ice-cold against the skin. When Harry visited Hagrid for a drink, the gamekeeper had already bundled himself up in a long mole-fur coat, rabbit-fur gloves, and enormous beaver-fur bootspractically in full winter gear. This had become something of a regular pastime for them. When they had free time, they would sit together, have a drink, and chat. Sometimes they drank Hagrids homemade brew, other times it was something Harry had brought along. With a vault full of Galleons, stocking up on fine liquor was no challenge for himespecially now that he even had land of his own. Though it was tough on Gianna, his owl, who had to carry the bottles back and forth. For a small owl, that was quite the burden. Perhaps it was Harrys experienced manner when drinking, or maybe it was their shared adventure in the Forbidden Forest, but whatever the reason, Hagrid no longer treated him like a child in need of protection. By the fire, Hagrid would reminisce about interesting things hed seen over the yearssometimes tales from within the castle, sometimes amusing stories from the wizarding world. Harry, in turn, would share his own adventures. Though, logically speaking, some of his experiences didnt quite match his age, Hagrid never doubted him. Even when Harry spoke of strange creatures and unfamiliar lands, the gamekeeper believed every wordespecially when it came to the unusual beasts. He was always pestering Harry for more details. In Hagrids mind, Harry had undoubtedly lived through a magical journey beyond imagination. After all, whether it was the way he called himself a shaman or the unique abilities he displayed, none of it matched anything known to wizardkind. Hagrid wasnt surprised in the slightest. As far as he was concerned, Harry was on the path to becoming the next Dumbledore. And for a wizard destined to shape an era, nothing that happened around him could ever be considered strange. -- "Honestly, Harry, I never thought youd choose to be a Beater," Hagrid said, tipsy. "James was a Chaser for Gryffindor, you know I mean, what about the Weasley twins?" "Before them, Id never seen Beaters as in-sync as they are," Hagrid mused. "Honestly, they might as well be two Bludgers themselves." "George lost a bet with Fred in rock-paper-scissors, so he became our Seeker," Harry explained, sipping his butterbeer. "Fred and I tried training together and found that we actually work pretty well as Beatersnot worse than before, at least." "That so? Well, thats good," Hagrid said, patting his belly. "But listen, Harry, this weekend is Gryffindor versus Slytherinyoull need to be careful." "There are countless ways to commit fouls in Quidditch, and those Slytherins never play by the rules. Theyd rather knock their opponents off their brooms than actually play the game," Hagrid huffed. "And thats not even the worst of it! Harry, before the match, dont eat anything from strangers, and dont wander the corridors aloneoh, right, I guess you dont have to worry about that." If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "If any Slytherin tries to ambush you to keep you from playing, theyll be the ones regretting it! HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Hagrid burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "I cant believe I came here to escape the nagging, and now I have to hear it from you too," Harry sighed. "You have no idea how tense Ron and the others are. Hermione even borrowed Quidditch Through the Ages from the library and reads the rulebook to me every dayI swear, my heads about to explode." "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Hagrid roared with laughter. Even though Harry protested against his friends excessive anxiety, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had their own ideasespecially Hermione, who worried that Harry might rack up too many fouls and get penalized. But honestly, Harry thought her concerns were unnecessary. In Quidditch, the worst a foul could lead to was a penalty shot. Even if a player was injured, substitutions werent allowedthe lineup was locked in until the match ended. Substitute players were only allowed to enter the game if the Seeker failed to catch the Golden Snitch and the match had dragged on for several days, at which point the exhausted Seekers could be swapped out for a short nap. To be honest, Harry felt that Quidditch carried a rather primitive essence. Perhaps it was because wizards had so few entertainment options. On the day of an official match, from the moment breakfast began, the entire castle was filled with an electrifying atmosphere. Nearly everyone was caught up in heated discussions about who would win or lose todays matcheven Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, who had no games scheduled, joined in the excitement. Harry overheard parts of the debate, and unsurprisingly, some of it centered on him. One faction was convinced that this was merely another inevitable victory for the great Harry Potter, while the other well, to put it bluntly, the Slytherins were jeering that Gryffindor should prepare a mattress to carry around beneath him in case Harry fell off his broom. Honestly, Harry had never planned to hold back in this match, but now? He was even more determined not to. Tauren were, for the most part, peaceful and kind by nature, but that didnt mean they were saints. They were just ordinary bulls, after all. Harry had met his fair share of Tauren pirates sailing the seas, and even some who had outright pledged allegiance to demons. By eleven oclock, nearly the entire Hogwarts faculty and student body had gathered in the Quidditch stands. Many students brought binoculars, and some seats were elevated high into the air, yet even so, it was sometimes difficult to keep track of the fast-paced game. In the locker room, Harry and his teammates had already donned their vibrant red Quidditch robes. How could we possibly lose? With a serious expression, Wood looked over his team and bellowed, We cant lose! I mean, come onhow do you lose with Harry on the field?!! Hey, hold on, Wood, Fred raised a hand in protest. Arent you forgetting something? Ah, youre right. Wood nodded solemnly. Even with Harry as our secret weapon, every single one of us is crucial to this team. No, no, no, not that, George shook his head repeatedly. We meant your speechthe one for this oh-so-important moment. The speech weve all been waiting for, Fred grinned and turned to Harry. Olivers speeches? Weve memorized them by heart. Weve been on this team since last year. Shut up, you two, Wood snapped, clearly exasperated. I should apologize to myself for even considering that you might have had something sensible to say. In any case, this years team is the best Gryffindor has had in years, Wood declared loudly. Were going to win! The Quidditch Cup belongs to Gryffindor this year!! OH!! For the Horde!!! It was almost impossible to believe that the ones shouting such a battle cry were none other than Fred and George. To be honest, hearing the twins yell that while everyone else was cheering in response to Wood made Harry clench his fists. Even now, both Fred and George sported a pair of horns on their heads. And not just themalmost every teammate had been persuaded into wearing the same horns and matching headbands. Youre really not joining in, Oliver? Fred extended a hand invitingly. Are you truly that cold and heartless? For Merlins sake, shut up alreadyjust give me that. Wood let out a deep sigh before snatching the horns and fastening them to his own head. Victory!! As the doors swung open, Wood led the team onto the pitch, Gryffindor emerging from one side while Slytherin strode in from the other. The stadium seats had been raised to enclose the field, forming a coliseum-like atmosphere packed with spectators. The air was electric with cheers, and Harry could hear countless voices calling out his name. Truth be told, this feeling was oddly familiar. The only difference was that, in the past, when he found himself in such an arena, it wasnt for a friendly competitionit was to knock down or kill his opponent. Well, perhaps this wasnt entirely friendly either. After all, this was the classic Gryffindor vs. Slytherin rivalry. The moment the two teams stood face to face, the tension was palpable, the air thick with an almost tangible gunpowder scent. When Wood shook hands with the Slytherin captain, they both gripped so tightly it seemed they were trying to crush each others bones, their faces turning red with effort. Madam Hooch had to smack their locked hands apart before they finally let go. She took a moment to remind both teams about fair play, sportsmanship, and the importance of an honest, friendly gamebut Harry had his doubts. Gryffindor and Slytherin had their own unique house dynamics. The whistle blew, and fifteen broomsticks shot into the sky. Harry, thanks to the superior performance of his Nimbus 2000, was the fastest of them all. A roar of excitement erupted from the stands, students wildly waving their banners and chanting encouragement. As Harry zipped past them, he could hear the crowd cheeringalong with an unexpected series of cow moos? For a split second, Harry nearly lost control of his broom. With just a glance, he noticed that most of the Gryffindor supporters were wearing bull horns, some even with matching headbands. As he sped past, they gleefully pressed their headbands to produce the absurd mooing sound while waving their flags enthusiastically. Even as he flew past the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stands, the bizarre mooing didnt cease entirelysporadic voices still rang out in support. Hello, everyone! This is your commentator, Lee Jordan! The voice boomed from the highest platform. Harry knew himhe was Fred and Georges friend, someone who shared their mischievous streak. Gryffindors Angelina Johnson has grabbed the Quafflewhat an outstanding Chaser she is! And might I add, quite the looker Jordan!! Sorry, Professor. As a close friend of Fred and George, Lee Jordans commentary was under the ever-watchful eye of Professor McGonagall. It was fittingshe was, after all, the professor most passionate about Quidditch. Sitting at the best vantage point in the entire stadium, even Dumbledore himself had to scoot aside for her. Angelina is charging toward the goalshe passes! Beautiful pass! Alicia Spinnet catches it! Last year, she was just a reserve player, but nowoh? The balls back to Johnson! But wait, Slytherins Chasers are closing insheMerlins tight pants!!! Lee Jordan practically leapt to his feet, pounding the table in excitement. Harry Potter! Its Harry Potter!! By Merlins blessed underpants, he just knocked Graham Montague clean off his broom!! Before the stunned crowd, a Slytherin player plummeted from the sky like a broken kite, crashing to the ground like bird droppings. Madam Hooch immediately descended to check on him. But instead of dimming the excitement, the atmosphere in the stadium exploded. Cheers grew even louder as fans chanted Harrys name, the rhythmic cries growing more unified until they reverberated across the pitch. I sure hope Montagues okayer, I mean, of course I hope hes fine, but before that, let me make one thing clear: that was NOT a foul! Even Madam Hooch didnt blow the whistle! Because Montague was knocked off by a Bludger! Lee Jordan shouted excitedly. What a move! Harry, that was brilliant!! Counterstrike Bludger! For those unfamiliar with Quidditch, let me explainthis move involves a backhand swing of the bat to strike the Bludger, sending it flying behind the Beater rather than forward. Its an incredibly difficult maneuver! Extremely difficult! Because when youre flying ahead, aiming at an opponent behind you is nearly impossiblebut Harry just did it! Brilliant play! Although Slytherin has lost a Beater, the game continues! Gryffindor seized the opportunity to score two goalsboth valid and counted! Lee Jordan exclaimed excitedly. Poor Montague! He was tailing Harry, clearly intending to knock him off his broom, but he had no idea he was disturbing a sleeping lionoh, wait, I should say, the Bull-King of Gryffindor! Oh? Madam Hooch is checking on him lets seefantastic! Montague is too injured to continue playing! Lee Jordan burst into laughter. I am delighted to announce that for the rest of this match, Slytherin will be playing with only six players!! JORDAN!!
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Chapter 65: Harrys Righteous Victory Over the Slytherin Team Professor McGonagall let out a low feline growl. As a commentator, Lee Jordan was supposed to remain fair and impartial, but to be honest, that was proving to be quite difficult. Even Professor McGonagall herself, no matter how hard she pressed her lips together, couldnt completely hide the excitement on her face. The Slytherin team was down to six players, while Gryffindor still had a full seven. Seven against six! The advantage was ours! The Quidditch Cup was within reach! "Alright, alright, I''m not that thrilled I mean, the match continues!" Lee Jordan''s words tumbled out at lightning speed. "It''s obvious that after Harry knocked Montague off his broom just now, he''s become the number one target for the entire Slytherin team. Look! Marcus Flint is charging straight at Harry! Hes speeding up!!" A collective gasp swept through the Gryffindor stands, making the already chilly November air feel even colder. "That''s a foul!!" Lee Jordan furiously swung his right fist through the air, as if he himself had just punched Flint in the face. "Slytherins captain, Marcus Flint, deliberately rammed into Harry! But luckily, Harrys reflexes are incredible textbook Sloth Grip Roll! Hes so agile, he doesnt even seem like a bull!" A wave of angry shouts erupted from the Gryffindor stands, while the Slytherin side responded with loud whistles. "Anyway, thank goodness Flints despicable and disgusting tactics didnt work" "Jordan!" "I mean, it was an attempted" "Jordan, Im warning you" "Alright, Professor, what I meant was that Harrys sheer skill helped him dodge a potentially lethal attack. Our Gryffin-Taur has been provoked! Hes suddenly accelerating! Look at that! Harry is speeding straight for the BludgerROLL!" Lee Jordan suddenly cursed, yanking the microphone just out of Professor McGonagalls reach as he roared: "THIS IS ATTEMPTED MURDER!!! Slytherin Beater Lucian Bole just swung his bat directly at Harrys head! He should pay for this!!" "Madam Hooch blows the whistle! Yes! Gryffindor gets a penalty, but honestly, thats nowhere near enough!!" Lee Jordan was simply voicing what every Gryffindor student was thinking. Their angry shouts blended together, and Dean Thomas was even demanding that Bole be given a red card and sent off. Unfortunately, Quidditch had no such thing as a red card. Even Harry himself was a little stunned. A bat swung right at someones head, clear as day. And yet, judging by the cheers from the Slytherin stands, this kind of play was perfectly acceptable to them. That whole "friendship first, competition second" motto? Completely fake. Slytherin had no interest in that nonsense. No matter who they were playing against, victory belonged to Slytherin and Slytherin alone. Winning ugly? Winning by any means necessary? Who cared? As far as Slytherin was concerned, the only thing worthy of respect was victory! "Gryffindor scores the penalty! Now Slytherin has possessionFlint takes the Quafflepasses to Alectopasses to BellAH-HA! Fred sends a Bludger their way! HIT! Wish it broke his nosejust kidding, ProfessorOH! HARRY SUDDENLY ACCELERATES! IS HE PUNCHING?! NO! ITS A TRANSYLVANIAN FAKE!!" "Bell is down! HAHAHA! He couldnt hold onto his broom! Hahahaha!!" Lee Jordan burst into laughter, clutching the microphone to his chest and turning away from Professor McGonagall to keep her from confiscating it. "Sorry, Professor! I feel really guilty right now, can you see my guilt? Ahahahahaha!!" He just couldnt hold it in. Following Montague, Bell plummeted like a broken kite. First, he took a Bludger from Fred square in the face. Then, as his vision blurred, he caught sight of Harrys fake-out, panicked, lost control of his broom, and tumbled off. "I was wrong! Professor McGonagall, please let me keep commentating! Its my life''s calling!" Clutching the microphone with all his strength, Lee Jordan wailed, "My grandma appeared in my dreams last night and told me I had to finish calling this match! I beg you!!" Maybe it was the dream message from his grandma, or maybe it was just because he was howling so pitifully, but in the end, after issuing one last serious warning, Professor McGonagall allowed him to keep the microphone. "Back to the game! We can see Madam Hooch has escorted Bell off the fieldgood riddance!" Lee Jordans voice was hoarse with excitement as he shouted, "I have serious reason to believe Harry has memorized an entire book of Quidditch tactics because that move was completely legal!" "For our first-year friends, let me explain! The Transylvanian Fake-Out first appeared in the 1473 World Cup. Its a feint where a player pretends to aim for the opponents nose while at high speedbut as long as they dont actually make contact, its not a foul!" "And honestly, when both players are moving that fast, actually hitting the opponents nose would be pretty difficult." Lee Jordan grinned. "Slytherin is now down to five players! My goodness, lets all congratulate Gryffindor on completely dominating the pitchSCORE UPDATE: Gryffindor leads 70 to 20!" The atmosphere in the stadium was beyond electric. Only the Slytherin stands remained eerily silent, while even the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff sections joined in the cheers. Part of it was because Slytherins dirty tactics had never been well-liked. After all, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had to play them too. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. But more importantly, this match was absolutely thrillingfar more exciting than any Quidditch game in recent years. So intense. So exhilarating. Marcus Flint''s face was turning an alarming shade of blue as he watched, helpless, while Harry delivered a powerful strike to a Bludgersending it rocketing straight into Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs skull. Poor Higgs didnt even make a sound before he dropped off his broom. And for Slytherin, that was the final nail in the coffin. As for the stands they had erupted into chaos. Students werent even sitting anymore. They were on their feet, shouting at the top of their lungs, wave after wave of deafening cheers. Lee Jordan laughed recklessly, smacking his own headon the bull horns attached to it. The next second, a deep, mixed roar of a bull and a lion blasted through the speakers, some kind of crazy sound effect Fred and George had rigged up. Now that was a true Gryffin-Taur. Slytherins defeat was inevitable. Their only chance of turning the game around had been the 150 points from catching the Snitch, but their Seeker had already been sent to the Hospital Wing. The rest of the game turned into a celebration for the other three Houses. The four remaining Slytherin players stood no chance against Gryffindors onslaught. Even George Weasley wasnt in a hurry to catch the Snitchhe was having too much fun watching his teammates score over and over, while Harry and Fred herded the remaining Slytherins around the field with Bludgers. And when George finally dove and caught the Snitch, sealing the win, the entire stadium erupted, the crowd roaring Harrys name. "...This is beyond what a student should be capable of!" Lee Jordan bellowed. "Harry should be representing Hogwarts in the professional leagues! Hed shake the entire wizarding world!!" Whether or not it would shock the world was uncertain, but one thing was for sureHarry returned to the Gryffindor common room as a hero. In fact, from the moment he dismounted his broom, his feet never even touched the groundhe was carried all the way by the cheering crowd. It seemed the other houses at Hogwarts had long endured Slytherin''s dominance, and after witnessing such a resounding victory against them, even students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff joined in, helping lift Harry along the way as they made their way back to the castle. Some of the fastest Gryffindor students had already rushed ahead, waiting in the common room, where they had even used magic to decorate the entire space in a brilliant mix of gold and red. The moment Harry was carried through the entrance, he looked uponly to see, right in the center of the Gryffindor common room, a massive bedsheet. Uh Whose bedsheet was this? No one knew. But on that white sheet, an enchanted looping image played over and overHarry executing a Transylvanian Tackle against Slytherins Chaser, Bell, causing Bell to tumble off his broom. The final frames even included a shot of Harry smirking as he watched Bell fall, casually twirling his bat in a little flourish. Honestly, if he hadn''t seen this replay himself, Harry might have been able to brush it off. But seeing it loop infinitely in the Gryffindor common room? Now that was downright embarrassingespecially with the whole room erupting in cheers that sounded suspiciously like a chorus of mooing, with the occasional twin-enhanced blend of lion roars and bull bellows mixed in. As for Harry Well, he had long since given up trying to rein in Rons two audacious brothers. Let them do whatever they wanted. Besides, after today, Harry doubted he could stop these enthusiastic Gryffindors even if he tried. Fine, let them moo all they wanted. At this point, everyone was a tauren. It was all in good fun. For Gryffindor students, today was undoubtedly a day for celebration. It wasnt long before Fred and George arrived, guiding two floating barrels of Butterbeer into the common room with their wandsso thats where they had disappeared to! Turns out, those two had snuck off to Hogsmeade through a secret passage. Some students had even gone down to the Hogwarts kitchens, persuading the house-elves to part with an impressive spread of foodthere was roasted meat, fine drinks, and an atmosphere so lively that one had to shout just to be heard by the person next to them. Harry! Say a few words! Come on, Harry! Freds voice rang out as he dangled from the chandelier. Our mighty Lion-Bull King! It has to be you! At last, the rowdy common room quieted down as Harry was hoisted onto a tablenot that he had much choice in the matter. He glanced around the room. And nearly lost his composure. Because standing at the entrance of the common room, holding a cup of Butterbeer, was Professor McGonagall. The elderly professor was watching him with a subtle yet unmistakable smile. Ill keep it simple, Harry finally said after a brief pause. This years Quidditch Cup is ours. And right nowdrink up, Gryffindor warriors! OH!!! The roar that followed was so thunderous it practically shook the entire Gryffindor tower. Raising his own drink in Professor McGonagalls direction, Harry figured he had done a pretty decent job with his speech. A glorious victory. McGonagall, for her part, made no move to curb the students excitement. Instead, she gave Harry a slight nod, then turned and left the common room. And the moment she stepped out, the students completely let loose. Some older students even dragged out a small oak barrel from the dormitories, insisting that Harry try a drink called Cluckling Firewhiskey, imported straight from America. This particular drink was considered the lifeblood of American wizardsso much so that not even Prohibition had managed to outlaw it. It was not only incredibly strong but also had the peculiar effect of making the drinker burst into uncontrollable, booming laughter after swallowing. Truth be told, Harry rather liked how unique wizarding food and drinks were. From the end of the match until nightfall, Harry never had a single moment to himself. There was always someone wanting to shake his hand, congratulate him, or simply chat. Lee Jordans post-match commentary had ignited a wildfire among the students. They surrounded Harry, praising his superb flying skills and impeccable accuracy as a Beater. Of course, there was also plenty of Slytherin-bashing, but more than anything, they encouraged him to try out for a professional Quidditch clubspecifically for the League Cup, the official Quidditch League tournament. And who knew? In four years, he might even represent England in the Quidditch World Cup. Ah, the boundless optimism of youth. Then again, it wasnt entirely far-fetched. After all, one of the most famous names among Quidditch fansViktor Krumhad been scouted for the Bulgarian national team while still a student at Durmstrang, Hogwarts European rival school. And rumor had it, he would be playing in the next World Cup. While a World Cup appearance was still far off, the students unanimously agreed on one thing: Harry should definitely join a professional Quidditch club. Where they disagreed, however, was which club he should join. The Kenmare Kestrels, Harry! You have to join the Kestrels! Seamus Finnigan practically yelled in excitement. Theyre our own Irish team! Darren OHare has been Irelands national team captain three times, and he invented the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, which every Chaser uses nowadays! It was obvious Seamus was a die-hard Kestrels fan. Ron, however, was not. Oh, give me a break, Seamus! Harry has to join the Chudley Cannons! Ron finally forced his way through the crowd, shouting, No team has a more glorious history! Theyve won the League Cup twenty-one times! Hah? And the last time was in 1892? Seamus was quick to retort. When it came to his favorite team, he wasnt about to back down. The Chudley Cannons are dead, Ron! Theyve been dead for nearly a century! Their time is over! Ron instantly turned red with indignation, but the truth was, the Cannons record over the past hundred years was dismal. So much so that they had even changed their official team slogan from We shall conquer all to Lets all keep our fingers crossed and stay optimistic. Honestly, even Harry had to admitthat was just sad. It sounded less like a battle cry and more like a desperate attempt to keep their spirits up. --- you can read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon .com/windkaze