Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

Sirius said nothing, letting out a cold snort as he focused on massaging Crookshanks.

Fudge forced an awkward smile. "If it's possible, Mr. Black, could you come with us to the Ministry?"

Sirius looked up, his gaze sharp.

"I believe Mr. Black would benefit from staying in a more suitable environment," Dumbledore interjected. "He will remain at Hogwarts, and I will personally keep an eye on him."

Fudge swallowed hard, not daring to push further. Instead, he turned to Harry. "And you, Mr. Potter? Since you acted in self-defense to kill Peter, I think we still need..."

Scrimgeour was frantically signaling Fudge with his eyes.

Fudge either didn't notice or couldn't understand.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Dumbledore said firmly, shaking his head. "Tonight, Mr. Potter has detention with Professor Sprout."

"Then tomorrow?" Fudge persisted, unwilling to leave empty-handed with only a corpse and a vial of memories.

"Actually," Dumbledore began, "Mr. Potter has been far from well-behaved this term. Out of seven days a week, he spends two in Quidditch practice, and the remaining five under detention with various professors."

Sirius looked at Harry in disbelief.

Wow... how does he manage that?

But this felt right. James's son should surpass his father, even in this.

Fudge was equally stunned. He'd never heard of a student spending five days a week in detention. Stammering, he nodded stiffly. "Well, then, I suppose the Ministry shouldn't disturb such a busy young wizard."

"Professor Dumbledore, I'll return to investigate further."

He hurriedly left, signaling for Scrimgeour to take the evidence.

After they were gone, Harry spoke up. "Thank you."

Sirius was momentarily confused. Why the gratitude? Dumbledore hadn't even exerted himself to convince Fudge.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Sirius was once my student," he said, pausing. "And unlike you, Harry, I haven't secretly lived through so much. I'm not yet ready to fully trust him."

Sirius turned his head away.

Dumbledore's expression grew serious. "Harry, don't let anger consume your mind—"

"Professor," Harry interrupted, raising a wand.

Dumbledore froze, noticing that this wasn't Harry's usual wand.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry intoned, conjuring his newly transformed Patronus—a majestic griffin.

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Alright, it seems I should say no more. You're mature and understand what you're doing—and what you should be doing."

"Go rest. Have a good sleep."

"I'll speak to Professor Sprout. You deserve a small reprieve tonight."

As they prepared to leave, Dumbledore added with a chuckle, "Oh, Mr. Potter, don't forget to return Miss Granger's wand."

It was only then that they realized Harry and Hermione were still holding each other's wands.

Later that evening, Sirius and Lupin returned to Sirius's temporary office. Sirius planned to bathe—for the first time in thirteen years—and enjoy a proper meal. Even Peter had eaten better than he had, surviving on Hedwig's owl treats while Sirius had endured moldy scraps.

Sirius had much he wanted to say to Harry.

But Harry didn't disturb him that night. After thirteen years of tension, Sirius needed a proper rest, even if he didn't realize it himself.

The next day, Sirius woke around noon. The long sleep had left his mind foggy, and he groggily noticed two figures by his bedside. Yawning, he greeted them.

"Morning, James, Remus—you're up so..."

He trailed off, finally registering that one figure was indeed Lupin, but the other couldn't possibly be James.

"Oh, I mean Harry. Good morning." Sirius stammered, hastily correcting himself. "You really do look just like your dad—except for your eyes. Your eyes look more like Lily's."

He paused mid-sentence, suddenly awake. His tone turned to disbelief. "But your eyes—they're different. When I saw you as a baby, they were green, like Lily's. What happened?"

Harry paused, surprised. "I thought it was because of my eyes that you doubted I was really Harry. You hadn't noticed until now?"

Sirius sat back, a hint of worry in his expression. "What happened? Was it magical alteration?"

"Dumbledore said it might be a Potter family trait," Harry replied, deflecting the question. "I haven't found any answers myself."

Sirius pondered this. "Perhaps... the Potters are an ancient family. They're even distantly related to the Peverells. Maybe some of that lineage caused the change?"

"Peverells?" Harry asked.

Sirius patiently explained. "The Peverells are a very old family, rumored to have once dealt with Death itself. Perhaps that's why your eyes changed."

"But you know, it suits you. It makes you look even more like James!" Sirius added enthusiastically. "And having a griffin Patronus in Gryffindor, with lion-like eyes? That's pretty cool."

Harry and Lupin both froze.

"Lions don't have slit pupils," Lupin deadpanned, conjuring a glass of water and levitating it to Sirius.

"Don't they?" Sirius frowned. "Aren't they just big cats?"

Harry quipped, "I could ask Hermione to send you a Christmas gift."

"Your little girlfriend? That would be lovely." Sirius grinned teasingly. "I haven't received a Christmas present in thirteen years."

He didn't realize the implication of his own words.

Harry waved dismissively. "There's something I've been meaning to ask."

Both Sirius and Lupin straightened, their expressions turning serious.

"Did Snape have anything to do with my mother's death?" Harry asked, his voice steady. He had been holding this question back, waiting for the right time.

Sirius hesitated.

"Snape's a vile, despicable, evil man," Sirius began, shaking his head. "He's sneaky, underhanded, and capable of anything!"

Lupin coughed pointedly, interrupting Sirius's tirade.

Sirius paused, then reluctantly admitted, "But no... I don't think he would've harmed Lily."

"Snape and James were rivals," Lupin explained delicately.

Sirius scoffed. "They weren't rivals! For that, Snape would've needed a chance! He never even came close."

"That slimy git thought he was clever, but he never stood a chance—not after he called her—"

Lupin coughed again, more forcefully.

"What did he call her?" Harry prompted.

Sirius reluctantly answered, "The worst word—'Mudblood.'"

Harry processed this, then asked, "So... you bullied Snape during school?"

Sirius looked alarmed and glanced at Lupin for help.

Lupin sighed, knowing Harry's knack for piecing together truths from fragments.

"Harry, not all young wizards are as mature as you," Lupin said cautiously. "Your father wasn't as... responsible. He played pranks—mostly on Snape."

"Because of my mother?" Harry asked.

"In part," Lupin admitted. "But also because most Slytherins were aligned with the Death Eaters."

"But by sixth or seventh year, James matured, and Lily chose to be with him."

"And after that, he stopped bothering Snape?" Harry pressed.

Lupin's expression stiffened.

"Snape was... an exception," he said carefully. "But Lily wouldn't have known about that."

Harry's face remained neutral, but his voice was cold. "So my father didn't just bully Snape—he targeted others as well?"

Lupin froze, unsure how to answer.

"Just harmless pranks!" Sirius interjected lightly. "Like you—just some harmless fun."

Lupin buried his face in his hands, wishing he could silence Sirius.

"I don't prank people," Harry said flatly.

Sirius blinked. "Then how do you end up in detention five days a week?"

"Those are lessons," Harry explained. "The professors just disguise them as detentions so their favoritism isn't too obvious."

Sirius's expression twisted in disbelief. "So... you really don't prank people?"

"Never," Harry confirmed.

Lupin sighed, muttering, "Sirius, Harry's personality is far more like Lily's—and so is his intellect."

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Powerstones?

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