Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

Magic surged, and flames engulfed Harry and Dumbledore.

Pop!

They vanished from the office.

The next moment, they reappeared in a clearing southwest of the Black Lake, near the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts Castle loomed faintly in the distance. To reach this spot, one would need to traverse half the lake and pass by Hagrid's hut—a place few students ever ventured to.

Fawkes landed on Harry's head, letting out a few cries.

The Sorting Hat translated, "She says she wants Hedwig's owl treats as payment."

"Then you'd better go find Hedwig," Harry replied, raising a hand to stroke her head.

Fawkes immediately flew off.

"I rarely see Fawkes like this," Dumbledore said, surprised. "She doesn't even like cockroach clusters."

Harry gave him an odd look. "Professor, are you serious? Of course Fawkes doesn't like those—neither does Crookshanks."

"But cockroach clusters are Honeydukes' best-selling product," Dumbledore argued.

"In Gryffindor, Lee Jordan buys the most of them," Harry countered. "And he's said more than once that they belong in Zonko's Joke Shop, not a candy store."

Dumbledore looked unconvinced. "Jordan? The prankster only second to the Weasley twins? His word can't be trusted; he thrives on tricks and deception."

"I don't want to discuss cockroach clusters," Harry said flatly, sensing Dumbledore's demeanor shifting into something alarmingly similar to Ron's when talking about brooms. Shaking his head, he interrupted the conversation's trajectory. "Let's start today's lesson."

Dumbledore paused, visibly holding back further comments. After a moment, he nodded, his voice soft. "Alright, let's begin."

This lesson was part of a second agreement Harry had made with Dumbledore: learning to channel magic that wasn't inherently his.

With a graceful flick of his wand, Dumbledore caused the waters of the Black Lake to churn. Waves surged dramatically, rising high before crashing down like a waterfall.

A startled merperson briefly surfaced, its panic evident. It seemed to be wondering, What's happening? I just came up for some air!

"Aguamenti," Harry murmured the spell that Dumbledore had not spoken aloud.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "Correct. That's the spell. But it was cast using a small adjustment to the usual technique."

"Magic is everywhere," Dumbledore began.

He paused, then made a sweeping gesture with his wand.

Water, fire, earth, and wind began to swirl around them in perfect harmony.

"Anything you want can contain magic."

"And if you don't want it to, it doesn't have to."

With those words, the elemental forces vanished as if they had been mere illusions. The wind stilled, the earth resettled, and water and fire merged without producing a wisp of steam.

"Like the Patronus Charm? As long as I want it, it can manifest?" Harry asked hesitantly, feeling a lump in his throat.

Dumbledore nodded. "Precisely."

Harry glanced down at his wand. "But Snape… Professor Snape still relies on potions."

"The principle is the same," Dumbledore patiently explained. "The magic in potions also stems from belief."

Harry frowned slightly, finding it difficult to grasp.

Magic... is just a matter of wanting it to work? Because I wish it, it becomes reality?

"You've already succeeded, haven't you?" Dumbledore prompted gently.

Harry blinked in confusion, looking up at him.

Dumbledore mimicked Harry's characteristic hand gestures, though the imitation was clumsy. "Your hand-sign magic."

Harry froze, raising his hands to form a sign.

Igni!

A jet of fire shot forth, striking the lake's surface and creating a cloud of steam.

"Exactly that," Dumbledore said with a nod. "The power you wielded before you ever formally studied magic."

Harry stared at his hands, deep in thought.

After a while, he tried to wave his wand, willing himself to believe he could harness magic.

But nothing extraordinary happened.

A modest jet of water spouted from the wand's tip—far from the grand spectacle Dumbledore had demonstrated.

"You must genuinely desire to bring about change," Dumbledore said with a smile, shaking his head.

Harry closed his eyes, attempting to reset his mindset and recapture the feeling he had when casting the Patronus Charm.

Dumbledore continued, "This technique isn't quite like the Patronus. There's a spell that can help you grasp the concept."

Harry looked at him with curiosity.

"Weather spells," Dumbledore explained, raising his wand. "A series of incantations capable of altering the weather."

He waved his wand lightly.

"Call the wind!"

A gentle breeze swept in—not conjured directly by the wand, but seemingly summoned naturally from the north.

"Summon rain!"

With another flick of the wand, rain began to fall. On the far side of the Black Lake, cries of surprise rang out as raindrops rapidly turned to ice.

"Bring the thunder!"

Dark clouds rolled in, and a massive lightning bolt split the night sky, illuminating the surroundings before vanishing as quickly as it had come.

"Let it snow."

For the final spell, the rain transformed into a flurry of snowflakes, descending gently.

Harry watched in awe.

Wind, rain, lightning, snow—all seemingly natural phenomena. There was no trace of magic in the weather itself; only during the spell's release did Harry sense a modest flow of magical energy from Dumbledore.

"This spell isn't difficult," Dumbledore said, breaking the sequence into individual incantations and explaining them to Harry. "But it's even harder to master than the Patronus Charm."

"Many lack the conviction and willpower to confront the forces of nature. They falter."

With a final flick of his wand, Dumbledore dispelled the effects. The wind stilled, the snow stopped, and the skies cleared.

Harry raised his wand.

Mimicking Dumbledore, he uttered the incantation, "Call the wind!"

Magic surged.

With a soft whoosh, a gust of air puffed into Dumbledore's face, ruffling his beard and hair.

Dumbledore froze.

"Sorry," Harry said, his face blank. "That wasn't intentional."

Dumbledore calmly cast a cleaning charm on himself. "Harry, it might be better if you didn't apologize."

Harry continued practicing.

Though the weather spells proved less challenging than the Patronus Charm, he couldn't yet achieve Dumbledore's mastery. Harry could only affect small areas, spanning from Ravenclaw Tower to a few steps deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

The wind lacked strength, the rain and snow were hesitant, and the thunderclouds only responded once.

Still, Harry could feel the dormant magic surrounding him, waiting to be commanded.

By moonrise, a house-elf appeared with a pop, quietly reminding them, "Professor Dumbledore, it's past curfew."

"It seems we must rest," Dumbledore said, waving his wand to dispel the weather.

"How about another two hours of practice?" Harry suggested tentatively.

"I have to visit the Ministry tomorrow," Dumbledore declined swiftly. "Spare this old man, Harry. Even in my youth, I wasn't as energetic as you."

Harry sighed.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore called softly into the night.

There was no response.

Dumbledore looked disappointed. "It seems we'll have to walk back."

Harry stared pointedly at the house-elf. "If you want me to walk, just say so. No need for pretense."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, waving his wand to transform a nearby tree into a small boat. "All aboard."

"Let me relive the old days."

The boat carried them silently across the lake.

"Harry, what are your plans for the future?" Dumbledore asked.

"Figuring out the connection between Snape and my mother," Harry answered without hesitation.

Dumbledore stiffened, turning away awkwardly.

"So, you know," Harry said, his tone calm. "I asked my uncle and godfather recently—they didn't know."

Dumbledore remained silent.

"Does it relate to why he betrayed Voldemort?" Harry asked, shifting to a less sensitive question.

The faint sound of wind answered him.

"And it also involves my mother's death," Harry pressed.

Dumbledore finally turned to him. "I'm sorry, Harry. It's an agreement between me and Severus. I can't reveal anything."

"But trust me—Severus would never—"

Harry met Dumbledore's gaze. "I can trust him completely, but my parents' deaths can't remain a mystery."

Dumbledore sighed. "Don't try Legilimency on me."

"Would it work?" Harry shrugged.

"One day, Severus will tell you himself," Dumbledore said, looking away. "But for now, Harry, consider slowing down. You're only thirteen, yet you live as if you're carrying the weight of the world."

Harry looked at the thick snow by the lake's edge. "Voldemort is coming back."

"And I'm still here," Dumbledore said firmly. "I can hold him off for a few more years."

"Having him alive is my greatest torment," Harry muttered, transfiguring a fish into a cat and absentmindedly stroking it.

"What about long-term goals?" Dumbledore asked. "You're brilliant and perceptive—ever consider joining the Ministry? Percy Weasley dreams of becoming Minister for Magic. You're far more capable."

Harry smiled suddenly. "Dumbledore, are you afraid I'll become like Tom?"

Dumbledore hesitated, transfiguring a fish into a bird. "You're as perceptive as ever. I'll admit, it does concern me."

"Anger can destroy a person."

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Powerstones?

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