Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World

Unable to persuade Harry to change his mind, Professor McGonagall reluctantly relented, especially with Godric Gryffindor himself backing Harry's decisions. However, she did make a last-minute adjustment by pulling Hermione forward to stand beside him.

Since the start of the term, Hermione had changed noticeably. Subtle adjustments to her hair and teeth had transformed her appearance, making her look far more striking. Many students from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were smitten and had even mustered the courage to pursue her.

Unfortunately for them, Crookshanks proved to be a formidable barrier. Though part-cat, part-Kneazle, and thoroughly protective, he was classified as a "XXX"-level dangerous magical creature.

The few who managed to get past Crookshanks met an even greater obstacle: Hermione's wand and her formidable spellwork.

Her newfound beauty and charm complemented her intelligence and strength, making her an ideal partner to offset the commanding and intense aura Harry exuded.

Snape, on the other hand, took a more dismissive approach. He selected two of his more presentable students as Slytherin's representatives, fully aware that even his best students couldn't hold a candle to Harry—or even Cedric.

The students filed out of the Great Hall in orderly lines and stood outside the castle in neat rows. The crisp autumn air carried a biting chill as night descended, and a half-moon glimmered faintly above the treetops.

Ron peered out from behind Harry and grabbed his arm to check the time. "It's six o'clock. How do you think they'll get here? By the Hogwarts Express?"

"Unlikely," Hermione said, shaking her head. "If that were the case, we'd have gone to the train station to meet them."

"Apparition or a Portkey, maybe?" Ron guessed.

Harry shook his head. "Hogwarts is protected by magic. Apparition and Portkeys don't work here—at least not for humans."

Ron frowned thoughtfully. "They wouldn't come on broomsticks, would they? That seems like something Krum might do."

"It would look cool," Harry replied. "But they'd freeze halfway here."

Suddenly, Harry looked skyward. "They're here."

At the same time, Dumbledore raised his voice. "If I'm not mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons has arrived!"

Excited chatter erupted among the students as they craned their necks to look into the distance.

Those standing near Harry followed his gaze and spotted something immense approaching from the sky.

"Is that a dragon?" a young Gryffindor squealed in excitement.

Ron clung to Harry's robes, his eyes wide.

"No, it's Abraxan horses pulling a carriage," Harry explained.

Ron's excitement deflated. "Not a dragon? That's disappointing."

"Abraxan winged horses are impressive," Harry added, shaking his head. "But they're not as cool as a motorcycle."

The colossal carriage descended heavily, sending up a plume of dust and causing the nearby Hufflepuffs to jump in alarm, their neat rows nearly breaking apart.

As the carriage settled, a large door painted with two crossed wands, each emitting three glowing stars, swung open.

A Beauxbatons boy stepped out, his light-blue robes fluttering. With a wave of his wand, a shimmering golden staircase unfurled from the carriage.

The crowd collectively gasped when a woman taller and broader than Hagrid emerged, her imposing figure cutting an unforgettable silhouette against the twilight.

Harry's expression remained impassive as he watched.

So, apparently, such massive physiques are considered normal for humans—just rare.

Following her, a dozen or so students descended the golden staircase.

Dumbledore greeted her warmly. "It's been far too long, Madame Maxime. Welcome to Hogwarts."

The students, however, were far more interested in a silver-haired Beauxbatons girl who stepped delicately out of the carriage, holding the hand of a younger girl who looked like a miniature version of her.

"Harry, look at her," Ron whispered, tugging at Harry's sleeve and pointing discreetly. "She's gorgeous."

Hermione glanced at the girl, then shot Ron a sharp glare before nervously glancing at Harry.

Harry calmly batted Ron's hand away. "Don't bother. She's not fully human."

Ron blinked. "What do you mean?"

"She's part Veela," Harry explained. "She has an avian scent."

Hermione stifled a laugh, her expression neutral but her shoulders trembling slightly.

Ron clenched his fists, taking a deep breath as though wrestling with an internal dilemma. "Even if she's part Veela, she's still stunning."

Hermione rolled her eyes, her disdain palpable. Men.

Why couldn't Ron learn from Harry?

Meanwhile, the Beauxbatons students were also stealing glances at Harry. News of his exploits at the Quidditch World Cup had reached even France—how he had fended off dozens of Dark wizards singlehandedly and captured two Death Eater leaders.

Their scrutiny was brief, though, as Madame Maxime led her students into the castle.

The Hogwarts students turned their attention to the next visitors.

"How do you think Durmstrang will arrive?" Ron mused aloud. "On Abraxans? Or maybe Thestrals or other winged creatures?"

"They're here," Harry said again, this time looking toward the Black Lake.

The students followed his gaze, staring at the still surface of the lake.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then a noise, like a toilet flushing, echoed across the water. The lake began to churn as massive waves formed a whirlpool in the center.

A mast emerged first, followed by billowing sails. A large, eerie ship surfaced, dripping with seawater, its weathered wood creaking ominously.

Fred stared in awe. "We had no idea the Black Lake could hold something like that."

George nodded solemnly. "Think of all the treasure we've missed out on."

Harry smirked. "It's not from the Black Lake. It smells like the sea. Sirius told me he explored the lake as a student. There's no treasure—only merpeople."

Fred sighed. "Sirius is a legend."

George agreed. "We should consult him during the holidays. There's so much about Hogwarts we haven't discovered."

"Too bad we're in our sixth year," Fred lamented. "Only a year and a half left."

"One and a half years is plenty of time," George corrected. "We should start planning now."

The Durmstrang students descended from the ship, their fur cloaks billowing as they strode forward. Their leader was tall and thin, his frame swathed in a polar bear pelt that did little to make him appear robust.

"Dumbledore, my dear old friend!" the man called out enthusiastically. "It's been too long."

"Igor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied coolly.

As Karkaroff approached, his sharp gaze swept over the Hogwarts students, lingering briefly on Harry. However, he made no mention of him in his conversation with Dumbledore.

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang entered the Great Hall with the Hogwarts students.

Ron was beside himself with excitement.

"Harry, that's Viktor Krum! He's really here!"

"Calm down," Hermione said, her tone clipped. "He's just another student."

"Just a student?" Ron gasped. "He's the best Seeker in the world!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "He's not better than Harry."

Ron hesitated. "Well... he's one of the best."

Hermione smirked. "And likely Harry's competition. Are you really going to ask for an autograph from Harry's rival?"

Ron froze, staring at Harry, then at Krum.

She's right. Krum might be Harry's opponent.

Harry, sensing his friend's turmoil, handed Ron a quill and a miniature Golden Snitch figurine. "Go ahead and ask. It's just a signature."

Ron wavered, then shook his head. "No. I'll wait until after the Tournament—when you've won. Then I'll ask him."

Harry laughed softly and put the items away.

As the students sat for dinner, Fleur Delacour, the silver-haired Beauxbatons girl, approached Ron and lightly tapped his shoulder.

"Excusez-moi, may I sit here?" she asked sweetly.

Ron turned, his mouth agape as he stared into her dazzling blue eyes. "Of course, miss... whatever you want."

Harry grabbed Ron's sleeve and turned to face Fleur.

His piercing, cat-like gaze met hers, sharp as a blade.

Fleur recoiled, stumbling back into a nearby Ravenclaw boy, who looked utterly smitten.

Harry's tone was calm but firm. "Using Veela magic on students from a rival school—isn't that a bit much?"

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Powerstones?

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