Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World
Chapter 456: Breaking Through the Heart

Chapter 456: Breaking Through the Heart

Ge’els had never actually intended to serve them tea.

It was simply a tactic in a battle of minds.

But they seemed a bit naive...

Once everyone was seated, Ge’els joined them. "To what do I owe the honor of such a dramatic visit?"

Harry, watching Dumbledore pour him a cup of tea, said softly, "Two things. First: the current Eredin is no longer the real Eredin. He’s an impostor—a man named Voldemort."

Ge’els stared at him. "Since you’ve come all this way, I’m sure you’ve crafted plenty of convincing ’evidence’ for this lie."

"As an Aen Elle elf, I cannot affront my king without indisputable, reliable proof."

Elves always had a way of speaking that sounded overly formal and convoluted.

But everyone present was clever. They understood what he truly meant.

He wasn’t rejecting Harry’s claim outright. He just wanted more convincing evidence than mere words.

Snape sneered, "You could make your point more directly, rather than twisting your tongue into knots."

Ge’els glanced at him.

The man—gaunt as a skeleton—had already raised his wand.

Sectumsempra.

The invisible blade hissed past Ge’els’ ear, slicing off several strands of hair. They floated, not falling, and flew into Snape’s hand.

The curse didn’t stop there—it slammed into the wall behind Ge’els, gouging a deep groove into the stone.

Ge’els remained calm, unaffected, as if that deadly curse had never nearly brushed his neck.

He watched Snape, full of curiosity, as the professor worked.

Snape took out a vial of potion and dropped Ge’els’ hair into it.

Bubbling. Thick liquid swirled, turning shimmering silver with starlike specks.

Without hesitation, Snape drank the potion.

It tasted cool and minty, slightly sweet but not cloying, warming him like hot chocolate.

His features twisted.

Before Ge’els’ eyes, Snape transformed into his exact likeness.

"What is this?" Ge’els studied him closely.

It was flawless. His appearance, his posture—even the subtle, easily missed traits that only he or those closest to him would recognize. Even the freshly cut strands of hair had been perfectly replicated.

Perhaps...

Transfiguration magic could achieve this.

But not by someone who’d never interacted with him, only glimpsed him once.

Snape, now with Ge’els’ appearance and voice, said, "Polyjuice Potion. One of our potions. With only a trace of physical material, we can perfectly take on someone’s form."

Ge’els couldn’t hide his astonishment.

Unheard of.

So simple—yet so precise.

"Didn’t Eredin tell you about these things?" Harry asked quietly. "He took two master wandmakers and stole many books. Even if Polyjuice Potion is rare, surely it was mentioned."

According to the Ministry’s regulations,

Polyjuice Potion was a "controlled" substance—not even classified as "banned." Its danger level was even lower than Veritaserum.

Two masters? Books?

Ge’els frowned slightly, but quickly composed his face.

Such microexpressions might fool Dumbledore or Snape—but not the witchers.

"You didn’t know?" Harry’s tone carried a trace of surprise. "He never mentioned any of this?"

Ge’els raised his cup to hide his emotions. "As I’ve heard, witchers possess frightening powers of observation."

"How much do you know about our world?" Harry pressed.

"Very little," Ge’els answered.

"Eredin told me he knew little too—only that it was a new world and might hold a power to stop the White Frost aside from Elder Blood."

"Is that all?" Harry asked.

Ge’els nodded in silence.

Harry leaned forward slightly. "Did he also mention he’s allied with others?"

"He did," Ge’els replied.

Harry thought aloud: "But he didn’t tell you he sent knights to invade our world?"

Ge’els stiffened. He hadn’t heard that.

Though he managed logistics for the Wild Hunt, Eredin was still king—and had full authority.

"And he never told you we’ve already captured Caranthir?" Harry added.

A bolt of thunder cracked in Ge’els’ heart.

"Caranthir?" he repeated, visibly shaken.

Harry tapped his hat.

Out flew a figure that landed and expanded—Caranthir, dazed and hollow-eyed.

Snape casually cast the Imperius Curse.

Ge’els’ expression darkened.

Harry kept going. "Nor did he tell you he sacrificed Imlerith to test and confirm I’d stay in the witchers’ world for a day?"

"Imlerith is dead?" Ge’els blurted out. His composure collapsed.

Harry nodded. "I didn’t keep the body. It was useless. And the hat gets mad if I put strange things in it. It’s told me that many times."

Ge’els stared at Caranthir.

He desperately wished this golden child was a wizard in disguise.

But...

Everything—their claims, the supporting facts—pointed to the truth.

It had been a long time since he’d heard from Caranthir.

He’d asked once—Eredin deflected, saying Caranthir had another important mission.

Same with Imlerith.

He’d heard the general had been sent on a task two days ago—and nothing since.

"But this potion replicates only a person’s body, not their soul or memories, right?" Ge’els asked, grasping at straws.

Snape, using Ge’els’ own face and voice, mocked him, "Wizards have many ways to extract memories."

"All of us here can do it."

He walked to Caranthir and locked eyes with him, using Legilimency to rip through his mind.

As Snape recited memory after memory,

Ge’els’ face grew paler with each word.

Proof that not only the body could be copied—but also memory, even soul.

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Powerstones?

For 20 advance Chapters: /michaeltranslates