Hogwarts: Harry Potter’s Return from the Witcher World
Chapter 458: Smoke and Powder

Chapter 458: Smoke and Powder

Was he worried?

Not really.

Voldemort was now immensely powerful—his body forged from elemental essence, with near-invincible defense, brimming with seemingly infinite magic, and most crucially, infused with the power of the White Frost—apocalypse itself. When he first returned, there had been some unfamiliarity, but he had long since overcome that.

Against those two, Voldemort believed he would win.

But...

Winning wasn’t enough.

Voldemort wanted to win beautifully—to kill them with overwhelming superiority, like a higher being crushing lesser creatures. That would be the true signal of his return.

He stared at his hand, lost in thought.

The finger he had thrown to Crouch had already regrown. As an elemental construct, he no longer cared about physical damage.

He turned his gaze to the three wandmakers on the ground.

Outside Eredin’s bedchamber.

Harry and the others stopped and sat in the clearing before the door.

Dumbledore watched Harry and Geralt as they prepared for battle.

A magically expanded, undetectable pocket was a blessing for witchers.

Before this, they had to calculate weight and space to determine what to carry.

Now?

They packed whatever was useful—grindstones, armor maintenance tools, all within easy reach.

They removed their armor, applied oils, repaired battle damage, and sharpened their swords.

Harry retrieved ingredients he had gathered in Novigrad.

With a snap, a campfire ignited, and a small cauldron flew out from his pocket, suspended above the flames.

Harry looked at Geralt. "You were there that day—what oil should we use?"

"I don’t know your magic," Geralt shrugged. "Besides, I was too far away."

Dumbledore tugged his beard. "He said he was the White Frost itself."

"Elemental?" Harry nodded, thinking aloud. "That makes him a construct."

He tossed dog tallow and puffball into the pot—a light aroma began to rise.

"Smells nice," Dumbledore sniffed. "Like fried mushrooms."

Nobody responded.

He conjured a mug of honey water for himself.

The basic construct oil was easy to make. Once cooled by magic, it solidified into a pale blue balm.

But basic oil wasn’t enough.

Harry began making enhanced construct oil—with bear fat, moleyarrow, puffball, allspice, honeysuckle, and buckthorn. Easy enough for a seasoned witcher like him.

Its hue was a purer, richer blue.

That one would help.

He didn’t try to brew the superior version—he lacked the "Specter Essence" from wraiths.

The cauldron stayed out.

Even though Voldemort might not fully be human anymore, preparing a human-specific oil seemed wise.

Necrophage’s Bane—he had brewed it in first year using ingredients "borrowed" from Hagrid’s shed.

But enhanced potions needed ghoul eyes.

He kept brewing.

Once both oils were done and cooling, the cauldron remained active.

Harry began brewing decoctions with mutagens collected from foglets—combined with dwarven spirit, parsley, and dandelion from Novigrad.

"Not exactly foggy weather," Geralt chuckled.

Foglet decoctions worked wonders—enhancing signs to near-Harry levels. But...

Every strong decoction had strict conditions.

Foglet decoctions only worked in cloudy weather.

"I decide the weather," Harry said softly.

Geralt chuckled enviously. Manipulating weather and terrain—that was a rare gift.

Decoctions took longer to make.

Geralt carefully applied construct oil and Necrophage’s Bane to their swords.

The foglet decoction—only enough for one—was given to Geralt.

Harry also handed Yennefer a set of potions brewed by Snape: calming draught, soothing elixir, wit-enhancer.

Ava’lak’h looked on, hopeful—but Harry ignored him.

"Our potions are nearly non-toxic," Harry warned. "Yennefer, just don’t chug them like water."

"And Geralt—"

"You can drink them like water."

A direct note to the White Wolf. Every witcher calculated potion doses carefully—too much, and they’d poison themselves before the fight was over.

Smart witchers survived. The others didn’t.

Geralt strapped them on and nodded. "Understood, Harry."

"Then let’s pay Voldemort a visit," Harry said to Dumbledore. "Anything we need to prepare?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

Wizards weren’t like witchers. No need for so much prep.

Harry ended the Disillusionment Charm.

Dumbledore dispelled his scent- and sound-shielding magic.

Residual smells drifted into the air, immediately alerting nearby guards.

Heavy footsteps approached.

Harry raised his wand and flicked it toward the sky.

Meteorological Charm!

The world darkened—thick clouds surged in. The potion in Geralt’s hand glowed faintly—he drank it without hesitation. Decoctions lasted longer than witcher potions.

CRACK—

Lightning flashed. Rain poured.

Winds howled and tore at Eredin’s palace, bursting open windows, ripping down ornaments.

This chaos caught Voldemort’s attention inside the building.

He flew through the gap and spotted them below.

"Dumbledore. Potter," he said, sounding surprised. "You came here on your own?"

There was even a hint of delight in his voice.

This was the Aen Elle elves’ world. Here, he had far greater advantages than in the wizarding world.

Dumbledore flicked his wand.

A breeze swept past—his Polyjuice disguise dissolved instantly.

----------

Powerstones?

For 20 advance Chapters: /michaeltranslates

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.