Hogwarts: Harry Potter's Return from the Witcher World-Chapter 401: Uncle

It often takes many reasons to like someone.

You need to find some excellent quality in them, something that shines above all else.

But to dislike someone is much simpler.

Any trait can be enough.

A pair of unsettling, slit-like pupils; black hair; even though he was a Wolf School Witcher, Cat School Witchers had a bad reputation. Or maybe he was too handsome, his accent strange, or the pleasant fragrance on him...

Any of these could be a reason.

In a place filled with malice, hostility needed no justification.

Harry remained silent.

Hermione tightened her grip around his waist.

The horse's hooves clattered, echoing as they rode toward the distance.

Once they passed the outpost, Novigrad was much closer.

By the next afternoon, they had arrived.

It was a city known as "The Pearl of the North." Its status was nearly equivalent to London during the Industrial Revolution, or New York after World War II—a hub of freedom and prosperity.

The Free City.

Ruled by the Eternal Fire, it prohibited sorcerers, non-humans, and "heretics who did not worship the Eternal Fire."

Hermione was both curious and excited to see it.

On the way, Harry had told her all about Novigrad's history.

It was epic, thrilling, full of grandeur.

But... the city disappointed her.

It was medieval in every sense—stone walls, fortress-like structures.

But it was also filthy.

The air was thick with a pungent mixture of odors.

Well, that was medieval too.

Just like the books described.

The origins of high heels and their practical use were clearly on display.

"How do we find him?" Hermione dismounted carefully and followed Harry closely.

Though Harry had offered her the horse, she wasn't comfortable with that idea.

"First, we find a very dear uncle of mine," Harry replied softly. "Follow me."

Novigrad was not a new place to Harry. He knew it well, almost like a second home.

They entered through the Glory Gate, passed the checkpoint, and headed straight to the heart of the city.

There stood a seemingly ordinary tavern.

Harry pushed the door open without hesitation.

"We're not open yet," a gruff voice barked almost the instant the door swung wide. "If you want a drink, go somewhere else."

"And this isn't a place for beggars!"

Harry smiled faintly. "Uncle Zoltan, not even for me?"

A large, round head popped out, eyes wide with surprise. "Harry? What are you doing in Novigrad?"

"For Ciri," Harry replied calmly. "Where's Dandelion?"

Hermione looked over, surprised.

It was a short man, nearly neckless, with a Mohawk-like haircut and a thick beard.

"Dandelion? I'd like to know that too," Zoltan shook his head. "Harry, you can see for yourself, the place is a mess. I left the tavern under his care."

He looked up and spotted the curious girl standing behind Harry. "Oh, Harry, and who is this young lady?"

"Hermione, my lover," Harry replied softly.

Hermione's face flushed as she nodded politely.

"Lover?" Zoltan's eyes widened in shock. "Good heavens, you of all people found a lover?"

"Uncle Zoltan, don't make it sound like I'm some heartless, emotionless stone," Harry chuckled, waving him off. "Hermione, this is Uncle Zoltan, one of Geralt's best friends, and one of the few people I hold in the same regard as Sirius, Remus, and Professor Snape."

Hermione gave a polite greeting. "Hello."

"Oh, hello there," Zoltan eyed her up and down, doing the typical scrutiny of an elder. "Harry, you've got good taste. Much better than that White Wolf's, that's for sure."

"You should be grateful Yennefer isn't here," Harry smirked.

"Let her burn this whole place down. It's a mess anyway," Zoltan clapped his hands. "But what are you doing looking for Dandelion? Sure, he's a bard, but if you're looking for Ciri, you'd be better off asking Triss."

"Geralt might not be able to find her, but you've got a good relationship with her, right?"

Harry nodded. "Ciri came to Novigrad. She even met with Dandelion."

"Dandelion's been missing for days?"

Zoltan shook his head. "I wouldn't know. I just got back to Novigrad myself."

"You know how he is. For all we know, he's holed up somewhere with a woman. We could search around, maybe find a clue or two."

Zoltan started to turn back to the cluttered bar, rolling up his sleeves.

Harry frowned. "Uncle Zoltan, there's no need to search."

"I think I already know."

Zoltan turned back, astonished. "I know you Witchers are good at rummaging for clues, but you haven't even done anything yet."

"It's complicated," Harry said quietly. "When this is all over, we can sit at the table and have a long talk, but for now, I'm afraid we don't have time for the full story."

"Terrible timing. We need to find someone to confirm what Dandelion's been up to."

"Whether he's looting Reuven's treasure, or if he's gotten himself tangled with Witch Hunters and is now locked up with the Temple Guard."

Zoltan looked even more stunned. "That sounds like something Geralt would get into, not Dandelion. Harry, are you sure you didn't mix them up?"

"Positive."

Harry nodded, pulling out his wand from under his robe.

"First, let's get this place in order. We haven't had a hot meal in a long time."

With a flick of his wrist, he waved his wand gently.

The things left behind by beggars and vagrants floated up, spinning in the air before vanishing in puffs of smoke.

The original tavern furnishings reappeared, sliding back into place.

Hermione pulled out her wand as well.

The grime on the floors and pillars vanished; cracks and damages mended themselves.

Within minutes, the place was spotless and renewed. freewebnσvel.cѳm

"Good heavens, what did you do?" Zoltan was stunned. "Harry, since when could you cast spells like a sorcerer?"

"And these magical feats..."

Harry waved his wand, conjuring a fireplace that lit itself with roaring flames. "That's part of the long story we'll discuss over drinks."

"Something very strange happened to me—like a Conjunction of the Spheres."

"You probably noticed—I've gotten quite a bit younger."

Zoltan examined him, mumbling to himself. "I thought it was just because you found a lover, and she started making you dress better—like how Yennefer always fixes up Geralt. After all, it's hard to tell how old you Witchers are."

"Right, who do we need to find to confirm Dandelion's whereabouts?"

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Powerstones?

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