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Harry Potter: Returns Back From Game of Thrones (ASOIAF) - 5
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 11:45:06 +0000 UTCChapter 5: Enemies
While Harry was thinking, Hagrid continued answering Harry's various questions.
"...In recent decades, persecution in the wizarding world has actually just been pure-bloods and half-bloods against wizards from Muggle families..."
Hagrid felt he'd said too much. He shouldn't discuss such matters with a child—he should talk more about the good things in the magical world.
Without so much fighting and killing, the magical world should have more "love".
Hagrid seemed to understand Professor Dumbledore somewhat. Telling children about such hatred was truly strange—he should speak more of beautiful things.
Of course, he hadn't realised that Harry had already imagined Hogwarts as a dangerous place in his mind.
"Anyway, Hogwarts is a wonderful place."
Hagrid said, feeling his words lacked conviction even to himself.
Scratching his head: "I believe after some training, you'll definitely become an excellent wizard. You're already an outstanding child now—I can't beat you anymore. But learning more magic, studying potion-making, and learning how to care for adorable magical creatures is always good..."
"Magic isn't about fighting and killing, but about love."
"Oh yes, the letter. I think now's the time for you to read this letter."
Harry thought about it—indeed, having the opportunity to learn magic was good.
Combat magic was one thing, but he should definitely learn domestic magic to improve quality of life. If he crossed over to mediaeval times again or returned to the A Song of Ice and Fire world, having magic would certainly be convenient.
He finally reached out to take the letter he'd been curious about before crossing over. Due to Uncle Vernon's interference, he'd never opened it.
It was a pale yellow envelope with emerald green ink writing:
Mr H. Potter, The Hut on the Rock, The Sea.
He pulled out the letter and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Seeing Hogwarts gave him another reason to attend school.
Harry received inspiration—he could sense where he could achieve accomplishments and earn attribute points.
In the A Song of Ice and Fire world, he'd participated in many major events based on this intuition.
Returning to this world, inexplicably named "Harry Potter", he now felt Hogwarts would be a convergence point of destiny for the next few years. There were definitely attribute points there.
Harry had many more questions, his long-unused wisdom operating at high speed since his return.
He couldn't decide what to ask first. After a while, he asked: "What do they mean by 'we await your owl'?"
"Galloping gorgons, oh, I remember."
Hagrid, who'd recovered considerably in such a short time, patted his forehead with enough force to knock down a strong horse—though Harry hadn't used full force, this recovery ability was still abnormal.
He pulled a long quill and a roll of parchment from his coat pocket, then whistled sharply. An owl swooped down from somewhere in the storm.
Biting his tongue tip with his teeth, he hastily scribbled a note. Harry read upside down:
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Given Harry his letter. Harry is very, very strong.
Can't believe he's only eleven and already so excellent.
Taking him tomorrow to buy his things. The weather's terrible.
Hope you're well,
Hagrid
Hagrid rolled up the note, let the owl clasp it in its beak, walked to the door, and released the owl into the storm.
Then he returned and sat down as if this were as ordinary as making a phone call.
Harry nodded. So owls were this world's ravens.
Maesters' ravens could only travel between fixed castles with the risk of losing contact, while the Three-Eyed Raven's ravens had various abilities—communicating in bird language and even seeing the consciousness of the dead through ravens.
This world's wizards' owls were definitely superior to maesters' ravens—they could track, might be faster, and probably had extremely weak magic power of perhaps 0.1, but since they carried handwritten letters, they probably couldn't directly transmit consciousness.
"Well, I understand about Hogwarts roughly. Could we talk more about my parents? As a child, I heard from Aunt Petunia that they died in a car crash, but today I learnt it wasn't so?"
"Car crash!" Hagrid snorted angrily. "How could a car crash hurt Lily and James Potter? That's slander! Libel!"
"But why? How did they die? Be specific—who did it?"
Harry was more furious than Hagrid inwardly, storms brewing beneath his calm surface.
Since there was such blood-deep vengeance, whoever it was, Harry swore he would find and kill them.
The anger faded from Hagrid's face as he suddenly appeared anxious and uneasy.
"I never expected it would be like this," he said in low, worried tones. "Dumbledore told me I might encounter trouble finding you, because there were many things you didn't know. Oh Harry, I don't know if it's appropriate for me to tell you—but someone has to tell you."
"Right, I'll tell you everything I know—though I can't tell you the whole story, because many things remain mysteries..."
He sat down: "I suppose I should start with someone called—but you can't not know his name; it's unbelievable that everyone in our world knows—"
"Who? Give me his name—"
Harry asked calmly, having already sentenced this person to death in his heart.
He would twist his enemy's skull off and use it as a bowl.
"Well, unless absolutely necessary, I don't want to mention his name. No one wants to."
"Why not?"
"Gulping gargoyles, Harry, people are still terrified. Oh dear, it's difficult. There was a wizard who later... went bad. Completely bad. As bad as could be. His name was..."
Hagrid swallowed but still couldn't speak a word.
"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested.
"No—I can't spell it. Alright—he was called Voldemort."
Hagrid shuddered. "Don't make me repeat his name again. Anyway, this... this wizard, about twenty years ago, started seeking followers for himself. He found some people... some because they feared him, some wanting to learn dark arts from him, because his power grew daily.
Well, those were dark days indeed, Harry. You didn't know who to trust, didn't dare befriend strange wizards... terrible things happened.
Of course some opposed him, so he killed them all.
Terrible. The only safe place then was Hogwarts. You-Know-Who feared Dumbledore most. He absolutely didn't dare touch that school, at least not then."
"Oh, sounds very terrible."
Harry absorbed every word with predatory stillness, carving the name Voldemort into his memory like a blade – along with a single, unshakeable certainty: the bastard would die by his hand.
