Sorcerer Supreme at Hogwarts (English Versión)-Chapter 177: Return to the Beginning [Special]

💬 Author's Note:

This special is something I've been thinking about for a long time.

In fact, I've got so much planned for it that it could easily become a full novel on its own.

However, I decided to tweak it a little and, for now, I'll be releasing it as a multi-Chapter special.

I'll have to summarize quite a bit so it doesn't get too long, though I'm not ruling out the idea of turning it into a spin-off later on.

But for now... enjoy this special! 😄✨

......

Return to the Beginning [Special]

Harry was sleeping soundly, wrapped in an uncomfortable silence, until the echo of shouting and clattering from the kitchen yanked him out of his rest.

"IS BREAKFAST READY YET?!" barked a rough voice, full of irritation.

Just hearing it made Harry shiver. No matter how powerful he was now, that voice still had the power to freeze his blood. It was an echo from the past, a monster trapped in the body of an ordinary man.

He opened his eyes slowly. Everything was blurry. His first instinct was to reach for his glasses, and when he put them on, something puzzled him"his vision improved, yes, but for years now those glasses had only been a prop to hide... something else. A hidden power in his gaze, too special to be understood.

He looked around in growing confusion. The walls, the dampness, the worn mattress... he recognized this place.

The small cupboard under the stairs.

Startled, he looked down at his hands. They were small, thin.

Child's hands.

His heart skipped a beat. A chill ran down his spine.

"No..." he whispered in panic.

"BOY! THE BLOODY BREAKFAST'S BURNING! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Uncle Vernon's voice roared, slamming the door so hard dust fell from the ceiling.

Harry didn't understand what was happening, but his body reacted on pure instinct, as if those words were a spell that still had power over him. He jumped up and rushed to the kitchen, picking up the pan with trembling hands to serve the bacon.

His mind was chaos. Everything inside him screamed that this wasn't supposed to be happening.

While he served the food, the Dursleys ate calmly, completely ignoring his tormented expression. To them, his suffering was invisible... or worse, irrelevant.

When he finished, he returned to his "room," quickly shutting the door. He sat against the wall, trembling, holding his head.

"This can't be happening... Why am I here again? Where's my family?" he whispered, his voice breaking. Real, raw panic took over him for the first time in a long time.

"SHUT UP, BOY! WE'RE WATCHING TELEVISION!" Vernon yelled from the kitchen.

Harry immediately closed his mouth. He shut his eyes and began to breathe slowly, remembering the meditation technique Stephen had taught him.

"It's okay... Maybe... maybe this is like one of those time travel stories Wanda loves," he murmured, trying to calm himself.

Careful not to make a sound, he crept out of the cupboard and sat near the door. He was waiting for a letter, a sign, anything. But his moment was interrupted by Vernon's annoyed gaze.

"What are you doing there? Go get ready! We're going to the zoo," he growled.

Despite his disdain, they had no choice but to take him. The neighbor who usually watched him was sick, and after telling the whole neighborhood that Harry was a rude, rebellious kid, no one would agree to take him in.

Harry remembered this day clearly: the day he accidentally freed a snake... and locked Dudley in its enclosure.

He also remembered the punishment that followed: a week without food and several beatings.

In the reptile house, he saw it. A snake, motionless, resigned. Harry approached cautiously.

"Hello," he whispered.

The snake lifted its head, staring at him.

"Can you understand me?" he asked in Parseltongue, afraid it was all just a dream.

When the snake nodded, Harry let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, the weight of fear disappeared.

This time, he avoided punishment. He didn't use magic unconsciously. He couldn't afford another week of hunger.

Back home, he acted like an automaton. He cleaned, cooked, obeyed. An invisible child, like a house-elf.

His uncles were puzzled by his docility, but as long as he stayed out of their way, they didn't ask questions.

Then the day came.

The postman left the mail at the door. As always, Harry was waiting. He quickly took the letters, making sure Dudley wasn't nearby, and looked through them... until he found it.

The letter.

Without reading it, he tucked it into his pocket. He left the rest on the table and pretended to have a cold. His uncles, terrified that their precious son might catch it, immediately sent him to his room, far from the rest.

There, in the silence, he opened the letter. He didn't need to read it; he knew every word. He just had to wait until his uncles left... and find the owl.

He had two letters ready, along with a piece of bacon.

When the Dursleys' car disappeared down the street, Harry ran outside. It didn't take long to find the owl.

"Please deliver this to Professor McGonagall... and this one to Remus Lupin," he said, offering the bacon as a reward.

The owl ate, then took flight, majestic and graceful.

As he watched it disappear into the distance, a familiar voice interrupted his moment.

"Harry? Weren't you sick?" asked Mrs. Figg, slowly approaching.

Harry turned to look at her. The old woman always had that mix of fragility and disdain he'd never been able to figure out. Sometimes she gave him sweets... but also treated him like a parasite in front of the Dursleys.

He knew the truth: Figg was a Squib sent to protect him. But when the Dursleys abused him, she did nothing. She pretended not to see, not to hear. Her indifference had been a silent betrayal... one Harry had not forgiven.

He looked at her coldly.

He said nothing.

She could have done something. She knew he was being mistreated. If she couldn't turn to the magical world, she could've at least gone to the Muggle police.

But no.

She chose to stay on the sidelines, offering empty moments of kindness.

"Mrs. Figg... as a Squib, you should know the damage abuse can cause. And yet, you did nothing. When I had to sleep in a tree to avoid Marge's dog, I saw you. You were at your window. I saw you watching me... and you did nothing. You were supposed to protect me," said Harry, with a gaze so cold the woman took a step back, startled.

"How do you...?" she stammered, unsteady.

"Please, don't come near me. Someone who sees another's suffering and does nothing... is worse than the abuser," Harry added, turning around and walking back into the house without looking back.

Mrs. Figg stood frozen, as if she'd been turned to stone.

Once inside, Harry paused for a second.

Maybe... maybe he had been too impulsive.

Dumbledore probably knew by now that he was aware of the magical world. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

But he didn't care.

He'd spit in that old man's face if necessary. And he would do everything in his power to return to his true family, even if they didn't remember him yet.

He knew Stephen's personality. He knew about his brothers.

Maybe... maybe he could bring them together earlier than expected.

Harry waited for nearly a week, anxious. He hoped Lupin would respond.

Especially because of what he'd written in the letter.

Though, deep down, Harry also felt a faint unease toward the werewolf.

A supposed friend of his parents... who disappeared after their deaths and never came back for him.

Sure, he had the excuse of being a werewolf. He might've feared hurting him.

And Harry knew Dumbledore had forbidden him from getting close "for his safety."

Still... as Wanda always said, "some people need a good beating as an apology."

Then, one day, the doorbell rang.

Harry, nerves frayed and heart pounding, ran to the door without thinking. He flung it open.

Standing in front of him was a man who looked like a vagrant.

But Harry recognized him instantly.

"Good to see you, Professor Lupin "he said, holding back a smile.

Lupin was stunned. The resemblance between this boy and James Potter was uncanny. But what truly struck him were his words.

"I... I'm not a professor. You must be Harry. I got your letter. Is it true what you said? "he asked, a flicker of hope in his tired eyes.

"Yes. Please, come in "Harry replied quickly, acting as if they were complete strangers. He knew that if he said he came from the future, Lupin wouldn't believe him. And he couldn't trust anyone yet.

"You little brat! Who did you let in?! "Vernon yelled, stomping down the stairs, his brow furrowing as he spotted Lupin.

"They're my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. The people Dumbledore chose to leave me with. They mistreat me. Starve me. Sometimes, they try worse "Harry said calmly, as if he were talking about the weather.

"What are you babbling about, you ungrateful brat?! "Vernon roared, lunging at him.

But before he could get close, Lupin raised his wand.

"Petrificus Totalus!

Vernon collapsed like a log, completely rigid. His eyes were wide with terror.

Petunia backed away when she saw the wand. She recognized it. Or rather, she recognized what it represented. Something she'd seen in her sister's hands.

"You're... from that world "she whispered, trembling.

But that was the last thing she said before being petrified like her husband.

"Good. Now we can talk about Sirius and Pettigrew "Harry said, a smile forming on his lips as he took full control of the situation... and the space.

Harry was a natural-born leader. Not in his childhood, perhaps. But definitely in his teenage years.

Raised by two legends, with brothers who were literally gods of destruction, he often felt overshadowed.

But Harry...

Harry was a monster in the making too. Just a younger one.

The aura around him shifted. It became pure, noble, articulate.

It was like standing before a prince.

This Harry had Tony's sarcasm, Loki's cunning, Stephen's brilliance, Wanda's emotional intensity, Natasha's lethality, and the protective love of his grandparents.

Lupin felt it. He wasn't standing before a child.

He was facing an equal.

No... a superior.

"Please, have a seat "Harry said, guiding him to one of the couches.

Lupin nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious about how filthy he was.

"Don't worry. I clean that couch every day. I think I've earned the right to let my guest dirty it a little... don't you think? "he added, throwing a mocking glance at his frozen relatives, whose eyes moved frantically in terror, sensing the change in the boy's demeanor.

Lupin swallowed hard.

"What's this about Sirius being innocent... and Peter hiding as a rat, being the real traitor? "he asked, unable to hold it in any longer.

"Well... "Harry began to recount everything.

The truth about that night.

How Sirius had arrived first at the ruined house, pulled him from the rubble, and handed him to Hagrid along with his motorcycle.

How he then went after Peter... and the coward blew himself up to frame Sirius and escape.

All because the Death Eaters knew he was the one who had given Voldemort the Potters' location.

"How do you know all that? How do I know it's true? "Lupin asked urgently.

"Easy. Peter's hiding as a rat in the Weasley household.

And how do I know?

That's a secret. Think of me as... a prophet "Harry said with a calm, almost regal air.

Lupin stared at him for a few seconds. Then nodded.

"I'll verify if what you said about Peter is true. If it is... then we'll demand a new trial to free Sirius.

"Perfect. Wait a moment. I'll go grab a few things "Harry said, standing up calmly.

"Do you want to come with me? "Lupin asked seriously.

"I'm not afraid of your werewolf form. But I don't have my wand to defend myself from them "he said, pointing at his relatives.

"And to use eldritch magic... I need special runes made with specific materials "he added in a low voice, before disappearing to collect his belongings.

Then, Harry put on his best clothes, even though they were too big and hung from his body like they didn't belong to him.

He grabbed a few memories and essential objects, things he would carry with him because he knew, with absolute certainty, that he would never return to that place... even if they tried to force him.

With a small backpack slung over his shoulder, he crossed the threshold of his room without looking back.

He paused only for a moment in front of Lupin, his eyes steady and resolute.

"Let's go "he said with command and a calmness that didn't match his age, but perfectly matched his hardened soul.