Hogwarts: Harry Returns from Azeroth

Chapter 2. Magical Magic and the Magical Dumbledore

These people who suddenly appeared on the street attracted Harry's attention, especially the way they appeared so quietly and without warning.

Most of these people pointed in this direction in shock after landing. Harry keenly realized that they were actually paying attention to him - or in other words, these people knew him in advance and knew of his existence?
Harry, however, had no impression of them at all.

Is it because of your biological parents? Or is it because of some other reason?
Harry felt that he might be on the verge of finding the truth - this strange magical power he possessed.

The sudden collapse of a house was undoubtedly an extremely eye-catching event. Those who also lived on this street had already popped their heads out, wanting to get closer to number 4 Privet Drive to see what had happened.

However, as Harry watched, a group of people who had appeared out of nowhere on the street separated and walked towards those who wanted to come and watch the fun, waving a small wooden stick that was almost as long as an arm.

Then, those people seemed to have forgotten what was happening here and walked back very naturally - even the cars stopped passing by.

Unlike the general attire of the people in the world that Harry remembered, most of the people who suddenly appeared on the street were wearing robes, and some even had pointed hats on their heads, just like the wizards in fairy tales.

Harry didn't have much time to observe and think. Soon, an old man with white hair and beard appeared out of nowhere on the street, and his appearance obviously made the people around him feel a lot more relaxed.

——Many of those people looked at Harry with fear in their eyes and their nerves were tense.

A man in a top hat trotted towards the old man, his face full of nervousness.

"… not the Obscurus, Dumbledore. Fortunately it is not…"

"...Calm down, Cornelius...Leave it to me..."

The ubiquitous wind brought their conversation to Harry's ears. It was not an illusion. Harry noticed that the old man with a white beard seemed to notice the strange wind. He turned his head to look into the empty space, then walked towards Harry.

"Can we talk, kid?" the old man with a white beard said with a smile, "Don't be afraid, we don't mean any harm to you. In fact, it would be great if you were not hurt."

He looked at Harry carefully, then looked at the concrete giant that supported the collapsed house and protected Harry and the other three, his eyes full of surprise.

"Of course sir," Harry said quietly.

As he spoke, the concrete soil elements gradually curled up their bodies, and within a few seconds they collapsed and shattered into real ruins. There was nothing strange about them, as if they had been like that from the beginning.

The smoke and dust that had subsided a little started to rise again, but this time, Harry only saw the old man with a white beard also take out a wooden stick and wave it, and the smoke and dust disappeared without a trace.

So this is the magic of this world?

It's quite secretive...it should be very useful.

Harry's eyes flickered.

The world he was born in now seemed not as peaceful as he remembered, and the power of magic was hidden for unknown reasons.

"Amazing magic," the old man with white beard exclaimed, "Please forgive my curiosity - how did you do it?"

"I don't know, sir," Harry lied without batting an eyelid, "I didn't expect this."

Well, actually it can't be said to be a lie. After all, Harry really didn't expect that in this world, casting shaman spells was not about drawing elemental power from the four elements of wind, fire, earth and water, but directly drawing from the environment around him - this directly led to the destruction of the Dursleys' house.

To be honest, Harry felt quite guilty.

"Very wonderful magic...very wonderful," the old man with white beard smiled kindly, "At least I have never seen such a strange form - could you please demonstrate it again?"

As he spoke, he winked playfully. It can be seen that this old man is really good at dealing with children. If an ordinary eleven-year-old child was praised like this, he would probably forget his fear and concerns on the spot and would be eager to show himself - it's a pity that Harry is not an ordinary child.

"I'm afraid not, sir," Harry looked down at his palms, "They can't hear me."

This is true.

The elemental activity in this world was even lower than Harry had imagined. Harry's action of proactively shaping an earth elemental giant just now seemed to have further reduced the elemental activity in this area. At least it would not appear again in a short period of time.

The elemental had not told Harry the reason for this silence, and he planned to find out after training to regain his strength.

I am too weak and unsafe now.

"Is that so?" The white-bearded old man sighed with regret. He seemed to believe it completely. "That's really a pity - but life is so long, it is always a joy to be able to see different scenery. If you -"

"monster!!"

It seemed that after such a long period of relaxation, Fenon finally woke up and let out a short scream.

"It's gone! My house is gone!"

"The house turned into a monster! The monster even protected me from being crushed by the house. All monsters are monsters!!"

Under excessive shock, Fenong's language ability seemed to have been confused. The words he spoke were incoherent and then stopped abruptly - but it was not because Fenong suddenly calmed down, but because the white-bearded old man waved his small wooden stick.

Well, it wasn't just Vernon, Penny and Dudley also fainted in an instant.

Without saying anything, Harry turned around and measured the breathing of several people. After confirming that they were just asleep, he turned around.

"Don't worry, kid, they just need to relax." The white-bearded old man smiled kindly. Harry's behavior made him very satisfied. "Don't worry, when they wake up, all the bad things will disappear."

"...What do you mean?" Harry looked around and sighed, "I don't think my uncle is likely to forgive me...and it may take him some time to receive my compensation."

Just by looking at the ruins, Harry felt that his uncle and aunt would not be in a good mood, especially Petunia. She would faint just thinking about the neighbors' talk behind her back, not to mention the property losses. "Oh, of course it's not that serious," the old man with a white beard laughed when he heard what Harry said. "You are relatives with blood ties, and there will be no eternal hatred between relatives - like I said, things are not yet irreversible."

"You have already shown me a wonderful magic, haven't you?" The old man with white beard blinked like a child and said, "Now, it's my turn."

After saying that, he once again waved the small wooden stick with multiple joints in his hand - Harry had already seen that this was probably the exclusive weapon of the wizards in this world, and the style was similar.

Small wooden stick.

However, the weapon issue is not the point for the time being. The point is that as Harry watched, the surrounding ruins began to move again - and they were not driven by the power of the elements, but it was more like they had their own life.

No, to be precise, time seems to be flowing backwards?

The collapsed wall fragments were reinserted back into their original positions, the concrete and bricks that had been crushed and reshaped into elemental bodies also returned to their original appearance, the walls became white again, and even Daddy's paintings on the walls returned, and the few stains and traces of time on the walls were the same as before.

There were also the furniture in the room, the tables and chairs, the broken dishes, the destroyed television and other appliances... Everything in Harry's eyes seemed to have a rewind button pressed, changing from a broken state to its previous intact state.

In the end, what appeared before Harry was a complete and intact house, everything was no different from what he had seen when he stepped out of the cupboard door that morning.

The people on the street outside could not be seen, the fire in the fireplace was crackling, everything was so normal, nothing had happened.

Nothing really happened.

Snapped!Snapped!Snapped!
I couldn't help but applaud. To be honest, even in the eyes of Harry, who had experienced adventures in another world, the magic displayed by the old man with white beard was so powerful that it was like - magic among magics! !

If the mages of Stormwind had this ability back then, they would not have rebuilt Stormwind. They also owed wages to the Stonemasons Guild, which led to a series of events that happened to the Brotherhood later.

"Awesome!" Harry clapped his hands and exclaimed, "That's amazing."

His temperament was much more lively than his appearance. Amid Harry's applause, the white-bearded old man covered his abdomen with one hand and stretched out the other hand to bow to both sides and in front of him - just like taking a bow to the applause at the end of a play.

"thanks, thanks."

It's really hard on his old waist.

"Okay, Harry," the white-bearded old man smiled and put away his weapon, motioning to the sofa next to him, "Please forgive me for being nosy - the activities just now are a bit beyond the scope of stretching your muscles. If you don't mind, why don't we sit down and talk?"

Harry found that the old man was somewhat familiar - or at least he was familiar with one of his uncles or aunts.

As Harry watched, the refrigerator door in the kitchen opened by itself, and a few pieces of dessert that Dudley didn't like flew out. The kettle was filled with water and fell on the stove. It took only a few seconds to boil the water.

The teacups danced hand in hand onto the table, with the clatter of a tap. Tea leaves had been put into them at some point. After the hot water was stirred, the sweet aroma of milk mixed with the fragrance of tea rushed into Harry's nose.

"Awesome," was still Harry's sincere admiration. Just with this kind of magic, he was already more enjoyable than those wizards in Dalaran.

"Take a seat first, Harry," the white-bearded old man said with a smile, "Oh, don't worry about your relatives. When they wake up, it will be another beautiful day, and all those bad memories will disappear - well, it will be like a nightmare."

"...You tampered with their memories?" Harry frowned.

Memory is a sensitive topic no matter where you are - at least Harry would not want others to see his treasured memories, nor would he want others to tamper with his memories.

"Do you think they will want to remember everything that happened today?" the white-bearded old man asked back.

Recalling Vernon's chaotic state, Harry was silent for a moment, nodded, and gave up nagging the question.

"Although it seems a bit late to say this now, I think the most basic procedures for the first meeting between people are still necessary - what do you think, Harry?" The white-bearded old man said with a smile: "Let me introduce myself, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Leaning forward slightly, Dumbledore held out his hand.

"...Harry Potter, you already know." Although somewhat surprised by the old man's sharpness and respect that far exceeded his age, Harry also responded with the corresponding etiquette. He shook Dumbledore's outstretched hand and said, "Magic school?"

Is it something like the original Dalaran? A school for magic? Or the Kirin Tor?

"Of course, magic school - although it sounds a bit too proud to say it directly, but I have to say solemnly that Hogwarts is definitely the best magic school in Europe," Dumbledore said with a playful wink after sitting back.

The best in Europe... that means there are other magic schools, that is to say, they don't have political stances like Dalaran?

Harry was thinking in his mind, but he didn't show anything on the surface.

"Oh, that's right," Dumbledore sighed as if he suddenly remembered something, and then began to search around on his body.

To be honest, there is something Harry has wanted to say for a long time - Dumbledore's outfit, a purple robe with a lot of silver moon and star patterns on it - is this the aesthetic of wizards in this world?
Isn’t that right?

At least the other people who appeared on the street just now were not dressed like this.

"Aha! Found it, it's here." While Harry was thinking about aesthetic issues, Dumbledore finally found what he was looking for.

From a pocket on the inside of his robes he pulled a letter stamped with red lacquer and handed it to Harry.

"Fortunately, I brought a letter with me, otherwise it would have been a pity for the little wizard."

"...Wizard?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow after taking the letter.

(End of this chapter)