HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

West suddenly opened his eyes.

He was lying on the Potter family's altar, the warm light reflecting off the dome making him blink uncontrollably, and tears streamed down his face.

He tried to bend his knuckles and found that all his joints were stiff and rusty.

With great difficulty, West managed to sit up, leaning against the foot of a stone deer, and managed to utter, "...An...Qi..." His parched throat strained to produce just two syllables.

With a "bang," Anqi appeared in the secret room, his eyes wide open.

"Oh! Master West! You're finally awake!" Angie said, choking back tears, large tears welling up in his round, bulbous eyes.

"Help me up," West said helplessly.

He tried several times but couldn't get up; his legs felt numb.

Angie hurriedly helped West up, conjured a chair, and made West sit down.

West breathed a sigh of relief, waiting for his legs to regain feeling. He stared at his legs, then suddenly raised his hand, feeling an infinite surge of magic power, and a long-lost sense of strength slowly awakened within him.

This feeling of ease, freedom, and unrestriction, this pure, uncursed magic, was something he had never experienced in either of his lives.

Okay, now the question is, why does he feel like he's gotten bigger?!

West looked at his hands, which were twice their normal size, and his pupils contracted sharply.

With a thought, a water mirror appeared before him, reflecting the face of a seventeen-year-old boy.

West opened his eyes wide in surprise.

The boy in the water mirror had waist-length red curly hair that cascaded down like a waterfall, dark green pupils, a small beauty mark under his eye, and deep, sculpted features.

His appearance in both lifetimes had somehow created a subtle fusion.

West suppressed his surprise, the magic he had just activated flowing through his body, and his legs were gradually regaining feeling.

"Is Mr. Grindelwald still outside, Angie?" West asked as he cut his long hair.

"Young master, you've been in a coma for a year," Angie said. "Mr. Grindelwald left the day after you fell into a deep sleep."

West's breath hitched, his expression suddenly stiffening. "I was in a coma... for a year?"

With a wave of his hand, time appeared in mid-air—

1993.7.28.

Ruined.

How is he supposed to explain to Harry his disappearance for a year...?

"However, Mr. Grindelwald has people guarding the manor, and I have already informed them when the young master woke up," Angie added.

"Very well, Angie," West picked up his wand and tucked it into his sleeve. "I'm going out now."

"But Mr. Grindelwald is on his way..." Angie hurriedly said, but before he could finish speaking, West had already disappeared with a "bang".

West used a long-distance Apparition to arrive at a secluded valley in England.

The valley, shrouded in the magic of the Somerset family, enjoys a perpetual spring-like climate.

West followed the flowing stream through the woods, the morning mist gradually dampening the hem of his wizard's robes. He came to a waterfall at the foot of a steep cliff.

With a barely audible whisper, the curtain of water was lifted by an invisible hand, revealing a path leading into the depths.

As we walked along the path, the sky brightened, and a vast manor came into view.

This grey-blue building, originally built in the Middle Ages, has a European-style spire and its exterior walls are covered with ivy that changes color.

Passing through the main gate that was open to him, West strolled to the front of the manor.

He examined the brass door knocker closely—it was entwined with a bronze snake, which affectionately rubbed against his knuckles as he reached out his hand.

The bronze serpent reluctantly returned to the door knocker, and with a soft "click," the manor opened its gates to West, welcoming his return.

Through the slowly opening door, he saw a house-elf standing blankly in the hall.

West smiled, his first genuine smile since waking up.

"Amy, I'm home."

Meanwhile, in the tallest tower of Nurmengard, Grindelwald was listening to his men's reports.

"Wester has woken up," the subordinate reported respectfully, bowing slightly.

"Where is he? Didn't you bring him with you?" Grindelwald asked.

"According to the Potter family's house-elf, he had to leave early."

"...Alright, you may leave."

Grindelwald turned to the sofa beside him, where an old man with a long beard was sitting, sipping a cup of tea.

"You heard that, Al? It's not my fault; that little brat ran off on his own."

Dumbledore calmly picked up a lemon sorbet, showing no sign of panic. He raised his deep eyes and said leisurely, "No rush. West will go find Harry."

July 31st is Harry's thirteenth birthday.

He got up early in the morning. Although he was so excited about opening his friend's gift that he didn't fall asleep until midnight the night before, he wasn't tired at all.

Harry had grown quite a bit taller over the past year—not as tall as Ron, but that made him very happy. Perhaps the only thing that bothered him this past year was the whereabouts of West.

Merlin knew how worried he was about West! But Dumbledore repeatedly assured him that West was alright and that when he returned, he would be completely free from the Dark Curse.

As a result, a year passed. He was about to enter the third grade.

"West, if you miss my birthday again, I won't forgive you..." Harry complained softly.

Harry went downstairs to have breakfast and sat down between Dudley and Uncle Vernon.

The Dursleys never wished Harry a happy birthday, and even pretended not to see him—which suited Harry just fine. He was used to this coldness, but with West out, he was really bored by himself.

As he ate his toast, he noticed a news anchor on TV reporting on a fugitive.

"...The public must be aware that Blake is armed and extremely dangerous. We have set up a hotline; anyone who knows Blake's whereabouts must report it immediately..."

Harry listened to the news absentmindedly, while his Uncle Vernon downed his teacup and said to Aunt Petunia, "I'm leaving now—Maggie's train arrives at ten o'clock."

Harry's heart skipped a beat upon hearing this. "Aunt Maggie?" he blurted out. "She's coming, isn't she?"

Aunt Maggie was a difficult person to get along with, and every visit left West and Harry with terrible memories.

Uncle Vernon began to set rules for Harry, such as forbidding him from speaking rudely to Maggie and from behaving strangely.

Harry retorted coldly, "Then you should teach her to behave."

Uncle Vernon pretended not to hear Harry and added, "Also, we've already told Maggie that you're attending St. Bruce's Safe Center for Juvenile Delinquents."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously, his anger rising within him.

He glared at his Uncle Vernon, gripping his wand tightly in his pocket—but he held back; he didn't want to cause trouble.

This is a terrible birthday, Harry thought.