Hogwarts: Harry Returns From The Witcher

"Raignac, I think I've heard that name before." Harry looked down at the goblin.

"Maybe one of your classmates is named that?" the old goblin sneered.

Harry shook his head: "No, your great-great-grandfather also had this name, Raignac I, the goblin king."

The old goblin's expression changed: "Aha, does the little wizard still want to learn such a boring history of magic?"

"Even goblins have forgotten a lot, haven't they, Flitwick."

Flitwick raised his wand: "See this thing in my hand?"

"A month and a half." Harry looked at him. "The stove's magic will last until I start school."

"Impossible!" The old goblin immediately refused, "I must give me a real stove..."

"Let you build weapons and armor, equip your subjects, and then take revenge on human wizards?" Harry sneered, interrupting him.

The old goblin's complexion changed suddenly, and he was a little panicked.

Harry took his wand and poked him hard on the forehead a few times: "Listen, we can do business well, but we can't talk like a lion."

"Maybe, I should report you, the self-proclaimed goblin king, to the Ministry of Magic, so that I should be able to find another blacksmith who is willing to cooperate with me."

"you understand me?"

The old goblin cursed: "You despicable, dirty little wizard!"

"I'm not boasting!"

"I have royal blood on my body..."

"One and a half months, maybe you can get a few pitchforks out." Harry exerted a little force, pushing the old goblin's forehead to arch a few wrinkles, "This is my bottom line."

The old goblin gritted his teeth and nodded: "Okay, one and a half months is one and a half months."

"At Professor Flitwick's," Harry added.

The old goblin rolled his eyes.

"I already know what you want to do, is there any need to hide it?" Harry knocked on its head, "It's just that in my eyes, I feel more at ease."

The old goblin gritted his teeth: "Cunning boy, you should go to Slytherin, the insidious poisonous snake is more suitable for you."

"Then I should kidnap you and use the Imperius Curse to control you." Harry withdrew his wand and sneered, "After staying underground for a long time, your brain has degenerated along with it?"

The old goblin spat, picked up the giant monster's skin on the ground, and checked it: "The skinning technique is very good, and the follow-up processing is also very good."

"Such a piece of skin might cost a lot of Galleons."

Harry said: "I began to doubt your eyesight. If you can pay attention to the sword wound on it, you should know that I hunted it myself."

"You are insulting me, a first-year little wizard..." The old goblin was furious.

Flitwick interrupted him with a cheerful tone: "He defeated a giant monster himself, excellent transfiguration spell and sword skills, Minerva has been bragging to us for a long time, Harry is simply Gryffindor reincarnated."

"Professor McGonagall imprisoned me for a month." Harry said blankly, "I never praised me that much."

Flitwick chuckled: "Minerva is always like this. She is very serious in front of the students, but she is also a Gryffindor after all."

"What else do you need?" Harry asked.

The old goblin stroked the skin tenderly: "What do you want?"

"As long as you can use the troll's anti-magic ability." Harry's request was simple.

The old goblin muttered: "Then you should go to the apprentice for this matter, not me."

"As you wish." Harry nodded, snatching the troll skin.

The old goblin was taken aback, and panicked: "No, you can't do this, how can an apprentice's craftsmanship compare to mine, even the simplest leather armor, the level of an apprentice and a master, there is a world of difference!"

"Then speak frankly." Harry threw the skin back, "I don't like people who talk in a wrong way, or goblins."

The old goblin hugged the giant monster's skin tightly: "I still need some magic dust, ten pounds of silver, iron, and preferably some unicorn hair."

Harry's wand rested on the old goblin's forehead again: "Do you take me for a troll?"

"Do you think what you have in your hand is the skin that I shed?"

"Ten pounds! Are you going to give me armor, be honest!"

The old goblin shrank his neck: "Five pounds..."

Harry's eyes became dangerous.

"Okay, okay, two pounds, I only need two pounds." The old goblin quickly changed his words.

"Half a pound." Harry drew back his wand. "I put iron and silver together, and I will grind them into powder and give them to you."

The old goblin clenched his fists: "Damn it, how did you know to use it like this?"

"I'm really sorry I couldn't make you fool me into a fool." Harry sneered.

The old goblin spat out a sentence through his teeth: "Since you are not willing to provide me with the materials, I will charge one hundred Galleons for the handling fee!"

"You have been provided with a stove." Harry refused decisively.

The old goblin shook his head: "No, no, that's only one and a half months."

"That's enough, isn't it?" Harry looked at it. "I remember...the last goblin rebellion was in the last century? I'm afraid you haven't touched a forge in a hundred years."

"Greedy, mean, cunning!" the old goblin cursed, "How can you be a Gryffindor!"

"Damn little wizard!"

"Give me nothing and send me a stove that lasts only a month and a half!"

Harry ignored it and looked at Professor Flitwick: "Professor, I'm afraid I will trouble you later."

"It doesn't matter." Flitwick shook his head, "My house will be very suitable for goblins to live in."

They come out of the crypt.

The old goblin stopped at the entrance of the cave, raised his hand to cover his eyes, wobbled his footsteps, and then stood upright again.

"The air above ground is much better than underground." Harry took a deep breath. "And it's too narrow and short. If I were taller, I would have to bow my waist."

The old goblin scoffed.

Flitwick's house is in the southeast corner of Godric, and the house is one size larger than the neighbor's.

"It seems that my yard is going to be wronged for a while." Flitwick waved his wand, cast a few concealed spells, and cleaned up the flowers and trees again, "Raignac, what kind of stove do you want. "

The old goblin was indeed a skilled blacksmith.

He directed Flitwick, and in a short while he built the stove it wanted.

"It's okay." The old goblin looked critically, "It's much worse than what I used before, but dealing with such an apprentice..."

It paused: "It's more than enough to handle such a simple piece of leather armor."

Flitwick walked over to Harry, muttering, "I really want to put a spell on it, it's so noisy, I didn't know it could be so noisy before."

"After all, I haven't seen sunshine in decades." Harry shook his head, "This is really troublesome for you."

Flitwick waved his hand: "No, it's nothing to worry about."

"Legnak and I have also known each other for decades. It is the most stubborn goblin—the group of goblins in Gringotts. In its mouth, they are all traitors to wizards."

"It's a good thing for it to come out and see the changes over the past few decades."

"What are you going to do next?"

"Should I visit Godric, or go to your house?"

Harry took a deep breath and clenched his wand tightly: "Go back to my house and have a look."

He was in a complicated mood.

Home…

Such an unfamiliar vocabulary.

Kaer Morhen is of course home, and Vesemir and even Geralt are people he is willing to call his father--Lambert can't, he is more reckless than himself, he is an uncle.

Eskel may be able to play the role of mother, he is ugly, but he is very gentle.

Can…

No matter how good they are, there is always a blood relationship missing.

Flitwick remained silent, and led Harry towards the road leading to the outside of the village. After a while, he saw a dilapidated house overgrown with weeds, dilapidated and desolate.

Most of the house is still intact.

"This is your home." Flitwick slowed down, "Although the outside looks a bit desolate and dilapidated, inside, every year, Dumbledore arranges for house elves to come and clean it up."

Harry nodded, walked over, and grabbed the door.

A faint magical breath surged.

Harry subconsciously backed away and took out his kitchen knife and wand.

Not a trap.

A wooden sign grew out of the tangled grass, raised up, and unfolded in front of him, with words of remembrance written on it in golden letters.

James, Lily, and Harry...

"Dumbledore did it," Flitwick said softly. "Lily and James need to be remembered."

Harry sighed with emotion: "His brain is indeed becoming more and more like a troll."

"To be remembered, you don't need to use this method."

But he didn't deal with the wooden sign, opened the door and walked in.

Flitwick followed in his footsteps.

The furniture and furnishings in the room were like new, clean and spotless, except that there was no breath of living people, even Harry couldn't feel the breath of those tiny lives.

Well protected.

He took a few steps inside.

"James?" A voice suddenly sounded next to his ear, "Is it James?"

Harry turned his head and looked over.

It was a portrait, the person in the portrait was very similar to his appearance in his thirties, with rougher lines, wearing wizard robes, and a bottle of gleaming potion was placed on the table next to him.

"No, you're not James, are you...Harry?" The portrait's voice trembled.

"It's me." Harry nodded.

The portrait greeted: "Come closer, let me see, you look too much like James, and your eyes are also amber..."

"Oh, what's with your eyes, so like a lion?"

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you? He thought my eyes were changed because of the Potter family." Harry replied, "And you?"

The portrait introduced itself: "I am your grandfather, Fremont Potter."

"Hello." Harry hesitated, not knowing how to greet him.

Fremont frowned in the portrait: "Dumbledore didn't tell me about your eyes, which seems too weird."

"I know, but no Potter is like that."

"You can go to the family library and have a look."

"Although there was an accident that day, fortunately there was no damage there."

"That's a place that only we Potter can go in. Dumbledore has asked many times, but I didn't agree to him."

Thanks for the reward from Summer Sleepy!

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