"Harry, Harry!"

"Wake up, the Wild Hunt is coming!"

Geralt's half-dead voice echoed in his ears.

Harry opened his eyes suddenly, struggled to his feet, and slammed his head hard on the steps.

Stairs?

He was a little confused, covering his forehead and looking around carefully.

It was a narrow, cramped space, dark and without any light. Above my head were stairs, one step at a time, and I could hear the tiny rustling sounds of spiders crawling.

The most important thing is his weak and thin body, which can be blown away by a griffin's wings.

Long-lost memories flooded into my mind.

This is……

My aunt’s home when I was on Earth.

He sat up quietly, pushed open the cupboard door, and stuck his head out - the scene in the room gradually corresponded to those long-forgotten memories.

Are you back?

But how could it be...

Is it a dream, an extremely real dream?

It was hard for him not to have such doubts - no matter what the reason, he came back from that world, but his body returned to the age of ten or eleven.

But he was sure that the experience was not a dream.

He could feel the magic in his body - a magic that was completely different from that of a warlock or a demon hunter. He could also feel the effects on his physical body after the mutation.

More acute senses, hungrier bodies.

as well as……

"Igni," Harry said, and rubbed his fingers together. A small flame appeared and then went out in the blink of an eye. He still had the power of the sigil.

"Is it Ciri?"

The girl with ancient blood can manipulate time and space. Although it is incredible, it is not impossible for her to send herself back to this age.

Harry rubbed his head.

This is really not good news.

If I have the chance to meet Mentor White Wolf in the future, I hope he can give me a chance to sit down and explain the reasons.

Da da da——

The sound of dragging footsteps came hurriedly from not far away. It was not very heavy, but the tone was anxious.

"Get up--" The woman's voice was sharp. She was about to shout to the burden of the family to get up as usual, but when she saw Harry sitting on the stairs, her voice stopped abruptly.

What an incredible thing.

Penny's tongue was tied in her mouth. "Are you up already? Very good, you finally look like a human today. Go, wash up, get the letter, and eat."

Harry nodded, washed up as he remembered, and walked to the door.

Petunia stared at Harry's back, frowning in confusion.

Harry today...

Something is different.

But where exactly is it?

There were only three letters on the doormat.

The thickest of them was addressed to himself - "Mr. Harry Potter, Cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Who would send a letter to themselves?

The memories of his childhood seem very distant to him, but the pain will not fade away with time; it will only become more clearly engraved.

Thanks to his aunt's family, he was an unpopular and friendless person both in society and at school.

He took the letter back to the kitchen, put the remaining two on the table, and prepared to open this one.

Someone attacked!

Harry shrank his head, rolled off the stool, and squinted his eyes at his Uncle Vernon who was holding out his hand.

"Boy, what's in your hand!" Seeing that the thing was not brought over, the man, whose body was as big as a troll, slammed the table heavily and questioned with a grin.

"A letter," Harry answered simply. "My letter."

Uncle Fenong sneered: "Who would write to you?"

"Bring it here, let me see it!"

Harry ignored him, opened the letter, shook out the paper, glanced at it, and raised his eyebrows: "It's a magic school called Hogwarts, and they invited me to go to school."

He raised his head.

Uncle Fenon's eyes widened in horror, and his face turned pale in an instant.

In the kitchen, there was a clang, and Petunia dropped the pot in her hand. She rushed out and pounced on Harry, trying to snatch the letter from his hand.

Harry dodged the question lightly: "It seems that you know about Hogwarts. Tell me about it?"

"Give me the letter, you rascal!" Uncle Fei Nong stood up, strode over, and rolled up his sleeves. "You don't want to suffer any more, do you?"

"Alder!" Harry raised his hands and cast a seal.

The impact of telekinesis sent Fenon flying backwards, and he landed heavily on the dining table, his body covered in a mess.

Peggy screamed, so sharp and piercing!

Harry shook the letter in his hand: "Now we should be able to talk about it."

"No, how could you!" Petunia looked at Harry in astonishment, "You haven't even started school yet, how can you use magic?"

"Magic," Harry repeated the word. "So the letter is real?"

When he was picked up by Vesemir, the oldest wolf-faction demon hunter master, there were a group of corpses of evil spirits lying around him. This was very similar to the magical burst of a source warlock when he encountered danger. He was naturally considered to be a source warlock.

But Yennefer checked him and found that although there was a power in his body, it was different from the magic used by the warlocks.

This does not affect him from becoming a demon hunter.

Even... maybe he will become the first witcher master who can master powerful magic instead of just a few sigils.

Harry never felt that the magic was a power that he originally possessed - he just regarded it as a gift from coming to a strange world inexplicably.

Now it seems that the facts... are not quite the same as he imagined.

This power that can strengthen one's own seal through simple exploration originally belongs to you.

"Your eyes!" Penny finally discovered the source of the strangeness of her nephew. "Why did your eyes become like this?"

He wasn't wearing his usual glasses, and his eyes...

Harry was unmoved.

He knew what Aunt Petunia was talking about.

Demon hunters are a group of mutated monsters in human skin. Their eyes are the biggest difference between them and normal humans.

Amber color, vertical pupils - like a cat, but also like a snake.

"It's not important. Now it's time to talk to me about Hogwarts." Harry waved at them, pulled a chair over and sat down. "I can see that you are hiding a lot of things from me."

Penny stood there blankly, in a trance, with a complicated expression.

Vernon collapsed helplessly on the broken and messy dining table.

"Oh, well, since they've already written to you, you don't know why you mastered magic." After a long time, Penny sighed, pulled a chair over and sat down, "If you want to know, I'll tell you."

"Your parents, they are actually wizards."

"Wizards..." Harry raised his eyebrows and couldn't help but interrupt, "My mother is also a wizard?"

Penny nodded, "Yes."

"You're her sister, aren't you a witch?" Harry demanded.

Penny's face froze.

This reminded her of the letters she sent when she was young. The gentle writing style contained cold rejections that shattered her fantasies.

With a puff.

He felt stabbed hard in the heart.