I Feel I Need Two Swords

"Oh, I'm afraid not." Petunia wore a forced smile. "Wizards... not everyone can be a wizard, even the children of wizards aren't guaranteed to be one."

Harry nodded, his expression unreadable. "Then please, tell me what you know about Hogwarts and the world of wizards."

Petunia stuttered through her explanation.

Vernon finally regained some strength. He scanned the room, only to realize with a sinking heart that his double-barreled shotgun was in the bedroom, not the kitchen.

Half an hour later.

Harry finished listening to Petunia's long-winded account.

It was a strange and novel world—wizards here actually required a small wooden stick as a casting medium; without it, they lost their ability to cast spells.

While sorceresses in the world of the Witcher also required various foci for certain spells, they possessed others that could be cast without any medium at all.

Furthermore...

The power level was not particularly high.

According to Petunia's description, it was limited to the convenience of cleaning house—though, admittedly, that might just be the perspective of a housewife viewing wizardry.

Still, it was fascinating.

To freely alter the form of external objects, even turning a piece of wood into an animal.

Could magic truly reach such heights?

"The letter says I must use an owl to send my reply," Harry said, head bowed as he read the contents. "What is an owl? Is that a wizard's affectionate term for a postman?"

"Or is it... the kind of owl that goes 'hoot'?"

"The latter," Petunia replied, her expression complex.

Harry nodded and offered a faint smile. "Then, my dear Aunt Petunia, do you have an owl? I'm afraid I'll need to borrow one."

Vernon shook his head in terror. "We are a normal family! Why would we have something like that!"

Normal...

Harry raised an eyebrow.

In this world, were wizards viewed as "freaks" by humanity, just as witchers were?

"It seems I shall have to find a way myself." He stood up, pushed the door open, and walked out.

Though he did not know the mechanics of owl-post, the traits of living creatures rarely differed much.

Just as every horse owned by the White Wolf was named Roach, and every girlfriend he knew of the White Wolf was a sorceress.

Stepping outside, he saw an owl perched on the garden fence. Hearing the movement, it swiveled its head, staring intently at Harry.

"It seems you are to be my postman," Harry said with a gentle smile, extending his hand. "Might I invite you inside for a moment? A long journey requires a better place to rest, and you can wait while I write my reply, yes?"

The owl hooted twice and hopped onto Harry's arm.

Petunia did not seem like a person who cared much for wizards, but one had to admit, she was a competent housewife.

The owl food she prepared won the favor of this Scottish Round-Faced Fat Chicken.

The letter was sent.

Hogwarts' response came faster than Harry expected. By the afternoon, a thunderous pounding echoed at the door. Vernon went to open it, only to find a giant standing on the threshold.

"Hello, I'm from Hogwarts, er... an employee sent to escort Harry, Rubeus Hagrid." The giant spoke with a hint of awkwardness, but his sheer size, his appearance, and the way he grinned nearly gave Vernon a heart attack.

"Oh, right, another freak," Vernon muttered. "Come in."

Hagrid squeezed into the house with difficulty. Seeing Harry standing in the living room, he sniffled, his voice thick with emotion. "Oh, Harry, the last time I saw you, you were just a baby."

"You look just like your father, oh, and your eyes too. He had those same golden-brown eyes."

"Thank you," Harry nodded, taking half a step back.

A massive frame always brought a sense of oppression.

Not to mention...

Harry's current body was exceptionally thin and small, even by human standards.

He instinctively reached for his shoulder, finding it empty—a terrible state of affairs. He didn't even have a sword; he would have settled for a steel one, let alone silver.

Human?

It didn't seem so. It was difficult for a human to grow to such a massive size—their skeletal structure wouldn't support it.

Was he a sub-human? A race like a halfling or an elf? Or perhaps a troll or a giant?

"Greetings, sir," Harry breathed in deeply, his hand hovering near his waist, ready to cast a Sign at a moment's notice. For an ordinary witcher, even one as strong as the White Wolf or Letho, the Aard Sign could not significantly affect a creature of such size.

He was an exception.

Even a giant could not resist the Aard Sign he unleashed.

"Are you a professor at Hogwarts?"

"Is Hogwarts a school that accepts non-human races?"

Hagrid's hair stood on end—literally, his bushy hair exploded outward—and his face flushed a deep red. "Oh, non-human species? My poor little Harry, how could you ever get such an idea?"

"I am a human, a perfectly normal human, just with a larger frame."

"Hogwarts is a fine school, without any of those strange werewolves, giants, or similar creatures."

Is... that so?

Harry remained skeptical in his heart.

Hagrid took a deep breath, tossing thoughts of "half-giant" and the like to the back of his mind, and squeezed his bulky body into the sofa to sit down. He called out toward the Dursleys, who were hiding in the kitchen: "Hello there, could I trouble you for a pot of tea?"

"If it's black tea, an extra half-spoon of milk would be even better."

Petunia immediately pulled her head back.

Hagrid turned his gaze back to the standing Harry: "Sit down, lad, let's have a proper chat."

Harry hesitated for a beat, nodded, and sat down on the other sofa.

"I'm not a professor at Hogwarts; I am the Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts," Hagrid began cheerfully. "It wasn't easy to secure this job from Headmaster Dumbledore; the other professors all wanted to be the one to fetch you."

"But I am one of the people Headmaster Dumbledore trusts most, and he entrusted this task to me."

He held his head high, looking quite proud.

Harry nodded and pulled the Hogwarts supply list from his pocket, laying it on the table: "How should I go about preparing these things for school?"

"Sir, will you be taking me to purchase them?"

"Though I hate to say it, I have no money, and I'm afraid my uncle's family wouldn't be willing to pay for it."

In the kitchen.

Vernon shouted loudly: "I won't pay a penny! Let him go to some loony bin to learn a bunch of loony tricks!"

This fat uncle feared the power of magic.

But his mouth certainly didn't.

Under the Aard sign, the table had shattered, yet his mouth remained perfectly intact.

"How dare you speak of wizards that way." Hagrid's fists tightened, his voice laced with a hint of anger.

Harry waved his hand: "Calm down."

"In a situation like mine, will Hogwarts prepare these things for me?"

Harry's words were effective; Hagrid let out a heavy huff and turned his head back: "Oh, no, Harry, you wouldn't use their money anyway. Muggle money is no good in our wizarding world."

"Actually, your parents—you do know about your parents, don't you?"

"They left you a considerable inheritance."

Inheritance?

Right!

Harry suddenly snapped to his senses; how could he have forgotten something so important?

He whipped his head around to look at Aunt Petunia, who was emerging from the kitchen carrying a teapot: "Aunt Petunia, what about the inheritance my parents left me? How much do you have?"

Before Aunt Petunia could speak.

Hagrid stepped in to explain: "No, no, no, the inheritance isn't in the hands of these Muggles, and Mr. Dumbledore wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving those things with them."

"It has all been kept safe for you by Mr. Dumbledore."