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HRA# CHAPTER 202
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 17:28:50 +0000 UTC“Help?” Harry said with a half-smirk. “Help with what, exactly?”
“Of course, helping you chase girls, Harry!” Sirius declared with mock seriousness. “You’re wasting your potential right now. Look at all those pretty, passionate girls out there! I get it—you think you’re too mature for that, and maybe you don’t care for the younger ones’ tastes—but what about the older girls?”
“Those grown, mature, attractive upperclassmen—surely they’re fair game?” Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh. “No matter how mature your mind is, your body’s still that of a twelve-year-old. You’ve got to have some hobbies that suit your age.”
“Take a page from James’s book. On the train to Hogwarts in his first year, he locked eyes with Lily—love at first sight—and embarked on a seven-year pursuit. Lucky for him, he succeeded in the end.”
“And?” Harry replied, his tone noncommittal.
“I’m not just blowing smoke here. When it comes to chasing girls, I’ve got authority to speak. Back in my school days, I was quite the hit with the ladies,” Sirius said with a wink. “I can teach you how to woo a girl, how to win her over, make her fall for you. If you wanted, Harry, even girls with boyfriends wouldn’t be out of reach.”
“…Good thing Snape isn’t here today, or you two would probably be at each other’s throats again,” Harry sighed deeply. He turned his head and called out to the bodyguard in his office. “Dotty, give my godfather his medicine.”
“Wait, Harry!” Sirius’s face turned green at the mention of the potion. Having experienced it before, he didn’t bother with futile resistance and instead bolted for the door—but he was caught in an instant.
Four earth elementals, disguised as statues, stood guard in Harry’s office. They were there to prevent reckless students from sneaking in and tampering with things that could harm them. Now, they became Sirius’s nightmare.
“Wait, Harry! You can’t do this!” Sirius struggled as he was hoisted up like a dog, but a wizard’s physical strength was no match for an earth elemental’s grip. He could only watch helplessly as one of them brought a bottle of Snape’s meticulously brewed potion—laced with malice and glee—closer and closer.
The potion was effective, a true lifesaver, but its taste was deadly enough to ruin anyone’s day. One bottle in the morning, and the rest of the day felt like being torn apart and stitched back together, with a stomachache to boot.
—Sirius’s firsthand review after his first dose.
“Of course I can,” Harry said irritably. “Your body still needs treatment to recover. After you drink this, you’ll at least sleep quietly for a bit, and I won’t have to worry about you running off to wreak havoc on some student or professor while I’m teaching.”
Harry had no interest in hearing about his godfather romancing some upperclassman. Yes, he thought Sirius should settle down, find a wife, and carry on the Black family line—but that didn’t mean he was okay with Sirius charming a Hogwarts student into becoming his bride.
“No! Harry! No!” Sirius shouted in despair. “You’ll regret this! Harry! I’m the godfather! I—glug glug glug—”
No more words came.
Sirius’s final struggles were drowned out by the sound of the potion being poured down his throat. Under Harry’s watchful gaze, the earth elementals carried him upstairs, where he promptly fell into a peaceful slumber.
It had been like this ever since Sirius moved into Harry’s office… or rather, since the moment he laid eyes on Snape. Before Harry could even process or prepare, Sirius and Snape had escalated from a two-sentence exchange to a full-blown wand duel.
And it wasn’t a one-time thing. They’d even sneak off without Harry, arranging secret times and places for their duels.
Normally, Snape’s temperament wouldn’t allow for such antics, but it was clear he’d been itching to teach Sirius a lesson for decades—since their school days, in fact.
And now, Sirius was on his own.
Shaking his head, Harry pushed aside thoughts of the trouble Sirius, his father, and their friends had caused back then. Halloween was approaching, and as a Hogwarts professor, he had to help decorate the castle—a task far different from the students who only got to enjoy the festivities.
“Do you think they’ll like the pumpkins I grew, Harry?” Hagrid asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
To add some flair to this year’s Halloween, Hagrid had grown a massive batch of pumpkins—giant pumpkins, to be precise.
“I think they’ll love them. These pumpkins are way beyond normal size,” Harry said, examining them closely. “Did you use an Engorgement Charm?”
The pumpkin patch made Harry feel like he’d stumbled into a giant’s realm. Even the smallest pumpkin was nearly as tall as Hagrid. For the shorter, underage students, these pumpkins were like castles, big enough for them to climb inside and play.
“Ahem, keep it down, Harry. You know I’m not supposed to use magic,” Hagrid said nervously, glancing at the pink umbrella by his door. When he was expelled from Hogwarts years ago, his wand was snapped, and he was banned from using magic.
But clearly, Hagrid had been using it on the sly, and no one had noticed.
“I think you might’ve overdone it,” Harry remarked. “No amount of fertilizer or care could make pumpkins grow this big. Anyone with eyes can tell you used magic.”
“Damn,” Hagrid muttered. “What about saying it’s Professor Sprout’s secret growth potion?”
“That could explain some of it,” Harry nodded. “But you could also say the earth elementals made the soil more fertile.”
“They can do that?” Hagrid asked, surprised. “I mean, I used Engorgement and Growth Charms, but these pumpkins still drained the life out of this plot. I reckon anything I plant here next year won’t grow half as big.”
“Of course they can. It’s one of their specialties,” Harry said confidently. “Earth elementals can enrich barren soil and purify tainted land. They’re experts at it.”
“That’s brilliant,” Hagrid said earnestly. “So, what’re you planning to decorate?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Harry admitted, a bit troubled. “What about filling the castle with ghosts? It fits the Halloween vibe. Or maybe pumpkin ghosts?”
“Sounds a bit spooky,” Hagrid said after a moment’s thought. “But ghosts are already all over the castle. The students might not find it novel. I thought you’d want to show off some of your shaman flair.”
“Yeah, you’re right… Candy’s a must, of course. I’ve already sent an order for treacle toffee,” Harry said, recalling the Christmas festivities he’d experienced in Azeroth. “How about I talk to Professor McGonagall about setting up a war game for the students tomorrow?”
“War game?” Hagrid blinked.
“With your giant pumpkins,” Harry said, patting the massive gourd in front of him. “They’d make perfect castles or war machines. We could split the students into two teams—or more—and have them compete to destroy each other’s pumpkins.”
“Oh… those little rascals will love that idea,” Hagrid said, grinning as he pictured it. “They’re always up for a competitive challenge.”
“I could even make a special costume as a prize—how about a Headless Horseman set? Like the one from the legend,” Harry said, borrowing from a familiar tale.
“You’ll need to check with McGonagall first. If she agrees, you’re golden,” Hagrid said with a laugh. “Honestly, I’m looking forward to it.”
“Then it’s settled. Save these pumpkins for me—I’m off to find McGonagall,” Harry said, clapping Hagrid on the arm.
“No problem,” Hagrid agreed heartily. “Hold on—looks like our little hunters are back.”
Following Hagrid’s gaze, Harry saw his apprentices emerging from the Forbidden Forest, led by an adult centaur warrior.
Despite past tensions, the centaur tribe led by Tryth had grown closer to the wizards, perhaps due to the elemental bonds. Their interactions had become frequent, breaking from old traditions.
Harry’s apprentices were still working on their assignment to hunt eight-eyed giant spiders. Whenever they ventured out, Tryth sent centaur warriors to guide and, if needed, protect them. The spider venom they collected was sold through the centaur tribe, ensuring no one traced the dangerous activity back to Hogwarts’ young witches and wizards.
In return, Tryth’s tribe gained benefits, including supplies they couldn’t get in the Forbidden Forest. Over time, Hogwarts students’ attitudes toward the centaurs shifted from curiosity and fear to familiarity and friendship. Some even joined their apprentice friends to barbecue and hang out with centaurs they’d befriended.
Occasionally, students would ask apprentices to pass gifts to the centaurs, improving their quality of life and quieting complaints from traditionalists who disapproved of Tryth’s openness.
The centaur leading Harry’s apprentices now was Ronan. Spotting Harry and Hagrid, they approached.
“Looks like you’ve won a glorious victory,” Harry said with a smile, eyeing the massive eight-eyed spider corpse being carried by an earth elemental. “Well done. Very well done.”
In tauren tradition, hunting was a source of great honor, and hunters held a revered place in their history and culture. The Great Hunt was a cornerstone of their spiritual heritage. While Harry didn’t plan to recreate such rituals in human society, seeing his apprentices show courage and skill in hunting warmed his heart.
That’s the tauren spirit.
“Thank you, mentor, but this spider wasn’t taken down by any one of us alone,” Draco said, a touch of regret in his voice.
Draco Malfoy had changed dramatically from the frail boy of last year. His skin, now faintly red from sun exposure, was rougher, his hands calloused. He looked sharp and capable, his lean muscles earning the envy of other students in the castle.
Even Lucius, when reporting work progress to Harry in private, had thanked him for Draco’s transformation. The Malfoy heir had become a true man.
“No need to feel regret, little colt,” Ronan said. “When facing formidable prey, the tribe’s warriors often hunt as a group, and the honor belongs to all.”
“Exactly,” Harry nodded in agreement. “Working together isn’t shameful. This victory is yours to share.”
“I understand, mentor,” Draco said with a steady smile. “But do you have any other weapons? My current ones feel too light lately.”
As he spoke, Draco unhooked the two warhammers from his belt. After careful thought and communing with the elements, he had chosen the path of an enhancement shaman under Harry’s guidance.
With limited energy, most shamans had to pick a specialization and master it, unless they were exceptionally gifted. Enhancement shamans revered totem power and wielded weapons infused with elemental energy. Draco relished the visceral thrill of combat, though this worried Lucius a bit.
“Too light? That means your body’s grown stronger again,” Harry said, squeezing Draco’s arm approvingly. “You’re at an age where your strength grows like a balloon inflating. Eat plenty of meat—don’t starve yourself.”
It was the oldest advice from the tribal elders.
T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
