HOGWARTS THE RETURN OF HARRY FROM THE DEMON HUNTERS

Untitled Part 8 Who's that greasy-headed kelpie?

　A cheer erupted from the long table belonging to Gryffindor.

　　"We have Potter!"

　　"We have Potter!"

　　The fact that the Savior was going to be enrolled in school had been very much on the minds of the younger wizards at Hogwarts - each of them had a different vision of the Savior.

　　But without exception, none of them were supposed to be what Harry was now - skinny, pathetic, with only his aura set off by those cat pupils.

　　A savior should be somewhat legendary.

　　Every good student in every house had tried to find the legacy of the Big Four.

　　Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, Ravenclaw's Crown, Hufflepuff's Golden Cup ......

　　The Lion's House was no exception.

　　They were most eager to find the legendary Gryffindor sword, but never heard of anyone discovering the secret treasure of Gryffindor.

　　Until today--

　　Who would have thought that the Gryffindor Sword would be hidden in the Branch Hat.

　　No more daring young lion would have wandered into the Headmaster's office at night to give his head away for nothing.

　　Harry nodded his head towards them in a chatty expression of thanks, and carried the silver sword towards the table.

　　He was hastily stopped by the hat, "That rude little lion, give me back my sword."

　　McGonagall helped, "Yes, Mr. Potter, the Gryffindor sword does not belong to you."

　　"I'm just borrowing it back to look at it." Harry's face didn't change as he made up the blind story off the top of his head, "Mr. Branch Hat said to pull it out only if there's a need for it, which proves that I need it now."

　　Professor McGonagall was stunned.

　　It seemed ...... like such a thing.

　　The Branch Hat croaked twice, "That just proves your Gryffindor status, my dear little sir, shove it back in, it's empty in there and I'm not used to it."

　　"I can get you a stick about the same size." Harry tried to haggle, blacksmiths were hard to find in this world, and a masterwork weapon that would be excellent in the world of demon hunters was not something he wanted to let go of.

　　The Branch Hat hated to jump up and hit Harry on the head, "Can a stick be the same as a sword, you haven't passed the trials yet, this sword doesn't belong to you right now."

　　Harry tried to struggle a few more times.

　　"Alright Harry." Principal Dumbledore spoke up, he pushed up his glasses and had a wonderful look in his eyes, "Come on give the sword back to the poor old hat, it's the only old friend he has left."

　　The hat muttered, "Albus, you're my old friend too."

　　"I remember when you presided over the Branch."

　　"You have seven years left, which is more than enough time to figure out how to actually own the sword." Dumbledore's mouth mingled with a smile, "Isn't that right, little Mr. Gryffindor by nature?"

　　A louder, less veiled snort escaped the teachers' table.

　　Harry looked over.

　　The black robes, greasy head, and kelp hair were looking straight at himself with disgust in his eyes.