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Harry Potter: Returning from Azeroth
Chapter 8: Where Are My Warhammer and Shield? What About My Chainmail? (2)

Chapter 8: Where Are My Warhammer and Shield? What About My Chainmail? (2)

"I know you're a bit nervous, Harry, but you have to forgive them," Hagrid said, patting Harry's shoulder with what he thought was a light touch. "If it weren't for you defeating You-Know-Who the night you were born, no one knows what the wizarding world would look like now. They're truly grateful to you—really grateful. Like I said, you're a celebrity. I think you're even more famous than the Minister of Magic."

"A baby can't possibly defeat an adult wizard, Hagrid," Harry said calmly, unmoved by the admiration and praise from those people earlier. "It must have been some magic my parents used to protect me."

No one knew better than Harry himself what he used to be like.

"You never know," Hagrid said, eyeing Harry up and down with a chuckle. "I’ve got a newspaper clipping saved back at my place. You’ll see it when you start school."

"What newspaper?" Harry was momentarily confused, but Hagrid decided to keep it a mystery and said nothing more.

"See that trash bin, Harry?" Hagrid stopped in front of a wall and raised his hand. "Count three bricks up, then two bricks across—there."

With a gentle tap of his umbrella tip on the final brick, the wall began shifting and retracting in all directions, soon revealing a whole new world.

"Welcome, Harry, welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid announced, though he couldn't spot any sign of shock on Harry's face.

Ahead lay a winding cobblestone street that stretched out of sight, lined on both sides by shops filled with all sorts of unique and magical items.

Unlike the Muggle streets outside, the people here dressed in ways that suited the image of wizards perfectly.

Dumbledore was right—every young wizard's first exploration of the magical world shouldn't be ruined. Even Harry found himself excited by the mystery and wonder of this strange new realm.

Adventure and discovery had always been among his favorite pursuits.

In front of one shop, a magical cauldron stirred itself; a wizard travel agency advertised terrifying journeys promising unprecedented experiences; a parchment store displayed rolls that unrolled and flattened themselves while a quill scribbled away on them...

But as a druid, what truly rooted Harry in place were the herb shops.

Too many unfamiliar herbs were displayed there. One mushroom, though plucked and boxed, still hopped around nonstop. Another herb, called Spider Egg Bloom, had green berries on both sides and roots that looked exactly like a spider's legs.

Harry's attention was completely absorbed by these magical herbs. In Azeroth, two of his key professions were herbalism and blacksmithing. Herbalism was something he picked up from the tauren, providing extra rewards during his global adventures and offering materials for blacksmithing, which also helped him earn some money.

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Harry particularly enjoyed crafting his own gear, believing it fit him better that way.

After several unsuccessful attempts to drag Harry away, Hagrid finally resorted to lifting him up and carrying him out of the herb shop. Harry, stiff as a board, kept his eyes locked on the wondrous herbs inside.

Despite this, Hagrid still had to cover the cost for Harry to bring back a batch of lavender hibiscus and sage—since Harry hadn't yet withdrawn money from Gringotts.

"Honestly, Harry, I'm starting to think you’d be perfect for Hufflepuff," Hagrid muttered as he finally set Harry down after walking a good distance to ensure he wouldn’t run back. "Professor Sprout would love your passion for herbs, though... well, all right."

"It's just a hobby," Harry said dismissively, raising a sprig of lavender hibiscus to his nose. "Do centaurs really use this in divination? Do you know the exact process?"

Harry's decision to buy those herbs was prompted by the shopkeeper's claim that centaurs would burn lavender hibiscus and sage together to divine the future.

According to the shopkeeper, centaurs—magical creatures (though Hagrid whispered they wouldn’t appreciate being called that)—resembled the centaurs in Harry’s memories, though they seemed far more peaceful and weaker here.

In Harry’s past experience, the best centaur was typically a dead one.

However, in this world, centaurs were listed as magical creatures protected by wizards, and their divination skills were highly sought after—and expensive.

Hiring a centaur for divination required not only significant material costs but also the right connections.

But that wasn’t the point. The point was that, as a shaman and a seer recognized by the tauren tribe, Harry also possessed the ability to predict the future and foresee omens.

Some of these prophecies came from whispers of the elements, warnings from elemental beings, or guidance from ancestral spirits. Others arose directly from Harry himself—intangible, spiritual premonitions.

This not only made his prophecies more accurate but also made him a thorn in the side of many.

Due to the independent and elusive nature of elemental spirits, shamans in the tauren tribe traditionally had to interpret and convey the elements' messages themselves.

Because of this intermediary role, misunderstandings occasionally occurred, such as misinterpreting elemental warnings or ancestral guidance. There were even instances where demons disguised themselves as elemental spirits, leading orcs astray.

Sometimes these interpretations seemed cryptic, lacking a direct connection for those unable to hear the spirits themselves.

But Harry was different.

Very different.

Unlike traditional shamans, Harry could directly convey the whispers of the elements into understandable speech.

Under certain conditions, he could even project brief glimpses of the future onto a water screen for everyone to see, offering them a clear vision of what lay ahead.

This unique ability naturally drew suspicion from some wizards—well, let’s be honest, many believed those so-called future glimpses were illusions conjured by Harry’s magic. But that skepticism diminished after a bronze dragon named Chromie paid a visit.

Bronze dragons were the guardians of the timeline in Azeroth, their dragonflight led by one of the great dragon aspects.

Harry’s extraordinary prophetic abilities set him apart from other shamans, allowing him to rise above rivals and earn the title of Seer—a figure tasked with guiding the tauren tribe, safeguarding them from danger, and charting their path forward.

Harry once wondered why his powers manifested so differently and uniquely from other shamans after embracing their path.

But now he understood—it all stemmed from the unique magic within him, originating from another world.

Such extraordinary magic.

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