Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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Five plump wild chickens, two gray-haired fat rabbits, and a four-to-five-month-old lamb—that's what Harry had hunted today. Without magic, carrying all these items back would have been quite a challenge, but thanks to the levitation charm, it was manageable.

Uncle Vernon, unaware of the events in the mountains, smiled as he saw Harry returning with a full load. He helped by tossing the game into the bed of the pickup truck.

"For dinner, how about making some yellow braised chicken, two lotus leaf chickens, ginger rabbit, and roasting the lamb whole? Does that sound good, Uncle Vernon?"

"That sounds perfect; it all sounds delicious."

Uncle Vernon pressed the gas pedal, speeding down the mountain with Harry.

As soon as they arrived home, Dudley opened the door and came out to help. He effortlessly carried the lamb by himself and used the iron rack in the yard, which was specially welded for butchering deer and sheep. Dudley was quite skilled at this task.

"Someone delivered a gift for you, Harry. It's a birthday present from Jason—a pair of beautiful decorative antlers. What kind of animal are they from? They look like two swords; they're really impressive."

Dudley, holding a water hose in one hand and a meat-cleaving knife in the other, asked Harry.

"They're from magical creatures. We'll each hang one on the wall," Harry replied.

"Great, I was just thinking about that," Dudley said with a grin, clearly pleased. "I'll handle the lamb. Once it's ready, I'll get it inside for you."

"Make sure to chop off the head. I've been craving braised lamb head for a long time."

"Hmm?" Dudley sucked in his breath. "You eat the head too?"

"Why not? You've enjoyed Scottish black pudding, so what's the problem? Just make sure to clean off the hair and scrape out the earwax," Harry said.

"Ugh, don't talk about it," Dudley said with a shudder. "I won't be eating that."

"That's even better," Harry chuckled.

As Harry carried the rabbits and wild chickens inside, he saw the pair of sharp antlers from the bovid, looking very stylish and making an excellent addition to his collection.

After working from 4:30 p.m. to 7:00 p.m., the sumptuous dinner was finally ready. Aunt Petunia and Grandma had made a large cake, Grandpa had prepared fish soup from his catch, and Harry had handled most of the rest: ginger rabbit, lotus leaf chicken, yellow braised chicken chunks, roasted lamb, and a special braised lamb head for the birthday guest of honor.

After two hours of careful braising, the lamb head was tender and flavorful. As the birthday dinner began, everyone watched Harry intently, seemingly eager to see how he would handle the "demon head."

In folklore, the goat was seen as the embodiment of demons. This belief was actually a cover-up by those who had committed unspeakable acts, dating back centuries. An incident involving a soft-bottomed ewe led to the notion that goats were demonic, leading to an absurd myth that they tempted people to sin. The innocent goat was unfairly vilified, a reflection of moral decay.

"Eating this has its own technique and method," Harry explained, rubbing his hands together as he began.

"First, pry open the mouth and separate the jawbone. The braised goat skin is soft and smooth, slipping right in with a slurp."

After savoring a piece of meat, Harry showed his approval with a thumbs-up. "Fantastic."

He then pried open the goat's nasal bone, extracted the crispy soft cartilage, and chewed it with a satisfying crunch. He also scooped out the two ping-pong ball-sized goat eyes. "These burst with juice and are the most flavorful part. Plus, they give you a boost in vision."

Harry's enjoyment was so evident that it made everyone salivate just watching him. "There's a trick to eating the brain. Remember, we removed the jawbone. Take a piece and insert the small end into the spinal hole, then gently pry it."

"Look, you don't need to twist open the skull to get the brain out. It's soft, slightly sweet, and quite delicious."

The onlookers were astonished as Harry reduced the goat head to a pile of bones in less than two minutes, marveling at his skill.

"Looks like it's not that bad after all?" Dudley asked, biting his fork.

"It's really tasty. Next time I hunt a lamb, you should try it," Harry offered.

"Then I'll definitely try it," Dudley said, looking to Uncle Vernon, who nodded in agreement. "Let's start before the food gets cold."

"I want a mud-baked chicken!" Dudley quickly exclaimed, clearly eager for this dish.

"It's lotus leaf chicken," Harry corrected him.

"That's not the same! It's wrapped in foil, not mud. Where are the lotus leaves?" Dudley mumbled with his mouth full of greasy food. "Dad, the chicken's butt is the best part; here, you can have it."

"Can't you at least give me a chicken leg, you little rascal!" Uncle Vernon grumbled.

"The legs are for Grandpa and Grandma," Dudley said, ignoring his father's complaint.

The last day of July passed in a cheerful family gathering, and the sweltering August quickly slipped by. September 1st arrived, marking the day Harry was to head off to school.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were up early. Aunt Petunia made a hearty breakfast for Harry in the kitchen. With him heading off to Hogwarts, she knew she wouldn't get another breakfast like this until Christmas—featuring German pork knuckles, French fish stew, and more—none of which were British dishes. The extravagant breakfast left Harry stuffed and burping.

After the lengthy breakfast, which lasted until nine o'clock, Uncle Vernon drove Harry to King's Cross Station.

"Be careful over there. Don't be a hero, but if someone bullies you, make sure to fight back!" Uncle Vernon said, hugging Harry and patting his shoulder.

"Remember to eat on time, exercise, and don't neglect your nutrition," Aunt Petunia added, holding Harry's hand and chattering about various small details. Her eyes were a bit damp, showing her reluctance.

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of myself."

Harry nodded obediently, appreciating the affection. After all, after his parents' passing, his aunt and uncle were his last close family in the world.

"Wait for me to come back, Dudley. See you at Christmas!"

The two brothers shared a firm hug that made their ribs crack, startling nearby passersby who thought they might be enemies.

"Hahaha!"

But neither of them felt it was odd; they laughed heartily.

"Well, I'm off. Take care of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, Dudley."

"Leave it to me. You just focus on Hogwarts," Dudley replied.

Harry waved goodbye, then, carrying Hedwig's owl cage and his black dragon-hide backpack, he walked towards the barrier between Platform 9 and Platform 10.

His figure suddenly flickered and vanished from the Dursleys' sight.

"Magical magic," Dudley mused, smiling at the now-empty wall. There was a hint of envy in his eyes, but he wasn't jealous. As his mother had said, it was a magical world, but his own world could be exciting too.

"Safe travels, Harry."

(End of Chapter)