Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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The cheerful chatter and laughter faded behind Harry as he walked away. The dinner banquet was nearing its end, and the leftovers on the table were far from appetizing to him. While the post-meal desserts tasted great, they were no substitute for a filling main course.

Reaching the kitchens on the first basement level from Hogwarts' main entrance required a slight detour. The shortest route went through the Great Hall and descended via the side staircase, but now was not the time to interrupt the banquet.

Hagrid had prepared fresh ingredients for the farewell feast before Christmas, including several New Orleans Fire Chickens, which had mysteriously broken their legs. Luckily for him, Hagrid managed to "rescue" them. These creatures, with legs a full 2.8 meters long, could have easily tripped up the dream girl Harry once fantasized about. Their meat was lean and tender, a hundred times better than those dreadful turkeys that could sit through an entire Christmas holiday with nothing but a scratch to show for it.

Although Hogwarts had many young witches and wizards, even they couldn't consume several tons of chicken legs in one sitting. Tonight's small dining hall offered a full fried chicken platter, and as Harry walked, he mentally calculated how close the chicken wing-stuffed rice he'd requested from the house-elves would resemble the flavors he envisioned. With diced ham, mushrooms, and other delicious fillings, it couldn't possibly turn out badly.

But as Harry continued his steps, his once cheerful pace gradually slowed. An inexplicable chill crept up his spine, rousing him from his food-filled daydreams.

He didn't stop walking, but his eyes narrowed dangerously. His left hand gripped his ebony wand, while his right hand brushed his waist, pulling out a shimmering, silvery cloak. In less than a second, Harry vanished into the empty corridor.

Yet the sound of footsteps persisted. The suit of armor Harry's ebony wand pointed at instantly transformed, morphing into an animated puppet identical to his appearance, mimicking his movements perfectly. Even the sound of footsteps didn't falter. Without mastering wandless magic, Transfiguration was one of the few spells that required no incantations or sound, making it highly discreet. The seamless swap between Harry and the puppet seemed practiced a thousand times over. Even if someone had been watching, unless they were staring intently, they'd likely only perceive a brief blur, mistaking it for a trick of the eye.

Thanks to reflexes and agility far beyond ordinary humans, Harry's decoy left almost no openings.

After all, who wouldn't enjoy playing the role of a cunning trickster if given the chance?

Instead of hiding behind the puppet, Harry rolled silently to the side the moment he turned invisible. Swiftly removing his shoes and socks, he ensured that no telltale odor would betray him—even after just finishing some exercise.

Quietly and swiftly, he moved past the decoy. While the Invisibility Cloak wasn't perfect, only a select few could see through it. If something—or someone—was lying in wait to surprise him, he certainly wouldn't let them have their way. As a mischievous prankster, Harry was always the one to do the surprising, never the other way around.

The corridor air was faintly tinged with the scent of food wafting from the Great Hall. Tonight's dessert likely included raspberry jam pudding, but that didn't matter. Concentrating on the subtle details, Harry caught a faintly familiar scent.

It was the metallic tang of blood mixed with the distinct musk of reptiles, blended with fragrances from shampoo and body wash: olives, bellflower leaves, soap pods, calming incense, and snake-tongue grass. It was a signature scent unique to Slytherin.

He didn't need much thought—an image of someone immediately popped into his mind.

*Cassandra.*

The moment he stepped past the edge of the T-junction corridor, his eyes darting rapidly to both sides, Harry froze. A biting chill raced up his spine, crawling along his raised hairs to his neck and brain. His pupils shrank to pinpricks as he locked eyes with a pair of bright yellow serpent-like pupils glowing in the dim corridor. In that instant, the bone-deep sensation of death crept up to envelop him.

The stiffness and shudder lasted only a moment. The Invisibility Cloak shielded him from all magical intrusion. Whether it was a curse or spell, anything rooted in magic was powerless to penetrate the thin, silvery veil.

Perhaps this was why the cloak was said to have the power to deceive Death itself. Even the most enigmatic divination methods of the magical world couldn't locate someone hidden beneath its folds.

As his heartbeat pounded like a drum, his blood and magic surged in perfect rhythm. The synchronized pulses heightened his senses as fresh blood infused his magic with newfound vitality. A sharp, needle-like pain shot through him, causing veins on Harry's forehead to bulge as he prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

As with countless previous instances of magical body refinement, the familiar sting did not cause Harry to collapse or lose consciousness. Accustomed to this pain, he entered a state of pure focus, discarding all stray thoughts. It was as if he could hear the sound of blood rushing through his veins—a rustling like the wind sweeping across a wheat field, or the roaring waves of a boiling ocean, relentless and unyielding.

His body, suddenly bulkier and more muscular, nearly strained the limits of the Invisibility Cloak's concealment. The instant his foot struck the ground, a burst of force shattered the hard, dark bricks beneath him. In a fraction of a second—faster than most could react—a wild, primal figure that combined the power, agility, and raw strength of a leopard, tiger, and bear sprang forward. In a single leap, Harry crossed over ten meters of space. His clenched fist sliced through the air, carrying with it a howling black wind.

With a resounding bang, his strike landed, sending the figure flying backward midair. The body folded into a sharp V-shape, nearly snapped in half, as it tumbled away. The once-bright yellow snake-like eyes were now stained crimson.

"Trying to kill me?"

A cold, merciless voice echoed down the empty corridor.

"Then prepare to die yourself."

Before the figure flying back could even hit the ground, a thick, powerful hand caught the back of her head and yanked her out of midair. In one brutal moment, her shoulders, elbows, wrists, pelvis, knees, ankles, and even jaw were subjected to devastating, bone-shattering blows.

"Blinded and broken!"

The deep, muffled crack of the ebony wand firing its spell reverberated through the hallway. Only after the incantation had finished did a delayed scream of pain escape her throat, forced out as though by sheer violence.

"Don't die on me just yet."

A syringe filled with a healing potion mixed with a slow-release agent pierced into her heart from the back. Within seconds, the powerful potion stemmed the bleeding caused by shattered bones and torn flesh. However, the slow-release agent restricted the healing process, keeping her alive but teetering on the brink of survival. For the next thirty minutes, unless she sustained further major injuries, she would not die.

Thanks to Snape's meticulous and uncompromising guidance, Harry had developed an extraordinary precision in potion dosage.

"Fawkes, I have something very important I need your help with. Can you come out?"

Harry called out cautiously, uncertain if such a summons would even reach Fawkes.

A second after his words faded, a warm burst of fire flared up before Harry.

"Can you take me and her to the Headmaster's office? Then please find Professor Dumbledore for me."

Fawkes glanced curiously at the figure whose face Harry had covered with the Invisibility Cloak. With a slight nod, the phoenix wrapped the pair in its gold and crimson flames, vanishing them from the corridor.

The suit of armor Harry had transfigured earlier returned to its original form. Bewildered, the enchanted armor scratched its iron helmet as though in confusion, then turned around and resumed its sentry duty, as though nothing had happened.

(End of Chapter)