Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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After the Great Troll Uprising of 1892, the Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA) relocated its headquarters for the fifth time in history, moving from Washington, D.C., to New York's Woolworth Building. During the construction of this iconic skyscraper, wizards discreetly expanded the space using enchantments like the Undetectable Extension Charm.

This building is shared by both Muggles and wizards, but with the correct incantation, it transforms to reveal the magical space used by MACUSA. The only outward indication of its magical nature is an owl carving etched above the entrance.

By murmuring the proper spell, stepping through the door changes everything inside.

This is the most conventional way to enter but not the only one.

There are countless ways to knock, but Harry, now transformed into Voldemort's likeness, obviously wouldn't settle for anything low-profile. "If I, the Dark Lord, can't take on England's finest, what makes you think North America's wizards stand a chance?" he thought, determined to create chaos.

Harry's plan was simple: the bigger the mess, the better.

The owl-carved entrance was unobstructed to the naked eye, but to Harry, a dense magical barrier hung before him—a shimmering curtain of power separating the Muggle and wizarding worlds.

With a calm smile, the dashing Dark Lord stopped in front of the entrance and raised his right fist.

"Death Eaters! OPEN THE DOOR!"

His fist, cloaked in iron-gray magical energy, slammed into the magical barrier. With a thunderous explosion, the barrier shattered, sending chunks of flooring flying and kicking up a cloud of debris. The blaring sound of alarms erupted in the wake of the magical blast.

"Rejoice at the arrival of the Dark Lord, my servants!"

Low, guttural chanting followed: "Imperio!" 

Hundreds of Imperius Curses spilled forth like a torrential downpour, invisible to the naked eye. The wizards inside, startled by the deafening explosion, barely had time to focus before their pupils went glassy. The relentless barrage left no room to dodge, striking anyone who could see the entrance.

Harry suppressed heavy breaths; the torrent of curses had drained his magical reserves entirely. Yet, with each step forward, his depleted magic surged back, filling his core like a rushing tide. Forsaking his Obscurial state had been the right choice—his hunger for magical power far exceeded any ordinary wizard's capacity.

Chaos erupted in the grand hall as the controlled wizards simultaneously drew their wands. A cacophony of curses filled the air, and the once-opulent lobby was obliterated in the fray.

"Let's liven things up, shall we? Heh-heh-heh..."

The handsome man strode through the pandemonium as the bewitched wizards charged fearlessly deeper into the building. Explosions echoed as more Aurors arrived, overwhelmed by the frenzied assault. Once colleagues, they now turned on each other mindlessly.

The Unforgivable Curses are banned for a reason. Yet Voldemort used them, not Harry Potter.

The chaos drew the attention of nearly everyone in the building. This disturbance wouldn't last forever—although most Aurors were deployed across the country to maintain public order, MACUSA still had hundreds stationed at headquarters. Within ten minutes, they'd likely regain control.

But ten minutes was all Harry needed.

MACUSA's headquarters had anti-Apparition wards in most areas. Wizards moved between floors using staircases, elevators, and a fully integrated Floo Network. Unlike the British Ministry of Magic, the Woolworth Building stood 792 feet tall, spanning 57 stories. Staircases and elevators alone couldn't handle such traffic.

As the pandemonium spread and MACUSA mobilized its forces, the black-robed figure who had orchestrated the chaos vanished. Moments later, he reappeared at the entrance to the Auror Command Center on the 32nd floor.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

Harry waved at the stationed Aurors. As one reached for his wand, Harry's fist slammed into his gut, incapacitating him instantly. The blow left the Auror doubled over in agony, unable to think through the searing pain.

"Imperio." 

"Lead the way, my friend. We don't have much time, but we've got plenty to do."

The man on the floor struggled to his feet, silently taking off at a jog. He led Harry through several corridors before stopping in front of the detention cells.

"Borco, what are you doing here?" The guard on duty frowned at his colleague. "You look awful—ate some bad hot dogs?"

"Emergency situation, Eck," Borco said hastily, his pale face and sweat-drenched brow lending urgency to his words.

"Don't tell me that ruckus downstairs is headed our way?" Eck asked, reaching out to steady his colleague with little suspicion.

"It is…"

Borco grabbed Eck's arm and immediately pulled the trigger of his wand.

"Stupefy!"

Eck crumpled to the floor.

Without hesitation, Borco let go of his limp colleague, raised the Beretta M9 in his hand, and fired repeatedly. Crimson streaks of Stunning Spells shot out in rapid succession, incapacitating the other unsuspecting Aurors, who soon joined Eck on the floor.

After clearing out all obstacles, Borco decisively turned the wand-shaped pistol toward his own head. With one final flash of red light, he collapsed, unconscious.

"Imperius Curse—so useful," Harry murmured.

The addition of his Awakened magic had significantly amplified the spell's effectiveness. Turning people into allies on a whim made the Imperius Curse both wickedly practical and deeply malicious. Among the three Unforgivable Curses, it stood out as the one black magic that wasn't strictly "dark." It didn't require negative emotions to fuel its power.

Its danger lay solely in the spell itself.

The prisoners in the back cells, witnessing this eerie and surreal assault, were dumbfounded. Their eyes widened, and a chorus of whistles and cheers erupted. These rogues, temporarily detained by MACUSA, acted as if they were celebrating a holiday, shouting and clamoring.

"I heard someone among you has the Lance of Longinus?"

The cheers halted abruptly.

An elegant man in a black robe stepped into view, emerging from the corridor and walking past the pile of unconscious Aurors. His handsome, composed demeanor made the air feel heavy.

"Let me out!"

"I'm innocent!"

Excited yet chaotic cries filled the air as the prisoners, upon seeing the mastermind behind the attack, shouted at the top of their lungs.

"It's me! I have it! Let me out, and I'll tell you where it is!"

A raspy yet piercing voice rose above the cacophony. Its grating tone, like sandpaper scraping against a chalkboard, silenced the crowd.

"Don't. Try. To deceive. Lord Voldemort!"

The handsome man's face twisted into a horrifying snarl. His black robes flared, and the sharp crack of magical energy silenced all other sounds.

"Crucio!"

Screams of anguish filled the space, cutting through the oppressive silence like a knife. Everyone in the cells froze, terrified by the sudden and merciless display of power.

But amidst the quiet, a furious roar echoed from one of the farthest cells.

"There you are, Black!"

Inside a heavily fortified cage, a chained man with bloodshot eyes screamed and thrashed against his restraints.

"Tell me where the Lance of Longinus is."

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

"That's fine. If you won't speak, I'll just extract it from your mind, Black."

The sturdy cell bars were sliced apart by a blade of magic. When the elegant man stepped out of the cell moments later, the raging screams had ceased. The prisoners watched in horror as he dragged the lifeless form of the unfortunate man back into the corridor. A sinister smile curled his lips, oozing malice.

"Sweet dreams, you bastards."

Bang! 

A single gunshot rang out. The light source illuminating the cells was extinguished, plunging the prison into pitch-black darkness.

(End of Chapter)