Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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"Almost forgot the main thing, Harry."

As Harry squatted down to pull weeds in a somewhat dejected manner, Hagrid suddenly remembered what he was supposed to do.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to tell you: once you get to Hogwarts, go to his office. He has something important to discuss with you."

"Oh."

Still crouching and pulling at the weeds, Harry looked up, his gaze full of envy as he eyed the explosive blunderbuss that Hagrid tucked back into his pocket. That was the stuff of a man's dreams! Real men didn't play with pistols; if you're going to shoot, shoot a cannon!

The charm of that oversized caliber had Harry drooling with desire.

"You two better step up your game," Harry muttered, glancing down at the ebony and ivory firearms at his waist. Though he'd grown significantly stronger since the school term began, he couldn't help but lament that there hadn't been any further transformations in their form.

As if in response to Harry's grumbling, a faint glimmer of light flashed across the surfaces of the ebony and ivory pistols at his waist, though Harry failed to notice it.

"Does Professor Dumbledore have something urgent for me?" Harry nodded to himself. "Alright, I'll head there right away."

"The password's on this." Hagrid handed him a small slip of paper, on which was written a peculiar word: "Cockroach Cluster."

"Professor sure has... unique tastes," Harry muttered, grimacing. He waved a hand in farewell to Hagrid and set off.

"If Thor's about to hatch, I'll have Hedwig send you a message, Harry," Hagrid called after him.

"Got it. I'll make sure to be there on time," Harry replied.

After finishing their nosy spectating, the young wizards gradually dispersed, but their gazes lingered on Harry's retreating figure. Whispering amongst themselves, their chatter revolved mostly around the big news they'd overheard, much of it concerning Voldemort—or rather, the Dark Lord. Unlike Hagrid, who had finished reading The NC War Crimes Chronicles and gained some perspective, the young wizards still considered Voldemort an unspeakably terrifying figure whose name was taboo.

On his way to the headmaster's office, Harry couldn't help but feel that Dumbledore was finally stepping up. Whether it was Hagrid or other members of the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore hadn't really rewarded their sacrifices over the years. His loyal followers had risked their lives fighting for him, yet as their leader, Dumbledore had done little to compensate them.

Harry recalled Fred and George's mention on the train about their father's possible promotion. Perhaps this was Dumbledore's belated attempt to make amends to the Order's members. With Mr. Weasley's capabilities, he was more than qualified for a senior position in a key department.

However, his "quirky" hobbies had left him stuck in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. For someone who had personally drafted the Muggle Protection Act, a cornerstone of the Ministry of Magic's legislation and earned the respect of countless wizards, this was undoubtedly a waste of talent.

Setbacks foster growth. The conversation Harry had with Dumbledore at the end of his first year might have left a lasting impression on the wise old wizard. Coupled with Grindelwald's example, Dumbledore had witnessed firsthand how Cornelius Fudge, who dared to haggle with him, was reduced to a bootlicking sycophant before Grindelwald. Sometimes, what Dumbledore perceived as impartiality was, in fact, the height of unfairness.

With a slightly softened view of Dumbledore in his heart, Harry arrived at the entrance to the headmaster's office, guarded by the spouting stone gargoyle.

"Cockroach Cluster," he said.

The gargoyle leaped aside, revealing a spiral staircase leading upward. Harry knocked on the wooden door and entered the familiar headmaster's office.

"Huh, godfather? What are you doing here?"

Harry was surprised to see Snape, dressed in his signature black robes, standing inside.

Could it be that Dumbledore's been cursed again? Harry wondered, glancing at Dumbledore's left hand. However, it showed no signs of being burned or blackened.

Looks like he hasn't put on the ring yet, Harry thought with relief. Voldemort had confessed about his Horcrux ring, and though he hadn't revealed its location, having a target meant Dumbledore could find it without much difficulty.

"I heard you have something important to tell me, Professor?"

Harry approached the two men, and his eyes caught sight of several small items neatly arranged on Dumbledore's desk. They were placed inside a box lined with black velvet, glittering brilliantly under the light.

"Hufflepuff's Cup, Ravenclaw's Diadem, and Slytherin's Ring?"

Harry squinted at the objects, then turned to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

"Perhaps we should use more precise terms," Dumbledore said, intertwining his fingers. "The Everlasting Goblet of Hufflepuff, the Diadem of Wisdom belonging to Ravenclaw, and the family heirloom of the Gaunts, Slytherin's ring embedded with the Resurrection Stone—all of which were once used as Horcruxes."

"Tom kept his greatest secret well-guarded. Until his final collapse, it was only by chance that Gellert obtained some clues about the Horcruxes. Aside from these three, there's another—a locket belonging to Slytherin. However, the locket was swapped out. The one I obtained is a replica, with a note left by someone courageous."

Dumbledore retrieved a glittering locket from beneath the desk, with the note spread out on top of it.

Harry glanced at the note, and as expected, it was left by Sirius Black's younger brother, Regulus Arcturus Black. However, Dumbledore had yet to deduce the identity of the note's author. The signature "R.A.B." was too vague a clue, making it difficult to investigate further.

"Professor, did you just say these were once Horcruxes?"

Unaware that Voldemort had already fled, Harry caught the hints in Dumbledore's words.

"Yes," Dumbledore confirmed. "After Tom's soul fragment in Gellert's possession collapsed, he was able to resurrect himself through another Horcrux. However, Tom's decisiveness prevented us from capturing him. He intentionally extracted all the soul fragments from his Horcruxes, severing any remaining traces."

"Even his Death Eaters—he has completely abandoned them."

"How do you know this?" Harry glanced at his godfather. While he already had a general understanding, he feigned ignorance.

"The Dark Mark has vanished," Snape explained. "Only Voldemort himself can actively lift the magic, which makes it disappear entirely."

To Harry's surprise, Snape suddenly removed his black coat, revealing his arm.

"I infiltrated the Death Eaters' ranks," Snape said coldly. "Nearly all the critical information the Order of the Phoenix received came from me."

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't stop worrying about Lily. This was the only way to avoid most of the danger. As for James Potter—that brainless fool—I've never believed he'd be capable of rational thought. On the rare occasion he tried to use his underdeveloped brain, nothing good ever came of it!"

A flash of unrestrained cold fury flickered in Snape's eyes. After learning the full truth of the betrayal back then, Snape's hatred for James Potter had escalated. He'd entertained the thought of digging up James' grave and grinding his bones to dust more than once. Were it not for Dumbledore's intervention, he might have already done it.

"Remember this, Harry," Snape spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Your father was a fool—an irredeemable fool. And that Black of yours is no better."

"You don't need to go to North America to save that dog's miserable life. He's worse than a grindylow. What right does he have to be your godfather?"

There was no doubt about it—if Sirius Black ever stood before Snape again, Snape would likely kill him on the spot without hesitation and send him to reunite with his wretched brother.

Harry was silent for a while. Compared to Black, he indeed felt closer to Snape.

"Enough, Severus," Dumbledore interjected, breaking the tension. "Don't speak like that in front of Harry. Sirius is remorseful. You're aware of the ten years he spent in Azkaban—he's realized his mistakes."

"Give him a chance to make amends. Can you do that?"

Snape's expression remained cold, and he didn't reply, leaving it unclear whether he agreed.

"Let's get back to the main topic, Harry," Dumbledore said, redirecting the conversation.

"The relics of Hogwarts' Four Founders—that's why I asked you here."

"If my speculation is correct, the original four founders of Hogwarts were like you—a new breed of awakened wizard."

"Tom may have gathered the relics of the four founders, but he was unable to unlock their treasure."

"But I think you might be able to."

(End of Chapter)