Harry Potter: Magic and Guns

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*****

Lunch break always flies by quickly when shared with friends, and Harry's arrival at Hogwarts spread even faster. What was supposed to be a half-hour lunch was dragged out to nearly two hours by fans clamoring for signatures and passing pink envelopes.

Seeing the pile of notes and envelopes towering higher than Hedwig, Harry clicked his tongue. Hogwarts witches sure were proactive—he hadn't received so many letters in a day even when he was at school outside Hogwarts. Back then, he'd be lucky to get four or five letters daily.

"There are so many! Harry, you're really something," Neville said, his voice tinged with envy once the fans had left.

"I hope none of them contain love potions," Harry replied, shrugging as he waved his hand.

"Neville, you could get some too. Just lose a bit of weight," Harry suggested, patting Neville's face. "You'd probably look pretty good if you slimmed down. Confidence is key, but sticking to it is important too."

"Really? I could?" Neville blinked, hope flickering in his eyes.

"Of course, but if you don't try, then it's all for nothing. Exercise can be tough at first, but it becomes a habit if you keep at it," Harry encouraged.

"I'll give it a shot!" Neville said softly, pumping his fist.

As Harry stuffed the assorted notes and letters into a sack to be packed away, Hermione suddenly asked, "Why do you seem so experienced with this?"

"These?" Harry turned to her, "I probably have a wardrobe full of them at home. It's not polite to throw them away, so I keep them—sort of like an unusual collection."

Harry chuckled, "But the romance I'm looking for probably won't start with a love letter."

"What is it then?" Hermione leaned in, curious.

"I believe in love at first sight. I think life should have more surprises."

"Like how I entered the magical world," Harry added.

"To win me over, girls will need to put in more effort," he joked, grinning.

Hermione rolled her eyes at this and returned to her book, engrossed in its pages as she leaned against the window.

"By the way, Neville, do you know much about Quidditch?"

Harry had spent most of his vacation practicing spells and training Hedwig, so he hadn't read much about Quidditch. Given that it had changed from its original form, his memories were probably only a rough reference now.

"Of course!" Neville perked up immediately. "No one in the magical world doesn't know about Quidditch. I have a Nimbus 2000 at home."

"But I'm not very good at flying," Neville said, his brow furrowing. "My grandmother doesn't allow me to fly too high, afraid that Muggles might see."

"But there's a flying class at school. I hope I can learn well there."

The compartment door opened, but instead of a fan with envelopes and signatures, three boys entered.

The leader was pale and thin with blonde hair, followed by two burly companions, though not as large as Dudley. In a match, Dudley could take them down in seconds. They filled up the space in the compartment.

"You—are you Harry Potter?" The blonde boy, with a contemptuous attitude, spoke with a drawl, displaying clear arrogance.

Hermione looked up from her book with a look of disgust, and Neville clenched his fists nervously, his mind racing.

"Didn't you learn to knock before entering?" Harry propped his head on his hand, glancing disinterestedly at the boy. He waved them away dismissively, "Go on, knock before entering and wait for me to nod. It's called manners, understand?"

The pale boy's face flushed slightly, apparently irritated by Harry's casual tone.

"I'm here to teach you a lesson, Potter!" he declared, his voice rising in anger. "You dared to do that to my sister! I won't let you get away with it!"

The angry blonde boy stomped around, his voice loud enough to cause some commotion in the corridor, as if others were pushing the compartment door open to see what was happening.

"Hey, kid, don't make baseless accusations. I've seen your sister, oh," Harry suddenly recalled. "I thought Draco was an only child, but it turns out he has a sister. Cassandra, right? I even helped her pick out some clothes. Shouldn't I be thanked?"

"Draco Malfoy, right?" Harry still lounged lazily but extended his hand out of courtesy.

But Draco, in his fury, slapped Harry's hand away.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson!" Draco snarled, looking as if he planned to have his followers take action. Before he could make a move, Harry stood up.

He casually removed his vest and took a deep breath.

"What lesson are you planning to give me?" Harry asked, his smile bright and his teeth gleaming white. His muscles, taut and bulging, gave him a fearsome look, veins popping out, making him appear almost menacing.

Crabbe and Goyle swallowed nervously, inching closer and blocking Draco's retreat.

"What? What?" Draco, trapped between the intimidating figure of Harry and the solid wall of his companions, felt the color drain from his face. His legs trembled—a natural response, but not something to be ashamed of.

"What's with the hesitation?"

Harry, with a broad smile, leaned in closer, towering over Draco by nearly half a head, creating an even greater sense of pressure.

"It's a misunderstanding! A misunderstanding!" Draco waved his hands frantically, trying to pretend nothing had happened.

"Not going to get your sister's revenge? Didn't you say I bullied her?"

"Where did I bully her?" Harry's hand pressed down firmly on Draco's shoulder, nearly making him buckle under the pressure.

"Uh, this and that..." Draco, almost frightened out of his wits, slapped at the air behind him. Despite the sound of slapping Crabbe and Goyle's bulging stomachs, neither of them reacted at all.

'These two useless idiots, stuffing their faces with food. They're supposed to protect me, not leave me in this mess!'

Draco, feeling both exasperated and desperate, wanted to strangle his henchmen. Hadn't they sworn to protect him, Draco Malfoy, no matter what?

"Fighting isn't good," Harry said earnestly. "You shouldn't abuse your lackeys to do whatever you want. A man's most important quality is self-restraint."

Draco, who was being roughly held by the shoulder, had tears welling up in his eyes. Harry's grip was really strong.

"I train in boxing, wrestling, and mixed martial arts. I run five kilometers with a thirty-kilogram weight not to bully people."

"What are your two lackeys called?" Harry asked.

"Crabbe and Goyle!" Draco almost screamed in response, eager to answer quickly.

"Then you should keep an eye on them. These two don't seem too bright. Remember, their bulk isn't meant for bullying others, and they're just fat with no real strength. If they encounter someone tough, they can take a beating. But you? You're as weak as a chick!"

Harry pinched Crabbe's arm, making him stomp his foot in pain. Goyle clenched his teeth, his face reddening; Crabbe had stepped on his foot!

"Alright, you two can go now." Harry waved them off. The two, looking like they had been rescued, quickly scampered away, not daring to look back.

"Now, we can have a proper chat, Draco."

Draco, cowering in the corner like a frightened quail with tear-filled eyes, regretted his earlier impulsiveness. The small compartment offered no escape, and he regretted his previous bravado. With Harry's jacket off, he looked like a different beast entirely. Draco felt a mix of small envy and dread, fearing the impact of Harry's powerful fists.

"Family education is crucial," Harry said.

Draco was stunned. What was Harry up to?

"The Malfoy family clearly lacks in this regard. It's not right. Do you understand?"

"I'll knock next time! I promise!" Draco nodded vigorously, now a model pupil. Whatever Harry said, Draco was ready to comply. He was terrified that a punch from Harry might just cave in his head.

"Also, the way you speak to people must change."

"I told your sister before: there's no pride in pureblood status. Don't flaunt it. Animals might care about bloodlines because it sells more, but people should earn their own respect. A clown in front of a grand backdrop only looks more ridiculous. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded repeatedly, in complete agreement.

"So, if you want to interact properly with people, how should you speak?"

"My name is Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you." Draco tensed up, afraid of mispronouncing any words.

"Still speaking in a drawl?"

"No more drawl! I'll speak properly from now on!" Draco vowed.

"That's the spirit," Harry said, nodding and patting Draco on the head. "And don't use bad language. Words like 'Mudblood' are disrespectful and impolite."

"I never used those words! I swear!" Draco's tailbone tensed at the thought of such terms. His father often used them, but if Draco had spoken out of turn, he would probably be on the floor by now.

"That's why I'm explaining things calmly. Some things your parents didn't teach you, but you need to be aware of them. I hear your father is a Death Eater, right?"

Draco froze, the realization of Harry's identity hitting him. The wizarding world said that Harry had been the one to defeat Voldemort, and Death Eaters were like fish out of water, merely flapping their mouths, facing inevitable doom.

"Don't follow in your father's footsteps. He's not a good example, and you don't need to defend him." Harry glanced at Draco, who seemed about to speak but closed his mouth upon seeing Harry's stern look. "Whether it's true or not, people know. The Imperius Curse is a poor excuse, and it won't work a second time."

"I hope there won't be a second time. It's best if there isn't any at all."

"Go back and tell your sister to watch her words too. If I hear her using 'Mudblood' again, I think it would be best if both of you were expelled."

"And then run far away."

Harry suddenly flashed a grin, causing Draco, already on edge, to sit down abruptly.

"A person who is neither entirely bad nor good lives the most miserable life." Harry lifted Draco, his gaze seeming to penetrate into the boy's soul. "That's all I have to say. What kind of person you become is up to you."

"By the way, I should add that I have no interest in your sister. She's flat and unimpressive. It's just not my type."

A figure near the door paused, their expression changing rapidly in the blink of an eye.

"Draco!"

A stern-faced blonde girl glared at the cowering Draco. "Do you want to embarrass the family further? Hmm?!"

"Sis—"

Draco, shrinking before Cassandra, dared not say another word.

"Let's go."

She said this without looking back and walked away.

"Wait for me! Sis, wait—Ouch!"

Draco, nearly falling from a sharp elbow jab, clutched his chest and lowered his head as he followed, still trying to maintain some dignity.

The onlookers, curious young witches and wizards, retreated, whispering among themselves about the incident in the compartment.

Harry closed the door and saw a figure sprinting alongside the train through the window. He opened it to let in the fresh air.

Hedwig snuggled into Harry's palm before hopping onto the top of the crate, closing her eyes for a nap. The toad, Leif, with the weight of the crate on him, rolled his eyes, likely cursing his predicament silently.

(End of Chapter)